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DIVINITY SCHOOL
TROWBRIDGE LIBRARY

The Teachings of
Jesus in Parables

The TEACHINGS of
JESUS in PARABLES

By REV. GEORGE HENRY HUBBARD

BOSTON
W fj e lilsrint Iresm
NEW YORK CHICAGO

COPYRIGHT 1907
BY THE CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL
AND PUBLISHING SOCIETY

|^\ O the memory of
^S the lateArchibald
Duff, D.D., of Sher-
brooke, Que., from
whom I derived my
first ideals of Scripture
exposition, this volume
is reverently dedicated.

CONTENTS

Interpretation of the Parables  xiii
INTRODUCTORY PARABLE
Chapter Page
1. Jesus' Introduction to His Parables.
The Sower  3
MAJOR GROUP
PARABLES OF THE KINGDOM
II. The Vitality of Character. The Grow
ing Seed  17
III. The Conservation of Character. The
Wheat and the Tares  31
IV. The Growth of Character. The Mus
tard Seed  45
V. The Influence of Character. The Leaven 57
VI. The Value of Character. The Treasure 71
VII. The Cost of Character. The Merchant
man and the Pearl  85
. vil

CONTENTS— Continued
Chapter Paee
VIII. The Completion of Character. The
Drag-net  99
IX. Character an Interpreter of Truth. The
Householder and His Treasure.. ..113
X. The Equation of Character. The Vine
yard Laborers  127
XI. Forgiveness a Factor in Character
Building. The Unforgiving Servant . .141
XII. Character and Salvation Inseparable.
The Marriage Feast  153
XIII. The Test of Character. The, Ten
Virgins  165
XIV. The Law of Character. The Talents. .177
XV. Christly Character the Kingdom of God.
The Pounds  191
MINOR GROUPS
THREE PARABLES OF THE NEW AND OLD
XVI. The Patchwork. The New Cloth in the
Old Garment  205
XVII. The Expansive Force of Living Experi
ence. The New Wine in Old Bottles. 2 17
XVIII. Self-satisfied Conservatism. The Rev
eler  229
viii

CONTENTS— Continued
Chapter page
THREE PARABLES OF LOST THINGS
XIX. Counting the Cost. The Tower Builder. 241
XX. Courage and Cowardice. The Warring
King  255
THREE PARABLES OF LOST THINGS
XXI. The Lost Sheep. The Good Shepherd. 269
XXII. The Lost Coin. The Piece of Money. ..283
XXIII. The Lost Son. The Prodigal and the
Drudge  297
THREE PARABLES OF PRAYER
XXIV. Prayer, not a Form but a Force. The
Friend at Midnight  311
XXV. The Power of Persistence. The Im
portunate Widow. . . . 4  323
XXVI. Exaltation Through Humility. The
Pharisee and the Publican  335
TWO PARABLES ON THE USE OF WEALTH
XXVII. The Wise Use of Wealth. The Un
righteous Steward  349
XXVIII. An Impassable Barrier. Dives and
Lazarus  363
ix

CONTENTS— Continued
Chapter Page
MISCELLANEOUS PARABLES
XXIX. The Empty House. Spiritual Relapse. 375
XXX. The Proof of Obedience. The Two
Sons  385
XXXI. The Irrepressible Conflict. The Wicked
Husbandmen  397
XXXII. The Law of Spiritual Reaction. The
Two Debtors  409
XXXIII. Neighborhood. The Good Samaritan. .421
XXXIV. God's Fool. The Rich Husbandman. .433
XXXV. Preparation for the Coming of the Son
of Man. The Householder and the
Thief  447
XXXVI. The Peril and Penalty of Usefulness.
The Fruitless Tree  459
XXXVII. Excuses. The Great Supper  471
XXXVIII. The Christian Ideal of Duty. The
Ploughing Servant   483
XXXIX. A Concluding Parable of Jesus. The
Two Builders  .457

Interpretation
of the Parables

Interpretation of the Parables

A story is the universal language of humanity. Idi
oms, proverbs, words, often lose their significance by
translation from one language to another, or their mean
ing becomes obscured by the natural development of the
language in which they were uttered. But a story is the
same in all times and tongues. It is a living embodiment
of truth. Its charm is perennial. Its meaning is
undimmed by the passing of the years, and age abates
nothing of its force.
The "Fables of JEsop" speak just as plainly and as
effectively to the English or American mind of the pres
ent day as they did to the Greek mind of twenty-five
centuries ago ; while the utterances of Plato and Socrates
and even die poems and plays of their time have long
been a dead language to most men. The "Arabian Nights"
stories have lost none of their original fascination by
traveling from East to West, from century to century,
from language to language, though there is little else in
the literature of Persia or Arabia that excites our in
terest or touches our life. Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales"
still charm every reader with their pictures of old English
life and thought, although the writings of the philoso
phers and preachers of Chaucer's day have long since
become dull and meaningless. The character, the history,
the religion of any nation is best learned through the
medium of its folk-lore.
What need, then, to reiterate the trite question, Why
did Jesus speak in parables ? How else, pray, should he
speak? How else make himself clearly understood by all
men everywhere and throughout all time ? Jesus was the

INTERPRETATION
universal Teacher. He spoke to the world ; therefore he
used the world language. He chose that form of teach
ing which would be most plain to the unlearned, most
stimulating to the thoughtful,, and most attractive to all ;
that form which would convey the truth most forcibly
and preserve it most securely.
There is also another reason. As true education is not
pouring knowledge into the mind, but rather drawing
out the mind itself, so salvation is not something be
stowed from without, but rather the quickening and de
velopment of spiritual life already existing but dormant
in the soul. It follows that the most valuable truth, the
truth that does the most good either intellectually or spir
itually, is that which we think out for ourselves. Ready-
made truth adds little to our mental power or equipment.
Character cannot be perfected by the mere teaching of
another, even though he be the Christ. It is the fruit
^of personal effort, the outgrowth of personal convicfiSn.
So* Jesus would set men thinking. Having given them
a groundwork of elementary truth, he would stimulate
them to seek for more truth on their own account. Hav
ing plainly declared the underlying principles upon which
his kingdom rests, he would have them work out the
specific problems for themselves. <Qn\y in this way eould
the spiritual growth and progress of his disciples be
assured.^ And the parable is the best possible means for
accomplishing his purpose.
To the thoughtless hearer a story is of little worth.
Who reads a fable and blinks the moral is no better for
his reading. We are, in fact, often made worse by
thoughtless reading and hearing. Your frivolous novel
reader, for example, who reads for the story alone, vi-'
tiates both character and intellect by the habit ; but he who
sees in every tale a picture of life or a disclosure of truth,
reads to some purpose. He is made wiser and better by
everything that he reads, whether it be history or myth,
poem or novel. For him the flowers of literature yield

OF THE PARABLES
not only perfume and beauty, but rich store of honey as
well. Or, again, your careless hearer of the gospel,
and there are multitudes of such hearers, who hears only
to admire or criticize, and never to apply and practise,
becomes gradually .gospel-hardened, and the truth which
should be a savor of life unto life is transformed to
be the savor of death unto death.
This is a universal law of nature. The food which
gives strength to the laboring man and fits him the bet
ter for his toil, may bring discomfort and sickness to the
luxurious idler. The weight which builds up the mus
cles of the athlete would crush the child. The problem
whose solution strengthens the mind of the reasoner only
makes him the more parrot-like and mechanical who
takes his solution from his neighbor. In other words,
"Unto you it is given to know the mysteries of the king
dom of heaven, but to them it is nqt given. For whoso
ever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have abun
dance : but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken
away even that which he hath. Therefore speak I to
them in parables ; because seeing they see not, and hear
ing they hear not, neither do they understand."
No teaching ever uttered has been more simple than
the parables of Jesus, yet none has been more wofully
distorted. They have been made the stalking-horse for
all kinds of false doctrine and not a little sheer nonsense
besides. Every such miscarriage of their purpose has re
sulted,, however, not from any real obscurity in the para
bles themselves, but from false methods of interpreta
tion, from carelessness in treatment, and from a too free
use of the imagination. Curiously enough the majority
of expositors depart frequently from the rules and prin
ciples which they themselves lay down at the beginning
of their work, being- led astray by the influence of tra
dition, the seductions of profound scholarship, or the
temptations of indolence. It is not so necessary, there
fore, to frame new rules of interpretation as it is to re-
XV

INTERPRETATION
state those now commonly accepted and to insist upon
strict adherence to them. And this latter is not so easy
a matter as it would seem, in view of the conventional
interpretations that have become familiar to every Bible
student, the influence of which it is difficult to escape.
All rules of interpretation must grow out of the nature
of the parable and the purpose for which it was uttered.
The purpose of the parable we have already discussed.
What of its nature ?
What is a parable? A story? Not always, though it
always partakes of the nature of a story. A mere figure
of speech ? Usually more than that. A fable ? No ; for
it is not necessarily impossible. A myth? No; for it
may be true. A_paxable-is a~wordj)icture. As such it
may represent a real scene or an imaginary one, a prob
able occurrence or an improbable one. It may take any
of the varied forms which we observe in the products
of brush or pencil. It may resemble the "Christ before
Pilate" or "The Last Supper," with every detail carefully
wrought out and finished; or it may be like a Japanese
picture consisting merely of a half dozen suggestive lines
and much left to the imagination. It may be the full can
vas of "The Prodigal Son" or "The Ten Virgins" ; or it
may be a hasty sketch of "The Lost Sheep," or the mere
"study" of the "Unclean Spirit" in Matt. 12 :43-45. In any
case it is the embodiment of one central thought to which
all details are subordinate. Tt is not a string of pearls,
or a connected series of truths, ft is a single gem with
such setting or background as shall display it to the best
advantage. The parable is like a lens, which gathers
many of the sun's rays and brings them to a focus upon
a single point. It is like a circle with many radii of
detail meeting at the center, and this center it is which
the expositor is concerned to find.
Of course, I am aware that this definition of the para
ble is somewhat elastic. It could not be otherwise , for
xvi

OF THE PARABLES
it is impossible to draw hard and fast lines between this
and other rhetorical figures, and there must ever remain a
few utterances which will occupy the borderland between
parable and trope, and concerning which each expositor
must exercise the right of private judgment. With the
scholar who defines "parable" differently I have no quar
rel, but I have a serious quarrel with him who wastes, in
arguing for his definition, time and thought that might be
spent far more profitably upon the study of the para
bles themselves.
For the perfect interpretation of our Lord's parables
but two conditions are requisite. They are (a) a child
like receptiveness of mind, unprejudiced and eager,
and (b) thoughtful attention that looks beyond the mere
story or picture and seeks to discover the truth which it
embodies. Besides these two conditions alone, nothing
is needed but the most ordinary intelligence.
The great danger is that we shall read too much into
the parable and not enough out of it, that we shall seek
an independent message in each minute detail, and that
we shall try to square the whole with our preconceived
notions of truth and righteousness. We are prone to for
get that we are dealing with a simple story or sketch,
and look upon it as a dark riddle. This is the frequent
mistake of scholars. Take for illustration the "Essential
Conditions of Interpretation," as laid down by Dr.
Arnot. He says : "Of the parables it is particularly true
that faith is necessary to the full appreciation of their
meaning. ^Another cognate requisite is sympathy with
the view which Jesus took of human nature in its fallen
state. Subordinate qualifications are: i. The faculty of
perceiving and appreciating analogies. 2. A stern logic'.
3. Some competent acquaintance, not only with the
Scriptures, but also with the doctrines which the Scrip
tures contain, arranged in a dogmatic system. 4. Some
knowledge of relative history, topography and customs."
Who, then, is sufficient for these things? Here is
xvii

INTERPRETATION
scholarship and the habit of exposition run wild. "Log
ic!" Then the parables are not for the average woman.
"Dogmatic theology !" That closes the door on most of
the laity and some of the clergy as well. "Ancient
history, topography, customs !" Many of us are too busy
to learn much of these. If one must possess all of these
qualifications in order to interpret them, how foolish
of our Lord to have uttered the parables to the multitude !
Not one in a thousand of his immediate hearers pos
sessed all of these qualifications. Few possessed any of
them. And the same is true of those who have read the
parables in subsequent ages. Yet he embodied the bulk
of his gospel in parables, and they have been under
stood by common people in all- ages.
No, no ! We must cast aside the lumber of the schools,
the microscopical analysis of grammar and lexicon, the
massive enginery of scientific and historical study, and
we must take the parables in their simplicity, or we shall
surely miss the lessons they were intended to teach.
Do not misunderstand me. I would not belittle the value
of scholarship and research. Not at all. But I say that
these may be and often are misused in the interpretation
of Jesus' teachings. It is well to know all about "values"
and "tones" in color, and to understand the laws of per
spective and much more that pertains to the art of paint
ing; yet one may be able to appreciate and enjoy a fine
picture without any of these things. And on the other
hand, one thoroughly instructed in them all may lose the
best effect of some fine production through excessive at
tention to technical criticism. In the same way an un
due regard for scholarly tradition and methods may ob
scure simple truth which the untrammeled mind would
grasp in a moment.
The essential truth of a parable is that which lies
plainly upon its surface. Any other truths which we
may draw from it are merely incidental, and have no
basis of Christly authority. The lesson of every parable

OF THE PARABLES
is that which appears as readily to the mind of a child as "'
to that of the mature and careful scholar. =
But why study the parables if they are so simple?
Why,, indeed? Because the value of a parable does not
depend upon the new and varied truth that we are able
to extort from it, but upon our progressive and practical
application of its single truth to our daily life. The mar-
Si].s of kaleidoscopic interpretation and the adornments
oi scholarly research that appear in most writings on the
parables are indicative of shallow and discursive thought
rather than of profound insight. It requires more
thought and concentration to develop the one truth that
lies in the parable than it does to read into it any number
of truths, however ingenious, that have no proper place
there. How, then, shall we interpret the parables? The an
swer has already been given, at least by implication. We
must strive to emphasize and to apply the one truth
which the parable plainly teaches. We are not concerned
with the details which are necessary to make a complete
story. • If we treat the details at all, it must be to make
them tributary to the central thought. We must show
how they lead up to that and help to make its bearing
plain. We must remember that the parable is a lens in
which we catch many rays of divine truth and focus them
upon a single point. And the more perfectly they are
focused the greater will be, the effect.
An old story is in point, of an artist who had painted
"The Last Supper." A friend seeing the picture spoke
with admiration of some exquisite tracery in a subordi
nate part. The painter immediately dashed his brush up
on it and blotted it out, exclaiming, "Nothing must be
seen but the face of the Lord ! The rest is designed only
to draw attention to that !" So in the word-picture ; if
there be not unity of effect its purpose is stultified.
This canon of interpretation is generally acknowledged
in theory, but few adhere to it in practise with real strict-

INTERPRETATION
ness. Too often the parables are made fields for the ex
ercise of the fancy, and we have such expositions as this
of the parable of "The Good Samaritan:" — "The man
who fell among thieves was Adam; the thieves were the
devil and his angels; the priest and the Levite were the
Mosaic dispensation ; the good Samaritan was Christ him
self ; the oil and the wine were the comforts and bless
ings of the Gospel ; the beast on which he rode was the
humanity of Christ; the setting of the wounded man
thereon was his vicarious salvation; the inn was the
Church ; and the two pence, the life that now is and the
life to come." A marvel of expository genius this, truly !
But where in all this play of the fancy do we find an
answer to the question, "Who is my neighbor?" And
the parable had no other purpose than to answer that
question. Again, parables are made a broad and shady pasture
for weary minds. Men treat them after the method of
running exposition, because it is easier than to hold the
mind to a single topic. What is the result? What
could it be but confusion and mistiness ? It is simply ab
surd to treat the parables by what is commonly known as
the "expository" method. Suppose an art teacher were
giving to his class a critique of some great painting. Can
you imagine him gravely beginning at the left of the
picture and discussing it line by line, figure by figure, till
he reached the right side, and perhaps saying nothing at
all with reference to the plan and purpose and meaning
of the picture as a whole? "Ridiculous!" you say. Of
course it is. Yet that is what men frequently do with the
parables, and call it treating them by the "expository"
method. What a libel on exposition!
The true interpretation of a parable is not expository
in this sense, but topical. It looks first of all to find the
central thought which the parable was designed to em
body, and it treats every detail with reference to its bear-

OF THE PARABLES
ing upon this thought. For example, the parable of "The
Sower" clusters about the words, "Take heed therefore
how ye hear." The one purpose of its fourfold picture
is to impress upon every individual in the Master's audi
ence the necessity of personal attention to the truth.
Treated by the usual method, the parables of "The
Tares of the Field" and the "Drag-net" cover much
common ground. Treated topically they are wholly dis
tinct. The former inculcates present tolerance toward
error; the latter is a promise of the ultimate separa
tion between truth and error, good and evil. The par
ables of "The Mustard Seed" and "The Leaven" are also
frequently confused. Deal with them after the method
of verbal exegesis, and they are, as one has said, "in the
main coincident." But if we study them as living expres
sions each of a single thought we shall find that the great
Teacher did not repeat himself unnecessarily. The Mus
tard Seed teaches the lesson of growth, the Leaven, the
lesson of influence. . The Wonderful Growth of God's
Kingdom is the subject of the one parable; the Perva
sive Influence of the Kingdom is the subject of the other.
At what part do these topics coincide ?
Again, we hear a great deal about the parable of "The
Hidden Treasure" and the parable of "The Pearl of
Great Price," titles which of themselves indicate a con
fusion of the truths involved. Yet these are really in
dependent pictures. The central figure of the former is
the treasure.' "The kingdom of heaven is like unto a
treasure," says the Master. Your typical expositor, when
he comes to this parable, begins straightway with a series
of questions as to the application of the word "hidden"
to the kingdom of God, the significance of the "field,"
whether the man found the treasure by chance, whether
he did right in concealing it, etc. Now all these details
are necessary to the completeness of the story, but they
have nothing to do with its lesson excepting to concen
trate attention upon the central figure and to aid in inter-
xxi

INTERPRETATION
preting that more vividly. As well discuss the contents
of the wheelbarrow in Millet's "Angelus," or the material
of the table-cloth in Da Vinci's "Last Supper" as to turn
the thought upon these literary details of the parable.
The treasure — the treasure — that is the object to keep in
mind. And the only legitimate use of the parable is to
make it a text for a discourse upon "The Supreme Value
of the Kingdom of Heaven."
Now as to the second parable of this couplet: What
is it? The parable of "The Pearl of Great Price"? No,
The Master does not say, "The kingdom of heaven is like
a pearl." He might have said so and truthfully ; but he
did not. What he did say is this: "The kingdom of
heaven is like a merchantman." Properly, therefore,
it is the parable of "The Merchantman," or, if you choose,
"The Merchantman and the Pearl." The focus of the
preceding parable is the treasure ; of this, the man. The
parable of "The Treasure" illustrates the value of the
kingdom. The parable of "The Merchantman" bids us
seek that kingdom and secure it at any cost. "A Man's
Religion Worth What It Costs Him," is a title that well
expresses the theme of the parable of "The Merchant
man." Treat these two parables thus topically, and in
stead of a useless repetition of one thought, you have two
distinct pictures, each conveying a vital lesson for every
Christian life.
Not a little valuable truth is lost by the confusion of
similar parables. "The Pounds" and "The Talents" are
thus frequently confounded. "The Importunate Widow"
and "The Friend at Midnight" are made to teach but
one lesson. The three parables of Luke 15 are treated
as one truth represented in three forms. The topical
method of interpretation brings out the distinction be
tween these parables in each group and so makes very
clear some lessons that would otherwise be obscured.
"One touch of nature makes the whole world kin."
The universal love of a story is the magic touch of nature

OF THE PARABLES
that brings together all classes of men, and holds with
equal attraction the old and the young, the wise and the
unwise,, the rich and the poor. Hence the stories or para
bles of Jesus have been in every age the unfailing
source of most popular gospel preaching. When ab
stract truth palls upon the conscience or fails to reach
the understanding, the parable arouses attention, quick
ens feeling, and spurs to action. There is that in the
parable itself which will hold the attention and stir the
soul even when the exposition of it is most commonplace.
This is no excuse, however, for slovenly work. The
rather should we give the parables our best thought and
our most earnest study, since they will repay us so richly.
"The parables of the kingdom," says a German writer,
"are, as it were, a picture-gallery, and we walk up and
down examining each picture by itself. We must not
forget, however, that these are heavenly pictures that
hang around us, that heavenly things are here exposed
to view. A heavenly interpreter walks by our side; we
must have a heavenly sense, if we would grasp the mean
ing of what we hear and see. If our study quickens this
sense within us, SO' that it shall grow clearer and sharper
before every picture, a rich treat awaits us; for the
heavenly gallery is great."

XXU1

Jesus' Introduction
to His Parables

CHAPTER I

Jesus' Introduction to
His Parables
THE SOWER
Cf. Matf. 13:3-8, 18-23; Mark 4:3-8, 13-20; Luke 8:4-15
Text. — "Take heed . . . ho<w ye hear'. " — Luke 8:i8
ALWAYS read the preface of a book. If the
book be a good one, the preface is worth
reading. If the book be not good, a glance
at the preface may save valuable time by
showing its worthlessness in a few mo
ments. In any case the preface will usually furnish the
key to the pages that follow ; and we read them intelli
gently if we have read it carefully. Our Lord -has given
us a preface to his parables , and only those who master
the preface can study the volume with profit.
Seated in a boat near the water's edge, with a vast
multitude gathered before him on the shore, our Lord
uttered that beautiful and instructive series of parables
contained in the thirteenth chapter of Matthew's Gospel.
He is about to talk of the kingdom of heaven', but he
begins with a lesson upon Hearing. The other parables
of the chapter form a distinct group bound together by
a common topic. This parable reveals no vital con
nection with the group save that of an effective preface.
It is a challenge of attention, and as such forms a fitting
introduction to the entire collection of parables. As
such let us study it carefully.
We call our parable "The Parable of the Sower," be
cause it is so named by the Master himself from its
opening words. Named from its subject, it would be
"The Parable of the Soil." This title would call atten-

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
tion directly to its central thought. So far as the story
is concerned, the sower and the seed are mere adjuncts
of the field. They were made for the soil, not the soil
for them. The artist who attempts to represent this
parable by a picture in which the principal figure is that
of a man sowing seed, plainly misinterprets the story.
The soil is the object of chief importance and emphasis —
the soil and its influence upon the harvest. The four
fold division represents but one truth, viz., Other things
being equal, the growth and fruitfulness of seeds will be
determined by the nature of the soil upon which they
are cast.
This is a simple law of nature which holds good always
and everywhere; and it illustrates a higher and more
important law of human life. Nay, rather, it is identi
cal with that higher law; for law is one in all
spheres. Expressing the law in terms of the spiritual
life we say, The effect of truth upon the life is deter
mined by the condition of the heart into which it falls.
In other words, the character of the hearer and his
state of mind determine the results of his hearing.
What a man receives from any truth that he hears or
reads depends upon what he brings to that truth. What
we receive from the gospel itself depends upon what we
bring to the gospel.
The parable addresses us as hearers — hearers of the
gospel, and it addresses all. It is not a parable for one
class as distinguished from others. Jesus did not di
vide his audience into sections, after the manner of the
modern political orator, and address each class sepa
rately. We cannot say that one lesson is for the pulpit
and another for the pew, one for the saint and another
for the sinner. Every Christian is both a hearer and a
preacher of the gospel. We are all saints to the very
limited measure of our spiritual attainments ; and we are
all sinners to the very large measure of our shortcom
ings. Each of us, therefore, may receive the whole

THE  SOWER
gospel for himself, and may look for its application to his
own life. I repeat, then: The parable addresses all of
us in our capacity of hearers of the gospel. And there
is no one so wise, no saint so perfect in sainthood, that
he has outgrown the necessity of hearing the word of
God. Again and again the truth has been presented to
us, till we sometimes fancy that we know it by heart and
have exhausted its meaning. We wonder if there can
be any profit in listening any longer. Still there comes
to us this warning, "Take heed therefore how ye hear" !
Has some truth fallen on your ears hundreds of times ?
You may hear it hundreds of times more, and it may bear
new fruit each time if you hear it aright. The great
need of the world is not so much new truth as a new
hearing of old truth that shall make it more fruitful.
You say you have heard the gospel till you know it by
heart. Very good. But has the gospel become so thor
oughly written into your life that everybody can read it
rthere? "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace,
longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, meek
ness, self-control." Are all these fruits fully matured
and ripened in your character? If not, you have need to
¦bear the same old truth many times more; for they
spring from no other seed than the gospel that you have
heard from childhood, falling into a heart ready to re
ceive it. Even this most familiar of all parables may
bring a fresh blessing to him who comes to it with fresh
interest and desire.
Having read the parable, let us question it.
What of the person and character of the sower?
Nothing. What of the quality and nature of the seed?
Again, nothing. In their place these are most important
matters. But they are out of place when we are consider
ing our duties as hearers. We are concerned with the
message, not with the messenger. And in dealing with
the message, our duty is not to question its truthful
ness, but to get the truth out of it; not to measure its

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
value in the abstract, but to get as much concrete value
out of it as we can. The Pharisees were so disturbed
'about the "authority" of Jesus, the messenger, that they
lost the good they might have received from his messages.
A great deal of truth becomes fruitless for us because
we are prejudiced against him who utters it, or because
we do not like the form in which it comes to us. There
is wisdom in the advice of an old Scotch preacher, "Be
willing to receive truth even from the devil, if he
chances to utter any." If our lives are to be fruitful we
must receive all truth without prejudice and without
criticism. The falling of the seed on all kinds of soil is taken
for granted. In no case is lack of fruitage attributed
to want of seed. The seed was abundant and good. So
in all our lives. If you and I fall short of the true stand
ard of character, if we fail to manifest the Christian
graces, if our lives are not fruitful in the largest and
best sense, it is never from a lack of truth. However lim
ited our opportunities may be^ however imperfect the
presentations of truth to which we listen, truth enough
has fallen upon every soul to make it noble and saintly
and grand if only the truth were rightly received and
obeyed. More than this: the segd scattered from the
hand of a thoughtless child will grow as readily and
will produce as much fruit as the seed sown by an ex
perienced farmer. So the truth that we receive from
the most unskilful and ignorant of teachers may prove
unexpectedly precious and helpful to our lives.
When we Christians go away from God's house com
plaining, as we so often do, that we have received no bene
fit from our worship, that the message has been without
value to us, might it not be well to ask ourselves wheth
er the fault was wholly with the messenger and his mes
sage, or whether it was with our own hearts and with
the manner and spirit of our hearing. It is said that a
French cook will make an appetizing and nourishing

THE  SOWER
meal from scraps of food that others would throw away
as useless. Not less true is it that a really earnest hearer
will find a blessing in a service that fills less earnest
hearts with contempt or excites in them a sense of
ridicule. How large a proportion of even Christian people
come to the services of God's house with their minds
wholly fixed on what they shall see and hear, utterly
forgetful of their own condition and fitness to receive!
In fact, if they think about it at all, they expect first to
be brought into a receptive mood and then to be filled.
Is it any wonder that they go away many times unsatis
fied? Any wonder that the word to which they listen
brings forth no fruit in their lives? If, instead of this,
all came to the sanctuary with an earnest purpose and a
definite desire, if every heart were open and every ear
attentive, if upon every lip were a prayer for the teach
ing of God's Spirit, the preaching of the gospel would be
vastly more fruitful than it is. No soul was ever yet
lost for want of truth. No life was ever left barren
because it lacked the good seed. No; if souls are lost,
if lives are fruitless, it is because they have not received
the truth that has been offered them and made the most of it .
The seed being abundant and good, the soil deter
mines its fruitfulness. Even so the heart of the hearer
determines the value of the truth heard. Four kinds of
soil catch the seed as it falls from the hand of the sower.
Four diverse conditions of mind and heart must be
reckoned with in estimating the effect of truth. Hence
we have four lines of illustration which converge upon
the single thought, the paramount importance of hear
ing aright.
(a) "Some seeds fell by the way side." The ground
is hard trodden by much passing, and they do not sink
into it. They merely ,lie upon the surface to be picked
up by the birds.
There is the wayside mind. It "heareth the word of

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
the kingdom, and understandeth it not." The truth falls
upon the surface merely. It finds no lodgment. A child
listens to a lecture by some profound scientist, and how
much does he get from it ? Nothing at all. He hears the
words, but they are meaningless to him. They fall upon
his ear and are quickly forgotten. Or one who has no
musical training or taste hears a grand oratorio, but
its grandeur fails to impress him. He does not com
prehend it. The music falls on the outside of him, as it
were ; it finds no entrance into his soul.
"Understandeth it not." Whose fault is it? Are we
" responsible for our failure to understand truth ? In
many cases we are ; ' for our failure frequently results
from inattention, unwillingness, want of candor, rather
than from any real incapacity. We hear one thing while
we are thinking of another. We are not ready to yield
our Jives to the leadings of the truth. We are preju
diced against the speaker or the message or both and do
not give the truth fair consideration.
The path was not always hard ; remember that. Once
it was mellow like the rest of the field, but it has been
trodden hard by much travel. Hearts are hardened by
repeatedly hearing and not doing the truth. Says Rus
kin, "Every duty we omit obscures some truth we might
have known." This is what is meant by being "gospel-
hardened." All gospel truth is practical. God does not pro
pound to men certain theories to be discussed, certain
principles to be admired, certain abstract propositions
to be received and revolved in the mind like so many
theorems in geometry or arguments in mental phil
osophy. His word is not designed simply to instruct or
interest or amuse, but to affect the life, to produce a
radical change of motive and conduct. It reveals duties
to be done, commands to be obeyed, promises to be ac
cepted and fulfilled. And the value of that word to each
one lies in its direct and practical application to the in-

THE  SOWER
dividual life. If we continually hear such truth without
putting it into practise, we grow indifferent alike to
command and promise, conscience loses its keenness,
and our moral and spiritual development is retarded.
The truth we ought to understand without difficulty
becomes meaningless to us. It falls on our ears, but
finds no lodgment in our hearts and bears no fruit in our
characters. Is not this the supreme peril of the twen
tieth century churchgoer?
(b) "Others fell upon the rocky places." The thin
layer of earth upon some broad ledge is soft and warm
and the seed quickly springs up and as quickly withers.
Such are we when we keep our minds open and atten
tive, but our hearts hard closed beneath. It is one thing
Jo receive truth with the mind, quite another to receive
it with the heart. It is one thing to be orthodox,
another thing to be holy. And the fruit of truth is holi
ness. Any intelligent mind must receive truth with joy.
Even the criminal can admire lofty ideals and pure mo
tives. One cannot hear and understand the gospel
without approving it. Yet how many persons imagine
that there is something meritorious in the mere intel
lectual assent to truth ! How many expect to be admitted
to heaven on the ground of the truth they have known
and admired, though they never practised it!
Now, truth to be fruitful must sink deeper than the
mind. It must become rooted in the soul. It must
strike deep down into the heart. Truth received in the
mind springs up. There is a larger intelligence, a greater
breadth of thought. The outward appearance of the
life is more pleasing for having thus received the truth.
But when that truth comes in contact with daily duty,
when it threatens to cross selfish pleasure,, when it stands
between us and success, when it calls for some unwel
come service, then we too often repudiate its claim. It
is easy to be a Christian in theory, to accept God's truth

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
into our minds, to discuss lofty themes, to admire per
fect ideals,, to extol saintly character. But to let that truth
into our hearts, to take the perfect ideals as our standard
of daily life, to square all our conduct by them, to strive
for the attainment of saintly character in ourselves — that
is not so easy. Yet until we do this, the truth we hear
is fruitless and without value for us. "The important-
question regarding every man is not, How much truth
does he put into his creed? but, How much truth does
he put into his life?"
(c) "Others fell upon the thorns." There may be
good soil, but it is preoccupied. The seed is choked
and dies. That is your case, it is mine, when we allow
the cares of the world and the eager pursuit of riches-
to crowd God's truth from our minds and hearts. The
conventional interpretation of covetousness and world
ly anxiety comes at once to every mind. There is, how
ever, another interpretation, less obvious perhaps, but
not less important.
"Thorns" stand for any kind of weed that chokes out
the desired crop. Corn is a weed if it grows in a wheat-
field. The blackberry is only a troublesome thorn if it
springs up in the midst of a flower bed. So the mosF
innocent occupations and even praiseworthy actions may
become harmful if allowed to crowd vital truth from
our lives.
To be diligent in business is commendable in general.
But when we become so completely absorbed in busi
ness that we can think of nothing else or do nothing
else, when we permit the cares and plans of the week
day to invade the hallowed Sabbath, when our minds-
are so fully occupied with our toil that we cannot attend
to God's truth, then our very diligence becomes a vice.
-Many pleasures, too, are innocent till they interfere
with duty and hinder our obedience to higher truth ; then
they are no longer innocent ; they are thorns and weeds.
The very forms and services of religion, if they keep
10

THE  SOWER
us back from the performance of less congenial duty,
may become thorns. We really have less to fear in
these days from the positively evil than from the multi
tude of good things that overcrowd our lives. As Pres
ident Hyde has said, "The worst enemy of the best is the
good." The old proverb, "Of two evils choose the less,"
is out of date. To-day the exhortation must run, "Of
two good things always choose the better." Whatever
it is that comes into the mind or heart and prevents us
from hearing and obeying the voice of duty, is a thorn.
Each human life is a field of limited area. No one
life can contain everything. Among many good things'
we must be continually choosing the best. We must ask
concerning every claim that is presented to us, not
merely, "Is this good in itself?" but, "Is this the very-
best thing to which I can give my life just now?" We
must choose between pleasure and profit, even when the
pleasure is the best and most innocent. We must choose
between indulgence and service. We must choose be
tween inclination and duty. In short, we must be ever
ready to put aside from our lives the most pleasing and
harmless occupations to make way for the reception and
growth of highest truth. The fruit of to-day will become
the thorns of to-morrow, if we do not constantly make
room for the sowing and fruitage of better seed.
(d) "Others fell upon the good ground." There are
good hearers of truth. Their minds are attentive*"
Their- hearts are open. The word sinks deep. It lays
hold of the very springs of life and action. And so
the truth becomes fruitful in transformed life and ex
alted character, in Christian graces, in noble service.
Who are the good ground hearers? All may be such
who will. The possibilities of change in the soil are
limited. Not so is it with human hearts. We may make*
ourselves what we choose in this matter. As careless?
hearing hardens the heart, thoughtful hearing softens
it and fits it for fruit-bearing. 11

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Three qualities characterize the good hearer. They
are: i, attention; 2, sincerity; 3, obedience.
First, attention. I believe it is Lowell who says, "At
tention is the stuff that memory is made of ; and memory
is accumulated genius." We may go farther and say that
the memory of divine truth is accumulated blessing.
The habit of attention, which lies back of all, may be
cultivated. Second, sincerity. If attention is to be of value it
must be supplemented by sincerity. The truth must be
received into "an honest and good heart." Personal feel
ing, prejudice, self-interest, must not distort its appli
cation nor cause its purpose to miscarry.
Third, obedience. This is most important of all. The
truth must be obeyed. It is truth obeyed that transforms'
the life, that redeems the world. It is not the preaching
of the gospel, nor the hearing of the gospel, but the
-practise of the gospel, that blesses mankind. The great
need of the world to-day as always is the need of applied>
Christianity, of the gospel revealing itself in our daily
life and in all the relations of mankind.
Attention, sincerity, obedience, these are all volun
tary attitudes of the 'intelligent mind. They are condi- ,
tipns for the fulfilment of which every individual is'
directly responsible. To hear aright is a universal priv
ilege, a universal duty.
The result of right hearing is assured. "It brought
forth fruit, some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, and
some thirtyfold." What is the fruit of truth? Knowl
edge? culture? enlightenment? No. These accompany
the fruit. They lend beauty and attractiveness to the
growing plant, but, after all, they are only the leaves.
The fruit is character. The truth that informs but does
not transform is of little value. The truth that works^
upon the mind alone, while it fails to reach the heart
and life, has not accomplished its mission.
18

THE  SOWER
Some of the most godless characters of history have
been men and women who prided themselves in their
knowledge and appreciation of divine truth. Like the
Pharisees of old, they had received it into their minds,
but it had exerted no influence upon their lives. And
many of those who to-day block the wheels of human
progress and hinder the redemption of society are men
whose lives are beautiful with the foliage of Christian
enlightenment — refined, educated, polite, pious — but
who are wholly wanting in the spirit of brotherly love
and self-sacrifice.
Now let us glance once more at the parable. We
have dissected it; let us gather its parts together again.
Let us think of it for a moment as a complete unit, a
living organism.
Do we not almost invariably think of this picture as
representing four distinct persons or classes of persons?
And does it not follow in our thinking that only one
section of the parable can possibly apply to ourselves?
And so we throw away three-fourths of it as having
nothing for us. Fortunate if we keep even one-fourth !
Ah! take heed how ye hear! The whole parable was
spoken for you. It represents four possible conditions
of your mind and heart. Hence every part of it speaks
directly to your soul.
Who is the wayside hearer? Thou art the man.
Have you never lost truth through inattention, or un
willingness, or want of obedience?
Who is the rocky ground hearer? Thou art the man.
Your grasp of. truth is sometimes shallow. You receive
truth many times into your mind to which you do not
open your heart.
Who is represented by the thorny ground? Thou art
the man. Is not your life oftentimes preoccupied with
other things, so that the truth you hear is choked before
it comes to fruitage? Do you never allow business, or
study or pleasure or politics to fill the place in your
13

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
heart that ought to be kept clear for the cultivation of
character and the direct service of God?
Who receives seed in the good ground? Again, thou
art the man, if thou dost choose. For such receiving
is in the power of every hearer. You can attend. You
can treat the truth with candor. You can obey it. And
so you can make it fruitful in your life.
Seeds of truth fall daily upon every life. In them lie
the germs of character. Their legitimate fruit is en
nobled manhood and womanhood. All the graces and
attributes of perfect humanity must spring from them.
These cannot be found elsewhere. If you and I fall be
low the true standard, it is not for want of truth, but
because we do not hear the truth aright.
—On every hand is the voice of God, yet we often com
plain that we do not hear it. We excuse our small at
tainments on the ground of lack of privilege. But how
many saints have developed the fruits of the Spirit from
a much more scanty sowing! Jacob heard the voice of""
God in a dream, and he became the noblest character of
his age. David heard the voice of God amid the din of
war and the roaring of the storm, and the portrait of
his sainthood is given us in the Psalms. Elijah heard
the voice of God in the quiet whisperings of conscience,
and it brought forth the fruit of immortal heroism. Saul
of Tarsus heard the voice of God in the thunder and was
transformed from a persecuting Pharisee into a Chris
tian saint. Martin Luther heard the voice of God in a
flash of memory, and it was the turning-point in his
career and character.
The same voice speaks to you. Have not you and I
more and higher truth revealed to us than any of these
enjoyed? If, then, we fall short of their attainments,
who is responsible for our fruitlessness ? The seed is
abundant and good. The soil, the soil, the trouble is
with that. Take heed how ye hear!

14

The Vitality
of Character

CHAPTER II
The Vitality of
Character
THE GROWING SEED
Mark 4:26-29
Text.— "The earth beareth fruit of herself. "—Mark 4:28
OUR life is twofold. It is made up of ele
ments human and divine. These must work
together for all really valuable results.
Hence the gospel is twofold in its appeal.
Its truth adapts itself to both sides of our
dual nature. Its teaching recognizes the necessary har
mony and interplay of the two elements in the attain
ment of the perfect life.
The Christian life, then, is a^^^^p^g'^^result of hu
man anrl duana- forces working together. This_fact_it
-is which gave-birth— to the parable of "The Growing
Seed." as a_ companion piece to thp__ pwafrfp— rrf-fiXhp
Sower." The parable of "The Sower" unfolds the truth as it
applies to the human— side^of life, i. <*-, to_d"jy "The
preparations of the hpart belong to man." Repentance,
conversion, concentrated activity ; these are our_part in
the work of salvation^ — These ar-e_ihings which we
must do and which God cannot do for us. We are di
rectly and solely responsible for hearing truth aright
and acting upon it. On the-other hand, the salvation
which resultg_from these is rhp gift nf Hnrl. Keirpnpra-
tifHTj, sanriifirarirjn^jgnwrh in grace-»-iJiPsp ary wholly^nf
17

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
God. They are the response 6f divine love to. our human
obedience and desire. The results which the gospel
seeks are stupendous; yet the duties which it lays upon
men are simple and easy of accomplishment. Attention,
obedience, service, devotion on our part, and then a quiet
trusting in God for the rest. "Follow me"; that is the
challenge of human obedience. "I will make you fishers
of men" (or whatsoever else you ought to be) ; that is
the promise of divine assistance; commonplace acts of
duty by the disciple; miracles of power and achieve
ment by the Master.
The parable of "The Sower" is preliminary. This
parable introduces us directly to the central "theme of
Jesus' teaching — "The Kingdom of God" or "The King
dom of Heaven."
Pardon a brief definition, since this is the common
theme of a large number of parables, and our interpre
tation of the entire group depends on our understand
ing of this phrase. What 4oes Jesus mean when he
uses the phrase "kingdom of God" or "kingdom of
heaven" ? Does he refer to the Christian Church^which
wasjn sonn tn hp nrgam^prf? Clearly not; for the
CHurch is an external organization, whereas he says,
"The kingdom of God is within you.'' Does he then
look forward to the conditions of a future_life in another
world? No;for that would imply a perfect order of
things, and the parable of "The Tares among the
Wheat" proclaims the imperfect conditions of earth.
We shall look far before we find a better definition
than that given by St. Paul, "Thekingdom of God
is^_ .._ . Righteousness and pegrejmrl jny~Th thp TTnly
Spirit." In a word, the kingdorrr~ot~"Gud \^~chmnpter.
godly character—revealing itse1f_jn__pjv^rV rpl^FTr^i of
earth, godly character incarnate in_^iuinaiLTiyis^dlbe-
commg_jriQre_and_jmc*e_wia^^ in^_uniyersal
hujnanity. Thekingdom oEGo^ii^ithin you ; it is with
in alLjnejiJaJthe-£x4Enij)f_^j^o^^ of
IS

THE GROWING SEED
the godly character. Its consummation is a redeemed
world "wherein dwelleth righteousness," a race in which
the divine character is perfectly restored.
This definition calls for neither argument nor expan
sion. It claims no other authority than its self-evident
truthfulness. It is sufficient to test it by its adaptability
to the conditions of each of the succeeding parables.
Starting from this definition we see in the parable be
fore "us a picture of The Vitality qf —Godly Character.
It unfolds the principles ofspiritual growth, the mode of
spiritual attainment. And this is what it tells us : godly
character is not a mechanical production; it is a man-
ifejtatipn__of_life. It cannot be fashioned by human
hands, it cannot~be created by human ingenuity or effort,
but is the immediate product of the divine efficiency.
There are certain things which we can do and which
we must do in connection with the process. We must
keep our hearts continually open to the influence of truth
and must scatter truth diligently upon other hearts.
We must keep the spiritual soil in good condition and
court the sunshine of God's presence and the showers
jeri hisBlessing. But when this has been done diligently
and faithfully we must leave the results with him, as
sured that in due time we shall reap as we have sown.
Every growing plant of the summer time is a silent wit
ness to the power and willingness of God to carry on
these marvelous vital processesjf we but make the-simple
qrljiig<^TPiTj^_nfjiqtnrp whicTT^rp--witHfi our reach.
So much for the general sweep of the parable. Now,
what of its particular teaching? What do we find as
we note its consecutive details? At least four distinct
thoughts discover themselves to our search. They are
these: lift v*- &- •%&Jgj&[£^*ifJ*to - -- .- ¦
(a) The vital process is slow. It Vs a gradual process.
He "should sleep and rise night and day, and the seed
should spring up and grow." 19

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
(b) The vital process is secret. It is enshrouded in
mystery. It should "grow, he knoweth not how."
(c) The vital processes spontg^eous. TfTis not some
thing done from without, but is the direct product of an
indwelling force. "The earth beareth fruit of herself."
(d) The vital process is su£gT~TX~iTTfiii fulfilment of,
a regular and eternal law. "First the blade, then the
ear, after that the full corn in the ear."
First, I say, the parable suggests the slowness of the
vital process. The development of life is always grad
ual and imperceptible. We sometimes say of a plant
that we can see it grow ; but that is mere hyperbole.
ThcPseed is sown, and for days it lies hiddefPhr the
ground. It is moistened by showers and warmed by the
sun, and, at length, a tiny shoot appears. In course of
time we shall see a full-grown plant and ripened ears of
grain. Yet we can scarcely say how or when this great
change has taken place. As we have watched it from
day to day we have observed no sudden or marked tran
sitions. There has been no perceptible movement. The
expansion has not been discernible by human eyes. The
plant seems no larger to-day than yesterday. But when
we note the growth of weeks or months we see a grad
ual progress through all the stages of advancing
maturity. Slow and gradual also is the growth of character;
for character is a living thing ; it is a spiritual organism.
There is no instantaneous perfection. The Scriptures
do not reveal any short cut to mature sainthood. If
they did so we should doubt their truthfulness and value.
We must grow in spiritual experience and knowledge
and power as we grow in physical stature and strength,
as the plant grows from its seed — by a process so grad
ual that its working eludes observation, but so real and
so constant that its stages are manifest to all. Doubtless
there will be periods of unusually rapid soul growth,
periods when we are conscious of making great progress
20

THE GROWING SEED
in the divine life, just as boys and girls grow much
faster at one time than at another, or as plants develop
with redoubled quickness under the influence of the early
summer rains. Yet, after all, spiritual growth must be
step by step through all the regular gradations of expe
rience, which are in essence the same for all disciples. We
must add to faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, and to
knowledge temperance, and to temperance patience, and
so on to the end of the catalogue. We can neither omit
any stage of the vital process nor slight any experience
that comes to us in the way. And we must remember that
even the time element is essential to perfect maturity.
We are often impatient at this gradual process. We
wish to attain to the fulness of the stature of Christ at
a bound, to enjoy the fruits of victory without first endur
ing the hardships of the protracted struggle. We wish,
in other words, to reap the full corn within a few days
or even a few hours of the seed-sowing. Could anything
be more absurd or unreasonable ? An Oriental juggler
will plant a seed in the earth m the presence of an audi
ence and will apparently causelt to sprout and a plant
to grow up and mature in a few minutes ; but everybody
knows that it is mere jugglery, that there has been no
real growth there. How does he accomplish the feat?
That I cannot answer. I only know that there is some
deception about it. He never performs the feat in his
garden, but only on the stage.
So any fancied spiritual growth that occurs in a few
moments is a deception. The doctrine of instan
taneous perfection is spiritual jugglery. Conversion is
instantaneous, never otherwise. Sanctification may be
instantaneous; I will not dogmatize about that. But
development, growth — that is always gradual.
Character, as the product of growth, is of slow attain
ment. It demands a lifetime for its ripening. Our
noblest characters have been the fruitage of many gen
erations of consecration and earnest aspiration. Oliver
21

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Wendell Holmes' advice has passed into a proverb, "Be
gin the training of a child a hundred years before he is
born !" Heredity is an important factor in the formation
of character. But since we must begin with that, whether
good or bad, we are chiefly concerned with the years be
tween birth and death, and they all count. Jesus' ideal is
that gradual but steady development of spiritual power
and grace, that daily expansion of soul, that reveals itself
to the world in added virtues and increasing usefulness.
Such growth, though at times it may try the patience and
test the courage of the disciple, will be permanent and
abundantly fruitful.
In the second place, our parable suggests the truth that
the vital process is secret or mysterious. Watch it close
ly as we will, it eludes our investigation. We cannot un
derstand it. In its simplest manifestations it infinitely
transcends the most profound work of man. Here, for
example, is a magnificent temple in process of erection.
We both see and understand the method of work by
which its massive towers and arched roof are brought to
gradual completion. Or, here again is a delicately con
structed watch whose hands move so slowly as they mark
off the hours that we cannot see their motion ; yet we can
trace that motion backward through systems of wheels
till it becomes quite perceptible and its rate easily cal
culated. That is dead mechanics. But the growth, the
vital development of the most commonplace weed is ut
terly beyond our ken. In it is bound up the very knowl
edge of God himself. As the seer has said :
"Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies ;
Hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower; — but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is."
That the flower grows we can easily demonstrate by
successive measurements. How it grows we cannot dis-
22

THE GROWING SEED
cover by the most persistent investigation. In fact, too
curious and frequent examination may stop the process
by destroying the vital principle.
So of character. Its growth is secret, mysterious, and
by no care or wisdom of ours to be understood or ex
plained. The very effort is suicidal. Whoever keeps his
eyes turned in upon his own soul that he may discover the
secret and rate of its growth will surely paralyze his
spiritual life. He will inevitably become selfish, morbid,
and wholly unspiritual. »
Religious teachers of the past enjoined frequent and
exhaustive self-examination as a means of attaining per
fect sainthood. Result — a mechanical and Christless
Phariseeism in place of living and growing spirituality.
One intelligent glance at the open page of nature would
have sufficed to convince them of their mistake. Growth
is mysterious. What you see is not growth; it cannot
be. Whoever fancies himself conscious of daily spirit
ual growth is self-deceived. "The kingdom of God com
eth not with observation." Self-contemplation hinders
growth; virtue stagnates with introspection.
Says Carlyle: "Tf in anv sphere of man's life, then in
the. moral sphere, as in the inmost and mosFvitaj_ol~all,
it is__good that there "be wholeness; that there be un
consciousness which is the evidence ot this. Let the tree,
reasonabjejrilLwhich dwells m~us. as_in 6ur~Ho~ly of
HQEesT~be indeed free^-ancL. obeyed like a divinity^ as'
is its righjuandjits effort ; .lhe.-perfect_obedience-will be
theZsilent one."
The most infallible token of healthy spiritual growth
is entire unconsciousness of growth, entire forgetfulness
of all selfward interests, even the highest, in the eager
ness of service and devotion to the will of God. Every
blade of grass, every spear of wheat, every stalk of corn,
is a miracle of divine power whose secret working we
have not begun to fathom. Is not a redeemed and per
fected character an unspeakably greater miracle? And
23

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
shall we try to understand the greater while we are
ignorant of the less ?
Again, we are reminded by our parable that the vital
process is spontaneous. That is to say, it is the natural
and inevitable result of the working of vital force. It
is the necessary expression of vitality. The seed grows
of itself, we say. No direct effort of man can accomplish
the process. We can only affect it indirectly by sur
rounding the seed with circumstances which shall be
favorable or unfavorable to the operation of these in
herent vital forces. We can clear away obstacles and
leave the forces free for best action or we can clog and
hamper them.
Professor Drummond has made this point very clear.
"A boy_ grows," he_says, "withgujjxying. One or two
simpIe~conditions are fulfilled and the growth goes on.
He thinks probably as little about the conditions as about
the result ; he fulfils the conditions by habit, the result fol
lows by nature. Both processes go on steadily from year
to year apart from himself and all but in spite of himself.
One would neverthink of telling a boy to grow._ A
doctofTias_jio__pHsc»pS©H-4©r^^how growth may be stunted or impaired, butTthe process
itself is recognized as beyond control — one of the few,
and therefore very significant, things which nature keeps
in her own hands. No physician of souls in like manner
has any prescription for spiritual growth. It is a ques
tion he is most often asked and most often answers
wrongly. He may prescribe more earnestness, more
prayer, more self-denial, or more Christian work.
These are prescriptions for something, but not for
growth. . . . Manuals for devotion, with complicated
rules for getting on in the Christian life, would do well
sometimes to return to the simplicity of nature ; and earn
est souls who are attempting sanctification by struggle in
stead of sanctification by faith might be spared much hu
miliation by learning the botany of Jesus. There can
24

THE GROWING SEED
be no other principle of growth than this. It is a vital
fact. And to try to make a thing grow is as absurd as
to help the tide to come in or the sun to rise."
Goethe has summed up the same thought in one preg
nant sentence, "While, one strives, he errs."
The fruits of the Spirit are not the lifeless products
of the sculptor's chisel or the triumphs of the artist's
skill. _Ihev— axe_living~things. graces which have_grown
from the seed of truth by means of the vital force hid
den within it. They are the manifestations of divine
power working in and through the human soul for its
perfection and eternal progress. They constitute what
Matthew Arnold calls, "The eternal not ourselves that
makes for righteousness."
Finally, our parable illustrates the fact that the vital
process is sure. It is the result of a fixed, divine law.
There is no chance or caprice in nature. Still
less is there any failure. Everything follows a regu
lar and clearly defined order. The sequence of cause
and effect is certain. To obtain desired results the ob
served conditions must be fulfilled. When we have made
the proper adjustments of cause, we may depend upon
the unvarying action of divine power to produce un
varying results. Mysterious and spontaneous most cer
tainly growth is, but capricious or uncertain never. It
is as changeless as the God on whose power it depends.
Nor is it otherwise in the kingdom of God. We talk
about revivals and baptisms of the Spirit, -which, argjbut
two phases in the growth oT^odTiEe character- asJthaugh
they were matters of .uncertainty or chance. — We lament
our own unspirituality or excuse the slow, growth of
the- kingdom in the world about us in terms which im
ply^ degree of capriciousness in the working of divine
powjt We think of God's Spirit as flitting about like
a butterfly, lighting now here and now there, and bring
ing to this soul or that community a wonderful uplift
from without. Such notions are ruinous to spiritual de-
25

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
velopment either in the soul or in the community. What
is the Holy Spirit but this vital element, this Power of
God actually resident in every soul, in every communi
ty, and ever waiting for the favorable conditions to man
ifest himself in the growth of Christian character!
God works according to fixed laws in the redemption of
men. There is no more uncertainty^ _in the spiritual
realm than in the material We mayobtain heavenly
harvests as surely and as regularly as the earthly, "if" we
are as diligent and as wisein sowing the seed and~cul-
tiyating- the soil. Ihe "Reign of— Law'' is an accepted
postulate" of all physical science. When TEs~apprrcation
to the spiritual life_is_ commonly recognizeH7~wtien the
spiritual husbandman uses the same common sense in
his work that is required for ordinary farming,~trlen the
kingdom of God will have entered upon a new era of
progress. Slow, secret, spon±aneousv_sure — these are the tokens
of growth in Christian character which indicate its vi
tality. It is this element of vitality that sharply distin
guishes between Christian character and all its counter
feits. This it is which differentiates between spirituality
and morality. By a process of self-restraint and reso
lution we can build up a morality that may resemble
some noble temple in its beauty and grandeur , but it will
be, after all, a lifeless thing, mechanical, limited, incom
plete. The true Christly character, on the other hand,
is the manifestation of the divine life in the soul, at first
insignificant, but daily growing and developing, capable
of limitless expansion, having endless possibilities of
progress. No mere philosopher is Jesus, painting ideals of life
and character to be wrought out by human wisdom and
human power. Rather is he the incarnation and re
vealer of that divine force which alone can produce true
and holy character. Simple indeed is his statement of
human duty. Attention, trust, obedience— these are all
26

THE GROWING SEED
that he requires; but, as a result of these, wrought out
through the direct efficiency of divine power, a complete
transformation of character, social and individual, is
acquired. If the former parable may be summed up in
the words, "Work out your own salvation with fear and
trembling," this adds the words, "For it is God who
worketh in you both to will and to work, for his good
pleasure."

27

The Conservation
of Character

CHAPTER III
The Conservation
of Character
THE WHEAT AND THE TARES
Matt. 13:24-30, 36^13
Text. — "Let both grow together until the harvest. " — Matt. 13 :30
THE ideal of character is pure virtue. The
ideal of society is universal righteousness.
The ideal of religion is good unmixed with
U\.n But where, among men, can" these be
found? Utopia exists only in the poetic
imagination. The perfect society is a dream yet unreal
ised. The practical experience of every-day life on
earth- always "reveals the evil in closest fellowship
with tiie good. As we never find pure gold in masses,
but in minutest grains mingled with sand or scattered
through the worthless rock, and as the wheat comes to
us encased in chaff, so your saint generally betrays
some very- tmsaintly traits, your church has its faithless
disciples, your society has its incorrigibles, your family
has/ jts. "black sheep." In short, wherever the Son of
man sows the good seed of righteousness, the devil is
pretty" sure to get in some tares- of evil. Even among
our Lord's apostles one was a Judas.
No picture; therefore, in all that lakeside panorama,
is more familiar, none more painfully true to the com
mon experience than this: "The kingdom of heaven is
likened unto a man that sowed good seed ' in his field :
but while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares
31

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
also among the wheat, and went away. But when the
blade sprang up and brought forth fruit, then appeared
the tares also."
To every soul this world is at first a repository of
good seed. The sowing of the Son of man is abundant
on every hand. For a time we are unconscious of any
thing else. The child mind with its innocent superficial-
ness sees in everything and everybody the expression of
truth and purity, the inspiration to new gladness. But
with growing intelligence and deepening insight there
comes a sad experience of disillusion. At some time or
other much that was hitherto supposed to be good wheat
proves to be worthless tares. Unexpected conditions
reveal themselves, and the theory of life must be read
justed to meet them.
Evil exists. Try as we may, we cannot long delude
ourselves with the notion that evil is either unreal or
good. While we sleep it may be unobserved , but when
we awake it confronts us and we must reckon with it.
More and more clearly the fact forces itself upon us
as we grow in intelligence and moral character. No
good can be attempted anywhere, much less achieved
without conflict with evil.
We find the evil first in our own hearts. The effort
to build up personal character is a lifelong struggle
with evil passions, desires, habits. What disciple of
experience and thoughtfulness has not often been im
pelled to confess with Paul, "The good which I would
I do not: but the evil which I would not, that I prac
tise." "When I would do good, evil is present with
me"! The new-born soul may expect, frequently does
.expect, that regeneration will bring immediate and per
manent release from all temptation, .that in one brief
moment all traces of evil will be eradicated from his
heart never again to assert themselves. But after the
first emotional ecstasy is past he learns that what he
mistook for the note of victory was really the trumpet-
33

THE WHEAT AND THE TARES
call to battle. Enlistment is but a prelude to the drill
of the camps and the toil of the march and the field.
Only he that endureth to the end shall be saved.
And when we turn our eyes away from self, and look
on the world round about us, do we not meet with a sim
ilar experience? Who that has ever tried to scatter
the seeds of righteousness, to build up the kingdom
of God among men, has not, met opposing forces at
eve'ry turn? Did the power of the Holy Spirit ever be
gin to manifest itself in a church or a community but
the devil at once redoubled his activity? A revival of
religion always means a counter revival of wickedness.
No effort of good, however self-evident and disinter
ested, but will arouse opposition and meet with mis
representation. It exactly accords with observed laws
that the period of Jesus' ministry on earth should also
be a period of unusual Satanic activity, a period when
men, more than ever before or since, were "possessed
with devils."
But the fact ithat evil exists needs no emphasis. It
obtrudes itself whether we will or no* We at once ask,
Whence does it come? And what shall we do with it?
The servants of the householder came and said unto
him: "Sir, didst thou not sow good seed in thy field?
whence then hath it tares?" This is always the first
question; yet it is a question of comparatively slight
importance. It is therefore answered briefly. "An
enemy hath done this." Even the further explanation,
"The enemy that sowed them is the devil," does not
add much to our knowledge of the subject.
We waste a great deal of time and strength in search
ing for an answer to the question, "Whence then hath
it tares?" A child displays some unlovely trait, and,
instead of giving our undivided attention to the work
of correcting the evil, we begin to ask, "From whom
does he take it?" Or we ourselves yield to some evil
propensity, and we immediately trace the stream of evil
33

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
tendency to a remote ancestor on whose shoulders _ we
lay all the blame for our wrong doing or wrong wishing.
Now the study of heredity is doubtless of great value
in its proper place ; but it is out of place in the presence
of manifest evil. There the first and chief thought
should be of cure. It may be interesting from a scien
tific standpoint to know that this habit was inherited
from one's grandfather and that unchristly spirit from
a long forgotten great-aunt; but is it not unspeakably
more important to know how the bad habit may be
cured or the evil spirit exorcised? There is a lot of
sheer pedantry in the modern discussion of heredity.
Worse than that, it is made the scapegoat for all manner
of shortcomings and iniquities. Because of it parents
excuse the inexcusable faults of their children and their
own indolent neglect to correct those faults. Because
of it the categorical imperative of righteousness is often
exchanged for the weak-kneed interrogative of unman-
liness and sin.
Of much greater practical value, therefore, is the sec
ond question of the laborers, "Wilt thou then that we go
and gather them up ?" In other words, What shall we do
with the evil now th^we have discovered it? How
shall we remove it?^This is the question around which
/the parable clusters/'' It is the question about which the
mind'of all humanity is agitated to-day. And the story of
The Tares and the Wheat embodies our Lord's answer
to every questioning mind.
The Conservation of Christly Character — that is the
topic suggested. Evil springs up everywhere in closest
contact with the good. It touches the good on all sides.
It crowds upon it, is intermingled with it, counterfeits it,
threatens it. How shall the good be saved from con
tamination? How shall its best development be secured?
The proposal of the servants illustrates the purely
human method of dealing with the question. "Wilt thou
then that we go and gather them up?" Shall we turn
34

THE WHEAT AND THE TARES
from the wheat to the tares? Shall we cease to think
about and cultivate the good, and concentrate our force
and our attention upon the evil? This is, I say, the uni
versal human method. Our first impulse in this work is
always negative, to root up, to destroy.
Take the matter of individual character. A soul
awakens to the consciousness of its divine nature, of its
spiritual possibilities. Aspirations towards the Christ-
life are kindled. But there are unchristly habits and
tempers. What shall be done with these? "Root them
up," "Cast them out," says the teacher of moral phil
osophy ; and often he does this in the name of the gospel.
Straightway the evils are made the object of a vigorous
attack. At the beginning of a new year or on some
special anniversary, strong resolutions are made never
again to yield to the temper or indulge the evil habit.
Sometimes these resolutions are buttressed with vows
and pledges of the most solemn kind. Yet in most
cases they are broken as soon as made. And when
kept, it is often at the expense of moral strength and
effort that might have been used to much better advan
tage in the direct service of the Lord.
Salvation by resolution is always a disastrous failure.
How many there are who, having struggled earnestly
against some evil habit and been defeated, have become
discouraged, and the very aspirations towards right
eousness that had begun to form themselves in the soul
have been uptorn and destroyed! How many, too, of
stronger will have conquered in the fight, but have so
exhausted their time and strength in the warfare that
they have accomplished nothing else! They have won
the victory, it is true, but it has been an empty triumph.
It has brought them no return adequate to the outlay.
Such a life is like a garden in which the gardener has
so busied himself with keeping out the weeds that he
has had no time to raise any fruit. It is like a fortress
35

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
so careful for its own defense that it affords no protec
tion to the surrounding country.
Again, take the phrase "kingdom of heaven" in its
larger sense — the kingdom in the world, the Christly
character in the race. How have men sought to de
velop that? Before the advent of Jesus but one method
was known. The Hebrews waged a war of extermina
tion against the ungodly inhabitants of Canaan. Had
their power increased and the national growth made it
possible, the same policy would have been carried the
world over. The Hebrews were only following more
earnestly and consistently than others the universal ideal.
What they did the Mohammedan has done since, is doing
to-day, so far as he is able. And the Christian Church
has often tried to do the same, notwithstanding the plain
teachings of Jesus.
The history of the Church has been chiefly a history of
repeated conflicts with heresy and sin. It has been aj|
continuous effort to save the world by rooting out evilJ
Just as soon as the Church escaped the severity of Jew
ish and heathen persecutions, she became in her turn the
persecutor of those who did not conform to her ideals
of truth and life. When the age of persecution passed,
there came the age of controversy and argument. And
to-day many an earnest disciple wastes his power in argu
ing against infidelity or some minor error in religious
teaching when he should use it all in preaching a posi
tive gospel of truth and love.
"The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the
Church," said a discerning writer. No less true is it
that the blood of many who have been persecuted or
punished for wrong-doing has been the seed of greater
and more persistent evil. The greatest infidel of the last
century owed not a little of his reputation and power
to the fact that some very respectable Christians tried
to root up his teachings by argument.
The devil is never better pleased than when he can
36

THE WHEAT AND THE TARES
keep Christians busy with the negative work of trying
to root out evil ; for he knows that a good deal of real
wheat will come up too. The infidel won a great many
more disciples after England's great Christian states
man paid him the compliment of a logical duel. Every
false teaching gains a larger influence over a certain
class of minds by the very attacks made upon it in the
supposed interests of truth. Every sermon preached
against error is a free advertisement of the error. The
voice of universal experience, therefore, confirms the
advice of the wise husbandman, "Nay; lest haply while
ye gather up the tares, ye root up the wheat with them."
The divine method of solving this great question is
indicated in the words that follow : "Let both grow to
gether, until the harvest." In contrast with the human
method which is negative, the divine method is positive.
It is not "root up," but "let grow."
In the cultivation of personal character, this means
consecration instead of resolution. That is to say, we
shall grow in Christliness of spirit and life, not by mak
ing ever new and stronger resolutions against our un-
christly qualities, but by positively devoting all our
powers to the service of the Master, and never stopping
to think of the evil at all.
The mind is invaded by evil thoughts; what shall we
do about it? Drive them out? Resolve not
to admit them any more? No. That were
worse than useless. Evil thoughts and feelings
the more resolved against become the more deeply
entrenched. What, then, shall we do? Let them alone.
Pay no attention to them. Fill the mind with good
thoughts. "Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever
things are honorable, whatsoever things are just, what
soever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely,
whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any
virtue, and if there be any praise, think (think posi
tively and persistently) on these things." If we do this,
37

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
the thoughts of evil will soon cease to trouble us, for
they will be crowded out of the mind.
So with speech. We may sometimes accomplish a
trifling reform by resolving and vigorously striving
against hasty, careless or impure speech; but if we con
secrate our tongues to the service of God, speaking
always and everywhere for him, the victory is won un
consciously and without a struggle.
Why not follow the same plan with all things that
hinder the growth of saintly character? Let every pow
er of body and mind be fully occupied with active
service for Christ. Fill time and strength with the
good, and the evil will be crowded out. Human life is
like a measure of limited capacity, or like a field of
limited area. Fill it with activity of one kind and it
cannot contain more. Let streams of good thoughts and
good deeds flow in on every side, and all evil will of
necessity be driven out. But so long as we do not allow
the good to flow in, we resolve and fight in vain against
the evil.
A well-meaning but idle young fellow often fell into
temptation and sin because of his idleness, and as often
came to his pastor in deep contrition and asked him
to pray with him that he might not fall again. At
length the pastor saw the folly of such a course and said
in reply to another request of the familiar sort, "Pray
for you ! What is the use ? I have prayed for you again
and again and you are no better for it. Go and get a
steady job, and then I will pray for you if you need it."
The young man followed his pastor's advice and then
found that he had no need of his prayers for that par
ticular weakness.
The great diving-bell goes down into the sea, and,
although it is open underneath, no water enters.
The bell is filled with air, hence no water can enter.
The true life is like a diving-bell let down into the sea
of temptation and sin. If it be filled with the breath of
38

THE WHEAT AND THE TARES
God, crowded with the atmosphere of devotion and lov
ing service, temptation cannot enter. That must remain
outside the life, dark but harmless. The empty life, on
the other hand, however pure and earnest it may be,
invites temptation and offers itself an easy prey to the
assaults of sin.
The best way to conquer your vices is to cultivate your
virtues. The best way to avoid temptation is to fill your
life with active service.
In relation to others, also, our efforts should be posi
tive. The world suffers from negative preaching and
from negative striving. There are too many reformers
whose only ideal is to root up and tear down. Too
many are eager to break the images which others wor
ship while they themselves worship nothing but the break
ing. That is their only religion. There are hundreds
of men ready to tell their fellows what not to believe
for every one who will show them something worth be
lieving. Hundreds are ready to say, "Thou shalt not,"
for one to say, "Thou shalt." What are skepticism and
infidelity but endless negatives? As Christians we need
to guard ourselves carefully against copying the
methods of our opponents in our effort to overcome
them. "Let both grow together," is the Master's word.
What? Shall we let false teaching grow side by side
with the true, with never an attempt to refute it? Cer
tainly. Our one duty as disciples of Jesus is to proclaim
God's truth and to prove it true by our transformed
lives. The world may not discern the difference between
true and false teaching at a glance; but the world does
know the difference between love and selfishness, be
tween honesty and fraud, between purity and foulness.
If we preach and practise a gospel of purity and kind
ness and helpfulness, we need have little fear of any
false teaching that does not show these good fruits.
Any natural interpretation of the parable cannot evade
3S

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
its bearing upon the commonly accepted notions of
church dipciplinp- True, so prominent an expositor as
Xrridt says, The parable condemns persecution, but it
seems not to bear upon discipline at all. Arguments
against the exclusion of unworthy members, founded on
this parable, are nothing else than perversions of Scrip
ture." But it would be difficult to find a more palpable
perversion of Scripture than that by which Mr. Arnot
himself reaches his conclusion. It is nothing more nor
less than a piece of exegetical juggling. Even Dr. Dods
is so far influenced by conventional interpretations that
he declares, "This parable, it is true, is not a guide for
the action of the rulers of the Church towards its mem
bers ; but, indirectly, a warning against hasty action is
given to those in authority." Why this particular ex
ception should be made in the application of the truth
here taught does not appear to the common mind. Were
it not better to face the universal application of the
truth, and to make no exceptions?
True Christianity implies tolerance. It is not, how
ever, a tolerance born of indifference. It is rather the
tolerance that grows out of positive activity in right di
rections. It is the tolerance that comes from being too
busy with our own work ever to worry about the work
of our neighbors. It is tolerance made necessary by the
fact that we are so absorbed in the fulfilment of im
perative duty that we have no time nor strength for
controversy. To every challenge of untruth or opposi
tion it replies with Nehemiah, "I am doing a great work,
so that I cannot come down."
Again, in the matter of modern reforms, do we not
too of ten expend"*6ur force in negative effort? Take the
temperance work, tor example. I sometimes wonder if
we are not giving too much time and thought to attacks
upon intemperance. By prohibitory and similar methods
we endeavor to root up the evil; but do we as eagerly
cultivate the positive virtue of temperance? Do we
40

THE WHEAT AND THE TARES
think of supplying something that shall displace the
evil habit we seek to cure? This evil, like many an
other, is the outgrowth of certain natural cravings in
human life. It may spring from the desire for good
fellowship, or from want of occupation, or similar cause.
When we have removed temptation we have accom
plished but half the work, and that the less important
half. There still remains the necessity of filling that
part of the life thus left vacant.
There is room for progress in the direction of posi
tive effort. The age to come must be an age of building
rather than of tearing down, an age of cultivation and
development rather than an age of restriction. Its key
note must be "Thou shalt," instead of "Thou shalt not."
We must try to lead men in the development of their
best powers and tendencies rather than in the repression
of their worst.
Let both grow — and what will be the result? Plainly
this, that the wheat will attain its best growth. But
what of the tares ? "In the time of the harvest I will say
to the reapers, Gather up first the tares, and bind them in
bundles to burn them." Or, as our Lord interprets the
picture, "The Son of man shall send forth his angels,
and they shall gather out of his kingdom all things that
cause stumbling, and them that do iniquity, and shall cast
them into the furnace of fire."
These figures tell us little regarding the method by
which the result is to be brought about. That is not the
intention. The thought is purposely centered upon one
point — our duty in the matter. Enough for us to know
that it is not our business to root out the evil. Enough
for us to turn our whole attention and strength to doing
God's work. But the fact is made clear that our effort
will not be in vain. Character will be perfected, and
evil will at last be removed and destroyed. The good
alone is eternal. Righteousness is immortal.
What we call evil has its purpose in the economy of
41

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
God's kingdom. We do not understand it; but we are
assured that when its purpose is accomplished the evil
will trouble us no longer. Whether by the development
of grace even through the discipline of sin the sin itself
is gradually crowded out and dies, or whether it is
removed by some external divine process at the last, is
a matter of least moment. Sufiicient to know that if we
do the work God gives us to do, we shaflat last be free
from the presence and power of sin, and shall serve
him in the glorious liberty of the sons of God.

42

The Growth of
Character

CHAPTER IV
The Growth of
Character
THE MUSTARD SEED
Matt. 13:31, 32; Mark 4:30-32; Luke 13:18, 19
Text. — "Less than all seeds j but . . . greater than the herbs ." —
Matt. 13:32
IF there is one thing more wonderful about a seed
than its vitality, it is its growth — the great results
that spring from small beginnings. The fact of
growth is in and of itself a greater miracle than
the method of growth. Hold a tiny acorn
in your hand as you stand beside some gigantic
oak, and try to imagine that enormous and
solid body compressed within the little shell. The
mere working of the vital force is marvelous, but the
magnitude of its results defies comprehension.
What though the mustard-seed is not literally the least
of all known seeds, nor the mustard-plant very great
among the trees? There is considerable greatness
springing from inconsiderable littleness, and involving
a miracle of creation. The want of literal exactness
does not destroy the significance of the proverb, nor
does it render the spiritual symbolism of the figure any
the less striking.
The parable of The Mustard Seed is a picture of the
growth of Christly character. It represents not the man
ner nor the precise extent of spiritual growth, but the
fact of that growth. It teaches us how great results
in the spiritual life, as in the physical or material life,
45

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
spring from sources apparently the most insignificant
"The kingdom of heaven is like unto a grain of
mustard seed, which a man took, and sowed in his
field." In other words, character, even the noblest and
most saintly, is insignificant in its beginnings. A kindly
word, a repentant thought, a trifling act, unnoticed by the
busy world, despised by the self-sufficient, ridiculed by the
thoughtless, may contain the spiritual germ. But the
Christly character, when it is full grown, is the grandest
thing on earth.
Simple enough and most perfectly childlike was the
answer of the little boy in the temple, "Wist ye not
that I must be about my Father's business ?" But there
was the utterance of a conviction, then but dimly un
derstood,, from which sprang the divinest character the
world has ever seen — a character that justified the
phrase, "God manifest in the flesh."
Did it seem a small thing to those rude fishermen of
Galilee when the Master said to them one day, "Follow
me," and they obeyed? There was little spiritual sig
nificance in the act ; perhaps nothing intelligently relig
ious so far as the disciples themselves were concerned.
Yet from that hour a change began to come over their
lives. That act of obedience was the point of departure
upon a course of life that ended in a complete moral
and spiritual transformation. By it those men were
lifted from their obscurity and enthroned among the
great ones of earth. Better still, they were led forth
from their selfishness, bigotry and narrow-minded little
ness, and were made instruments in the salvation of the
world. Their horizon of interest and sympathy, which
hitherto had been limited to the shores of a small lake,
yes, to the planks of their own boat and the cords of
their own net, began to extend itself till it included the
whole brotherhood of mankind and was coextensive
with the known world. Peasants who before this had
been mere units in the race of mankind, began to take
46

THE MUSTARD SEED
on a marked individuality, and when the character
which grew from this seed had attained its maturity,
they were written "saints" upon the deathless page of
history. A similar transformation, traceable to a like trifling
cause, has taken place in myriads of lives through the
succeeding ages. One brief sentence of Scripture meet
ing the eye of a German m.onk was the mustard-seed;
the character of Martin Luther, the great reformer, was
the tree that grew therefrom. A single kind word from
an unknown friend, the mustard-seed; the tree, John B.
Gough, rescued from a drunkard's grave to become the
greatest apostle of temperance in the nineteenth century.
Thomas a Kempis' "Imitation of Christ" read in idle
moments on shipboard, the mustard-seed; the heart of
John Newton, a reckless, immoral young man, an in
fidel and a slave-trader, the soil into which it fell; the
tree, a saintly character that has embodied itself in
some of the sweetest hymns of the Church, not to speak
of the noble work done as a preacher of the gospel.
How small are the forces that oftentimes determine
character! The humble prayer of the publican, "God,
be merciful to me a sinner"; the terrified cry of the
wicked and superstitious jailer, "What must I do to be
saved?"; the question of the stricken persecutor, "Lord,
what wilt thou have me to do ?" ; these seem mere passing
incidents, too trifling to result in radical changes
of life and spirit. Yet from such small seeds
has sprung the true life in many a soul that
else had been hopelessly lost and dead. Hid
den deep in the heart, its divine energy has at last burst
forth into a noble tree with all its beautiful blossoms
of hope and its precious fruit of righteousness. As a
mere touch of the Saviour's finger brought new life and
purity to the flesh that had been foul with disease, so
the most trivial contact of a soul with the divine may
47

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
be the beginning of a growth that shall end in the com
plete spiritual transformation of the subject.
A quiet word, a single line of some familiar hymn,
a small act of Christian sympathy— by such trifling
things as these has hope been restored, has evil been
conquered, have souls been saved. Do the messages of
the gospel, "Believe," "Repent," "Obey," "Confess,"
"Look unto Jesus," "Follow me," — do these seem wholly
inadequate to lift men out of the depths of sin and sor
row and despair? They are but mustard-seeds. Let
them be sown in human lives and watered with the dews
of the Spirit, and they will surely spring up in noble
growths of character. Not a character the world has
ever seen but sprang from seed equally small.
Like Naaman of old, many of us are continually look
ing for "some great thing" that may come into our
lives to transfigure and make them saintly, to cleanse
away the stains of sin and to impart the love and power
of holiness. Let this parable teach us the folly of such
expectation. The secret of your salvation and of mine
lies not in the opportunity for large achievement or
sacrifice, but in the doing of some insignificant duty
that presents itself to us. To take a stand among
Christians, to unite with Christ's Church, to habitually
attend the gathering for prayer, to do a kind deed in
the name of the Master, to speak the word of cheer to
a fainting soul — is this sainthood? No, but it is the
mustard-seed from which may grow the noblest type
of sainthood. And no saintly character ever yet grew
from larger seed.
"Think nought a trifle, though it small appear;
Small sands the mountain, moments make the year,
And trifles life."
But we must not stay longer with this thought. There
is a broader interpretation of the picture. The growth
of God's kingdom in the world — what is that? Is it
the extension of the Christian Church? Is it to be
48

THE MUSTARD SEED
measured by comparing the little band of disciples
clustered about Jesus with the numerous host now en
rolled under the banner of the cross? So we are wont
to think. And our efforts to build up the kingdom of
God are very often mere efforts for Church extension.
If the Church grows, we imagine that the kingdom
of God is in a prosperous condition. If the Church
does not increase in numbers at any particular period,
we mourn over the stagnation in the kingdom. Yet
the phrase "kingdom of God" as used by our Lord
never had any but the remotest and most indirect refer
ence to the Church. Any attempt to measure the growth
or progress of the kingdom by merely gaging the in
crease in numbers in the Church is always misleading.
As well attempt to measure the population and progress
of an earthly nation by calling the roll of her standing
army. Times of most rapid growth in the Church have not
seldom been times of utter stagnation or even of shrink
age in the kingdom of God. When, in the fourth cen
tury, Christianity became the state religion of Rome,
the Church took a sudden forward stride, but the tide
of Christly character flowed backwards. That union
brought loss rather than gain to the kingdom of God.
We are dealing, let us remember, not with any organi
zation or aggregation of men, but solely with character
— the Christly character in individuals and in the race.
What was the origin and what has been the progress
of Christliness in the world?
Jesus came to a barbarous world. Even the civili
zations of the age were the gilded sepulchers of a dead
morality. Government was organized oppression and
cruelty. Culture was refined iniquity. Religion was a
mask of hypocrisy and selfishness. Mankind was sunk
in wickedness. The few strong ones were lords. The
many weak ones were slaves. Notwithstanding great
material progress and external development, the inner
49

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
life of man was at its lowest ebb. Manhood was sub
servient to materialism. Character had yielded to the
lust of power or wealth.
Jesus came; and what did he do? Organize a
church? Indirectly, yes. Preach a new and marvelous
doctrine? Yes. But he did much more than either.
He sowed the seed of divine character in the world.
Right into the midst of earth's foulness and sin he
dropped it; and it seemed to be lost. But was it lost?
Not by any means ! It was only hidden in the soil. At
once there began the development of a new spiritual
consciousness in the race. Imperceptibly at first, but
none the less really and irresistibly, new ideals of life
and duty sprang up and gradually asserted their sway
over the minds of men everywhere. New conceptions
of God and of man; new conceptions of the duty of
man towards God in worship and in service, of the duty
of man towards man in society, of the duties of nations
towards each other; new impulses towards mental cul
ture, towards moral elevation, towards material advance
ment — these and many similar evidences of a new
growth began to reveal themselves.
The early Church, as soon as it was deprived of the
immediate counsel of Jesus and his apostles, was little
better in many respects than the heathenism by which
it was surrounded. The doctrinal disputes of the syna
gogue were introduced into the conclaves of the Church.
The methods and spirit of the heathen persecutors were
adopted by intolerant disciples. Many times the moral
life of rec'ognized Christians exhibited no marked su
periority to that of the unchristian world. Yet the divine
germ had burst its covering and was steadily shooting
up into the life of the race.
Though the movement has been in every age imper
ceptible, the growth of the tree has been measured from
time to time, and these measurements form the great
50

THE MUSTARD SEED
epochs of history. The abrogation of sacrifices marks
almost the first stage of that growth; the granting of
the Magna Charta marks another stage; the great
Protestant Reformation, another; the overthrow of the
system of human slavery, another ; and so on. We some
times think there is no growth in the character of the
race; but if we note the level at widely separated in
tervals we must be convinced not merely that there is
growth, but that it is marvelous in its greatness.
Who can estimate, for example, the difference be
tween ancient tyranny and modern constitutional gov
ernment? What a measureless stride from the Cru
sades to the spirit of modern missions! How far the
purpose and method of the Arbitration Court at The
Hague towers above that of the Holy Alliance at the
opening of the nineteenth century ! How much grander
the meaning embodied in the Red Cross of the twen
tieth century than in that of the twelfth century, or in
the socialism of our time than in the scholasticism of
the Middle Ages ! The mustard-seed has already become
a tree, and that tree is daily growing and sending its
branches in shelter over the world. The race is attain
ing the Christly character, slowly it may be, but none
the less surely and blessedly.
"The mustard seed," says Dr. Lyman Abbott, in his
Evolution of Religion, "is growing to be the greatest
of all herbs; but it grows in all directions; some
branches pushing upwards to higher planes ; some grow
ing only further away from the original stock, different
therefrom in apparent direction, yet the same in
nature and fruit; some growing downward and earth
ward ; — yet the whole higher in its highest parts, grander
in its proportions, and more complexly diversified in its
structure than when the Nazarene cast the seed into the
ground by the shores of Gennesaret. Then, a solitary
physician, healing a few score of halt and lame and blind
51

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
and lepers by a touch or a word, — now, throughout all
lands which his presence has made holy, hospitals for
every form of disease known among mankind; then, a
single feeding of five thousand men, besides women and
children, seated in serried ranks upon the ground, — now,
an organized benefaction,, which, through consecrated
channels of commerce, so distributes to the needs of
man that in a truly Christian community a famine is
well-nigh impossible; then, a single teacher, speaking to
a single congregation on the hillside find illustrating the
simplest principles of the moral life, — now, unnumbered
followers, so instructing men concerning God, duty,
love, life, that not only does every nation hear the truth
in a dialect which it can understand, but every temper
ament also in a language of intellect and emotion un
consciously adapted to its special need."
But the end is not yet. The world has not, even in
our day, attained to the fulness of its divine growth.
The conscience of the race still permits much that is
evil, much that is unchristly. The all-powerful nations
still stand with folded hands and witness the slaughter
of helpless innocence by brutal tyranny. Christendom
lets political interests outweigh the needs of suffering
humanity. Christian commerce is still based upon the
principle of selfish and soulless competition. Christian
men still pile up their millions and clothe themselves in
purple and fine linen,, while their brothers lie at their
very gates in rags ; and a Christian public praises their
thrift. Formal slavery is done away with, but there are
still multitudes who are in actual bondage to toil and pov
erty, with no opportunity for higher mental culture and
soul growth. The cries of suffering and wrong are yet
to be heard in our most Christian lands, calling for new
and broader interpretations of the gospel in daily life.
The tree is large. The fowls of the air lodge already
in its branches. But it may grow much more, must grow
52

THE MUSTARD SEED
much more, till nations and societies and communities
are as truly Christian as individuals; it must grow until
politics are as pure and commerce as unselfish as re
ligion ; until men make laws and buy and sell goods and
study science and even pursue pleasure from the same
motive which lured Jesus to Gethsemane and Calvary,
namely, to -build up Christly character in men and to
bring in the reign of the kingdom of God upon earth.
It must grow till the mission of the Christ is recognized
as the one mission of every son of man, until every
human life becomes a true incarnation of God.
"The kingdom of heaven is like unto a grain of mus
tard seed." How often do we complain of the little
ness of our lives, the limitations of our influence ! We
make these the excuse for all manner of uselessness
and failure. We draw back from duty on the ground
that we have no great opportunities, no extraordinary
talents. We persuade ourselves that on this account
nothing is required of us. But every one has small op
portunities, a few talents. These God has given to us,
and he would have us cast them into the earth like
the tiny mustard-seed, that they may grow and become
great. These little things are possessed of a divine life.
Consecrate them to God, use them faithfully in his ser
vice and according to his laws, and they will expand
and multiply beyond our largest imaginings. Infinite
possibilities lie hidden within them.
Would you know the real value of life? Learn the
significance of little things. God does not give us trees
full grown. He gives us the seed, and every seed is the
repository of infinite possibilities. As a little tempta
tion may betray the soul and by gradual development
lead at last to monstrous sin and the complete wreckage
of character, so a minute seed of good, carefully nour
ished and cultivated, may spring up and bring forth
fruit unto everlasting life. A cup of cold water given in
the name and spirit of Jesus Christ may awaken the dor-
53

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
mant life in the human heart and become the source
of a transformed character.
Then, —
"Scorn not the slightest word or deed,
Nor deem it void of power ;
There's fruit in each wind-wafted seed.
That waits its natal hour.
"A whispered word may touch the heart,
And call it back to life ;
A look of love bid sin depart,
And still unholy strife.
"No act falls fruitless; hone can tell
How vast its power may be ;
Nor what results infolded dwell
Within it silently."

54

The Influence of
Character

CHAPTER V.
The Influence of
Character THE LEAVEN
Matt. 13:33; Luke 13:20, 21
Text.— "It ivas all leavened. "—Matt. 13:33
THE spiritual ideals of most men would find
a fitting type in the gold or the diamond.
Jesus never employs them for figures. His
chosen symbols of Christian character are
salt, light, leaven. Do you see the differ
ence ? The human ideal emphasizes value or beauty ; the
divine ideal lays the stress upon power.
Gold, what is it? A standard of value; an emblem
of purity and worth ; the most precious of metals, sought
with equal persistence for coinage and for ornament.
What is the diamond? A gem of priceless worth and
unrivaled beauty. 'The gold and the diamond are thus
fitting symbols of purity and value; but they are also
types of selfishness or want of power.
For ages untold diamonds have lain buried in the
mines of Brazil and South Africa, and the sparkling
grains of gold have mingled in the sands of California
and the Yukon Valley ; yet in all these ages no smallest
particle of sand has been changed by the contact, no
atom of rock has felt any influence from the metal or
the gem to transform its nature or increase its value.
Age after age they lie there, precious metal and worth
less sand, priceless jewel and profitless rock, side by side,
the sand and the rock no whit better for the fellowship.
57

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Does not that well represent much of the religion that
has claimed the attention of men? Does it not repre
sent too truthfully much of the religion that passes cur
rent under the name of Christian? Have we not
churches pure as the gold, priceless as the diamond,
beautiful congregations of beautiful people, that are ab
solutely without influence in the world, as cold and ex
clusive as they are pure and refined? Not such was
Jesus' ideal of Christian life and character. He says,
"The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a
woman took, and hid in three measures of meal, till it
was all leavened."
There is a picture of The Influence of Character.
What is leaven? Any substance that produces fer
mentation. The name is very indefinite, and no one
cares what the exact substance is. The precise material
of which it is composed may vary indefinitely. The ef
fect which it produces is the one matter of importance.
It is a transforming force.
The parable of The Mustard Seed fixed our attention
upon the object itself, that is, upon the growing plant,
and so led us directly to the growing spiritual reality,
the Christly character. The entire significance of the
picture centered upon that. But in the parable now be
fore us we do not know what the material substance is.
We only know its effect. In fact, the substance itself,
whatever it is, is soon lost, absorbed in the larger mass.
The leaven was hidden in three measures of meal till the
meal was all — what? Leaven? No. Till it was all
leavened. The noun gives place to a verb. Matter is
made subordinate to force. The worker is for the time
overshadowed by its work. We may therefore dismiss
all questions about the woman, the meal, the three meas
ures, and even the general significance of leaven, and
concentrate our thought upon the one simple idea,
influence. Character is the greatest of moral forces. No true
58

THE  LEAVEN
character can exist among men without exerting a clearly
defined and helpful influence. Men of genuine excel
lence in every station in life, men of integrity, of probity,
of high principle, of sterling honesty of purpose, com
mand the spontaneous homage of mankind, It is natural
to believe in such men and to imitate them. All that is
good in the world is upheld by them, and without their
presence in it the world would not be worth living in.
Genius commands admiration, wisdom or learning may
excite wonder, power may compel outward submission,
wealth may allure flattery, but character alone secures
respect and exerts a transforming influence upon men.
"Every true man," says Emerson, "is a cause, a
country, and an age; requires infinite spaces and num
bers and time fully to accomplish his design; — and pos
terity seem to follow his steps as a train of clients. A
man, Caesar, is born, and for ages after we have a Roman
empire. . . . And all history resolves itself very easily into
the biography of a few stout and earnest persons."
The history of all human progress is but the his
tory of the working and influence of character in the
gradual maturing of the race life. Character is always
and everywhere the measure of a man's power and
of a man's possibilities in the molding of his fellows.
How vast an influence, for example, has emanated
from the character of that noble man, Dr. Thomas Ar
nold of Rugby ! — an influence that was felt in the school
long after his death. His character seemed to have in
fused itself into the very fiber of the institution, and to
have continued to exert its power for many years. "His
very presence," says his biographer, "seemed to create
a new spring of health and vigor within his pupils, and
to give to life an interest and an elevation which re
mained with them long after they had left him, and
dwelt so habitually in their thoughts, as a living image,
that, when death had taken him away, the bond appear
ed to be still unbroken, and the sense of separation al-
59

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
most lost in the still deeper sense of a life and union
indestructible. And thus it was that Dr. Arnoid train
ed a host of manly and noble characters who spread
the influence of his example in all parts of the world."
Of Dugald Stewart, also, it has been said that he
breathed the love of virtue into whole generations of
pupils. Benjamin Franklin, too, while in London, by
the simple force of his personal dignity and truly re
fined and lofty character, reformed the manners of the
entire establishment with which he was connected. The
godly character of Edward Payson was a more effective
and lasting power for good than even his eloquent
preaching. Who has not seen illustrations without number of the
influence of independent, aggressive, active character,
for either good or ill? How many lives have been
ruined, how many communities have been corrupted, by
contact with some individual of positively low or wicked
character! And what may not one noble character and
consecrated life effect in purifying and uplifting other
lives? Captain John Brown once said to Emerson, "For a
settler in a new country, one good, believing man is
worth a hundred, nay, worth a thousand men without
character. His example is so contagious that all other
men are directly and beneficially influenced by him, and
he insensibly elevates and lifts" them up to his own
standard of energetic activity."
True, unquestionably true! Every page of history
attests its truth. What has made the difference that we
see between New England and Mexico to-day? The
difference in prosperity, in intelligence, in enterprise, in
moral and social life, whence does it spring? Whence,
indeed, but from the influence of the religious refugees
in the one case and the gold-hunting adventurers in the
other who first settled the two portions of our continent?
What marks the present difference between Mas-
60

THE  LEAVEN
sachusetts and Virginia? Is it not the difference in
character between Puritan and Cavalier continuing to
manifest itself? Why do we find such a diversity of
character in the different cities on this continent, Boston,
New York, Philadelphia, New Orleans, Montreal, Que
bec? Religiously, morally, intellectually, socially, in
enterprise and in spirit they differ to-day pretty much
as their founders differed generations ago. It is the in
fluence of personal character perpetuated.
If we study the characteristics of the different branches
of the Christian Church, we find that they are not to be
explained entirely as the outgrowth of diverse creeds
and methods. They embody to a large degree the
characters of their early leaders. Doctrinal differences
are becoming confused. It is no easy matter in modern
times to draw hard and fast lines between Arminianism
and Calvinism as forms of belief, or even between or
thodoxy and heterodoxy. But Wesleyanism and Cal
vinism still stand out very clearly as types of character.
The personal influence and character of an Augustine, a
Hildebrand, a Zinzendorf, a Wesley, a Calvin, or a
Whitefield abide with us long after his peculiar teach
ings have been forgotten or discarded.
The influence of character may not always be clearly
traceable, nevertheless that influence always makes it
self felt, and it reaches farther than we are wont to
believe, changing other characters, molding other lives,
not only as they come into immediate contact with it,
but even when they are far removed in distance and time
or belong to a later generation. It is precisely like the
leaven which affects not only the particles of meal con
tiguous to it, but through these the particles farthest
removed. The power of Christianity lies in this all^pervading in
fluence of character. Not the mere teaching of Jesus,
not a new system of religious philosophy which he in
troduced, won the hearts of men and turned them to

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
righteousness. It was the character of Jesus that con
quered human hearts and transformed human lives. And
you remember how he promised the same power to his
followers. He said, "Ye shall receive power," — when?
When ye have learned my doctrine? No. When ye are
proficient in my methods ? No. "Ye shall receive power,
when the Holy Spirit is come upon you." In other
words, Ye shall have power when ye begin to develop
the Christly character.
The leaven assimilates the particles of meal to itself.
While not changing the substance of the meal, the leav
en imparts to it the peculiar quality of force embodied
in itself, without losing any part of its own peculiar
property. So Jesus, coming into contact with humanity,
imparts to it his own nature. When he touched the
leper, he was not defiled, but communicated his own pure
and healthy life to the diseased man. When he took
our human nature upon him, he was not contaminated
with its inherited sinfulness, but instead he became the
source of a new moral health for the race.
See the city of Corinth steeped in unnamable vice and
gangrened with moral rottenness, till the leaven of
Christian character touched and transformed many of
its inhabitants, making them pure and true, and win
ning for them from their fellows the title of "saint."
Nor is that a solitary or even extraordinary instance.
The history of Christian missions repeats the story again
and again. The influence of that pure and holy charac
ter has wrought a similar change in Madagascar, in
Fiji, in Hawaii, and in many islands of the Pacific. In
our own land it has entered many a Five Points and
has brought order and peace and decency where before
was only lowest vice and most abject wretchedness. In
deed, all corrective agencies that are at work success
fully upon the moral life of men whether at home or
abroad spring from this leavening power of Christly
character, which is Christ himself perpetually incarnate.
62

THE  LEAVEN
The same influence has taken hold of all the mani
fold departments of our complex Kfe, and has given to
all new impulses and higher aspirations. Character
affects intellect, it affects taste, it affects even the physi
cal man. The scientific researches and discoveries of
our times are the manifestations of a growing intellectual
life stimulated by the Christly character. Our advanc
ing social institutions, our free and enlightened govern
ments, our unbounded literary activities, our countless
individual comforts and amenities, our sacred home life,
our universal education — all these and many other
things that we esteem purely secular, but which form a
large part of our modern progress, are directly trace
able to the effervescent working of the Christly charac
ter in the race.
We often urge upon disciples the universal duty of
preaching the gospel. That is well ; but there is a duty
far more important. Each disciple should be a center of
Christian influence. The character of every follower of
Jesus should be contagious. It should affect positively
every other character with which it comes in contact.
In fact, this is the way, the only way, in which leaven
spreads. It goes through the meal particle by particle.
The little leaven in the center of the mass cannot direct
ly affect the meal at a distance from itself. It simply
leavens the particles next to itself, and these in turn be
come leavening influences which act upon their neigh
bors, and so the process is continued till at length the
particles most remote from the center are touched and
transformed. The character of Jesus could not directly touch the
lives of all men. It touched twelve, seventy, a hundred
and twenty, or more hearts, and changed them into the
likeness of the Saviour; and that was all. But these,
being leavened, exerted an influence upon others. An
drew, being leavened, touched Peter and leavened him.
Jesus leavened Philip, and Philip leavened Nathanael.
63

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
So the influence has spread from heart to heart and
from age to age. To-tlay it becomes your duty and mine
to disseminate this influence to those particles of hu
manity that lie nearest to us. Every man, woman and
child with whom we come in contact should receive
from us something of this contagious spirit of the living
Christ. It is said of Jesus that, at one time as the multi
tudes crowded about him to touch him, "As many as
touched him were made whole.". There is the thought
of our parable in the concrete. L. There was the conta
gious influence of his divine health of body making
everybody well by mere contact, though no word was
spoken.) That is what the kingdom of heaven means
for us, does through us. When it is set up in our
hearts, when we have come to understand the true ideal
of Christian character, we shall think of it, not as some
thing to be possessed and enjoyed, but as something to
be continually imparted, as something that ought to bless
all with whom we associate. If we are worthy dis
ciples of our Master, it will be true of us as of Jesus
that as many as touch us will be made whole. Our
lives will be potent. Apart from all words that we
speak and all merely external acts that we perform,
there will be a continuous radiation of silent and often
unconscious influence. Wherever we go we shall create
an atmosphere of Christliness. Souls will be stimulated
to new endeavors; lives will be made ashamed of un-
worthiness and led to loftier aims. Yes, even the phys
ical life will be stimulated and strengthened. Christly
character has not yet wholly lost its power over bodily
disease, though the Church has relegated that power in
great measure to fanatics and extremists. I once heard
it said of a Christian physician by a patient, "I always
like to have Dr.  call. I am stronger for the visit even
when he gives me no medicine, for there is something
about the very atmosphere and spirit of the man that
64

THE  LEAVEN
thrills me with new life." Had the Christian Church
held fast to her privilege in this matter, had she main
tained intact the "faith once delivered to the saints,"
not as a matter of mere creed statement and orthodoxy
but of real trust in the power of the living Christ, she
might not in these later days be troubled by the schis
matic extremes of the "Faith Cure" and "Christian
Science." One thought I have not yet touched upon which per
haps demands a passing notice. It is this: Leaven is
in itself the essence of corruption. In nearly every pass
age of Scripture where mentioned it is a symbol of evil.
Strange, is it not, that this same substance should be
chosen as an emblem of the true life? What does it
mean? You cannot eat leaven. It does not contain the
properties that sustain life. Nevertheless it serves a very
important purpose in rendering more palatable, possibly
more wholesome also, the bread that we eat and by
which life is nourished. Without the leaven our bread
would be poor indeed. It is the power of something,
in itself far from perfect, to improve something else,
that symbolizes genuine discipleship.
This quality of corruption in the leaven has proved
a stumbling-block to an occasional expositor who has
attempted to square every element in the parable with
some divine teaching and to deduce a special lesson from
each distinct phase of the picture. Such expositors
have quite overlooked the fact that Jesus makes no refer
ence to the substance of the leaven, but only to its per
vading and transforming influence. That is the only
quality of the leaven that he brings out in the parable,
and it is evidently the only quality that he had
in mind at the time of speaking. The kingdom
of heaven is like leaven in the one particular only,
i. e., its influence. The worst character is want of
character. Mere negative do-nothing-ism, though it be
65

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
spotless, has nothing Christlike or heavenly about it.
/True character is always positive and strongly aggres
sive. / Have you never wondered at the fascination that is
often exerted by evil lives? We read the story of some
notorious sinner and before we are aware, although we
know him to be a rascal, we find ourselves admiring his
character. Probably few persons have ever read Milton's
Paradise Lost without feeling a certain respect for~Sa-
tan, in spite of the great poet's effort to make him the
impersonation of all evil. Why Is this ? Is it not because
of the positiveness, because of the aggressive force
that reveals itself in the delineation of the archfiend's
character? Such positiveness is fascinating even when
found in connection with traits the most unworthy.
How much more when allied to upright character and
noble purpose does it enhance their value!
Time has been, I am not sure that it is now wholly
past, when the ideal of sainthood has been represented as
weak and negative in character. Some of us still find
it difficult to get rid of the notion that the model Chris
tian is a namby-pamby sort of a person lacking the
strongest and most virile elements of the manly charac
ter. The ghost of the old Sunday-school book hero
occasionally haunts our present-day religion, and while
we consider him a pattern of goodness, we reserve our
admiration and real worship for others less saintly.
The figure of the leaven ought to have made such
weak ideals forever impossible. It brands all moral ef
feminacy as unchristian. It imprints the stamp of con
demnation upon mere negative goodness. From the other
parables we learn that the heavenly character must
always be pure and beautiful. In and of itself it is a
priceless treasure, a jewel of surpassing value ; yet, after
all,_ the most perfect character utterly fails in its mission
if it does not exert a potent influence upon others.
Even the spotless purity and unequaled beauty of
66

THE  LEAVEN
Jesus' own character would have been absolutely worth
less had there not gone forth from him that perpetually
divine influence which made itself felt by all who came
to him, and which has continued to make itself felt all
through the ages. Consequently when the Master
sought for types of discipleship he seldom took things
of intrinsic value like the gold, the diamond, or even the
meal. Instead of these, salt, light, leaven are his cho
sen symbols. Does he therefore mean to belittle the
value of character in itself? Not at all; but he would
emphasize the paramount importance of influence.
Purity is vital; for the pure in heart, and they alone,
shall see God. Moral beauty and symmetry are emi
nently to be desired; but contagion is more than these.
To be noble is good so far as it goes ; to ennoble others
goes farther and is infinitely better. To keep oneself .
unspotted from the world is a worthy aim when it goes
hand in hand with the higher aim to cleanse the world
itself of some of its spots.
Is not this a very distinct and lofty ideal of character
that Jesus sets before us in the parable of The Leaven?
To many Christians the great end of religion seems to
be the salvation of their own souls. Others talk of a
"higher Christian life" ; but eveiTthat is a self-absorbed
struggle for purity and sanctification. Now the Master
would not have us neglect these aims, but he would
have us think of them, not as ends, but as means to an
end far greater than either. He bids us cultivate the
Christly character for the sake of others, save self in
order to save the world, seek the fulness of the heaven
ly life in order that we may become centers of heaven
ly light and joy and power, transforming all about us,
until the kingdom of God shall come not alone in our
hearts but in all the earth.

M

The Value of
Character

CHAPTER VI
The Value of
Character THE TREASURE
Matt. 13:44
Text. — "The kingdom of heaven is like unto a treasure. " —
Matt. 13:44 (1st cl.)
WE commonly reckon wealth in dollars
and cents. We account a man rich
when he controls hundreds of thou
sands or millions of dollars. If his in
come be small we call him poor. Yet
money itself is not wealth, nor can it always secure
wealth for its possessor. At best it is simply an in
strument for the convenient exchange or transfer of
wealth. Misers have perished in rags and starvation
while they possessed thousands of shining coins safe
ly hidden away in their coffers. Miserably poor was
that one who fell down in the streets of Herculaneum
fatally overburdened by the very gold which he was
seeking to rescue from the grasp of the fiery storm;
rich beyond compare the possessor of a few pence
with contentment, peace, freedom, a pure life and a
clear conscience.
Time was when men supposed the wealth of nations or
of individuals to consist in the amount of gold, silver,
or other precious metals in their possession. But Adam
Smith, the father of modern economic science, exposed
the fallacy of this notion, and banished it forever from
the realm of intelligent thought.
The wealth of nations is represented by things far
71

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
different from precious metal. The wealth of this na
tion, for example, may be gaged much more accurate
ly by our wheat and cotton crops, by our libraries and
public schools, by our well-managed railroads, our free
institutions, and our comfortable homes, than by the
amount of bullion in our national treasury. By the
same token it is not stocks and bonds, not wages nor
interest money, that measures the wealth of the individ
ual, but the power to satisfy personal needs, to obtain
food when hungry, to secure clothing when cold or
naked, to furnish that which shall meet every need of
the being, body, mind and soul.
Satisfaction is the ultimate measure of wealth — the
satisfaction of need. That most truly represents
wealth which contributes most to human satis
faction. He is richest whose needs are most
perfectly developed and most completely satisfied. But
he who, while possessing gold uncounted, is unable to
obtain satisfaction or contentment is poor indeed.
This axiom of modern science Jesus announced, ages
before the birth of Adam Smith, in the words, "The
kingdom of heaven is like unto a treasure." In these
words are embodied the Master's definition of wealth;
and the parable which they introduce is a clear illustra
tion of his meaning.
The entire story centers upon the word "Treasure."
Upon this word converge all the radii of its detail.
From this word we must interpret the whole. Here is
the pith and essence of truth. All else is incidental or
subordinate. "A hidden treasure," says one. No. rather a dis
covered treasure. The word "hidden" has no bearing
upon the thought of the parable other than to empha
size the significance of the key-word "Treasure" and to
impress upon the hearer more deeply the fact of its
great value.
"The field," says another, "what does that represent?"
72

THE TREASURE
Nothing in particular, I reply. The treasure must be
placed somewhere. The field is simply a necessary
background and finding place for the treasure. In this
case the field was made for the treasure, not the treas
ure for the field. Every picture must have a back
ground, and the true artist will so choose or arrange this
that it shall contribute to the effectiveness of the central
figure. If it distract attention from that, it is a fatal
defect. "But how about the finding? Was that a matter of
chance ? And are we to conclude that one may stumble on
the kingdom of heaven who is not seeking it?" Again
I say, The treasure, the treasure, that is the important
thing. The man is merely an instrument for discovering
that and placing it before us. Of the method of dis
covery nothing is said; therefore we may draw no con
clusions from it.
"What of the conduct of the finder ? Was it right for
him to conceal — " Ah ! there we go, again, chasing the
motes in the sunbeam, instead of using the light which
the beam sheds to examine the heaven-drawn picture.
Whether right or wrong, the action of the man is per
fectly natural and true to life, and the pains taken to
conceal the treasure is another item of testimony to its
value. Also the joy manifested is an added word to
the same effect.
In short, all the various details of the parable are but
so many lines of light focusing upon a single point.
The hiding, the finding, the concealment, the joy, the
sale, the purchase — all these are true to human ex
perience and give life and interest to the story. With
out them it would be no story at all. Even Jesus could
not frame a parable about an abstract or imaginary
treasure. Change the details so as to make every action
perfectly proper and independently instructive, and the
parable would be as unreal and as insipid as many a
modern Sunday-school book. But take them just as
73

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
they come to us from the lips of the Great Teacher, let
them interpret themselves, and they reiterate in every
line the cumulative thought — the treasure and its value.
Thus analyzed, the interpretation of the parable is
clear. The treasure represents the kingdom of heaven,
so says our Lord. And he seeks to impress upon his
hearers the supreme value of the kingdom of heaven.
In other words, the parable sets forth in living and con
crete fashion, the supreme value of Christly character.
The Christly character is like a treasure. That is to
say, the Christly character is wealth. It is a possession
of transcendent value. It is a mine of exhaustless bless
ing. It is a fountain of perennial joy. In comparison
with this, all other riches are as' nothing. To obtain
this by the sacrifice of all else is infinite gain. It is itK
itself the embodiment of the highest and best things
the heart can desire. Such character is happiness. Such''
character is eternal life. Such character is heaven.
How we envy the fortunate individual who first dis
covered the glittering particles of gold in Suter's mill-
race in the early days of California, or how we wish we
'might have been in place of that one who first noted the
oily surface of certain streams in Pennsylvania and was
'led to bore for petroleum ! Do we? Do we? Why? Be
cause they were by their good fortune enabled to
obtain many things that afforded them pleasure and satis
faction. But there is another, unspeakably more envi
able — the man who has attained to the Christly charac
ter. For, after all, the treasure is but a type, and a very'
imperfect type at that. Character is the reality, glorious,
indestructible. The word of Jesus will endure the most searching test
of modern scientific thought. Apply the test, if you
will, and note how completely its demands are met. I
have said that, according to the modern ideal, satisfac
tion is the measure of wealth. Now Christly character
74

THE TREASURE
is wealth, because it satisfies human needs. It satisfies
all needs, and it satisfies them completely.
In the first place, the Christly character is wealth, be
cause it satisfies our physical or material needs. That
is to say, it enables us to satisfy these. Have we not
the promise, "Be not therefore anxious, saying, What
shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal
shall we be clothed? . . . But seek ye first his kingdom,
and his righteousness ; and all these things shall be added
unto you"? In other words, Seek first and above all
things else the Christly character; let this be the su->-
preme purpose and aim of your life, and your bodily
wants will be abundantly satisfied.
If Christians only believed this promise! But they
do not. It is received by the majority of disciples as
exceedingly general and even purely figurative. Yet it
has proven itself true, literally true, in every age. The
material riches of the world to-day are in the hands of
Christian peoples. Godly men hold the purse-strings of
the nations. To be sure, the faithful servants of God
are not always rich in money and creature comforts,
nor are the wicked always poor; but every careful stu
dent of social problems, in this or any other land, will
tell you that it is a most unusual thing to find earnest
Christians living in abject poverty, squalor, or misery.
The low, the miserable, the discontented, the wretched
ly poor and starving classes are composed almost en
tirely of the ungodly. And in most cases their ungodli
ness is the direct cause of their pitiful condition. Mate
rial improvement follows close upon the heels of moral
reform. In the train of character are diligence and
thrift, the heralds of earthly prosperity. Not one, but
many, are the witnesses who testify —
"I have been young, and now am old ;
Yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken,
Nor his seed begging bread."
75

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
To stimulate or increase physical needs is one of the
first results of gospel preaching. The pagan tribe that
receives the truth at once begins to seek more and bet
ter things in the way of bodily satisfaction. There is
a desire for better food and clothing, better and more
comfortable homes, pleasanter surroundings. The de
mand for material things is multiplied manifold. But if
the demand is thus increased the supply is increased far
more. The new spirit creates wants only to satisfy them
abundantly. The Christianized nation always contributes
more to the material possessions of the race than it takes
from them. All manner of bodily comforts and satis
factions are found among the invariable by-products of
Christianity. They are the never-failing accompaniments
if not the direct results of the development of the Christly
character. Again, the Christly character is wealth, because it sat
isfies the intellectual needs of men. Sanctified charac
ter is always a source of new mental activity and power.
Moral elevation is a fountain of intellectual inspira
tion. However we may explain it, the fact is apparent
to all that the secrets of the universe discover them
selves to the godly mind when the ungodly question
them in vain. Even in the matter of purely scientific
research or geographical discovery or mechanical inven
tion the saying holds true, "The fear of Jehovah is the
beginning of wisdom."
The intellectual activity and achievement of this
twentieth century is bounded by the same lines that
bound Christendom. All science and learning, all art
and culture and refinement worthy the name, are to be
found among the nominally Christian peoples. To be
sure it is fashionable in certain quarters at the present
time to talk of the learning of India, and to speak of
the wonderful achievements of the Oriental nations as
though these were in some way far in advance of the
mental attainments of our Western peoples. A very Ht-
76

THE TREASURE
tie study is sufficient to expose the fallacy of such
claims, and to show the utter childishness of much of
this lauded wisdom, and the ineffectiveness of all of it
to uplift or satisfy men.
And what of individuals? Who are the leaders of the
intellectual progress of our time? Are they not, for the
most part, Christian men and women? Our Agassizs,
our Darwins, and our Dawsons are men who have
studied the creation in the spirit of devout reverence for
the Creator. Our Tennysons and our Longfellows, our
Brownings and our Whittiers, have been inspired by the
same reverent spirit. True poetry of the highest order
is not and cannot be the product of godless souls.
Time would fail to review the long array of names
that are famous in the realm of art, of music, of dis
covery, of invention, that bear witness to the influence
of character upon mind. Is not that indeed a treasure
of priceless value that has given to us the poems of a
Milton, the dramas of a Shakespeare, the essays of an
Emerson, the writings of a Ruskin, the music of a
Beethoven, or a Handel, the learning of a hundred New-
tons, the discoveries of a Columbus, the inventions of
a Watt, a Stephenson, a Morse, an Edison, a Marconi,
the philosophy of a Spencer, the beneficent achievements
of a Howe or a Morton?
Often enough we may hear these intellectual prodi
gies spoken of as the fruits of Christianity; but just
what do we mean by that? Are they the outgrowth of
a certain religious philosophy ? Do they find their source
and inspiration in a peculiar form of religious teaching
known as Christian? No. They are the direct result
of the formation and growth of Christly character in
human hearts. It is character and not mere teaching or
culture that lies at the foundation of intellectual prog
ress. Men have sought the kingdom of God and have
found it; and these things have been added according to
the promise. 77

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
The gospel of the kingdom is not first of all a gospel
of contentment. It does not make men indifferent to
natural desire. The rather does it stimulate desire and
aspiration in every right direction. Wants hitherto un
recognized are awakened only to be more than satis
fied. The Spirit of Christ gives rise to ever greater
longings, and then satisfies them completely. It infi
nitely extends a man's horizon, and makes life more
truly worth the living. Under its influence the concep
tion of life's possibilities is greatly enlarged, and a godly
discontent springs up in the soul that clamors for higher
satisfaction and receives it. Into every little event and
duty a deeper meaning is infused, and thus these are
rendered sacred. Every faculty is toned up and brought
into most fruitful exercise.
The Christly character furnishes the only adequate
motive for the highest intellectual effort and aspiration.
It furnishes the only key that can unlock the secrets
of the universe. It furnishes the only reasonable hope
of unlimited intellectual progress. In a word, Christly
character, and that alone, fully satisfies the intellectual
needs of man.
Yet again, the Christly character is wealth, because
it satisfies the spiritual needs of the race. This, which
is almost a truism, is of supreme importance. When we
are confronted with the deepest, the most vital needs of
all human life, the eternal needs of the soul, these find
no satisfaction except in Christliness of character. Give
a man material wealth, fame, power, learning, culture—
in short, give him everything else that the heart can de
sire or the mind conceive, yet if the wants of the soul
be unsatisfied there can be no true, no lasting, happiness.
Men have been utterly miserable in the possession of
gold and silver uncounted, in the enjoyment of gifts
and opportunities without limit, in the giddy whirl of
pleasures and pastimes, because the spiritual nature has
been neglected. On the other hand, supply the wants
78

THE TREASURE
of the soul, and though every other satisfaction be cut
off, there may be joy unspeakable. Here is a source
of blessedness that no disaster can destroy and no
emergency exhaust.
The old Stoic philosophers sought to remove the ills
of life by cultivating the spirit of indifference in men,
by making them content with whatever lot might be
theirs. It was a sort of moral anesthetic by which the
finer senses of the being were dulled and rendered less
sensitive to pain and suffering. Not such is the method
of Christ. He never corrects a discord by destroying
the ear, nor removes evil sights by putting out the eye.
Nor is "Resignation" the last word of the gospel. So
far from this, true godliness renders every faculty of'
body and soul the more sensitive, and then seeks to
satisfy the demands of that sensitiveness. It imparts
to the ear a new power so that it feels more than ever
the harshness of life's discords, yet through all the din
and the discord it can discern the sweet and heavenly har
monies. It makes the eye so keen that even in the most
distressing or revolting scenes it can discover some
tokens of the presence and love of God. It makes the
heart more tender in the presence of sorrow or bereave
ment, and then it steals in with the balm of infinite
comfort and peace. .
But all has not yet been said. The Christly charac
ter is a treasure of supreme value, because we can carry
it with us to the next world and find it no less current
there than here. Of all things human character alone
is eternal. "Godliness is profitable for all things, hav
ing promise of the life which now is, and of thaf
which is to come." The kingdom of heaven is a treas
ure in life, it is a treasure in death, it is a treasure
throughout all eternity. Its value does not diminish
with the passage of time. It rather goes on accumu
lating by a sort of compound interest through this life,

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
and the dividends continue through all the endless ages
of eternity.
Tested thus by the most approved standard of modern
economic science, the Christly character is wealth; for
it supplies all human wants and meets all human needs
for time and for eternity.
Now turn the thought back again to the parable. We
feel no surprise in view of the action that followed upon
the discovery of the treasure. It is most natural. "In
his joy he goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth
that field."
Of course he does ! What else could we expect, if
he is a man of sound mind? Is he a poor man, think
you, because he parted with all his possessions in order
to purchase one field? Was his conduct that of a mad
man? Very, very far from it. He has only exchanged
poverty for wealth, or moderate means for great pos
sessions. He is a richer man to-day than ever before.
It was for this that he made the exchange. It was no
loss to sell all his property that he might obtain the
treasure. It was a gain, great gain.
So is it with every one that secures the kingdom of
heaven at whatever cost. He has made himself unspeak
ably richer thereby. Take the case of Paul, the apostle.
Think how much he gave up when he became a disciple
of Jesus. Friends, position, honor, wealth, influence,
every prospect of advancement, all were laid upon the
altar. Men standing outside the kingdom and seeing
only what he gave up might call him a fool ; but in sober
truth, even when tried by a purely commercial stand
ard, he was a wise and far-seeing man. After a long
experience of the value of Christliness he says, "What
things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ.
Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for
the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my
Lord." Such is the testimony of one who knows the
80

THE TREASURE
worth of the treasure he has obtained. There is no re
gretful look at the past; no feeling of loss and self-
sacrifice; but only a clear and satisfactory consciousness
of great gain.
And like testimony comes to us from countless wit
nesses in all the ages of the Christian Church. It is
confirmed by the experience of every true Christian in
our own day. Every sacrifice made for God and in the
service of others, every surrender made in the quest of
the Christly character, is infinitely rewarded. No duty
is irksome; the sense of self-denial is impossible; for all
feeling of sacrifice or loss is swallowed up in love for the
Master and in the joy which he brings to us.
The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure. Oh, for
the power of the divine Spirit to make us really believe
this truth! There is nothing in all the wide world of
such priceless value as the Christly character. Without
that, riches, honor, learning, power, talent, are of little
worth; they may even become the instruments of evil
and sorrow. Without it we cannot know the truest hap
piness for the present nor the largest hope for the fu
ture. Without it we are in bondage to the world and
the things of the world. With it we are free, we are
rich, we are truly blessed. With it all things are ours
for time and for eternity.
And this possession is within the reach of all. In
every heart it lies. Hidden it may be by sin, by negs-
lect, by wordliness; covered deep perhaps it is by gen
erations of misdoing or false teaching. Still it is there.
^Every human life is a field in which this precious treas
ure lies concealed. Yet how many seem utterly uncon
scious of it ! We go about like men and women walking
over an undiscovered gold mine, little heeding the wealth
that lies just beneath our feet. Talent may be denied
us. We may have few opportunities of useful service,
and those we have may seem insignificant. It may not
be ours to achieve great worldly success. But that which
81

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
is infinitely more important, the attainment of a Christ
like character, is within the reach of even the humblest
and weakest.
How may it be won? There is only one way. Surren/
der all to the Master. Give up everything for his serv
ice, submit everything to his will. The result is cer
tain. "There is no man that hath left house, or brethren,
or sisters, or mother, or father, or children, or lands, for
my sake, and for the gospel's sake, but he shall receive
a hundredfold now in this time, . . . and in the world to
come eternal life."

82

The Cost of
Character

CHAPTER VII
The Cost of
Character
THE MERCHANTMAN AND THE PEARL
Matt. 13:45, 46
Text. — " The kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is a merchant, "
etc.— Matt. HAS
POSSESSIONS may be viewed from two angles.
We may look upon them in the light of their
value, or we may think of them with relation
to their cost. These two points of view are
by no means identical. Indeed, they reveal no
fixed or determinate relation one to the other. An object
,or gift may be of exceeding value and cost little or
nothing; on the other hand, that which costs much may
have little real value.
Air and water cost us nothing. "Free as air" or
"Free as water" have become proverbial expressions;
for although these are gifts of priceless value, .we receive
them without money and without price. (Our water-
rates in the city are a tax for pipes and machinery by
which the water is brought into our houses, not a
payment for the water itself.) By contrast, gold, dia
monds, jewels of all sorts are very costly, yet their
intrinsic value is slight.
Satisfaction is the one test of value. Air and water
satisfy certain imperative needs of man. We could not
live without them. They are absolutely essential to the
sustaining of physical life. Possessing them in abun-
85

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
dance and purity we are immeasurably richer than those
whose supply of either is limited or of a poor quality.
And he who is cut off from either may well envy the beg
gar by the wayside. Not so is it with jewels, gold, pre
cious stones. At best these only satisfy a superficial need,
the demands' of pride or the esthetic sense. Their
costliness is artificial and wholly out of proportion to
their worth.
Sometimes, however, cost and value are nearly equal,
and move up and down the scale together. This is true
of food, clothing material, and the commoner necessities
of life under ordinary circumstances. Their cost is
regulated chiefly by their value.
Now what has this discussion of value and cost to do
with our Lord's parables? Simply this: The distinc
tion which I have tried to bring out is precisely that
which is embodied or illustrated in the two parables
of The Treasure and The Merchantman.
Not the titles that I- have given them, "The Treas
ure" and "The Merchantman." These two companion
pictures are often confused or discussed together as
though they were practically identical in their mean
ing. The titles usually affixed to them betray and in
crease this confusion. They are most frequently known
as the parables' of "The Hidden- Treasure" and "The
Pearl of Gxeat Price." Tn~exposition they are made to
cover much the sarnie ground and to teach the same
lessons. Even so clear and scholarly a writer as Dr.
Dods says, "These two parables have one arid the same
object. They__are meant to exhibit the incomparable
value_of ±be Jdngdom_^heaven." Others of equafnofe
take' similar^ground. Nevertheless I venture to ask,
Is this the true interpretation?
Let us interrogate the parables themselves. In the
former parable the. Great Teacher begins by saying,
"The kingdom of heaven is like unto a treasure."- Had
he intended to repeat the same truth under a different fig-
86

THE MERCHANTMAN & THE PEARL
ure we should expect him to say, "The kingdom of
heaven is like unto a pearl." Such a comparison would
have been at once appropriate and truthful. But,
as a matter of fact, he does not say that. What
he does say is, "The kingdom of heaven is like
unto a man that is a merchant." The index-
finger of the one parable points to a treasure,
rich and attractive; that of the second directs our at
tention to a man, bids us study his character and follow
his action. Both parables^pfeserit the two figures, but
the\light is shifted so that in the one the treasure glit
ters while the man stands in the shadow, and in the other
the sun shines on the man while the treasure is in the
darker background. It is like a senterice in which the
emphasis is transferred from one part to the other, so
wholly changing the meaning. The former parable
centered our attention upon the thought of value; the
lesson embodied in the latter is that of cost, the cost
ef the Christly^character.
"Bless God, salvation's free!" we sing; and we ring
the changes on that favorite quotation of many, "With
out money and without price." We often forget that
the invitation of the great prophet reads, not "Come,
take,," but "Come, buy wine and milk without money
^nd without price." Of course there is a sense in which
salvation (i. e., the perfected' character) is absolutely
free, the gift, of God. But there is another sense, and
a very important sense, in which the Christly character
is the most costly thing on earth. It can be obtained
only by the surxexulerofaU thingajglse. Even life it
self must nofbe wrthTieldTfwe are to win the coveted
possession. This is the truth which Jesus illustrates and enforces
through the parable of "The Merchantman and the
Pearl." This is the golden thread which will guide us
through Its details and enable us to discover the mean-
87i

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
ing of each. It is the central thought upon which the
picture is focused.
Look with me for a few moments at the picture of
the divine Artist. In the foreground stands an Oriental
merchant, keen, diligent, enterprising, and thoroughly
understanding his business. Here is our object-lesson.
In his conduct and spirit we find a type of the wise
character seeker. Do not lose sight of him for an
instant. Watch him closely, study him carefully.
There he is now, rushing off to the market at the
earliest possible moment, "seeking goodly pearls." No
indifference about this merchant of ours. He is an
active, energetic, busy man. He means to succeed in
life, to get rich, to take a leading place among his fel
low merchants. Wait for something to turn up, does
he ? Oh, no. He goes forth resolved to turn_ some
thing up. He knows that success is not a matter of
chance, but that it follows clearly defined laws. He
hopes to become wealthy not by luck, but- because he puts
into operation the conditions of success. He is wise, sane,
thrifty. And these qualities never fail to insure success
in the world of commerce.
He is off to the market, I say. He does not rush
blindly about here and there. He does not go to a black
smith or an apothecary in his quest. He goes directly
to the fisheries or the pearl traders. He is in search of
pearls and he does not expect to find them in a fruit
store or at a ball game. He is a man of practical com
mon sense, and he adapts the means used to the end in
view. Follow him so far, if you can. Has he not giyen
you one good lesson, possibly two, already? The_ first)
condition of finding is seeking. True, God's blessings
sometimes come to those~"wh"d~- are not seeking them..
The careless, idle wanderer may stumble by mere chance
upon a rich treasure; but this is not the rule. In nine
hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand the
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THE MERCHANTMAN & THE PEARL
successful men, in a material sense, are those who have
sought earnestly, patiently, for success, and have ful
filled the conditions upon which it is based. Luck brings
an occasional fortune to some "Lord" Timothy Dexter
in return for an investment of childish folly. Once
in a century a Bret Harte's "Jim Dow" may strike gold
when he is digging for water. But these are the rare
exceptions. On the other hand, pluck and hard work
always win in the battle of life.
^So in spiritual things : doubtless souls have been
touched by the divine spirit at most unexpected moments
and amid very unspiritual surroundings. A Conwell is
converted at a card-table and a John Newton on board
a slave-ship. But this is exceedingly uncommon. As a
rule, you will not be converted in a gambling-hell, nor
develop a spirit of prayer by staying away- from the
house of God or neglecting the prayer-meeting. You
may not hope to attain to a Christlike character and
saintly life'while your boon companions are godl'ess-per^
sons and your chosen dccupations"selfish or sinful. There
is no promise in the Scriptures or in reason of great
spiritual attainments for the indifferent and careless.
But the Word of God is full of encouragement to *he"
active and intelligent seeker.
"Seek ye the Lord Jehovah while he may be found, call
ye upon him while he is near; let the wicked forsake his
way, and the unrighteous rrian his thoughts ; and let him
return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ;
and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." "Ye
shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me
with all your Jheart." "Ask, and it shall be given you ;
seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto
you." These are typical promises of the Bible which find
abundant corroboration in nature and experience. The,
law is universal, unfailing. Wljo_would attain to_suc=
\cejsjm4st strive for it. Wb& would' find ~Oie truth must
seek for it WhcPwould become Christlike must put
89

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
forth Christly endeavor, must emulate the Christly spirit,
must dare the Christly sacrifice, must consort with
Christly people.
Strange,' is it not? that persons who are wise as ser
pents in all material things are foolish beyond all account
where spiritual matters are concerned. Strange that
multitudes of men who profess a desire for conversion
should never put themselves in the way of the Spirit's
influence! Strange that numberless disciples should
continually bemoan their spiritual leanness, and all the
while they neglect the prayer-meeting, and devote them
selves to worldly busmeiior pleasures, and choose the
company of low or unspiritual people ! As reasonable to
seek for pearls in a slaughter-house as for spiritual ex
periences in the stock-market — look for priceless jewels
in a shoe factory as soon as conversions at bridge whist.
It is not a question- of comparative values or of right and
wrong in the things mentioned, but simply a question
of common, sense jegarding the relations of condition and
result. A single glance at our pearl merchant ought to
cover many a would-be disciple with shame and confu
sion of face.
Now look again at our merchantman. He is in the
market before us. About him are numerous tradesmen
with their wares. Some of the gems they offer are fine,
large and clear ; others small and imperfect. For a time
he looks eagerly about, scanning the different stones
carefully, taking up one and another to inspect it more
closely; but suddenly he stops. His attention is fixed.
He has been seeking ; now he has found. But what has
he found? The very thing he had in mind as he sought?
No, not exactly that; but something very much better.
He was seeking "goodly pearls" ; he has found a "pearl
of great price," i. e., a gem of surpassing value. It is
such a pearl as he did not expect to find. It far ex
ceeded his highest hope. He did not know that there
was such a pearl in existence. True, he has had a large
90

THE MERCHANTMAN & THE PEARL
experience in the pearl business, has seen many a supe
rior gem, has informed himself regarding the famous
pearls of commerce. But this pearl — ah, he has never
seen its like, nor has he even read of such a one ! Like the
Kohinoor among diamonds, it was of more value than
many "goodly" gems. Its possession will make him a
rich man, rich beyond his fondest expectation.
Pause a moment to note the parallel. Could illustra
tion be more perfect, more true to fact? Does it not
truly reflect the experience of every earnest seeker after,
the jChrjfitJyjcharacter ? When the inquirer sets out on
the pathway towards the heavenly kingdom his ideas of
the highest good, of godliness, of Christlikeness, are
meager enough. Perhaps he expects a great deal by
comparison with what others expect. He realizes, .it
may be, that righteousness and truth and purity and love
are good things, and he aims at their cultivation; but
when, as a result of his earnestness and sincerity in seek
ing the best that he knows, he finds God and discovers
the real meaning of holiness and infinite love, when the
gospel unfolds before him the life and character of
Jesus Christ, perfect, divine, the revelation surpasses
his utmost thought. He may have been seeking goodly
pearls ; he has found the Pearl of Greatest Price, and the
discovery amazes him. In contrast with that divine
beauty how mean and worthless all other ideals become !
The radiance streaming from Calvary's cross makes,
earthly love seem weak and selfish, makes all partial
service and sacrifice contemptible. And this is the un
varying experience of all who have sought the kingdom
of God. They have sought the best things they knew,
only to have their vision infinitely enlarged as they went,
and the enlarged desire fully satisfied.
Take a single example. Jacob, sobered by fear and
startled by a wondrous vision, begins to seek a higher
life. But what are the goodly pearls that he expects to
find? Protection from danger; prosperity on his jour-
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
ney ; success in business, with wealth and peace. Sordid
enough is the purpose of his quest; but he is in earnest,
and he seeks from God. What did he find ? The goodly
pearls he sought ? Yes, he prospered ; he was saved from
death and danger; he was restored after many years to
his old home in peace. All these blessings he found;
but they were not all. He found truth, honesty, and
later genuine sainthood — spiritual gems of the existence
of which he had no conception in his youth. The expe
rience of Jacob is not unique. It is the universal ex
perience of those who seek God. At the outset motives
and ideals are always imperfect, often wholly unworthy.
But in the progress of the quest these are purified and
exalted. The selfish query, "What shall we have ?" gives
place to the earnest question, "What can we do?" The
terrified cry, "What must I do to be saved?" is trans
formed into the eager thought, "What can I do to save
others?" And so the whole meaning and purpose of
discipleship takes on a new glory with every advancing
step. Now comes the turning point of the parable. Our
wise merchant has sought and found. What next? Does
he rush home to tell his wife and friends what a won
derful pearl he has seen? Does he devote the remain
der of his life to glowing descriptions of this wonderful
gem? That is what many spiritual seekers do. They
get a glimpse of some heavenly glory and spend the rest
of their days talking about it. Listen to the testimonies
in our prayer-fneetings or class-meetings. How many
of them deal with first-hand spiritual experience? Only
a few. Most persons merelyTepeatrwhatThey have heard
from others, or talk of that which they have seen
or have read about. The witness of personal experience
is all too rare.
Not so with our merchant. He is not content with
seeking and finding. These are of no advantage in them
selves. They must be followed by possession. He is no
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THE MERCHANTMAN & THE PEARL
richer for merely gazing upon this pearl and admiring
it. Even the clearest and most adequate appreciation
of its value confers no benefit so long as another owns
it. He must make it his own.
If we have followed our guide thus far, we must also
follow him here. Too many stop short of this third
step. They seek and find, but they never possess. Like
the rich young_man in the Gospels, they are filled with
admiration for the Christly character, they even worship
its divine beauty; but that is all. Reverently, wistfully
even, they study the character revealed in Jesus; but
they never think of making that character their own.
"God's everlasting love! What would we more?
Yes, one thing more. To know it ours indeed.
To add"' the conscious joy of full possession."
This is all-important.
Failing to catch this point, we read our parable in
Vain. The merchant seeks, finds, determines to possess.
But how? "He went and sold all that he had." This is
the climax of the parable. Everthing that he owned
must be turned into ready money that he may secure the
coveted jewel. Fjrst, his stock of pearls, a rare collec
tion, containing many a gem of unusual beauty and value
that in times past had afforded him not a little satisfac
tion is' now offered for sale without reserve. After his
pearls, his store, his home, his furniture, even his cher
ished heirlooms — every article that will bring money in
return is freely dffered. He knows that if he can obtain
this priceless jewel he will be far richer than with all
these things, and that he can repurchase all that are
really of value.
A wise man he; and we may well take him for our
teacher. This is what he says to us : "Part with all thou
hast ; part with it quickly ; part with it gladly ; nor waste
a moment in foolish regret. The price of Christly- char
acter is complete self-surrender to" God. The king-

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
dom of heaven can be obtained only at the cost of
all things else. Who withholds the smallest trifle can
never know the meaning of full salvation, of complete
sainthood." "What! must I give up everything that I possess — my
wealth, my business, my life?" Yes, to God. You must
hold every dollar you own absolutely at his disposal, to
be used precisely as he would have you use it. Your
business you must surrender to him, to be given up if
he wills, or, if he wills, to be carried on in a perfectly
Christian fashion; and that means just as Jesus Christ
would carry it on were he in your place, to be carried
on for the same purpose for which Jesus carried on
his work of preaching and healing and helping. You
must submit every item of your life, your recreations,
your pleasures, your ambitions, your desires, to the
control of his will, to the clear light of his truth.
"Cannot I attain the Christly character without this
complete surrender? Have not many men become saints
who did not give up everything to God? Are there
not many in the Christian Church who have never made
such surrender ?" Ah, yes, many disciples have not made
the full surrender ; but these have not found the Christly
character. "Goodly pearls" you may obtain more cheaply.
Church-membership costs little either in money or service.
Respectability may be had for a song. A reputation for
benevolence or spirituality or religious zeal and efficiency
calls for only a part of the price. Even the title of
"Saint" is scarcely more expensive than a doctor's degree
from a bogus university. But the one "Pearl of great
price," thej[enuine Christly character, that can be secured
only by the willing sacrifice"" of everything else. Listen
to the declaration of the Master himself: "If any mar!
cometh unto me, and hateth not his own father, an'd\
mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sis
ters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disci- J
pie. Whosoever doth not bear his own cross, and come
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THE MERCHANTMAN & THE PEARL
after me, cannot be my disciple. . . . Whosoever he be of
you that renounceth not all that he hath, he cannot be
my disciple." Study this parable in the light of those
words. Do not stay at this point, however. Our drama has yet
one more act. After the selling, buying. "He went and
sold all that he had, and bought it." AH will
agree with me that we can follow our merchant to this
point, if we will. But here many will halt. They will
say, "We cannot buy the Christly character. Salvation
is not a matter of purchase. These things are the free
gift of God." I reply, You can never obtain them in any
other way than by purchase. "But did not Peter pro
nounce a scathing rebuke upon Simon Magus, because
he sought to purchase the gift of God?" True; but
why? Not because he tried to buy God's blessing,
but because he offered too little for it. He wanted to
purchase the divine power for a paltry sum of gold. Had
he made his offer large enough it would have been gladly
accepted. Had he made it large enough, had he offered
himself with his money, had he surj^ndgred his life and
his all. to the service of the Christ to be his alone and
his forever, the bargain would have been concluded on
the spot.
Not by the terms of this parable alone, but by the
frequent use of mercantile terms in the Scriptures, and
by the very titles of our sacred books which signify the
Old and New Covenants, we are warranted in saying
that there is a very important sense in which the king
dom of heaven can be — must be — purchased. 'To speak
of a gift conyeys a certain idea of capriciousness. It is
something wholly independent of the will of the re
ceiver. I must wait for a gift until the donor pleases
to bestow it. But a purchase conforms to the laws of
trade. I may buy what I will, when I will, the moment
I am ready and willing to pay the price.
In this sense we may purchase the gifts of God. To
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
every divine promise is affixed a definite and clear con
dition. We obtain the blessing only when the condition
is fufilled. Even the supreme blessing, the salvation of
the immortal soul, the attainment of the perfect charac-"
ter, is offered on conditions as definite and as tangible
as those upon which one may obtain a pearl from the
jeweler. When one is ready to pay the price, he need
not wait a moment for the blessing.
Have I not read aright the lesson of our Lord's par
able? The cost of 'Character, what is it? In figure,
this: seeking, finding, selling, buying. In literal fact:
earnest purpose, diligent search, complete self-surrender,
glad and full possession. Withhold the price, keep back
never so small a portion of it, and the pearl cannot be
yours. Though you pray fervently and without ceas
ing, though you scatter your money broadcast in ap
proved benevolence, though you are conspicuous and tire
less in religious activity, though you delight in self-
denial and sacrifice, all will be in vain. Tears and labors,
fasts and vigils, are useless. But pay the price of will
ing selfrsurraider, freely, fully, and the Christly char
acter shall be yours. Ignorant and lacking" in "gifts' you
may be, few and insignificant may be your opportuni
ties for service; but in you the spirit and the life of
the Christ will surely appear; and these will abundantly
recompense you for all the cost. And thus shall be richly '
supplied unto you the entrance into the eternal kingdom
of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

96

The Completion
of Character

CHAPTER VIII
The Completion
of Character
THE DRAG-NET
Matt. 13:47-50
Text. — "The kingdom of heaven is like unto a net." — Matt. 13:47
HOPE is the mainspring of intelligent effort.
Hope is the fountain of courage, the seed
germ of endless progress. In the presence
of hope difficulties shrink and impossibili
ties vanish away. Open the door of hope
before the weakest man, and a new sense of power
thrills within him. He will no longer lie prone upon
earth, but may soar aloft to the very heavens. Close
the door upon, the strongest and noblest and he will sink
to the level of the brutes.
What has made the difference between the free, pro
gressive American and the degenerate subject of Turk
ish misrule? Why is one intelligent, thrifty, advanced
and ever advancing, while the other lives in the same
barbarous, primitive fashion in which his ancestors lived
centuries ago? The answer is contained in the single
word "Hope." Every child in our land, however poor,
is born to an inheritance of hope. Whatever the cir
cumstances of his birth, he knows that he may reasonably
aspire to the highest achievements of wealth, social
position or honor, and he also knows that if he attains
to these no man will take them from him. He toils dil
igently and uncomplainingly, therefore, because he
99

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
knows that the fruits of his toil will be his own. Day by
day he rests in the assured and peaceful possession of
what he has gained, while he looks forward to larger
achievements in days to. come.
By contrast, he who enters the world under an Ori
ental despotism can hope for little. He is hedged about
by difficulties and discouragements; he is hampered by
unjust customs and laws or want of laws. Toil hard as
he may, he has no assurance of success or advancement ;
and if successful the fruits of his labors may be seized
by an envious ruler. Any gain in knowledge or cul
ture or wealth only makes him the target of suspicion
and jealousy by those in power. Hence the one great
incentive to progress is wanting.
What is the difference between Christian England and
heathen Africa? Whence comes the moral superiority
of the Anglo-Saxon race over the followers of Moham
med or Buddha? Again "Hope" is the key-word.
Christianity is the religion of hope. The secret of the
moral progress of Christendom is contained in that one
verse from the epistle of John, "Beloved, now are we
children of God, and it is not yet made manifest what
we shall be. We know that, if he shall be manifested,
we shall be like him; for we shall see him even as
he is. And every one that hath this hope set on him
purifieth himself, even as he is pure."
True, this declaration has been qualified and explained
and doubted, until it has lost much of its force in the
life of the Christian Church. Nevertheless it abides as
a part of the eternal word of God, and always there are
some who accept its truth and enter into the fulness
of its blessing. Christliness is possible only to him who
hopes to become Christlike. He alone proves himself
a son of God who believes in his own real divinity.
Heaven is the goal of the hopeful ; the hopeless and de
spairing will never climb. The great Italian poet could
find no motto more appropriate for the gate of hell than
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THE DRAG-NET
this : "All hope abandon, ye who enter here." He might
have written, "Who abandons hope must enter here,"
for hopelessness will sink any soul to perdition. The ma
terial stagnation that follows from hopelessness is a trifle
by comparison with the moral degradation springing
from the same source. The hopeless man will not strive
for spiritual advancement and enrichment any more than
for material gain. His outward poverty and barbarism
will be fitting types of the mental and moral paralysis
that creeps slowly but surely over his inner life.
Is it strange, then, that Jesus, in his great discourse
upon character building, should have touched at the close
the spring of hope? Rather is it not most natural, just
what we should expect? Of what use to paint in glow
ing colors the value and beauty of the heavenly charac
ter, unless there be added some assurance that such char
acter is actually attainable; that at some time, either in
this world or the next, it will surely be made perfect?
We listen to the parables of The Growing Seed, The
Wheat and Tares, The Mustard Seed, and the rest, and in
our hearts springs up the desire for Christliness. We
recognize the exceeding beauty of the picture. We con
fess the glory and worth of the ideal. Were it possible
we would possess this priceless Treasure, this Pearl of
great price. In ourselves and in the world we would re
joice to see the kingdom of heaven triumphant. But
thus far the note of triumph has not been sounded. The
picture has been that of struggle and imperfection. Our
only experience in spiritual things is an experience of
warfare. We are distracted with conflicting motives and
influences. And we naturally ask, "Is this state of
things eternal? Is individual character to be won and
maintained only by a perpetual struggle between good
and evil? Is Christliness to exist in the world only at
the cost of a ceaseless warfare with the hosts of dark
ness? Is the right to hold the balance of power forever
by a slight and uncertain margin? And must all right-
101

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
eousness whether of the individual or of the race be
eternally imperfect?"
To answer such questions as these, Jesus spoke the
parable of The Net Cast into the Sea. It is a necessary
conclusion to the wonderful series of pictures which he
had presented to that seaside audience. Without it the
panorama would have little value or attractiveness. It
would be shorn of its power for highest good. The
Master has spoken of the Vitality of Character ; the Con
servation of Character ; the Growth, - Influence, Value,
and Cost of Character. It now remains to sketch the
Completion of the Christly Character. For such promise
the heart yearns. In such assurance lies the germ of
hope and imparts a new glow of beauty to all that goes
before ; and we feel that the entire discourse has a mean
ing hitherto unsuspected. Here, at last, we have found
the needed counterpoise to the picture of The Wheat and
the Tares; here the clearer light that shall make that
riddle plain.
"The kingdbm of heaven is like unto a net, that was
cast into the sea, and gathered of every kind: which,
when it was filled, they drew up on the beach ; and they
sat down, and gathered the good into vessels, but the
bad they cast away." Clearly this is intended as a com
panion-piece to the parable of The Wheat and the Tares.
Although the scenes are totally dissimilar, the underlying
truths are closely related, as is manifest from our Lord's
interpretation of the pictures. The difference is chiefly
a matter of emphasis. Both parables treat of the de
velopment and completion of character, but the focus of
the former parable is on the process of development,
while that of the latter is on the attainment of completion.
Present toleration is the lesson of The Wheat and the
Tares; final separation is the promise of The Drag-net.
"Let both grow together" is the command regarding
our treatment of evil in present conditions. Our business
102

THE DRAG-NET
is not to root up evil, but to give ourselves to the positive
culture of the good, to the attainment and cultivation of
righteousness. Yet, after all, this is temporary. We
need not fear that, because we let it grow, the evil will
remain forever to hamper us ; for we have here the prom
ise, "In the end of the world, the angels shall come forth,
and sever the wicked from among the righteous, and
shall cast them into the furnace of fire."
Do not be alarmed if I seem to depart from the tra
ditional interpretation of this parable; for careful con
sideration may show the divergence to be more in seem
ing than in reality. In any case the traditional interpre
tation is by no means harmonious with itself or satis
factory to those who adopt it. It is common to define
the net either as the Church gathering men out of the
world, or as the course of divine Providence by which
all men are at last gathered upon the shores of another
world. By this method of interpretation the identity of
the fisherman is very hard to determine. But the separa
tion is supposed to represent the final judgment and the
divine approval or condemnation of different classes of
persons. ,
If, however, we bear in mind the fact that the king
dom of heaven is not the Church or any other collec
tion or organization of- men, but the Christly character,
we shall see in therparable, not a complex and sofriewhat
mixed drama of probation and judgment, but a simple
picture of the development and maturity of character.
And we shall see that the idea of maturity or comple
tion occupies the prominent foreground, while the
thought of development is made wholly secondary.
What are the net, the fisherman, the sea, the beach?
It matters little how we define these details, or whether
we define them at all. The significance of the picture
lies not in one or another of them. It is rather the
process as a whole, the casting, the gathering, the sep
arating, as a continuous action, that is designed to repre-
103

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
sent something with regard to the kingdom of heaven.
And that something is a process attaining completion.
In a sentence, it is a picture of the completion of the
Christly Character.
Now, what specifically does the parable teach?
This first, does it not? — that character in its
beginnings, even the Christly character, is very
complex. True character must begin with a mix
ture of good and evil; it must infold a diversity of ten
dencies and motives. It "is like unto a net that was cast
into the sea, and gathered of every kind." Mere inno
cence, i. e., freedom from evil, is not character. Our first
parents in the Garden of Eden were not holy. The babe
in the cradle is not. Theirs is the mere unmoral inno
cence of the lambs that skip upon the hillsides or the kit
tens that play upon the floor. Righteousness is the result
of battle and conquest. There is no righteousness that is
not so attained. Even the Christ had his conflict with
temptations, his wilderness battles with Satan, his trials
with too friendly disciples and an enthusiastic populace.
Were it otherwise he could never have been the world's
Saviour. Does not personal experience testify to the
existence of this complex gathering in every heart? In
the process of our moral development evil is always
present with the good, sometimes conquering, sometimes
conquered. Even in the most saintly life we may dis
cover a variety of qualities as diverse as the fish in the
net. Oftentimes we think that we should be better off if
there were no evil ; but God has thought otherwise. What
ever we may conceive to be the origin of evil, of this
we are certain, that God has seen fit to place us in the
midst of it, and to leave us free to choose between the
evil and the good. It may be that, as Emerson has said,
evil is only "good in the making." At all events we
know that all moral strength, all true manhood and
womanhood, grows out of the conflict with and triumph
104

THE DRAG-NET
over sin. The temptation which caused the fall of man
was the only possible means of his rise from animalism
to sainthood. But for the possibility of sin involved in
the presence of evil there were no possibility of
righteousness through the struggle with and victory over,
sin. What is true in the development oi individual char
acter is also and equally true in the building up of char
acter in the race. In fact, the moral growth of the race
is identical in method with that of the individual; but
the outlines are cast upon a larger surface. In the be
ginning we discover the greatest imaginable complexity
of ideals. Even among those who are most earnest to
know the truth and to fulfil the law of righteousness
there is endless diversity in the notions that prevail con
cerning God, religion, government, marriage, and many
other institutions that lie at the very foundations of hu
man life. Over against every truth have appeared a
thousand falsehoods or errors, and human progress has
been achieved only by the comparison of the true and
the false followed by the choice of the true.
In the second place, the parable brings out the fact
that the development of character is towards simplicity
or true unity. The child character is a compound of
good and evil possibilities about evenly balanced. It is
made up of diverse tendencies, none of which pre
ponderates. It contains all potentialities for good and
evil. But the character of mature manhood and woman
hood is distinctly one or the other, good or bad. Who
ever fails to manifest this positive ascendency of the
one over the other remains in a state of moral infancy.
We may not witness the actual completion of the proc
ess in a single instance in this world. That is not
necessary. But, so far as we are permitted to trace it,
the tendency is plain, and its outcome easily foreseen.
The angels, i. e., the divine agencies which surround and
influence all human life, are perpetually separating the
105

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
good from the ill. In the exercise of daily experience
and the atmosphere of a careful Providence, one ele
ment of character increases while the other diminishes.
It may be the good that grows ; it may be the evil. That
depends upon the individual. The messengers of God
present continuous opportunities for highest service and
attainment, each of which infolds a corresponding pos
sibility of evil; the choice between these is a weight cast
upon one side or the other of the scale. The original
balance is never maintained. The mature character is
never as perfectly complex as that of childhood.
The child nature may be fittingly compared to a
chemical compound. Many and varied are the elements
of which it is cofnposed. The agencies by which char
acter is molded are like the precipitant which the chem
ist introduces, and by means of which the compound is
quickly separated into its constituent simples. Moral
growth is a process of precipitation. It is the separation
of moral elements.
Finally the parable contains a promise of the ultimate
perfection of character. Whether we are permitted to
see it in this world or not, the process which has already
begun will go on to completion. The separation be
tween good and evil will at some time be accomplished
and the evil will be removed and destroyed.
The phrase, "in the end of the world," is not abso
lutely definite in its significance. It does not neces
sarily look forward to the time when this earth shall
cease to_ exist as a habitable globe, or to the close of the
racial history, but may refer to the consummation or
end of the process of character building. Our attention
is clearly not called in any definite manner to new con
ditions in another world, but rather to the certain re
sult of conditions and activities which we may perceive
in this world.
The angels of God, in the form of spiritual forces and
laws, are even now separating the good from the evil.
106

THE DRAG-NET
On all sides we may behold them carefully preserving the
good, while they visit the evil with torment and sorrow,
or cast it wholly away. With what disciplines of repent
ance and remorse, it may be of suffering and of pain, is
the sin burned out of the life of an Augustine or a
Bunyan or a John Newton? But after the work is com
pleted, their righteousness has "shone forth as the sun in
the kingdom of their Father." The goal of Christliness
has been reached by men, and this has been the way to it.
But we have not yet heard the last word which our
parable has for us. It is a picture of the growth and
completion of God's kingdom in the individual soul. It is
also a picture of the establishment of that kingdom in
Jjy nindd For the moral and spiritual growth of each
one of us is an accurate type of a similar growth in the
race. In the world the development of character is
from the complex to the simple. The spiritual evolu
tion of mankind has ever been and is to-day a process
of separation. It is accomplished through the attain
ment of ever clearer distinctions between right and
wrong. How complex and murky were the moral ideals of
the early ages! Abraham, the saint of his times, was
a polygamist and a freebooter. Moses, the inspired
lawgiver, was an outlawed murderer. David, the match
less singer of the ages, was a cruel and superstitious
ruler at best, not to speak of the specific crimes that lie
at his door. Even when we come to the early Church,
we find in the lives of those whom we call "saints"
many false notions and low ideals. The prevailing meth
ods and principles of the Christian leaders in the third
and fourth centuries would shame those of the lowest
and most godless politicians of our own time. The his
tory of Christendom has been a course of gradual sepa
ration between good and evil, followed by the destruc
tion of the evil.
By what fierce struggles has tyranny been overthrown
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
and freedom secured! With what fires of sorrow and
sacrifice was the sin of slavery burned out of our own
national life, after the light of gospel truth had been
shining for more than eighteen centuries ! At what cost
of social unrest and danger are we to-day sloughing off
the sins of greed and selfishness from our commerce
and our society! Every day our moral vision grows
clearer. Every day we discover the wrong in customs
and institutions and habits that were formerly consid
ered right. The liquor traffic, for example, which is
now relegated to the low and criminal classes, less
than a century ago was deemed fit for Christian men.
The lottery, which has been countenanced by government
patronage within the brief limits of our own national
history, is to-day banished from the country. Dr. John
Watson says, "To-day a millionaire is respected; there
are signs that in future years a man leaving a huge for
tune will be thought a semi-criminal."
Thus the Spirit of God is slowly but surely separating
the evil from the good among men, and is destroying
the evil. The kingdom of heaven is coming on earth,
however we may be tempted to doubt it at times. He
studies history to little advantage who cannot find num
berless tokens of the moral and spiritual advance of
mankind under the influence of the gospel. We fre
quently hear Christians bemoaning the degeneracy o'f
the Church in the present generation, and the deca
dence of the spiritual life of to-day by contrast with that
of our fathers and grandfathers. A complete and per
manent cure for such pessimism would result from- the
study of Church life and history in New England from
the days of the Puritans to the present. The steady
and marvelous development of both ideals and practise,
the growth of toleration and true beneficence, to say
nothing of the great advance in moral and spiritual life,
give the lie to that most meaningless of phrases, "^the
good old times." 108

THE DRAG-NET
Many sins have been removed and destroyed already.
We may still hear the weeping and gnashing of teeth
of some that are even now in the fire. Others are but
dimly distinguishable from the good, and their destruc
tion is yet to come. Not far distant is the time when
the sin of war will no longer be a blot upon the pages of
Christian history. It may be that you and I will yet
be called upon to give up many a practise which we,
and all other men, now consider perfectly righteous and
innocent. If we are not prepared to do this when the
clearer revelation shall dawn, we have no right to pray,
"Thy kingdom come."
If, now, I have rightly interpreted this parable of The
Drag-net, it is not so much a note of warning as of en
couragement. It is designed to kindle hope rather than
to excite fear. Not judgment and penalty, but freedom
and joy through ultimate triumph is its central thought.
As such is it not a revelation that comes very close to
every one of our lives, and that meets a universal need
in every aspiring soul ?
We stand face to face with a host of evils. As we
strive for saintly character we are sometimes tempted
to give over the struggle in despair. Christliness seems
utterly unattainable. "The good which we would we do
not : but the evil which we would not, that we practise,"
is the true expression of our common experience. And
when, turning from ourselves to others, we seek to bring
the Christly character into the world about us, when we
aim at some manifest good for our fellow men and find
our efforts unappreciated, yes, thwarted, by those whom
we would help and save, we are tempted to believe that
the world is growing worse instead of better, and that
there is no such thing as moral completeness or per
fection. The saintly Faber has voiced the feelings of number
less disciples in the familiar lines,
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
"Oh, it is hard to work for God,
To rise and take his part
Upon this battle-field of earth,
And not sometimes lose heart!

Ill masters good; good seems to change
To ill with greatest ease;
And, worst of all, the good with good
Is at cross-purposes."
Many others can echo the lines of Tennyson, —
"Oh, yet we trust that somehow good
Will be the final goal of ill,
To pangs of nature, sins of will,
Defects of doubt, and taints of blood;
^: 5}e :)e * s(s jp
I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope,
And gather dust and chaff, and call
To what I feel is Lord of all,
And faintly trust the larger hope."
Yes, our perplexity is often deep, our trust faint in
deed. How can the Christly character be maintained in
the midst of so much sin? How can the kingdom of
heaven be won when the powers of evil are so— strong
and so wise and so persistent? So we question.- And
there comes to us across the centuries this parable with
its message of hope and promise. Like a guiding^star
it beckons us onward with its ceaseless assurance, f<The
good you seek shall triumph; the evil you hate shall
some time be destroyed. You shall not labor nor strive
in vain. The Christly character, the perfect righteous
ness shall be yours; it shall at last be the character of
the race. 'Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father's
good pleasure to give you the kingdom' " ! j
no

Character an Interpreter
of Truth

CHAPTER IX.
Character an Interpreter
of Truth
THE HOUSEHOLDER AND HIS TREASURE
Matt. 13)52
Text.— "Every scribe ivho hath been made a disciple to the kingdom of
heaven is like unto a man that is a householder, ivho bringeth forth
out of his treasure things neiu and old. " — Matt. 13:52
"Truth is one,
And in all lands beneath the sun,
Whoso hath eyes to see, may see
The tokens of its unity."
AH yes, whoso hath eyes to see! But, alas.
all have not eyes ; or having eyes, see not
Not only do many fail to discern the unity
of truth, but they fail to discover even the
most transparent meaning of truth. For
whoever would see the real meaning in the sim
plest truth must have not .eyes alone, but a mind behind
the eyes, and behind that a soul.
I know that the popular analysis resolves sight into
three prime factors — eyes to look, an object to look at,
and light to transmute looking into seeing; but this
analysis is incomplete unless we include in our thought
of the eye all that goes with it of mind and soul to
affect its working. The eagle from his rocky eyrie or
the wild mountain goat of the Alps looks out over mag
nificent peaks and crags with eyes of extraordinary vis
ual power; but what is the seeing of either of these
by comparison with that of a man, especially if that man
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
be an artist? His eye may be dim and his vision im
perfect, yet with whatsoever defects and limitations of
vision, he sees more at a single glance from some lofty
vantage-point than has been seen by all the wild crea
tures since time began ; for behind his eye is a mind.
Carry the thought a step further. The visions or
seeings of different men differ one from another no less
widely than the vision of a man differs from that of an
animal. One man has no eye for symmetry of form ; an
other cannot distinguish beauty of coloring. One will
see more in a square mile of travel than another will
discover while exploring a continent. For one a single
blossom contains marvels which his neighbor would not
find in the whole vegetable creation. Here is a man who
sees no beauty in a landscape, no grandeur in the ocean,
no glory in the mountains, mist-veiled and blue. There
in his brother to whom these sights bring a thrill of
delight or a profound sense of awe.
We also perceive a like diversity in the outlook upon
life. There are eyes that see in life only a dull and weari
some necessity, and in men a most uninteresting race
of beings not far removed from the apes. To other
eyes every day of life brings its fresh inspiration and
.delight, and every new acquaintance is a repository of
unknown possibilities. A Carlyle looks out over the
English nation and mutters, "Forty million people, most
ly fools!" A Gregory, seeing several fair-haired Sax
on youths in the Roman slave-market and being told
that they were called "Angles," says, "Call them rather
'Angels,'" and gives himself no rest till he has assured
the evangelization of Britain.
How shall we account for this diversity in the seeing
of different men? Clearly it is not due to difference in
the physical eye; nor is it wholly in the mental vision.
Variations of intellectual power or keenness do not ex
plain all the diversities of result, for the brightest minds
often fail to discover things which reveal themselves in-
114

THE HOUSEHOLDER & HIS TREASURE
stantly to minds of duller mold. If, then, the physical
and the mental organs are insufficient to solve this rid
dle of human seeing, we must look deeper than these ;
we must take into account the moral and spiritual ele
ments of our being. In a word, character must be rec
ognized as a significant factor in vision. And if this
be true of literal seeing, the seeing that has to do with
the material universe and with the outward life of man,
how much more true is it of that seeing which deals.
with the immaterial and the abstract — with the percep
tion of truth!
Now this is, if I mistake not, precisely the thought
that Jesus seeks to unfold in the parable of The House
holder and His Treasure. The parable has been sadly
neglected, and probably few readers of Scripture think
of it as a parable at all. It has been passed over in
silence by the leading expositors, for some unexplained
reason, and the example thus set has been followed al
most universally by the host of minor exegetes. Never
theless we have here a true parable and one that is di
rectly in line with the others recorded in the same chap
ter. More than this, it is closely interwoven with the
rest and its message is essential to the completeness of
the Master's thought.
Stripped of metaphor and translated into the language
of common life, the suggestion of the parable may be ex
pressed in a single phrase : Christly character a necessary
factor in the interpretation of divine truth.
The two figures, that present themselves to us for
comparison are a scribe and a householder. The former
is described as "a scribe who hath been made a disciple
to the kingdom of heaven," that is to say, "Every teacher
or student of divine truth who diligently cultivates the
Christly character." Many a student and teacher of
truth brings to his work his intellect alone. Not a few
Bible students even rely implicitly and solely upon gram
mar, lexicon, concordance and commentary for the in-
115

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
terpretation of its message. They enter upon their task
equipped with all the learning of the schools, and con
sider that sufficient for the discovery of all that the Bible
contains. Others there are who recognize the value of
these things, but recognize also the fact that in them
selves they are not adequate for the complete interpre
tation of the divine message. That requires a devout
approach and a spiritual insight. Scholarship as it is
commonly defined must be reenforced by character;
learning must be subordinated to spirit; mind must be
servant of soul. And it is this latter class, unfortunately
a class that is always in the minority even among Chris
tian students, whom Jesus represents as scribes who
have been made disciples to the kingdom of heaven.
They are the men who seek not merely the body of
truth, i. e., the bare facts that may be classified and
tabulated, but the very soul of truth, truth that applies
to life and conduct, and that makes for the perfection of
character. The second figure in the comparison is a householder
"who bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and
old." Do you catch the meaning of the similitude?
This, is it not? In whatever field such a student works
he will continually discover new truths and new mean
ings in old truths. Whether he investigate the reve
lation of God in nature or study the record of his do
ings upon the written page, he will daily reap a harvest
of fresh and helpful thought. Though poorly equipped
with the learning of the schools, his findings will be im
measurably richer than the findings of his brother who
brings to his task the best mental training and talent
without the Christly character.
We may not be able to explain the fact, but fact it is
none the less, that the universe has always yielded its se
crets to Christly men or to men who are striving for
Christliness, while it has withheld them from the ungodly.
Even in a material sense this is true. The vast material
116

THE HOUSEHOLDER & HIS TREASURE
resources of the world have remained hidden till men
have sought them in the spirit of the Christ. All great
inventions and discoveries have come to Christian na
tions. The discoveries of pagan nations are trifles be
side them. Did the pagan Chinese invent printing?
No! The possibilities and methods of printing present
ed themselves to the Chinese, but they were unable to
grasp them in any practical fashion. It was left for a
Christian Gutenberg to invent the printing-press and
give it to the world. Did heathen Norsemen discover
America ? No ! They came to America, stumbled upon
it as it were, and returned to their homes no wiser than
they came. The new continent still lay hidden from the
eyes of men till a Christian Columbus found it and knew
what he had found. For heathen nations the earth con
tained its stores of coal, its rich treasures of power,
its abundant resources of food supply ; but only Christian
peoples have been able in any complete manner to bring
forth and interpret and utilize these. Men talk about
"the lost arts" of antiquity; but magnify those lost arts
as you please, and they are a mere cipher by contrast
with the arts that the ancients never found.
Throughout the ages the rocks have told their silent
story of creation and progress, and in all lands the ruins
and the monuments of the past have been exposed to
the eyes of men; yet the heathen have no science of
geology or archeology. These are the developments
of Christian civilization. For centuries uncounted the
heathen have tried to read the revelation that shines up
on the scroll of the heavens, and what have they made
of it? Only a senseless and utterly misleading super
stition known as astrology. Studying the same limit
less page, the Christian world has seen unfolded there
the science of astronomy through whose voice, as never
before, "the heavens declare the glory of God." In
stead of a jumble of mysterious and causeless influences,
117

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
our Newtons and Proctors and Keplers have discovered
a marvelous system of laws and a unity of design and
operation manifesting themselves in every part of the
infinite universe and testifying to the infinite wisdom and
power of the Creator. From this treasure-house many
things new are being brought forth year after year.
Nor is it otherwise in the study of life. How many
shepherds, for example, from earliest times have been
familiar with all the numerous duties and relations of
the shepherd life and have found in them only common
place drudgery and wearisome labor ! But a godly David
looks upon that life with an eye made keen by the
search for true and noble character, and it glistens with
a marvelous message of the love and care of God. As
a result the world is enriched by the possession of a
Shepherd Psalm. The Christ looks upon the same page
of life and it unfolds to him the matchless parable of
The Lost Sheep and the simile of The Good Shepherd.
Thoughtless multitudes attend the Greek games and see
in them merely exhibitions of physical skill or endurance,
the passing enjoyment of an hour often brutalizing in
its influence and degrading in its associations. A de
vout Paul watches them, and for him they take on a
deeper meaning as wrestler and racer, and, including
even the cruel gladiator, become suggestive types of
Christian discipleship and noblest service.
Best of all illustrations of this truth is found in the
chapter in which our parable occurs. Here is not one
picture but a series of pictures drawn from the most
commonplace walks and occupations of life, the husband
man in the field, the housewife in the kitchen, the mer
chantman in the market-place, the fisherman on the lake.
What had these for the multitude but suggestions of
toil and strife and greed and worldliness? But to the
mind of the Christ they spoke deathless messages of
truth, and interpreted by him they were forever trans
formed into types of highest living. What wonders of
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THE HOUSEHOLDER & HIS TREASURE
new thought were brought forth from very old things
that day by the seaside ! For behind the eyes that looked
upon these things, behind the intellect that comprehended
their facts and relations, was a perfect character, a di
vine purpose that could appreciate their larger possibili
ties and their deeper meanings and could bring these
out in such manner that others could see them also.
The Christly character, then, is the supreme requisite
for the interpretation of God's truth as revealed in na
ture. It is Godlikeness that, more than anything else, en
ables us to think God's thoughts after him, so that we
can understand his workings in the material universe
and use his laws and forces for our own highest good.
It is character, also, that enables us rightly to interpret
the meaning of life and to discover in the experiences
and activities of every day the manifestations of God's
presence and the revelations of his will.
Nor is this all. Another application of the same truth
remains. Not only is the Christly character necessary
to the complete interpretation of God's revelation in na
ture and in life, it is equally necessary to a clear and
worthy interpretation of God's written message. With
out that character the spoken word and the written record
are alike mysterious and without meaning. We call the
Bible God's Book, and we study it to learn his will and
to bring ourselves into harmony with his Spirit and life ;
but it makes a vast difference how we study the Book,
and with what equipment we approach its pages. Many
have searched the Scriptures long and earnestly in vaia
To them the pages yielded no. fruit of enlightenment of
strength or spiritual growth. The Book is sealed to'
their eyes. They cannot discover its message. So was
it with the Pharisees of our Lord's time. Though fa
miliar with every part of their Scriptures, they were
strangely blind to the truths which those Scriptures
taught in the plainest manner. To others the Book is
a mine of spiritual treasure, a perennial fountain of
119

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
spiritual light and inspiration. What is the difference?
Is it a matter of intellect alone? Clearly not; for not a
few of those who find nothing in the Bible are men and
women of exceptional intellectual power and cultivation.
The Pharisees and the scribes were the scholars of their
age; the Paines and Voltaires and Ingersolls of later
times have often been men of brilliant intellectual gifts.
What then? It is a question of character and spirit.
Even God's Word is voiceless to the godless soul, and
speaks only in riddles or whispers to him who lacks the
Christly purpose in his study.
The present age is an age of intellectualism. We mag
nify the value of scholarship in religion as in all things
else, and rightly so. Careful study and mental acumen
with thorough training are matters of no trifling impor
tance; yet does not the Bible or any similar book yield
its most precious truths in response to the demands of
scholarship alone. Dwight L. Moody, the unlearned
evangelist of the nineteenth century, and many others
even less scholarly than he, have brought forth from the
Bible treasures of spiritual truth far richer than have
been discovered by the profoundest students of our time.
Why? Because they brought to the study of the Word
a devout spirit and a character ever reaching upward to
ward the divine. He who would find the most and best
in his Bible must read it not merely in the light of gram
mar and lexicon and commentary, but on his knees with
a prayer upon his lips and a devout purpose in his heart
to seek the kingdom of heaven. The Christly character
and that alone can unlock the profoundest secrets of
God's Book. Truly "the secret of the Lord is with
them that fear him."
Do not misunderstand me. I have no sympathy with
the outcry of narrow minds against modern scholarship.
Not for a moment would I question the value of the
most thorough critical study of the Bible ; for the critics
have done priceless service for the world. Neverthe-
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THE HOUSEHOLDER & HIS TREASURE
less I assert that learning is subordinate to character in
the interpretation of truth. It is imperative that we
bring to our study all the learning possible; but if we
cannot have both learning and Christly character, then
by all means let us have character. As a leading thinks
er recently said, "Scholarship is important, the scien
tific methods are of inestimable value, but spiritual power
and a consciousness of the presence of God are absolutely
vital." Do we not all of us appreciate the value of
keen and perfect physical vision? Nevertheless we
know that defective vision with a keen mind will see
more than the keenest vision with a dull mind. Even so
a devout and godly soul with little learning will inter
pret God more surely in word or work than the keenest
intellect without such a character. A Wesley or a Kitto
will find more truth and more helpful truth than a
Strauss and a Rousseau; and some simple-minded old
woman will discover rare gems that have eluded the
search of the whole Tubingen school.
One more suggestion our parable offers us. It is
this : The disciple of the kingdom may expect to make
continually progressive discoveries in the realm of di
vine truth. The significance of any revelation will not
be exhausted by a single interpretation. Every new
reading will bring out its new message harmonizing with
and filling out the old. The truth discovered yesterday
will have a larger meaning to-day, or it may even be
eclipsed by a wholly fresh truth. So life will be a con
tinuous panorama and its meaning will unfold in unex
pected ways. The Book, too, will speak its new mes
sages. Come to the Bible with the intellect alone, and
it speaks ever one and the same truth. There is no
progress, no growth. Come to it with the "hunger and
thirst for righteousness" that is implied in the Christly
character, and the old Book will glow with new truth at
every advancing step. What it spoke yesterday will
not be less true to-day, but it will be less complete, less
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
satisfying. The old parables read hundreds of times
will contribute each time something new for life and
thought. The most familiar and hackneyed passages
will never become dull or worthless, because they will
reveal new meanings. That is why the Bible has retained
its freshness through the passing centuries. It is
the power of a growing Christliness in individuals and
in the Christian Church making ever new applications
of the old teachings. In some sense the twentieth cen
tury interpretation of the gospel may be no better than
that of the tenth century, but it is more perfectly adapt
ed to the needs of the twentieth century in its life and
thought. How fittingly this parable concludes the discourse by
the sea! At the beginning of that discourse Jesus had
appealed to his hearers to attend to what he should say,
that his words might not fail to produce their due im-*
pression upon their minds. Now he appeals to them to
aim at the heavenly character as the essential condi
tion of understanding his words in their largest signifi
cance. It is well to study truth diligently, to be at
tentive, alert, earnest; but unless to this is added a,
genuine aspiration toward that which is highest in
character and life, the effort and the study will not
yield their richest fruit.
Is there any danger that we shall be too scholarly in
our approach to God ? Never ! That is not the danger,
but that our scholarship shall become too self-sufficient,
that intellect shall arrogate to itself the supreme place
that belongs only to character. Enthrone Christ in the
heart, be reverent, humble, devout, then welcome learn
ing, welcome science, welcome art, invention, discovery,
and all other acquisitions of modern progress; for
they will thus become effective instruments for the inter
pretation of God's message to mankind.
The true attitude of all Christian scholarship has been
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THE HOUSEHOLDER & HIS TREASURE
graphically presented to us by Whittier. You remember
the lines: —
"On the isle of Penikese,
Ringed about by sapphire seas,
Fanned by breezes salt and cool,
Stood the Master with his school.
Said the Master to the youth :
We have come in search of truth.
Trying with uncertain key
Door by door of mystery.
Of our weakness made aware,
On the threshold of our task
Let us light and guidance ask,
Let us pause in silent prayer!"
Come to the study of God's revelation in this spirit,
and every instrumentality you employ shall be potent for
discovery and interpretation. So shall all doors of mys
tery be unlocked, and to you shall open the secrets of
divinest truth and you shall enrich many souls as you
enrich your own.

183

The Equation of
Character

CHAPTER X
The Equation of
Character
THE VINEYARD LABORERS
Matt. 20:1-16
Text. — "The kingdom of heaven is like unto a man . . . ivho went
out . . . to hire laborers into his vineyard." — Matt. 20:1
HUMAN life is a common fraction. Oppor
tunity is its denominator; service is its
numerator; and character or destiny is the
quotient, the value of the fraction.
In every spiritual fraction God writes
down the denominator — opportunity, talent, privilege;
all these are divine gifts. Then he leaves man to write
the numerator — service, achievement, devotion; and to
work out the result in personal worth and destiny.
The common complaint charges God with writing the de
nominator too small. We murmur that our opportuni
ties are few, our privileges scanty. Jealous of the
larger denominators of other lives, we often fail to write
into our own any numerator of service, and so the frac
tion of our lives is worthless.
A little study of simple arithmetic ought to be a per
manent cure for this form of jealousy and an inspiration
to hopeful and grateful service. You recall the old
formula: — "To increase a fraction, multiply the numer
ator or divide the denominator. To decrease a frac
tion, multiply the denominator or divide the numera
tor." That is to say, the larger the denominator, the
smaller the fraction. Why, then, should you murmur at
127

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
the smallness of your gifts and opportunities, since larger
opportunities would make your life smaller unless you
write over them the larger numerator of increasingly
diligent and faithful service?
The man with ten talents must divide every service
and every attainment by ten to get its real value; the
man with five talents must reckon continually by five,
whereas the man with only one talent may estimate
every service at its full value, since dividing by unity
leaves the numerator undiminished.
The spiritual or moral value of every life, therefore,
may be expressed in the form of an arithmetical equa
tion as follows: — ¦
CHARACTER = Strvia

Opportunity

And this may well be called — The Equation of Charac
ter. In this equation is embodied precisely the truth which
our Lord illustrates and enforces in the parable of The
Vineyard Laborers. Here as everywhere else in the New
Testament the phrase "kingdom of heaven" signifies the
heavenly life in the soul and in the race, the Christly
character that brings present righteousness and peace
and joy, and that enfolds within itself our future des
tiny, salvation and the life eternal, as the bud enfolds
the rose. It is a phrase .that gathers up and expresses
in concisest form all the manifold results and outcomes
of our life from whatever standpoint we may view them.
The parable represents to us one of the great principles
by which these are wrought out. Briefly stated, it says
to us, "The result of your life and mine is not determined
solely by our opportunities and privileges and favor
ing circumstances, which are the gifts of God. Nor, on
the other hand, can it be estimated by our achievements
alone, by the things which we accomplish and acquire
through our human effort. Rather is that result meas-
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THE VINEYARD LABORERS
ured by the ratio between the divine gift and the human
service." Not the multitude nor the magnitude of our op
portunities, but the use we make of such opportunities
as we have, whether small or great,, whether many or
few, is the test of our worth, the measure of our reward.
Studying the parable in detail, it falls naturally into
three divisions, representing successively the three ele
ments of our spiritual equation and leading us step by
step to its divine solution.
The first division consists of two verses, which tell
us how a certain man went out one morning to hire
laborers for his vineyard. It is a simple picture of
human life in which the key-note is Service. And its
interpretation is equally simple. Listen to its message.
Character is attained only by means of service. Salva
tion comes only through service. Spiritual rewards or
spiritual achievements involve spiritual service. Without
service there is no true life either physical or spiritual.
The divine spark is implanted in the soul by the Holy
Spirit; but it must be nourished, fanned to a flame,
made to glow with a continual heat,, by our own effort
in behalf of others. This is a truth that runs all through
the New Testament.
You remember how the apostle Peter expresses this
eternal relation between opportunity, service and salva
tion: "Seeing that his divine power hath granted unto
us all things that pertain unto life and godliness" (there
is opportunity ; it must be followed by service) , "for this
very cause, adding on your part all diligence, in your
faith supply virtue; and in your virtue knowledge," etc.
(And the reward is assured.) "For thus shall be richly
supplied unto you the entrance into the eternal kingdom
qf our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." And St. Paul
puts the same thought in his epistle to the Philippians:
"Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling"
(service obtaining the reward), "for it is God who work-
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
eth in you" (i. e., it is God that gives the opportunity
to work).
Salvation, in the largest sense of the word, as a com
plete restoration of the divine character, can be enjoyed
only when we work together with God. It is God working
in us to create that new spiritual life which we must
work out or manifest in godly service. It is God im
parting to us the needful power which we must use
diligently in adding to faith virtue and knowledge and
temperance and patience and all the other graces and
virtues if we would obtain an entrance into the eternal
kingdom of the Christly character. Unless we are will
ing thus to work with God, we shall pray in vain for
our own salvation.
"Hope not the cure of sin till self is dead :
Forget it in love's service, and the debt
Thou canst not pay, the angels shall forget :
Heaven's gate is shut to him who comes alone;
Save thou a soul, and it shall save thine own."
Turn now to the second division of the parable. Its
key-word is Opportunity. It includes five verses, and tells
us how the householder went out again and again
during the day into the market-place to hire more labor
ers, repeating his calls even until the eleventh hour.
Like the first, this scene presents no extraordinary fea
tures. In every detail it is as true to life as the scene
which goes before, and its meaning is equally plain.
When we are ready for service, then comes the oppor
tunity for service. Each time the householder goes
forth, he employs all whom he finds, and he goes till the
very last hour of the day. Note, in this connection,
two facts. First, the men who are employed are in
the market-place. Second, they are standing. That
is, they are in the right place and in the right attitude.
Both facts indicate readiness for service. The house-
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THE VINEYARD LABORERS
holder does not search the streets,, he does not approach
those who are sitting about the bazaars or loafing on
the street corners.
These facts are suggestive. In our land to-day there
is a vast army of men and women out of employment,
many of whom claim to be looking for work and are
often heard complaining because no work comes to them.
Yet very often their appearance and attitude do not in
dicate real readiness for work, and they are not found
in the places where work seeks for workers. As a mat
ter of fact they are not ready for work. They wish foB
the rewards of labor, but for labor itself they have no
relish. These have their counterpart in the Church of Christ.
Are not we ourselves actuated many times by their spirit?
How often do we pray for the rewards of service, for
spiritual growth and enlargement and joy, and all the
while we carefully avoid the market-place whenever the
Lord or his stewards are there seeking for laborers in
the vineyard! We complain of spiritual poverty and
leanness, and when some needed but not wholly agree
able work is presented to us we hold back and refuse
to undertake it.
Do you feel that your life is wanting in opportunity
to do God's work and to share in his rewards? Then
let the Lord find you in the market-place, standing, when
he comes for workers and he will surely call you to
service. In other words,, be ready, alert, willing to take
whatever chance be given you, and you will not long
remain in idleness.
Is not this picture lull of encouragement? Per
haps you are conscious that many precious hours of
your day have flown. You were not in the market
place at dawn. It may be that the third hour is past,
and also the sixth. Thank God the ninth hour or the
eleventh still remains ! Do not despair. The Lord will
come again if you are even now ready for him. Some
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
opportunity of service may still be yours. Never did
the Lord of the vineyard visit the market-place so fre
quently, never did he call so persistently for laborers as
now. And in no land is the call so imperative as ours.
The harvest is waiting. Work abounds for all who are
ready and willing. Hear the clarion call:
"We are living, we are dwelling,
In a grand and awful time,
In an age on ages telling;
To be living is sublime.
Oh, let all the soul within you
For the truth's sake go abroad.
Strike ! let every nerve and sinew
Tell on ages, tell for God !"
Not a disciple need remain one moment in idleness.
Could any truth be more encouraging?
But there is also another side. Remember — the night
cometh ! How the glorious day rushes by ! With what
terrible distinctness the clock strikes off the hours! It
is the third hour, the sixth hour, the ninth hour, the
eleventh — and the night cometh! Opportunity is giv
ing place to fate. Privilege congeals into destiny.
Idleness means loss of opportunity, loss of privilege,, loss
of power, and at last death. Yes, the night cometh !
A single scene remains. Our story reveals a third
division comprising nine verses; and this is the picture
which these verses present to us. The busy day has at
length drawn to its close. The shadows of evening be
gin to fall over the earth and toil must cease. Again
the householder calls the laborers, this time not to ser
vice but to reward. Bidding his steward pay them in
turn, beginning with the latest comers, he pays them all
alike, a penny to each man. A fair and full day's
wage paid even to men who had worked but a single
hour. Seeing this, the first comers grumble because
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THE VINEYARD LABORERS
they have received no more than those who came into
the vineyard at the eleventh hour. What says the house
holder ? "Did ye not agree with me for a penny ? Take
thy due and depart. May I not do as I please with
mine own?"
The essential thought of this scene is Reward, which
reward in the spiritual world we may translate by the
word Character or Salvation or Eternal Life, according
to the point of view from which we consider it.
I have called attention to the fact that the action por
trayed in the two preceding sections of the parable was in
no way out of the ordinary. Not so with this scene.
The conduct of the employer in this final settlement is
more than unusual. It is extremely unlikely and un
natural. It sets at naught all our commonly accepted
notions of thrift and justice. It is wholly outside the
science of economics as taught in our schools and as ap
plied in the every-day relations of capital and labor. It
can only be explained as an act of good-natured ca
price on the part of the householder. Yet, arbitrary
though it be from the standpoint of our imperfect and
limited human relations,, I think that we can see in it
a representation of that which in the perfect conditions
of the spiritual life is neither arbitrary nor unjust, nay,
rather of that which is infinitely just and fair. In any
case the interpretation is unavoidable: God pays his
servants, not by the day nor by the piece, but by dili
gence and purpose. The spirit of service is the basis
of reward. Quality is more than quantity, and faith
fulness is more than time.
Now I venture to assert that this method of reckon
ing is not in flat contradiction to the highest economic
wisdom, however far removed it may be from our com
mon and even necessary practise in this earthly life. In
'so far as the action of this householder was arbitrary,
a simple doing "what I will with mine own," it fails to
represent the spirit and action of God in his dealings with
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
men. Grace does not mean good-natured caprice. It
does not mean unreasoning benevolence. It does not
mean a careless disregard of law and reliable sequence
in the relations between God and man. Rather does it
presuppose the strictest justice in a perfectly fair and
equitable system. Grace is not the foil of law; it is an
essential factor in the working of perfect law.
The first and most inalienable right of every man is
the right of opportunity. The world does not owe every
man a living, as so many modern would-be economists
declare; but the world does owe to every man a fair
chance to earn a living. Until this chance is given, so
ciety has no claim on any man. But when the oppor
tunity has been given, the world justly demands that
each shall use it to make his own living and to enrich
society. Even so God owes to every human being whom
he has created the opportunity to attain the Christlike
character, to work out his own salvation. But when the
opportunity has been given it becomes each man's duty
to translate the opportunity into service and through
service into character.
When, therefore, Jesus says, "Many that are first shall
be last; and the last first," he does not mean to tell us
that the principles and methods of the heavenly life are
utterly at variance with those operating in the present
state of existence, and that hereafter we shall be judged
and rewarded by standards of which we now know noth
ing. Rather does he mean that the principles of right
eousness, which are often hindered and perverted in their
working by the imperfections of human society and the
limitations of human knowledge, will work out their re
sults perfectly in the unclouded light of the heavenly
kingdom, and so will correct many an error of present
judgment and action. Every change will be a change
of correction, not of subversion. Motive and spirit
will be clearly revealed and will have their proper place
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THE VINEYARD LABORERS
in the account, and the adjustments will be made in the
light of omniscience.
It is one of the great injustices, growing out of the
present imperfection of our human society and the un
avoidable limitations of our human life, that many who
are among the most faithful and diligent of earth's toilers
receive but scant reward for their toil because of their
small opportunities, while others with larger opportu
nities which they have used far less faithfully secure
greatest returns. In fact, many who do not toil at all
enjoy a rich inheritance which has come to them from
others or live a life that is really parasitic. In a per
fectly just and wise social system the highest awards
would always go to the most faithful and diligent toilers,
to those who made the most of their opportunities
whether those opportunities be great or small.
This is the principle and the practise in God's king
dom. It is the rule that is working itself out both in
the present life and in the life to come in relation to the
really vital matters. To whom little is given, of him lit
tle is required, but to whom God commits much, of
him he requires the more. The thief on the cross, em
bracing the first opportunity that had come to him to
seek Christ's mercy, is welcomed to Paradise just as
heartily as the saint who has built up a noble and
respected character out of the superior opportunities of
half a century.
"She hath done what she could," is the expression
of supreme merit in the Gospel. It is not, "She hath
done some great thing," "She hath achieved great suc
cess or fame," "She hath performed some extraordinary
act of beneficence or kindness," but "what she could."
Opportunity used to the full, that is perfection, that
calls forth the divine approval and secures the eternal
reward. I repeat, this is the law that governs in the kingdom
of heaven. It is the law which will be perfectly re-
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
vealed in all things hereafter, and it is the law which
reveals itself in all vital matters here and now. The
sin and weakness of men may frustrate its working in
material things. There may be injustice and inequality
in the material rewards which men receive for their
toil, but in spiritual things there is no such interfer
ence. In the matter of character-building the law works
out its results unerringly. Thus step by step we have
been led back to the thought with which we set out,
viz., that character equals service divided by opportu
nity. This parable never touched more closely upon hu
man life than it does at the present time. It is a true pic
ture of every life in our land. This is a time of un
paralleled opportunity. Whether we appreciate the fact
or not, God is coming again and again to every one of
us with his invitations to labor in the vineyard. Ha
is writing in every one of our lives the denominator of
opportunity and he is writing it large. To us he leaves
the task of putting over it our numerator of service,
Did it ever occur to you that these privileges and bless
ings which our age and circumstances bring to us will
only leave us the worse unless we make worthy use of
them? A rich inheritance or the endowment of un
usual talent is no reason for idleness or ease. Rather
should these gifts spur us to more tireless endeavor.
"For this very cause," says the apostle Peter, "adding on
your part all diligence." The poor man may afford to
live in idleness, the rich man never. The gift of God
that is not a spur to service becomes transformed into
a snare of Satan. The danger of it is in direct propor
tion to its greatness.
The passing centuries have added a hundredfold to
the significance of the householder's question, "Why
stand ye here all the day idle?" In this world, where
there is so much work to be done, where there are such
boundless opportunities and possibilities for 'every life,
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THE VINEYARD LABORERS
where all labor reaps s,o rich a reward, the crime of
crimes is idleness. "Woe to them that are at ease,"
saith the Lord. Yet even the Christian Church is al
most hopelessly at ease. Christian society abounds in
idlers. Multitudes of disciples are complacently gaging
their claims to the reward of righteousness by what
others have done for them rather than by anything that
they have done for others. They take foolish and fatal
pride in the fact that the fraction of their lives has a
large denominator.
To-day the Lord is calling for laborers. In every vine
yard he wants them. The harvest waits. He is calling
now. Every call means duty,, but it means more. It
means opportunity, it means privilege; the salvation of
immortal souls is bound up in every call. Then —
"Up, and be doing! The time is brief,
And life is frail as an autumn leaf.
The day is bright and the sun is high,
Ere long 'twill fade from the glowing sky;
The harvest is white, and the fields are wide,
And thou at thine ease may'st not abide.
The reapers are few and far between,
And Death is abroad with his sickle keen.
Go forth and labor ! A crown awaits
The faithful servant at heaven's high gates,
Work with thy might ere the day of grace
Is spent, ere the night steals on apace.
The Master has given his pledge divine,
'Who winneth souls, like the stars shall shine'."

137

Forgiveness a Factor in
Character Building

CHAPTER XI
Forgiveness a Factor in
Character Building
THE UNFORGIVING SERVANT
Matt. 18:21-35
Text. — "So shall also my heavenly Father do unto you." — Matt. 18:35
WHAT a picture of infinite vindictiveness
these words present! Here is the charac
ter of God, the heavenly Father, painted
in all the lurid colorings of revenge and
fiery indignation. The flames of divine
wrath, kindled by the ungrateful conduct of man, break
forth to torment and consume a_soul that has already
been forgiven, but has failed to manifest the fruits
of forgiveness. Such is the first impression made
upon our hiinds as we read the closing words of our
parable. Too often this is the impression that remains
with us as the lesson which our Lord intended to teach.
A more careful study of the parable, however, dis
covers that it is in reality a picture of divinest love, a
love that is not satisfied with anything less than the
complete blessedness of all God's children, a love that
works' inexorably in order that it may work perfectly
and beneficently. True, it is a picture of the operation
of divine law in human life ; but it is not less emphatical
ly a picture of divine grace. Not loveless wrath, even
at the last, but loving severity that strives ever and only
for the happiness of its object.
This parable of The Unforgiving Servant is spoken
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
by the Master to enforce and illustrate his reply to a
question of Peter. "Lord, how oft shall my brother sin
against me, and I forgive him?" asks the ever-ready
spokesman of the Apostles. Then, to show his own gen
erosity and kindliness of spirit, he adds, "Until seven
times?" Surely that were a wondrous display of grace
that would forgive a wrong seven times repeated; and
I doubt not that Peter expected the hearty endorsement
of Jesus. Imagine his surprise, therefore, when the re
ply comes back, "I say not unto thee, Until seven times ;
but, Until seventy times' seven." That is to say, "Why,
Peter, the spirit of forgiveness knows no limit; it can
never be exhausted."
Imagine now the effect of these words upon Peter
and his brother apostles. Here was a new law of for
giveness, simple enough so far as its mere statement was
concerned, but utterly incomprehensible, from their point
of view, in its application. It seemed unreasonable, ar
bitrary. To' their minds forgiveness was at once a very
gracious and a very difficult act; and its continual repe
tition seemed to contradict plainest reason. On the one
hand, they felt that it was more than could justly be ex
pected of any man.; on the other, they considered such
boundless grace as wholly useless, if not positively wrong.
They are not a few even in our own day who believe that
forgiveness must have a limit if all law and order are
not to be stultified.
You see then why Jesus expands his answer into a
parable. He wishes to put the whole question of sin
and forgiveness in a new light, to show the relative in
significance of wrongs suffered by a comparison with
wrongs done, and to make very clear the reflex influ
ence of the spirit of forgiveness upon personal character.
For this purpose he tells a simple story of ruin brought
about by the spirit of unforgiveness.
The salient points of the parable are evident to the
most casual reader. Two contrasts stand out clearly.
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THE UNFORGIVING SERVANT
They are, (a) a contrast of condition, and (b) a con
trast of action.
Note first the contrast of condition. Here are two
servants, both in debt; but in the one case the debt is
"ten thousand talents" and "nothing wherewith to pay";
in the other "an hundred pence" and only time required
to insure full payment.
Note also the contrast in action. The king, in a truly
royal spirit, freely forgave the enormous debt. The ser
vant, with the spirit of a slave, cast his fellow servant
into prison for a mere trifle.
The retribution that follows at the hands of the justly
indignant king is far more terrible than the fate which
originally threatened the debtor servant.
As we read the story we sympathize heartily with the
wrath of the king and we feel that the punishment in
flicted by him was just. At the same time we are con
scious that it embodies a certain harshness of spirit and
an arbitrary use of power which we cannot attribute to an
infinitely loving God. That the heavenly Father should
revoke a pardon once granted, and that he should visit
retributive torment upon one of his children, is not to be
thought of for a moment.< Such an act would place him
in the category of a pagan tyrant, capricious, irresponsi
ble, unlovable and unloving.
There is serious danger in that method of dealing with
the parables which seeks to establish exact parallels be
tween the lines of the picture and those of the divine life,
and to find in each figure of the story the perfect repre
sentative of some personality involved in our spiritual
relations. By this method the character of God has often
been sadly distorted and misrepresented to men. To
escape this danger we must adopt a much more elastic
and general method of interpretation. Clearly we cannot
make the king in the story before us a true representative
of God in spirit and action. We must rather see in his
conduct and spirit the embodiment of certain facts and
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
laws that work not capriciously but surely and invari
ably in carrying out God's great plan for the redemption
of man. What are these facts and laws ?
The chief difficulty with this parable and others like it
is that they sometimes lead us to externalize God in our
thought and to picture the kingdom of heaven as an or
ganization or institution outside ourselves. We see in
the picture a God who sits enthroned afar off in the
heavens, ruling man as an earthly sovereign rules his
subjects; yes, even as an absentee landlord deals with his
tenants. And too often we see also a Church of God
with its fellowship of disciples constituting the kingdom
of heaven.
Now let us put away these false notions. Let us think
of God as a divine life within our own hearts, and let us
remember that the kingdom of heaven is the Christly
character within us. Studying our parable in this light
we shall see that it portrays certain conditions that
threaten the self-destruction of character, and supplies
the strongest possible defense against such spiritual dis
aster. Let us review the details of the story and see
how they combine to produce the desired result.
In the first place we are told that when the king had
begun to reckon with his servants, "one was brought unto
him, that owed him ten thousand talents (perhaps ten
million dollars). But forasmuch as he had not where
with to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his
wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to
be made."
What is this ? A picture of conditions under the Jew
ish dispensation, before the gospel came? No. Is it a
picture of God's attitude towards sinful men ? Not at all.
Rather is it a picture of the first effect of sin upon the
sinner under any dispensation, and also of the relation
of sin to redemption. What is the first obstacle in any
soul to the attainment of holiness? Is it not the con
sciousness of past sin,, of a debt which can never be paid?
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THE UNFORGIVING SERVANT
Jesus expresses the universal feeling when he says,
"Every one that committeth sin is the bondservant of
sin." And St. Paul puts the same idea in a different
form in the words, "I am carnal, sold under sin." The
soul that aims at high attainment is met at the very out
set of its flight by a sense of hopelessness in view of
present conditions. There is a heavy debt of sin which
"he hath not wherewith to pay," and the sense of hope
lessness paralyzes effort.
Turn now to the second scene. "The servant there
fore fell down and worshipped him, saying, Lord,
have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. And
the lord of that servant, being moved with compas
sion, released him, and forgave him the debt."
In this scene we have a truthful representation of the
spirit of God and his relation to men. He always for
gives men their sins in the moment of asking, yes, before
they ask for forgiveness. The instant a child of God,
desiring to attain to the Christlike character, becomes
conscious of a great debt of sin hampering him and
longs to be rid of the debt, the voice of divine grace
speaks the word of pardon. Why does the Bible abound
in assurances of God's readiness to forgive sin? Is it
not that the greatest obstacle to human redemption may
be removed? Men talk a great deal about the difficulty
of escaping from the penalty and guilt of sin. The theo
logians of the ages have woven a marvelous fabric
known as the doctrine of the atonement, which is simply
a monumental witness to the universal consciousness of
sin and of inability to pay the debt. But God repeatedly
declares that all past sin is forgiven even before we ask
forgiveness. The greatest of the Hebrew preachers
proclaims forgiveness, not on the ground of repentance,
but as a motive to repentance. "I have blotted out, as a
thick cloud, thy transgressions, and, as a cloud, thy
sins; return unto me; for I have redeemed thee." The
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
sense of divine forgiveness is the source of hope, and
hope is the necessary inspiration to effort.
The first two scenes in our parable, therefore, set
forth the supreme obstacle to the building of the Christly
character, in the sense of past sin, and the divine
method of removing that obstacle by the revelation of
God's forgiving love. The sense of forgiveness is the
open door to the heavenly life and character.
In the third scene we are confronted with a widely
different picture. "The same servant went out, and
found one of his fellowservants, which owed him an
hundred pence: and he laid hands on him, and took him
by the throat, saying, Pay me that thou owest. And his
fellowservant fell down at his feet, and besought him,
saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.
And he would not: but went and cast him into prison,
till he should pay the debt."
Think of it! The man who had just been forgiven a
debt of ten millions imprisons his fellow for a debt of
fifteen dollars. He is not moved to pity even when his
fellow servant pleads with him in precisely the words
he himself had used to his lord. And in the case of this
second the words were more significant than his own;
for despite his promise he could not have paid his own
debt. But the fellow servant might easily have paid the
smaller debt in a short time.
Still, that is merely incidental. The abiding impres
sion made upon us by this scene grows out of the con
trasted debts. Ten thousand talents — an hundred pence.
The ratio is more than six hundred thousand to one.
What is the thought? That our offenses against God
are literally so much greater or more manifold than the
offenses of others against us ? Perhaps not. That mat
ters little. The fact of vital significance is that in their
effect upon the development of character, in their rela
tion to our personal redemption, our offendings against
others — i. e., God and our fellow men — whether few or
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THE UNFORGIVING SERVANT
many, exert a vastly more potent influence for evil than
do the offendings of others against us.
"Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's
eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own
eye?" says our Lord in another place. What? My sins a
beam, and my brother's only a mote? Not in an abso
lute sense, but when viewed in their relation to my own
life and spiritual growth. My smallest sin will hinder my
sanctification far more than the greatest sin of my neigh
bor. A mere breath of impurity in my own soul will
drive me farther from the kingdom of heaven than a
tempest of vileness from 'my brother can do.
We reverse the glass and see things with a false
perspective. To us the offenses of others against us
seem immeasurably greater than our offenses against
them or against God. We magnify wrongs and slights
and injuries received till they seem unpardonable. But
our own failings and shortcomings and transgressions
we view with a lenient eye. We would be better for a
few lessons in divine bookkeeping. We need to study
the contrasts as drawn by our Lord — ten thousand tal
ents over against an hundred pence, a beam in contrast
with a mote. These are not exaggerations. They repre
sent literal truth.
Let us give full weight to this element of the parable.
Let its light shine out clear and bright, for only so
shall we appreciate the infinite marvel of divine forgive
ness as it stands out in contrast against our grudging
and unforgiveness. Only so shall we be able to under
stand the immeasurably greater influence of our own
sins upon our character than that of the sins of others.
Seen through the gospel object-glass our sins loom up
like mountains, while the wrongs done us by others
dwindle slowly away to nothingness.
Now take the last scene in the parable. His fellow
servants, indignant at the conduct of this man, report it
in detail to their lord; and he, after sternly denouncing
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
the ungenerous conduct of him whom he had so freely
forgiven, "delivered him to the tormentors, till he
should pay all that was due." And Jesus appends the
words of our text to the effect that this represents God's
method of dealing with men. How does it represent
God? Certainly not in a direct and immediate sense.
We cannot think of God as revoking a pardon once
granted. That were capricious and tyrannical, however
great the provocation. We instinctively recoil from such
an interpretation. What, then, is the meaning?
We may seek it along the line already suggested. As
a sense of forgiveness is necessary to inspire hope and
courage fh the struggle for character, so the spirit of
forgiveness is necessary to the attainment and continued
possession of character. The burden of unforgiven sin
may hold a soul in hopeless bondage and so paralyze all
endeavor towards noble effort; but an unforgiving spirit
will drag the soul from the loftiest height and keep it
in perpetual torment which is a foretaste of hell. Con
ceive, if you can, any more terrible punishment to be in
flicted upon a human soul either here or hereafter than
the continual cherishing of grudges against those who
have done it wrong. Such a spirit not only blights all
hope of moral and spiritual progress, but it gnaws at the
soul as a canker or burns as a flame. That the heart
should be perpetually lacerated with its own petty
grudges or stung with the venom of its own enmities,
that is the supreme penalty of wrong-doing.
And this is, if I mistake not, the precise meaning of
our Lord's application of his parable. Who would at
tain to the Christly character must be forgiving as well
as forgiven. He must be forgiving if he would not
frustrate all the purpose of being forgiven, yes, if he
would not utterly efface from his own heart the very
sense of divine forgiveness. Do not externalize God.
Do not think of him as a being remote from self, who
forgives or withholds forgiveness "according to his
148

THE UNFORGIVING SERVANT
good pleasure." The kingdom of heaven is not a city
with walls and gates to be opened or closed by the fiat
of One who is wholly apart from yourself. No,
heaven is within and God is within. As Milton has it,
"The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven."
Imagine yourself in the redeemed city of the Apoca
lypse, with all its glory of pearly gates and golden
streets. As you walk amid its glories, you suddenly
meet some one who had offended you and whom you
had not forgiven. What would happen? Why, the
rising of that old grudge would destroy all your bliss in
a moment. It would work a transformation more com
plete and startling than the fabled destruction of Kling-
sor's palace when Parsifal makes the sign of the cross
with the sacred spear.
The lesson of the parable, then, is a simple one, and
vital to our spiritual growth. Salvation is the rescue
of character. It is not a scheme for getting into heaven.
It is rather the process of getting heaven into the soul
through the conquest of self and sin. The first condition
of such conquest is the realization of forgiveness. But
there can be no abiding sense of forgiveness in a soul
that is itself unforgiving. We can only know such at
tributes and qualities of God as find a response in our
own hearts, and we come to know him more perfectly
as we ourselves grow into his likeness. The cherishing
of a grudge, the harboring of a vindictive spirit, will ut
terly obscure all sense of divine forgiveness and hold
the soul in perpetual torment.
"How oft shall my brother sin against me, and I for
give him?" Ah, Peter, do not be so anxious to discover
the limitation of forgiveness and duty! What were
your hope if God set a limit to his forgiveness? "Till
seven times?" Ah, grudging soul, cease your careful
149

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
counting! Do not hasten to be done with forgiving.
Welcome each new opportunity to forgive your brother,
and cry, "Thus, and thus, and thus, do I hope that God
may forgive me!" And with its continual exercise the
practise of forgiveness shall grow easier, the spirit of
forgiveness more natural and strong; and in the ever
clearer shining of God's love the kingdom of heaven
shall be built up in your soul till all the life is filled with
its beauty, its glory and its joy,.

ISO

Character and Salvation
Inseparable

CHAPTER XII
Character and Salvation
Inseparable
THE MARRIAGE FEAST
Matt. 22:2-14
Text. — "He ivas speechless."— Matt. 22:12
A FEAST, a marriage feast, a royal mar
riage feast. To the Oriental mind this
represents the acme of physical pleasure.
It is the crowning symbol of earthly joy.
Hence Jesus selects this as the most at
tractive and at the same time the most fitting type of the
heavenly life. "The kingdom of heaven is likened unto
a certain king, who made a marriage feast for his son."
A brief glance at the connection helps us to interpret,
the parable intelligently. This is Jhe concluding picture
of a series, the final homethrust £>£ ..a threefold .lesson.
Let us review afresh the steps which lead to it.
iSeli-appoinfed censors in the persons of certain chief
priests and elders have challenged our Lord's authority.
A ItTalgWfclwara^ro^^ 'fiavTIrgfHsed
to ansj£&T~"The simpterrtest of their claims to religlbus
leai^efshipl3i£B^HP4ft^'*to silence. Before a jiatural
and honest question they are speechless.
THeh~~tollows a "pYfa1jle*^fhe parable of The 'Sum
Saus=— which betrays them into self-conviction. A sec
ond — the parable of th^H^sJafltoffl .flM Tbe Vineyard
— drives them to seTfsentence! And now, when they
clearly understand the drift of his words, Jesus pro-
153

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
ceeds to sketch a picture of his .opponents in speechless
confusion and to expose to their quickened sensibilities
their true relation to the kingdom of heaven.
" Note thejra^of-thoj^^inwijjp^r^ble. In its first
stage it is simply a repetition cTthecorresponding part
of the preceding parable under a changed figure. It
portrays the treatment which Gj>ji!s^- messengers re-
ceived at the hands 'bf men in. former, ajjes. But, interpo
lating a^few^TOr^asT to their punishment, the emphasis
is thrown upon the result of their conduct rather than
upon the conduct itself. Advancing from this point,
the thought takes a wholly new turn. „ Up to this time
Jesu^"na*s°ldenti*fied his "hearers with the fathers along
the*""hne" of open rebellion. Now, allowing a possible
difference in the outward manifestation of their spirit,
he shows that the same fate threatens,-, as„.a, result, of
seTT^rjghteQUsness. and hypocrisy.
After declaring the punishment of those who had re
jected the origjmiHnvitation, a second, invitation is is
sued as f ree ancT as"" urgent as the first; and it is far
broader in its scope. Still, that invitation implies a de
cent politeness in donning the provided garments upon
entering the banquet-hall, just as truly as a readiness to
partake of the feast. On^J^wever^appears without a
wedding garment. True, we are "not told that garments
were furnished to all who came; but the utter speech
lessness of the man when- challenged is in itself a confes
sion that his. condition was not the result of any failure
in the provision of the host,, but of culpable neglect or
perhaps of designed insult on his own part.
Twice Jesus has made the personal application for
his hearers. No need to make it in this case. The orig
inal of the portrait is clearly before him. By this^time
the chief priests and elders know that he is speaTangof
them, andjhey have only to fill out the sketch line by line
to see in it their own portrait. Their fathers had re
jected the divine invitation; but they flatter themselves
154

THE MARRIAGE FEAST
that they have accepted it. Yes, they fancy that even now
they are in the kingdom, that they have already en
tered the royal banquet-hall and are sitting at the festal-
table. But a question has been put to them. It is the ques
tion of a few moments ago. And what was that? A
question^ about John? No. It was really a question
atrot™e'g^ 'The
^^^^^^^^W^y^u^m^^MJty'
wouiu. it wassimple and direct. Thej^aJquestion,
and the one "ffiaOave them difficulty rwaiHhls: ""How
do you venture to defy my authority, when you dare not
ho^|iy assert -youT "Own ? 'How do' you claim "a place,
ifF^y^FaffieFs1 kingdom, when you do not manifest the
sptrff and character which alone befit the kingdom? How
came you at the heavenly feast not having on the wed
ding garment of a sincere and heavenly character?"
And the self-evident inexcusableness of their position
made them speechless.
The conchjfika&«j&«ojiJjj^^ and unavoidable.
By open rebej^jfip and disohe^ence your fathers re
fused to enter mtorthe blessings of God's kingdom. And
you, although you have not joined in their overt re
jection of the joys of that kingdom, are yet in a like
position with them; for you have neglected the condi
tions by which those joys are obtained, viz., holiness* of
life and sincerity of heart ; hence that which- they scorn
fully rejected^yoTTwill lose through neglect and hypoc
risy. It is not enough formally to assent to the divine
call. It is not enough to be found among those who
render a conventional obedience to God's commands
and call themselves his children. There must be personal
righteousness, personal sincerity, personal prepara
tion of character and life. Wanting this, you will be
self-banished into outer darkness, where there is neither
joy nor blessing, but where all is misery and sorrow.
Now, putting' ourselves in the place of the chief

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
priests and elders, let us listen to this story once more
and ask what it means for us.
The finger-point is on the man without a wedding
garment. He stands out most clearly as the central
figure of this story. Other details link the present para
ble more or less closely with its fellows, but the clos
ing incident is unique and impressive. In it we shall
find the essence of its truth, the focus of its light.
And this is the truth which it illustrates: Christly
character js^ssentiaLtsJa^aiueML^o^.^
Tin other words, salvation and rhalra<*ti»r are insepara
ble. In certain quarters we often hear the phrase,
"Salvation. bj„n,ch ;tfaPtpr " It is a suggestive phrase,
but inadequate. We should rather talk of "salvation
to character"; for character itself is salvation. It is
not the means or power by which salvation is secured;
it is, rather, the end of salvation, or at least a part of that
end. To enter heaven, to mingle with the society of
the_ redejemedjnb view the joys prepared for Jhose
who love God, all this affords no real satisfaction to Jhe
soaTfflatlsJgeJf unholy, but only plunges it into deeper
miseryjand darkness. If heaven be a place, then it is
such" a place as only the heavenly-minded can enjoy.
All others are repelled by the inherent antagonism of
their unheavenly natures. It is certainly true, at least
in part, that —
"The mind Js jts ..own place, and in itself
CjuTmakTa heaven of hell7 a hell of heaven,"
although Milton, by putting those words in the mouth
of Satan, doubtless intended to brand them as false.
Nor less true are those other words attributed to the
same speaker, "My&eh^mjiejl." They express in con-
cisest form the very kernel of our parable. See how
all the incidents group themselves about this focal
thought. 156

THE MARRIAGE FEAST
This is a parable of the kingdom of heaven, i. e., a
parable of t.hp Cfrristly .fifaayapter. The gladness of the
scene is the necessary manifestation of such character.
It is Christly character that is likened to a royal mar
riage feast. It is want of the Christly character that
deprives every soul of the heavenly joy.
The picture is not in any sense twofold. Through
out it illustrates a single thought. This want of char
acter that shuts the soul out of the heavenly joy may
betray itself in different ways. Three forms of its
manifestation are depicted — levity, rebellion and neg
lect. First, we. hjp^.^MBk^uiem_aLJ,eyity- Of the guests
orig1nSry*Tnwteait^s^sauitnat some "made light" of
the invitation. The attractions of the heavenly life
were treated by them as matters of ridicule. There is
no more ^dangerous attitude of jnind than that which
makeshght "of. truth" arid "ffgh?eousnes"£"^The*' Psalmist
classe1Ttne^scomer""with the ungodlyand sinners. His
classification is a wise one. If the scorner "be not already
wicked, he is in a fair way to become so. Worse than
that, he is sure to drag others down with him. The
atmosphere of scorn is destructive not alone to the
spiritual life, but to the most ordinary moral life as
well. The normal fiber of every age has been built up by
men and nations that J^YP talaan Ijfc serinii^y. Snme-
times they have gone to the, extreme of solemnity, as
ln*TErW~tase' of the Puritans and early Quakers ; but
everybody knows that the gloomy Roundhead left a
better legacy to Great Britain than did the flippant Cava
lier. America owes a debt that can never be estimated
to the stern and uncompromising but never irreverent
settlers of New England.
On the other hand, many a community, has been
laughed into confusion and many a nation sneered into
anarchy by the mockery of a Voltaire. Every thought-
157

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
fui observer may see this process going on daily in the
world — the spirit of levity or ridicule undermining
character, and character thus debased becoming incapa
ble of heavenly fellowship or heavenly joy. Every
earnest soul must learn this lesson, viz., that there are
but two steps from levity to perdition.
Rebellion is the second form in which fatal want of
character reveals itself. "The rest took his serv
ants, and treated them shamefully, and killed them,"
says the parable. It requires no argument or even
illustration to convince our minds that open and aggres
sive wickedness is a sufficient ground for exclusion from
the heavenly kingdom and its blessings. But we do not
always realize as fully as we ought the fact that sin is
not only the reason for exclusion, but the very force
which excludes the soul from heavenly joy. We are
wont to think of the power that excludes as external
to ourselves. In a word, we imagine that it is God who
excludes, and that he may if he choose graciously admit
even sinful souls to heaven at the last.
Do not overlook the fact that the rebellious ones were
not thrust out from the feast by the king, but them
selves refuse to come to the feast. As holiness is an
attractive force, sq sin is a repulsive .forSfi^^SjoEItSlf
excluacsrthe sinner,, from- the heavenly kingdom. I say
it reverently "But earnestly, not even God himself can
save a soul in sim Only as a soul is saved from sin
can that southe brought into a participation in the bliss
of the redeemed. Rebellion against God is perdition.
Sin is hell. So long as we retain unholiness of char
acter, we are rejecting the divine invitation and making
it impossible for God to save us.
A third form in which want of the Christly character
may betray itself is neglect. Among those who re
sponded to the ^Second urgent invitation, the king found
one "who had not on a wedding-garment." The
others have held themselves wholly aloof. They have
158

THE MARRIAGE FEAST
spurned the invitation and avoided the assembled com
pany, betaking themselves to places and occupations far
removed from the scene of pleasure. But this man has
come in with the crowd. He mingles freely with them.
He seats himself at the banqueting-table. But further
than this he cannot go. His want of character dis
covers itself and he is cast out. What though he has
entered the hall? What though he has accounted him
self one of the company? He is out of place. His
nature is not in harmony with the occasion. Hence he
cannot become in any real sense a sharer in the gladness
of the hour.
At no point does the parable touch more closely upon
present life and present danger than at this. On the
one hand Christian ideals and customs or methods of
life have become so generally prevalent in a land like
ours that they are adopted by all with little thought.
We go with^the' multitude 'to the house of God.'' We
join" vntrr1frg"samtj!rwr>3lr^he^ of ^worship.
We- follow their lead in a good many things, mingling
irT^thefr -orgaitizlti6^s7"^afrohizing their reforms and
improvements, taking part in their charities and benevo
lences, falling in with the conventional manners and cus
toms of their daily life; and we easily persuade our
selves that we are as veritable saints as any of them.
Do we not enter into the banquet-hall in their company ?
Are we not seated in their midst at the festal board?
Are we not to all intents and purposes of their com
pany ? Does not the popular judgment reckon us among
them? Furthermore, we are wont to talk of salvation as
though it consisted simply in gaining admittance to a
place with pearly "'gaTesT" and shining streets called
"""ffeav erf"T or-as-though it werra mere matter of secur
ing a favorable judgment from God. In short, we look
upon it as wholly a question of fate and external
circumstance. 159

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Jesus reiterates the thought that salvation is insepa
rably linked with character; more— that salvation is
prrrnaffly the rescue of character. Until this rescue is
accomplished, salvation can have no real meaning. The
sinner may enter the company of the saints, but he
cannot know the joy of the saints. His sinful nature
makes that impossible. What advantage, then, to enter
the city of gold,' if we are out of harmony with its life?
He who does not enjoy the society of the saints and their
life here on earth, how can he be otherwise than su
premely miserable in the perfect righteousness of that
heavenly abode and in the immediate presence of God?
In the story,, the king is represented as commanding
the expulsion of the impudent guest. The parallelism
is nolr complete" at this point; for the nature of the case
does not admit of it. The result, however, is set forth
with absolute exactness. The destiny of man is not
determined by divine Omnipotence exerted in complete
independence of his own will and action. The power
of God is always and invariably manifested in working
out the results of sin according to fixed and clearly
revealed laws. The force that drives the soul from the
joys of heaven is the expulsive force of sin. The outer
darkness is sin-createdr* The Weeping and the gnashing
of teeth are the necessary accompaniments of a sinful
life. All these facts may be observed daily in our common
life. The self-banishment of men from the joy and
blessing of the heavenly life is an every-day occurrence.
In our own personal experience we have known it. We
have sought the company of the good and the true- in
the vain hope that the gladness of their goodness might
be ours. But, neglecting to array ourselves in their
purity and holiness of character, we have found our
selves unable to share in their real joy, or even to com
prehend it; and soon the repellent force of our unsanc-
tified life has hurled us forth into our native darkness
160 ,

THE MARRIAGE FEAST
and misery. He who would know the bliss of the saints
must himself be a saint.
^q»Mlily_c°!Hn£g and easy to be observed is the fact
that~lh^tea'^w1i^ the 'true "life are
_ JSrSj .Jfijage, Jo,,,whom the opportunity
is presentecT "Many are called, but few. are., chosen,"
says^TRe^blee^l^ The : invita-
>«^©iH»^'T5g*ac€*''afe"fr6m God, and are as boundless as
his everlasting love. The election to joy or woe is
of man,, and it is limited by the narrow horizon of
human desire. To put it in a sentence, the inclusive
invitation is God's ; the exclusive election is man's.
What provision had been made for the man of the
parable we do not certainly know. We can easily infer
that a wedding-garment was to be had for the taking.
But this we do know : ample provision is made for
every one who desires to attain to holiness of life. The
heavenly king not only invites us to the marriage-feast
of joy, but he offers us all that is necessary to enable
us to enter into its perfect enjoyment; he offers us the
power to overcome sin and to develop such a character
as shall fit us for the unhindered participation in the
bliss of heaven. Not for a few, but for all, is the
Christly character and the heavenly joy possible. That
is the very essence of the gospel of Jesus Christ. "As
many as received him, to them gave he the right to
become children of God." The robe awaits every one
of us — not the robe of a ficffiouT^a'imputed "fight-
eousrlls^ but 'the" r6be*6f a "true and recognized right-
eori«rre's^:*wTrie* Invitation is first an invitation to don
the robe and then to partake of the feast. Jesus Christ
was -tt-efeeliaee9HSist|r^JtC3Ee".lr lie »!sense--o£ .that ..term.
Through him fhepower of holiness, is offered, and with
hollaejs^^^flon^^, Not "salvation* -without* Tioliness, for
holiness is salvation, while unholiness is perdition.
The picture fades fronj the screen. The story dies
161

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
away into silence. But the words linger in the mind—
"He was speechless!"
Ah, we may be bold enough in challenging some arbi
trary notion of divine authority. With ready impu
dence we may question the methods of the divine gov
ernment in relation to many things. We may dispute
the teachings of Jesus and cast doubt upon his work, his
nature, his life; but when the clear light of divinest
truth is turned upon our own hearts and all other ques
tions are put out of sight and out of mind, we shall be
speechless. Hypocrisy has no. voice .with which to
answer truth. Sin, when brought face to face with
holiness, is dumb.
The sharpest pang in the sorrow of the lost is the
consciousness that his misery is self-inflicted. The
saved have not withheld from him a share of their bliss.
God has not debarred him from its enjoyment. From
saved and Saviour together have gone forth numberless
and urgent invitations. But his own levity,, rebellion,
or neglect has shut him from the heavenly feast. "The
Lord's hand is not shortened . . . neither his ear
heavy . . . but your iniquities have separated between
you and your God, and your sins have hid his face
from you," is the word of the old prophet; and in the
light of the Judgment Day the speechless tongues of
the lost will bear tacit witness to the truth of his words.
Tcfcdayjhe.. \smgdmu£Ji^mM.-£Ven to-all, . . To-day
^^^SS^J^^p^^^^ King of
T<tt^~,'TrTalIsToa glad fesfeyaj. It offers the wed-
affig-garmehf;."- NoTan "-imputed /but- an. imparted ' right?
eousness is the message of the gospel. It is your
privilege to be made free from sin and to enter upon a
life of Christlike holiness. Accepting the invitation,
putting on the spotless robe, no power in the universe
will or can hinder you from sharing the heavenly feast.

163

The Test of
Character

CHAPTER XIII
The Test of
Character
THE TEN VIRGINS
Matt. 25:1-13
Text.— "The wise took oil."— Matt 25 s4
"There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their. life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries."
THUS speaks Brutus in Shakespeare's "Julius
Caesar"; and the words, confirmed by uni
versal experience, have been graven on the
page of eternal truth. Of similar import are
the words of Voltaire, "I have noticed that
destiny in every case depends upon the act of a
moment." In every life there are certain crises. The most com
monplace and uneventful career is not without its emer
gencies. To the most far-sighted some events will come
unexpectedly. And it is the unforeseen, the critical, that
tests the life.
The most ordinary sailor can manage a vessel well
enough when the sea is smooth and the wind favorable.
It is the storm with its contrary "winds and boisterous
waves that proves the really skilful mariner or fills the
unskilled with despair. So the quiet of our human life
shows little difference between the weak and the strong,
165

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
the real and the unreal; but crises are the great re-
vealers. The unexpected event, the emergency, is the
betrayer of sham or the witness of true strength.
Jesus has been speaking of the "Second Advent." Of
all that is involved in that doctrine the world is still
ignorant for the most part. I am not sure that our
Lord ever intended it should have the prominence that
it has gained in certain quarters in the present age.
Certainly I shall not attempt to explain either the mode
or the consequences of that event or its relation to other
great events, such as the dawn of the millennium. But
one thing seems perfectly clear. The time of his return
was unknown even to Jesus himself, and whenever it
occurs, it will be wholly unexpected. In fact, this is the
use that our Lord makes of the doctrine. His "Second
Advent," as we call it, is represented by him as the
typical crisis or emergency in human life.
They are not wholly wrong who speak of death and
the coming of Christ as synonymous. As events they
are wholly distinct and almost antipodal in character.
But as crises they are closely related. If the advent of
the Christ be the supreme crisis for all, yet, for those
who pass away before that event takes place, death is
the greatest earthly emergency. Hence the two ideas
are in this sense interchangeable.
In the preceding chapter Jesus has expressed very
clearly and at considerable length this thought of the
Second Advent as the supreme emergency; and in the
light of that .chapter we must interpret the parable of
the Wise and Foolish Virgins.
The story analyzed resolves itself into, three- distinct
scenes. First, we see ten young and beautiful maidens
clad in festal attire and with blazing torch-lamps going
forth to a place of rendezvous to await the coming of a
bridal party,, that they may escort the happy pair to the
wedding-feast. There they dispose themselves to rest
till the bridegroom shall appear. 166

THE TEN VIRGINS
The second scene opens with the announcement of the
bridegroom's approach. Quickly the maidens awake and
prepare their torches for the march. Five pour fresh
oil into their lamps and are instantly ready to go forth.
The other five try in vain to relight their dry and charred
wicks, and then appeal to their friends for more oil, but
are refused and rush out into the darkness in quest of
a fresh supply, while the procession moves on to the
banquet-hall. Fjnally, we behold the foolish five in the dim shad
ows outside the door of the bridal mansion, knocking
and piteously pleading for admittance, which is denied
them. The connection would indicate a parable of the Sec
ond Advent. In other words, it is a picture of life's
crisis or emergency. What is the figure employed?
Some dire calamity? Some dreaded evil? No. It is a
marriage-feast, an event of the most joyful character.
The great emergencies or testing times of life are not
necessarily events to be dreaded. They are not in them
selves misfortunes. That depends altogether upon our
selves. Like all of God's providences, they are sent as
ministers of good, if we treat them aright. They are to
be dreaded only by the unready or consciously and wil
fully neglectful. The sudden coming of his master is not
dreaded by the faithful servant ; for it means the recog
nition and probable reward of his faithfulness. Only
he who is consciously unfaithful trembles when he hears
his master's footfall. Even so the coming of the Christ
is to the diligent and worthy disciple the gladdest of
all events even though it occur at the most unlikely
moment. The story, I repeat, is a parable of supreme emer
gency; but it is also a parable of character. The open
ing words declare it to be a picture of "the kingdom of
heaven," i. e., of Christly character. Jesus says, "The
Christly character shall be likened unto ten virgins," etc.
167

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
We have, therefore, the two thoughts of character and
crisis linked together, but how? ^
Light clearly represents conduct or outward appear
ance. That is the natural interpretation of the figure,
and it is borne out by our Lord's common usage. The
oil supply upon which the quality and permanence of
the light depends typifies the character which deter
mines conduct. In the movement of the story the cli
max is reached with the coming of the bridegroom and
the consequent discovery of unreadiness on the one hand
and readiness on the other. Is not the meaning plain?
The Crisis is the Test of Character
Until the emergency arrives there is no distinction ap
parent between the different members of this gay com
pany. As the maidens set out for the place of meeting
you see no reason to call some wise and others foolish.
They, are equally beautiful and attractive. All the
lamps burn with equal brightness. While the bride
groom tarried they all slumbered and slept. Still no
difference. At the announcement of the bridegroom's
approach all those virgins arose and trimmed their lamps.
They are equally prompt, equally eager. But now a dif
ference appears. Five of the lamps are quickly lighted.
The other five smoke and go out. Then comes the sad
exposure and confession of unreadiness.
Is not the picture true to life? Is it not all too com
mon? We may see the ten wherever we look. They
sit side by side in every church. They work at the same
tasks in shop or factory or market or household. They
mingle in the same circles in society, they engage in the
same pleasures, they participate in the same popular
works of benevolence, the same externals of religious^
worship. The outward behavior of all conforms to the
same conventional standards of Christian conduct. In
the quiet flow of ordinary life we cannot distinguish
between them in the matter of character. They exhibit
168

THE TEN VIRGINS
the common virtues and the pleasing qualities that make
them agreeable members of society. They take their
place unquestioned among the saints. We cannot say
that this one is wise and that one foolish, this one pos
sessed of the true spiritual life, that one merely follow
ing the outward fashion of that life. In fact, we are not
called upon to pass judgments thus upon our fellows.
Suddenly^ however, there comes an emergency. Some
great wave of disappointment or adversity or sorrow
sweeps over the life; or perhaps some unexpected wind
of prosperity strikes upon it ; and how different the effect
upon different individuals! In one case the sorrow or
the failure or the trial only serves to bring to view
strength and grace hitherto concealed beneath a quiet
exterior. There is grief and disappointment, very deep,
perhaps, but beneath it there runs the smooth current
of peace and trust that holds the soul in quietness. From
the trial it comes forth with new radiance and power,
made more than ever like the Master by the discipline.
of an adverse providence. Or, being lifted on a wave
of unforeseen prosperity, it suffers no loss of sweetness
and beauty, but makes the new-found joy a means of
larger kindness and help to others. In another case, the
soul is quite overwhelmed by trial or swept wholly away
by temptation. Instead of being tutored to a larger
sympathy by the experience of sorrow, there is a nar
rowing and infolding of the soul upon itself that finds
expression in peevish repining that adds to the already
sufficient misery of mankind. No less surely does the
exaltation of some sudden success in such a one turn
the seeming goodness into vanity and pride, and accu
mulated blessing only accentuates personal selfishness.
Before the unexpected test the thm gilding of outward
religion and faith disappears, exposing the weakness and
the sham beneath.
So, always, the emergency is the revealer of true char
acter; it is the test of moral strength and genuineness.
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
As some one has wisely said, "No man Jias any more
religion than he can command, in an emergency," Hap
py is he who can meet life's crises as calmly and as
gladly as he meets the common round of daily duty. He
alone is possessed of true spiritual strength,, of genuine
manly and godly character.
Do not turn with critical questioning to the conduct
of the wise virgins in refusing to share their oil with
their sisters in the moment of their dismay. What
though it seem unkind? We need not stumble at that
point. Whether kind or unkind, it is the only possible
way to represent in the action of the story the great
spiritual fact for which it stands. They might have
shared their oil ; but we cannot share our character.
Character is not transferable. No man can divide his
character with his brother. The father cannot share
with the son nor the mother with her daughter. Each
one of us must possess character for himself or be with
out it.
Even the old-time notion of sharing the character of
Christ is obsolete to-day. Some have so interpreted
the gospel plan of salvation as to make it a scheme
whereby the righteousness of Jesus Christ imputed to
the believer becomes the ground of his acceptance with
God and admittance to heavenly joy. Now imputed
righteousness is imputed nonsense, i. e., it is unright
eousness. Worse than that, it is infinite fraud. To say
that God will account you or me as righteous when we
are not because he imputes to us the righteousness of
Jesus, is to dishonor God by making him the author and
approver of the most stupendous lie ever perpetrated.
"But what," you say, "shall we do with St. Paul and his
doctrine of imputed righteousness ?" Why, interpret him
differently! If you cannot do so, then follow the apos
tle's own advice and "Let God be true, but every man
(even St. Paul if need be) a liar."
Turn now to the closing scene of the parable. Here we
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THE TEN VIRGINS
see the return of the maidens from their fruitless quest
and their vain plea for admittance to the feast. How
shall we interpret that? Shall we say that at some time
even character will not avail with men or be accepted
of God ? I think not.
Doubtless you have often pictured this scene before
your mind, and this is what has appeared, is it not?
The five foolish virgins with their lamps freshly filled
and an abundant supply of oil standing outside the
closed door in a brilliant glare of their own light, asking
admission. But is that a truthful picture? Think a mo
ment. At what hour were they awakened? Midnight.
What shops would be open at that hour? Where could
they hope to find a fresh supply of oil then? True, they
were bidden to go to them that sell and buy; but that
was only another way of refusing their request, or an
indication of the confusion of the moment. True, also,
they rush forth; but that only shows their utter distrac
tion and helplessness. After running hither and thither
for a time on their bootless errand, they gradually come
to their senses and realize the cumulative foolishness of
their conduct. Then they all come back again in the
darkness with unlighted lamps and jjrav for admittance ;
and it is because they are still unfurnished with light
that they are refused. The lamp was the real passport
to the feast. It was in the capacity of light bearers that
they had come, and while they are unable to fulfil the
purpose for which they are commissioned they have no
place in the festal gathering.
Is the interpretation difficult? Assuredly not. Worthy
character will always be recognized, approved, welcomed,
whenever and wherever it presents itself. But there may
come a time when character can no longer be developed.
There may be a midnight for the human soul, a time
when the desire for holiness shall cease or when the ca
pacity for moral attainment shall be lost. Regarding
the conditions of the future life we can only speculate;
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
but the laws which all may observe in continuous oper
ation in the present life tend rapidly to fix character
either for good or ill, for weakness or strength. Every
day that we neglect to cultivate the true life in our souls
that life becomes the more difficult to attain. Character
tends to crystallize.
Or, taking the truth in its more general application,
character is never developed in an emergency. The
great trial does not develop moral strength where before
was weakness or indifference. It only brings out the
strength that was latent and increases it by exercise.
The exigency of an exodus will not make a Moses, but
it will take a Moses already made from the obscurity of
an Arabian desert and reveal him to a waiting world.
The conflict with slavery did not make a Lincoln, but
when a Lincoln had been made in the quiet of humble
training it brought him out into the larger service and
by searching tests proved him to be the man of the hour.
The hour of death is no time in which to prepare for
death, nor can any soul be made ready for the coming
of the Christ after the tokens of that coming have ap
peared. A death-bed repentance cannot change in a mo
ment the character which has been forming through long
years of sinful life ; it cannot supply for the emergency
the spiritual attainment that has been neglected through
months of idleness and indifference. At best it can but
mark the beginning of a work that must be accomplished
in another sphere — if in that other sphere there be op
portunity for such accomplishment. The majority of
such repentances are but the cry of the foolish maidens,
"Give us of your oil; for our lamps are going out!"
Who would die the death of the righteous must live the
life of the righteous. There is no other way.
The crisis, whatever it may be, proves or reveals char
acter. It never develops or creates character. That is
always accomplished in the quiet and ordinary flow of
life. The heroism displayed on the battle-field is often
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THE TEN VIRGINS
acquired in the harvest-field. The strength that mani
fests itself in the storm is built up in the sunshine. The
peace that smiles in affliction grows in the quiet of af
fection. You cannot prepare for temptation or trial, for
adversity or prosperity, when you stand face to face
with the emergency. Then it is too late. That is the
time for action, not for preparation. Now, in the time
of quiet, is the time to grow strong. In time of peace
prepare for war. In the calm trim -your vessel for the
storm. In life make ready for death. Open your heart
to the Christ now. Receive his Spirit now. Enter his
service now. Let your daily life be the discipline which
shall make you strong and brave and true. Let your
common toil be the loom upon which you weave a noble
character, the mine from which you dig rich stores of
spiritual ' experience. Then, when some great trial or
opportunity ctomes, when you are suddenly called upon
to face some great crisis of life, you can fall back upon
the accumulated .strength of years and it will not fail. '
Nosaddex.word is found in all the teachings of Jesus
than that spoken to the foolish virgins, "The door was
shut." Opportunity 'passed; admittance denied; "I know
you not." "Of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these, 'It might have been.' "
Remember, this is not the harsh sentence of an offended
God who might, if he chose, act differently. Rather
is it a simple picture of necessary truth. The outcome
could not be otherwise without doing violence to our
common intelligence. The crisis shows what you are.
If a man is what he ought to be and may be, nothing
can be more joyful than this — to be shown as he is.
But if he be weak and false, this same is to him the
most dreadful — to be shown as he is.
Who can measure the importance of the uneventful
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
the significance of the commonplace in life? This quiet
flow of daily toil and service which we so often think of
with contempt, this even motion of ordinary drudgery
which we would so gladly escape, is the growing time
of character, the precious opportunity for gaining
strength, the exercise by which our spiritual muscles are
hardened for conflict and victory.
Your life moves on quietly and inconspicuously, and
you think that you have no call to be careful or to strive
for power. All your experience is attuned to the hum
drum. What call for great moral development? What
reward for effort? Wait. The emergency will come,
and when you least expect it; not the emergency you
look for, but one altogether unexpected. You will be
ready? Suppose it is the failure of your most cherished
plans; suppose it is the loss of the one you love best;
suppose it is some insidious temptation; will you be pre
pared to meet the test and to come off victorious ? Take
the one great, all-embracing emergency — if the Christ
should come, are you ready to meet him? If you knew
that he would come with to-morrow's dawning, would
you wish to make any change in your life by way of
preparation? Beware! Midnight is no time to be
searching the markets for oil. Fill your lamps now
while the day lasts and the markets are open. Happy
is he who so lives every day that no emergency can dis
tract him, nor any crisis betray him. Happy is he who
is ever ready for the coming of the Christ.
Life is opportunity; death is emergency; judgment
is revelation; destiny is fruition. Wisely use life's op
portunity,, and thou shalt neither dread death's emer
gency nor fear the judgment's revelation. The rather
shalt thou gladly welcome both as necessary forerunners
of a joyous and eternal fruition.

174

The Law of
Character

CHAPTER XIV
The Law of
Character THE TALENTS
Matt. 25:14-30
Text. — "Unto every one that hath shall be given. "—Matt. 25 :29
AMONG the New Testament stories few are
more familiar than the parable of The
Talents, and few are more frequently read
by the disciple or expounded by the
preacher. Perhaps, however, its last mes
sage has not yet been spoken. Perhaps it will yield
fresh thought to us even at the present moment if we
study it once more in the light of the Holy Spirit.
I venture the assertion that most of us have been wont
to interpret this as a parable of two worlds. The first
scene, we say, is laid in this world. It represents the
life that now is in its relation to human destiny, and we
have called it "Probation." Scene second we have rele
gated to the world to come, and we have summed it up
in the one word "Judgment." This mode of interpreta
tion makes the parable of The Talents a representation
of that somewhat remote and often perverted ideal of '
the divine government.
Without calling in question the correctness of this in
terpretation, I ask you to look at the picture just now
from another standpoint, not that we may discover a
different truth, but that we may study the same truth
on a different scale. You look directly at the earth and
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
you see but a small portion of its surface. From the
loftiest mountain peak and aided by the most powerful
telescope the area seen is still inconsiderable. The geo
graphical knowledge to be acquired by such a method
would be, for the average man, exceedingly limited and
incomplete. But using a globe or a map which brings
the entire surface of the earth before us in a picture
and on a reduced scale, the study of that surface is made
easy and the pupils in our common schools can tell us
much about the lands on all parts of the globe, even
though they have never traveled beyond the boundaries
of their native village. So the process of the divine
government as it extends from time to eternity, from
this world to the next, is beyond our ken; but it has its
miniature,, like the pupil's map, which we see every day,
and we may both understand this smaller representation
and from it learn much regarding the infinitely larger
truth. Noting the connection of the parable with what goes
before, we see that it is a parable of the "kingdom of
heaven," even though the words have been omitted in
the Revised Version. In other words, it is a panorama
of the development and destruction of character; and
that is not something remote or mysterious or difficult
to understand. On the contrary, it is a process that we
see daily working itself out in our midst; yes, a process
that is going on continually towards one goal or the
other in every human life. We may observe it, if we
will, at every stage of either the development or the
destruction — the beginnings, the progress, and the com
pleted result. It is not at all a question of what may
happen in another world and under other conditions,
but of what is happening in this world and under our
very eyes. The conditions and influences of eternity
are but the conditions and influences of this present
time projected upon an infinitely larger scale. The
eternal is the real world, God's world j and this temporal
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THE TALENTS
is only our little map upon which we trace out the grand
divisions and outlines of the kingdom of God.
The Law of Chafacter, i. e., of its development or de
struction, is the topic of our parable. Analyzing the
story, we discover the successive steps which result on
the one hand in ennobled manhood and on the other in
spiritual degeneracy. First in order comes the picture
of development or growth.
A wealthy proprietor, going on a long journey, dis
tributes his property among his servants, giving to one
five talents, to another two, and to another one, and de
parts. Of the first and second servants it is said that
they immediately began to trade with the money en
trusted to them and doubled it. In other words, they
did just as they would have done had their lord been
present to watch and direct them, and their faithfulness
is the first step towards success.
Character is independent of gifts. The distribution of
the talents is not equal. One receives five, another two
and another one, and so on ; each receiving "according to
his several ability." But when the reckoning comes, the
reward and commendation bestowed upon the man who
had received but two talents and had gained but two
are precisely the same as to him who had received and
gained five talents. The basis of both reward and com
mendation is faithfulness.
The analogy is perfect. With all due apologies to
John Hancock and the other framers of the Declara
tion of Independence, I venture to assert that all men are
not created equal, even though they are created free.
On the contrary, the most superficial observer cannot fail
to discern great differences in men as they are born into
the world. Some men are born with weak minds, others
with strong intellectual powers. One man is born a gen
ius, another a drudge. One has naturally fine tastes,
another is by nature coarse and unappreciative. Hered
ity is a prominent factor in human life; and heredity
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
means inequality at birth. Our parable, therefore, pre
sents an absolutely truthful picture of our common life
in this phase of it. The inequalities of gift are brought
out in a manner that is unmistakable. We cannot escape
or ignore the facts in the case.
While, however,, we acknowledge this self-evident in
equality of natural gifts in man, we are assured that the
Christly character is entirely independent of these gifts.
The real worth of any human life is determined not by
the materials with which it builds, but by the structure
which it rears with those materials. The genius is often
a man of unworthy character, while the world has seen
many a saint who had few natural gifts and, perhaps,
trifling mental power. With God capacity is always the
measure of responsibility, and faithfulness alone deter
mines merit. Or better, since we are concerned with at
tainment rather than with judgment, character grows
just in proportion as we use well or ill the opportunities
and the gifts that are entrusted to us. I know a man who
has built a noble mansion from stones which his neigh
bors willingly contributed because they thought them
worthless. Have you not also seen men building strong
characters and hewing out useful lives from gifts which
their fellow men have looked upon with contempt? One
may construct a miserable hovel out of costliest marble,
or he may create a magnificent temple from pudding-
stone. Even in material building the skill and purpose
of the architect count for more than the stuff which
offers itself to his use. Much more true is it that in
spiritual building native gifts and inborn talents are
wholly subordinate to personal faithfulness and industry,
A second element in the right development of charac
ter is confidence. Both of the faithful servants bring
their money with its gains and render a simple account
of service to their lord without comment or explanation.
Character makes no apology, it offers no excuse; for
these are not needed. The man who brings two talents
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THE TALENTS
is not called upon to explain that he has not five talents.
He makes a brief and businesslike statement: "Lord,
thou deliveredst unto me two talents : lo, I have gained
other two talents." There is in his report that same
ring of manly pride in service well and faithfully per
formed that characterized the report of the man with
five talents. Yet we do not accuse him of conceit or
vanity. It is the natural, the proper attitude.
The same quiet confidence growing out of the con
sciousness of right ought to characterize our religious
life. Jesus did not hesitate to declare his own right
eousness and to call upon others to follow his example.
When St. Paul is leaving Ephesus, as he bids farewell
to the brethren, he does not apologize for any imperfec
tions in his life or failure in his service. On the con
trary, he calls them to witness how holily and up
rightly he has lived among them, and how he has not
failed to preach to them the whole gospel of Christ.
More than this, he even challenges certain disciples, to
whom he writes, with the words, "Be ye imitators of me,
even as I also am of Christ.''
From such a manly assertion of integrity it is a far cry
to the modern "profession of holiness," which finds no
warrant in the Scriptures. The one is consistent with
the profoundest humility; the other is the sign manual
of spiritual pride. The one is the frank challenge of
criticism ; the other a presumptuous claim that repudiates
the right of criticism.
True character stands unabashed and confident before
the scrutiny of the world and makes no excuses. It is
like Jacob confronting Laban with a challenge to point
to any dishonesty in his dealings, or like the Hebrew
youths before the king of Babylon, or like Peter arid
John before the Jewish Sanhedrin, virile not vain, cour
ageous not conceited,, strong and impregnable in the con
sciousness of duty well done, of opportunity used to the
full. 181

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
But the climax is yet to come. Character not only in
spires courage, it gives power also. To the faithful man
comes first confidence, then sovereignty. Whether wit.i
two talents or with five, he hears the words, "Well done,
good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over
a few things, I will set thee over many things ; enter thou
into the joy of thy lord." This is what always happens
to the faithful in any sphere. Character working through
service transforms the servant into a sovereign. In our
daily life the growth of character always involves the ac
quirement of dominion. Man begins life as a servant.
As he develops the Christly character he gradually ob
tains the mastery — the mastery over self, the mastery
over sin, the mastery over appetite and passion and in
dulgence, the mastery over difficulty and trial and pain
and sorrow. And we cannot yet say how far this mas
tery may be carried in its dominion over the forces and
phenomena of the universe in which we live.
We share the dominion and the joy of the Christ as we
grow in likeness to his perfect character; and this dom
inating power of character is a principal element in the
reward of faithful and holy living. This is the glory of
the kingdom of God, that authority and honor come not
from great opportunities and exceptional gifts which are
the accidents of humanity, but from faithfulness in the
use of even the smallest privileges.
Faithfulness, confidence, sovereignty, these three are
the invariable tokens of the true development of Christly
character. Without the first there can be neither great
ness nor goodness. Without it neither genius nor culture
can insure a noble life. With it the humblest materials
may be transformed into the attributes of perfect saint
hood. The faithful man may ever stand "without fear,
and without reproach" before God and men; and his
life will not be without abiding influence in the world.
His character will become a dominating force that shall
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THE TALENTS
govern many and shall bring many into the kingdom of
heaven. If now we have rightly interpreted the message of the
faithful servants in the development of character, let us
turn to the man with one talent and listen to his message
regarding moral and spiritual decay.
The first step towards moral ruin is neglect. "I went
away and hid thy talent in the earth." Here is no ef
fort at use or gain. It matters not that the neglect or
indifference was the result of fear or a misconception of
his lord's character. The vital thought is that there was
no attempt to prepare for the demand which was sure
to be made upon him. True, he had but one talent; but
had he been entrusted with ten talents the result would
have been proportionately worse, since a greater sum
would have been allowed to lie in idleness.
Neglect is the beginning of all worthlessness. Men
may complain as they please about the poverty of their
gifts, lack of opportunity, the unreasonableness and se
verity, of God's requirements ; none of these things can
hinder the attainment of noblest character or the achieve
ment of most perfect service if there be an earnest pur
pose and a spirit of true service on the part of the in
dividual. Unlettered fishermen became the first apostles
and preachers of the gospel, while learned Pharisees
like Nicodemus and wealthy courtiers like Joseph of
Arimathsea must content themselves with the service of
undertakers. Phillips Brooks says, "There are in all our cities a great
multitude of useless men, and of men perfectly contented
in their uselessness. Many a man looks back upon his
life and, save for the kindly offices which he has ren
dered to his immediate associates, he cannot remember
one useful thing he ever did. He never stood up for a
good cause. He never remonstrated against an evil. He
never helped a bad man to be better. A merely useless
man! His life might drop out of the host to-morrow,
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
and none would miss a soldier from the ranks. No on
set or defense would be the weaker for his going. . . .
It is a child of God being slowly made into a man of the
world." And the primary force which works out this
result is neglect, mere neglect.
What follows neglect? Apology! "He also that had
received the one talent came and said, Lord, I knew thee
that thou art a hard man — " .Stop right there ! No need
to read any further. I'll warrant his lord knew what was
coming when he began in this way. Who begins his
account with an apology confesses failure and wrong at
the outset. The making of an excuse is an infallible token
of lapse of character.
We do well to remember this in our religious life and
worship. There is altogether too much of excuse and
apology in the religion of the present day. Listen to the
preaching from our pulpits. Hearken to the testimonies
and the prayers in our social meetings. Yes, go into the
meetings of our various Young People's Societies and
mark all that is said about failure or difficulty in keeping
the pledge; for even our young people have caught the
disease. We frequently credit this manner of speech to
humility. It is not humility ; it is either humbug or un
faithfulness. Whichever it is, there is altogether too
much of it for our spiritual health and progress. A
prominent thinker of our time has described the
mood of many modern Christians as being like that of
"the man in Sterne's 'Sentimental Journey' whom a mule
was about to kick— the attitude of humble apology."
The average confession in public prayer, I say, is either
a token of unfaithful living or it is the expression of con
scious untruthfulness ; and it were difficult to say which
is worse. It is high time that men should cease to talk
of God as a hard Master, or religious duty and spiritual
attainment as impossible, of the burdens and crosses of
the Christian life, and should begin to assume a more
manly attitude. Blessed is the man who never makes
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THE TALENTS
an excuse! for,, although men may call him conceited,
verily he is not far from the kingdom of heaven. Adam
never apologized for his appearance till he committed
his first sin ; and from the Creation until now conscious
sin and culpable failure have been the fruitful sources
of all apology. Excuses have no place in the true life.
The progress of moral decay is swift and sure. First,
neglect, then excuse or apology, and then spiritual loss.
"Take therefore the talent from him," is the sentence
pronounced by the angry master upon the unfaithful ser
vant. Who fails to use his gift or his opportunity will
lose it. If the worst result of unfaithfulness were the
shame of confession, if the progress of evil ended with
apology or even with some arbitrary punishment discon
nected with the sin, that were bad enough. But when
to the shame and confusion of the unfaithful one is
added loss of power to develop character, that is un
speakably worse.
And that is the certain result of faithlessness. Look
where you will you may see the law at work with terrible
regularity. A muscle is unused.' What of it ? Merely that
no valuable work is accomplished ? No ; far worse than
that. The muscle itself perishes. The skilful musician
neglects his art. Day after day passes and he leaves his
instrument untouched. Friends wait in vain for the
sweet tones that have so often delighted their ears. The
symphonies are not rendered, the oratorios are silent.
The weeks are impoverished; but that is a trifle. The
worst is yet to come. At length he seeks the organ
once more and runs his fingers over the keys. Alas!
where is his old-time skill? The hands have forgotten
their cunning. The joints are stiff and awkward. The
artist has degenerated into a bungler.
No less sure is the operation of law in the higher realm.
Moral power unused decreases. Spiritual gifts held in
idleness invariably deteriorate. Character is paralyzed
by inactivity. Not only do we wrong our Maker and
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
our fellow men when we fail to exert a true and help
ful influence in the world, but we ruin ourselves by de
stroying our moral power. We hear a great deal and
we say a great deal about the sin and the danger of
wrong-doing; and we often forget that there is another
sin equally heinous, another danger equally grave, the
sin and the danger of doing nothing at all. And this is
its penalty, "He that sinneth . . . wrongeth his own
soul !"
If now we have rightly interpreted our parable, it
presents to us on the one hand a picture of spiritual de
velopment through faithfulness to confidence and sover
eignty, and on the other hand the progress of moral de
generation through neglect to apology and utter loss.
These two pictures are blended into one and formulated
into a general law in the words, "Unto every one that
hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but
from him that hath not, even that which he hath shall
be taken away." Moral power employed crystallizes into
character; neglected, it evaporates.
As we observe the working of this law in the world
about us, do we not sometimes feel that it is the em
bodiment of injustice and wrong? For example, a young
man enters professional life. After a long period of
study and preparation, in which he has expended all his
means and perhaps accumulated a load of debt, he rents
an office and puts out a sign. He may be a lawyer or
a physician. Day after day he waits eagerly for clients
or patients. As he waits, he sees a throng continually
passing his door to go to the office of some older and
more wealthy attorney who already has more business
than he can attend to, or to some physician who is worn
out with an overwhelming practise and wishes for
nothing more than an opportunity to rest. While these
wealthy ones are receiving more and more every day,
he thinks of his unpaid board bill and office rent, and
wonders if he will ever be able to settle them. Can you
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THE TALENTS
wonder if he mutters under his breath, "Ah, yes, that is
always the way. Unto him that hath shall be given and
he shall have abundance, but from him that hath not shall
be taken away even that which he hath"? Sometimes
the young man almost despairs and feels that the affairs
of this world are controlled by a very unjust and partial
Providence. But is it so? Is not the very difficulty of
securing the beginnings of success the strongest pos
sible incentive to high endeavor? Does not the disci
pline of waiting and discouragement call forth the very
best qualities of our manhood and womanhood? To re
verse the order were to put a premium on callow and
imperfect service; it were to remove the only solid and
permanent foundation of character.
No, this universal law of growth through service, this
eternal truth that nothing succeeds like success, is neither
unjust nor hard. If we look at it aright, we shall see in
it the expression of the necessary and beneficent law of
character. That law is not an arbitrary enactment of
an external and omnipotent ruler ; it is the natural work
ing out of a moral principle within ourselves; it. is the
inevitable expression of our own spiritual life as we
direct it toward the good or the evil. To the weak and
the unworthy such a law must .ever be an object of
terror and disheartenment ; but to the strong, the earnest,
the faithful soul, it is a continual inspiration and a sure
promise of ultimate triumph.

187

Christly Character the
Kingdom of God

CHAPTER XV
Christly Character the
Kingdom of God
THE POUNDS
Luke 19:11-27
Text. — "They supposed that the kingdom of God nvas immediately to
appear. ' ' — Luke 19:11
HERE is an error old as the gospel, new as the
morning, and persistent as the power of
evil. In outward form it varies with the
passing years; in essence it remains ever
the same. Men think and speak of the
kingdom of God as an immediate creation of the
Almighty, wholly external to themselves and inde
pendent of the laws and relations of life as they know
it. They picture to their minds a new order of society
into which we may enter or from which we may be ex
cluded according to the good pleasure of the King.
Those first followers of Jesus looked for the establish
ment of that kingdom upon this earth from material
elejnjnts. It would simply be a new and greater Roman
empire, conquering all others and being established on
a permanent and invincible basis. Only in greatness
and power would it differ from the kingdoms already ex
isting. We of to-dayjhave put aside that notion as crude
and materialistic. But what have we accepted in its place ?
A future kingdom, instead of a. present one. We defer
the establishment of the kingdom of heaven to a future
state, and flatter ourselves that our conception is spiritual.
191

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Practically, however, the two conceptions are identical.
According to both the kingdom is external, it is_Jargely
a matter of location and circumstance, and the question
of citizenship rests with a Power outside ourselves; is,
in short, a matter of favor or grace. How many per
sons still talk of "salvation" as though it meant get
ting into heaven! Again and again we hear them say
that they will "take their chances," evidently supposing
that their relation to the heavenly kingdom will be
determined by the King on conditions more or less ar
bitrary and uncertain. In all cases it is the same error,
viz., the expectation that the kingdorq of Hnd w'M "/>¦
pcar\_e_^\\^f it will assi!™? snrnf pvrprnal fnrm and
wiliconsist of institutions and orders and classes of
society to be entered from without.
To this persistent error we have a permanent answer
in the parable of The Pounds. And this parable comes
to us to-day with all the directness and significance that
characterized its original utterance.
At the basis of the parable lies a historic incident. On
the death of Herod the Great his son Archelaus went
to Rome to secure the appointment as successor to his
kingdom. At the same time there went from Judea an
embassy of citizens to oppose the appointment. The
principal result of their effort was to increase the cruelty
which they sought to avert. This incident was of course
familiar to our Lord's hearers, and would give added
significance to the lesson which he drew from it. Fur
thermore, this historic framework marks the unquestion
able individuality of the parable and clearly distinguishes
it from all others.
In not a few minds the parable of The Pounds has
been confused with" that of The Talent's, and thpy hayp
Beenlooked upon as two forms of one story. The
quj^stjonJias heeri_raised by-expositors, Did Jesus real
ly utter two parables so similar jn fprr"? Or havp wp
two diverie_reports of onestory? .Scholarly criticism
192

THE  POUNDS
has asked the question, but the profoundest scholarship
caa— nearer answer it, — -The— -unanimous., agreement of
scholars would prove nothing on either side. And what
need? As they come to ns the, parables are certainly
not one but two, revealing distinct features, embodying
distinct messages. The two messages are equally true,
equally diyjne^_JA£IcaunQluaMifu:se them without loss.
We cannot spare eirhpr one.
"Despite ageneral similarity the two parables present
several points of sharp and significant contrast; and a
careful study serves' to emphasize the points ot contrast
rather than those of similarity. While the parable of
The Pounds is palpably suggestive of the hijtojac-mci-
dent already referred to, there is no hint of such his
toric basis in the parable of The Talents. The limited
parallelism of the two stories serves to bring out as
nothing else could certain contrasted truths regarding
human life.
In the parable of The Talents we have set forth in
equality of gjft° w;+h eqr^litv of service. In that oi
The Pounds this condition is reversed, and we have equal
ity oTgp^w;tK~1"prr^ty "f service., Thp story nf Thp
Talentsoffers a simple contrast between faithfulness and
unfaithfulness. The, story of Thp Pounds embodies a
more complex idea. Its fourfold distinction suggests
numberless .gradations between perfect Inyalty and open
hnsfjlify "Mnrftpypr, the r>ne parable ends with__a_gen-
efal statement, of reward and penalty, while the other
shows~the exacjLproportion hp.twee.fi set-vine and rpward
And finally, the parable of The Pounds contains an ele
ment not found at all in the parable of The Talents, i. e.,
.the distinction between servants and citizens.
If we have clearly distinguished in our minds the in
dividuality of the two parables, let us analyze the picture
before us.
The story opens with an equal distribution of money
to the servants of the king, one pound to each, as he
193

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
is about to depart on a mission of importance. The
group of unfriendly citizens who send a committee to
oppose his petition is added to complete the picture and
to round out its lesson.
The parable of The Talents^ by its unequal distribution
of money, "to one five talents, to another two, and to an
other one," represents the inequalities of gift and environ
ment and heredity which characterize different individ
uals as they come into the world. The fact of such
inequality no one can question. Its significance we have
already considered in the study of the other parable.
The parable of The Pounds, on the other hand, calls at
tention to the truth that, while there is a real and impor
tant difference in men, there is a sense in which all are
absolutely equal. All cannot accomplish an equal work
in the world, but each one has an equal chance with all
his fellows to do his best, to make the most of that which
he has.
"The robin cannot by most strenuous effort become
an eagle, but he can be a perfect robin. A Kitto, reared
in analmshouse, cannot^vie with the university gradu-
aTe~ihTearning ahcljgrace, but he can hew out from such
materials as he has a saintly character and can leave a
work that shall bless his fellow men. A bootblack and
an artist differ widely in gifts and environment, hut it
is the equaTrjnynegXoJLe^
ThTHnnfertuonsjjfjl^^ ingThjTveryjDj^
talents and beautilnriurr^^
him for any failure to produce the best work of which
he is capable. In this they are equal. "She hath done
what she could" is the record of perfect achievement,
and it is a record equally possible for all.
Then why should any man stand idly about complain
ing, "IJiave no chance in the .world.'-'? _ Man,-you_have
a chance to_do_your best! Ng_manJias-more Tp this
you~afe : jhejpeeFjfjhe rrnjlJonaTre, though you-haveHbut
194

THE  POUNDS
two mites, the peer of the scholar, though you cannot
read, the peer of the genius, though you may be a plod
der all your days. Shakespeare, Michael Angelo, Emer
son, Washington, did no more, could do no more. Nay,
with reverence be it said, Jesus 'Christ himself ronld
jfojio more. — Yon have looked at life Icing— enough_ex-
clusivetythrough the parable of The Talents. Its picture
oflnequality"has blinded you to the larger truth. Change
your -kW andioak~lora time through the parable of JThe
Pounds'^ Note the eqUalitiesTYou have only one pound ?
~No~nrerre~had otheTs. The partition was exactly equal.
The chance to make the'most_ot vourselL-lhat is what
is a^inon_to alt The best with what—you have, that
is the divine requirement for all alike. Whodoes that
is perfect. Who fails to do that, though he~may make
a great show of achievement, cannot secure the approval
of his conscience or his God. Let us emphasize this
truth. Only a shallow and superficial judgment meas
ures worth by achievement alone. Faithfulness, de
sire, purpose, these are the units of measurement that
God uses.
Starting from this point, we are next confronted by
the fact that the possible spiritual attitudes or relations
to God are not two but four ; or, to be more exact, there
are four attitudes portrayed in such a manner as to
• suggest many. In a word, spiritual gradations are
numberless. The four attitudes represented in our para
ble are these: (a) perfect fidelity, (b) easy mediocrity,
(c) fatal inactivity, (d) open hostility.
When the king returns from his journey the servants
of his household are called to account, and three typical
cases are recorded.
First comes one and proudly renders his account; —
"Lord, thy pound hath gained ten pounds." By com
mon consent this man represents perfect faithfulness..
He has used his opportunities to the full. He has been
diligent, careful, wise and faithful. The master rec-
195

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
ognizes his faithfulness and responds with hearty words
of approval. "Well, thou good servant: because thou
hast been faithful in a very little, have thou authority
over ten cities."
How pleasing to the servant must have been this dec
laration of his lord's approval! Yet it was only what
the man's own conscience had already uttered. He
knew that he had been faithful. He knew that he had
made the most possible with his pound. And that is
the privilege of every one of us, to know when we are
faithful. Our faithfulness may not always win the rec
ognition and approval of men; but that need not trou
ble us. There is no uncertainty, no inscrutability in the
judgments of God. They are always in perfect har
mony with the real declaration of conscience. Who
would know God's thoughts regarding his life and con
duct has only to be honest with himself. If you want it
in Bible phrase, here it is. "Beloved, if our heart con
demn us not, then have we confidence toward God."
Now comes the second servant. His statement is,
"Lord, thy pound hath gained five pounds." Now do not
make the mistake of identifying this man with the two
talent man of the other parable. They are not moral equiv
alents. Rather do they embody a vital point of difference
between the parables that is often overlooked. The
achievement of the man with two talents was equally
praiseworthy with that of the man with ten talents; for
each had gained a hundred per cent on his trust. But
in the parable we are now studying, the first man had
gained one thousand per cent, while the second had gained
but five hundred. The gain in both cases is large,
and readily wins popular applause. Nevertheless, the
gain of this second man, large as it when considered
by itself, does not represent complete faithfulness. It
was possible to realize a thousand per cent and he has
earned but five hundred per cent. The first, therefore,
196

THE  POUNDS
represents the limit of possibility through untiring ser
vice; the second, easy-going mediocrity.
As this man makes his statement, you notice the ab
sence of approving words which had greeted the report
of his fellow. It is not, "Well, thou good servant"; but
simply, "Be thou also over five cities." In this case also
the words of the king are but an eoho of the declaration
of the man's own conscience. He knew as well as his
master that he had not been as devoted and industrious
as his fellow servant. He had taken more time for his
own pleasure, had not worked so hard nor so long, had
required more frequent holidays and shorter hours of
labor. His reward of five cities is exactly proportioned
to his achievement; and he enters upon his new term of
service with a good degree of outward honor, but with
out that inspiration and joy that come from the con
sciousness of absolute faithfulness.
This part of the story emphasizes a very significant
point of difference between human judgment and the
divine, between the popular estimate of service and the
true estimate of conscience. We ask, What has a man
done? And if he has gained five hundred or a thousand
per cent on his original investment of education or talent
or money, we praise him unstintedly. But God asks, not,
What has he gained? but, How faithful has he been?
Has he gained all that he might have gained? Has he
used his gifts to the utmost? Not accumulation but
activity, not display but devotion, is the divine measure
of merit.
But here comes the third man. His report is prac
tically identical with that of the third man in the para
ble of The Talents. "Lord, behold, here is thy pound,
which I have kept laid up in a napkin." Then follows
the excuse, "I knew thee that thou art an hard man," etc.
Why an excuse at all? The master has not spoken a
word of blame. He has not questioned the servant's
faithfulness. But conscience has been speaking all
197

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
along. In this man's heart has been sounding the words
that the king is about to utter, "Thou wicked servant!"
Again and again he has felt the call of duty, "Thou
oughtest to have put my money into the bank that it
might have been accumulating interest." The servant
knew what he ought to do ; but he deliberately ohose idle
ness with the disapproval of conscience. The inevitable
result follows — the loss of his pound. His master had
only required of him what his conscience told him he
could fulfil. He neglected what he himself recognized
as his simple duty, and now the power to do is taken
from him.
Again it is the universal law; you must use or lose.
The worst feature of both condemnation and judgment
lies in the fact that they are in perfect accord with the
declarations of conscience. Every man whom God con
demns is first self-condemned. The divine judgment is
invariably preceded by a human excuse.
A fourth class of persons appears in this parable that
is not found in the parable of The Talents. This class
is represented by citizens hostile to the king, who oppose
his elevation to the throne and are put to death upon his
return. The act of the king is that of a vindictive
tyrant. In that it does not truthfully represent the
character of God nor the spirit of his dealings with
men; nevertheless this part of the story serves to illus
trate a great truth. Resistance to divine law always
means disaster or destruction. You cannot defy a law
of nature without inviting physical destruction. Equal
ly true is it that spiritual disaster follows surely upon any
neglect or defiance of God's spiritual laws. A man casts
himself from some lofty eminence, defying the law of
gravitation, and he is dashed to pieces as he strikes the
rocks below. No less sure is the moral destruction of a
Burr or an Arnold who hurls himself from the pin
nacle of honor in defiance of the laws of righteousness.
To bring out this truth is not, however, the primary
198

THE  POUNDS V
reason for the introduction of the hostile citizens. Its
more immediate purpose is to complete the outline of
possible attitudes towards God, and to make more clear
the precise position of the three servants. In the con
trast between citizens and servants we have a suggested,
distinction between disciples and those who do not ac
knowledge any allegiance to Christ. The three servants
stand for three classes of Christians, three distinct planes
of spiritual living.
All Christians are not alike. There are Christians
and Christians. One Christian differs from another
Christian not alone in glory but also in character and
blessing. Salvation is a great thing or a little thing ac
cording to our attitude toward it. As the gpspel mttica
to us from Christ it is absolutely the.Tsame!j^ZaIL-^All
Havellne same promises, ..the same privileges. . The new
bff3E3S3^ptism of the .Spirit, and all the progressive
experjejicgS. of jhe" Christian life are offered in-exactly
equajaojafiaaure,. to. each individual disciple; but the act-
uaTxSelations..Qf joy and peace and spiritual pawer„xary
indefinitely. Whence comes this difference ? Why do we see one
Christian*developing a saintly character, living a happy
Christian life, entering into the higher experiences of
discipleship, and winning many souls for the Master ;
while his neighbor makes little or no progress, finds no
delight but only hardship in his service, reaps little fruit
from his labor? "It is solely a question pi ..faithfulness.
Here is a man whose pound has gained ten pounds.
He is busy and hard at work , but he is happy, in the
midst of his toil and sacrifice because he has the con
tinual approval of conscience. He knows that he is
perfectly faithful ; he cannot help knowing it. There are
others who make considerable progress and are fairly
busy in the kingdom, yes, who manifest a growing saint
hood and not a little achievement; yet they fail of com-
199

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
piete satisfaction because they have not the witness of
conscience that they are doing their full duty.
Yet others there are who have enlisted in the service of
the King. They are known to the world as Christians.
They are members qf the Church. They cherish a- fond
hope of salvation. But they are making no use what
ever of .the gifts and promises of God. The riches of
the gosp eL they allow to. remain shut up. within the covers
of a book which is to them so sacred that they rareh
open it. All their time, their energy, their thought, their
ambition, are devoted to themselves. . To them God ap
pears as, a. hard .Master requiring the impossible of men,
arid demanding the sacrifice of the best things now in re
turn for doubtful blessings hereafter. They are full of
apologies and excuses. You never meet them but they
have a word of explanation to offer for some failure in
service or duty. What wonder if they soon lose the
hope that they cherished at the first? What wpndexjf
they continually sing. —
"Where is the blessedness I knew
Wheir^rstT!~saw""fhe 'Lord ?"
What wonder if they have much to say about "crosses,"
and little about new experiences? "*""
So this parable of The Pounds, though not directly
introduced as a parable of the kingdom of heaven,
proves to be really in that class. It is a picture of charac
ter building; and this is what it tells us: Character is
not simply good or bad, Christly or unchristly. There are
infinite gradations of Christliness. There is character
that results from making the most of one's oppor
tunities, the character that affords the supreme satis
faction of an approving conscience; and there is charac
ter that is in a greater or less degree Christlike and yet
does not fill up the measure of its possibilities. More
than this, there is a form of Christianity that contents
200

THE  POUNDS
itself with declaring itself on the side of Christ and then
leaves all the commands and promises and possibilities
of the Christian life sealed up within the covers of the
Bible — a Christianity that will lose itself at the last.
It is not enough, then, for any man to ask and to
answer the question, Am I among the servants or the
enemies of the King? You may be a servant, a Chris
tian in some real sense, and~yeT' faTT to "enjoy all that
it-iyyouf^pifivilege to enjoy. There are those who are
saved,""ws6 as by fire." Or you may be perfectly faith
ful, having daily the witness of a good conscience, and
"sir an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly
into the- everlasting kingdom of bur Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ."
The kingdom of God will never ''appear" to any man,
either immediately or remotely. It is a spiritual con
dition of the soul within, not an institution either ma
terial or spiritual to be entered from without.,. Each
one must realize the kingdom in his own soul through™ the
use of whatever opportunities come to. his hand ;„ and
"the-glory and' gladness of that realization will be" in ex
act proportion to the faithfulness in service. The es
sence of the kingdom is character, the perfection Of the
kingdom, the fulness of the stature of Christ ; the re
wards of the kingdom, dominion and ever increasing
power for service.

201

The Patchwork

CHAPTER XVI.
The Patchwork
THE NEW CLOTH IN THE OLD GARMENT
Matt. 9:16; Mark 2:21; Luke 5:36
Text. — "No man rendeth a piece from a neixi garment and putteth it
upon an old garment.'" — Luke 5:36
AMENDED coat is not the true symbol of a
Christian character. That is a new and
perfect garment. The religion of the gos
pel is not a patch put upon the old life to
cover or conceal its defects. It is a new
life wrought out of new materials, and woven in a
fashion wholly new. It is a seamless robe without spot
or defect of any kind. Its motives and principles, its
forms and expressions, are fresh and unique. They are
not borrowed from other sources; they are not copied
from other teachers. The acceptance of the Christ life
involves the rejection of the old life with all its traditions
and ideals. Any attempt to wed the old and the new,
any scheme of compromise between them, can only re
sult in the stultification of both. This, in brief, is the
truth that Jesus would teach us in The Parable of the
Patchwork. A question of the scribes has revealed one of many
false notions regarding our Lord's mission. "Why do
the disciples of John fast often, . . . and likewise
the disciples of the Pharisees; but thine eat and
drink?" they ask; for as yet they suppose his teachings
to be only an amended Judaism, a sort of appendix de-
205

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
signed to supplement and correct the errors of their own
teaching. At most it is but a new and revised edition of
the preachings of John the Baptist. Jesus therefore
plainly declares to them that he has not come to patch up
old failures and to mend old and worn-out systems. Not
even to improve and make perfect that which is fairly
good in itself, is his purpose ; but to make all things new.
The unique character of the Christian life, its abso
lute newness and independence of all other religious
ideals, that is the thought Jesus would emphasize. And
he has put it in a form at once unmistakable and sug
gestive. He had taught the same truth by implication many
times before. Again and again he had avoided the old
issues and endeavored to show his hearers that the new
alone was vital. To Nicodemus, eager to discuss the
credentials of Messiahship, he propounds the doctrine of
the New Birth. To the woman of Samaria, mulling
over the threadbare question of the proper place
for worship, he declares that place is nothing but spirit
is everything. To the bigoted religionists, pottering over
questions of divine prerogative, he flings out the chal
lenge of divine power, and eclipses the accusation of
blasphemy by a manifestation of blessing.
Now he teaches them directly and in terms that are
unequivocal. The old religion had its fixed terms for
fasting and the like. They suppose that the new will
be even more rigorous, continuing the austerities of the
old and adding to them. For to their minds religion is
essentially a matter of outward forms, a question of do
ing and abstaining. Jesus declares that whatever may
be the forms and exercises of the new religion, they will
not be in any sense a continuance of the old. Will his
disciples fast? Doubtless they will. That seems to be
taken for granted in his great Sermon on the Mount
But their fasting will be essentially different from that of
the Pharisees. It will not be a relic of Jewish cere-
206

THE NEW CLOTH in the OLD GARMENT
monialism or of the asceticism of John. These at their
best were more or less mechanical. They were exer
cises or privations undertaken as in some way meritori
ous, and constituting an end in themselves. If there be
fasting among his disciples, it will be the spontaneous ex
hibition of the new life, and so will reveal a new meaning.
It will not be a premeditated act of penance or purga
tion. Rather will it come through the natural preoccu
pation of an eager soul intent upon some noble purpose
that for the time eclipses physical needs. The new doc
trine is not to be grafted upon the old stock ; its forms of
expression, though similar to those already in vogue, are
never identical with them. Every word is charged with
new meaning. Every custom and method is made a
channel of fresh power.
The question of the scribes and of John's disciples is
a perennial question and calls for a perennial answer.
The ground of questioning may shift, has shifted indefi
nitely. It may swing all the way around the circle from
asceticism to self-indulgence, but it is the same old ques
tion still, and it is not at all a question of mere feasting or
fasting, but of conformity. Very often, as originally, it
is a question of conformity to the accepted religious ideals
and standards of the past. Why do not the disciples, of
to-day &mk and act jmd .live, precisely as^did. the .digci-
pjgs of liBe" lasFgeneration or of the Preceding century ?
In contrast with this, yet inspired by .the same spirit; is
the_auestion oT conformity to. the standards of the un- .
christian world. Why does not the Christian conform his
life exactly to the life of men about him excepting only
in matters of religious, duty ?
If "a disciple to-day ventures to seek a new and higher
religious experience, if he refuses to conform his action
and aims to the popular religious ideals of the unchris
tian world, or if he rejects as worn out the spiritual
standards of the past generation, the creeds and forms
of the fathers, it causes no less surprise than did a simi-
207

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
lar course of action in our Lord's time. Witness the in
finite pains that men, even good and earnest Christian
men, have taken to anchor the life and thought of the
Christian Church to certain fixed expressions of belief
and forms of service. Witness, too, the insistence with
which unspiritual disciples applaud the conventional and
denounce the unusual in religious activity or worship, so
making true the saying of Lowell, "In prosperous times
the faith of one generation becomes the formality of the
next." "The dead hand" has ever been and still contin
ues to be a serious hindrance to the spiritual progress
of the Christian Church. It is the petrified incarnation
of the old question of the Pharisees. The world has not
yet begun to realize with any adequate degree of clear
ness the fact that Christianity is a living religion, essen
tially new in every age and in every soul, and that ii
must continually find for itself new methods and chan
nels of expression or it will perish.
This questioning and surprise, this inability to com
prehend the rejection of the old and the revelation of
the new, springs from what we may fitly call the "Patch
work Theory" of Christianity. It grows out of the no
tion that the Christian life is simply a scheme for mend
ing a broken law, for patching rents in human charac
ter, for making up by extra goodness or merit in one
sphere the deficiencies of all other parts of life. It is
the natural fruit of the idea that religion is a compro
mise with evil instead of the conquest of evil.
And this patchwork theory has always found a place
in the thinking of religious men. It is one of the per
sistent theories of religion, cropping out in every age and
land and constantly getting itself mistaken for divine
revelation. Again and again it has appeared in the his
tory of Christianity, and always with the same results.
You know the story of the first great compromise of
Christianity with the power and spirit of the world.
Eager to hasten the redemption of the empire, the
208

THE NEW CLOTH in the OLD GARMENT
Church of Jesus Christ entered into an entangling alli
ance with the national life of Rome, became the state re
ligion, accepted the protection of the civil power, per
mitted itself to become a mere limited and partial addi
tion of new life and thought upon the worn and tat
tered surface of the old heathenism. You know, too, the
effect of this compromise. The last state of the Roman
empire was worse than the first. The old heathenism
scarcely felt the influence of the new religion, while
Christianity was rapidly paganized by the customs and
principles to which she was forced to give way. Soon
the worst cruelties of a pagan Nero were outdone by
the barbarities that were perpetrated in the name of
Christ, and the shrunken patch of the new religion made
unspeakably greater and more ghastly the rents in the
old heathenism.
You are familiar also with the story of the bald and
blasphemous proclamation of this theory in the days of
Martin Luther, when every priest became a peddler of
"indulgences," which simply means that he offered for
sale at fixed prices patches of ecclesiastical grace of sizes
adapted to cover all manner of moral defects and spiri
tual rents in the human life. Is it strange that under
such a system the spirituality of the Church became
shrunken, that the moral life of the people sank rapidly
to the lowest level, and that the very ministers of relig
ion were leaders in vice and crime, until at length the
riddled garment of Romanism was rent in twain by the
spirit of the great Reformation?
The outcome is sure. With unvarying monotony, the
witness of history confirms our Lord's declaration, "The
new piece that filleth it up taketh away from the old,
and .the rent is made worse." Either the new spiritual
life destroys the old forms or it is itself destroyed in the
effort for adjustment and conformity.
Nevertheless, this patchwork theory of religion has by
no means passed away. It reveals itself in the Chris-
209

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
tian thinking of our own day, and hampers the spiritual
growth of disciples as seriously as ever it did. We may
detect its presence in at least two forms. First, there
are those who still look upon Christianity as a patch
inserted to fill up life's incompleteness. And second,
there are those who think of the religion of the gospel
as a patch to cover life's imperfections.
First,, I say, there are those, and they are by no means
few, whose ideal of Christianity is that it is a patch to
fill up life's incompleteness. Life is considered as a com
plex whole made up of various elements. The physical,
the intellectual and the spiritual are so many depart
ments of the whole which constitutes human life, and
each must be developed in due proportion if the man
hood is to be complete. Holding this theory, a man is
apt to draw the lines very sharply between the religious
and the secular in his life, and to see to it that the one
shall not trespass upon the sphere of the other. Busi
ness is business and is conducted on strictly business
principles, that is, upon the principles that unchristian
men follow in business. Politics, too, and recreation are
outside the sphere of religion and it must not be al
lowed to control them. Religion is necessary because
man has a spiritual nature that must be nourished and
developed., but it is one among many, and must keep to
its own place. So the man is regular in attendance at
church, he may even be zealous in prayer-meeting, but
these things are kept strictly apart from the rest of his
life. In church work and its collaterals he is animated
by the spirit of love and self-sacrifice. His great desire
is the salvation of his fellow men. He is benevolent,
kind-hearted, unselfish. But when he goes forth from
the church into business or society or politics he is ani
mated by the spirit of competition or of self-seeking am
bition. Thus it frequently happens that men who are
held up by the church as exemplary Christians, and are
lauded for their ardent piety and overflowing benevo-
210

THE NEW CLOTH in the OLD GARMENT
lence, are utterly unscrupulous and heartless in their
business relations and enterprises. Even churches them
selves often belie their preaching by the methods and
spirit revealed in the transaction of their business af
fairs. What wonder that under such circumstances the patch
of piety continually shrinks till at length it tears itself
wholly away and leaves in life a larger rent than was
there at the first! What wonder if the church that
preaches such a doctrine is shrinking till it threatens to
leave society as a whole with only a large rent where
it was!
Again, there are those who look upon Christianity as
a patch designed to cover the imperfections of the life
and to conceal its defects from the eyes of divine wrath.
They are the disciples who delight to preach and to be
lieve some doctrine of the atonement that substitutes the
righteousness of Jesus for their own righteousness,
which is lacking. They sing, "Jesus paid it all," and
then settle down to lives of contented slavery to sin,
fondly imagining that that daily repentance covers all
the evil doings of the day with a patch of divine for
giveness that makes the garment as good as whole again.
Said a very orthodox but very irascible deacon to a
young preacher after a sermon on holiness, "I do not
trust for salvation to any righteousness in my life, but
to the fact that I always repent of any sin that I commit
and pray for forgiveness. Why, I never_heat my horse
but I_arn_ sorry, for it aftexwards." "My friend"," re
plied the preacher, "if your sorrow doesn't make you quit
beating your horse, it wilL tu)tjsa¥^yflil.£rom-4)eiadition.''
And who will say that there are not many disciples of
whom that deacon is a fair type? They see the rents in
their own characters, but hope to so conceal them with
patches of repentance, or what not, that God shall not
see them. Such souls make no spiritual progress. They
do not grow in grace. They are not sanctified. How
211

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
can they be? They neither feel the necessity nor un
derstand the possibility of sanctification.
No soul was ever saved by such a doctrine as that.
The millennium could not be brought to pass in a mil
lion eternities by it. The only tendency of such a view
of religion is to make the life worse and worse. As be
fore, the patch that seemed so sufficient when applied,
shrinks day by day until at length it is wholly lost out
of the life. He who trusts for his salvation to the im
puted righteousness of Christ, who imagines that his
own unrighteousness is to be concealed at the Judgment
Day by the borrowed robe of Christ's righteousness, will
eventually lose all interest in righteousness of any kind.
Christly character cannot be built up on subterfuges of
any kind, however pious, or on shams, however widely
approved. Against this notion of a rent and patched life the
Christ of to-day is protesting with many voices. In
opposition to the theory that divides life into many and
diverse elements the spiritual unity of life is being pro
claimed with an insistence hitherto unknown. We are
being brought face to face with the truth that one mo
tive, one principle, one law must govern the life in every
part, that religion is not a separable element or depart
ment of life, but that it is the very essence of life in all
its departments, that it is the motive, the principle, the
law by which the whole life must be governed and from
which the whole must take its character and tone. We
cannot long turn a deaf ear to the prophets who are
telling us in the Word of God that the same spirit of
self-sacrifice which we believe should control in our re
ligious and benevolent work is also the true spirit for
business or politics or society. Either we must permit
the life to be made wholly new with the spirit of Christ
for its warp, or we shall lose our Christianity altogether,
and what is left of the old life will be sadly disfigured.
Again, the Christ of to-day demands that all notions
212

THE NEW CLOTH in the OLD GARMENT
of imputed character be done away as dishonest in them
selves and dishonoring to God. The only righteousness
that the moral intelligence of this age can recognize is
real righteousness. It finds the significance of gospel
salvation, not in the judicial pardon of sin on the ground
of an artificial and false judgment, nor in the escape of
the guilty one from the penalty of his sin, but in a real
and essential victory over sin, in the escape through
victory from its power and pollution. The spirit of the
times calls for a religion that shall actually make life
purer, less selfish, more kindly, that shall transform and
transfigure society, that shall enter into all human life
and shall bring it into growing conformity to the life
of God.
The rpligion of doctrines and theories does .noi-appeal
to burdened and thoughtful men, and they naturally turn
away from its"T5trtward njanifestation in the Church.
The-old—jttdicial" view of sin and salvation, too, is fast
passing away, and in place of this marvelous structure
of scholasticism and theology is rising the natural view
of sin as an actual fact, a force working ruin here and
now by natural processes, and calling for some real
power, religious or other, that shall heal the disease and
remove the difficulty. Unless Christianity proves its di
vine efficiency in accomplishing this cure, it must pay
the penalty of its weakness in gradual but certain dis
integration. All this, however, is remote and general. Let us turn
for a few moments to that which is more direct and
personal. The parable finds its vital application to
every individual life. It utters to each one of us its
challenge, What is your ideal of religion? Is it a
patch? Is it a partial, shrunken thing? Do you think
of religion as merely a section of your life, to be kept
quite apart from the rest ? Do you trust in it as a cover
for your shortcomings in the home, in business, in
society, and in the countless other relations of life? Do
213

THE1 TEACHINGS OF JESUS
you hope by religious zeal and churchly activity to con
ceal dishonesty or greed or impurity or unkindness from
the eye of God, so that you shall appear before the judg
ment seat as holy when in fact your life has been very
unholy ?
Oh, listen to the message of the Christ as it comes to
you through this parable! The Christian life is not a
mere compromise with the old life of sin. It is not a
little of the new on the surface while a great deal of
the old remains underneath, as wretched and as imper
fect as ever. It is not a poor, mended, unsightly cloak,
to be thrown over the life. It is a new life, wholly new,
a complete life, a life wholly distinct from the old. It
is a life that grows more and more into harmony with
the divine life of God.
Listen to the same message as it is interpreted by St.
Paul. "If any man be in Christ" — what? "old things
shall be mended and patched"? "old things shall be
somewhat improved"? — No! no! "If any man be in
Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed
away; behold, all things are become new."

214

The Expansive Force of
Living Experience

CHAPTER XVII
The Expansive Force of
Living Experience
THE NEW WINE IN OLD BOTTLES
Matt. 9:17; Mark 2:22; Luke 5:37,38
Text. — "No man putteth neiv nvine into old bottles. " — Luke 5 :37
LIFE implies variety, progress. Monotony is
lifelessness. The lifeless creations of man
inevitably bear the trade-mark of monotony.
He makes a coin, and then from the same
die turns out hundreds of thousands of
other coins that are identical with the first in every re
spect. He makes a watch, and of myriads sent out from
the same factory no man can distinguish one from an
other unless by means of the number stamped upon it.
Even the brain creations of the dreamers, the thinkers,
the artists, with all their freshness and originality, re
veal a certain underlying sameness which we call style.
The style of an author, the school of an artist, what is
either but the monotony that tinges and limits the variety
of his work? For man does not possess the power of
infinite variation; he has not discovered the secret of
life. How different is it with the living creations of Godl
Who would ever speak or even think of the style of a
divine creation? There is infinite variety without a hint
of repetition or limitation. Among all the countless mil
lions of the human race, no -two faces can be found that
are absolutely identical; how much less two entire per-
217

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
sonalities. In the vegetable world every tree and plant,
yes and every minutest leaf or twig has its distinct in- ¦
dividuality. No two smallest flowers alike, no two com
monest blades of grass precisely the same. Each em
bodiment of life is a fresh creation, absolutely new and
unique. As men differ in face or form, so also do they differ
in mind, feeling, disposition, temperament. Never in
the history of the race have there been two identical souls ;
never two mental or spiritual experiences that were exact
duplicates the one of the other; for these, too, are the
living creations of God and partake of his infinite na
ture. The life that has entered into fellowship with the
divine cannot but be progressive and ever new.
This is the point at issue between two antagonistic
views of religion. The one regards religion as a human
invention, a lifeless system of service, and consequently
to be cast in certain rigid molds of form and ceremony.
The other sees religion as a divine creation, pulsating
with an ever new and growing life that cannot be re
strained within fixed bounds or limited by hard and fast
rules of conduct. In the one view religion is a me
chanical fulfilment of prescribed rites; in the other, it
is "the life of God in the soul of man." The history of
religion among men is a history of the struggle between
these two ideals, and all religious progress results from
the triumph of the divine and the living over the human
and the formal.
This, also, is one of the points involved in the question
with which the scribes and Pharisees and the disciples of
John challenge Jesus. "Why do the disciples of John
fast often, and make prayers, and likewise the disciples
of the Pharisees; but thine eat and drink?" To the
minds of his questioners religion is chiefly a matter of
forms and ceremonies, of fastings and prayers ; and they
expect that Christianity will be only a new coin pressed
out from the old die. Possibly it may reveal some new
'i
218

THE NEW WINE IN OLD BOTTLES
elements ; but surely it will be in essence and in externals
for the most part like that which they have already
known. If there be anything new in its spirit and teach
ing, surely these will be embodied in the old symbols,
they will express themselves through the familiar chan
nels. To this element of the question, Jesus replies, "No man
putteth new wine into old bottles ; else the new wine will
burst the bottles, and be spilled, and the bottles shall
perish. But new wine must be put into new bottles ; and
both are preserved."
To those who heard him, the meaning of the parable
or simile would be perfectly clear^ The old, bottles, ^ or
wine-skins, dry, _hard,..eajsjy[y cracked, and "containing the
seeds" bf~fermentation which would set free the very
force that should burst them, well represents the lifeless
and rigid forms of the old religion. The new wine, fresh
from the grapes and filled with the mysterious life of the
vine, is a fitting type of a living, enthusiastic, expanding
Christian experience. Just as surely as the new wine
with the expansive force of its fermentation would break
the dried and lifeless skins, so surely would the growing
life of the new religion refuse to be confined within the
rigid but feeble mold of the ancient forms; and if the
attempt were made to repress it, the priceless spiritual
energy would break its prison and run to waste. On the
other hand, the new wine-skins, strong, elastic, pliable,
stand for the new forms, the spontaneous service in which
the fresh spiritual life may work freely and fully, thus
attaining the ripeness of Christian experience and giving
true performance to Christian service.
Briefly, then, the thought of the parable is this: —
Every genuine religious life is essentially a new creation.
True Christianity is a-Jbdng.-. expanding, jowrflowing
energy: It_ cannot be .reduced . to. fixed forms and ex
pressed in set phrases, but continually demands new
channels of action and fresh modes of expression. Every
219

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
great revival that has swept over the Christian Church
has been marked by phenomena peculiar to itself and un
like those manifested in previous awakenings. The tide
of uprising spiritual life has cut a new channel for it
self as it has flowed onward, and only as men have been
willing to accept this new channel has the blessing poured
into their lives. The effort to embody this living spiri
tual force in the rigid limitations of a decadent formal
ism has always resulted in disaster to the forms and in
waste of spiritual power.
"No man putteth new wine into old bottles." True
enough. A single experiment of this kind in what we
term "the natural world," is sufficient to convince men of
the folly of it, and ever afterwards they act more wisely.
But in the spiritual world our wits work more slowly,
proving again and again the truth of our Lord's saying,
"The children of this world are in their generation wiser
than the children of light." The religionists of every age
seem to be possessed of a mania for saying the old ,fapt-
tles^of phrase.^and-form-and trying toTorre^SoISiem
the^ewnvme cjfjhje^gjjgr, growing spiritu^life. Accord
ing to tKe persistent notion, the wine is made for the bot
tle, not the bottle for the wine. The lifeless form is magni
fied till it seems more important than the spiritual life;
and it is really astonishing with what tenderness we
cling to some of these empty and worthless bottles long
after the last drop of spiritual wine has flowed from their
gaping seams.
There are to-day in the Christian Church enough of
these old bottles to stock a spiritual apothecary's shop,
and not a few eager but belated saints are diligently try
ing Jo bottle up in themTEe^eflervercenTspm
the unfoiding~tWentiet-hcentury. Look at them all neatly
arranged on the churchly shelves and labeled with" the
neatest of churchly labels — old bottles of thought, old
bottles of action, old bottles of expression.
There on the upper shelf, far above the reach of the
220

THE NEW WINE IN OLD BOTTLES
babes in Christ, are the old bottles pf thought, "Creeds"
we call them. What a long row! All sorts and sizes
from the Apostles' Creed and the Nicene Creed and the
Athanasian Creed down to the Cambridge Platform and
even to the creed of 1883 ; and nearly every one of these
bottles, I think I may say every one of them, has a
crack in it somewhere through which the wine has burst
out. From earliest times the Church has sought to formu
late Christian truth systematically and permanently, and
to make these creeds or statements of doctrine the stand
ards of Christian thought for all succeeding generations.
One council of the Fathers even went so far as positively
to declare at the end of the creed which it had formulated,
"Unless a man believe every part of this creed, he shall
no doubt perish everlastingly." Each of these creeds
has stood for a greater or less period as the ultimate
standard of orthodoxy in Christian thinking, and each
in turn has been given up after a severe struggle only
when the independent spirit of a growing religious life
has refused longer to be restrained and hampered by the
rigidity of obsolete expression.
Religious beliefs, like all other products of the human
mind, are subject to the process of evolution. Change,
not fixity, is the law of faith. Minds differ. Every
generation looks at truth from a new standpoint. The
experience and needs of every succeeding age are es
sentially new. The truth of one generation becomes the
untruth of the next, unless it is newly expressed and
freshly applied. It is not more necessary to keep our
text-books of science carefully revised and brought up
to date than it is to keep the thought of the disciple
abreast of his advancing experience. Our beliefs are the
outgrowth of our experience. A fixed belief therefore
betokens an experience petrified or stagnated.
So these carefully arranged creeds, these symbols of
Christian truth that have been wrought out of much pray-
221

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
er and study and even angry debate, have been aban
doned one by one and permitted to give place to others
expressing later and more mature thought which should
be set aside in their turn or even destroyed. The process
has become well-nigh monotonous in its frequent repeti
tion, yet men are slow to learn the lesson, and each new
generation seems to look upon its own belief as the fi
nal form of truth's expression and to cling to it as per
sistently and to insist upon its acceptance as dogmatically
as though it had not utterly repudiated the right of its
predecessors to do the same. And so the contest be
tween orthodoxy and heresy continues, quite regardless
of the fact that the heresy of yesterday is ever the or
thodoxy of to-day, and the heresy of to-day will as surely
be the orthodoxy of to-morrow.
Were the only evil results of this protracted struggle
the destruction of the creeds and the heart-burnings of
their defenders, that would be a comparatively trifling
matter. The bottles can well be spared. But when we
think of the enormous waste of the new wine of the king
dom, of the spiritual power that has been lost, of the
spiritual experience that has been hampered and mis
directed, of the spiritual lives that have been blighted,
who can ever estimate the damage that has been done?
Then, too, there are the old bottles of action. There
are fixed rules of conduct by which certain disciples
would seek to determine for themselves and for all their
fellow Christians just what occupations and recreations
are proper for a follower of the Christ. Always we may
find those Christians who think that religion consists in
doing certain things and not doing other certain things,
and who are ready to map out with precision the conduct
of every Christian life, making each life as like every
other life as are different coins from the same die.
Those Judaizers who sought to lay a heavy burden of
rules and duties upon the shoulders of the new converts
in Asia Minor have had their imitators in every age and
222

THE NEW WINE IN OLD BOTTLES
land. They are the disciples who measure every Chris
tian life by the yard-stick of their own conscience, and
cut every Christian duty by the pattern of their own ser
vice; who believe that no one can be a true Christian
who does not do just as they do and feel just as thejjj
feel. Such were the well-meaning persons of John Bun-
yan's day who haunted his soul in his boyhood days
with the idea that he had committed a grievous sin and
imperiled his soul's eternal salvation every time he played
the innocent game of "tip-cat." Such, too, were those
of the Puritans who loaded the Sabbath with duties and
restrictions that made the day a trial and a weariness to
all who were not fashioned after the Puritan model in
spirit and in temper.
Do we not find some even in our own time who ex
pect the religious life jxL youth tojtake,,precisely the-Sarne
form as Jhat of mature age? Arejhere none who..look
with suspicion Upon" the__Christian Endeavor movement
and similar forms" of religious activity, because all the
members of these modern organizations do not fall in
with the established and conventional methods of the
Christian Church? Then!, top, ^is^^L-DL threescore
years caresja^ingjlpr recreation or amusement. _Hjs
blooct is "thin, his muscles are stiff,, he Jaas.passed through
many~!OTg-7ein^^^ consequently his re-
ligio'us"reelfrig*seeks expression in quiet and even solemn
folTtns: — TtJO~6^fc7iT|ii£Sp£Cls" the young disciple with an
abundance' of ariimal^pirhXand an overflowing enthusi-
asn^onm5Ta™his"iiTe7_af ter Jhe. same, staid fashion, and
frowTiTTJporraTl'jollity and mirth as tokens of an unre-
generate cpndition.
The repeated "Thou shalt not" of Sinai is an old bot
tle to-day. The new bottle of the gospel is labeled,
"Thou shalt." The old bottle is manufactured from pre
cepts, the new from principles. And it is unspeakably
better to leave even the young disciple to work out the
application of these principles in his own mind and life

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
than it is to cramp him and condemn him to perpetual
spiritual infancy by multiplying precepts.
I verily believe that many an honest purpose to serve
Christ and many a devout aspiration to a higher life
has been wholly dissipated by the fruitless effort of youth
to conform itself to a type of religious action and ser
vice fitted only to mature years. The new wine of youth
ful experience could not compress itself within the old
bottles of mature habit and aged seriousness, and so the
bottles burst and the wine was spilled.
Once, again, I have spoken of the bottles of expres-
¦fKMfc-^JQWLwe delight to bottle_up our religion in-certain
pet phrases ! We j^tch^omiljKell^urned. sentence from
the lips of a living, working Christian, anoHsixaightway
we adopt it as the vehicle of our own thought or feeling.
It may be a choice form of prayer or a crisp and express
ive bit of testimony or a pungent word of exhortation.
Whatever it is, it answers the purpose very well so long
as the experience which we put into it is sufficiently old.
But fresh experience, living desire, or aspiration or en
thusiasm cannot be thrust into any of these old forms.
They will require for their utterance new phrases, fresh
and unworn forms of expression.
As a young man Mr. Moody lived in Boston, and it
was in that city that he began his Christian life. After
wards he went to Chicago and there gave himself to the
service of God in a more complete consecration and made
rapid progress in Christian life and experience. Return
ing to Boston after an absence of fifteen years for the
purpose of undertaking important evangelistic work,
he assembled the Christian people of the churches in a
great meeting for preparation. As the meeting drew to
a close he said to them, "Why, the" Christian people juf
Boston are praying the sameT^oK prayeTs^at^rhejuwere
prayingrfiltero" years ago when I lived in the city L«jA-it
strange jthat. sinners are not converted. when the saints
are not making any progress in Christian experience?" '"
224

THE NEW WINE IN OLD BOTTLES
Very soon after the revival began to take effect those
old prayers disappeared and new, ones began„touiake-their
place. That ""is always one of the first, signs, of a gen
uine revival— the. people -begin -to pray new prayers and
tonBrjng. new testimonies and fresh suggestions to_,the
praje£Htneetings. Just as soon as . souls begin to be
Swakened and to have new desires and new experiences
anH"a new enthusiasm, these will surely begin to express
themselves in new forms of speech. -The elegant old
pfayeTs that have been used for a lifetime, yes, that have
rnafijrof them been handed down from father to son
for generations, will be cast aside and there will be a
Irving' freshness about every prayer that will impress it
self upon all who hear it. It will be a direct and simple
expression of immediate personal needs.
Who has not seen these old bottles of prayer. an4 tes
timony and exhortation burst into fragments by the
"corning of a"great revival that filled every soul with a new
and living experience and that pressed upon all with
new. desires and fresh purposes?
Oh, we are very careful of the bottles; but of what
value are they? They are nothing in themselves.33Kie
wine, the wine, that is the important thing. - In ..other
wcTdV^e"tftrtWard~ form, "whether in thought or action
or expression, "is ' whblTy subordinate. The matter of
vital importance, the only, important matter, is the spiri
tual "experience and life, the growing, expanding Christ-
life in'rhe" soul. ~ If we but make sure of that, it wilLdis-
cover for itself some fitting form of embodiment and
expression. The parable suggests to every hearer two pertinent
questions. F,ksir your. jdeaLnf religipn,, what, is.it?. A^
collecJion.«a£jold_ bottles waiting to be fitted, with lifeless
liquor? Are you" frying to conform "your life to certain
fixed .standards that men have styled 'Christian? -Are
you striving to school your „ mind tp^spme Jixed, state
ment of behef (the "deep sleep of a settled conviction"),
225

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
your conduct to a prescribed standard of action, yQur
speech to approved _forms_ofL, expression? In a word,
a~fe"*"yT3u" thinking ' firsthand chiefly of certain outward
forms that have obtained recognition in the Christian
world at large and are commonly approved as religious
and proper ? That is the ideal of the scribes and Phari
sees. The word of the Master is, "Seek first and above
all else the new wine of a living spiritual experience.
Hawe done with the old. forms. Never mind the external.
Put the life first and above all, and when you have made
sur.e_of.that, let it clothe itself .and express itself in what
soever forms" are best adapted to it. Let the forms be
as new and as elastic as the life which they contain."
In the second place, your religious experience, how
does it express itself? Does it fall naturally and easily
into old forms and familiar phrases ? Are you in bond
age to these? Does it never call for the use of an un
familiar word or the performance of an unconventional
act? As to thought, are you simply repeating the
thoughts of past generations? As to action^ are you
quite content with the popular standards of life and ser
vice? As to expression, do you find yourseliUfalling
into stereotyped forms of prayer and of testimony, bor
rowing the ready-made forms of others ? Have a care !
The wine is getting old, or the old bottles would not_so
readily contain it.
Such is not the true Christian life. That, says our
Lord, is new, living, expanding, effervescing^ a fresh
supply every year, a novel experience every day, a con
stant discovery, a ceaseless progress. Do not rest in
the idle satisfaction of the half-intoxicated feaster, say
ing, "The old is better" ; but come day by day and let
your soul be filled with the new wine of the kingdom
fresh from the vintage of Calvary,

226

Self-satisfied Conservatism

CHAPTER XVIII
Self-satisfied Conservatism THE REVELER
Luke 5:39
Text.— "He saith, The old is good."— -Luke 5:39
CONSERVATISM is of two kinds. There is
a strong and intelligent conservatism that
acts upon human thought like the ballast up
on a vessel or the brake upon a coach, check
ing its career only to render its forward
movement more steady, safe and permanent,, and there
is a stupid and self-satisfied conservatism that is like
the ball and chain upon the ankles, helping nothing and
hindering all rapid or effectual progress, all worthy
.achievement — the symbol, in short, of bondage. The one
recognizes clearly the value of established opinions and
past achievement, and makes of these stepping-stones
to higher things and nobler thoughts in the present and
for the future. The .other, content with the riches in
herited from the past, makes of them a barricade to close
the pathway of future progress.
It is this inertia of a stupid and self-satisfied conser
vatism that Jesus portrays in his brief sketch of the half-
drunken reveler. Already he has spoken two parables
illustrating different phases of the general topic; now
he adds the capstone to the pyramid and makes it com
plete. As we study the picture we discover in it a most
vivid expression of the truth which has since passed into
229

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
a proverb, viz., The worst enemy of the better is the good.
The cause of human progress is less endangered by the
positive opposition of evil than by the negative satis->
faction with lesser good.
This inertia of contentment crops out in the most trif
ling matters. The old coat, the old shoes, the old dress,
— how we cling to these long after the new have been
purchased and hang in the wardrobe ready for our use!
Propriety, respectability, perhaps even health calls for
the adoption of the new, but we enjoy the easy comfort
to which we have become accustomed, and we still think
that "the old is the good."
In matters more vital the same spirit reveals itself
with effects proportionately more disastrous. The prog
ress of the industrial world is wrought through a con
tinuous struggle with blind conservatism. Every new
idea, every novel invention, has been compelled to win
its way to popular acceptance in the face of bitter oppo
sition. Not a machine, however marvelous in its work
ing or beneficient in its product, but has been decried
as the enemy of the working man or as inferior to
instruments already in use. Your Hargraves or your
Arkwright, offering to mankind machines of more value
than all the wealth of the Indies, has met with suspi
cion and calumny and even with violence from both
workmen and employers, who with one voice have cried,
"The old is the good."
In the realm of science and education, where, if any
where, we should expect receptive minds and the pro
gressive spirit, not alone new theories but clearest demon
strations as well are confronted with this inertia of con
servative thought that is slow to give them a place and
to make use of the truth which they reveal. Copernicus
makes discoveries that revolutionize the science of astron
omy, and the ghost of old Ptolemy is conjured up to
haunt and oppose him. Harvey finds the key to the
circulation of the blood, and many of his learned con-
830

THE REVELER
temporaries confront him with the ancient notions of
Aristotle. Darwin and Huxley propound the doctrine
of evolution, and are denounced as infidels on the author
ity of Moses. For scholars are no less prone than others
to join in the cry, "The old is the good."
Oh, yes, that is the spirit of the Old World! But
America is the New World and the American people are
a new people. Everything is new with us, so as a matter
of course we shall find a wholly different spirit ruling
here. Shall we? shall we? What, did you never hear
any one right here in America sighing for "the good old
times"? If the talk is of statesmen, they will hark back
to Jefferson and Adams and Hamilton ; if it is of preach
ers, they will tell you of Edwards and Payson and Nettle-
ton; if of orators, they will remind you of Patrick
Henry and Choate and Webster ; if of social queens, they
will run over the list of colonial dames from Dorothy
Hancock to Martha Washington ; and they are sure that
the present age cannot show the equal of any of these.
Speak of social conditions and they will paint dismal
pictures of the decadence of our rural communities and
the moral degeneracy of our cities. Agitators loudly
insist upon the superiority pf former industrial condi
tions, and Christian preachers often descant in glowing
terms upon. the transcendent piety of the Pilgrim fathers
and the holy calm of the Puritan Sabbath.
It were difficult to find a person of advanced age who
will acknowledge that conditions, social, political, indus
trial or religious are as good at the present time as they
were in his youth. For even in this new country and amid
the new manifestations of the most wondrous progress
one may continually hear the echo of those maudlin
words, "The old is the good."
Jesus was an innovator. Progress was the very es
sence of his gospel. To make all things new was his
declared purpose. His teaching was more than revo
lutionary; it was evolutionary. That is to say, it meant
231

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
not merely the overturning of the old and the introduc
tion of the new once for all, but a perpetual overturning,
a continuous revelation of new truth, a fresh gospel for
every age, a new experience for every generation; yes,
an untried pathway for every individual and every day.
What wonder, then, that he met with continual and
bitter opposition from scribes and Pharisees? They were
the embodiments of conservatism in its worst form. The
tradition of the elders was their one standard of truth,
their ideal of religion and life. To maintain that tra
dition intact was their chief aim. Jesus permitted his
disciples unrebuked to disregard tradition. They ate
with unwashed hands. They plucked the heads of
wheat on the Sabbath. They were indifferent in the
matter .of fasting. They neglected numberless points
that these sticklers considered vital. And Jesus seemed
to encourage rather than to restrain them. Such an atti
tude towards ancient and accepted ideals aroused preju
dice in the minds of the rulers. They closed their minds
and hearts and utterly refused to give the new doctrine a
hearing. It was new and that was with them enough to
condemn it. On that ground alone it was rejected and its
Exponent was crucified.
At an early period in our Lord's ministry this predi
lection for the old and distrust of the new finds ex
pression in specific questioning. "Why do the disciples
of John fast often^ and make prayers, and likewise the
disciples of the Pharisees; but thine eat and drink?" A
small matter truly and of trifling import in itself. Yet
the question is a telltale straw. It betrays the current of
a narrow conservatism that is to hamper the work of
the Redeemer at every step with disputes about the Sab
bath or the law or authority or what not; consequently
he replies to its cavil with a threefold group of parables,
brief, cogent, effective. In the first two parables of the
triad he clearly exposes their false notions regarding his
gospel and unhesitatingly declares its newness. He has
232

THE REVELER
not come to patch up an old and worn-out system of re
ligion, nor to pour new spiritual life into old forms and
ceremonies. He has come to make all things new. The
new life demands new systems and new forms.
He adds this third parable to show that their con
servatism is not that wise and commendable reverence for
the best things of the past that makes for safe and per
manent progress in the present, but rather a senseless
and besotted content with the old that beclouds the mind
with prejudice and blocks the pathway of all advance
ment. The two preceding parables recognize a spirit of
honest inquiry that animates some of his questioners.
This third exposes and rebukes the spirit of self-satis
fied prejudice that is too clearly revealed in others.
The inertia of a stupid and self-satisfied conservatism
— have those ancient scribes and Pharisees a monopoly
of this spirit? Unfortunately not. The same spirit has
found a lodgment in many a Christian heart, and abides,
even to the present day in the Christian Church. Every
advance movement of spiritual thought and life has been
compelled to do battle with it before it has won recog
nition and authority among the leaders of the Christian
world. Always there are those, and always too they are
in the majority, who cling with a blind devotion to past
ideals and established precedents, who revere time-hon
ored customs and methods, who plant their faith upon re
ceived interpretations of the gospel and are indignant
when some eager student of divine truth or some daring
explorer in the realm of Christian experience dares to
announce a fresh revelation or new discovery of truth.
History is in the main a record of wars and strife.
In this respect the history of the Christian Church is no
exception to the general rule. The struggles that have
wrought out the web of Church history have been exceed
ingly monotonous in character though waged on many
different fields. We may almost say that it has been but
one struggle often changing front and moving from field
233

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
to field with the progress of the ages. It is the struggle
between orthodoxy and heresy, in which orthodoxy is
the name arrogated to itself by received opinion, while
heresy is the new thought just dawning and clamoring
for recognition. As a rule the heresy of one century be
comes the orthodoxy of the next, and too often its ad
vocates repeat the folly of their early opponents by reject
ing yet newer and more advanced thought while they,
too, say, "The old is the good."
In tracing the course of the running warfare that has
been carried on in our own land between "New school"
and "Old school" theologians, one is obliged to take his
bearings frequently in order that he may know precisely
what phase of "Old school" or "New school" he is read
ing about, since the "New school" of yesterday is the
"Old school" of to-day, and the "New school" of to-day
will certainly be the "Old school" of to-morrow. A
Nettleton or a Lyman Beecher preaches a gospel mes
sage born of fresh thought and living experience, and he
is confronted with prejudice and suspicion. He is a
"New Light," and hears on every side the exclamation,
"The old is the good," "The old is the good." At length
the vigor of his heaven-born preaching prevails, and his
comes to be the accepted doctrine. Then he in turn
opposes the preaching of a Finney who is the herald of
yet more advanced thought, and to the newer truth re
sponds with the familiar protest, "The old is the good."
I doubt if ever there was a Christian preacher giving
to his people messages born out of a living and growing
experience of divine love who has not been perpetually
hounded by a few ultra-conservative church-members
clamoring for the "old gospel," and criticizing his utter
ances as dangerously novel and sensational. When men
speak thus of the "old gospel," they invariably mean the
hackneyed phrases and doctrinal statements to which they
have been accustomed from childhood.
234

THE REVELER
Within the memory of men now living they used to
sing— "The old-time religion
Is good enough for me."
Although the hymn has now fallen into disuse, unfor
tunately its spirit still survives in many minds. Not long
ago a young man preaching in a village in the state of
New York found the older members of the church al
ways ready to speak of the great revival that took place
in that village under the preaching of Charles G. Finney
more than sixty years before. According to their unan
imous testimony the preaching and spiritual life of the
present day were not to be compared with what was
then witnessed. Of course there was little encourage
ment for the most devoted preacher to labor when his
every effort only aroused the cry, "The old is the good."
More recently in a progressive Massachusetts city a
church has just called a new pastor, and at his installa
tion service the chairman of the candidating committee,
giving a public report of the work done in seeking a
pastor, said that at the outset the committee determined
not to consider any man who held new views regarding
the Bible, but to find ©ne sound in the faith who would
preach the old gospel without any modern additions or
improvements. What position could be more absurd?
One need not be a radical or tainted with the "higher
criticism" to see that such an attitude is fatal to spiritual
freedom and progress. Alas, the spirit of the half-
intoxicated reveler survives in the Christian Church and
mutters ever the one refrain, "The old is the good."
To intelligent and wise conservatism the religion of
to-day owes a debt of gratitude; but the conservatism
that absolutely closes eye and mind to all things new is
wholly out of harmony with the spirit of Jesus Christ.
So profound a thinker as Bacon has said, "They that
reverence too much old times are but a scorn to the new."
235

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
We are wont to think of this blind and self-satisfied
conservatism as characteristic of dull minds and of souls
that have never known the joy and power of a new expe
rience. And so it is. The indifferent, the lethargic, the
conventional are always content with the old, satisfied
with present good or even want of good. But when we
have said this we have not told the whole truth. We have
not even touched the truth on its most troublesome side.
The most progressive souls are not free from the in
fluence of this spirit. Strange it may be, nevertheless
it is true, that self-satisfied conservatism is a peculiar
danger of radically progressive minds. How, do you
ask? Partly as a result of reaction from radicalism;
chiefly through the intoxication of enthusiasm for a
good cause.
What more natural, nay, almost inevitable, than that
one who has thrown himself with all his might into the
advocacy of some newly discovered truth should become
so filled with the spirit of that truth that it should at
length seem to him the greatest and most vital truth
ever revealed? At first he must press forward against
the opposition of older conservatism; and with victory
comes a certain intoxication of success. The importance
of his revelation takes complete possession of his mind.
Now some prophet of yet higher and more advanced
truth appears. But the battle spirit is on and the chal
lenge remains posted to hold the field against all comers.
Utterly unconscious of the transformation that has
taken place in and around him, the voice that was former
ly raised in defence of the new now joins the growing
chorus, "The old is the good" ; for his new has now be
come the old.
Against this reaction of zeal, this intoxication of en
thusiasm, we must guard ourselves, lest our own spirit
of progress become at last a stupid and self-satisfied
conservatism. Life 'means progress, continuous prog
ress and growth. He whose mind and heart are closed
236

THE REVELER
to further revelations and experiences in the realm of
divine truth is spiritually dead. To stand still, though
it were at the very gate of heaven, is to invite the soul's
destruction. Woe to that disciple who fancies that he
has at length reached the end of his course in the search
for truth or in the possibilities of service; for he will
soon feel the rigor of death settling upon him! And
there is no more infallible token of the coming of death
than this, that the heart ceases to aspire to new expe
riences and greets every overture of progress with the
words, "The old is the good."
So brief and fragmentary is this group of parables,
that the majority of expositors omit it altogether, and
two of the evangelists, Matthew and Mark, fail to rei
cord the third of the group. To my mind, however,
they are no less suggestive and practical than others that
have been more often reviewed. And this last is a
worthy capstone to the group. To-day as never before
its message touches the life of the Christian Church at
a vital point. However it may have been in the past,
the intelligent Christian worker of the present age must
recognize the fact that the great obstacles against which
we must strive now-a-days are not gross sins and un
qualified evils. The daily choice of the disciple is be
tween the good and the better, between satisfaction with
the inheritance from the past and aggressive effort for
new conquests. Ours is the rich legacy of nearly twenty
Christian centuries. The vintage of all lands and climes
in character, in intellect, in religious truth and spiritual
experience has been stored up for our use. Truly thq
old is good, and many a soul is content merely to enjoy
that which has been given, to rest at ease like the dis
ciples on the Mount of Transfiguration. But the call
of the Christ is to ceaseless progress. The watchword
of his kingdom is "Forward!" The old may be good,
but the new is better. However great the achievements,
however rich the experience, however glorious the con-
237

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
quests of the past, the future holds achievements that
are greater, experiences that are richer, conquests that
are far more glorious. Then let us be thankful that the
old is so good ; but let us not make of the good a weight
to anchor our souls fast to earth; rather let us shape it
into wings that shall bear us aloft to new and higher
atmospheres and shall fit us for larger and nobler
service.

»38

Counting the
Cost

CHAPTER XIX
Counting the Cost
THE TOWER BUILDER
Luke 14:28-30
Text.— "Count the cost."— Luke 14:28
JESUS never belittled the difficulties of his service.
He never sought to win followers by making the
Christian life .seem easy, or in any way modify
ing the absoluteness and perfection of the divine
requirements. He never dazzled the minds of
his hearers with glowing promises of reward "either
here or hereafter while concealing the pain and the
suffering and the sacrifice by means of which that re
ward must be obtained. On the contrary, he declares
with the utmost clearness, intensified by frequent reit
eration, the jexactmgjslandardsjof _God's law, and paints
in vivid colors the_toil and danger and .complete., self-
surrender that. are the necessary conditions of success
in all spiritual endeavor. At times his language seems
to border on exaggeration in consequence of his effort
to_make_the. truth" perf ectly clear. At other times we
feel that his utterance is welPmgh cruel and forbidding.
Why is this? Is it because he wishes to repel from
his service those who come to him with eager proffers
of allegiance? Does he wish tp_hhghl the tender shoots
of faith and loyalty that are just springing in the soil
of the heart? Surely not that! What then? The an
swer speaks itself. In the first place, he would guard
241

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Jgainstjater ^ dijcouragement_ and defection on the part
of disciples by giving them a clear view of the diffi
culties and dangers of their service at the very outset —
yes, before they have taken the first step in self-commit
ment to him. Besides this, and even more important,
he would by this frank portrayal of self-renunciation
and sacrifice call_forth_ the strongest elements of the
manly and womanlyliature in" the spifffof struggle and
conquest. It is a challenge to thoughtfulness and to hero
ism, the supreme qualities of enlightened manhood. If
these qualities be enlisted under the banner of the Christ;
discipleship is strong and persistent. Without them
there must be repeated lapses.
In the course of his ministry great multitudes have
gathered about Jesus, drawn by many and diverse mo
tives. Some have come out of mere .curiosity to hear his
words and see his mighty works. Others have attached
themselves to him through gratitude for kind deeds
wrought upon themselves or their friend's. And others
still are moved by a deep but somewhat undefinedJiQpe_
oi greaterj;hjngs_yet to be revealed. Few if any of them
all have any adequate notion .of what is involved in true
discipleship. TJieirJoyaltyjs superficial at best, their at
tachment weak.
""Suddenly the Master turns to them, and in a tone at
once profoundly serious and eagerly hopeful exclaims,
"If any man cometh unto me, and hateth not his own
father, and mother, and wife, and children, and breth
ren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot
be my disciple. Whosoever doth not bear his own cross,
and come after me, cannot be my disciple." And I fancy
that many in that vast multitude, hearing these words,
turned away and_fprsppk their high quest, some with
sighs" of regret, others with words otxonterrjpt-and jridi-
jcule. There were a few, however, perhaps a goodly num
ber, whose minds were. sobered by the challenge, whose
[faces took on a mpre serious and determined "expressjon_
242

THE TOWER BUILDER
from that hour, and who listened with intense earnestness
to the further unfoldment of his thought. But whether
men heard or rejected them, the words abide as the
permanent utterance of the Christ to every age. They
come to us in this far-off time to startle us with the
thrill of an electric shock, to shatter aU jeasy-going or
superficial ideals and_to stimuTafe~ the "spirit ^oflinauiry
anddeepehed cbhsecratiom
^Whaf does Jesus mean ? Does he teach us to despise
natural affection, and condition his service upon the
heartless smothering of filial love? Must the instinc
tive affections of the heart be sternly and even cruelly
repressed in order that we may attain to spiritual life?
Does the highest sainthood involve treason to the dearest
relations of life, and the utter destruction of the tender-
est emotions of which the human heart is capable ? God
forbid ! The entire course of human progress under the
light of gospel teaching renders any such interpretation
absurd. With the growth of Christliness in the soul hu
man love grows ever deeper, stronger, more tender, more
intense. There are those who extol the filial reverence
of the Chinese and other unchristian peoples; still the
fact remains that_paganism discloses^ no such/ examples
of love between husband and wife, between parent and
child, between brother and sister, as is the common ex
perience of Christian society. If, now and again, there
is manifested some development of religious zeal in the
name of a higher spiritual life that stifles natural af
fection, it soon proves itself to be a devil-born monstros
ity. True Christliness, I repeat, deepens and intensi
fies the natural affections by the very power of that su
preme love to which these are subordinated ; yet all their
tenderness and beauty are as hate itself whenjcontrasted
withThe" soul's loyalty to its divine .Master. If for a mo
ment they conflict with that, they must be laid upon the
altar and consumed. It is thus from the ashes of self-
immolation that there has sprung a chastened, humble,
243

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
obedient love that is immeasurably stronger and purer
than any love can be when wedded to self-will.
A startling utterance truly is this of our Lord, yet
one that has been vindicated times without number in
the history of all godly living, from the day when mis
guided Abraham laid his son on the altar at Moriah to
the modem "era of~missionaryj devotion when." "a Mary
Reed"suTfeMefs_the_love and joy of a beauUfuTCHns£
tian home in order that she may devote her life to the
comforting and salvation of lepers in IndiaT" True," the"
actual requirement of such heartrending sacrifice may
be rare, but the spirit of it must be universal. The readi
ness to obey such a call is the token of genuine disciple
ship, the condition pf all highest moral and spiritual
attainment. Only for the shallow and half-hearted who turn back
from his service is this challenge of the Master left in
its original sharpness and uncertainty. For those who
remain to hear more, there are parables which make his
meaning clear, his utterance reasonable. These parables
are two in number, (i) the parable of The Tower
Builder, and (2) the parable of The Warring King. Al
though brief in form and incomplete in structure, these
sketches are as really parables as several others that are
much better known. In their interrogative and frag;.
mentary form they resemble the parables of The Lost.
Sheep and The Lost Cpin.^ Like those,~also", they present
similarity of outward features with an important distinc
tion of inner meaning:"" Clearly there are truths common
to the two'but they are not therefore identical or rep
etitious. Both suggest the necessity of" ihtelligenf "forF"
sight. " Both emphasize the ^dffiicutties- of T^iscjpleshig!
Both appeal to the spirit of struggle, the strong and man
ly element in human nature. "But the one, the parable
of The Tower Builder, views discipleship from its self-
ward side as the attainment of sainthood, the cultivation
of a truly "Christlike character; while the other, the_
244

THE TOW E.R BUILDER
parable of The Warring King, contemplates the Chris
tian" life From the. view-point of_ service, of aggressive
effort for the building up of God's kingdom in the earth.
At present we are concerned only with the parable
of The Tower Builder. "Which of you," says the Mas
ter, "desiring to build a tower, doth not first sit down and
count the cost, whether he have wherewith to complete
it?" To the most superficial hearer the parable utters its
ringing message, "Count the Cost." It is first of all a
chaUenge^aJ:hcuighttul..-and„in.telligent foresight. It is
a warningjagainst hasty—anxLunconsidered -action. It be-
speaks~for the spiritual life that same care, that far-sight-
ed wisdom, that personal preparation, that earnestness,
which are so_ essential in the success of any^enterprise.
It will not do to leave the Tellgious life to the chance
of impulse or emotion while we give to secular affairs
our profoundest thought and care.
To enter the service of the Christ is indeed an im
mediate and an imperative duty for all; yet it is a su
premely serious matter. In the noble words of the an-
^SSLiaairiag£_S£XYice, "It is not by any to be entereo^
into unadvisedly or lightly; but reverently, discreetly,
advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God." No one"
should undertake such a service without profound and
prayerful consideration. This does_not imply delay. It
does not excuse procrastination, For the mosFThought-
ful and far-sighted business man is sure to be most
prompt in action. It does, however, jmply honest_Jn-^
quiry, serjous^ttejition. It implies the weighing'of com
parative values, the e^tmiatingofj possibilities and"3esiTe57
the iprmmgl)f permanent aruTTtfe^ontrolling purppgesr
These may be done quickly, but they should be done
thoroughly. More deliberate and thoughtful consecration is one of
the crying needs of the modern religious life. We are
too superficial. We take tpo many things for granted.
245

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
We do not bring ourselves face to face with the great
problems and demands of the Christian life. We do not
take a large and clear view of its possibilities in attain
ment and service. We satisfy ourselves with little where
much is offered. We need to hear as clearly as did that
curious multitude the first challenge of this Tower
Builder— "Count the cost."
But I have said that he has a more direct and specific
message for us, a message distinctively his own. This
parable turns our thought more especially to the per
sonal or selfward aim of discipleship. Every disciple is
called to be as well as to do — to be in order that he may
do. Attainment is as vital to the Christian life as
achievement, and it is first. The great work accom
plished by a Peter, a Paul, an Augustine, a Luther, in
saving others or in redeeming society has only been com
mensurate with the work wrought in each by the Holy
Spirit. Ihey_jyere j^alled to _foe_saints. before 4hey_jyere
called to make, saints ; and their mighty influence in the
conversion of men was at once the result and the means
of their own sanctification.
The first call of God to every man is the call to be a
j>aint, i. e., to the completeness of moral and spiritual
victory in his own" s6ul7~JWe~can"florndTrv^
into "the" kingdom of heaven, but we can lead it there.
Too often we forget this. To an eager young reformer
Count Tolstoi once said, "Young man, you jweat too
much blood for the world; sweat some for yourself "first.
. . .If you want to make the world better, you have to be
the best' you "can, . .'".you cannot bring the kingdom of
God into the world until you bring it into your ownheart
first." Gpd's word echoes in each of those pregnant
sentences. Our Lord was always very emphatic in
declaring thejiecessity of personal attainmentJksLZnot^
jor its own_sake alone,, but as a prelude to work for
others. It is this selfward effort, this struggle for saintliness
246

THE TOWER BUILDER
of character, which Jesus represents under the figure of
a Tower Builder. Architecture always represents that
when used as a type oTtEe*spi ritual. "' The masonTs the
universal mafTTand the structure that he rears is a fit
ting-symbol- of that most noble of all creations, the human
character. - -
"Ahjire .architects of fate,
Working in these walls of time,"
sings the poet, and he is but repeating in slightly dif
ferent form the declaration of the apostle, "Ye are the
temple of God."
What more glorious, and at the same time, what more
appalling task can you conceive than this-^^the^attainnafint
ofa §ainJijL,charaGte-F ! To stand face toface with an
Abraham, or with a Paul, or with a John, yes, to stand
face to face with Jesus himself, and to realize, "This is
what I want to be, what I must be" — does it not suggest
an almost hopeless task? Here is a rude fisherman,
Peter, bigoted, ignorant, fickle, profane. The call
sounds in his ears one day as the Master walks by the
Sea of Galilee, "Follow me, and .become Saint. .Peter, ..the
steadfast,_the holy," the loving, the self-sacrificing, the
martyr."" Could the rude fisherman have seen at the
moment of his enlistment some noble saint, the exact
counterpart of what he himself was to become, doubt
less he would have felt that such attainment was beyond
his utmost hope. So does every thoughtful disciple feel
as he contemplates the lives that have attained while he
is only just beginning his course.
Yeg^ sainjh>OQd-^>r--th,£-pexfectJ^fe is indeed an ap
palling aim/but not therefore impossibleor ridiculous.
It~is--a-~goaT which every earnest soul shouldTenously
consider. Of those who fail to attain, the majority do
so, not because they have really been unable to accom
plish the task set before them, but because they have
247

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
never seriously undertaken it. They have entered upon
the Christian life with little consideration of its profound
significance. They have never counted the cost nor
caught any worthy vision of that upon which the cost
must be reckoned. The goal has been but dimly outlined
to their eyes, if indeed it has been seen at all.
Now the wise tower builder seeks first of all to get
a very clear and accurate idea of the tower which he
must-build- He studies with the utmost" care every"!!?
tail of .location, form, size. jnater^Sj^jetc. Only after
he has determined all these matters can he proceed to
estimate. thecost of building. No calculation is possible
until he has decided whether the tower shall be of wood
or of stone, whether it shall bej&fty feet or one hundred
feet in height, whether it shall be_ round or square, and
many other facts.
So, too, will the wise disciple endeavor to ipjmjsorne
adequate^ .notion . of. the jchaxacter. which.Jie.jnust_atlainf
He will not be satisfied with popular and general
ideals of Christian living or with conventional standards
of conduct. He will study for himself the very words
of Jesus. He will contemplate" the "perteot life. And
he will consider soberly the sufficiency of his resources
and the strength of his purpose for such attainment.
I do not wonder that many a soul halts on the thresh
old of surrender to Christ with the question, "Can I
hold out?" I do not wonder that the heart of the thought
ful man well-nigh fails him as he begins to realize the
magnitude of the task. To be a saint — that is a great
undertaking. To be a true and worthy son of God, to
reflect the image and spirit of Christ in human society,
in short, to be what a Christian ought to be always and
everywhere, is an enterprise that surpasses the unaided
strength of man. Well may one pause at the outset and
seriously ask himself whether he is sufficient for these
things. But however appalling the task may seem, it is pre-
248

THE TOWER BUILDER
cisely the task to which we are called. "Ye therefore
shall be perfect," is the unqualified declaration of Jesus,
involving at once a promise and a command. And,
after all, could we content ourselves with less than per
fection? Is not this just the aim and just the task that
marks us as true men and women? Is it not essential
to our very manhood and womanhood? Clearly it is
involved in our nature. It is not an artificial or an ex
tra requirement foisted upon us by religion.
Side by side, therefore, with the question, "Can I hold
out?" there should arise in every mind another question,
viz., "Can I afford not to try?" Are not the whole
meaning "and value of my ¦manhood involved in the try
ing? Ah, we often forget this question!
Having determined the nature of the tower to be
built, there arises next in order the question as to its
necessity and the resources from which it ^ tn he h^ilt
At this point "the~p*a¥abte~7aTls short of absolute parallel
ism. The building of a tower must be in some sense
optional with any man. There may be a question on
the one hand of ^he necessity or the desire to build, and
on the other of the ability to meet the expense involved.
In the matter of Christian character, however, neither
of these questions can properly arise. The perfect char
acter is not an optional attainment. It is a vital necessity.
Failing to attain this we fail in the fundamental purpose
of life. No true man or women will be satisfied for a
moment with any less perfect ideal. The Christian saint
is the only complete man, the only perfect woman.
Nor, in the spiritual life, is there any real question of
our ability to meet the cost of building. Doubtless, many
a disciple who starts well in the Christian life quickly
becomes discouraged and fails at the last to reach the
goal of sainthood. But this comes, not to those who
have counted the cost and found it excessive, but to those
who have entered upon the Christian life thoughtlessly.
Holiness of life and perfection of character are not, as
249

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
the theologians would have us believe, ideals quite beyond
the power of human attainment. They simply express
the limit of our resources when wisely and faithfully
employed. The doctrine of "moral inability" shrivels
and vanishes when touched with Paul's manly excla
mation, "I can do all things through Christ which
strengtheneth me." Holiness is practicable, perfection is
possible to the weakest child who takes Christ for his
helper. Every man has "sufficient to finish" if he does
not waste his spiritual patrimony or neglect to use his
resources faithfully.
The injunction to count the cost, does not, therefore,
imply any uncertainty as to man's absolute ability to
meet all God's requirements in the manner of life or
service. It only implies that without careful forethought
and an intelligent estimate of the magnitude of our task
we.may so waste our own power or so fail to lay hold
of the divine agencies, placed "at""6ur disposal thatiottr
task shall be incomplete at last. He who in a superficial
or thoughtless manner assumes that he has power to
achieve perfection will assuredly fall short of it. But he
who, in all humility and weakness, counts the cost and
enters upon his task relying upon God will no less surely
succeed. The most perfect men I have known are not
found among the ranks of the so-called "perfectionists."
They have not been the professors of holiness, glib-
tongued and shallow-minded. They have rather been
men who utterly disclaim all personal holiness and even
deny the possibility of such attainment.
Mqses^ hot-headed and self-reliant, __makes-a- signal
failure as a champion of oppressed Israel, and is obliged
to flee for his life and to hide away in the desert. Is
he therefore unequal to so great a task? No. After
forty years of discipline and humiliation, when,- he is so
distrustful of self that he hesitates even to obey the. rec
ognized call of God, he goes forth to a greatness of
achievement unsurpassed in all the ages. Not only does
250

THE TOWER BUILDER
he become the emancipator of his race, but he gives laws
which have shaped the life of mankind in every subse
quent age.
D'Israeli rises in Parliament with all the confidence
and supefficialify ™6f " youtrTTand hls™peech~lsTooEed by
those^present. Defeat -and mortification soher his mind
andcause him to measure the cost of success more ac
curately. After this he presses on till he becomes the
foremost figure in the House, the leader of the govern
ment, the most potent force in determining the policy
and directing the activities of the empire.
It is the spirit .oi-£a.Eefa4ness-an4- foresight, of self-
distrust and humility, that conquers the gr^atejrt diffi
culties" of life ana' brings perfection within our reach.
Failure, imperfection, defeat, these are chiefly the result
of neglect and carelessness. The face of your true saint is
never the unwrinkled, care-free face of a child, but
rather bears the deep furrows of trial, the strong lines
of thought and effort —
"As if the man had fixed his face,
In many a solitary place,
Against the wind and open sky."
Such are the only really beautiful faces.
Difficult, indeed, but quite possible, this task which is
laid upon us. In this fact lies the meaning of the last
part of the parable, "When he hath laid the foundation,
and is not able to finish, all that behold begin to mock
him." How true to life is the picture! Mockery and
ridicule are the inevitable penalty of such failure.
If we fail because our task is impossible, the laugh is on
God. That we fail when it is possible turns the laugh
upon ourselves.
The Christian worker of modern times often strives to
belittle the difficulties of the Christian life, to qualify
the demands of the Master, and to make discipleship ap-
251

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
pear an easy thing. Low standards of attainment are
accepted, and all notions of self-sacrifice and consecra
tion are passed over lightly. What is the result? What
could it be but that real sainthood should be rare? Ar
tificial crosses are substituted for the real cross of Jesus,
the cross of complete self-renunciation. Certain insig
nificant rules of life are laid down, and these take the
place of the perfect character and service.
This. lowering pf standards and concealing of diffi-
culties were bad enough if it accomplished its_ p_ujpojej
but it is utterly unpardonable when it fails, as it always
does. InsteacLpj_winning men and filling the ranks. of
discipleship,~"it brings lhc":CKurcTr^*"J"esiIS'tCEri:st 4nto
contempt with many of the strongest minds. The chal-
leflge-1^mahHbod~ahdlhe"'spirrrof struggle are wanting.
In the primitive days, when discipleship involved risk
of life and certainty of suffering and sacrifice, men, the
strongest and best, flocked to the standard of the cross.
But to-day, when luxury has displaced sacrifice and ease
has usurped the throne of service and consecrationjjmeal
are in the minority in the Christian ranks. The mass
of present-day converts are won from the ranks of youth,
and not a few prominent Christian workers consider it
a well-nigh hopeless task to labor with those of mature
age. Never were the_ opportunities for, spiritual attainment
better than to-day. YiFsuch'littainment now as ever is
conditioned upon earnest forethought and complete self-
renunciation. The modern crucible may be different in
form from the old, but gold and silver are purified by
fire in this age as in the most ancient times. No less
true is it that amid all the changes of society and life
character is wrought out in the twentieth century Chris
tian as in the disciple of apostolic days, only by severe
and tireless struggle entered upon in the spirit of intel
ligent and prayerful consecration.

252

Courage and
Cowardice

CHAPTER XX
Courage and
Cowardice
THE WARRING KING
Luke 14:31-33
Text. — "Whosoever he be of you that renounceth not all that he hath, he
cannot be my disciple. " — Luke 14:33
THERE are two ways in which we may look at
the work of Jesus. On the one hand, we
may see in it an infinite sacrifice made for us
and which leaves nothing to be done by us
but to receive and enjoy. On the other, we
may see it as a model for our imitation, a force for our
inspiration, calling upon us to follow in his footsteps and
thus to work out our own salvation and perform our part
in the salvation of the race. According to the one view,
the gospel becomes a sort of spiritual anesthetic, lulling
the soul into a selfish and fatal slumber. According to
the other, it sounds a clarion note of challenge to our
strongest manhood, our most devoted womanhood, the
manly response to which is fraught with blessing to the
world. Many there are who delight to sing,
"Jesus paid it all,"
and to so interpret that hymn that it leaves nothing to
be done by themselves. Others, rejoicing in what they
believe to be a true Christian experience, have sung —
"My willing soul would stay.
In such a frame as this,

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
And sit and sing herself away
To everlasting bliss."
But that is not Christianity as Christ taught it. Rather
is it what some one has appropriately styled, "SimciiS^d
selfishness." In contrast with this spirit Jesus himself exhausts the
resources of language to make his message a challenge
instead of a soporific. Plainness of speech and vividness
of parable combine to picture the exceeding greatness
of the labor which his service demands. In extravagance
of statement he outdoes the pessimist; yet he utters
every challenge with an air of confidence that it will be
accepted and that the acceptance will be vindicated by
success. In his darkest pictures there is the ring, not
of hopelessness, but of expectation. He does not be
lieve that his hearers will be terrified or discouraged.
He is very sure that deep down in the heart of every man
there is a spirit that responds to just such appeals, a
heroic element that needs great trial to bring it out and
to make it the dominant element of his being.
Is not this one secret of Jesus' power to win men and
to save them, that he calls out the divine in man by
presenting a divine task for his accomplishment? He
develops spiritual courage by taxing that courage to the
utmost. He cultivates spiritual power by stimulating
the strenuous exercise of that power. It is "deep call
ing unto deep" — the deep things of God calling unto the
deep forces in man; the deep necessities of life calling
unto the deep sympathies of the human heart; the deep
revelations of duty and of possibility calling unto the
deep spirit of consecration and sacrifice in the accom
plishment of Christly service.
In the parable of The Tower Builder, we catch a
glimpse of the task that lies before every man who would
fulfil the Christian ideal of sainthood. Sobered by a
vision of the, greatness of the completed task, we are
256

THE WARRING KING
bidden carefully to count the cost before we begin, that
we may not abandon the task in discouragement when
it is partially done. And now in the parable of The
Warring King, we have a similar treatment of aggres
sive Christian service. The magnitude of the service re
quired is set over against the limited resources of the
servant, with the corresponding alternative of struggle
or surrender. The parable is no less profoundly and dis
tinctly significant than the one which immediately pre
cedes it.
"What king," says the great Teacher, "as he goeth
to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first
and take counsel whether he is able with ten thousand
to meet him that cometh against him with twenty thou
sand?" Could the most confirmed pessimist present a more
doleful picture of the comparative adaptation of our
forces to the task which devolves upon us?' Is not that
the continual cry of unfaithful souls ? — "The work is too
great! It is quite beyond our powers! We can never
do it!" Think of it. Twenty thousand to conquer and
only ten thousand to do it with! The odds are great,
almost overwhelming. Yet is it, after all, an exaggera
tion? Is it not a perfectly truthful picture of the real
ity which confronts us every day? Nb intelligent man
can thoughtfully estimate the tasks of life and the re
sources of human wisdom and might without feeling
that the apparent force is utterly inadequate to the de
mand. So much to do and so little with which to do
it ; that is not exaggeration but sober truth.
Is this picture necessarily disheartening therefore?
Not by any means. Rather is it inspiriting. The world's
greatest victories have been those of the ten thousand
over the twenty thousand. Such victories have marked
every important step of human progress. Few are the
great triumphs of truth and righteousness that have been
won in equal battle. Witness some of the principal way-
257

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
marks of liberty. On the plain of Marathon a mere hand
ful of Greeks fought with more than ten times their num
ber of Persians and drove them into the sea. On the
historic field of Sempach a few brave Switzers made way
for liberty by defeating Austria's strong army. At
Lexington the "embattled farmers" fired the shot that
seemed at the time to invite destruction, but in the end
meant victory over the armies of Great Britain. Many
and marvelous have been the triumphs won for God and
humanity by the fearless confronting of the twenty thou
sand by the ten. ,
Nor is such conflict without its special attraction to the
heroic spirit. A Horatius does not wait long for a re
sponse to his challenge —
"And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds
For the ashes of his fathers
And the temples of his gods?"
Though the "odds" were three against thousands, two
men sprang to his side in a moment ready to dare and
to die if need be in defense of their city. They did not
die ; but living and triumphant they won immortality.
For such odds heroic souls are ever ready to volunteer
when a Lieutenant Home would carry bags of gunpow
der in the very face of the enemy to blow up the Cash
mere gate at the siege of Delhi, or when a Hobson would
lead a desperate enterprise to bottle up the Spanish fleet
in the harbor of Santiago. In such emergencies the dif
ficulty is, not to secure a sufficient number of volunteers
for the service, but to select the small number required
from the many who offer themselves. And, be it ob
served that the three in alliance with a favoring Provi
dence have again and again obtained complete victory
over the host, the ten thousand in defense of highest
truth have put the twenty thousand to flight.
258

THE WARRING KING
The parable of The Warring King is, as I have said,
a parable of aggressive Christian service. It is a picture
of the stillgyle belween the torces of righteousness and
the powers of evil, -befcw©e»~the~kiragdoni~5f "heaven "and
the- realm -of-darknessr" Better still, it is a picture of the
task tharfalls i 6~the individual disciple who takes his part
in the redemption of the world. The representation is
not general but specific, not collective but individual.
Jesus is not representing the task which rests upon the
shoulders of the Church or of the apostles alone. To
every student of the parable he says, "This is the task
that falls to you if you are to be accounted worthy to
bear my name."
Look at the world around you, the community in
which you live, the circle of acquaintance and influence
in which you move. Do not opportunities arise on every
hand? Do not evils challenge you without number? Do
not tasks great and manifold challenge achievement? Is
there not work sufficient for a spiritual Hercules that
cries out to be done? But you look at your resources
of spiritual power, of wisdom, of experience, and you
feel that they are totally inadequate. Your forces are
but as ten thousand while the hosts of wrong number
twenty thousand. It may be even worse. You are sin
gle-handed, perhaps, while it is a vast army that threat
ens. I do not deny the disparity of forces. That is
common enough and you do well to recognize it; yes,
to consider it soberly.r Were you unconscious of it or
blind to its significance there were little hope of victory.
Sober forethought is an essential condition of ultimate
success, since that alone can make us truly wise in the
employment of our resources.
Let us face all the facts intelligently but courageously.
To set ten thousand in array against twenty thousand
were simply to invite certain defeat, all other conditions
being equal. The ten thousand can conquer only when
they have some other commensurate advantage which
259

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
shall outweigh the disparity in numbers. Horatius and
his two friends held the thousands at bay because they
took advantage of a narrow pass where each must be
attacked singly. Puny man achieves wonders in conflict
with material obstacles by allying himself with the pow
er of steam or by putting himself into partnership with
other forces of nature. So must it be in spiritual strug
gle, in moral conflict The problem is not simply as to
what man unaided can accomplish, but what he can ac
complish in alliance with the infinite power of God.
The ungodly man does not realize this. To him all
forces are material. Spiritual forces have no place in his
calculations. When Moses sends twelve spies into the
land of Canaan to search out the wealth of the land and
to discover the best mode of entrance and conquest, ten
of the number bring back an utterly discouraging report.
True, the land is rich and beautiful. It flows with milk
and honey. In every particular it is a land to be de
sired. But the inhabitants are numerous and strong.
The cities are walled and very great. Moreover the
giant sons of Anak are there. Against such a people
what possible hope of conquest was there for the un
disciplined and ill-trained host of Israel? Surely any
people of ordinary intelligence could see the inequality
of conditions, and the folly of such an attempt.
But Joshua and Caleb give different counsel. They
urge the people to go forward to the conquest of the
land. Why did they do this ? Were they more rash than
their brethren? Did they not realize the magnitude of
the undertaking? Did they fail to take account of the
disparity in numbers and equipment? No. They were
intelligent and careful men. But they took account of
one factor in the problem that the ten had omitted to con
sider. True, it was ten thousand against twenty thou
sand, or worse. That they grant; but they add, "The
Lord is with us: fear them not." Ah, that is the con
sciousness that inspires the Joshuas and the Calebs ! That
260

THE WARRING KING
— that is the factor that more than outweighs greatest
odds. That is Ohe reenforcement that shall snatch victory
from impending defeat. The Lord is with us!
This vision of divine power it was that enabled Martin
Luther to undertake a work so far beyond any man as
the Great Reformation. When at times the opposing
force seemed about to overwhelm him, he and his friend
Philip Melancthon would sing together that grand battle-
hymn of the Reformation —
"A mighty fortress is our God,
A bulwark never failing;
Our helper he, amid the flood
Of mortal ills prevailing.

"Did we in our own strength confide,
Our striving would be losing,
Were not the right man on our side,
The man of God's own choosing."
Were Luther and Melancthon themselves any match
for the tremendous power of the Church of Rome? Of
course they were not. But laying hold of the infinite
power of God they faced the appalling odds and tri
umphed. So, too, Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden led his little
army of fifteen thousand men, at which all Europe
laughed, against the vastly greater legions of Spain and
Austria, and triumphed. Full well he appreciated the
odds against which he was fighting; but his confident
expectation of victory grew out of his implicit trust in
the power of God, and the consciousness that he was en
gaged in his service. On the eve of every battle the king
in person led his army in prayer, and then all joined
in the famous battle-hymn which has ever since borne
his name — 261

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
"Fear not, O little flock, the foe
Who madly seeks your overthrow ;
Dread not his rage and power;
What though your courage sometimes faints?
His seeming triumph o'er God's saints
Lasts but a little hour.
"As true as God's own word is true,
Not earth nor hell with all their crew
Against us shall prevail;
A jest and by-word are they grown;
God is with us, we are his own,
Our victory cannot fail."
Was the Swedish king reckless to undertake so unequal
a task ? The result proves that he was not. Though his
army was small he was in alliance with Omnipotence and
failure was impossible.
Almost every page of history offers its illustration
for our theme. What matter the odds, if we are work
ing together with God, if we have his power added to
our own ? Set a stripling David against a giant of Gath
and he slays him — for "the battle is the Lord's." Set
a John Knox against the rulers of Scotland and England
with the pope and bishops at their back, and he will come
off conqueror — for "the battle is the Lord's." Set a John
Brown against the entrenched hosts of slavery and mam
mon, and though he die on the scaffold, yet will he tri
umph and his very scaffold will be transfigured with
glory — for "the battle is the Lord's." Set a Toussaint
L'Ouverture against the veteran legions of Napoleon,
and though he may languish in a French prison, the free
dom of Hayti is secure — for "the battle is the Lord's."
Never forget this item in the account. One against
a multitude? Ten thousand against twenty thousand?
So it may seem to the eyes that have never been en
lightened, to the ignorant, the skeptic. Lord, open his
262

THE WARRING KING
eyes that he may see, and straightway the mountainside
shall swarm with horses and chariots uncounted. One
with God is always a majority. That is no empty prov
erb, no hyperbole. It is literal truth. Can a man unaided
lift a block of granite of a ton's weight? No. But with
the help of God, in other words, by taking advantage of
certain natural laws and forces, a child may lift many
tons. There are moral and spiritual weights far beyond
our strength, but with the aid of the divine forces at
our command we may easily remove them. Make al
liance with God. Put yourself into harmony with the
great spiritual laws through which he works and there
is no spiritual task so great that you need fear to under
take it.
Now for the remainder of the parable. I had almost
forgotten that ; yet we must not wholly neglect it. Jesus
suggests an alternative to this picture of struggle and
victory. What is it? "Or else." There is a great deal
involved in those two words, "or else." "Or else, while
the other is yet a great way off, he sendeth an ambassage,
and asketh conditions of peace." For shame ! The cow
ard! He does not even wait till his enemy is close at
hand and the danger imminent. Before he even knows
that he has twenty thousand men, while all his force and
purpose are still mere matters of rumor, he sends to him
in the most abject fashion and suffers him to dictate
terms of surrender.
Very little respect have we for a king who would show
himself so weak and cowardly as that. Nevertheless he
has only too many representatives in the Christian
Church. Are we not all of us continually making con
cessions to distant and imaginary evil? In politics, in
commerce, in society, disciples are continually yielding
their principles and making compromises with worldli-
ness and sin, not because they have been forced to do so
by defeat after manful struggle, but because while the
263

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
enemy was yet a great way off they have sent offers of
submission and tribute.
"What will people say?" is the terrible question that
terrifies many a disciple who would like to take a stand
for some principle of righteousness. Most of us do not
wait till "people" say anything ; but long before they be
gin to talk or have any occasion for speech we send our
ambassage in the form of surrender and conformity.
"When we are in Rome we must do as the Romans do" ;
for are not the Romans twenty thousand to our ten thou
sand ? Surely we should not exert any influence by being
strict and puritanical, and we should only be laughed at
for our pains. Then let us by all means, forestall shame
and discomfort by prompt concession and humble com
pliance. There is no middle ground. The conflict always pre
sents itself according to the parable, and the only alter
natives are manly battle or cowardly surrender. Goethe
puts it concisely and justly —
"You must either soar or stoop,
Fall or triumph, stand or droop ;
You must either serve or govern,
Must be slave or must be sovereign;
Must, in fine, be lock or wedge,
Must be anvil or be sledge."
Is it not a vivid and at the same time a truthful pic
ture which our parable presents to us? On the one hand,
the magnitude of the Christian service with its apparent
disparity of force and work appealing to all that is no
blest and strongest in our manhood; on the other, the
one alternative of cowardly surrender and eternal de
feat. I say the picture is no less accurate and truthful
than vivid. For is not this the choice that life continu
ally offers — a manly acceptance of the challenge to diffi
cult service with resulting nobility of achievement, or a
264

THE WARRING KING
weak surrender with spiritual vassalage and dishonor?
It is triumph or defeat, noble conquest or slavery, per
petual compromise, galling tribute.
Such is the appeal of the parable to our minds and
hearts. Shall we not consider it soberly, thoughtfully,
prayerfully, and entering into trustful alliance with the
infinite power and love of God, discover in the very
greatness of our tasks the pledge of even greater pos
sibilities that lie enfolded within our lives?

265

The Lost Sheep

CHAPTER XXI
The Lost Sheep
THE GOOD SHEPHERD
Matt. 18:12-14; Luke 15:4-7
Text. — li What man of you . . . doth not leave the ninety and
nine . . . and go after that ivhich is lost?" — Luke 15:4
CRITICISM is an exceedingly dangerous
weapon. Like an ill-made gun, its recoil
is often more to be feared than its dis
charge. Particularly is this true of harsh
or censorious criticism. Its most frequent
result is to convict the critic of ignorance or ill will. Yet
the world is full of critics, self-appointed, self-sufficient.
Volunteers for this service are never wanting; the bet
ter the man or the better the cause the more numerous
the critics and the more bitter the criticism. For one
Christ there are always ten thousand critics.
The critics are not, however, altogether without their
use in the world. As a grain of sand or other irritating
substance becoming imbedded in the sensitive tissue of
the oyster causes the formation of the priceless pearl in
self-defense, so the critic, by a false judgment or unjust
condemnation, may call forth a noble utterance of
truth in refutation of the same. Many a vital truth
or principle of action has been but indifferently under
stood tintil some attack of the critics has sounded the
challenge to which devout scholars have responded with
an exposition that has made the truth ever afterwards
as clear as the noonday. So have the critics of the Bible
269

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
ever been the unwilling contributors to a larger knowl
edge and higher appreciation of that richest of all store
houses of divine truth. The spears which they have
aimed at the heart of the gospel have become spurs in
the sides of its defenders, inciting them to greater ex
ertions in behalf of truth.
It was criticism the most ignorant and unworthy that
drew from the lips of Jesus that matchless trio of para
bles recorded in the fifteenth chapter of Luke's Gospel.
The Master by his gracious words and yet more gracious
works had gathered about him a crowd of "publicans
and sinners." They were not a pleasing company of
men and women. Doubtless they were coarse, low, un
promising. Such fellowship would not commend him
to the more respectable and intelligent classes. Naturally
enough, therefore, "the Pharisees and scribes murmured,
saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with
them !"
Had this criticism been peculiar or isolated, had it been
the utterance of a few men at one specific time, it
might have passed without notice. But so far from
being that, Jesus recognizes in it the outcropping of a
wide-spread and perennial criticism upon all Christly
work, a criticism that would be repeated and reechoed in
subsequent ages by those who should call themselves his
disciples, the Christian scribes and Pharisees. It is the
token of a ceaseless antagonism between human and di
vine ideals. It lays bare a very common misunderstand
ing of the spirit and purpose of God in relation to man
that is the secret of all false religion. It touches the
Saviour's mission at a vital point. It betrays the Phari-
seeism, not of that day only but of this day also ; yes, of
all time.
It is always a scandal to highly respectable and relig
ious people that the Christ associates with sinners. Every
manifestation of this Christly spirit, every attempt to
do this Christly work, is sure to evoke severe criticism,
270

THE GOOD SHEPHERD
and that not only from the ungodly and indifferent, but
also and equally from the most highly religious, from
the recognized leaders in the Christian Church. The
Christian worker of to-day who pays marked attention
to the low and rude and sinful quickly incurs the dis
pleasure of the respectable and the pious — the "unco
guid" as Burns has called them. The Salvation Army
and kindred organizations ever find in the criticisms of
Christians a more serious obstacle' to their work than in
the rudeness or violence of the ungodly. So slow are
we to appreciate the spirit and teaching of Jesus !
It is, therefore, because of the universality and per
sistence of this criticism, that had only its beginning with
the scribes and Pharisees, that Jesus deigns to answer it.
And his reply is most complete and thoroughgoing.
His argument, unfolded in three parables, perhaps the
most beautiful and attractive he ever uttered, is at once
clear, cumulative and convincing.
First he sketches briefly and in a few strokes the pic
ture of the shepherd seeking his lost sheep ; then its com
panion piece of the woman searching for her lost coin
until it is found; and he concludes with the complete
story of the prodigal and the drudge. These parables
are not three different pictures of one truth, a mere repe
tition for the sake of emphasis. Each picture illustrates
and enforces a distinct truth or element of the truth ; each
is a separate link in the perfect chain of argument; and,
taken together, they embody the threefold answer which
was necessary to refute the unjust criticism and to ex
pose the error which gave it birth.
The first of these parables, commonly known as the
parable of "The Lost Sheep," will furnish ample sug
gestion for our thought in the present discourse. It is
not a complete story, like so many other parables. It is
rather a literary fragment, a mere sketch, yet so touch
ing in its appeal and so vivid in its suggestion that it
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
has won a recognition from expositors that has often
been denied to other and more complete narratives.
The incident described was one familiar to our Lord's
immediate hearers from personal observation. It is fa
miliar to us from frequent repetition. The sketch has
become a household classic wherever the gospel has been
preached. No need, therefore, to explain it. To add
anything to it were impossible. It is in itself an exqui
site gem of divine truth. I can only take it as the Mas
ter has given it to us, and holding it up before you ask
you to look at it. "You have seen it many times before?"
Then look at it once again and seek, not for some new
lesson, but for a clearer apprehension and more perfect
appreciation of the old lesson, of the only lesson that the
parable teaches.
Were I an artist, gifted with the power to put this par
able in colors upon the canvas, I would represent it as a
twofold picture, after the manner of Raphael's "Trans
figuration." Below and in the background would appear
a flock of ninety and nine sheep feeding quietly and in
safety on the hillside, while the central foreground of
this lower scene would present the figure of the shep
herd toiling painfully through the wilderness, fording
swollen torrents, climbing rugged paths, pressing on
through the underbrush and thorns, to find a single lamb
that has strayed from the fold and is lost in the wild.
Then above all, the crowning scene in the picture, would
be the representation of the shepherd returning from
his successful quest, bearing the rescued lamb triumph
antly on his shoulders, and calling upon his fellow shep
herds to share in his joy, with just a glimpse through the
rifted sky of heaven's rejoicing over a ransomed soul.
And this scene of transcendent gladness should over
shadow that of toil and struggle, even as the old master's
transfiguration scene eclipses while it illuminates the
stricken group at the foot of the mountain.
Clearly the emphasis of the sketch is upon the spirit
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THE GOOD SHEPHERD
of triumphant rejoicing in which it culminates, which
glorifies all the rest and gives it meaning.
In the search there has been severe toil. Not a Httle
risk to life and limb has been incurred. The wilderness
is full of perils for the shepherd as well as for the sheep.
Why, then, does he undertake the search ? Why go to all
this trouble for the sake of a single sheep? You answer
at once, "To save himself from loss. The sheep is his
own, a part of his property. Losing it he would be the
poorer. Finding it he is the richer."
True enough; but that is not the whole story. We
may put the case much more strongly than that. The
whole meaning and purpose of his shepherd life are in
volved in this search and recovery. It is a concrete and
vivid definition of the term, "shepherd." What is a
shepherd for ? To watch the sheep that are safely feed
ing in their pasture or reposing in the fold? No. The
business of the shepherd is to guard the flock from dan
ger, to keep the flock from straying, to rescue any that
have wandered. In our own New England the safe and
well-fenced pastures have made shepherding unneces
sary, hence the figure of the shepherd is unfamiliar to
us. A flock that can care for itself needs no shepherd.
A shepherd that would remain with the safe ones of the
flock while one was astray and exposed to danger would
be no shepherd. So I say the picture given us in this
parable is the necessary interpretation of the shepherd's
office, the apology for his existence as a shepherd.
We do not wonder at the shepherd's joy as he brings
back the lost one. It is joy at the recovery of property
that he feared was lost. It is joy in the addition to his
wealth. It is joy because of calamity averted. But it
is more. It is joy in successful effort. It is the joy of
triumph over threatened adversity, the joy of victory over
difficult circumstance, the joy of purpose fulfilled, the
joy of a flock preserved entire.
And now the scene changes. The Judean shepherd
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
and his flock gradually disappear from view, and in their
place we see the Good Shepherd of the ages. Human
souls are his only wealth. He accounts himself the poor
er for every one that is lost. Infinitely rnore precious in
his sight are they than ever was his flock to the most
faithful and earnest of those hillside watchmen of Pales
tine. Not his idly to content himself with such as re
main quietly within the fold. Not his selfishly to enjoy
the society of congenial spirits. Not his to seek his
own pleasure and satisfaction in the company of the
saved. If they are truly saved they have no need of him,
they will not suffer by his absence.
But there are those who do need him. There are
those who have strayed from the right way, who have
lost their self-respect and the respect of their fellows,
who have become helpless and hopeless. Toward them
his soul goes out in strong yearnings of love and desire.
For them he seeks. With them he pleads. To them he
goes, forsaking all others. To win them, restore them,
save them, he is ready to toil, to suffer and to die. So
long as there are wanderers to be reclaimed, fallen ones
to be uplifted, discouraged ones to be strengthened,
needy ones to be helped, they receive his first care; and
his joy is in their rescue. No effort is too great, no
sacrifice is too appalling, if he can at length bring them
all back in safety and peace to the heavenly fold. To
accomplish this the Good Shepherd gives his life for the
sheep. Here is the truth in a nutshell. Wondrous truth!
The most innumerable host .of saved souls cannot satisfy
the yearnings of divine love so long as a single lost one
wanders from the paths of peace and righteousness. All
the infinite energies of heaven are concentrated, not upon
the rewards and felicities of the good, but upon the re
covery of the bad, upon the repentance and restoration
of sinners. Men may speculate as coolly as they please
about the number of the lost and the probability of their
274

THE GOOD SHEPHERD
being permanently lost, but the Christ, if he misses a
single lamb from the flock, harks away to the wilderness
"until he finds it." Men, religious men, too often give
themselves up selfishly to the companionship of those
who do not need their help, those who are as clean and
cultured, as pious and proper as themselves. The Christ
denies himself such fellowship that he may rescue
others who are lost and perishing. *
A strange thing is it, O scribes and Pharisees, that
the Christ should receive sinners, that he should go out
of his way to seek the company of the low and the vi
cious? Why, that is the very purpose for which he
came! That is the essence of his mission. The mean
ing of his Messiahship, the value of his Christhood, . is
bound up in that. You righteous ones do not need him.
You saved ones can spare him. But the sinners — they
are the ones whom Christ came all the way from heav
en to earth to seek. How it would belittle his charac
ter, how it would stultify his mission, to turn aside from
his quest and give himself up to the society of the
respectable, the pure, the saved !
What unspeakable satisfaction the Almighty must take
in contemplating the host of godly souls who delight in
his worship, who gather from Sabbath to Sabbath in his
house, who move in the select circle of the saints ! What
joy must thrill angelic hearts at the sight of number
less pure and respectable lives that have never given
themselves over to gross sin and uncleanness! So
many Christians seem to think. We scribes and Phari
sees contribute bountifully to the gladness of heaven
in our own estimation. But what says Jesus? "I say
unto you, There shall be joy in heaven over one sinner
that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine righteous
persons, who need no repentance." Think of it! That
one victim of appetite made strong and victorious, that
one incarnation of greed made kind and benevolent, that
one proud, stubborn soul made humble, that one foul and
275

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
unlovely creature made clean, brings more joy to the
heart of the infinite God and his heavenly angels than
all the scribes and Pharisees, all the self-complacent
church-members, all the refined and highly respectable
religionists in the universe.
God made man for perfection — every man. He wants
to see his work perfect. So long as souls live in sin
they are making God's work a failure. His success, his
infinite glory, are bound up in the perfection of his crea
tures. His greatest joy is found in the return of a soul
from sin to righteousness, from misery to blessedness;
for every such saved one brings his work nearer to com
pletion. Am I carrying the thought too far? I take refuge in
the saying of an aged preacher to his younger neighbor,
"Never be afraid of making God appear too good !" That
preacher does not live, no, nor ever has lived, who could
paint the love of God in more glowing colors than those
which Jesus used in the parable of The Lost Sheep. By
comparison with their noblest efforts this is as the sun
beside some smoking and murky candle. It is the pic
ture of sublimest truth which no honest disciple can for
a moment hesitate to acknowledge as divine.
Why, oh, why, are we so unwilling to grasp this truth
with all that is involved in it? The mission of the Christ
was to sinners. The desire of God is toward sinners.
The great purpose of the gospel is embodied in sinners.
To redeem, to rescue, to save, that is the sole aim of
Christianity. Our Lord never had it in mind to form a
select society of the good. He never meant to gather
together the pure and the righteous into a congenial club
to be called the Church and to put them upon a plane by
themselves far above the poor and the lost and the
wretched. Not separation but salvation is the aim of the
gospel. This is its one aim, its only aim. The Church was
not founded to mark a distinction between men, to sep
arate the good from the bad. It was founded to help in
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THE GOOD SHEPHERD
making all men good. The separation will take care of
itself. When the work of the Church has been com
pletely done there will be no distinction.
On the walls of the divine gallery hangs this wonderful
picture of The Shepherd and the Lost Sheep. We de
light to study it and to drink in its marvelous beauty.
And when one asks, "Who is the Shepherd there rep
resented?" we are wont to reply, "Jesus himself is the
Good Shepherd of the parable." "The picture," we say,
"is a portrait of our Lord drawn by himself." True, un
questionably true. But does that reply answer the ques
tion completely and finally? Does it exhaust the mean
ing and lesson of the parable? Is the sketch simply an
argument in self-vindication? I think not.
The mission of the Christ is the mission of the Church ;
it is the mission of every disciple of the Christ. The
meaning of his life is in no wise different from the
meaning of every true life. The duty that rested upon
his shoulders rests upon ours to-day in equal measure.
What he did you and I ought to be doing. What he
did you and I are doing if we have fully understood the
meaning of discipleship. The parable is not a picture;
it is a mirror. In it see the perfect reflection of your
own true self.
As you and I walk along the street, we meet many a
fallen soul; from the face the traces of the divine im
age are nearly gone; all sense of that which is good
and noble is fast slipping away; and we hurry on to
escape the contaminating influence, to seek a more con
genial fellowship, or to join the company of the saints
in God's house ; and how glad we are when we enter the
hallowed atmosphere! But in the very moment when
we are congratulating ourselves that we are not as other
men, nor even as the one besotted wretch whom we have
just met, there comes to our ears the echo of that old re
frain, "There is joy in heaven over one sinner that re-
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
penteth, more than over ninety and nine righteous per
sons, who need no repentance."
That unlovely one, that rude,, profane, repulsive soul,
is the very one that needs us. Toward that one the whole
love and desire of heaven go out. For him God lives
and waits. For him Jesus died. For him the Master
would have us pray and labor and sacrifice ourselves that
by all means we might bring him back to purity and man
hood. What do we here, contentedly watching and count
ing the lambs that are safely within the fold? Out in
the darkness and peril, far away in the wilderness and
storm are lost ones who need the Shepherd's help and
care. And we, many times, are only too glad to let
them remain there if we can but be free from their
presence and from all unpleasant contact with them. Such
a one dies, and we heave a sigh of relief, thinking the
world is the better for his departure. Or such a one
moves from our own community or neighborhood to an
other place far removed from us, and we congratulate
ourselves on lessened responsibility and annoyance. Yet
the salvation of such a soul is more to God and the an
gels than all the beauty of ninety and nine respectable
lives like yours and mine. We rejoice in the fellowship
of the safe and the good, and murmur "Good riddance !"
to the bad and the lost. Does the Good Shepherd so?
Ah, remember, the good shepherd is the only Christian.
You and I are Christians, not according to the measure
of our spotless purity, which may be wholly selfish, but
according to the degree in which we share the work of
Jesus Christ and manifest his spirit.
_ As an appeal of divine love to the heart of the lost
sinner the power of this parable has long been recognized.
In all the wide range of literature it has no parallel from
this point of view ; but its first and most direct message
is to Christian disciples, and this is too often overlooked.
We cannot emphasize too strongly the eager desire of
the Christ for the salvation of the lost; but, doing that,
278

THE GOOD SHEPHERD
we should never forget that the desire of the Christ is
the measure and token of Christian duty, of your duty
and mine. We have not fully learned the lesson of this
parable of The Lost Sheep till there ring in our ears
unceasingly those words of our Lord in which he himself
gathers up the whole thought of the picture and flings
it forth to his hearers, "There is joy in heaven over one
sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine
righteous persons, who need no repentance."

27®

The Lost Coin

CHAPTER XXII
The Lost Coin
|THE PIECE OF MONEY
Luke 15:8-10
Text. — "There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner
that repenteth. " — Luke 15 :10
THE unity of the race is no fiction of philos
ophy. It is an unavoidable verity. The
brotherhood of man is a truth as vital as the
fatherhood of God. To ignore the one is to
stultify the other. And this brotherhood,
this unity, manifests itself in ways that are not always
agreeable. There is a certain identity of nature and
even of character that many of us would gladly
escape, or deny. Outwardly we confess with Paul,
"There is no difference: for all have sinned." Then
Galileo-like we mutter under our breath, "But there is
a difference, a very great difference between different
sinners." Too often we wholly pervert the words of
the apostle, and make them our excuse for seeking out
the most respectable and attractive "sinners," while we
utterly neglect the foul and repulsive, so manifesting a
spirit of arrant hypocrisy that is none the less harmful
because it is in the majority of cases quite unconscious.
This spirit confronts the Master in the midst of his
work and he exposes and answers it in a parable.
The parable of The Lost Sheep answered the cavil
of the critics. It made their murmurs ridiculous by
showing that this seeking of the lost was the very pur-
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
pose for which the Christ should come. It vindicated
the Saviour's mission and put the faultfinders to shame.
But Jesus does not stop there. He cares nothing
for mere self-vindication. He never utters a word
or performs an act of self-defense that does not
spring from some motive looking beyond self or pre
paring the way for a positive blessing to others. He
knows that the criticism of the Pharisees and scribes
is the outgrowth, not of one misconception, but of a chain
of false notions closely linked together. These respect
able and pious critics had failed to understand the mis^
sion of the Saviour and the meaning of religion. But
that was not their only failure. They had also mis
understood the nature of the sinners whom they con
demned. They had missed their true relation to them
selves and to God.
The Pharisee always despises the sinner and puts him
in a wholly different order of creation from himself, the
saint. The old-time distinction of the book of Genesis
between the "sons of God" and the children of men
obtains to this day. We see in one class of men a close
relation to the heavenly Father, and in the other little
more than a higher order of the animal creation. God,
on the other hand, sees in every man a spark of divinity.
In his sight the most degraded and unlovely is a child
of God.
To the parable of The Lost Sheep, therefore, Jesus
adds this second story, the parable of The Lost Coin.
In it he turns wholly away from the vindication of him
self and his mission and makes a strong plea for the
lost ones, the sinners. He does not excuse them nor
make light of their wanderings, but he shows that, how
ever lost and sinful, they are still children of God, as
divine and as precious in the sight of the Creator as
ever their critics were.
Note the displacement of the picturesque shepherd by
the impersonal "woman," the exchange of the living
284

THE PIECE OF MONEY
sheep for the lifeless piece of silver, the reduction of the
number from one hundred to ten, that every distracting
element may be removed and the attention concentrated
upon a single thought. We have here no comparison
or contrast between the lost and the saved. It is not
one over against ninety and nine, or even one in contrast
with nine. It is simply an emphatic declaration of the
intrinsic worth of the lost soul and the supreme joy of
the angels in its salvation. The story gathers up the em
phasis of the three stories and centers it upon one point.
Is the sinner lost? Yes; but he is a lost sheep. Is he
lost? Yes; but a lost coin. Is he lost? Yes; but a
lost son. Before, the focus of the parable was upon the
seeker; now it is upon the sought.
A change of character is not a change of nature. Sin
may drface the image of God; it can never e/face it.
The divine spark exists in every soul. Dormant it may
be. Concealed deeply beneath an accumulation of
earthiness and sensuality it often is. Nevertheless it is
not extinguished nor can be. And that spark of divine
life is infinitely precious. To bring it to light and to
rekindle it into a growing flame will repay all the labor
and sacrifice of men or of angels. Yes, it is worth the
utmost effort of God himself. On this thought every
detail of our parable centers.
How vividly the divine Artist represents the eagerness
of the Almighty for the recovery of the sinner by dwell
ing on the several steps of the woman's search! "Doth
she not (a) light a lamp, and (b) sweep the house, and
(c) seek diligently until (d) she find it? These
successive steps find their perfect parallel in the workings
of divine Providence for the redemption of men.
"Doth she not light a lamp?" All through the ages
has not God's eternal truth flashed down amid human er
ror and pagan darkness ? Never has the world been left
without at least some faint glimmer of heavenly light.
The "candle of the Lord" has been shining from the
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
beginning with an inextinguishable flame. The "truth as
it is in Jesus," the fact that "God so loved the world,
that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever be
lieveth in him should not perish, but have everlasting
life," the faithful saying that "Christ Jesus came into
the world to save sinners," — this is the light which God
employs. How brightly that light shines to-day ! How infinitely
more glorious is this lamp of divine truth than the blaz
ing sun at noonday! Surely no soul in this land ever
perishes for want of light. If any are lost, it must be
in spite of the clearest knowledge of truth. If our lives
are dark, it is not because there is no light, but because
we shut out the light which is shining with resplendent
brightness all about us, because we will not admit it in
to our lives.
"Doth she not. . . sweep the house?" Revelation is not
the only force or means employed for our salvation.
After the giving of the light comes the effort to make
the light effectual. The pieces of silver had fallen upon
the rush-covered floor, and until the rushes or other ob
jects were removed the brightest light could not reveal
it to the seeker's eye.
So the truth of God shines clear and bright ; but many
things intervene to shut the light from the soul. There
are besetting sins, personal ambitions, masterful desires,
overcrowding cares, or any one of a thousand other
earthly matters. Men permit themselves to become sur
rounded by evil associates and associations, to become
the slaves of ungodly habit, to be wholly occupied with
things low and unworthy, so that they are insensible to
the persuasions of divine truth.
Then God comes in some special providence, causing
a disturbance in business, bringing a personal bereave
ment or failure, turning the life into new channels, set
ting at naught the plans and purposes of the wayward
child. By one method or another these earthly environ-
286

THE PIECE OF MONEY
ments are upturned and scattered till the light of God
shines clear and bright upon the soul. Then old ques
tions take on a new meaning. Old truth comes home
with new power. The divine word awakens a response
in the heart. The light is flashed back from the re
pentant, submissive soul, and in that moment the Creator
finds and recovers the lost one.
Again. Doth she not . . . seek diligently?" Ah, yes,
the recovery of lost souls has not been accomplished with
out diligent seeking. Think of all the labor and sacri
fice that has been undertaken for the redemption of hu
manity. Trace the blood-marked footsteps of the Sa
viour by the shores of Galilee, through the streets of
Jerusalem, on the slopes of Olivet. Go with him to the
Garden of Gethsemane and up Mount Calvary. Think
of the long succession of /prophets, apostles, martyrs.
Add to this all the vast enginery of the Christian Church,
all the varied lines of Christian service, everything that
has been done in every land and in every age to bring
the gospel to men and to bring men to the gospel, all
missionary and philanthropic enterprise, all refining
and civilizing influences, all truly unselfish effort to uplift
mankind. In all that marvelous story of the Jesuit missions
among the savages of North America, in the labors of a
Moffat and a Livingstone in the darkness of Africa, in
the toil and sufferings of Newell and the Judsons in Bur-
mah, in the consecrated labors of General Booth and
his aids in London and other cities of Great Britain and
America, in the tireless efforts of Miss Frances Willard
and her army of Christian women devoted to the work
of rescuing the victims of intemperance — in these and
ten thousand similar activities see the incarnation of the
divine Saviour eagerly seeking for lost souls. Is the
search fruitless ? Will it ever be fruitless ? No, no, the
seeking of God can never be fruitless.
To the three steps already taken is always added the
287

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
fourth, "Until she find it." The quest of the divine
Spirit will not cease till the lost is found, the sinner re
stored. And the eagerness of the seeking is only equalled
by the joy of the finding. "When she hath found it, she
calleth together her friends and neighbors, saying,
Rejoice with me, for I have found the piece which I had
lost. Even so, I say unto you, there is joy in the pres
ence of the angels of God over one sinner. that repent
eth." Observe how the comparative form of the pre
ceding parable here gives place to a positive and direct
statement. There the one was set against the ninety
and nine. Here we see only the one piece recovered
as the cause of joy. The great fact of the divine joy
in the salvation of a sinner is made more vivid by this
simplicity of expression. The thought is withdrawn
from all external matters and centered upon one truth.
Whenever a lost soul is saved, heaven rejoices. The
whole force of the celestial world is concentered upon
the seeking; all its joy bursts forth at the finding.
When some poor, besotted wretch is picked up from
the gutter and induced to try never so feebly for a sober
life; when some fallen woman is rescued from the paths
of sin, and, softened and inspired by the sweet influ
ences of sisterly love, starts out in a new life of purity
and hope; when some hardened criminal, touched by
the power of Christian kindness, makes even the most im
perfect effort toward reform; there may be little joy in
the Church, for we do not welcome such very cordially
into our fellowship; we do not feel that they add much
to our strength or reputation or influence ; we prefer to
hold them at arm's length for a long time; but there is
joy in every true and Christly soul, there is a song
in every Godlike heart, and the glad song is taken up
and rolled back again by the countless host of ransomed
ones, and the very angels around the throne catch the
refrain and join to swell the anthem of praise and glad
ness. We are glad when some clean and cultured and
288

THE PIECE OF MONEY
influential citizen takes his first communion; but when
"Ash Barrel Jimmy" or one of his ilk is brought half
drunk into a Salvation Army meeting and is sobered and
cleaned and saved, the Hallelujah Chorus is sung by the
archangels. Now what is the meaning of all this? Why the light
ing of the lamp? Why the sweeping of the house?
Why the diligent seeking? Why the persistence to the
end? Why the joy at finding? How shall we explain
these things? They need no explanation in the story.
Every detail is perfectly natural, perfectly clear to the
mind of the most childish reader. Each is just what we
should expect. The woman had lost a piece of silver, one
of the precious metals, a considerable part of her little
store of wealth. She could ill afford to spare it from
her slender hoard. To incur such a loss meant a great
deal to her. The possibility of loss arouses deep anx
iety; the recovery causes corresponding joy.
When we come to the spiritual interpretation the mat
ter is not so simple. It is difficult for us to realize this
phase of the divine character. To think that God really
suffers loss when a soul strays from the path of rec
titude, that he is really anxious and eager for its re
covery — how many of us ever rise to such a conception?
We. coolly theorize about the probable number of the
saved. We calmly discuss whether it be worth while to
put forth this or that effort for the salvation of men,
and whether certain classes of our fellow creatures are
open to spiritual influences. Yes, we even consign the
great majority of the race to endless perdition with only
a superficial sigh of regret. And all the while God is
working, agonizing, sacrificing for their salvation.
We picture the infinitely loving God as a cold and in
different Judge, thinking much of the dignity of his
law, concerned above all else for the majesty of his own
will. We represent him as with perfect self-satisfac
tion punishing and driving into permanent exile those
289

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
who have disobeyed him and wandered from his fold.
Not such is the portrait of the Father that Jesus has
sketched for us. He would have us believe, he would
have us understand, that every soul is precious in the
sight of God. Not one can go astray without causing
him sorrow and loss. As some one has phrased it, "The
lostness of the sinner is God's loss, and God suffers
more than the sinner by the separation."
But we have not told the whole story when we say
that it is a bit of precious metal that is lost. It is more.
It is a coin — a coin of the realm. It is not merely a
piece of silver of fluctuating value, dependent for its
worth upon the state of the market. It is silver minted
and molded into money. Its value is fixed by the stamp
upon it. It bears the image and superscription of the
emperor. It is designed not simply as a medium of
exchange, but equally for a testimony to the royalty and
right of him whose likeness is impressed upon it.
Is the value of a coin lessened by being lost? Is the
dollar in the gutter worth less than the dollar in the
pocket? Of course not! True, it may become rusty
and dusty; it may be tarnished and to some extent de
faced or encrusted with filth; but it is a coin still, as
valuable and as standard as when it lay in the purse or
adorned the person of its owner. It is not the bright
ness and beauty of a coin that determines its value, nor
yet is it the place where it lies, but the metal of which
it is made and the figures stamped upon it.
Here is the key to the parable in a single word. Here
is the focus of every detail in the story. The eagerness
in seeking, the joy in finding, both point to the unspeak
able value of the human soul, to its essential divinity.
"A lost s.oul," you say. Yes ; but a soul none the less,
a soul made in the image of God,, just as divine and just
as precious as the soul that is not lost. "Scribes and
Pharisees," "publicans and sinners," what are they?
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THE PIECE OF MONEY
Two different classes of beings wholly distinct and un
related? Two independent and divergent products of
moral evolution? No, they are coins from the same
mint, of equal worth, identical in value. The one may
be polished and bright, the other soiled with the dust
of the floor, but they are stamped with the same like
ness, they represent the same measure of wealth in the
kingdom of heaven.
Can it be possible? — that repulsive, sin-stained, unlove
ly creature, of the same order of being with ourselves
who are so clean and so attractive? That profane and
godless wretch, can he have anything in common with
us who delight in the worship of God's house and who
are very careful never to transgress God's law? That
selfish, sordid person, can he be even remotely akin to
us who are so benevolent and kind? So we, the scribes
and Pharisees of to-day, often ask. And the Christ of
to-day, as of old, replies, "Who made thee to differ from
another ?" "Think gently of the erring one !
And let us not forget,
However darkly stained by sin,
He is our brother yet.
Heir of the same inheritance,
Child of the self-same God ;
He hath but stumbled in the path
We have in weakness trod."
As the parable of The Lost Sheep emphasizes the
truth that the great work of Christ in every age is to save
the lost, this parable of The Lost Coin teaches us that
the lost and the saved are one in nature and value. The
worth of a man is not determined by outward condition
or accident. We may admire the mere adornments of
the man. We may applaud physical strength, courage,
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
or achievement. We may set great store by intellectual
acquisition. We may pride ourselves overmuch on re
finement, purity, uprightness. We may flatter ourselves
because of our piety and religiousness. All these things
deserve attention. They are essential elements in our
salvation. They are of no little importance to the com
fort and welfare of the race. But far above the best
of them, of infinitely greater value than all, is the divine
fact of manhood. It is an immeasurably greater thing
to be a man than to be a philosopher; greater to be a
man than to be a reformer ; yes, greater to be a man even
than to be a Christian. To be made of the precious
metal, to be stamped with the image of the King of
kings, that is the vital thing. And he who bears that
image is never to be despised or despaired of however
he may be soiled aria! battered with the world's rough
handling. The brotherhood of man is a great reality; and we
should never let the greatness of it overshadow its real
ity. It is easy to wax eloquent over our responsibility
for the remote nations and tribes of the earth, to stir
up emotional sympathy for some oppressed Armenians
or starving Hindoos. That is the greatness of this
brotherhood. But to recognize our own immediate kin
ship with the erring and the disagreeable in our own
community, that is the reality of it which is not so easy
or so acceptable.
The sword of the Spirit as it flashes from this parable
is two-edged. It pierces Pharisees on the one hand and
sinners on the other. Whoever is unwilling to be reck
oned in the one category must take his place in the other
or he will miss the message that lies in this story. To
Pharisees it speaks a message of brotherliness ; to sin
ners a message of self-respect. To both it proclaims
the divine sonship of every man — the fatherhood of God
and the brotherhood of his children as mutually essen
tial to the interpretation of the gospel. We have missed
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THE PIECE OF MONEY
the one great purpose of the story if we have not
been drawn away from all distinctions of character and
attainment, if we have not discovered that these are,
after all, but accidents, and learned that the most pre
cious thing in the universe, the true coin of the kingdom
of heaven is the human soul.

293

The Lost Son

CHAPTER XXIII
The Lost Son
THE PRODIGAL AND THE DRUDGE
Luke 15:11-32
Text.—" This my son . . . <was lost, and is found. "—Luke 15:24
NOT what we do is the measure of life's worth.
Not what we fail to do is the measure of
its worthlessness. More important than
the doing or the not doing is the spirit that
controls our life, the motive that inspires
our action or causes us to refrain from acting. God
liness does not consist solely or chiefly in upright
conduct, in faultless character, in pious manners and
religious observances. It consists in love — love to God
that manifests itself in love to all his creatures. It
consists in love by whatsoever means and in whatsoever
forms revealed. Love is the fulfilment of the law; and
love is also the very essence of the gospel.
"If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels,
but have not love, I am become sounding brass, or a
clanging cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy,
and know all mysteries and all knowledge ; and if I have
all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love,
I am nothing. And if I bestow all my goods to feed the
poor, and if I give my body to be burned, but have not
love, it profiteth me nothing."
This is the direct and epigrammatic way in which St.
Paul puts the very truth that Jesus embodied in the story
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
commonly known as the parable of The Prodigal Son.
Jesus would teach us, and Paul would emphasize the
truth, that holiness and sin are not primarily contrasted
forms of outward conduct. They are contrasted spirits,
and whatever grows from these. Holiness is love and
such conduct as love inspires. The essence of sin, on
the other hand, is not disregard of respectability or
neglect of the conventional forms and services of re
ligion, it is not even the infraction of moral law, but
lovelessness. Loveless respectability, loveless piety,
loveless morality are as really sinful and as destructive of
character as is the conduct which we brand disgraceful.
Pharisees and scribes had been shocked at the associ
ation of Jesus with the lower and less refined classes.
They had murmured, saying, "This man receiveth sin
ners, and eateth with them!" They had flattered them
selves that "sinners" belong to a peculiar social class,
distinguished by certain habits and occupations and fail
ings. The Master replies to their criticism with three
fold completeness.
First, in the parable of The Lost Sheep, he vindicates
himself and his mission. Then, in the parable of The
Lost Coin, he asserts the equal worth of all souls in the
sight of God. Now, in the parable of The Lost Son, he
convicts the critics of being sinners equally with those
whom $iey were so ready to condemn. He shows them
that, however great may be the outward difference be
tween themselves and the "sinners," so called, however
moral and religious they, the Pharisees, may be, they
are wholly wanting in the spirit of love which alone is
acceptable to God. If they are pious, it is formal piety.
If they are respectable, it is conventional respectability.
If they are honest, it is because they know that honesty
is the best policy. It they are pure, it is because purity
wins popular respect. If they are scrupulous in the ful
filment of religious duties, regular in their attendance at
temple services, liberal in paying their tithes, careful in
298

THE PRODIGAL AND THE DRUDGE
the observance of the Sabbath, particular about unnum
bered trifles, it is because they deem all these things nec
essary to the salvation of their souls. They are not
actuated in any of these things by a true and hearty
love for God or godliness.
While the parable has become from the beauty and
simplicity of the story a matchless appeal to sinners in
the most literal interpretation of the word, that is not
its only purpose, nor even its chief purpose. The princi
pal figure in the picture as presented by Jesus is not the
prodigal but the elder brother. Or, to speak more ac
curately, the two brothers are placed side by side in con
trast with the father. It is the lovelessness of sinful
men over against the yearning love of God. The great
sin of the younger son is not desertion of his father's
house, extravagant and perhaps intemperate or immoral
living, unworthy and degrading occupations, but scorn
of the father's love which was revealed in these. And
the elder brother, with all his respectability and drudg
ing faithfulness shows himself to be actuated by the same
spirit. See how the whole parable is framed to present this
truth most clearly.
First, we have a sketch of the younger son. We hear
his rude demand for a division of the property. We see
him leaving his home and taking his journey to a far
country. What is there wrong in all this? Nothing in
the acts themselves. Abraham, the saint of antiquity,
did the same, and we praise him for it. Not the mere
demand and departure, but the manner of doing these
things and the motive inspiring the acts are what con
demn the young man. He is unloving himself and he
does not appreciate his father's love. He wants to get
as far away as possible from that father. He thinks he
can have no real pleasure till he is out of his father's
sight and beyond the hearing of his voice.
'Nor does he think of returning till he is compelled by
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
hunger. He plunges into a selfish, loveless life. He
spends his substance in riotous living. Doubtless chums
and companions were numerous enough while his money
lasted, but friends he had none. Without love himself,
he inspires no love in others. So when his money is
gone the companions of his better days disappear and he
is left to shift for himself.
At length a crisis is reached. Starvation stares him,
in the face. He has had his fun. He has seen the world.
And this is the end of it. As he sits there among the
swine, not daring to take even so much as a husk or
carob pod to stay the cravings of his hunger, "he comes
to himself." Adversity is a wonderful eye-opener. Ne
cessity is the mother of common sense. The insanity
plea is as old as sin ; but, as Dr. Barker said at the Gui-
teau trial, "Moral insanity is wickedness."
His insanity cured, not by medicine but by discipline,
he sees the real foolishness of his course. But mark,
there is no repentance for his sin, no upspringing of love
for his injured father, no true regret for his own in
gratitude. Those who make this an example of true
repentance read something into the story that Jesus never
put there. It is simply the desire of a hungry man for
something to eat. "How many hired servants of my
father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish
here with hunger !" It is a question between return and
starvation, and he is not quite ready to starve. "Humble-
pie" is better than nothing at all to eat. Men like the
prodigal are not the stuff that heroes and martyrs are
made of. So he says to himself, "I will arise and go
to my father, and will say unto him, . . . Make me as one
of thy hired servants" (i. e., Let me have bread enough
and to spare).
The young man had as yet no appreciation of his fath
er's love. True, he thought up a nice little speech about
his unworthiness and sinning against heaven, because he
imagined that would be necessary in order to win his
300

THE PRODIGAL AND THE DRUDGE
father's favor; but he was preparing to add another in
sult to paternal affection by asking for a servant's place
in the home of his childhood.
This is not repentance, but reform. It is the return
to respectability by one who has discovered that riot
ous wickedness does not pay. A man cannot procras
tinate when he is starving and a vision of plenty arises
before him., Most naturally therefore, "He arose, and
came to his father."
Now observe the contrast between the selfish indif
ference of the son and the earnest, longing love of the
father. See how eagerly the father waits and watches
for his return. "And while he was yet afar off, his
father saw him." All through the long weeks and months
of the youth's absence that father's heart had been going
out to him in love, his eyes had been strained to catch
the first sight of his return. At last he comes and the
father seeing him at a distance cannot restrain himself
a moment. "He ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed
him again and again." The son is ragged! Never
mind. He is filthy and unkempt! What of that? He
is the son, the long-lost son, and the father's love and
joy are unbounded.
Here, for the first time, the father's love seems to
make an impression upon the heart of the son. He be
gins his carefully prepared speech, "Father, I have
sinned against heaven, and in thy sight: I am no more
worthy to be called thy son." And there he stops. He
can go no further. He cannot insult such love, he can
not turn his back on such a welcome by asking a ser
vant's place. Never before had he understood the na
ture of that father's love. Now it overwhelms and con
quers him. He is miserable, helpless, destitute. He can
not requite such kindness. The only return that he can
make is to receive it in the spirit in which it is bestowed ;
and this he does. ,
But the end of love is not yet. The wanderer is wel-
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
corned; he must be restored. "Bring forth quickly the
best robe, and put it on him ; and put a ring on his hand,
and shoes on his feet; and bring forth the fatted calf,
and kill it, and let us eat, and make merry." See the
climax of love. The prodigal is received just as though
he had been a loving son absent on duty and winning
great honors for the family.
Nor is the picture overdrawn by so much as a single
line. That is precisely the manner in which God re
ceives the sinner. First, a Welcome; sin is forgiven;
transgression is freely pardoned. Then the sinner is
restored, cleansed, sanctified. All the joy and freedom
and honor of sonship are his.
There is, however, another figure on the canvas that
remains to be studied. It is that of the elder son. He
has remained at home and conducted himself in a very
proper and decorous fashion. None of the neighbors
have ever spoken ill of him, for all have looked upon
him as a model son. He has been held up as a pattern
to many another young man who has showed symptoms
of restlessness. But has he gladdened his father's heart?
Has he afforded him comfort and sympathy as he grieved
over the absence of the younger son? Not at all.
If he has ever spoken of the absent one it has always
been with a tone of superiority and contempt, and with
words of scorn. He has received every tale of wanton
ness and riot as "just what was to be expected from such
a fellow," and every story of want and poverty as the
Jatural and righteous reward of such folly.
As for himself, he is diligent and zealous. He work;,
hard and with a dogged sort of faithfulness. He ren
ders the mechanical, unloving service of a slave. Why
did he stay at home ? Because he knew that in the long
run it would be more profitable than going away. It
was also much more respectable. It was wiser in every
way. But all the while he felt that his brother was hav
ing the best of it so far as real enjoyment was concerned.
302

THE PRODIGAL AND THE DRUDGE
True, the youth was spending his patrimony, but then
he was seeing life, he was having a good time,
while himself, the thrifty elder brother, was laying up
money by losing pleasure.
Read the story once more and see how this spirit re
veals itself. "His elder son was in the field." You
do not catch him wasting his time looking down the
road and watching for the return of the graceless young
scamp who had gone off so long ago. There has been
loss enough already and worry enough on his account.
Better give all his time and energy to repairing the wastes
and improving what remains of the property.
Mark the contrast between the attitude of this son and
the father. "Now his elder son was in the field" —
"While he was yet afar off, his father saw him."
The father eager, hopeful, ever watching for the prod
igal's return — the brother wholly indifferent and think
ing only of work, work, everlasting work.
In the course of his work he happens to approach the
house and he hears the sound of merriment and joy and
asks what it means. "Thy brother is come; and thy
father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath receiv
ed him safe and sound." The servants are infected with
the father's joyful spirit. Does the elder son catch the
enthusiasm? Does he rush in to greet his brother and
welcome him back again ? Not by any means. On the con
trary, he is angry that all this fuss should be made over
the fellow's return. Why, it is simply putting a pre
mium upon profligacy ! It is encouraging the young man
in his evil course. The boy never was good for any
thing to work before he went away and he will probably
be worth less than ever now. For the elder brother can
think of nothing but work. That is his ideal of righteous
ness and manhood and duty.
Then "his father came out2 and entreated him. But
he answered and said to his father, Lo, these many years
do / serve thee (as though he had been a servant all the
303

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
time instead of a son), and / never transgressed a com
mandment of thine." You see it is all service and obedi
ence; not a word about love or filial kindness or sym
pathy. "And yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I
might make merry with my friends." In other words,
"I have slaved and drudged and have had no pleasure.
I have sacrificed the true joy of my life to work for you.
although I might have been having a good time like this
other fellow." "But when this thy son (he does not say,
my brother), when this thy son came, who hath devour
ed thy living (he thought more of living than of loving),
. . . thou killedst for him the fatted calf."
Do you not see how the real spiritual kinship of the
two brothers betrays itself unconsciously even while the
elder makes no acknowledgment in words? The stay-
at-home brother is not a whit more loving than the prod
igal. Nor has he any higher ideal of righteousness.
Both the boys knew that to stay at home was the more
profitable course financially and morally, and both
thought that there was more real happiness in going
away. At home was drudgery, self-sacrifice, work.
Abroad were life and pleasure. It was only a question
as to whether the game was worth the candle. The
younger thought it was, the older thought it was not.
The elder son, I say, was just as unloving as the young
er. It was no pleasure to him to be with his father. He
shows no appreciation of the happy home and the father's
affection. He does not realize that his interests and the
father's are identical. If the contrast between the prod
igal and the father is sharp, that between the drudge
and the father is equally sharp.
To the complaining murmur of the son, the father
replies, "Son, thou art ever with me (he at least finds
joy in having the son at home), and all that is mine
is thine. , But it was meet to make merry and be glad :
for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again ; and was
lost, and is found." The very exaggerations of speech
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THE PRODIGAL AND THE DRUDGE
and the omission of any hint at desertion and unkindness
testify to the boundless love of the father and his joy
in the return of his son.
Again the picture is true to the life ; for while we are
often very much concerned lest the sinner shall not be
sufficiently conscious of and repentant for his sins, the
one desire of the heavenly Father is for the sinner's
return and recovery. Not to make men feel that they
have sinned, that they are miserable and unworthy crea
tures, but to win them back from sin and to restore them
to the complete joy of home and sonship is the great
aim of the gospel.
Possibly some one may feel that I have turned aside
from the central thought of the parable in thus dwelling
at length upon the picture of the elder brother. I know
that he is usually made a secondary figure, yes, that he
is often spoken of as an example of right action in the
main, and that the prodigal is brought to the fore as the
chief personage in the story. I know that for ages the
Church of Christ has taken this beautiful and significant
parable and has hurled it at outside sinners as though it
were intended for them alone. But that only proves be
yond dispute the continued existence of this elder-
brotherly spirit. It only goes to show that we, we who
call ourselves Christians, need to study the parable and to
apply its teachings more honestly to ourselves. We call
it the parable of The Prodigal Son. The parable of The
Drudge, would be nearer the truth. I have called it the
parable of The Lost Son and I have not specified which
son may claim the title.
If the prodigal represents the irreligious sinner, the
elder brother represents the religious sinner. It is the un
loving spirit of publican and Pharisee alike in contrast
with the loving spirit of God and godliness. The true
spirit of sonship, says the parable,, is not drudging ser
vice, however faithful or fruitful, but love and sympathy
with the father. The test of sonship is brotherliness.
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
"If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is
a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath
seen, cannot love God whom he hath not seen."
How many of us there are who think that religion and
righteousness consist in doing something! We are en
tirely satisfied with ourselves because we believe we are
doing the things that will please God. We live very
proper lives. We serve God, being exceedingly care
ful to perform all the recognized duties and to attend to
all the outward acts of religion, although many times we
find this service a burdensome cross. And we do not
transgress his commandments, staining our lives with
sin and impurity. We are righteously indignant because
some of our neighbors neglect to do these right things;
they are irreligious, and, worse than that, they are posi
tively sinful; they defy the laws of respectability and
morality. They have left the Father's house and we feel
that between us and them there is a great gulf which we
are by no means anxious that they should cross again.
Certainly we would not have them cross it until they are
fully sensible of their wrong-doing and have thoroughly
reformed. All the while God is saying, "It is not deeds nor creeds
that I want, but love." Loveless service is no better than
open sin. The father was glad when the prodigal re
turned; why? Was it because he would now, work on
the old farm? Because he would have two boys to help
him with the chores instead of one? No, it was because
he loved the boy, and he wanted his love in return. He
could rejoice even in the poverty and hunger that the
lad had experienced if the spirit of love had by their
means been rekindled in his heart.
So, to-day, God desires above everything else that we
should love him, that we should enter into such fellowship
with the divine love that we should love everything and
everybody that God loves. He knows that with the
spirit of love in the heart all else that is good will fol-
306

THE PRODIGAL AND THE DRUDGE
low in due order and in good time. He can do without
our service, but without our love neither his heart can
be satisfied nor our own highest perfection and blessing
attained. Great is respectability. Great are refinement and
culture. Great are piety and propriety. Great is benev-
plent activity. But greater than all these, the greatest
thing in earth or in heaven is love.

307

Prayer, Not a Form
but a Force

CHAPTER XXIV
Prayer, Not a Form
but a Force
THE FRIEND AT MIDNIGHT
Luke 11:5-8
Text. — " Because of his importunity he ivill arise and give him
as many as he needeth. " — Luke 11:8
WHAT is prayer? Is it a mere religious
ceremony? A duty to be performed be
cause God has commanded it? A part
of an orderly and well arranged ritual
that gives dignity to the worship of God ?
Or is it a sort of magical charm by means of which the
favored children of God may obtain gifts of all kinds
without effort on their own part or reason on the part
of the Giver? Or again, is it the natural expression of
human need and desire, a necessary link in the chain
that connects the human with the divine, a perfectly
rational method of obtaining blessings^ whether spiritual
or material, from the heavenly Father?
In all religious thought and service prayer holds a
recognized place, but its relation to religion and life
finds many and diverse interpretations. Even among
Christian people ideas of prayer vary widely. We hear
from the pulpits of to-day a great variety of views
upon the subject, all of which may be included under
the three interpretations already suggested. There are
Christians to whom prayer is nothing but a religious
form, proper and necessary, but artificial and of limited
worth. Others look upon prayer as a sort of Aladdin's
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
lamp that brings all manner of uncaused and unmerited
blessings. Still others see in it the working of a defi
nite spiritual law, the natural expression of desire that
works for its own answer.
It goes without saying that the value of prayer in the
life of any individual will be largely determined by the
view of prayer which he holds. But that is not all. The
meaning and value of religion itself are vitally involved
in this matter of prayer. Spiritual growth and efficiency
hinge upon right views of the subject. False notions
of prayer hinder the full enjoyment of power. Hence
it is exceedingly important that we should discover and
accept the true ideal of prayer if we desire to make real
progress in the religious life and to achieve worthy re
sults in the service of the Master.
Is it strange, then, that the subject of prayer should
repeatedly come to the front in the teaching of Jesus?
It certainly would be strange if he had failed to empha
size by frequent mention a topic so vital to the life of the
Church that was to spring from the seeds of truth that
he was sowing. We are not, therefore, surprised to find
three striking parables devoted to the illustration of this
theme, not to speak of the numerous more direct ex
positions. The parable of The Friend at Midnight is
the first of this group of three, and is a general interpre
tation of the meaning of prayer and its relation to life.
Let us note the setting of the parable, for that will help
us to determine its precise meaning.
Disciples had come to the Master with the request,
"Lord, teach us to pray, even as John also taught his
disciples" ; and Jesus in response had given what we
know as "The Lord's Prayer." He does not, however,
stay with that. He adds our parable, and continues with
a concise expression of the law of asking and receiving,
after which he concludes with an argument to show the
willingness of God to fulfil the highest desires of his
children. 312

THE FRIEND AT MIDNIGHT
The request of the disciples indicated a false notion
regarding prayer. We may not say, perhaps, that they
looked upon it solely in the light of a religious ceremony,
deriving its significance from the authority of their
leader, but we are sure that they placed undue emphasis
upon the element of form. What they desired was a
form of prayer. "Lord,, teach us how to pray," is the
literal meaning of their request.
What was Jesus' answer? We do not know the pre
cise words he used. We only know that he so impressed
his hearers with the supreme importance of the spirit
of prayer that they forgot his words, and the two reports
of the model prayer differ essentially one from the other
in form. More than this, both reports are so lacking
in completeness and rhetorical finish that when the
Church wished to introduce the Lord's Prayer into her
ritual, scholarly ecclesiastics were obliged to take the
fragments given us in the Gospels and weave them to
gether, adding to them a fitting conclusion so that the
prayer might have sufficient form and dignity for public
use. The aim of Jesus in this entire discourse is not to teach
his disciples how to pray, but rather to teach them to
pray. And so successful is he that henceforth in their
minds. the spirit of prayer is supreme, and the form of
prayer takes its natural and subordinate place.
The fragmentary outline of prayer he follows with a
word picture of which these are the salient points:
A certain householder is surprised by the unexpected
arrival of a friend from a distance late at night, and at
a moment when his larder happens to be empty. The
laws of Oriental hospitality require that he should offer
him refreshment before retiring. To fail in this would
be to offer his friend an unpardonable insult. What is
to be done? Why, borrow, of course! The circum
stances do not admit of doubt or hesitation. So off he
goes to the house of a neighbor, wakens him by knock-
313

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
ing and, explaining the situation, asks the loan of three
loaves. At first and for some time the neighbor refuses
to be disturbed, but the householder will not be put off.
With an earnestness that admits of no denial he contin
ues knocking. Every minute the raps become louder
and his demands more noisy, until at length from sheer
weariness the neighbor rises and gives him all that he
asks. From first to last the picture is perfectly natural. The
sense of imperative need growing out of the situation
in which he is placed inspires the householder's request,
determines its form and justifies its persistence without
any premeditation or conscious process of thought on his
part. That his effort was successful follows as a matter
of course;. There was no time for him to supply the
need front his own resources by making bread, and there
was no opportunity to buy, for no shops were open at
midnight. He must therefore ask it as a favor ; and the
circumstances constitute a claim on neighborly kindness
which may reasonably expect a favorable response.
"Lord, teach us to pray," say the disciples. And Jesus
replies, in effect, "Why, prayer is not a matter for teach
ing and learning ; it is a spontaneous expression of need
or desire, simple, natural, rational. Just look at this
householder. He illustrates all the elements of true
prayer, yet he had no need of a teacher. He does it
by instinct. His need is his only instructor."
For us, too, this householder is the object-lesson re
garding prayer. We may find in him a perfect illustra
tion of the spirit and meaning of prayer quite as suffi
cient for modern life and thought as for the ancient.
The consciousness of imperative need which we are our
selves unable to supply will inspire the spirit and deter
mine the form of all prayer. It will also furnish a
reasonable warrant for expecting an answer to our pray
er. The argument from the general kindness of men to
the infinitely greater kindness of God as manifested in
314

THE FRIEND AT MIDNIGHT
his providence is logical and affords a rational basis foe
belief in the power and efficacy of prayer.
Now, as ever, errors regarding prayer tend towards
two extremes. On the one hand are those who think
chiefly of the form of prayer, and to whom it is pre
eminently a religious exercise having its end in itself.
On the other hand are those to whom prayer is a sort of
fetish by means of which all the resources of Omnipo
tence are placed at the disposal of their wishes.
An eccentric preacher has said, "Some Christians are
unwilling to pray in public because, as they say, they
have not the gift of prayer." But what is "the gift of
prayer"? It is beginning with "The Omnipotent and
the Omniscient and the Omnipresent," and ending with
"the everlasting to everlasting, Amen." Now the only
man in Bible times who had the gift of prayer according
to this notion of it was Solomon. He made an eloquent
prayer at the dedication .of the temple. But, after all,
Solomon's piety was of a more than doubtful quality.
The prayers of the real Bible saints were without form
or comeliness. Those godly souls wanted something
and they asked for it in the simplest and most direct
fashion. The prayers of Jesus were unstudied utter
ances of strong desire, usually very brief, and always
without rhetorical form. Not one of them fulfils the
modern ideals; yet we must recognize them as model
prayers. We can never know the true meaning and value of
prayer till we break away from this slavery to forms and
phrases. We must make the spirit of prayer supreme
in our minds. There must be a deep sense of need, an
overmastering desire. These must be great enough
wholly to overshadow all thought of form. When, like
the man in the parable, we feel an imperative need press
ing upon us which we are unable to meet from our own
resources, we will not trouble ourselves much about
315

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
the exact form of words with which to express that need
to Him who can supply it.
But if formalism destroys the value and stultifies the
meaning of prayer at one extreme, fetishism is no less
fatal at the other extreme. There are those who talk
about prayer as though it were a charm which the Al
mighty has given to certain favored children by means
of which they may obtain any gift they desire without
effort on their own part or even reasonable necessity.
The self-evident failure of many so-called prayers to
produce the desired results renders this theory of prayer
absurd to the rational mind. Such a notion finds no
support in Jesus' teaching about prayer as embodied in
our parable. That commends itself to every thoughtful
reader by its perfect reasonableness, and leads directly
to his statement of the general law of asking and receiv
ing that follows.
In contrast with the excess of formalism on the one
hand and the folly of fetishism on the other, Jesus' pic
ture of prayer emphasizes above all things else the
thought of naturalness. It is the expression of that in
stinctive spirit which prompts the child to ask the sup
ply of its needs from the parent or sends any one of us
to a friend when we want a favor. It accords with the
daily observed laws of nature and of life.
While the householder embodies the spirit of true
prayer alike in his earnestness and his persistence, the
subsequent explanation of our Lord, as well as the in
stant judgment of our own intelligence, makes it clear
that we are not to see in the neighbor with his unwilling
ness and grudging kindness a type of God's attitude
towards his children. The necessity of prayer and per
sistence does not arise from any unwillingness on the
part of God, but from conditions in our own selves that
must be overcome before we can receive what we desire.
The facts that Jesus sets forth in this parable, taken
from well-known social relations, find continuous illus-
316

THE FRIEND AT MIDNIGHT
tration in the world of nature. For the supply of our
daily need we are dependent upon the gifts of the Crea
tor. Not the simplest requirement of life can be met
entirely by our own power. True, we can do something
towards procuring the supply, but that something is
little more than asking, seeking, or knocking. On the
part of the heavenly Father there is no grudging or hesi
tation. Supplies abundant, overflowing, are provided for
our every need; yet none of these comes to us without
some trifling effort on our part, and for some of them
we must strive long and patiently. A man may starve in
the midst of plenty if he will not exert himself to sow or
reap or gather.
The difference in the material wealth of different men
is not due to the partiality of Providence which gives
freely to one and withholds from another. It is due
rather to the difference in personal energy or persistence
or wisdom which different men show in seeking wealth.
The man who seeks wealth earnestly, untiringly, finds it.
The man who knocks long and loudly at the door of
fortune compels its opening. The man who asks great
things and brooks no denial, receives them.
Prayer is not therefore an institution peculiar to re
ligion. It is the expression of a law of life universal.
It is a factor in the life social or commercial or political
which we know by various names ; but when we think of
it in connection with the life spiritual, when we raise it
to its highest and purest form, we call it prayer. In the
religious sphere it finds its supreme manifestation.
There it rises above the material and the earthly and
directly recognizes the fact of dependence upon God,
expressing itself in words of supplication or thanks
giving. And this is by no means the least important result of
prayer, that it deepens in our minds and hearts the sense
of dependence upon God by calling forth an acknowledg
ment of that dependence. We may recognize the general
317

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
law of asking and receiving in other forms without ever
thinking of God at all. But when our recognition takes
the specific form that we call prayer, the very act involves
a confession of God and the soul receives a new and
higher spiritual impulse.
When we toil for any of the manifold products of
labor, it may be tilling the soil for a harvest, or digging
into the earth for rich minerals, or traveling the avenues
of trade for gain, we are wont to attribute the results,
whether large or small, to our own effort. We have
earned what we enjoy, so we think. But a careful
scientist not many years ago took several of the more
common lines of toil, such as agriculture, mining and
commerce, and computed the proportionate results of
those which are due to human effort on the one hand and
on the other what is due to the direct agency of God
working through the laws and forces of nature. What
was his conclusion ? This : even in the most toilsome
and least remunerative lines of production only a very
small fraction of the result is due to man's labor. That
is little more than the asking. The race could not exist
for a single day upon the unaided results of its most
strenuous- effort. More than ninety-five per cent in
every case is the free gift of God.
Prayer is not, therefore, I repeat, a distinctively relig
ious act, a custom or institution that sets the spiritual
life apart from all other. It is simply the most perfect
ly spiritual manifestation of a law that runs through
all life. Of the three illustrations given by the Master,
one -is taken from the sphere of domestic or social life,
a second from the courts of law, and the third from re
ligious life as seen at the temple. What could indicate
more plainly that the notion of prayer is quite in keep
ing with the common experience of every phase of daily
life? What could emphasize more clearly the fact that
prayer is the perfectly natural expression of human de
sire? 318

THE FRIEND AT MIDNIGHT
There are some lessons that must be learned anew with
every onward step of our progress in thought and life.
This is one of them. The Christian disciple and the
Christian Church of to-day need to learn the lesson of
prayer just as truly as those first disciples needed to
learn it. With the progress of the centuries and the in
creasing prevalence of Christian civilization we are be
coming wondrously well satisfied with ourselves. The
sense of dependence upon God, the consciousness of
imperative need, weigh less heavily upon us than upon
those who have lived in less favorable times. We are no
longer pressed with overwhelming desires for God's
blessing. With the decline of the sense of need and the eager
ness of desire the spirit of prayer wanes. Individual
prayer is becoming less common and less importunate.
The prayer-meeting languishes. Other forms of service
are being substituted for it. We are beginning to look
to education and ecclesiastical machinery as the omnip
otent forces for completing the redemption of the
world. And so the Church of the twentieth century is
fast becoming a prayerless Church. With new meaning
and more intelligent purpose we need to repeat for our
selves the request of those primitive Christians. —
"O thou through whom we come to God,— i
The Life, the Truth, the Way,—
The path of prayer Thyself hast trod;
Lord, teach us now to pray."

319

The Power of
Persistence

CHAPTER XXV
The Power of
Persistence
THE IMPORTUNATE WIDOW
Luke 18:1-8
Text. — " Men ought always to pray, and not to faint. " — Luke 18:1
SOME Bible doctrines men accept all too readily.
Others they are very slow to accept. That is
to say, certain truths are welcomed with eager
ness, but are taken in a superficial manner by
the majority of disciples, and their truth is se
riously distorted, while other truths equally vital are
crowded out of our "life. Here are one or two illus
trations in point.
The injunction, "Wait on the Lord," seems to many
minds the quintessence of the gospel, and the whole life
is spent in waiting with nothing received and nothing
done. The phrase, "Not my will, but thine, be done,"
which upon the lips of Jesus expressed profound humil
ity and submission, has been so misused as to utterly
vitiate the meaning and purpose of prayer. Humility
readily shades into distrust and resignation into in
difference. We smile at the story of the little boy who,
at the end of an unusually naughty day, was advised to
ask God to make him a better boy and prayed thus, "Q.
T^rri pIwwjp mnke..me_a good boy." then, after an_im-
pressive pause^^NeverthelesSj not my_wilV-bat~thine,
Jja-^e*Te**J~y^irhls prayer waiTvery"" Tncemany that we
hear irolrf'the T lips of children of older growth.
323

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
On the other hand, the duty of persistence and per
severance, especially when applied to prayer, meets with
increasing objection in the minds of Christian people.
We are easily persuaded that it savors of dictation or
presumption. This is particularly true of the most in
telligent Christians of the present day. The primitive
Church did not hesitate to pray earnestly and persistent
ly for desired blessings. Witness the daily gatherings
with prayer for the Holy Spirit that preceded the mar
velous display at Pentecost, and the similar gatherings
to pray for the deliverance of imprisoned Peter that
continued until he knocked at the door a free man.
One must search long and diligently to find the paral
lel of these gatherings now-a-days. Occasionally we
hear of protracted meetings,, but they are confined for
the most part to extremists or to the less cultured por
tions of the Church. Among the most intelligent and
rational disciples individual prayer is brief and well
pruned, and as for the prayer-meeting, that has its fixed
hours and begins and ends very promptly by the clock,
often having a carefully prepared program that gives
more time to song and speech than to prayer. Woe be
tide the leader who permits a meeting to run over time
that the tide of prayer may sweep on unhindered! He
will quickly hear remarks about "religious dissipation,"
and if he does not heed these another leader will soon
take his place.
Now Jesus plainly had no fear of appearing presump
tuous. With an agony of earnestness he thrice repeated
the same prayer, and that for release from the great
trial of his life. Even though he used the phrase "Not
my will, but thine, be done," he persisted in the prayer
till he received an answer; for "there appeared unto
him an angel from heaven, strengthening him." And
what he illustrates in that prayer he enjoins in his teach
ing as do the sacred writers in many parts of Scripture.
What is the meaning of that striking scene in the life his-
324

THE IMPORTUNATE WIDOW
tory of Jacob, where he wrestles all night with the angel,
and as the morning dawns cries out, "I will not let thee
go, except thou bless me?" Does it not say in clearest
tones, "Hold on to the Lord until the blessing comes?"
No other interpretation of the incident can be entertained
for a moment by any intelligent reader.
Do we not get a hint of the same suggestion in the
parable of The Friend at Midnight? True, it is not the
central lesson of that story, but it is surely incidental.
As we see the householder repulsed in his first appeal
yet continuing to knock and to plead, as we hear his
knocks increasing in violence with every minute of de
lay until he fairly thunders at the door and threatens
to arouse the whole neighborhood, and so brings down
the surly neighbor, the lesson of persistence and im
portunity forces itself upon us.
Yet again, the apostle sums up the whole matter in
three words: "Pray without ceasing," a motto that
might well be written over the door of many a modern
church, from which the spirit and practise of prayer
have long since departed.
The parable of The Widow and the Unjust Judge
is another word upon the same subject. It has no other
thought than this — persistence. St. Luke explicitly de
clares its purpose by way of introduction. "He spake
a parable unto them to this end, that men ought always
to pray, and not to faint." Upon this thought every
detail of the parable reflects its light. It is not a pic
ture of our relations with God. The figures in the para
ble are not representative of God on the one hand and
man on the other. Rather does the whole scene stand
out in vivid contrast with the relations between the
heavenly Father and his child. But in this very contrast
we find a striking presentation of one element of true
prayer. The one lesson of the parable is persistence,
— the need and power of persistence.
Purposely the judge, indifferent and unjust, is placed
325

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
over against the just and provident God. It is selfish
ness in contrast with love, unrighteousness in contrast
with holiness, unwillingness in contrast with eagerness.
Yet persistence prevails. Notwithstanding the odds
against her, the widow persists in her pleading until at
length from sheer weariness on the part of the judge
her prayer is granted. The inference is plain; yes, un
avoidable. If, with all the odds against her, with the
sympathy and perhaps the interests of the judge else
where engaged and no scruples in action, persistence
wins her point, how much more certainly will one win his
desire who comes to a just and loving God! If per
sistence wins in conflict with selfishness, tyranny and
caprice, how much more certain is it to succeed when it
is in perfect harmony with the unvarying law of a kind
and beneficent Providence!
The Power of Persistent Prayer is therefore the theme
which our parable presents for our consideration. And
the story teaches us first:
That it is right to persist in prayer. The writer's prefa
tory explanation of the purpose of the parable makes
this inference unavoidable. "He spake a parable unto
them to this end, that men ought always to pray, and not
to faint." This truth calls for emphasis to-day as never
before. We are too ready to limit the duty and belittle
the value of prayer. We are terribly afraid that we shall
appear presumptuous. We greatly exaggerate or mis
interpret the duty of resignation. When we have asked
once for a blessing, and that in a very cool and impassive
fashion, we consider our duty done* and with an unbe
lieving sigh we resign the whole matter to the divine
will. It is not strange if faith in prayer diminishes as the
fear of persistence increases; for the value of prayer
and the right of persistence in prayer rest upon the same
evidence. Every witness to the power of prayer in hu
man life is also a witness to the efficacy of persistence.
326

THE IMPORTUNATE WIDOW
Not a saint in all the calendar of those who have proven
the worth of prayer but also illustrates our theme of per
sistent prayer.
See Abraham pleading for Sodom over and over again
till he obtains assurance that the presence of ten righteous
persons shall save the city from destruction. See David'
praying with fasting and tears for the life of his child
until the child's death makes it clear that his prayer is
not to prevail. See the apostle Paul entreating the
Lord thrice for the removal of his "thorn in the flesh,"
and ceasing to pray only when he receives a definite
answer from God with the promise of grace sufficient
for his burden.
Jesus himself was not afraid of seeming presumptuous.
As he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, we are told
first that he prayed with such earnestness that he sweat
as it were great drops of blood falling to the ground.
Not only so, but failing to receive an assurance of the
desired answer, he repeated his prayer again and again.
All three times he used the same words. No fear of
repetition had he. Why? Because he asked for just what
he wanted in the simplest manner possible, and there
was no call for a change. Not elegant wording but
plain expression of intense desire was his thought. How
many of us would venture to repeat a prayer for any
blessing thrice in precisely the same words ? So seldom
does desire for blessing overshadow our anxiety about
forms. Who can say how many times Jesus spent the en
tire night in prayer? Not once nor twice, but repeatedly
in the Gospels we are told that he separated himself
from all companionship and prayed all the night long.
There is persistence exemplified again and again. And
its effect appears in the wonderful days of teaching or
miracle that followed these nights of prayer.
Yes, it is right, it is Christian, to persist in prayer.
The Word of God gives us repeated warrant for persist-
327

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
ence. From the days of Abraham to the present, God's
blessings have come to those who have "held the fleet
angel fast" until the request was granted. And this
lesson confronts us at the very threshold as we study
the parable before us.
Again, our parable implies that it is necessary to per-
sist in prayer. Why necessary? Because God is unwill
ing to grant our desires? No, never! God is always
more willing to give us the things that minister to our
highest welfare than we are to ask for them. The ne
cessity is in ourselves. We are wanting in the spirit
of true prayer. We are not thoroughly in earnest. We
are actuated by false motives and superficial purposes.
We cherish wrong desires. Our spiritual life and experi
ence are imperfect. And often the condition of persistent
prayer is the only method of correcting these errors in
us. By this means our purpose is deepened, our vision
clarified, and we are fitted to make worthy use of the
blessing when it comes to us. By this means, too, we
are sometimes led to see that our wishes are mistaken
and the blessing sought, a curse.
Not seldom the fault is with our faith. Now do not
make the mistake of picturing God as delaying his an
swers to prayer simply to try our faith. That were a
spirit unworthy the divine character. Many times have
we seen some person old enough to know better hold
ing out a tempting gift to a little child, it may be a pretty
toy or some sweetmeat or fruit, and carefully keeping it
just beyond the reach of the little fingers eagerly stretched
out to take it, for the poor pleasure of teasing the helpless
infant. Is there anything Godlike in such an action?
Far from it. The spirit of teasing is simply devilish.
Let us then be very careful that we do not represent God
as treating his children in a similar manner. Yet that
is really what is meant by the common expression, "He
waits to try our faith." No, no; God does not withhold
blessings to try our faith. No need of that. But he often
328

THE IMPORTUNATE WIDOW
delays his answers for the purpose of developing our
faith, or to remove some obstacle to the fullest granting
of our desires.
Persistence in prayer intensifies desire for the bless
ing sought. Very often we pray for blessings when our
desire is but slight. Were the blessings bestowed at
once we should value them lightly and perhaps we should
use them unwisely. But as their bestowal is delayed our
desire grows more intense. As day after day passes we
learn to appreciate more fully the value of that which we
seek, until at length when it comes we are fitted to use
it to the very best possible advantage.
Before he parted from his disciples, Jesus gave them
the promise of power from on high, and bade
them tarry in Jerusalem until they should receive it.
Yet, after his ascension, they met in an upper chamber
and prayed for the fulfilment of the promise and no
power came. Again they met and prayed, and still no
power. Thus for ten days. Do you suppose that those
prayer-meetings remained on the same level throughout
the ten days, that there was no change, no progress dur
ing that time? That were absurd, unthinkable. No,
you can easily follow the growth of the spirit and ut
terance of prayer in each meeting. Day by day their
eagerness grew more intense. Day by day their prayers
were more urgent. Doubtless, too, there were deep
questionings, self-examinations, fresh consecrations and
more complete surrenders, until, when on the tenth day
the gift was poured out upon them in an overwhelming
tide, they were prepared to make use of it for the sal
vation of thousands.
The supreme obstacle to spiritual blessing is our in
difference. Wishes we have and half-hearted desires,
but we are seldom moved by an intense yearning. We
know little of that sort of prayer that wearies the body
and exhausts the vital power. Such intensity of desire
as wrings the bloody sweat from the brow or leaves its
329

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
impress in a halting limb, or forgets hunger for many
days and nights, is an unknown factor in the religious
life of to-day. Our prayers are brief and formal. We are
more concerned about propriety ,of form than about def
initeness of object. For this reason persistence is often
necessary to overcome our indifference and to kindle
in us worthy desires for God's blessing.
Once more, our parable is a promise that persistent
prayer will prevail. Purposely the judge is put in sharp
contrast with God. He is drawn with a most ungodly
character. He is pictured as wholly selfish and sordid,
as utterly lacking in principle, as thoroughly hard-heart
ed. Yet he yields to the persistency of the widow. He
is conquered by it.
What is the inevitable argument? First, it is from
the unwillingness of the judge in contrast to the will
ingness of God. If persistence can prevail over selfish
unwillingness, how much more certainly will it prevail
with One who is more than willing to bestow the best
gifts! Such characters as that of the judge are com
mon enough in any age and land, and the conquering
power of persistence does not lack for illustration at any
time. Equally evident is the continuous kindness of di
vine Providence ministering to the daily needs of God's
children, and holding in store gifts infinitely greater
than those already enjoyed. Along the line of simple
benevolence the argument of the parable is unanswerable ;
and for many that is sufficient.
There is, however, another point from which we may
view it. We have here a contrast between the mere
caprice of a tyrant and the absolute trustworthiness of a
divine Ruler who always works according to a fixed and
beneficent law- That persistence will prevail even over
selfish and unscrupulous caprice is a fact commonly ob
served, but not an invariable rule. On the other hand, the
reward of persistence under the reign of divine law is
absolutely certain. The stone-cutter strikes a huge block
330

THE IMPORTUNATE WIDOW
of granite with his hammer, and there is no perceptible
result. But he strikes it again, blow upon blow, ten,
twenty, thirty, fifty times. All the while the block of
stone seems unaffected, but in time, it may be at the
fiftieth blow, the block falls in two. In that case there
has been no increase in either force or speed of the
blows; just a steady, tireless repetition. And per
sistence wins. The workman is sure of the result. He
does not know precisely how many blows will be re
quired. He does not count. He only strikes and keeps
on striking till the great block falls apart.
When human prayer and desire and effort are in har
mony with divine law there can be no question as to
the ultimate result. To reach the result may take a long
time, may demand much labor and sacrifice, may tax the
faith and patience of the seeker. But failure is impossible
to him who persists. The ringing declaration of a great
general, "I will fight it out on this line if it takes all
summer," was a sure prophecy of triumph before the
summer was gone. And many and wonderful have been
the triumphs secured by persistent and earnest prayer.
Want of persistence in prayer indicates want of faith.
True, we often satisfy ourselves with the notion that it
is humility and submission to God's will that causes us
to cease from praying. But why should humility cause
us to cease so long as we receive no answer nor any
indication of God's will? Jesus prayed again and again.
Paul prayed repeatedly. Why should not we do the same ?
We have reason to expect some clear and satisfactory
answer to every prayer we offer. Unanswered prayer
• is meaningless. Yet is not much of our prayer unan
swered? Is it not true that we often pray without ex
pecting any answer ?
Now-a-days there is a great deal of unbelief in the
real power of prayer. We have come to think of prayer
as a mere religious ceremony to be performed because it
is commanded. That prayer has a certain value, chiefly
331

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
due to its reflex influence upon him who prays, we are
ready enough to believe. But many of us are skeptical
as to its direct efficacy. We have been accustomed to
think of the reign of law as nullifying the power of pray
er, whereas we should see in prayer one phase of the
working of divine law.
One reason only should cause us to hesitate regarding
any prayer that we offer, and that is a doubt as to wheth
er what we ask is in accordance with the divine will.
Now there arc some things which do not admit of this
doubt. When we pray for our own spiritual growth or
sanctification, or for a revival of God's work in the
world, we know that these things are in accordance with
the will of God. We cannot therefore be too persistent
or too earnest in praying for these.
If there is delay in receiving an answer to such prayers
the fault must be ours. We must be wrong at some
point. Either we are not sufficiently in earnest or we
are not prepared for our part in the blessing. What
remains? To cease praying? No. We should con
tinue to pray till we are right, and when we are right
the blessing will surely come.

332

Exaltation Through
Humility

CHAPTER XXVI
Exaltation Through
Humility
THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN
Luke 18:9-14
Text. — "Every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled; but he that
humbleth himself shall be exalted. " — Luke 18:14
THE way up is down." To reach the greatest
heights we must first plunge into the lowest
depths. This is often true in a bad sense.
Men mount to the pinnacles of worldly suc
cess by first descending to the depths of
meanness or dishonesty. They attain the heights
of fame or wealth or glory only when honor and
truth and righteousness have been sunk wholly out of
sight or trampled under foot. They grovel in the dirt
as the condition of being lifted to a throne.
But it is equally true in a good sense. Before we can
ascend the mountain tops of heavenly glory we must
go down into the valley of humiliation. Before we can
enjoy the blessed fellowship of the risen Christ, we
must lie prostrate at the foot of Calvary's cross. Was
it not Wesley who sang,
"Sink me to perfection's heights"?
Whoever said it, had certainly discovered one essen
tial condition of all highest attainment. Exaltation comes
only as the reward of humility.
This is the essential truth illustrated by the story of
336

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
The Pharisee and the Publican. It is not primarily a
parable of prayer, as is that which immediately precedes
it. The prayer is really incidental; but as an incident
it is at once so prominent and suggestive that many
readers wholly lose sight of the deeper and broader
theme of the story. The evangelist carefully explains
that the parable is spoken to "certain who trusted in
themselves that they were righteous, and set all others
at nought." And the parable applies itself broadly in
the words, "Every one that exalteth himself shall be
humbled; but he that humbleth himself shall be exalt
ed." The truth contained in these words is susceptible of
the widest application in life. It might have been illus
trated by a picture taken from almost any one of the
numberless phases of human life and action, but our
Lord chooses for its expression and enforcement an in
cident of prayer. He sees two men of widely different
character and spirit engaging in a familiar act of wor
ship at the temple. He notes the air with which they come
to the sacred place. He observes their attitude and
hears their words as they pray. And he goes forth with
them to mark the results of their service. Among all
the parables of the New Testament there is none sim
pler, none more direct and universal in its application
than this, and few, if any, have been more popular.
In the parable we note three contrasts which serve
to bring out its meaning and to impress its lesson. They
are : — a. Contrasted men,
b. Contrasted prayers, and
c. Contrasted results.
First we are struck by the vivid contrast between the
men who come to the temple to pray. Before us stand
two men of antipodal characters. "The one a Pharisee,
and the other a publican," i. e., the one a good man and
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THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN
the other a bad man. Let us study these figures for a mo
ment. Here is the Pharisee — the good man. Do not look
surprised. Do not rise up and declare that he was not
a good man. Listen to his own statement. "I am not
unjust, or an extortioner, or an adulterer. I fast twice
in the week; I give tithes of all that I get."
"Oh, the hypocrite!" you say. No, no. Jesus does
not say that he was a hypocrite. He does not hint at
such a thing. We are left to believe that the man spoke
the truth, and, without any evidence to the contrary,
we are bound to believe him. More than that, if we con
sider the matter a little more carefully we shall see that
the significance of the story is enhanced when we take
the man at his word, and realize that he was really a
most respectable and religious person. Yes, let us take
his story as he tells it, and as Jesus has given it to us.
And what a record that was ! He was a just man ; he
was kind; he was pure; he was temperate and benevo
lent — a good business man, a good neighbor, a good citi
zen, a good churchman. How many members of the
Christian Church in this twentieth century could give
as good an account of themselves and give it honestly?
When such a one comes into any community he is wel
comed with open arms, is accounted a model Chris
tian, is invited to join the church, and we are ready to
overlook a good degree of self-satisfaction in his case.
He is here, close to us ; for when we saw him coming
we moved along and made room for him in our pew.
He was just the person we wanted to sit beside us. He
is evidently very respectable company.
Over there is the bad man — the publican. Bad, I say,
for he himself confesses it. His business was bad. No
body but a traitor to his country would accept the office of
publican. He was about as disreputable as the rum-
seller of to-day. His business was probably conducted
badly. Having thrown overboard his self-respect when
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
he took up the business, dishonesty, greed, oppression,
and kindred sins would quickly find a place in his life
and conduct. A traitor alike to his country and his re
ligion, he would not be a desirable neighbor or a useful
member of society. His description of himself is brief
and is striking as it is brief. "Me, the sinner." No
need of going into details. That tells the whole sad
story. The Pharisee told the truth about himself; the
publican did the same. The contrast is instructive.
Turn now to the second contrast,, equally striking,
equally suggestive. It is the contrast between two pray
ers. The good man makes a very bad prayer, so bad a
prayer in fact that we can scarcely call it a prayer at all.
Better is the definition of the poet; —
''Two went to pray? O, rather say,
One went to brag, the other to pray."
That is the precise truth. The Pharisee did not pray—
he boasted; he proclaimed his own goodness.
To pray — what is it? To want something and to
ask for it. The Pharisee was not conscious of any
want, and he did not ask for anything. He has all
that he wishes and is satisfied. His words are an in
ventory of wealth rather than a catalogue of wants.
Oh, but he is giving thanks; and is not thanksgiving
a form of true prayer? Certainly, all true prayer in
volves the spirit of thanksgiving; but there is no real
thanksgiving here. To be sure, our Pharisee says,
"God, I thank thee"; but does he really thank God for
anything? Not at all. He doesn't mention anything
that God has given him or has done for him. He
speaks about what "I am" and what "I have done."
"I am good." "I fast and give tithes." Why should he
thank God for that? Himself deserves the credit and
the thanks, so far as appears from his own statement.
He does not mention the agency of God in producing
338

THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN
these excellent results. There is not the remotest hint
of real gratitude in his utterance.
Then, too, he is more occupied with others than with
himself. First, he includes all other men in the general
accusation of sinfulness. Then his eye lights on the
publican standing at a distance, and he comments upon
his special wickedness. Now a man never comes near
to God when his mind is wandering hither and thither
in censorious criticism of his fellow men. In prayer we
look up in aspiration or we look down in humility; we
never look around in criticism or curiosity. It is a
poor prayer that exalts self even under pretense of
gratitude, and that is not winged with some deep con
sciousness of need and desire, a poor prayer that takes
cognizance of others unless it be to bear them up in its
loving outreach of sympathy and intercession.
Now listen to the prayer of the bad man. It is an
exceedingly good prayer. "God be merciful to me, the
sinner" (for that is the literal rendering). There is
humility. "He stands afar off," "Would not lift up so
much as his eyes unto heaven," "Smote upon his breast."
Then he wants something, and is very earnest about it.
So earnest is he in his quest and so absorbed in his
approach to God that he is wholly unconscious of any
other presence in the temple. He does not even per
ceive the Pharisee standing near the altar. He speaks
as though he were the only sinner in the whole world.
"God be merciful to me, the sinner."
That is a model prayer. It is earnest desire, simply
and directly expressed. There is no mistaking this
man's sincerity, no doubting his earnestness. Clearly he
is moved by a deep sense of need. He has come to the
temple with a heavy burden of unforgiven sin resting
upon his soul. He wishes to be rid of it, and he asks
for freedom. A model prayer, I say.
Yes, we all of us recognize it as such, but we rarely
imitate it. It is very difficult for us, however conscious
339

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
of sin, to keep our eyes off that Pharisee — either the
Pharisee of the parable or that other flesh and blood
Pharisee whom we know more intimately. We may
realize that we are sinners, but we can readily point out
plenty of self-satisfied hypocrites who, we feel sure, are
not so much better than we are, as they themselves fancy.
We may not always lift our eyes to heaven, but we
generally lift them high enough to look at our neigh
bors. Now we have not caught the publican's spirit of pray
er till we have not only become conscious of our own
sinfulness but have become so profoundly sensible of
it that we wholly forget to compare ourselves with oth
ers; yes, that we become utterly unconscious of the
Pharisees and hypocrites in our neighborhood.
True worship isolates self before God in its closest
communion. Each true penitent becomes for the time
at least "the sinner," alone unexcused, supremely guilty.
No absurdity of exaggerated self-accusation is there; no
overstrained or morbid abasement that lowers the child
of God to the level of brute or worm. Just a simple,
straightforward confession of the truth — the going
apart of the soul in the presence of God to be seen in its
true light, and seeking no advantage or excuse from
comparison with others.
Now observe the third contrast in the picture, the
contrast of results. "This man," says our Lord of the
publican, "went down to his house justified rather than
the other." "Justified," what does that mean? Are we
to understand that Jesus declares the publican a better
man than the Pharisee? No; for, as we have seen, he
was a worse man. It is not the counterbalancing of bad
morals and a sinful life by a single religious act that
is pleasing to God. Justification and condemnation are
not so much declarations of God as they are actual ex
periences of man. In the case before us at least the
340

THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN
term refers chiefly to the state of mind in which the two
men went forth from their temple worship.
The Pharisee has come to the temple with no specific
purpose beyond the fulfilment of a certain religious cus
tom or duty. It is the hour of prayer, therefore he
goes through the form of prayer even though he feels
no need of it. He does it because all respectable people
do it, and he believes that for some reason it is pleasing
to God. He wants nothing, at least he is not conscious
of any want; he asks for nothing, and he receives noth
ing. Yet we can be morally certain that as he goes on
his homeward way a feeling of disappointment and self-
disgust fills his heart.
There is a strange inconsistency in most natures that
leads them vaguely to expect some blessing in worship
even when they do not ask for it and do not feel any defi
nite need. There is a certain looking for the un
sought and the unexpected in the realm of religion, and
a sense of perpetual disappointment when nothing comes.
Furthermore, as overindulgence in sweets cloys the
stomach and produces a feeling of discomfort and nau
sea, so the contemplation of one's own virtues and the
enumeration of one's excellent qualities is sure to result
in that mental revulsion which we know as self-con
demnation. Who can doubt that this was the state of
mind in which the Pharisee returned to his house after
his temple boasting? He may have been pure in life
and honest in dealings, scrupulous in tithing and faithful
in worship, but I'll warrant he was surly to his wife
and cross to the children that day. His superior mo
rality and careful piety did not bring a smile to his face
and music to his voice.
Do not we also often share his experience? We come
to the house of God for worship, but often we come
with little or no purpose beyond going through the
prescribed and conventional forms. We sing and we
pray and we enter into the service, not because we expect
341

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
any definite results, nor yet because we have any clearly
defined sense of personal need, but simply because others
are doing these things, or because we have formed the
habit of doing them and consider the habit eminently
proper and respectable. Nevertheless when we go away
to our homes at the close of the service we are in a very
critical and faultfinding mood. We are disappointed.
The sermon was poor, the singing was worse, and as
for the prayers and all the rest there was nothing help
ful in any part of it. We lament the degeneracy of mod
ern preaching, the decadence of spiritual worship, the
poverty of the Church services of our time. True, we had
no purpose in coming to the sanctuary, no sense of need.
We did not want anything in particular, yet in a sort of
indefinite way we expected to be blessed, and we were not.
What is the matter? It is the sense of self-condemna
tion. We have been contemplating our own goodness,
if not directly and boastfully at least in a roundabout
manner, by way of the failing of others, or we have been
indulging our appetite for merely formal worship, till
our souls have become somewhat sickened.
Of course you say that the Pharisee could not reason
ably expect any blessing from his worship when he was
not conscious of any need, and did not ask for anything.
But I appeal to your own experience whether the same
sense of disappointment and condemnation has not come
to you many times from the same cause. Have you not
often come to God's house to worship without anj?
definite purpose and gone away disappointed because
God did not bestow some blessing unexpected and un
asked? If not, I venture the assertion that your ex
perience is unique.
The publican goes to his house justified, i. e., with
a great load lifted from his mind and heart. Not that
he is now a better man than the Pharisee. Probably it
was many years before he rose to such a level of moral-
342

THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN

ity and refinement and piety as the Pharisee had lived
upon from birth. The habits of mind and action that
have been forming for years are not changed in a mo
ment. This publican had been hard, grasping, dishonest,
rude, and much time would be required to overcome
these evil tendencies. But he has made a frank and full
confession. He has appealed to God for mercy and
help, and there steals into his soul the sense of peace and
pardon which is the first condition of a new life. He
feels better already because he has determined to' do
better. _^
I should like to follow him to his home, to note the
tender way in which he speaks to the wife and the]
gentle manner with the little ones. Even before he tells
them of his new resolves and higher purposes they arej
aware of the change that has come over him. His en4
trance is like the coming of the sunlight into the housej
and the entire family feels the contagion of his newj
found joy.
The Pharisee had exalted himself in his boasting pray
er over his fellows, and he goes, forth humbled, down
cast in mind, vexed in spirit. More than this, it is a
step in the downward movement of his whole life. Per
haps the change was too slight to attract attention, but it
was the beginning of, or a progressive step in, a revolu
tion in him that would some time bring him to a plane
lower than that of the despised publican. Self-satisfac
tion always marks the beginning of moral and spiritual
decline. And that temple service was the planting of a
seed whose growth would surely choke out every one of
the noble qualities and actions recounted with so much
complacence, unless itself were uprooted by repentance
and self-abasement.
The publican, on the other hand, humbled himself by
a confession and a plea that must have been doubly
significant when offered within ear-shot of the Pharisee's
343

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
insults. But he is too much in earnest even to hear those,
let alone paying any attention to them. And he goes
forth exalted — exalted in mind, and with the first po
tent impulse towards an exaltation of life which shall
bring him daily nearer to God and heaven.
A similar prayer has been the turning-point in many
a life. Uttered by the despairing soul in the depths of
misery and degradation it has furnished the power and
the courage to rise once more to the level of purity and
hope. Uttered by a soul seeking to escape from the
fetters of pride and false respectability, it has melted
the frozen heart and has transformed the icy crystals
of a dead religion into refreshing fountains of spiritual
life and power.
I have said that while prayer is the particular subject
of this picture, its lesson is not designed to apply solely
to prayer. In fact, it is not restricted to any part of the
religious life, but stands as a type of spiritual life as
a whole. The truth is general — "He that exalteth him
self shall be humbled ; and he that humbleth himself shall
be exalted."
Some one has said, "No man can enter the kingdom of
heaven with hi9 head erect." The gate of heaven is
low, and he who would enter must stoop; but when he
has entered the lowly gate he shall find unspeakable
glories on the other side.
—The doctrines of repentance, confession, conviction
of sin and the like are going out of fashion in these
days. We think that we can grow into the spiritual
life by a process so gradual that it shall not be perceived.
There is no need, we fancy, to humble ourselves. We
will simply conform our lives more and more to the
accepted Christian standards, and by and by, almost be
fore we know it, we shall wake up to find ourselves
full-fledged Christian saints. Evolution is the popular
344

THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN
catchword of the. age. The phrase is interpreted as em
bodying a force or a process that works gradually and
quite imperceptibly and yet brings about infinite results,
and in the course of time transforms all manner of evil
into highest good.
Multitudes to-day are trying to become Christians by
this method. They are not conscious of any particular
need in their lives. They feel sure that they are as good
already as the great mass of Christians. They are a
great deal better than some whom they see every Sab-
bath in the sanctuary. Their lives are clean and pure i
and exceedingly respectable. So they go regularly to;
church. They give more or less liberally to its support.
They take a certain part in its activities and patronize
it in every way. And they expect by this means, with
out any humiliating confessions of sin or need, gradually
to obtain recognition as Christians and so to enter heaven
at last.
But the spiritual life does not come to them. They
are subject to continual disappointment. There is no
such thing as gradual spiritualization. No one can be
come a Christian without repentance and conversion.
No one can attain the lofty experiences and joys of
sainthood without humbling himself.
True, there is a false and foolish abasement of self
that injures the soul instead of uplifting it To_g£p_y_el
is one thing, to humble oneself is quite another. The
"one is~faTse and artificial, the other natural and heces-
sary. The soul must be humbled before God or the
spiritual life will not flow in with its fruits of peace and
joy and glory.
But he who, forgetting his own dignity and pride,
comes to God with a free and full acknowledgment of
sin and need, he who feels with the publican that he is
"the sinner," and humbles himself in the sinner's place,
will never fail to receive tokens of God's forgiving love.
345

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
To him the spiritual life and' power will be granted.
He shall have daily victory over sin. He shall enter into
a daily more exalted fellowship with Jesus Christ. As
his humility is continuous, continuous also shall be his
exaltation. Not only shall he be justified, but he shall
also be sanctified and glorified.

346

The Wise Use
of Wealth

CHAPTER XXVII
The Wise Use
of Wealth
THE UNRIGHTEOUS STEWARD
Luke 16:1-12
Text. — "Make to yourselves friends by means of the mammon of
unrighteousness." — Luke 16:9
TO discover truth in things false, to bring
good out of things evil, to make darkness
radiant with light, is characteristic of the
Christ He seizes the most untoward inci
dent, .and wrings from it a message of
divine truth. He takes the vilest sinner and transforms
him into a preacher of righteousness. He finds the
leaven a universal symbol of corruption, transfigures
it by a touch, and it becomes forever after a type of
heavenly character. He lays hold of the serpent, hither
to the representative of Satan and the satanic, and im
presses him into his service as an object-lesson of heav
enly wisdom; he even makes him a yokefellow of the
gentle dove in the eternal symbolism of the spiritual
life. He takes the corrupt politician and the unscrupu
lous tradesman and, clothing them in the garb of par
able, sends them forth as teachers of highest truth to
the world.
In the opening verses of the sixteenth of Luke we
have a case in point. It is the story of a criminal and
his crime, used to impress a profound moral lesson.
It is a picture of evil from which the Master
derives suggestions of good for his disciples. Let us
study the incident in the light of his criticism.

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
The central figure of the picture is a steward, a neg
ligent and wasteful steward. At the moment of his in
troduction he has been accused ' of unfaithfulness, and
his employer has brought him to account. As always,
the crisis reveals character. Hitherto he has been
merely careless; now he becomes positively criminal.
Instead of confessing his negligence and seeking for
giveness, with the opportunity to correct the evils of his
administration, or in some way to make good the losses
incurred, he adds knavery to neglect and fraud to faith
lessness in order that he may escape the just retribution
of his wrong-doing.
The man's action admits of no justification. He is
the impersonation of utter dishonesty. His conduct il
lustrates the natural and rapid progress of evil in his
quick stride from waste to wantonness. The accusation
made against him at the outset does not of necessity
imply moral wrong. His wastefulness might have been
the result of incapacity. That there was real indolence
and indifference appears only as we read the sequel.
Only culpable negligence could have ripened so sud
denly into fraudulent conspiracy.
Accused of wastefulness and threatened with dis
charge, he provides against future want by a system of
"graft" that has never been surpassed by the most astute
and corrupt of modern politicians. His lord's income is
derived from tenants who pay as rental an annual per
centage of their harvests. The amount to be paid de
pends therefore in a large measure upon their own
statements. Each makes out his "bill," which he gives
to the steward, and payment is made upon that basis.
Probably none but these two, the tenant and the stew
ard,, would know enough about the actual items involved
intelligently to question the correctness of the bill.
In the brief time that remains for closing up his ac
counts, the steward of our parable visits such of his
lord's debtors as he thinks may be tampered with. Of
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THE UNRIGHTEOUS STEWARD
each he asks the question, "How much owest thou unto
my lord?" and, on receiving answer, bids him make out
his bill for a smaller amount. To one he offers a bribe
of fifty per cent, to another of twenty, to each doubtless
the largest sum that he thought the man's conscience or
fear of detection would allow him to accept. By this
means he wins the favor of many of his lord's debtors
and at the same time so involves them in his own crim
inal action that they will not fail to care for him when
his stewardship is taken away.
The nature of the scheme gave reasonable assurance
of its secrecy, since the knowledge of it implied com
plicity in the fraud. Yet by some means the story leaks
out and comes to the ears of the employer, and he can
not refrain from expressing his admiration. In spite
of his own loss he commends the steward "because he
had done wisely." Himself doubtless an unscrupulous
man and dishonest in his dealings, he admires the su
perior knavery of an underling who could thus outwit
him in the very hour of discovery and discharge, and
could secure his own permanent comfort at the expense
of a master whom he had already wronged. The very
coolness and impudence of the man appealed to him.
His promptness, energy and foresight were extraordi
nary. This wealthy landowner had been wont to look
down upon the steward as his servant in social rela
tions. He now discovers that he must look up to him
as a master in high finance.
I do not feel sure that the steward was discharged
after all. On the contrary, I can easily imagine this
somewhat easy-going employer retaining him and enter
ing into a partnership of rascality with him, hoping to
profit by his masterly shrewdness. I can also imagine
that in the course of years the relation of the two was
reversed and that the steward became owner of vast
estates and the former master became steward or under
ling. 351

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Be that as it may, remember that it is his lord that
commends him, not our Lord. No,, not a word of com
mendation has Jesus for the rascally steward. He paints
him as a rascal and only a rascal. Nevertheless, he finds
in the incident lessons that are not without value for his
own disciples. Though not sympathizing with it he
appreciates the admiration of this injured employer for
his knavish servant. "For," says he, "the sons of this
world are for their own generation wiser than the sons
of the light."
One is tempted to pause here and to make this utter
ance the final lesson of the parable. It certainly sug
gests a most practical interpretation of the story. Chris
tian men of to-day may well sit at the feet of their
worldly neighbors, yes, even of the dishonest and un
scrupulous, and learn from them many valuable lessons
of thrift and energy and prudence. We Christians talk
about the corruption of politics, the sordidness of com
merce, the follies of society, but each of these phases
of our worldly life is pregnant with suggestion for the
betterment of Christian work.
No doubt modern politics are corrupt; yet modern re
ligion may learn many a lesson of priceless value from
politics. "How can I get the boys and girls to come to
Sunday-school?" was the question asked by a young
superintendent at a -Sunday-school convention. "Count
every Sunday an important election day, the schoolroom
a polling place, and every youth a voter," was the quick
response of the leader who chanced to be a ward poli
tician. True enough! Let a tithe of the interest be
manifested and of the effort be put forth by parents
and Christian workers to bring our children to the Sun
day-school that is made by politicians to bring voters to
the polls, and every Sabbath-school would speedily be
filled to overflowing.
Granted that modern commerce is sordid and selfish;
352

THE UNRIGHTEOUS STEWARD
yet commerce may serve at some points as the teacher
of religion. The twentieth century merchant keeps up
with the times. The twentieth century church is often
very far behind the times. The merchant is perpetually
on the lookout for attractive novelties. Many a church
never offers either novelty or attraction. Until it is as
easy to secure a quorum of church officers as of bank
directors, until Christians will work as hard to save a
soul as the business man works to save a dollar, until
the disciples of Jesus display just as much energy and
promptness and persistence in the business of the king
dom as they display in the conduct of their secular af
fairs, religion must sit at the feet of commerce and listen
to her instruction.
And even society -gay, frivolous, selfish society —
can teach Christians something. See how freely these
votaries of pleasure spend their money for amusement,
how they wear out their lives in pursuit of a "good
time," how they toil and strive and sacrifice for trifles.
Were the disciples of Jesus one-half as free in spending
time and money and strength in his service, we should
live in a perpetual revival.
When I see a great cause like that of temperance hard
bestead because the forces that make for sobriety are
divided over a thousand and one minor points while
their opponents sink all secondary matters in the one
great issue, or when the Church of Jesus Christ is split
up into numberless sects and parties by insignificant
differences of creed and form while the hosts of evil
march in solid columns to victory, I realize the eternal
truth of the Master's words, "The sons of this world
are for their own generation wiser than the sons of
the light."
Striking as these words are, however, they were not
designed by our Lord to embody the central lesson of
the parable. On the contrary, they are merely incidental,
353

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
a side-light upon the central truth, a comment upon the
employer's admiration, and a connecting link between the
action of the parable and the lesson it was intended to
convey. Plainly the emphasis of the whole rests upon those
words, "I say unto you, Make to yourselves friends by
means of the mammon of unrighteousness; that, when
it shall fail, they may receive you into the eternal
tabernacles." Taking this for our center we may easily trace out the
circle of truth which the Great Teacher has described
for us. As we go over the ground carefully, we shall
find but one topic presented to us, viz., The wise use of
wealth. It is not without significance that the central figure
of our parable is a steward. Two apostles have adopted
the phrase in their letters and have made it symbolic of
Christian service. We are stewards of God. No man
has seen life as he ought to see it, no man has the proper
perspective of existence, until he realizes that every
blessing he enjoys, whether material or spiritual, his
wealth, his talents, his time, his influence, his power,
everything is God's, not given to him for his exclusive
use and enjoyment, but committed to him that he may
administer it for the common good and render account
of it at last to the owner.
Men, even Christian men, are given to talking about
their possessions as though they were the owners. They
assume proprietary rights in the gifts of God. And
when they use even a small fraction of that which God
has entrusted to them for the advancement of the king
dom of heaven, when they help some needy brother or
contribute to some missionary enterprise, they call it a
"gift." We can never discover the true relations of life,
the true measure of duty, the true standard of righteous
ness, till we change our view-point. We must put away
354

THE UNRIGHTEOUS STEWARD
this false notion of ownership and accept instead thereof
the idea of stewardship. My money is not mine but
God's. Your wits are not yours but God's. Alike the
wealth of the millionaire, the skill of the artisan, the
genius of the artist, the learning of the scholar, the
beauty of the social queen, are gifts conferred by the
Almighty to be administered faithfully, wisely, carefully
for him in the redemption of the world.
The purpose of our stewardship is twofold — the
glory of God and the blessing of man. Seen in the
clearest light the two are identical, since the highest
happiness and perfection of man is the only glory of
God. He has no glory apart from that. We speak of
using our gifts for God; but we can use them for him
only as we use them for our fellow men. Any offering to
God that does not bless man is an expression of error and
superstition. True religion is always philanthropic,
redemptive. We are stewards of God, and the realm of our stew
ardship is all-comprehensive. It includes our material
possessions, our personal qualities, our intellectual gifts,
our moral characteristics, and also our spiritual experi
ences and attainments. All these are parts of our wealth.
All are given us to be used for God in the service of
man. In the story before us, however, material gifts
only are mentioned as typical of all. The material ele
ment of life being lowest and least spiritual, if that be
surrendered and brought into true alignment with the
spirit of Christ, the rest will follow almost as a matter
of course.
"The mammon of unrighteousness," our Lord calls it.
In that phrase we find an ancient equivalent for the
modern phrase, "Tainted money." Jesus clearly recog
nized the tendency of material wealth to produce sel
fishness and to lead to overt sin. "How hardly shall
they that have riches enter into the kingdom of heaven !"
is his own exclamation; and he compares the rich man
355

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
at heaven's gate to the camel trying to pass through a
needle's eye.
From the beginning, wealth of all kinds has been the
instrument of unrighteousness. Probably every dollar
that has ever been issued has been tainted at some point
in its circulation. Nevertheless, wealth is not evil in
itself, nor is it a proof of evil in its possessor. Jesus
plainly declares that it is possible to make a wise and
righteous use of material wealth. His contrast between
the "unrighteous mammon" and the "true riches" is a
contrast of relations rather than of things,, or it is a
contrast between the material and the spiritual, between
the temporal and the eternal.
Material things have no inherent moral character.
The taint of unrighteousness does not abide in them
continuously. The money that has been tainted by
wrong uses is cleansed again by right uses. Moral
character reveals itself only in the spiritual relations of
material things, the motives that inspire their acquisi
tion and use, the ends to which they are applied.
Again, material things, however helpful and gratify
ing for a time, will soon pass away. Spiritual things
are everlasting. We may so use the material blessings
which God has entrusted to us that they become the
great end of our existence and effort, and when they
are gone we have nothing left; or we may make them
a stepping-stone and passport to something higher,
something that is permanent, and when at last they slip
from our grasp we shall have instead that which is un
speakably more delightful and satisfying. So em
ployed, material riches are like the seed which we cast
into the earth, and when it gradually decays and dis
appears we have instead the growing plant with its foli
age, its blossoms and its fruit reappearing perhaps
through many years, or they are like the precious oint
ment that, as it evaporates, fills all surrounding space
with its rich perfume. 356

THE UNRIGHTEOUS STEWARD
Take the most direct and literal suggestion of our
Lord's words. A disciple may have worldly wealth, he
may be prosperous in business or may have received a
goodly inheritance. What shall he do with it? Two
courses are open to him. On the one hand, he may
suffer himself to become wholly absorbed in the enjoy
ment of these things. He may call them his own, using
them in a selfish or indifferent manner, and they may
bring him only the passing pleasure that shall cease with
the loss of the gifts themselves. Or, on the other hand,
he may recognize the great facts of stewardship and
duty. He may administer the trust in such manner that
he shall endear himself to all around by his beneficence
and kindness. At length comes loss. By some mis
fortune his riches disappear and he is left in poverty.
Then the friends made in his prosperous days, made by
means of his wealth, rally around him and save him from
want. Or, to carry the thought still further, he dies.
Then we may believe that as he enters the other world
he will not find himself a stranger in a strange land,
for there will be many whom he has befriended who will
await him and welcome him to that realm of bliss. That
is no mere fancy but a blessed reality that leads the
Christly soul to look forward to the reception into the
next life by those whom he has helped in this world,
even though it be in a purely material sense. Friends
made by means of the mammon of unrighteousness shall
receive us into the everlasting habitations. Thus the
material and temporal good shall be transmuted into
spiritual and eternal blessing.
There is a close and vital connection between this
parable of The Unfaithful Steward and the parable of
Dives and Lazarus which immediately follows it in
Luke's narrative. They present two sides of one sub
ject. The steward of the one and the rich man of the
other are companion pictures hung side by side for the
357

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
sake of contrast. One represents the wise, the other
the unwise use of wealth.
In the parable before us the steward, though dishonest
and unworthy, makes such a use of the wealth entrusted
to him as to secure for himself a future welcome into
the homes of his lord's debtors when he shall be thrust
out of the stewardship. Upon the basis of this limited
foresight for future needs, Jesus founds an exhortation
to like wisdom for the eternal future in the use of
opportunity. If this rascal is wise enough to so use
his lord's wealth that he shall ensure the future when
the trust is taken from him, why should not the disciple
so use his divine trust that he shall be assured of a wel
come when the material is for him no more?
In the following parable, Lazarus is welcomed into
the abode of bliss, for he had clearly made friends with
very little in this world, while Dives with all his riches
had made no friends and entered the other world without
a welcome. The contrast between the two pictures is
marked, and while we may not press it too closely, it
is certainly pregnant with a significant lesson.
The wisdom of the worldly man is for his own gen
eration; the wisdom of the godly man is for eternity.
The range of the one is limited; that of the other is
infinite. Yet the godly man may learn many a lesson
of true wisdom from his godless neighbor. The godless
man practises thrift, economy, diligence, and the like,
in order to satisfy present needs ; for he says, "One must
live." The godly man should surpass him in all right
effort, for he, too, realizes the fact that one must live—
eternally. The godless man husbands his resources that
he may "lay up for a rainy day" ; the godly man should
so husband his that he may have an abundance laid up
for countless ages. The godless man provides against
the probable; should not the godly man provide with
equal care and wisdom for the certain? Even the un
godly man is often faithful in the discharge of a small
358

THE UNRIGHTEOUS STEWARD
trust in order that it may become a stepping-stone to
larger opportunity; but he who, in the fear of God,
faithfully administers the stewardship of this present
time, shall find that earth itself is a stepping-stone to
heaven and that the stewardship of time shall prepare
him for the ownership of eternity.

359

An Impassable
Barrier

CHAPTER XXVIII
An Impassable Barrier
DIVES AND LAZARUS
Luke 16:19-31
Text. — "Between us andyou there is a great gulf fixed. " — Luke 16:26
IN the world of nature two forces are seen every
where at work. We call them Attraction and
Repulsion. They are opposite in direction and
in effect. The former is always conservative,
the latter destructive. Perhaps the simplest and
most familiar illustration of their working is seen in the
revolving wheel. The motion about the central shaft
generates what is known as centrifugal force, that is,
a repulsive force which tends to drive the particles of
the wheel away from the center and from one another.
The wheel would fly into countless fragments were it not
for the operation of another and opposite force, known
as centripetal, by which the particles composing the wheel
are held fast together. If at any time the centrifugal
force exceeds the centripetal, the wheel flies into frag
ments and is destroyed.
Now these two forces of nature are but types of two
spiritual forces whose working we may observe no less
readily. These are the forces of sin and holiness, of
selfishness and love; the former repulsive, the latter at
tractive; the former destructive, the latter conservative.
Everywhere sin operates to drive men apart and to de
stroy them, while the unfailing influence of righteous-
363

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
ness and love is to attract men one to another and to make
for their permanent safety and peace. The primitive
story of the Eden life is undoubtedly true to nature,
where we read that the result of the first conscious sin
was to drive the guilty pair from the presence of God.
And the force that separates is not the wrath of God,
but the sin of man ; for we find man hiding himself from
the presence of God among the trees of the garden even
before he realizes that his Creator knows of his dis
obedience. And ever since, when the power of sin and
selfishness has exceeded the forces of righteousness,
there have been division, mistrust, hostility, strife and a
continuous effort towards destruction.
As sin operated to drive man from God, so it contin
ually works as a repelling force driving men apart from
one another and keeping them apart. To-day we find
society divided into classes with diverse interests and
clashing purposes. On the great industrial and economic
questions men are unable to get together and to view
these problems from a common standpoint. Why is it?
Because the repelling force of sin and selfishness holds
them apart.
Jesus gives us a vivid picture of the operation and
ultimate effect of this repellent or divisive force in the
parable of Dives and Lazarus.
Here are two men who represent antipodal conditions
in society. First, "there was a certain rich man, and he
was clothed in purple and fine linen, faring sumptuously
every day." Then, "a certain beggar named Lazarus
was laid at his gate, full of sores, and desiring to be fed
with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table."
It is a picture of comfortable wealth over against the
most abject poverty. Nothing is said directly regarding
the character of the two men thus described. We may,
however, infer certain things. Regarding Lazarus, we
inevitably conclude that his poverty is not the result of
any unthrift or wrong-doing on his part, but of absolute
364

DIVES AND LAZARUS
inability to labor because of disease. In fact, the whole
tenor of the story leads us to think of him as a most
worthy man who, like Job of old, works out through his
privation and suffering some deep design of Providence.
On the other hand, we have in the phrase, "yea, even the
dogs came and licked his sores," an implied suggestion
that the rich man with all his luxury never manifested
the slightest compassion for poor Lazarus. There is no
accusation of positive wickedness, no hint that his riches
were dishonestly gained, or that they were spent in any
sinful manner. It is only a picture of utter selfishness, a
suggestion that the dogs of the street were more pitiful
than he. Though near one another in locality, these men
were being driven apart daily by the repellent power of
the spirit of selfishness on the part of Dives.
They were separated in their lives, and they were also
separated in their deaths. "The beggar died," says the
story, "and . . . was carried away by the angels into
Abraham's bosom." Of the other we read, "The rich
man also died, and was buried."
Of course we recognize the first expression as figura
tive. It is merely borrowed from the familiar Jewish
conception of the abode of the blessed. It does not teach
that because a man is poor or suffers in this life he will
surely find a compensating happiness in the next. It
does teach, however, that poverty and lowliness in this
life do not hinder the most perfect bliss hereafter. Laz
arus was so poor that no mention is made of his burial,
but only of his. glorious reception into the heavenly life.
No pageant attended him to his last earthly resting-
place. He was doubtless hurried without ceremony into
a pauper's grave. But when he has crossed the river
he is met by a procession of angels and borne in state
to the realms of light.
The rich man was buried. He received the customary
honors from his fellow men. His wealth was sufficient
to attract a crowd and to purchase the tokens of earthly
365

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
pomp and show. Doubtless there were eulogies and
flowers, and a costly tomb. But with the tomb the
power of money came to an end. Not a word regarding
the attendance of angels upon his departing spirit. Why ?
Because he was rich? No; but because he was selfish.
He had not used his wealth to make friends who should
greet his arrival in the other world with gladness. So
far as this world was concerned, the contrast between
the two men is chiefly a difference between great wealth
and extreme poverty. It is a contrast based on posses
sions. Yet there is also the implied contrast of character.
When they enter the other world, the merely superficial
contrast disappears. Not what they have, but what they
are determines their condition. The complete reversal pf
their relative positions is a mere incident of the story,
not by any means the statement of a necessary law.
Lazarus finds a ready welcome to the highest joys of the
future world, not as a compensation for the poverty and
trials endured in this world, but as the natural fruitage
of a worthy character that had perchance been developed
by means of these same trials. Nor is the lonely torment
of the rich man in any sense a counterbalancing of his
earthly comfort and wealth. He enters that life alone,
because, having used his wealth selfishly, it had made
him no friends who sho'uld come to greet his waiting
spirit on the borders of the invisible land. He finds it
a place of torment because, his riches left behind,, he no
longer has the means of gratifying his desires; because
he cannot now occupy his mind with the pleasures of
sense, and across the field of memory there come troop
ing a host of opportunities unimproved, the vision of a
wasted life, an army of poor that his wealth might have
relieved, of distressed ones to whom he might have given
comfort, of downtrodden persons whom he might have
lifted up. The ghostly shapes of regret and remorse,
these are his tormentors.
As to the detailed description of Hades (which is
366

DIVES AND LAZARUS
simply a general term signifying the abode of the dead,
b6tii good and bad) we can say but little. Clearly it is
foolish to found any doctrine upon a literal interpretation
of the picture, since that is not original with the Master.
For the most part our Saviour merely adopts the current
notions of the time, which would be intelligible to his
hearers and sufficient for his own purpose, without
adding a word either of confirmation or of disapproval.
At a few points the necessities of the story determine
its form.
If any reader is inclined to sneer at the word "flame"
which our Saviour uses figuratively, we ask, Is material
fire worse than the torments of a guilty conscience? It
is difficult to understand how any intelligent person can
question the reality or the dreadfulness of future woe
who has either experienced or observed the tormenting
power of shame, remorse or even of sinful passion in the
present life. How many a man is there in the world
to-day who would willingly endure the burning of his
body if he could by that means destroy the power of
memory! We believe in the existence of a future hell,
not because we have been taught so, but because we may
see thousands of men living in hell to-day; and there
is nothing in Scripture, philosophy, nature, or reason
which gives us the slightest ground for expecting that
it will be otherwise with them hereafter unless they
undergo a complete change in character and mode of
life. But this is, after all, aside from the central purpose!
and teaching of our parable. That is brought out in a
single expression. As in the dramatic representation
Dives pleads with Abraham to send Lazarus to him with
a drop of comfort, the reply comes, "Between us and you
there is a great gulf fixed, that they that would pass
from hence to you may not he able." What is this gulf?
And by whom was it fixed there ? One of our ablest ex
positors speaks of it as "the gulf which God had fixed."
367

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Is not that a false accusation against God? What had
he to do with fixing it there? The only person in the
universe who could put that gulf there was Dives him
self. And he had done it with the devil's aid.
You all know how that is. The gulf was fixed between
Dives and Lazarus long before they died. Dives had
surrounded himself with an impassable barrier of pride
and selfishness and arrogance. Lazarus could not come
anywhere near him. Every day that barrier had be
come broader, deeper, and more impassable. Explo
sions of violent wrath had torn deep and yawning fis
sures. Little words and deeds of unkindness had shelved
away its banks, haughty looks and heartless words had
dredged its channel deep and wide, until that which was
at first a narrow rift over which the men might easily
have clasped hands had become a chasm which might not
be passed.
Were you never conscious of placing a like gulf be
tween yourself and some friend? You had been in
closest friendship, with free exchange of love and sym
pathy. But in a moment of anger or thoughtlessness
you did that friend a wrong. It may be you spoke an
unkind word, or were guilty of a mean action. What
was the result? Why,, something seemed to come be
tween your heart and the heart of your friend that parted
you. Your friend may have forgotten the word or the
act in an hour, but you could not forget it. There it
stood between you, perhaps still stands ; and no kindness
or forgetfulness on his part can remove it. Only your
self can do that by confession and reparation to the ut
most pf your ability. Until you thus make confession
and reparation a persistent sense of restraint on your
own part will hamper your intercourse ; and if this be in
some degree deadened by the passage of time, there will
yet be no restoration of the former perfect frankness.
So men by their sins and their selfishness are daily
placing a gulf between themselves and God or between
368

DIVES AND LAZARUS
themselves and their fellows. And every such gulf must
remain through eternity if it be not removed by the very
persons who placed it there.
Here is the key to the failure of many an effort at so
cial reform. It begins at the wrong end. Two classes
of society become separated by the repellent power of
selfishness, and eager reformers strive to remove the gulf
between them. They preach to each class concerning the
wrong-doings of the other, and each seeks to reform his
neighbor. Now, social gulfs can never be removed in
that way. Jesus declared the true method. "Cast out
first the beam out of thine own eye." Each class must
correct the wrongs within its own circle. Divisions and
antagonisms will be removed when men become more
ready to repair the wrongs themselves have done than
to compel others to mend their faulty ways.
We cannot dogmatize upon the conditions and pos
sibilities of the future state. I have already intimated
that it will not do to press the figures of our parable too
closely. Nevertheless there is in that word "fixed" a
certain profound and solemn suggestion. Does it im
ply that there is no possibility of change or repentance
after death? Are we indeed
"Fixed in an eternal state"?
Any attempt to answer that question would be mere
speculation. But there are certain familiar facts which
none can dispute.
Everywhere we may see this tendency of things to
become fixed. A habit long indulged fastens itself upon
us with ever-increasing force. It is harder to shake off
with every passing day. So with a feeling or a pas
sion. So with the gulf that parts our friendship or sun
ders our relations. Who does a wrong and neglects to
make reparation finds that every moment of delay makes
it increasingly difficult to restore the old relations. May
369

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
it not be that after years of delay this difficulty shall
harden into impossibility? The modern scientific ideal
of the reign of law gives sinful men less hope in this
direction than does the Bible. Now we are able to
bridge these gulfs or even to close them. Do we know
that we shall be able to do so hereafter ? It is a terrible
fact which we may all see illustrated daily that a man
may do in a moment what he cannot undo in a thousand
years. May we not, therefore, do in this life that which
we cannot undo in eternity ?
The closing scene of the parable represents Dives as
asking that Lazarus be sent to warn his brethren against
following in his footsteps. But Abraham replies, "They
have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them."
Dives persistSj "Nay, father Abraham: but if one go to
them from the dead, they will repent." But Abraham
gives the final blow to his hopes with the words, "If
they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they
be persuaded, if one rise from the dead."
In other words, every man has sufficient light to guide
him to righteousness of life in this world and to salva
tion in the next. The conditions of the future world are
not wholly dissimilar to present conditions. Its light and
truth will not be utterly new, but will be the infinite and
glorious completeness of that which we now have in
part. If men reject present light because it reveals too
clearly the imperfections and weaknesses of human char
acter, how much more would they reject that perfect
light which would bring out every flaw and stain before
the eyes of a gazing world! It is true beyond a perad-
venture that where natural influences fail to turn the
heart from sin, supernatural forces are utterly useless.
He who will not listen to the message of God as it comes
through the commonplace human messenger, would only
ridicule a message sent at the hand of angels or spirits.
I find in this concluding dialogue not a new and inde
pendent truth, but only one more ray of light shining
370

DIVES AND LAZARUS
upon our central thought. In the clear and sufficient
light of present knowledge we suffer ourselves to fix
broad gulfs between our souls and our fellows. We
see those gulfs being made daily broader and deeper.
We note the operation of laws which threaten to make
them permanent and impassable, yet we do not arouse
ourselves to the work of removing them. W^-quieL-Our
fears with Jhe ^delusive notion that supernatural in-
IMences and forces wilT accomplish? what the natural
forces have iaiiecLtP do^ that the laws which we here see
and feel will be wholly subverted in their action by other
laws~ancT forces of. which we now know nothing.
Jesus appeals to our reason by revealing destiny not
as the judgment of an arbitrary and omnipotent God,
but as the natural and necessary fruitage of our own
conduct and spirit. , Within our ken and control are these
two great spiritual forces of attraction and repulsion. We
may so ally ourselves with the forces of repulsion — sel
fishness, sin, greed, pride, arrogance — that we shall
thrust ourselves out of the society of all the good and the
true and the loving both now and in eternity. Or, on the
other hand, we may make our own the attractive forces
of the Spirit. Our lives may be filled with the power of
love, of righteousness, of self-sacrifice, and of truth, and
so we may weave our lives into an ever-growing fellow
ship of good, into that universe of blessedness where
"All are but parts of one stupendous whole,
Whose body Nature is, and God the soul."

371

The Empty House

CHAPTER XXIX
The Empty House
SPIRITUAL RELAPSE
Matt. 12:43^15
Text.— ''He findeth it empty."— Matt. 12:44
IN any sickness a relapse is more to be dreaded than
the original attack. Not only is the patient
weaker and less able to withstand the attack, but
the disease itself is usually more violent and
deadly. Hence the wise physician guards most
carefully against such a catastrophe. He does not satisfy
himself with merely driving out the intruder from
the system, but seeks to build up the strength of his
patient and to restore him to a condition of positive
health so that the returning germs may find no congenial
lodgment or even avenue of entrance into the organism
of the body.
In the treatment of bodily ills this principle is univer
sally recognized to-day, and we think more of cultivating
positive health than of the mere resistance or expulsion
of disease. The time is surely coming when we shall cease
to estimate the skill and worth of a physician by the
number of his cures or even the greatness of them, and
shall measure his value to the community by the fewness
of his cases. More and more clearly is it being seen
that the true function of the medical profession is to
build up positive health in individuals and the commu
nity, and not merely to cure or drive out disease.
375

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
When, however, we deal with moral and spiritual ills,
we are commonly satisfied with merely negative effort.
Our sole care is to expel evil, and we often fail to for
tify the life by the positive cultivation of the good. What
wonder if we are disheartened by many a fatal relapse?
It is this spiritual failure, resulting from inadequate
aims and methods in religious work, that confronted our
Lord and called forth the parable of which our text is
the focus.
The story is incomplete, in fact it can scarcely be called
a story at all, yet it is exceedingly vivid and dramatic.
Perhaps it is based upon some one of our Lord's many
miracles, the beneficent purpose of which had been frus
trated by the neglect of the one in whom it had been
wrought. However that may be, the circumstances of
condition and result are put before us in the most unmis
takable fashion, and the meaning of the picture is self-
evident. A demoniac has been set free from his terrible thral
dom, but has made no use of his freedom. The restored
mind is left vacant, the life is empty. The unclean spirit
personified is represented as wandering about in the vain
search for some other dwelling-place, and finally as re
turning to find his former abode "empty, swept, and
garnished." What is the result? He calls other spirits
to enter with him and take new and stronger possession.
In other words, there is a relapse of insanity with seven
fold increase of violence. Though allegorical in form,
the sketch is a literal description of disease and relapse
because of inadequate treatment. And in the most
literal interpretation it is remarkably true to the modern
germ theories of disease. The focus of the story is in
the words, "He findeth it empty." On this point all the
lines of the picture converge. Here is the kernel of the
truth. I have said that it was spiritual failure resulting from
inadequate aims and methods in religious work that called
376

SPIRITUAL RELAPSE
forth this first recorded parable of Jesus. It is like
failure, oft-repeated in our own lives and experience,
that gives to the parable its present interest, yes, that
makes its lesson of perennial value.
An interpretation of the parable seems almost un
necessary. Its meaning lies on its very surface. That
empty dwelling represents not merely a vacant mind in
viting the return of the evicted demon, it also mirrors
many an empty life, from which demons of sin in various
forms have been expelled,, but which has never been filled
with positive virtue or worthy activity. The message
of the parable is a message of warning against the folly
of merely negative effort in the battle with sin whether
it be in our hearts or in the world. Such effort it
declares to be futile. It is not enough to free a life from
evil, to drive out a given wrong from a community. "If
the work is to be permanent and successful, if it is to
have any real moral value, there must follow some posi
tive work by which the life shall be filled with that which
is good. Otherwise the relief will be temporary and a
reaction will surely follow. If the cleansed abode be left
unoccupied, the powers of evil will surely return and
entrench themselves anew with multiplied force.
To put the theme of the parable in a single sentence,
it teaches us that Emptiness invites evil.
Natural scientists have expressed the same truth in
other words. They tell us that "Nature abhors a vacu
um." That is to say, emptiness is unnatural. They
might almost say that emptiness is impossible and un
thinkable. Certainly it is contrary to the divine order
in the universe. Seek where you will you cannot find
a really empty space in the natural world. Remove any
substance from a given place and something else immedi
ately comes in to fill the space thus vacated. Every school
boy or girl is familiar with this law of matter. I take
a glass filled with water and pour out the contents. The
place originally occupied by the water is immediately
377

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
filled with air. To prove this I have only to fill the glass
with water once more and carefully place a sheet of stiff
paper over the top in such a manner as to exclude the
air. I can then invert the glass, holding it with its mouth
downwards, and the water will remain in the glass and
keep the paper in its place. Why is this ? Because there
is no opening for the admission of air, and the water
cannot come out till something else is admitted to take
its place. Leave never so small an opening for the ad
mission of air, and water and paper will fall to the
ground in an instant. It is a matter of great difficulty,
if not an absolute impossibility, to produce a vacuum for
any purpose.
Now what is true in nature is equally true in life.
Fulness is the divine order in the one sphere as truly
as in the other. The empty life violates a fundamental
law of nature. It is an anomaly. Not only so, but an
unused faculty or element of life, a vacant apartment in
the spiritual structure, is unnatural. The perfect man is
the full man, the complete man, the man with every
appetite and passion, every faculty and power, perfect
ly developed and wholly devoted to its appointed service.
Emptiness is not holiness, though it is often mistaken
for that, and is made the end of religious or moral
effort. How often, for example, do men speak of the
Ten Commandments as "The Moral Law." Now as a
matter of fact there is not the smallest item of morality
in the Decalogue. Those commands are mostly nega
tive and prohibitory. They are mere injunctions against
immorality. One may keep the Ten Commandments
perfectly and yet be utterly wanting in moral character.
A like notion inspires the everlasting "Don't" which
renders miserable the lives of so many children. And
we may find not a few Christian disciples whose religious
ideals are summed up in the phrase, "To keep himself
unspotted from the world." "But," you say, "is not that
ideal warranted by the Scriptures? Is it not the ideal
378

SPIRITUAL RELAPSE
which the apostle James has given to us?" Not by any
means. Those words form only a part of James' reli
gious ideal, and the last part at that. They are a sort
of spiritual afterthought. He lays down as first in im
portance certain positive and Christly service.
Our parable suggests several truths that have been
made familiar by the common experience of multitudes
of unsuccessful workers in the field of morals and re
ligion. First of these is the difficulty of maintaining an
empty life. We know how difficult it is to produce and
maintain even an approximate vacuum in the material
world. The instruments and vessels must be strong and
well made. Even then you must be content with partial
and imperfect results. It requires far greater strength
to hold nothing than to hold something, whatever that
something may be. Not otherwise is it with the life.
Here and there we see a man who can drive out some
evil habit or appetite or tendency from his life and keep
it out by sheer strength of will, but such men are few.
Where one succeeds hundreds fail. We wonder at the
weakness of men in the face of temptation, and blame
them for yielding, but we often fail to realize the great
ness of the task set for them.
What is true in the individual life is not less true in
the community or the State. The difficulty of enforcing
prohibitory laws is proverbial. We secure a prohibitory
enactment in the city or State and then call upon our offi
cials to enforce it. Do they fulfil our expectations?
Not once in a hundred times. Occasionally there arises
an official of extraordinary energy and devotion who
enforces the law when conditions are favorable. But
it calls for continual watchfulness and unflagging zeal.
Even then the chances are that for the sake of the one
ordinance many others are neglected. A Neal Dow be
comes famous for his enforcement of prohibition in his
own State, but he does not stand as a model executive
in other matters. So difficult a task is -it to enforce pro-
379

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
hibitory laws that it can only be done at the expense of
other important public duties, and then there come fre
quent and fatal reactions both in official zeal and public
opinion. The fact is that every vice whether individual or pub
lic represents a need of the life. It fills a part of the
life. To repress the vice without doing anything further
is to leave the need unsatisfied, that portion of life va
cant, and unless something else is given to supply the
need or to fill the emptied space, the life thus left vacant
offers a perpetual and urgent invitation for the return
of evil.
Again,, our parable depicts not only the difficulty but
also the danger of an empty life. The old proverb,
"Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do,"
is proving itself true every day. The young men and
women fr.om our quiet country towns come to the city
to seek a living. We recognize this transition as a time
of peculiar danger. Many a life that has been sober,
safe and promising in its early surroundings quickly
becomes the prey of evil amid the new scenes. Why?
Is the youth liable to temptation from shopmates while
busy at his tasks? No. The time of danger is in the
evening hours when the toil of the day is over and there
is nothing to do. The familiar occupations and pleasures,
the numerous companionships of the old home are gone,
and time hangs heavily on the hands. Then comes the
feeling of loneliness and vacancy, and almost any invi
tation is accepted as a means of filling the empty hours.
So it comes to pass that the idle hours of evening have
been the fatal weakness of many a young life. From
these idle hours has dated the beginning of wrong-doing.
What is the period of danger in the- life of a nation?
Is it the time of error and superstition? Is it the time
38Q

SPIRITUAL RELAPSE
when the people believe in false gods and blindly accept
the teachings of paganism ? No. It is rather the period
of religious vacancy which intervenes between the reign
of the false and the true. It is that period when the
people, convinced that the old religion is worthless, have
cast it aside and have not yet received any other faith
in its place. Agnosticism or doubt is infinitely more
dangerous than even false religion. It is spiritual emp
tiness which opens a willing door to temptation.
Spiritual emptiness is spiritual danger alike for youth
and for nations. There is safety in fulness. Tempta
tion finds no avenue of entrance into the occupied soul.
The busy life escapes many an assault that would be
fatal to the idler. We know not how much of our im
munity from moral evil we owe to the burdens that fill
our lives and of which we often complain most bitterly.
Furthermore, the empty life is the useless life. The
world is no richer for any number of lives that are merely
free from evil. The most respectable and spotless do-
nothing merely leaves a blank page in the volume of
history. It is positive virtue, active righteousness that
blesses the world.
The religion of the Jews was a religion of emptiness.
Their ideal of righteousness seemed to be mere inaction.
To them the holiness of the Sabbath demanded the pro
hibition of all labor of whatsoever sort. In the number
less prohibitions by which they interpreted and refined
the simple statements of the Fourth Commandment they
betray the notion that inaction or vacuity is holiness.
To do nothing on the Sabbath was to hallow the day
most perfectly.
The same religious ideal has prevailed in all ages. It
prevails to-day. Most of us believe that true piety con
sists largely in not doing wrong. In contrast with this
notion stands the gospel of Jesus Christ which is above
all things else a positive gospel. Its key^word is "Ful
ness." "Of his fulness have all we received," says John.
381

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
And Paul, grasping the true sense of the divine will,
prays for his brethren that they may "be filled with all
the fulness of God."
"The fulness of God"— that should be our thought
for ourselves and for all men. Not to lop off a vice here
and there ; not to repress or drive out different forms of
evil and to leave the life clean but empty, but to fill all
life with a divine fulness, to cultivate in all men a spirit
of positive righteousness, to employ every power and to
occupy every element of our human nature with holy
service — that should be the aim.
If emptiness invites evil, fulness assures freedom. The
great Dr. Chalmers of Scotland has a notable sermon on
"The Expulsive Power of a New Affection." There is
the gospel in a nutshell. Evil driven out and kept out
by the infilling of divine love — there is the secret of
easy and permanent triumph over temptation. There
is the infallible recipe for a strong and growing moral
character. Fill the life with the love of God. Fill the
mind with holy thoughts. Fill the soul with heavenly
aspirations. Fill the hands with Christly deeds. And
without effort, almost without consciousness, the sinful
thoughts and words and deeds will be expelled and kept
out of the life. The disease of sin will be naturally and
permanently displaced by the growing power of a posi
tive moral and spiritual health.

383

The Proof of
Obedience

CHAPTER XXX
The Proof of
Obedience THE TWO SONS
Matt. 21:28-32
Text.— " Which of the two did the will of his father ?"— Matt. 21:31
OPPOSITION from the chief priests and el
ders called forth this parable, and to them
it is primarily addressed. They had con
fronted Jesus in the midst of his beneficent
work and had challenged his authority.
In a brief but effectual manner .he had answered their
challenge and silenced -their criticism. Now he makes
a positive attacic^pon_their_ own claims, as religious
teachers,— with one parable forcing them to self-
condemnation, with a second leading them to pronounce
sentence upon themselves, and finally closing in upon
them with a third which was well calculated to drive the
truth home to their hearts.
The parable of The Two Sons, to which our present
thought will be given, follows close upon the discussion
of authority. Its purpose is to convict these captious
crirJcs^oiJheii^ain.fithess..to challenge_the authority of the
speaker or to critkijze_his_jyork. Its_methog~is~to con-
trasOHem witfi_a_£la§s_of .persons whomjtiiey_despised
to their own manifest disadvantage.
The "-details. Of the story are few and exceedingly sim
ple. There is no mistaking the personality of the father
or the significance of his command^ "Go work to-day in
385

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
my vineyard." It is a common representation of the
heavenly Father's call to obedience_and service.
The first son, with his surly "I will not" followed by
repentance and active obedience, plainly stands for those
who had rudely disregarded the commands of God, liv
ing in open sin, but had been touched by the power of the
Spirit and brought to repentance — the publicans and
sinners who had welcomed the preaching of John the
Baptist and had profited by it.
The second son, with his ready "I go, sir" that is not
followed by obedient action, no less clearly represents
those who profess a willingness to obey God, who fall
in with the approved forms and services of religion, but
who really live for themselves alone. In short, he rep
resents the chief priests and elders themselves with their
respectability and conventional piety which had not in it
a single spark of love for God or genuine devotion to
his service.
The story ended,, the Master guards against any false
application and compels attention to its vital point by the
question, "Whether of them twain did the will of his
father?" To that question there can be but one answer,
and the hearers reply as with a single voice, "The
first" Then comes the home thrust of personal application
which is now absolutely unavoidable. "Verily I say unto
you, That the publicans and the harlots go into the king
dom of God before you. For John came unto you in
the way of righteousness, and ye believed him not: but
the publicans and the harlots believed him : and ye, when
ye had seen it, repented not afterward, that ye might be
lieve him."
Thus these men who professed to recognize God's
authority, setting themselves up as champions of re
ligion and defenders of the faith, are self-convicted of
utter irreligion. By their own judgment they are de
clared to be the disobedient ones, wholly indifferent to
386

THE TWO SONS
the authority which they acknowledge. Their very
quibblings about authority and their refinements of law
and precept are but schemes for evading obedience to
that divine will to which they profess unswerving
allegiance. Sn^rrmch for jhe historic setting. That is only the
frjme^ofJh£_m£roE OHTuTnc^wTookTnto the poUihed
surface of the mirror itself that we may discover what
larger truth it will reveal to us. The story reflects the
American life of to-day as clearly as it did the Jewish
life of our Lord's time. The chief priests and elders are
away in the background now. Let them fade wholly
from sight. , Those faces right at the front are yours
and mine. Preachers of the gospel, leading church-mem
bers, highly reputable citizens are here reflected.
Before we study the figures reflected in its surface,
let us carefully adjust the mirror lest it send back to us
a distorted image. In other words, let us make sure that
we get the details of the story each in its proper relation
and with the true emphasis.
Where is the focus of the parable? Upon what point
does the significant emphasis rest? On thp answers
whiVh tfrg yni-mg men^gam .toJtbeir .. father's . command ?
Clearly not; else Jesus would have made that the point
of his application. He concentrates the thought, not
uponlhen-answers. but upon their action. In the light
of his interpretation the force and meaning of the para
ble lie in the contrasted verbs, "wejgcti and "went not."
It is_a_picJuxe_of-johedience inxontrast with disobedience.
It is doing over against not. doing.
No jdjsjinct. -point is_ made regarding, the answers, of
thp two sons. -They have no independent significance i
in the story. Their purpose is merely tributary. Their
import lies in the added emphasis which they give to the
contrasted action. The first refusal of the one makes
the Jinal_obedience more' noticeable,, as first assent ren
ders more conspicuous the final disobedience of the other.
387

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Let us dwell upon this point a moment longer, for it
is vital. A superficial interpretation of this pa,rt~of~the
parable has made-JjLan~appai^nt£xte.n,iia.tiQnuafU£aLu.n-
righTeousness. Let us then-be very. clear .as~to»iis. exact
bearing at the outset- Neither in the narxativ£-itself..nor
in its application by our Lord is there anyapprwaLof -the
rad^ 'Twill not" of- the first son. His answer is not
excused or condoned. TJberejLiiaildsjadth-its-awnjcon-
demnation . stanjp.ed„-tipoa its very face. It is -wholly
wrong. It has .no. merit, but is inexcusable., It.is-not
an aid to obedience. It does not bespeak anything good
in him who utters it, not even. frankness; fox boorishness
is hot frankness. We find in the answer no promise of
coming repentance and service. So far as it goes, it is
a promise of disobedience; hence it is evil and only evil.
In itself it is a serious obstacle Jojight action. The obe
dience that followed is rendered more difficult and un
likely by this refusal.
Again, fix firmly in your mind the fact that the vital
contrast in the picture is the contrast between doing and
not doing. The parable is not a popular tirade on "Prac-
tise^er^susjJioiess.ioffl." The action of the first son,
expressed in the words, "Afterward he repented, and
went," is not in any way set over against the answer of
thTaegoridV-'I go, sir." No comparison is made or im
plied between works and words. Action is contrasted
with inaction ; and the counter contrast of the replies is
simply a side-light by which the central truth is more
vividly illuminated.
We shall miss the point of the parable if we ask,
"Which, was- the better. of ±he.-two- sons?" or, "Which of
the sons did Jesus approve?" We are not concerned
with comparative goodness. Jesus did not . approve
either of the young men. Both of them did wrong,- -But
the first, becoming ashamed of his wrong-doing, repents
arid begins to do right. And that is the only- commend
able thing about him. The single question which the
388

THE TWO SONS

parable is designed to enforce is one of obediencg-aad
disobedience. It is embodied in the words, "J&helhcr
of them twain did the milLja£J3is-ia4;he,r ?"
Interpreting the parable, it is very natural to say, The
two sons represent two contrasted -classes^ of men. In
one we see the type of that class who have come to God
by repentance from lives of open sin and ungodliness.
Having forsaken their evil ways they have given them
selves to humble obedience and hearty service. The
other is a picture of those more respectable and pliable
persons who, with an easy-going conformity to popular
ideals, have declared their purpose to live in . obedience
to the divine commands, but whose daily lives do not
make good their promise.
It is no uncommon thing for an out-and-out sinner,
standing upon the supposed ground of this parable, to
railjtJie^J^pxtcrite^ within the Christian Xhurch->andJto
takegreaLjcrfidit to^himself for his own sincerity; as
thougn~Jesus had instituted a contrast between blas
phemer of "vileness and hypocrisy, commending the one
and^condemriing the other.
Such a'use of the parable grows out of two false or at
least groundless assumptions. First,, it assumes.4hat»the |
answer of the- first son. "I will- not." is in itself praise-
yjqrth^T Again, it assumes that the "I go. sir/' nf thp
second was intentionally untrue. In point of fact neither
Ofthese "assumptions Is warranted by the story. On the
contrary every intelligent reader of the New Testament
must feel that the. reply of the first sn^ wffg altngpthpr
rude_aad-Ji»fil*al. Had he made his words true by act
ual disobedience, his conduct would present no redeem
ing feature. He is saved from unqualified condemna
tion only by his subsequent shame, repentance, and dili
gent service. And as to the second, whatever its purpose,
his answer is the only one befitting a true and loyal son.
It is clearly framed by the Master to win our approval*
and the ground of condemnation is not hypocrisy in word,
389

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
but failure in deed. We may well grant that at the mo
ment of speaking he meant what he said, and that he real
ly intended to go to work. Give him the benefit of the
doubt. Still, he is a disobedient son. Neglect is no less
fatal to obedience than is hypocrisy.
Could anything be more absurd, in the light of this
parable,, than the attitude of the man who says, "I make
no professionx_th£xefore--nothing-is-"to-be-- expectetFof
me:"' Did therefusal c^fjthe..firsL son in the- slightest
degreeTeiionjthe pressure.._of Jhis-duty-to obey-hisJather ?
OiTdiH 'the assent of the second add a feather's weight
to his respojisibility ? Of course not. Theyjvere^sons,
and that word "son" is_not meaningless. Each was in
duty. bound to obey the father. So every mznjfirTdnty
bound to obey God and to render him willing service.
ButyTs ah absoTuFe and universal matter growing out of
our natural relations to God and our fellow men. It is
not in any degree conditioned upon our personal ac
knowledgment or repudiation. The church-member is no
more bound to live uprightly than the non-church-mem
ber. The most outspoken unbeliever in the community
is just as truly responsible for the preaching of the gospel
and the conduct of highest philanthropies as is the de
vout churchman or the most active Christian worker.
We waste a great deal of time and mental energy
comparing or contrasting sins. We ask which is worse,
our sin or the sin of our neighbor, and we are pretty
sure to conclude that his is the worse. Jesus brings us
directly to the vital issue. All disobedience is sin, and
will if persisted in result in spiritual death. The one
great question for every life is not, Am I better than
some one else ? but, Am I doing the will of the heavenly
Father? Am I living up to the standard of duty that
God places before me?
If, therefore, we must find two classes whom the sons
represent, the first class would be composed of repenting
sinners, earnestly striving to atone for past wrong by
390

THE TWO SONS
present faithfulness and diligence; the second, of those
who, declaring their purpose to obey God, for any rea
son fail to render the promised service. Unrepentant
sinners, however frank they may be in acknowledging
their position, cannot find shelter in any part of this story.
Its one appeal is to repentance and loving service.
Can we not, however, come closer to the heart of the
parable than is possible by this method? Will it not
speak to us more effectively if we put away all thought
of contrasting classes of men or anything else outside
of ourselves? Let each one of us search for his own
moral features in both the sons. Forget everybody else
for a moment. Here are two relations in which any
one of us may stand towards God. Here are two atti
tudes of heart, two courses of action quite possible to
you and to me — may I not say, two attitudes often ex
emplified in us?
You may have said to the commands of God, you
may be saying at this moment, "I will not." Now look
in this m^irjrcxarjd-^ee-whethpj^H^r^attitude is one Jtcube
pro_id__Q£3T Is the-first view of that_first son a .pleasing
oneiL Do not look at the- other son. We have nothing
to do with him Just now. Do_nol„b£gin to-sajy^'Wxll,
Lmay be disobement-iiut. at aU. jey.ents„L.am_no Jhypo-
crite." WJjaLoLbhat ? Will it help the. man who. is Jyjng
of_smaj]pox jn the hospital, to say with a complacent
sneer, "Well, I may be very sick, hut I havenit the. yellow
fever hkj that miserable fellow over there in -the- Jiext
cot.'? Of course not, you say. Neither will it help you
in any way to point to some other sinner who is worse
in your estimation than yourself. Comparisons are use
less. Worsejhan that, they may be-ialarijK^eep^our
eye_flnJj3P^nc_man.---Is he doing the^wilLof Jhisjather ?
No._ H.eis.£ebellious, disobedient,, wicked. He is trying
to buttress his disobedience with refusal. And that is a
picture of yourself. Do you admire it? Do you feel like
boasting of it? No, no ! Its one message to you is "Re-
391

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
pent !" Prove by future obedience,Jhal^ojoje^as.haraed
of present, sin. Let"the~first sonjbe your mgdeJLhiit nnt
in hisungracious denial Imitate his penitent service.
LeTthe'faithfulness ofyour epdeavorahd the willingness
of your sacrifice be the witnesses of your sincerity. Do
not cheat yourself with the notion that mere blunt hon
esty, unblushing candor, is praiseworthy. But one thing
is praiseworthy — to do the will of your heavenly Father.
Again, I may be like the second son, assenting to the
COmmands-JaUoOd '" an easy, gnad^naim^A-^atsk^ai a
way, meaning to obey them,_ yet. never., fulfilling my
promise because of neglect or temptation. Nothing is
easier and few~"thmgs more"common than to mistake
mere_as^eru^J5^3i^ne3THh for obedience to the_diyjne
wHET A great deaToI our modern Christianity .consists
in simply saying, "I go, sir," to God, and does not. rep
resent any form of doing God's will. We recite our
well- framed creeds, we say "Amen" to. our prayers, with
apparent, fervor, but our lives are not affected thereby.
We do not translate our creeds and our prayers into
deeds of righteousness and love.
Not aJewjoijJJ5_saJisfxpurselyes with being well, .dis
pose^ towards xchgion. WLenjoy_the ^reaching jaf the
gospel. We take delight in the forms of worship and"the
services of God's house, and are desirous that they should
be the_bgsL.nossible. We wish to be numbered among
the obedientchildren of God because we regularly patron
ize the chuEch_andJier services, but we are not. always
careful to ask„ whether in our daily lives we are doing
the will of "the Father.
. Now religious enjoyment J&J3atJChxisJJanitv. Hear
ing, beueving, admiring trutijijsjnot obedience to God.
It will not save our own souls nor help others ." "We must
• do the truth if. it is. to bless anybody. We must not only
^believe and admire the words of Jesus, we must obey
them, if they are to exert a regenerating force in and
through us. 392

THE TWO SONS
I see in the second son also a preacher of repentance.
I hear him utter the words of warning, "Stay not with
saying, I go ; butjgOjWork." Make your practise accord
with yxmr-profe^stonT Make your life enforce your creed.
Carry out your good intentions, or they will prove a
snare to you. "Not every one that saith unto me, Lord,
Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he
that doeth the will of my Father who is in heaven."
The mirror reflects living truth. At this moment the
heavenly Father is saying to each pne of us, "Son, go
work to-day in my vineyard." On every hand are the
calls for seryjce that are the echoesjjf tJje,Fa,thgils, voice.
You__MiyZh£ar.-that_.yoice ."in, every. gospel .appeal to sur
render, confession and consecration. You may see that
beclEming hand in every life_ that needs your help, in
eveiQn_jusig~3li^ needs assistance,, and every wrong-that
needs resistance. The vineyard of the Lord is all about
ynjf, nnt f>r off, but close at hand; and in it there is
work enough for .every obedient son. For want of la
borers theuweeds are growing and the vines are drooping.
Not„ou&„Qf us but may find countless opportunities of
service for God and man. It is a call to arduous toil,
to patient and ceaseless endeavor. And the call is im
mediate — "Go, work-to-day,"

393

The Irrepressible
Conflict

CHAPTER XXXI
The Irrepressible
Conflict
THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN
Matt. 21:33-41; Mark 12:1-9; Luke 20:9-16
Text. — "The inheritance shall be ours. " — Mark 12:7
THE Irrepressible Conflict" . is a conflict of
wills. The endless struggle between good
and ill, between right and wrong, between
the kingdom of light and the kingdom of
darkness, is at bottom a struggle between
self-will and the will of God. The fall .of man resulted
from the first assertion of self-will in rebellion against
divine law. Complete redemption will follow complete and
unconditional surrender of the human will to the will of
the heavenly Father. Meanwhile the one sin and dan
ger of the race, the sin that embraces and comprehends
all other sin, the danger that overhangs every other
danger, is the assertion of self-will on the part of the
child and the determination to make self-will supreme.
Thi * is the truth expressed in the parable of The
Vineyard and the Husbandman. Originally and super
ficially it is a parable of Jewish history. In its details
we see an accurate picture of the dealings of Jehovah
with Israel and the return which the Jewish people made
to his love. "Planted a vineyard," "Set a hedge," "Digged
a winepress," "Built a tower," what are these but so
many types of the special care and blessing bestowed
397

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
upon the "chosen people"? Do they not suggest spe
cifically the founding of the nation, the wonderful sepa
ration of the one people from all others, the peculiar
opportunities for service enjoyed, and the divine reve
lation committed to them? Do they not at the same time
present a cumulative reason for national obedience and
fruitfulness in the service of God ?
The successive messengers who were sent to receive
the fruits of the vineyard on behalf .of their lord, do they
not call to our minds the long line of prophets who came
to Israel only to be rejected and driven out with bitter
persecution? Elijah pursued by the ceaseless hatred of
Ahab and Jezebel, Zechariah stoned to death in the reign
of Joash, Jeremiah imprisoned in the foulest of dun
geons, Isaiah sawn asunder by order of Manasseh, and,
last of all, John the Baptist beheaded to satisfy the wrath
of Herod's guilty wife — these all came as messengers of
God calling for the fruits of godliness in the life of
the nation; and one after another they were "beaten,"
"shamefully handled," or "killed." After these comes
the Son in the person of Jesus himself, with the fore
shadowing of his death.
Is it strange that his hearers "perceived that he spake
this parable against them"? Would they not have been
stupid indeed had they failed to note the parallelism?
The application of his words is clear as midday. And
is it not equally clear that Jesus sums up the reason
both of their fathers' hatred of the prophets and of their
own opposition to himself in the words, "the inheritance
shall be ours"? Ahab, Manasseh and Herod were very
different men from the scribes and Pharisees of our
Lord's time; but they had one quality in common with
them — self-will. This it was that persecuted the proph
ets, and_ this it was that even now conspired to slay
the Christ. Had the prophets conformed their message
to the will of the people, they would have been canon
ized as saints and subsidized as statesmen. Had Jesus
393

THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN
obeyed the will of the recognized religious teachers of
his age instead of making the will of God supreme, he
would have been received by them with open arms, pro
claimed by them as the expected Messiah, and they would
have followed him to the death. But with Jesus it was,
"Thy will be done," while with the Pharisees it was,
"Our will be done." Between these two there can be
only the most deadly enmity.
Such is the original message of our parable as clearly
revealed in its setting and confirmed by its effect. For
those who heard it, this message was final and vital. For
us it is secondary and unimportant. We may be in
terested to note the bearing of the Master's words upon
his Jewish auditors, but if we stay with that, the parable
will be of trifling value to ourselves. It is for us to
seek its present message, its living- and permanent
message. With the clearer light of a world gospel, let us cast
the picture on the larger screen of universal human life
and conduct. The Jews perceived that he spake of them.
It is for you and me to see that he speaks of us. The
parable is a reflection of human life in general, of our
lives in particular. Let us draw the lines on this larger
scale. "A man planted a vineyard." Every nation, every
human life, is a planting of the Lord. To each one of
us God has given talents, resources, privileges, possi
bilities, the varied elements of our common life; and
these are the soil from which may be produced all the
fruits of noblest manhood to enrich the kingdom of
God. More than this, has not every life its hedge of
divine Providence protecting it from enemies that would
mar its fruitfulness? Is any life without its wine-press
of opportunity or its tower of revelation?
God has not held these things in his own keeping, to
be worked by slaves. He has let them out to us, free,
independent husbandmen. All these marvelous gifts of
399

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
God are in the hands of men, in your hands and mine,
to be used as we will. But with such provision has he
not a right to expect the fruits of personal development,
of human progress, of righteous living, of a continual
growth and perfecting of the race through the growth
and perfection of individuals ?
It is a grand truth that we are stewards of God. For
stewardship implies two elements of greatness — free
dom and responsibility. The vineyard is in our hands
and we can do as we please with it so long as it remains
with us. We may cultivate it thoroughly and make it
bring forth abundantly, or we may neglect it and let it
grow up to weeds and unfruitfulness.
In this freedom lies the secret of largest possibilities
for our life. God might have made us mere machines,
doing his will from necessity. He might have made us
mere animals, creatures of instinct, capable of nothing
but to look on while he wrought out every change by
the direct action of his own power. But had he done
so, the infinite possibilities of the divine life would not
have been ours.
We are free, and our freedom is the ground of our
duty. For this very cause we should be diligent,, earnest,
faithful. The slave has no duty, no responsibility, be
cause he has no liberty of action and no hope of attain
ment. Our liberty is complete, our hope boundless;
therefore God may justly look to us for the fruits of
attainment and service.
Thus far the reflection is clear enough. Thus far we
can see that Jesus spoke of us. We all doubtless recog
nize the fact that we are husbandmen in the Lord's
vineyard, in duty bound to cultivate it faithfully and to
render to him the fruits. But how about the next point?
Can that have any bearing upon our lives ? The rejected
messengers, who are they? Surely we have never ill-
treated the Lord's prophets. We have never stoned or
slain them. Have we not? Think a moment
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THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN
How long is it since Love joy, a prophet of the anti-
slavery movement, was slain in the streets of an Amer
ican city, and many others bearing the same message
were hooted and mobbed? Has not more than one
active temperance reformer shared the same fate? Are
not many earnest social reformers sneered at and boy
cotted by even nominally Christian people?
But these are public and national. What of the per
sonal? Have you never refused to listen when some
one pointed out to you an unwelcome duty? Have you
never slain a friendship because the friend was too
frank in speaking of your failings or of your responsibili
ties? Have you never cast stones of slander or ridicule
at one who presumed to demand of you the fruit of
positive service or of personal devotion?
We are not talking just now of matters purely relig
ious. These servants of the householder do not all
wear black coats and white ties. They come to us in
many forms, but we have no doubt as to their commis
sion. Wherever one reveals to you an opportunity to
do good or offers to you the chance to take an advance
step in your life,, wherever one points to a wrong which
you can help to right or an evil which you can help to
remove, wherever one shows a service that you can ren
der or a truth that you can champion, there is a servant
of the householder come to receive the fruit of his
vineyard. Are not such messengers coming to us daily? And
are we not daily rejecting them, some with mere in
difference, others violently and with murderous hatred?
Do we not slam the door in the face of many an oppor
tunity and say to many a suggestion of duty, "Begone!"?
Oh, yes ; I think the lines in this part of the picture are
coming out quite clearly.
What about that one who asked you to contribute a
little of your spare money to a good cause? You
snubbed him and sent him empty away, although you
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
might have given it easily ; and you know that you ought
to have given it. What about the committee that re
quested you to take a thankless public office, and you
refused with a contemptuous remark concerning the
corruption of politics? You could have done much for
the community had you been willing to undertake the
work. What about that woman who asked you to use
your influence against a great wrong which you might
have helped to overcome? You told her that you were
no more responsible than many others, and sent her
away discouraged. All these and many others were ser
vants of the householder, and you treated them shame
fully. The last resort is always the Son. To every one
come these inferior messengers, and we treat them as
we have seen. To every one also comes the Christ, at
some time or other comes the perfect representative of
the Father, comes with full authority and power.
The servants embody specific and partial require
ments. They speak to us of special duties to be done,
special opportunities to be improved. The Christ rep
resents the completeness of duty, the perfection of ser
vice. Who responds to his demand renders the en
tire fruitage of the vineyard. The Christ stands for
entire self-surrender to the will of God. That is the
essence of his life. It is the pith of his gospel. "My
meat is to do the will of him that sent me," is his own
declaration. And in the extreme test of the Gethsemane
trial he cries, "Not my will, but thine, be done."
The same is the crucial test of discipleship, entire self-
surrender to the will of God. We of to-day are no more
willing to make such surrender than were the chief
priests and elders of our Lord's day. Ready enough we
are to make sacrifices, to endure persecutions, to under
take the most burdensome tasks and duties and to go on
the most disagreeable missions, if in doing these we can
only retain our self-will. We welcome penances, we
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THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN
delight in beneficence, we court martyrdom. But sur
render our self-will ? Never !
For this we slay the Son and cast him out, saying,
"The inheritance shall be ours." We will save the world;
we will work and strive; we will even make untold sac
rifices for the elevation of men and for the relief of the
suffering; we will give and toil and suffer; only let us
do it in our own way ; let us preserve our independence ;
let us be guided by our own wisdom and measured by
our own standards. So even the Church many times be
comes merely an instrument of human reforms and
benevolences, instead of being an instrument in the hands
of God for the accomplishment of his work. We often
preach a gospel of worldly wisdom, and our prayers
say in effect, "My will, not thine, be done."
In the parable of The Two Sons which immediately
precedes the one we are studying, Jesus had brought out
the great truth that righteousness is obedience to the
will of God. Its design is to show the utter worthless-
ness of even the most pleasing life that is not fashioned
by an honest effort to obey the commands of the heavenly
Father. In the present parable the thought is carried a step
farther. Self-will is the essence of all sin, and leads to
inevitable destruction. The parable concludes with the
words, "What therefore will the lord of the vineyard
do? he will come and destroy the husbandmen, and
will give the vineyard unto others." According to the
evangelist Matthew, this answer to the Lord's question
is spoken by his hearers ; and that is most natural. Does
not every reader pronounce the same judgment upon the
husbandmen of the story? Furthermore, is not that the
inevitable result of the conduct which the story repre
sents? Just judgment is instinctive because it harmo
nizes with the universal laws of God. Self-will is inevi
table self-destruction. Disobedience to the will of God
works out its own penalty, first in loss of opportunity, and
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
afterwards in loss of vital power. We are our own
judges. Ourselves execute the law and inflict the penalty.
Safety and progress are in complete and willing self-
surrender to the will of God.
We turn back the pages of history, and read the story
of Jewish rebellion and sin, and we wonder at the blind
and wilful obstinacy of that ancient people. We readily
persuade ourselves that they were peculiar in their per
versity, and that the age of such blindness is long past.
We are sure that no one would be guilty of like ingrati
tude and rebellion to-day. In point of fact, however, the
lesson of this parable is no less pertinent to the American
life of the twentieth century than to the Jewish life of
our Lord's time and in the centuries preceding. The
same spirit of self-will prevails now as then. Doubtless
its outward manifestation has changed, is continually
changing, but the spirit remains the same and works out
the same fatal results.
It is a mere truism to say that the present is an ex
ceedingly self-sufficient age. Never was a time when
men felt greater confidence in their own ability to solve
all great problems and to meet all emergencies,, never a
time when they were more impatient of control or sub
ordination. To be sure, there is little positive atheism
or outspoken ungodliness. The age is too intelligent for
that. But our very Christianity is wanting in the spirit
of obedience and self -sur render. We are Christians in
belief and in outward forms of worship. But too often
even our Christian standards are the expression of human
wisdom rather than of the divine will. Too often we
ask regarding any custom or course of conduct, What
is expedient? or, What is popular? rather than, What is
the teaching of Jesus Christ?
Modern systems of reform, modern standards of
ethics, modern ideals of society and politics, are based
chiefly upon various systems of unchristian philosophy.
Men wise in their own conceits propound schemes of
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THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN
progress that seem to promise better things than the
simple gospel of Jesus Christ, and the Christian world
goes wild over them. We are fond of talking about the
problems of our time. There are the various social
and financial problems, political problems, religious prob
lems. How shall we solve them? Apply the principles
of the gospel, and follow them wherever they may lead?
To many that does not seem practical. The "Golden
Rule," the Sermon on the Mount, these are looked upon
as beautiful ideals for the pulpit and the prayer-meeting,
but most of us do not think of them as practical laws
for every-day living, for society and trade and legisla
tion. So we work out laws and systems of our own on
the lines of compromise, expediency, philosophy and
what not. Result, disaster and confusion worse con
founded. To-day the Almighty is sending his messengers to the
Christian people of America demanding the fruits of his
vineyard. He is calling for fruits of godly citizenship,
fruits of missionary endeavor, fruits of Christian states
manship and leadership among the nations of the world.
It is not enough that we lead the world in enlightenment
and invention and wealth, not enough that we surpass
all others in intellectual power and commercial greatness.
What of the spiritual life of our people? What of our
influence upon the millions who seek a refuge on our
shores ? What of the effort to spread the gospel of Christ
and the kingdom of God among the nations of the earth?
God rightly expects much in these directions from us.
If we fail to fulfil his just requirements, shall it not be
with us as with Israel of old? If we send our armies
to civilize nations with the sword, if in a spirit of
crass materialism we say, Trade follows the flag, and
give ourselves up to conquest and expansion, instead of
believing that trade and prosperity follow the Bible, is
it not certain that we too shall be driven forth from the
405

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
vineyard, and other husbandmen brought in who will
deliver to the Lord the fruits in due season?
The parable is fraught with solemn and practical sug
gestion. If as a Christian people we heed its message,
then shall we find our own growth and immortality se
cured through earnest consecration to the great work
to which God has appointed us.

403

The Law of Spiritual
Reaction

CHAPTER XXXII
The Law of Spiritual
Reaction
THE TWO DEBTORS
Text. — "Which of them therefore will love hm most? " — Luke 7:42
THE law of action and reaction is absolutely
impartial. It is also universal. Our early
studies in mechanics taught us that "Ac
tion and reaction are always precisely equal
and .opposite in direction" ; but we thought
of the law as applying only to material things and to
physical forces. Wider observation discovers the same
law working with no less certainty and effectiveness in
the realms of mind and spirit. "A law of nature," we
say. Yes, and by the same token, a law of the kingdom
of God.
The blacksmith with all the strength of his brawny
arm brings down his hammer with a ringing blow upon
the anvil. The anvil returns the blow with equal force
upon the hammer. I hurl a stone into the air and the
earth draws it downwards by the force of gravity. By
the same force of gravity and with exactly equal strengtii
the stone draws the earth towards itself. And these, that
we call the observed facts of nature, are but types of
what is going on in every sphere of life from the most
grossly material to the most subtly spiritual.
A great preacher has spoken of "The profound re
sponsiveness of life." "How clear they are," he says,
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
"and how they call and answer each other — the world
and man!" And he goes on to illustrate the wonderful
adaptation and balance between human powers and facul
ties and the conditions by which man is surrounded, the
challenge of mystery to mind, of hardship to strength,
of difficulty to enthusiasm and earnestness of purpose.
Change the relation. Let it be not the world and man
but God and man,, and you still find the same responsive
ness. There is the call of the divine Spirit and the re
sponse of the human soul. There is the aspiration of
man's heart and the ready answer of God's love. Be
tween these there is the same absolute equality, the same
sure and perfect balance that we observe in the play of
gravity. In all the myriad phases of spiritual experience or the
most subtle shadings of moral character you cannot find
a solitary illustration of caprice or uncertainty. Theo
logians once delighted to speak of God as bestowing his
favors not because of any conditions foreseen or observed
in the recipient, but merely "for his own good pleasure."
Modern intelligence has forever dethroned this deifica
tion of an Oriental tyrant and offers its worship only to
a just and impartial Divinity who works in accordance
with clearly defined laws and for assignable reasons. We
have learned that law is diviner than license and cer
tainty more godlike than caprice, and following out the
truth thus suggested we are beginning to discover the
fact that moral growth and spiritual experiences are al
ways to be exactly measured by the real desire in the
heart. On the one hand, God does not bestow his gifts
unsought; and on the other, no faintest breath of true
desire ever fails to reach the heavenly Father's ear or to
receive an adequate reply.
We have been slow to grasp this message and to teach
it to others ; nevertheless it is the very message that Jesus
published in the streets of Jerusalem and among the vil
lages of Judea and Galilee. It is the essential truth that
41f)

THE TWO DEBTORS
he has embodied in the parable of The Two Debtors.
Let us see.
The parable is brief and unadorned, the simplest
statement of facts. "A certain lender," says the Master,
"had two debtors : the one owed him five hundred pence,
and the other fifty. When they had not wherewith to
pay, he frankly forgave them both." There is the whole
story. You see it is incomplete and, taken in itself,
meaningless. We must have the setting if we are to get
an interpretation. Put in the background and the story
will glisten with truth. Here you have it.
A Pharisee named Simon invites Jesus to dine with
him. He is more patronizing than polite,, more curious
than courteous; yet Jesus accepts his overture and wel
comes the opportunity for religious conversation. As
they recline at table not a few persons take the Oriental
privilege of coming in, though uninvited, to stand or sit
about the outer walls of the room and listen to the con
versation of the distinguished company. Among these
comes a woman who has borne an ill name in the city,
and doubtless justly enough, but who has apparently re
pented of her life of sin and, touched by some former
kindness of the Master, has forsaken her evil ways.
As a token of her gratitude she has brought a box of
costly ointment with which to anoint her Saviour; but
when she approaches the foot of his couch she is over
whelmed with emotion and bursts into tears, washing his
feet with her tears and wiping them with her hair. Only
then can she pour out upon him her rich and fragrant
gift. Simon is scandalized that such a person should enter
his house, and yet more that Jesus should not at once
perceive her character and scornfully reject her tribute
of love. "This man if he were a prophet," says Simon to
himself, "would have perceived who and what manner
of woman this is that toucheth him, that she is a sinner."
Simon himself is no prophet, consequently he sees only
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
what any man could see — the tokens of sin in the
woman's countenance. Jesus sees more than he. He
sees a sinner repentant, forgiven, redeemed. With more
than a prophet's insight he sees the beginnings of a new
and holy life where others can see naught but the foot
prints of evil. Not only so, but he also perceives the
movement of Simon's mind. He hears the unspoken
words. He catches the critical and contemptuous
thought. And quietly he proceeds to expose and rebuke
them. First he utters the simple parable of The Two Debt
ors. Then he puts to Simon a direct question : "Which
of the two will love his creditor most because of this
forgiveness ?" To this question Simon replies with more
frankness than precision, "He, I suppose, to whom he
forgave the most." From the truth contained in this an
swer Jesus draws an inference regarding Simon and the
woman. He marks the contrast between the less than
scant politeness of the Pharisee and the humble and
eager affection of the despised sinner. On the one hand,
no water for his feet, no ointment for his head, no kiss
of greeting as he entered ; on the other, the bathing of his
feet with tears and drying them with her hair, the anoint
ing of feet rather than head indicating the profound
humility of her spirit, and even the eager kiss repeated
again and again in token of her love. What is the con
clusion? What could it be but this? — "I say unto thee,
Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved
much." Just a word regarding the last clause. Do not mis
understand the argument. Jesus does not here say, "She
is forgiven because she loved much," but rather, if I
rightly interpret his words, "I say unto thee, Her sins,
which are many, are forgiven as is indicated by the
greatness of her love." In other w.ords, this excessive
manifestation of her love is not the ground of her for
giveness, but it is the ground of his declaration, since one
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THE TWO DEBTORS
who had little sense of forgiveness would not manifest
such great love.
Jesus then turns to the woman and reassures her with
the declaration, "Thy sins are forgiven," and when those
present express amazement he adds, "Thy faith hath
saved thee; go in peace." Not that the woman was not
already conscious that she was forgiven, but that her
consciousness needed confirmation in the presence of un
belief and scorn.
The application, of this parable to Simon himself is
unavoidable in view of our Lord's unfoldment of it.
Since, by the Pharisee's own acknowledgment, love is
proportioned to the sense of forgiveness, we may justly
measure the sense of forgiveness by the revelation of
love. Simon had manifested no love at all. His spirit
had been that of condescending patronage. He had
neglected the most common acts of courtesy. Clearly,
therefore, he had no consciousness of either the need or
the fact of forgiveness. By contrast, the overflowing
love of this poor woman as clearly argued both the sense
of need and the joyful consciousness of the fact.
In all that is said, no accusation of sin is made against
Simon, nor is there any attempt to belittle the sinfulness
of the woman. Jesus plainly declares to her the truth,
"Thy sins, which are many," yet the Pharisee makes a
poor showing in the light of the contrast, and he must
have been extremely thick-skinned and self-satisfied if
his conscience did not suggest to him the possibility that
he too needed forgiveness. His life had been immeasur
ably more clean and pure and respectable than the life
of this outcast, but it had been a loveless life. There had
been nothing in his religion to stir the feelings and kindle
the emotions, while she, out of the very depths of vile-
ness, had been lifted to an ecstasy of joy and blessing.
That was indeed a time for deep and thorough heart
searching on the part of Simon.
Let us leave him to his task, while we ask, What has
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
this compound parable for us? — "this compound par
able," I say; for the incident taken as a whole is really
a parable within a parable. The parable of Jesus is but
one element in the larger parable of the gospel. True,
the little story told by the Master is the kernel, but we
must break through the shell before we can come at it.
In other words, we must discover the bearing of the par
able by taking it in connection with the incident as a
whole. In the larger parable we have the vivid contrast be
tween a respected Pharisee and a despised and degraded
woman. It is a contrast between respectability and
shame. That is unquestionable. Simon flatters himself
that it is equally a contrast between righteousness and
sin; and Jesus does not directly dispute this assumption.
On the contrary, he practically grants its truth for the
sake of the deeper lesson which he desires to teach.
In the hypothetical case sketched in the parable there
is a real contrast between two debtors, one of whom owes
five hundred pence while the other owes but fifty, though
both are insolvent and both are freely released from their
indebtedness. It is as though Jesus had said, "Simon,
I recognize the vast moral difference between yourself
and this woman. Your life has been far more pure and
pleasing than hers, and it may be that your debt to God
on that score is less than hers ; but God is ready to for
give you both with equal freedom. Now this woman's
spirit and conduct indicate that she is already forgiven
of God, though not of society, while your manner im
plies that you have neither sought nor received for
giveness." Enough, then, of Simon and the outcast woman whom
we are not concerned to identify, nor even to consider
further. They have played their full part in the drama
before us. Turn now to the wider scope of the story in
its universal application. It is a parable of the relation
of forgiveness and love, of the mutual responsiveness of
414

THE TWO DEBTORS
God and man, of spiritual action and reaction. It un
folds a general law that has a vital bearing upon the
spiritual life. Briefly that law may be stated thus : —
A man's love for God will invariably be commensurate
with his sense of divine forgiveness.
Mark the words, "his sense of forgiveness." I think
you will agree with me that the difference between fifty
and five hundred pence represents the sense of indebted
ness rather than the exact and literal measure of in
debtedness. Simon's reply to our Lord, though true
enough for the occasion, was short-sighted and super
ficial; and I fancy that Jesus accepted it simply because
it was sufficiently correct for his immediate purpose. A
more thoughtful man would have taken into account not
only the difference in the sums owed, but also the possi
ble diversity in the men. A debt of fifty pence will
weigh more heavily upon one man's mind than will a
debt of five hundred pence upon another's. The feeling
of gratitude and love will depend rather upon the moral
pressure of the debt than upon its precise amount. He
who feels his debt most sorely, whether the debt be great
or small, will love most when forgiven.
As in the commercial so also in the spiritual realm,
the sense of indebtedness is often wholly dispropor-
tioned to the amount of the debt. There are doubtless
great differences of moral character among men. There
are saints and sinners. There are good men and bad
men. But many times, the difference is more in seeming
than in reality. Much that passes for righteousness is
mere respectability; and what we call sin is sometimes
nothing more than a disregard of artificial social stand
ards. St. Paul's declaration, "There is no difference, for
all have sinned," has been wofully distorted and mis
applied by many Christian workers and teachers ; never
theless it expresses a great truth. Notwithstanding the
contrast of outward appearance, the Pharisee and the
415

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
outcast are sometimes more closely allied in character
than they think.
We are prone to compare ourselves with our fellows,
and to estimate our comparative moral or spiritual in
debtedness by the observed difference; a difference, by
the way, that is invariably in our own favor. The readi
ness with which every man can discover .others worse
than himself is truly astounding. The Pharisee spirit is
not confined to one class. It is not even limited to the re
spectable classes. The outcast, until touched by the pow
er of divine love, will point the finger of scorn at some
worse sinner.
It goes without saying that this habit of comparison
always tends to belittle the sense of personal sin. He
will not feel any heavy burden of moral debt, who is
forever reminding himself that his neighbors owe more
than he does. Consequently, multitudes who are recog
nized by the world at large as sinners and degraded out
casts,, feel on their own part no pressure of indebtedness
to God, nor any gratitude for the divine forgiveness.
On the other hand, some who have been canonized as
saints by their fellow men have felt very deeply this sense
of indebtedness to God. Listen to the apostle Paul,
as he declares, even as he nears the end of his wonderful
life of holiness and self-sacrifice, "Faithful is the saying,
and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into
the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief." Hy
perbole! exaggeration! you say. Not at all. It is
but the honest expression of a profound sense of sinful
ness that had grown in the mind and heart of that noble
man through all the years of his service. As he became
more perfectly acquainted with the character of Christ
and the holiness of God, he realized ever more clearly
how great were his own shortcomings, and he knew
that it was no figure of speech but a literal truth, that,
from his own point of view at least and in so far as con
cerned his own life, he was the chief of sinners.
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THE TWO DEBTORS
With the growth of this sense of personal sinfulness
there was a corresponding growth of the sense of divine
forgiveness, producing its reaction of love and devoted
effort. So Paul, the chief of sinners,, because he felt
himself to be such, became the chief of apostles, the
most fruitful worker in the primitive Church, the disciple
of profoundest and most varied spiritual experience.
Always the spiritual life depends for its development
upon this interplay of spiritual reactions. Growing out
of a clear sense of sin is the desire for forgiveness.
The reaction of the desire is the glad consciousness that
God does forgive our sins; and this consciousness in its
turn calls forth the response of love and gratitude from
the soul. Love expressing itself in service and sacrifice
is answered by further enduements of grace, and thus
the process continues without end.
Doubtless there have been individual instances — yes,
more, there have been distinct periods in the history of
the Christian Church — when the sense of sin has been
emphasized in an artificial manner and to an unreason
able degree, and the results have not been the best. As
might be expected, such ideals have given rise to a mor
bid and unreal piety and to spiritual experiences, so
called, that have been of more than doubtful value.
Such, however, is not the danger of the present era.
On the contrary, we are now living in one of those peri
ods when the common Christian life is rendered shallow
because of our trifling and inadequate notions of sin.
We have come to look at evil so largely from a scientific
standpoint, we have talked so long and so persistently
about environment and heredity, that the moral aspect
of the matter is often overlooked. In fact, we are not
half sure that evil is really evil at all. Perhaps it is only
"good in the making." The natural history of evil, the
social and other problems to which it gives rise, its phys
iology and psychology we understand quite clearly; but
of evil as sin against God, as a grievous debt to be for-
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
given, blotted out by the power of the divine Saviour —
of that we know little.
What wonder, then, if the religion of to-day is shorn
of deep spiritual experience? What wonder if the sense
of forgiveness is rare,, and love to God is weak? The
process is simple and inevitable. Who fails to apprehend
the reality of sin cares little about forgiveness, and to
whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.
The parable makes its direct appeal to every soul. It
is "deep calling unto deep," the deep things of God call
ing unto the deep and earnest thought of his child, a
challenge to thoroughness and care in the cultivation
of the spiritual life.
Would you know the possibilities of the Christian
experience, the greatness of Christian joy and freedom?
You must first realize your sin and need of forgiveness.
Cease to compare your life with the lives of others
about you, and bring it fearlessly under the searching
light of divine truth. Study the perfect life of the Christ.
Let that life be the one standard of measurement and
comparison. Let the glory and the radiance of Calvary's
cross stream upon it. And when, in the clear light of
divinest love, you have caught a glimpse of your meas
ureless indebtedness to God, you will throw yourself
in humility and self-condemnation at his feet, confessing
yourself the chief of sinners, and there will flow into your
soul a tide of peace and joy and love hitherto unknown.

418

Neighborhood

CHAPTER XXXIII
Neighborhood THE GOOD SAMARITAN
Luke 10:30-37
Text.— "Who is my neighbor?"— Lake 10:29
SOME questions are best answered when they are
not answered at all. Some questions can only
be so answered. The very attempt to answer
them is suicidal. It is like the effort to meas
ure love, or to discover the essence of life by
dissection. The process of measurement or investigation
itself destroys its object just as we are about to grasp it.
Do you sometimes wonder why Jesus evaded certain
questions that were put to him in all earnestness and
sincerity? It was that by evasion he might make very
clear the truth that a direct answer or attempted answer
would obscure. Take one or two illustrations.
Disciples ask, "Lord, are there few that be saved?"
What says the Master? "Strive to enter in at the strait
gate." That was not an answer. It was an evasion.
Do not say, however, that the words were a mere reproof
of unjustifiable curiosity. Not at all. Though an eva
sion, the words contain the kernel of the answer, the
only truthful answer. Think a moment.
The number of the saved depends upon the number
and earnestness of those who strive for salvation. It
is not a fixed number arbitrarily determined by "the
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
counsel and foreknowledge of God," as the theologians
of a former age would say. The divine provision is
limitless, universal. The only limit possible is that which
men set for themselves. Do you not see, therefore, that
if Jesus had said, "Yes, the saved are few," his hearers
might have been discouraged and so failed to put them
selves among the number of the saved? On the other
hand., had he said, "Oh, the saved are numberless," they
might have become careless and so have neglected their
opportunity to swell the number. It is indeed a strange
paradox that the proclamation of certain truths seems
to endanger their truthfulness. The chief hindrance to
many a man's salvation to-day is his fixed belief that
everybody will be saved.
At another time Peter, with a sidelong glance at John,
asks, "Lord, and what shall this man do?" A very nat
ural question and not wholly impertinent or meddle
some. Yet the Master replies, "What is that to thee?
follow thou me." Another evasion. What is its pur
pose? This, is it not? To call Peter's attention to the
fact that the answer to his question is involved in his own
action. John's work is not independent of Peter's. His
best achievement is conditioned on his fellow disciple's
faithfulness. If Peter does not follow the Master, he
may mislead John or utterly frustrate his work. What
this man shall do, then, will be determined in no small
degree by what he himself shall do to help or to hinder
him. In the case directly before us, a lawyer comes to Jesus
with the great test question of the gospel, "Master, what
shall I do to inherit eternal life ?" It is a vital question,
and receives a direct and unequivocal answer. The
lawyer is referred back to his own most familiar field
of life and thought, the law. "What is written in the
law? how readest thou?" With ready familiarity the
questioner sums up the whole in two commands, "Thou
shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with
432

THE GOOD SAMARITAN
all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy
mind; and thy neighbor as thyself." Taking him on
this familiar ground, Jesus gives a direct and complete
answer, "This do, and thou shalt live."
Like many another enquirer, however, the lawyer is
more ready to propound problems than to solve them,
more eager to talk than to act, to speculate than to sac
rifice. His question is answered. Is he satisfied? Does
he at once go forth to carry out in his life the principle
so simply and clearly announced? No. The answer to
one question only calls forth another: "And who is my
neighbor?" To this question no answer is given. When a man
makes one question the stepping-stone to another ques
tion, it is time to call a halt. It is a waste of breath
to answer him, even though he fancies himself to be a
model of eagerness and candor. Too often he is one
of those persons who have been described as "ever
learning, but never able to come to a knowledge of the
truth." Honest doubt merits respect ; yet there is always
the danger that its respect may petrify into self-worship.
Hence it is well not to give it too much attention.
But this does not altogether explain Jesus' evasion.
There is a second reason more vital than this. The
fact is, no direct answer could be given to the lawyer's
question that would not in some sense belie itself. "Who
is my neighbor ?" As well ask, How many persons make
a crowd? How much food will satisfy hunger? How
much money constitutes wealth? or any similar question.
The query betrays a wholly false conception of the en
tire subject, which a direct answer would only perpetu
ate. Jesus, therefore, does not attempt to answer the
question, but tells a story instead. And the story, by
its very evasion of the question, flashes out the truth
that no answer could have conveyed.
We call the story The Parable of the Good Samari
tan. We have all of us read it hundreds of times.
423

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Let us read it once more that it may speak its message
afresh. Under the impact of our thought the parable falls into
three sections. It is a drama in three acts. Let us
designate them for convenience, a. Need. b. Nearness.
c. Neighborhood.
The first act or scene presents a picture of Need. "A
certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho ;
and he fell among robbers, who both stripped him and
beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead."
A picture of need, I say. Here is a man penniless,
helpless, and well-nigh hopeless. His need is extreme.
Now need is not neighborhood,, but it is a common, per
haps an essential element of it Need is the basis, the
challenge, the inspiration of neighborhood. Where there
is no need the neighborly spirit may exist, but it must
of necessity be latent. It lacks all opportunity for exer
cise, for manifestation. Need, then, is the gateway to
neighborhood. It stands at the opening of the parable,
and through it we must pass to the second scene.
Here our key-word is "Nearness." The traveler lies
stunned and bleeding by the wayside. "And by chance
a certain priest was going down that way; and when he
saw him, he passed by on the other side. And in like
manner a Levite also, when he came to the place, and
saw him, passed by on the other side. But a certain
Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and
when he saw him, he was moved with compassion."
Nearness is predicated of three men in this scene, but
only one of them realizes the meaning of neighborliness.
What is the suggestion? Clearly this: Nearness does
not in itself constitute neighborhood, although it may be
a second element that makes for neighborhood. We
often use the term "neighborhood" as meaning a cluster
of families or persons in a small territory. That is a
mistake. Such a cluster is a vicinity or ward ; yet there
may be no neighborhood there. Draw your line never
424

THE GOOD SAMARITAN
so closely. Let it include but two persons living side
by side; still there may be no neighborhood. There
surely is none if in these two there is no spirit of mutual
interest and care and helpfulness, no desire to minister
to one another's needs.
In our large cities a number of families and individ
uals often dwell under the same roof, separated from
each other by thin partition walls, who yet know no more
of one another and care no more for one another than
as though they lived on opposite sides of the globe.
Each lives his own life and goes his own way, priding
himself perhaps that he never meddles with the affairs
of others. There is nearness, but not neighborhood.
On the other hand, a Miss Stone is captured by brig
ands in Turkey, and immediately hundreds of anxious
souls in far-off America exert themselves for her rescue,
though many of them have never seen her or even heard
of her before. The people of Cuba are oppressed by a
cruel master, and quickly a nation from across the water
appears with armies to succor them. There is neighbor
hood without geographical nearness.
I do not find in the construction of this parable any
intentional detraction of either priest or Levite as the
representative of his class, nor any purpose to laud the
Samaritans as a people in contrast with the Jews. The
characters or actors are chosen simply for the sake of
contrast, and this contrast is not a contrast between men
but between certain circumstances and elements which
these men embody and which bear directly upon this
notion of nearness as a test of neighborhood. Priest
and Levite represent in themselves all that is commonly
associated with the idea of neighborhood. They were
near ones in every sense. They were fellow countrymen
of the distressed traveler. Their nearness was both geo
graphical and racial. Add to this their position in the
community as the recognized custodians of the public
welfare, leaders in religious benevolence and charity,
425

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
who would be expected to feel some sense of responsi
bility and to discern most quickly and clearly the neigh
borly obligation. The Samaritan, on the other hand,
is remote from whatever point of view you look at him.
His nationality obliterates all geographical and racial
obligations of neighborliness to the Jew. The men were
at the opposite poles and celestial diameters lay between
them. Yet the sight of distress kindles the neighborly
spirit in spite of this fact. Can we escape the truth that
flashes from this part of the story? Listen to its mes
sage. Neighborhood is not a matter of geography, but of
humanity. It is not a question of affinity, but of oppor
tunity. You cannot draw lines on the surface of the
globe and say, "Thus far and no farther does my neigh
borly duty extend." Such lines, though they encircle
the earth, utterly strangle the neighborly spirit. You
cannot separate the race by cleavage planes, however
comprehensive, without sundering the neighborly spirit
at some vital point.
Need and nearness together fail to define neighbor
hood or to impress its obligation upon souls that are not
neighborly. They steel ¦ themselves against the cry and
pass by on the other side. But to the neighborly soul
they present an irresistible appeal. Seen through the
eyes of the Samaritan they are the gateways to a neigh
borhood that is truly divine.
Turn now to the third scene in the parable, which
completes its lesson. Here we have no definition, it is
true, but instead thereof we have a living picture of
"Neighborhood." Note the careful detail, the cumulative
description of the spirit of neighborhood.
The picture reveals eight distinct elements, like the
colors of the prism,, which taken together compose the
white light of neighborhood. They are, — i. Sympathy.
"When he (the Samaritan) saw him, he was moved with
compassion." 2. Approach. "And came to him." 3.
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THE GOOD SAMARITAN
Contact. "And bound up his wounds." .4. Ministration.
"Pouring in oil and wine." 5. Self-sacrifice. "And set
him on his own beast." (He had to walk himself, you
see.) 6. Hospitality. "Brought him to an inn." (His
own home was too far away to take him there; hence
this act was equivalent to receiving him under his own
roof.) 7. Care. "And took care of him." 8. Provision.
"And on the morrow .. . . he took out two pence, and
gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of
him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come
again, I will repay thee."
Why all this fulness of detail? Why did Jesus not
content himself with saying, "A certain Samaritan, as
he journeyed,, came where he was and when he saw him,
he rescued and befriended him"? That would have told
the story so far as the vital facts were concerned, but
it would not have given us the vivid picture of neighbor
hood. Neighborhood is generous, large-hearted, free
handed. The neighborly spirit never counts the cost,
never measures duty, never leaves its work incomplete.
It is abundant, overflowing, ample.
Here, too, the thought is clear as crystal. Neighbor
hood is not in being, but in doing ; not in seeing, but in
feeling and fellowship. Abstract neighbors, that is,
neighbors by nature and by virtue of locality, there are
none. Need and nearness are transmuted into neigh
borhood only by the alchemy of compassion and benef
icence. Now gather up the three scenes into one complete
picture, and what does it teach us? This first: We
define neighborhood as an area; Jesus defines it as a
spirit. We make it a limit of responsibility ; he makes it
an unlimited opportunity. Where sympathy and com
passion go out eagerly in response to need, there and
there only is neighborhood.
In the second place, neighbors are made, not born.
Every man may have just as many neighbors as he
427

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
chooses to make, no more, no less. He can have none
else. More than once have we heard the complaint, "I
have no neighbors !" Sometimes this is true ; but whose
is the fault? Invariably it is the fault of the complain
ing one. He has no neighbors because he has made
none. Who would have neighbors must show himself
neighborly. Perhaps the Samaritan of the parable never
had a neighbor before. He certainly had one after his
act of kindness. So any man who feels lonely and neigh-
borless can speedily have as many neighbors as he
wishes ; but he must go out and make them.
Neighbors are easily made, and the manufacture does
not require any particular kind or quality of timber. In
fact, the poorer the timber the better the work that can
be done. The half dead Jew by the roadside was not a
hopeful subject for the Samaritan's effort, but he suc
ceeded so well with his task that he has been held up
before the world for two thousand years as the model
neighbor maker. There are numberless crooked sticks
in every community, moral derelicts, social wrecks, not
to speak of the many needy ones and distressed. Every
one of these offers himself to the man in quest of neigh
bors. Each utters his separate challenge to the neigh
borly spirit.
One more truth the story suggests. The question.
"Who is my neighbor?" is suicidal. It betrays the un-
neighborly spirit. It aggravates the unneighborly spirit.
The truly neighborly soul will never stay to ask, "Who
is my neighbor?" Such souls are too busy seizing every
opportunity to manifest the neighborly spirit, to per
form some neighborly kindness.
This is a point to be remembered by every reader of
the parable. Whenever you find yourself asking, "Who
is my neighbor?" you may be sure that something is
wrong in your own heart. You are lacking in the true
spirit of neighborliness, or you are falling from the grace
of neighborliness. What you need is not information,
428

THE GOOD SAMARITAN
but transformation; not to discover the limit of your
duty, but to be filled with the spirit of love that knows
no limit.
Note also the fact that while the spirit of neighbor
hood is often reciprocal, it never waits for that. The
Samaritan did not enter into a covenant with the wound
ed Jew for mutual defense or helpfulness. The Jew
was too nearly dead for any such compact. The chances
were even that he would not recover. The neighborli
ness was all on one side and looked for no return even in
gratitude. The neighborhood that seeks a return is not
the neighborhood of the Good Samaritan.
That is a mistaken interpretation which makes this
parable the basis of various fraternal organizations, and
sees in these the fulfilment of its spirit. Such organi
zations insist upon mutual obligation. Reciprocity of
helpfulness is their key-note. Their members say to one
another in effect, "I will help you in time of need if you
will help me. I will help you because you help me."
Now these organizations doubtless accomplish a great
deal of good in the world, and relieve many cases of
need, but they are in no true sense the successors or rep
resentatives in our time of the Good Samaritan. They
are not. the exponents of real neighborhood. The kind
ness that conditions itself upon a return in kind is not
neighborhood, for that is wholly unselfish. Neighbor
hood gives with no thought or hope of receiving, gives
freely, gives lavishly, its one concern being to meet the
need and to meet it amply. If it brings any return, the
return is as spontaneous and as unconditioned as is the
kindness itself.
The world needs more neighbors. It can never have
too many. We can well spare multitudes of men and
women who are forever asking questions, mooning over
social problems, searching for the boundary lines of re
sponsibility and duty. But the men and women who do
things, kind things, neighborly things, regardless of
429

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
boundaries and claims, we can never have enough of
them. And this is the Christly ideal, — not "Go thou and
investigate or measure or study," but "Go thou and do."
Go and make neighbors, make them anywhere, make
them everywhere and always.
Who is my neighbor? The question never has been
answered, never can be answered. It must ever recoil
upon the soul that asks it,, an endless interrogative. But
go forth and find some needy soul, bring yourself near
to such a one, give yourself to him generously, ungrudg
ingly, in sympathy and self-sacrifice and helpfulness,
and into your soul shall shine with all the glory of a
divine revelation the meaning of that word, Neighbor
hood.

430

God's Fool

CHAPTER XXXIV
God's Fool
THE RICH HUSBANDMAN
I dice i2ilirZX
Text. — " God said unto him, Thou fool. " — Luke 12:20
JESUS has sketched for us a portrait of God's fool.
These are his essential features: — "He layeth up
treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God."
All else is incidental. You may change the other
features as you will. You may read into them
all possible beauty and grace, but these remain, like the
flattened skull and the lusterless eye, the invariable
tokens of spiritual idiocy.
I think we often read this story in such a way that
we altogether miss its real meaning. We magnify the
details till they overshadow the application. And we are
somewhat startled to find ourselves admiring or pitying
the rich landowner instead of condemning him. True,
we have called him a fool for ages — this man of the
parable — but have we not often thought of him as un
fortunate rather than foolish? Has he not many times
seemed to us a really wise and worthy man who was the
helpless victim . of capricious Omnipotence ? He had
made ready for years of rational and well-earned enjoy
ment, and God cut him off in a day. We have written
the words, "THIS NIGHT" in large capitals, and have
pitied the poor fellow because of them.
Still, we have consented, out of respect to the recog-
433

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
nized judgment and authority of Jesus, to call the straw
man a fool, while we have taken the liberty to call his
living counterpart a wise man and to make him our
model in action, hoping that God may be more kind to us
than to him. We have thought that if we could only
blot out that sentence, "This night thy soul shall be re
quired of thee," we should thus transform arrant folly
into profoundest wisdom and make over our Lord's red
light of warning into a guiding star of truest Christian
economy. Now look at the portrait a moment candidly and say,
Does it not bear a marked resemblance to our wise man?
Is not this fool of God the veritable twin brother to
the world's sage or oracle? Is he not the man whom we
consult in all financial matters? the man whom we de
light to honor and to praise and to imitate? Is not his
standard of life even higher than the average in this
Christian land? Notice a few points.
(a) In the first place, his wealth has been honestly
acquired. There is no hint of injustice or wrong-doing
in the story. "The ground of a certain rich man brought
forth plentifully." He was a farmer. He was a pro
ducer of wealth. He had not become rich by means of
speculation or oppression or dishonesty. He had not
taken his wealth from the pockets of others by robbery,
legal or illegal. No one had been made poorer by his
increasing riches. On the contrary, the whole commu
nity was benefited. His broad acres required many
hands for their culture, and his wealth was the storehouse
from which many workers drew their wages, many fam
ilies their living. With increasing prosperity he gave
employment to an ever-increasing number of persons,
and so the community rejoiced in his acquisition and
looked upon him as a great patron of industry, one of
the few who enrich the world with every enrichment of
themselves. y '~': !" ¦ '¦- ^'-:-- -lj ¦¦¦ • \ '"' --'¦*"* '-
(b) In the second place, he was thoughtful and far-
434

THE RICH HUSBANDMAN
sighted. He prepared in time for emergencies. "He
thought within himself, saying, What shall I do, because
I have no room where to bestow my fruits ?" Anything
unwise in that? Was it not proof of the truest wisdom
and prudence to make timely preparation for the coming
harvest ? A foolish man indeed would he be who should
wait till the harvest time was upon him before acting,
and then permit valuable crops to go to waste for want
of storage. -j_ j% ¦• • -»'- *¦¦¦». .l~.v-„ -."*. X*> v. ., ^. -\
(c) Yet again, he was practical as well as thought
ful.. No sooner did he realize the need than he set
himself to provide for it. With him to think was to act.
"He said. This will I do: I will pull down my barns,
and bund greater ; and there will I bestow all my fruits
and my goods." Now do not fly off at a tangent and say
"that he did wrong in this, that it was selfish and wicked
for him to heap up such wealth ; for that is what we are
all of us trying to do, and any such application of the
parable recoils with deadly force. We must always be
careful lest the arrow we aim at another hit ourselves,
lest our supposed dart prove itself to be a boomerang.
Remember, too, that this man was not planning, to
hoard up his grain, as a miser hoards his gold, with no
intention of using it. He was not holding it as godless
speculators hold corners in wheat and corn and flour,
permitting their poorer neighbors to starve if need be
in order that they may themselves wring a few more dol
lars from the public necessity. No ! he was only making
reasonable provision for his own future needs. He was
preparing to retire from active life and from the great
field of competition that he might give himself up to the
enjoyment of his possessions. For years he had toiled
and struggled, he had denied himself many a luxury,
he had refused every invitation to take a holiday, and his
wealth was the result of his toil. Now he will take a
rest. Now he will enjoy that which his labor has won.
(d) More than all, he was not excessively greedy.
435

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Having secured enough for his own needs, he was willing
to retire and give place to others. "I will say to my
soul, Soul, take thine ease." His is not the miserly,
grasping spirit that will not cease working and striving
so long as anything remains to be gathered. He does
not propose to go on hoarding all his days. According
to a reasonable estimate he has wealth sufficient to en
sure him a comfortable living for the remainder of his
time. Now he will turn over his farm with its resources
and opportunities into the hands of others and let them
become as wealthy as himself. In these days, when few
men are willing to rest in their eager pursuit of wealth
so long as any gleanings remain and they have the power
to strive for them, this man is a model of unselfishness
and moderation.
Yes, I repeat the thought, this is a truthful portrait
of the man whom we, the disciples of to-day, call wise,
kind-hearted, thrifty, and even benevolent. We praise
him; we honor him, and in some feeble and hesitating
way we imitate him, and flatter ourselves that the meas
ure of our imitation is also the measure of our wisdom
and even of our Christianity.
But God says now, as he said then, "Thou fool !" He
has not changed his opinion by so much as a single iota
in two thousand years. The man of the parable was a
fool in the sight of God. His imitator of yesterday
was a fool by the same judgment. Why? Because he
made such careful provision for his bodily wants? No.
Because he provided for many years when he was to
live but one day? No. He could not know that his
time was to be so brief. He did right to provide for
many years. He was wise to secure himself against
material want for the time which would probably be
his. There was no folly in this. There was every prob
ability that he would live for many years, and he was
wise to prepare for that. But while that was only a
probability, there was the positive certainty that his soul
436

THE RICH HUSBANDMAN
would live through all eternity, and he was a thriftless
fool to make no provision for that. Wise to provide
against the possible; fool to neglect the certain. Wise to
foresee and supply the needs of the body; fool to imag
ine that the soul could be fed with corn and wheat. Wise
in what he had done; fool because of what he had not
done. Note his words, "Soul, thou hast much goods laid up."
Where had he laid up anything for his soul? Can the
soul's goods be stored in barns or deposited in banks or
represented in stocks and bonds? No. His well-filled
barns might satisfy all bodily wants for many years. He
might live in the utmost comfort for a long time. He
might eat, drink, and be merry for half a century; and
yet, with all his plenty, his soul might be eternally
starved. In the midst of this abundance his life might
be miserably pinched and unsatisfied. Many a soul has
perished with hunger while the body was oppressed with
luxury. Many a comfortable home, yes, many a costly
palace, is the abode of hearts that are filled with long
ings persistent but unsatisfied.
How often, too, does it happen that the attainment of
one's ambition strikes the death-knell to the spirit of
activity and satisfaction ! With the retirement from labor
and struggle, life loses all zest and meaning, and it is
impossible for the restless one to eat, drink and be merry
as he had fondly hoped.
This, then, is his folly ; this is the point of censure ; not
that he was miserly; for he was not; not that he was
selfish in the ordinary sense; for that does not appear;
not that he claimed in any undue measure the ownership
of his riches ; for no emphasis is laid upon that ; but that
his provision was too small, his foresight too limited.
"This night thy soul shall be required of thee: then
whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided?"
Thou art prepared for the probable; art thou prepared
for the inevitable? Thou hast much goods laid up for
437

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
many years ; hast thou anything laid up for eternity ? or
shall all thy wealth pass into other hands while thy
soul goes forth empty, naked and starving? Foolish
one! Thy body has seemed of greater importance to
thee than thy soul. Thou hast thought more .of many
years than of eternity.
Study the phrases in which Jesus sets forth his folly : —
(a) He prefaces the parable with the statement that
"Life consisteth not in the abundance of things." All
the material wealth of the world cannot insure a moment
of life. It cannot bribe a soul to delay its departure a
single day. It cannot even transform the continued ex
istence of years into anything worthy the name of life.
In the midst of plenty there may be disappointment, sor
row, pain, misery, that the largest wealth cannot alle
viate. Life may become stunted, dwarfed, in the very
process of wealth-winning. It will surely become so
if we permit ourselves to imagine that things are more
important than life. Life, life, that is the important
thing, the only important thing. Life is not mere con
tinued existence. It is growth; it is progress; it is ca
pacity to enjoy or to suffer. And material riches are of
value only as they minister to that
(b) A single sentence pricks the bubble of this man's
hope. "This night thy soul shall be required of thee."
A startling announcement, truly, yet its force is not al
together dependent upon the words "This night." Those
words merely put in the present tense what would have
been no less startling a score of years later. Whether
now or then the soul would go out in poverty. There
were no spiritual riches which it might enjoy either in
this world or the next. Had earthly existence been con
tinued for a thousand years there would have been no
life. The shriveled soul could do nothing but vege
tate or petrify. No provision had been made for its
growth or enjoyment. There were only things, things,
things, and life consisteth not in things.
4^S

THE RICH HUSBANDMAN
How differently the same announcement affects one
who has really provided for life. Hear St. Paul ex
claiming, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished
the course, I have kept the faith : henceforth there is laid
up for me the crown of righteousness." He was rich
towards God, and it mattered not to him whether he re
mained to enjoy those riches in the circles where they
had been won, or went to reap their fruits in another
sphere. In either realm they were of permanent value.
The gallant Wolfe felt it no hardship to be called home.
in the very moment of his triumph on the plains of
Abraham. By his heroism that day he had gained some
thing more than things. His riches were not such as he
must leave to another, and he could exclaim, "I die hap
py." There are riches that are not lost or in any way
qualified by the mere change of scene from this world
to the next.
(c) How pertinent is the question, "Whose shall
those THINGS be, which thou hast provided?" That
is the sharpest sting in the punishment of him who lays
up treasure for himself alone. It must some time slip
into other hands, and often into the hands of those least
pleasing to him. How many a fortune has been amassed
by untold thrift and economy, only to fall into the hands
of some idle spendthrift to be scattered to the winds.
A common folly of the present day is the practise of
gathering property during a lifetime with the purpose
of leaving it to noble objects by bequest. But the sum
mons of God does not always await the completing of
wills. And when it does so, the benevolent intention is
many times frustrated by legal miscarriages or swal
lowed up in the wrangling of attorneys, and so the di
vine account book shows in place of a large balance of
"riches towards God," only a blank page inscribed with
the words, "Thou foolish one!"
(d) The whole significance of the parable is gath
ered up and put into the one closing sentence, "So is
439

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
he that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich to
ward God." Foolish, it is, to lay up treasure for one
self, to provide against the needs of declining years?
Not always. But it is always unspeakably foolish not to
be rich towards God. Here is the emphatic thought.
This parable is not a denunciation of wealth or of genu
ine thrift. It is rather a plea for greater thrift, a warn
ing against the danger of spiritual poverty. It calls
for a larger outlook, for more extended foresight. It
says to us, "Provide not only for the needs of time, but
for those of eternity as well. Prepare not alone for the
probable, but for the inevitable. Let your acquisition
be for the soul — i. e., for the life itself — as well as for
the body which is but a temporary abode of the life."
There is no necessary antagonism between material
and_ sprrifuaT riches': Je^uTTieveTTriauIged in sweeping
and™ unqualified denunciations of wealth. To them that
truly love God, money, even though it be counted by
the thousands and millions of dollars, will at last appear
to be one of the "all things" that work together for
good. Thrift in religion does not imply thriftlessness
or failure in business. Heavenly wisdom is not synon
ymous with earthly folly. No one ever more truly and
wisely stimulated the spirit of economy and thrift than
Jesus. Yet he always made material enrichment sub
ordinate to the infinitely more vital interests of the
soul. "Seek first the kingdom of God," was his change
less command, but he followed it with the words, "All
these things shall be added unto you."
Earthby^treasure rightly used may help us to gain the
heavenly riches. Life consis'fclh^hot'iri'flmTB^buTThings
may become the instruments for enlarging life. We
may lay up treasure for ourselves to a certain extent",
at least, and at the same time be rich towards God. The
two may go hand in hand, or they may not. If at any
time we must choose between them, blessed is he who
lets go the earthly and prefers to be rich towards God.
440

THE RICH HUSBANDMAN
He who has learned to exchange the earthly coin at par
value for the riches of the heavenly kingdom is doubly
blessed. There are investments of money that make us rich,
not^^^^d^l^^^^^iTZ^^^y- ^Eook"aFDr.
.fearsotis of Chicago, making money simply that he may
invest it in struggling schools and colleges and other
benevolent institutions, so helping numberless young men
and women to a larger and more useful life. Every
dollar he accumulates adds to his own present soul life,
and it matters not when he may be called to give up his
earthly existence; his wealth will go on bearing fruit
for his own spiritual enrichment. Ail down through
the coming ages those who have been partakers of the
gifts which he has given and all other lives that have
been made larger or better through their influence will
go to the increase of his soul's inheritance. They shall
be his and not another's.
Whoever uses his wealth, whether great or small, to
make homes brighter, to make hearts happier, to make
lives better, is investing not for time but for eternity.
Centuries ago a woman in extreme poverty, out of
overflowing love to God gave two mites to the service
of his kingdom. I know not for what purpose they were
used. Doubtless not as helpfully as they might be em
ployed in these days of practical benevolence; but they
were devoted to God in the only manner possible for
her. Through all the succeeding generations those mites
have been bearing interest. In every age men have said
as they have poured their gifts into the Lord's treasury,
whether for religious or philanthropic purposes, "I will
give my mite"; and whenever that word has been ear
nestly spoken, testifying that the poor woman's little
gift has been the primary inspiration of the greater
offering, the latter has been put down to the credit of
the widow in the book of life, being reckoned as interest
441

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
on her original investment. To-day no man can com
pute the wealth that is hers. She is one of heaven's
multi-millionaires, and her wealth has not yet reached
its limit That is the sort of property that men can
carry with them to the next world.
If adaptation be the token of life, then surely this
parable is a part of God's living word; for it fits with
marvelous exactness into the present state of human
thought and activity. It finds a most perfect illustration
in the methods and ideals of modern society. This is a
covetous age. I do not mean by that an age of hard and
grasping miserliness. We are too intelligent, to.o refined,
too polite to imitate the rude frankness of the man who
interrupted a sermon with the selfish request, "Master,
speak to my brother, that he divide the inheritance with
me." Ours is the more delicate and therefore the more
dangerous covetousness of the parable. Our aims and
ideals are exceedingly material. We are thrifty, we are
diligent, we are careful for the future (i. e., for "many
years"), but our whole thought and energy are bent to
wards the acquisition of things. Money, food, clothing,
home comforts, luxuries, education and enjoyments, all
these we labor for. And we think that these constitute
life. So with all our wealth and opportunity and re
sources we are in danger of soul starvation and eternal
disappointment. Yet it need not be so. If we are not jich towards
Q?J-Uh_L lolly is Jn . Jjs, not in, our^circumstancesT^Never
was such an opportunity for spirituarwearthlas we of
tBe~p7e&enF day enjoy. Openings for "spirituaFTnvest-
ment present themselves on every hand. We may find
them at our very doors. This is preeminently the age
of philanthropic and missionary enterprise. It is the
privilege of every man in our day and land to link him
self with the growth of life and character about him, to
have some share in the uplifting of his own community
or in the larger spiritual advancement of the race. We
442

THE RICH HUSBANDMAN
may transmute things into life, wealth into character,
by means of the alchemy of unselfishness and consecra
tion ; and, so doing, ours shall no longer be the curse of
folly, but to us shall be spoken that other word, —
"They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of
the firmament ; and they that turn many to righteousness
as the stars for ever and ever."

443

Preparation for the Coming
of the Son of Man

CHAPTER XXXV
Preparation for the Coming
of the Son of Man
THE HOUSEHOLPER ANP THE THIEF
Luke 12:35-48; Matt. 24:42-51
Text.— "Be ye also ready. "—Luke 12:40
THE coming of the Son of man" is a topic
frequently recurring in the later days of
our Lord's ministry. Again and again
he assures his disciples that he is about
to leave them for a time, but that he will
return to consummate the work which he has now
just begun. The manner, the place, and the time of
his return he leaves wholly indeterminate. More than
this, he plainly declares that they will not and cannot be
known beforehand, but exhorts every disciple to "watch"
and "be ready" for the event whenever it may occur. In
every utterance upon the subject the element of unex
pectedness is made very emphatic. Whatever else the
coming of the Son of man may signify, it certainly rep
resents the supreme crisis or emergency of human life.
and this emergency touches life at various angles.
The parable of The Ten Virgins, for example, is a
picture of the relation of this crisis to character, while
the parable of The Householder and The Thief with its
accompanying semi-parable of The Faithful and Un
faithful Servants depicts the relation of the crisis to
conduct. The crisis is ever the test of character, but the
preparation for the crisis is in conduct. "If the master
447

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
of the house had known in what watch the thief was
coming, he would have watched." In other words, he
would have prepared for the special emergency by his
own activity.
Few expositors include this sketch in their catalogue
of our Lord's parables. Some have treated the subor
dinate picture which I have called the "semi-parable"
as the central theme. Clearly, the entire discourse is too
closely connected to admit of division, but to my mind
the picture of the householder and thief is the kernel.
That is the true parable, of which the rest is an explana
tion. The key-note of the entire passage is preparedness
for the great emergency. The householder speaks of the
necessity of being always ready, and the two servants
illustrate the nature of the preparation required. The
declaration that the householder would have watched,
might, if left thus, encourage the notion of mere idle
waiting for the Lord's advent. It was therefore neces
sary to add the further parabolic explanation to show
that watching implied activity, faithfulness, service. Not
a mere state of passive expectation, however eager and
believing, is the true preparation for the coming of the
Lord, but active effort, obedience to his commands,
devotion to his service.
"Conduct," says Matthew Arnold, "is seven-eighths
of life." While we may question the exactness of his
proportions, yet from the point of view of our parable
the utterance voices a profound truth. Conduct is to the
remainder of life as the apple or the pear or the orange
to the tree upon which it grows. To be sure you must
have the right kind of a tree to produce the desired fruit.
Men do not gather grapes of thorns, or pears from a
scrub-oak, nor will a stunted and ill-conditioned tree
produce large quantities of fine fruit; but, after all, it is
the fruit that is of paramount importance. At least
seven-eighths of the value of an orchard or of
an orange grove is represented by its fruit For
448

THE HOUSEHOLDER AND THE THIEF
wood or shade-trees neither would be worth cul
tivating. The fruit-grower does not boast of the
height or beauty or symmetry of his trees. He does
not talk of the comfort to be enjoyed by resting under
their shade, No; he shows you his pears, his peaches,
his oranges, and tells you they are the best in the market.
When the nurseryman tries to sell a particular variety
of fruit tree, he says little or nothing about the tree
itself, but he does speak of the fruit, of its size, its flavor,,
its abundance, its superiority to all other varieties. In
buying you will choose the most ungainly trees if they
produce the best fruit. Whoever should do otherwise
must be wanting the most ordinary common sense.
"He shall be like a tree," said David. "By their fruits
ye shall know them," said Jesus. There you have it.
Human life is a tree and conduct is its fruit. It is by
conduct that we gage the value of manhood. Not what
a man is, but what he does, is the supreme question.
But you say, "Conduct depends upon character. What
a man is determines what he does." True, unquestion
ably true. Character is the root, the trunk, the branch;
yet these all find their meaning, their value in the fruit,
which is conduct.
When we study the life history of a great man, the
first question we ask about him is, "What did he do?"
And we trace his character, his environment, his hered
ity, only when his deeds make such an investigation
worth while. If a man has done nothing worthy of con
sideration, we seldom trouble ourselves to ask who or
what he was. The true heroes of history are the men of
noble action, of heroic conduct. Beside them the men
of negative or latent power are insignificant.
Witness, two prominent figures of the Reformation
period, Erasmus and Luther. .Erasmus was a man of
broader mind, profounder scholarship, more progressive
thought, and more pleasing manners than Luther, but
his learning and culture did not inspire him to earnest
449

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
and self-sacrificing action, hence his name is forgotten
by the multitudes. The tree was graceful and attractive
in appearance, but it bore no valuable fruit to feed the
life of the race. Luther on the other hand, albeit some
what rude and uncouth in manner, was a man of action,
fearless, devoted action. The crooked and storm-torn
tree bore abundance of rich fruit. It was for this that
the name of Martin Luther has become a household word
throughout Protestant Christendom.
Again, note the contrast between a Chesterfield and a
Cromwell. On the one hand, Lord Chesterfield, distin
guished by brilliancy of wit, polished grace of manner,
elegance of conversation, "a wit among lords and a lord
among wits," the companion of famous men and himself
most famous of all for his urbanity, has won little regard
from the majority of his fellow men, because his gifted
life bore no worthy fruit of noble action. On the other
hand, plain Oliver Cromwell manifested nothing of grace
or beauty in his life. As was said of a greater than
Cromwell, "He had no form nor comeliness; and when
we see him, there is no beauty that we should desire
him." A rough character produced by a rough time.
Yet the judgment of history and the verdict of public
opinion has awarded him a high place and honor; for
his was a life of action. Whatever he was, he did great
things and good things for men. He gave a great im
petus to the cause of human liberty, and not the gov
ernment of Great Britain alone, but all government has
been milder and more just because of him. Therefore
men admire and praise him.
Over against the saying of Matthew Arnold we
may put that other saying of Carlyle : "The end of life
is an action, not a thought, though it were the noblest."
And this is precisely the truth that Jesus would have
us discover in the parable before us. The whole force
and meaning of his explanation is concentrated in those
words, "Blessed is that servant, whom his lord when he
450

THE HOUSEHOLDER AND THE THIEF
cometh shall find so doing." The contrast which he
draws is a contrast of action, of conduct. Could his
meaning be more clear or unmistakable? Not what one
believes or knows or desires, not even what one is, is
the supreme test ; but what one does.
In the direct discourse that follows this series of para
bles, our Lord returns to this truth and makes it yet more
emphatic. As he paints a vivid picture of the final
separation between the righteous and the wicked, he
makes conduct the ultimate ground of the judgment pro
nounced upon each. To those on the one side he says,
"Inasmuch as ye did it" — i. e., did that which was noble
and true and kind — "Come." And to those on the left
hand, "Since ye did it not, therefore depart." Does he
then undervalue character and consecration? Not by
any means. But he .sees in conduct their necessary
fruition, and tests both by that. If conduct, justly es
timated, be evil, then it follows of necessity that the char
acter is worthless and the consecration a sham.
One asked of Demosthenes, so goes the story, "What
is the first quality of a great orator ?" Demosthenes re
plied, "Action." "What is the second quality?" Again
he answered, "Action." "What the third?" "Action."
There you have another witness to the truth we are in
sisting upon. Action, conduct, is the supreme test of the
great orator. It is the test of worth or greatness in any
field. What is the first, the second, the third attribute of
the successful teacher? Action. What are the marks
of a great legislator? Action. What are the proofs of
courage in the soldier, of skill in the physician, of com
mercial ability in the merchant, of trustworthiness in
the servant? Action, action, action. By the same token
the prime qualities of the Christian, the qualities that
demonstrate the value of his faith, and that best prepare
him for the coming of his Lord are — action, action,
Action! Turning again to our parable, we note a second point
451

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
that calls for the subordinate or explanatory sketch.
While the midnight thief well embodies the unexpected
ness of the emergency, the householder cannot perfectly
represent the situation of the disciple. He could not be
continually prepared. To be sure, he might attend to the
locks and defenses of his house, he might keep arms
close at hand to repel the intruder; still these are but
imperfect preparations. The man must sleep; he must
attend to other matters that interfere with watchfulness ;
he cannot give his entire attention to anything so uncer
tain as the coming of a robber who may not come at all.
He cannot employ a watchman, for that would entail
greater loss than would be likely to result from burglary.
In contrast with this, the coming of the Son of man
is an event sure to occur sooner or later, though the time
is unknown; the preparation for the event is not de
pendent upon a knowledge of the time, but must be con
tinuous, permanent. In the very nature of the case the
householder could not be prepared; but the disciple, on
the other hand, both can be and ought to be prepared.
That he does not know the time of his Lord's return
is no excuse for unpreparedness, for his ordinary activi
ties are the means of his preparation, not a hindrance to
it. Hence the picture of the servant is necessary to com
plete the thought The servant is ready for his master's
coming, however unexpected the time, if he is faithful
in the discharge of his daily duties. If found unpre
pared, he will not think of pleading, "I knew not that
you were approaching." Such an excuse would aggra
vate his guilt and add to the severity of his condemnation.
Now granting that action or conduct is the only true
preparation for the coming of the Son of man, the ques
tion inevitably follows, — "What conduct?" By what
form of activity are we best prepared to meet the return
ing Christ? We find our answer in the supplementary
parable. The faithful and wise steward was at no loss
what to do that he might receive his lord with gladness
452

THE HOUSEHOLDER AND THE THIEF
and win his unqualified approval. He simply attended to
his business as he would have done in his master's pres
ence. He made no special preparation for his return.
He did not arrange a magnificent reception with a ban
quet and address of welcome. Nor did he call the house
hold from their wonted occupations to watch for the
master's coming. Nothing of the kind. He merely at
tended to the regular needs of the household, "giving
them their meat in due season." How commonplace!
Yet that is the complete record. The most ordinary kind
of daily service regularly and faithfully performed, that
is the conduct that receives the blessing.
Is it difficult to discover the present and permanent
application of the picture? I think not. In a word, it
is this: God does not require of his servants peculiar
service in preparation for the Master's return. We shall
best prepare for the extraordinary emergency by faith
fulness in the most ordinary duties. "To do justly, and
to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God" — these
are not unusual or extraordinary duties, but it is in
doing these things perfectly that we prepare ourselves
for whatever may come to us. Whoever neglects these
simple duties of honesty, justice, kindness and piety,
whoever ignores his responsibility to family or society
while his eyes are turned heavenward in mock sanctity
to watch for the coming of his Lord, will have no part
in the millennial joy.
What a revelation of folly and unfaithfulness occurred
half a century ago when multitudes, filled with the
sudden expectation of the Lord's return, forsook all their
ordinary occupations and gave themselves up to extrava
gant action by way of preparing for the great event!
Business was neglected, household duties were left un
done, farms were allowed to run wild, the claims of
common reason and right were ignored, while men gave
themselves up to religious frenzy and worship. They
453

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
were like servants who have been consciously unfaithful
during their master's absence and who, by rushing out
to meet him on his return and by all manner of unneces
sary attentions and fussy activity, seek to distract his
attention from their unfinished tasks and to win from
him words of praise or approval which their unfaithful
ness does not merit.
The best proof of faithful and acceptable service is
not seen in the readiness for extraordinary activity when
the emergency arises, but in the little change that is made
necessary by such a crisis. It is the unfaithful servant
who must undertake new duties and enter upon fresh
activities. To some minds, yes, I fancy that to the majority of
minds, the thought of the Lord's coming suggests the
unwelcome or the dreadful. To the true Christian it
should seem a joyful event. "Oh, but the unexpectedness
of it! If I could only know when he will come!"
And so not a few disciples weary their minds and souls
in the effort to interpret the prophecies and to discover
the time of our Lord's second advent. Does the true
servant worry because he does not know just when his
master will come ? Does the honest bank teller or cashier
live in constant dread because he does not know the day
or the hour of the inspector's visit ? No ; he is ready all
the time. The inspector may come to-day or to-morrow
or when he will, and he will find everything in readiness.
The books will balance to a cent. Every account will
be clear and correct. It is the defaulter who wants to
know when he shall be called to account. It is the dis
honest man who wants time to doctor his accounts so
that they shall seem to be right when in reality they are
wrong. This, then, is the supreme test of Christian living. Are
you conscious of anything in your life which you would
wish to change if you knew that the Lord were coming
454

THE HOUSEHOLDER AND THE THIEF
to-morrow? That very consciousness convicts you of
present unfaithfulness. If you are living the true life,
the honest life, the faithful life, then, though you knew
that the Christ were coming to-night, you would go right
on in the course you have planned; and when he came
you would meet him with gladness and receive his warm
est praise.

455

The Peril and Penalty
of Uselessness

CHAPTER XXXVI
The Peril and Penalty
of Uselessness
the fruitless tree
Luke 13:6-9
Text. — "He came seeking fruit thereon, and found none. " — Luke 13:6
f~~M *^HE reign of law" is a controlling notion in
I all Tnoclern scientific thought. More than
I this, the phrase is a popular catchword
¦ with the unscientific and shallow thinkers
"^^ of our time. We all take delight in trac
ing the lines of cause and effect through every part of
our life. We draw the parallels in the material and
spiritual worlds, after Processor Drummond, and com
placently work out various analogies of condition and
result, fully persuaded that all this is very new and very
wise. As a matter of fact the idea is not at all new in its
general application to human life, nor has it always the
merit of being wise. From time immemorial thoughtful
men have tried to discover a cause for every effect that
has been observed, and to give some definite statement
to the laws by which their little section of the universe
is governed. If modern science has really contributed
anything new in this direction, it has been only by way
of clearer and more rational interpretation of old thought.
Where old-time thinkers got the lines of relation tangled
we are beginning to straighten them out; where they
imagined connections that had no real existence we in-
459

THE TEACHINGS OF JES
sist on tracing each strand of cause to its true source
by methods of careful and thorough investigation, i
The disciples of Jesus saw a blind man, and they crime
to the Master, saying, "Who did sin, this man, or i his
parents, that he was born blind?" What was that but
a recognition of the reign of law? The disciples ' ^re
intelligent enough to perceive that in a world where ?'od
controlled all things by his omnipotence that blinc less
was not the result of mere chance, and with Jieir
limited data for reasoning upon such subjects they natur
ally concluded that its cause must be sin, for which tae
sufferer was either directly or indirectly responsible.,'
Others told Jesus of the Galileans whose blood Pilate
had mingled with their sacrifices, and of the eighteen
Jews upon whom the tower of Siloam had fallen, and
they plainly implied by word and manner that those
Galileans and Jews must have been exceptionally sinful
to have brought upon themselves such dire calamities.
Here again is the recognition of the reign of law.
True, both these interpretations of the idea are so
crude and so childish that we of the present day dub
them superstition; yet we ourselves often shoot as wide
of the mark as did these same old-time religious phil
osophers. Indeed, we are quite sure to repeat their
blunder in some form unless we supplement our recog
nition of the reign of law with an equally intelligent
universal recognition of the reign of grace.
It was to illustrate and enforce the necessary relation
between the reign of law and the reign of grace that
Jesus spoke the parable of The Barren Fig Tree. While
the story was told in answer to the question of his im
mediate hearers, it comes to us as a vivid epitome of
the gospel of grace which we need no less than they.
Its truths cluster about three figures : — (a) A fruitless
tree, (b) an indignant owner, and (c) a pleading dresser.
First is the fruitless tree. "A certain man had a fig
tree planted in his vineyard; and he came seeking fruit
460

THE FRUITLESS TREE
thereon, and found none." Jesus' questioners had been
speaking of sin and sinners. He gives them a picture
of the supreme sinner — the useless man, the fruitless
soul. No lack of beauty is charged, no deformity, no
imperfection, but simple fruitlessness. We talk of sins,
of vices, of crimes; but this is the crime of crimes, the
crowning vice, the capital sin — to live a useless life that
neither helps mankind nor enriches the world by its ser
vice. Better is the criminal who has been tempted to his
crime by some unexpected stress of his earnest effort
for his fellow men than the person of immaculate char
acter and eminent respectability who devotes all his
energies to "keeping himself unspotted from the world."
We are very ready to trace the misfortunes of our
most earnest and active brethren to their mistakes and
wilful errors, but we are slow to understand that our
own idleness and indifference is cause sufficient for worse
calamity. As one has truthfully said, "We hear so much
about the danger of wrong thinking and the danger of
wrong-doing. There is the other danger, of not doing
right and not thinking right, of not doing and not think
ing at all. It is hard for many people to understand
that there is danger and harm in that, the worst of
harm and danger."
If there is one fact, which, more than any other, im
presses itself upon the mind of every earnest worker in
God's kingdom, it is the way in which the vast majority
of men and women live on in contented uselessness and,
with no ill will but all good wishes, let the interests of
their fellow men and of goodness and of God take care
of ^themselves. To how many Christians, even, does the
religious life present itself in the enthusiastic and in
spiring aspect of working and fighting for God?
Fruitlessness indicates a lack of vitality. And there
is a pitiful lack of moral and spiritual vitality in the
world. In every community there is a multitude of
useless men and women, yes, of men and women per-
461

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
fectly satisfied with their uselessness. Many a one if he
were-to review his life could not point to one really useful
thing in any large sense which he ever did. He never
stood up for a good cause. He never remonstrated man
fully, positively, against any evil. He never helped a bad
man to do better, or rescued a good man from falling
under temptation. A merely useless man. He might
drop out of the host to-morrow and none would miss
a soldier from the ranks. No onset or defense would be
the weaker for his going.
Such persons are frequently popular members of so
ciety" clever, respectable, genial in manner and "pleasing
in appearance. They abhor the foulness of overt sin,
they have no fellowship with that which is. low or vile,
they carefully avoid all acts that would soil their lives
or shock their friends, but withal their lives are fruitless.
Fruitfulness, what is it but fulfilling the one great end
of our existence? The fruitless tree, however symmet
rical in form or resplendent in foliage, is a total failure
as a tree and has no place in the vineyard. The life
that bears no fruit of Christly service is equally a failure,
although it may shine with the adornments of culture and
learning and refinement.
Let us look upon this picture of the fruitless tree till
it carves its message deep into our souls. It speaks of
uselessness, of failure, of the very essence of sin and
unworthiness. Year after year the owner cares lor it
and gives it liberal cultivation, but when he seeks fruit
he finds none. What wonder that the second figure in
the parable is that of the indignant owner of the vine
yard? "Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard,
Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this
fig tree, and find none : cut it down ; why cujnbereth it
the ground?" Who is this vineyard owner? WhoriTbr
what does he stand for in the kingdom of righteousness?
God the Father? Most certainly not! For the Master is
462

THE FRUITLESS TREE
trying to show his disciples that this is not God's way of
dealing with men. He stands rather for the reign of
law literally interpreted. His spirit and command rep
resent the working of "natural law in the spiritual
world" if the element of grace were excluded.
On every page of nature this law is written in clearest
letters, Fruitlessness invites destruction. Thj^Ja^ire to
use a capacity or a faculty involves its loss. ThenegTect \
of "an—opportunity hinders the recurrence of an equal
opportunity. Professor Drummond tells us that "there
are certain burrowing animals — the mole, for instance —
which have taken to spending their lives beneath the
surface of the ground. And nature has taken revenge
on them in a thoroughly natural way — she has closed
their eyes. If they mean to live in darkness, she argues,
eyes are obviously a superfluous function. By neglect
ing them these animals make it clear that they do not
want them, and as one of nature's fixed principles is
that nothing shall exist in vain, the eyes are presently
taken away. . There are fishes also which have to pay the
same terrible forfeit for having made their abode in dark
caverns where eyes can never be required."
The unused muscle of the idler grows soft andjEegble.
If it be kept in continual idleness, like the arm of the
Indian fakir, it will finally perish beyond the possibility
of restoration. The unused mind gradually lapses into
childishness and imbecility. Not less surely does the
neglect of spiritual power tend to spiritual weakness
and death. The natural and perfectly just penalty for
moral fruitlessness is moral annihilation.
I say that this penalty is not only natural but per
fectly just. The idler is taking room and absorbing
opportunities that might be employed more fruitfully by
others.. 1 "Why cumberetb ^^ j£v,the j;mund?".i.s the indig-
nant Question... JXhe universe is infinite, and there is no
Tack of opportunity for all who will use it, but in all the
"boundlessness there is not room for a single idler.
463

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Whoever lives a useless life is robbing some other soul
of the privileges which it yearns to use.
God requires fruit from every life, the fruit of Christly
character and service, because he has given to every life
the -power to render such fruit. He has surrounded each
life with opportunities. He has bestowed upon each life
great possibilities. If one is not bearing fruit, he is
hindering some other soul. The opportunities that one
neglects another might improve. God only knows the
immeasurable damage that is done by a fruitless church
or a fruitless life. He only sees how many earnest souls
are deprived of opportunity for personal growth and
service by the selfishness of idlers.
Every fruitless disciple is a parasite in the kingdom
of heaven, sapping its divine life and giving nothing in
return. One cannot live a useless life without injuring
others as well as self. If the only result of 'neglect were
the loss to oneself, if it were merely to forfeit the glory
and the blessing of fruit-bearing, that would not be so
bad, though it were bad enough; but when our failure
involves others in loss, when it robs the very treasury
of the kingdom of heaven of its riches, then the unim
peachable justice of law becomes apparent.
Nevertheless, Law is not the last word of the parable.
Law is not the absolute monarch of our life. This is
God's universe, and everywhere the reign of grace may
be seen softening and qualifying the reign of law.
The third figure of our picture js that^of the pleading
dresser°^|~fBFrvineyard. Hear his*voice saying, "Let
it alone this year also, and I will give it yet more care
and cultivation, and then if it bear fruit, well : and if not,
then after that thou shalt cut it down." Here is an
element of the divine character that we often overlook.
The regularity and certainty of natural law are unques
tionable, yet .they are not mechanical and utterly heart
less in their operation. It is not true that even the mate
rial universe is governed by an inexorable order that
464

THE FRUITLESS TREE
visits every failure with swift and severe penalties. On
every hand there is at work another law that tends to
mitigate the natural consequences of error or neglect or
even of positive rebellion.
Notice for example the tremendous recuperative. forces
of nature. Whenever an accident befalls any creature
the vital forces at once set themselves to repair the dam
age. Nature herself is the best of physicians.- In fact, the
best and wisest -of human physicians can do nothing more
than to secure the most favorable conditions for nature to
accomplish her beneficent. work. A bone is broken,
and the surgeon sets the bone, as we say; but setting a
bone does nothing towards healing the fracture. The
knitting of the severed parts must be done by the forces
of nature, and there are certain processes that at once
set themselves in operation for this very purpose. It is
the manifestation of the work of grace. So, too, when
some one of God's children Transgresses "8 'moral law or
yields to some evil habit, the natural result would be
a rapid and overwhelming growth of evil. Following the
law of seed-sowing and harvest, every sin indulged
would produce a harvest of evil which would bring forth
in its turn a greater harvest till the life was a hopeless
wreck. But here again the reign of grace is manifest in
the continuous intervention of motives and influences
that work together to restore the will and strengthen
right purpose till evil is rooted out and the life is re
established in purity and uprightness.
Grace always tempers the working of law in God's
universe, because it is God's. There is no such thing as
mexorqbljt.la.vr. Between the two principles there is no
Intagonism. Grace and law work together for a com
mon end, and that end is salvation. By all means to
save man and to perfectly redeem the race, that is the
purpose. Law inexorable in its working would make of every
sinner a Judas, hopeless in his unavailing remorse.
465

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Only grace could restore a Peter after his base denial.
There is not a disciple who cannot make his own the
words of the poet —
"With mercy and with justice
My web of time he wove:
And aye the dews of sorrow
Were lustered with his love."
But even grace will not defend perpetual fruitlessness.
Opportunity may be prolonged, but it has a limit, and
continued, persistent uselessness must finally result in
destruction. Let us not forget that. Grace is not a sop
for uselessness, but a stimulus to hopeful activity and
earnest, service.
One cannot read this parable without feeling that it
makes for itself a very direct and vivid application to
present life and thought. Pharisee and publican, Jew and
Galilean, disciple and caviler, all disappear as if by mag
ic, and in their places we see the Church and the dis
ciple to-day. It is our false philosophy that Jesus is
answering. It is our false standard of life and duty
that Jesus is rebuking. And this is the essence and
meaning of his message — the peril and the penalty of
fruitlessness.
^ That barren fig tree, does it not truthfully represent
many a church and many an individual .life,,,ampng.3us ?
How often has God come tgjgxix hfe and mine, by his
Spirit, seeking fruit. iincTBhding none! Yet it has not
been" for lack of culture and care,, not for lack of spirit
ual privilege or opportunity. ^ It would seem as though
fhglArmighty had well-nigh exhausted the wealth of his
kingdom in pouring out blessings upon the people of this
generation and this land. We are the heirs of all the
spiritual" Inheritance of the ages. We are exalted to
heaven in the matter* of moral and religious privilege.
Not a soul in the age and land but enjoys opportunities
466

THE FRUITLESS TREE
that call for. highest achievement. We ought to be
saints, every man and woman of us. Yet our lives are
pitifully fruitless. We render exceedingly small returns
for this great spiritual, .outlay.
I sometimes wonder that God does not sweep away the
Church of the twentieth century as. he swept away the
Hebrew nation and as" he swept away the churches of
the Apocalypse. And so he surely" would were he the
"mere administrator of a fixed' system of law. The life
of the Church in this age, the repeated opportunities for
spiritual attainment and service that present themselves
to. us, all are witnesses to the reign of grace.
But who shall say how soon the day of grace may come
to an end ? Who shall say how soon the voice of mercy
shall join with the voice of justice and judgment in the
stern command, "Cut it down"? Oh, let the study of
this parable awaken us to earnest, faithful service, that
when next the Lord of the vineyard shall come, he may
find a full return for all his care and love.

467

Excuses

CHAPTER XXXVII
Excuses
the great supper
L-ike 14:16-34
Text. — "1 pray thee have me excused.-" — Luke 14:18
MEN like to be humbugged," said Barnum,
the renowned showman. The saying
proves him a wise philosopher. So well
do men like to be humbugged that many
will humbug themselves when no one else
will do it for them.
There are certain delusions born of the Fall which
men cherish with wonderful tenacity. They are
handed down from generation to generation as a perpet
ual legacy, and they seem no less fascinating to-day than
they were in the remotest ages of the past. Men hold
them often at the peril of their immortal souls.
Let a single example suffice for illustration. Where
can you find a man who does not flatter himself that deep
down in his heart he loves righteousness and hates sin?
Ask the indifferent man, or the selfish idler, or the open
sinner, or the tempter of his fellows, the outwardly re
spectable or the abandoned wretch, and each will tell
you that he admires the most perfect purity and holiness
and that he would choose above all things else such a
character for himself, that he longs for it and strives for
it, but that in his case it is unattainable. Nature, sur
roundings, temperament, circumstances, all combine to
471

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
put the coveted prize beyond his reach. In other words,
they all wish to be godly, but God will not let them.
Against this particular delusion is aimed the parable
of The Excuses. Jesus is sitting at a feast in the house
of a leading Pharisee, and is surrounded by persons who
are quite ready to discuss his teaching in the abstract,
but who have no desire for personal enlightenment or
salvation. As is his wont, he seizes the opportunity to
utter some pointed and practical truths, and the con
versation is becoming a trifle one-sided and uncomfort
able for some of his listeners.
Just at this moment one of the audience, wishing to
show how perfectly they all accord with Jesus on the
vital point of the desire for righteousness, exclaims,
"Blessed is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of
God!" It was a brilliant remark — so— true, sp pious.
ah°ye,j|L^a~Hi£Jl-SQMn(iing. f>p yon tint almost hear
the .murmur..o£..a.pp.rxivai that ran around thcjwhqle_CQm-
pany? Can you not see thaf Took' of 'relief that hails the
glittering generality as a foil to the sharp thrust of
Jesus' words? More than one in the company said in
his heart, "I wish I had said that." And every man
among them responds with a silent "Amen!"
Yes, I doubt, not the speaker reallylriought he meant
whaTlie"s'alafrAnd th"e"rest of the coinpany thought they
meant it" too. The delusion that they longed to enter
into the kingdom of God was the very essence of their
religion, as it often is of ours.
But the Master is not at afl dazzledjby this brilliant
utterance! To™"hihT it is transparent nonsense7~and he
immediately* "prepares to prick the bubble of platitude,
and to destroy the glittering but unsubstantial delusion.
A parable is his chosen instrument; and these are its
salient points: —
A certain man made a supper, and bade many. At
supper time he sends out his servants to call the guests
to the feast. Instead of coming, they send back flimsy
472

THE GREAT SUPPER
excuses for staying away. Indignant at the slight, the
host sends out his servants once and again to gather in
whomsoever they may from the streets and lanes, that
his house may be filled.
Nothing is said of the effect of the story. Nothing
need~be"saTd7" There can be but one effect. The bubble
has "burst For that brilliant exclamation was only a
bubble — glitter and gas, that is all. It could not bear
the touch of hard truth.
" Blessed is it to eat bread in the kingdom of God?
Then why are you not doing it? Why, when the invi
tation comes" when "the oppoTfrffility offers, do you hold
back? Why do you put this blessedness from you with
all manner of excuses and subterfuges and falsehoods?
Why do you satisfy yourself with commonplace delights
when this supreme blessing is within your reach?
No one of his hearers could fail to recognize his own
likeness in the parable. Even the pious old humbug
who had voiced the popular delusion so perfectly could
not doubt that this was a true reflection of himself, in
vited to the feast which he had declared so blessed but
inventing excuses for staying away. The parable is a
most complete answer to all who, like this man, deceive
themselves with the notion that they long for the life
of God's kingdom but are not permitted to enjoy it. See
how^fnmTHasbS^Se.ir deliisiM "at xyixy point.
 _X"the delusion. .rests upon, the idea ..thatjthe
heay£nljwuid-*hiIHJ^ tic. The pleasures of the kingdom are really the high
est and best, but they imply the loss of. all earthly joy.
The godly life is the life unnatural, a gloomy, solemn,
straitlaced life, that can be enjoyed only by persons
of a very peculiar disposition and that is wholly imprac
ticable for the average person, especially in youth. Such
is the notion that has obtained in many minds through
out the ages.
The introduction to the parable is aimed at this notion.
473

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
"A certain man made a great supper." A supper!
There is the symbol of true earthly pleasure, especially
to an Oriental mind. By no other figure could our Lord
have expressed to that audience so attractively the idea
of real happiness as by a feast. This is his favorite sym
bol for the kingdom of heaven. Here it is "a great
supper." Elsewhere it is a wedding festival; and yet
again, the marriage-feast of a king's son.
Acconhn^JoJhe.^m^ of
heaveriTsnke a funeral procession, slQw„.an4„„solemn.
Its" atmosphere is* laden with tears and. sighs. But you
may review the whole „ course of our Lord's- teaching
never "so carefully.. and you will find no such figures
used. "No, it is the. festival, the occasion of joy and
gladness, the most delightful thing in life. Again and
again the divine Artist sketches for us the joyous pro
cession, the brilliantly lighted hall, the laden tables, and
the happy company gathered together.
What is his thought? Is it not clear? The ...life of
holiness, salvation, religion, is really a joyful thing. That
is the "gospel jhat Jesus" preached. Go.cLdQeg,.npt,c.9m-
maiicf us to purchase future peace by the sacrifice of
truestrjoy here and now. He calls us from the husks of
the jfwineherd to the abundance and delight of the royal
banquet. He calls us to the largest and most enduring
happiness for young and old in this present life. The
unholy man knows nothing of real and unqualified hap
piness. If you want to make the most of this world,
be a. Christian. To eat your daily bread in the kingdom
of God- will transform the humblest and most scanty
meal into a, royal feast.
And the measure of your enjoyment will be the degree
of your consecration and self-sacrifice. "When the
burnt^oggring ^Jbegaja^^he^song.-of" the*.- Lard beganllso
wifhthe trumpets/',. The song always begins with the
sacrifice, and its gladness and harmony ever keep pace
with the surrender and unselfish effort If you have seen
474

THE GREAT SUPPER
unhappy Christian lives, solemn lives, gloomy lives, it
was because there was so little Christianity in them.
Whole-hearted Christianity, unhesitating sacrifice and
surrender, makes men happy. Every true disciple ought
to be perpetually singing — "There is sunshine in my
soul." There is always sunshine and gladness and music
in the soul that is given up to pure and Christlike
service. Again, tbn ^^^mJ^RiJ-^^m^iiit^Qksxi^^^^^^
theno^iOTithat^^
tiiejggajgg^ life. The sinner is ever ready to excuse
Ins sin i on "the ground of temptation. "I would do right
and be right, but my temperament, my circumstances.
my surroundings, all combine to draw me in the wrong
direction," says even the most ungodly. And the Chris
tian Church joins the general chorusA and sings —
"Is this vile world a friend to grace,
To help me on to God"?
All of which simply means that God has so made us
and so placed us that it is practically impossible for us
to do what he commands. Men talk of temptation as
though the only moral forces in the world were those
that draw them away from God. Now is that true? Are
there no temptations to righteousness? Are there no
forces drawing us to the life of holiness and truth ? What
says the parable?
The giver of the banquet sends out the first general
invitation. Then, when the supper is ready, he sends out
his servants to each invited guest to remind him that all
is prepared. And when the invited guests ' reject his
kindness, he sends out with greatest urgency to bring
in others to take their places that the banquet-hall may
be filled with guests.
What shall we say of the difference between the guests
first invited and those called later? Whom do they in
475

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
each case represent? That is a question with which we
are not vitally concerned. I see here not so much a sug
gestion of the difference between God's chosen people and
the world at large as a picture of the divine persistency
in seeking to fill his house. God wants heaven to be
filled. He wishes you and me to enter into its joy. Too
long we have pictured him to ourselves as indifferent or
even as hindering us from coming. Such a picture is
a libel on the character of God. He is ever throwing
around us influences to draw us to himself. The devil
is active and eager in his efforts to entrap and destroy
us, but God is more active and eager in his efforts to
save us.
You say .there are numberless temptations . for you. to
do^wrbhg. ^Ace-.thereno forces to help you todo-right?
Are there no influences to draw you to the Christian life?
What "of the invitations of God's Spirit that have been
repeated to you many times? What of the earnest
appeal of the Christian Church? What of the eager
desire of loving friends for your salvation? What of
the voice of conscience within warning you against the
wrong and urging you to the right? I tell you it is
easier to do right than it is to do wrong, easier to be
righteous than to be sinful. You never do wrong but by
the positive putting away of the influences that draw
you towards the right.
Which is easier, to maintain one's physical life in per
fect obedience to the laws of health or in disregard of
those laws? True, one need make no effort to disre
gard those laws. He may do harmful things without
knowing it. He may take poison through sheer igno
rance. But when he has disobeyed the laws of health,
then it requires infinitely more pains to save the life than
it would have required in the first place to avoid error.
So it requires set purpose to walk in the way of right
eousness ; but once the life is given to the service of God,
habits of righteousness are formed, ties of brotherhood
476

THE GREAT SUPPER
are knit, and there is an increasing force of good influ
ence working in us, daily weakening the force of evil.
You think that God is against you in the struggle. I
repeat, God wants heaven to be filled. He wants you
now to live in and to enjoy the heavenly life. He is
working and pleading for that, and you can fail of it only
by deliberately putting away the influences which at this
very moment he throws around you.
Now look at the third point, the excuses for refusing
the invitation. With this point Jesus punctures the de
lusion from the other side. What are the excuses ?
a. "I have bought a piece of ground, and I must
needs go and see it."
b. "I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to
prove them."
c. "I have married a wife."
These different excuses may have some individual
significance, but that does not appear to us. They have
one common characteristic, absurdity, and that is enough
for the purpose of the parable. Not one of the excuses
has any foundation in reality. The first two matters
could easily have been deferred had there been any
desire to go to the supper, and the third was the best
of reasons for going. The first weeks and months of
married life were ever the time of special festivity and
holiday. Plainly the thought is this: These men did not wish
to go to the supper, and the excuses were trumped up
for the occasion. There is an Oriental fable which runs
as follows : A certain man went to his neighbor to bor
row a rope. The neighbor replied, "I cannot lend it to
you, for I am using it myself to tie up a heap of sand."
"But," said the first, "you cannot tie up sand with a
rope." "Oh, yes," returned the other, "you can do
almost anything with a rope when you do not wish to
lend it."
The application of the parable is no less plain than its
477

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS j
interpretation. The reasons which men give for not
accepting the divine invitation are false. Often their
excuses for not coming to God are the best of reasons
for coming. "The sinner's cannot is always in reality
the sinner's will not."
We may talk as we please about the blessedness of the
heavenly life. We may persuade ourselves that we really
long to live that life and to share its joy. But if we are
not actually doing it, the one reason is to be found in
our own wills. Our professions of desire are not sin
cere. We may have a certain admiration for the true
life (and who does not?), but there are other things
which we prefer. If we choose the world and worldly oc
cupations and pleasures, if we are wholly absorbed with
material things, it is because we believe that these are
more immediately profitable and pleasure-giving than
spiritual things. The choice is ever before us and we
are free to take which we will. When we fail of the
highest and best life, we pity ourselves and exclaim, "We
could not"; but God says, "Ye would not."
Herej_Jh£n^. J5_lhJe^taacJau^ J&w
words. __TheJ.ife.to which .God. calls you, the. Christian
life,*the"life of holiness and self-sacrifice, is a -happy .life.
_The_heayenly Father does not wish to deprive any of his
children of goQd.butJatlierJjx^v^^the4n-ever.JhaJiigh-
est good. lie, calls you ^toT a feast,, to a life ..of .joy, and
gladness for this world as well as for the world to come.
Furthermore. Jae.. has, not .simply j^pjridedj&s-.aud left
you to choose while he waits the issue with indifference.
Still "less has "he" "ffiade "it hard for you to secure the
blessing, placing you in a world where Satan has chief
power to ensnare you with his wiles while you get no
help to withstand him. God has surrounded you with
influences to help you. He has sent countless messages
of invitation to you. If you do not enter into the heav
enly life and joy, it is not because you cannot, but
because you will not. 478

THE GREAT SUPPER
Be honest jKifcb, yourself. Ba-siaeere. Do not.pretend
that yj6u'"'wish to be a. Christian but cannot,. Do not
deceive yourself with the notion that you are trying to
live the "true life, when all the while you prefer another
and a lower mode of existence. Look. yourself squarely
in Jhe,; face and jcpjnjes^ that. you are not a, Christian sim-
pTy'"and solely because., you do. ijgfc wisbJ-Q-M ,o,n.e...... You
are given over to the world. Sincerity is the first step
towards better things. Be honest with yourself and
then you will be prepared to hear the voice of God more
clearly. Many are the messer^r£^M^o4,J^L,sJeut.1ta*ijayite
youToHSifjfeast. "Many are the voices .tiijtare^ calling
yduTo"'a better' life. "Many are the influences drawing
you to Christ. Thousands of times in the Scriptures we
find the blessed word, "Come." On the last page of the
Bible we have the invitation pressed upon every reader
with cumulative force, as though God were loath to
cease his pleading : —
"And the Spirit and the Bride say, Come.
And let him that heareth say, Come.
And let him that is athirst come.
And whosoever will, let him come,"
and eat his daily bread in the kingdom of God.

479

The Christian Ideal
of Duty

CHAPTER XXXVIII
The Christian Ideal
of Duty
the ploughing servant
Luke 17:7-10
Text. — "When ye shall have done all . . . say, . . . We have
done that which it was our duty to do." — Luke 17:10
BLESSED is that life upon which the word
"Duty" is writ large. Such a life will not fail
to be noble, fruitful, and in the truest sense
happy. Few words in the language are more
significant than this. Would you learn the
secret of British character and supremacy? Listen to
those immortal words of Nelson as he prepares his fleet
for battle, "England expects every man to do his duty!"
Do you ask, Whence came the moral strength and pur
pose of our fathers, which enabled them to overcome
all obstacles in the settlement of a new land and to im
press their own character upon succeeding generations?
I answer, It sprang from the profound sense of duty
that was closely interwoven with the very warp and
fiber of their life.
And this word "duty" is one of the key-words of
Christianity. Omit it, and you emasculate the gospel,/
you make the religion of Jesus a mere sentiment, a mat
ter of whims and fancies and feelings. Retain it, give
it a worthy place, and religion becomes virile, puissant,
stable. Read the life of Jesus and note how frequently
he uses the word "must" regarding himself. From'
that early day when he said of himself, "I must be about
483

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
my Father's business," to the very close of his ministry,
he was spurred onwards by a perpetual "must," a pro
found and all-controlling sense of duty. Nor was it
otherwise with the great apostle. Hear his ringing dec
laration, "I am debtor." The sense of indebtedness,
which is the essence of duty, was the inspiration of his
noble life and untiring service. This same sense of duty
is the foundation of all manliness in religion, the pith of
all moral and spiritual power.
The parable before us brings us face to face with this
vital principle of all true godliness. It finds its climax
in the supreme recognition of duty. The connection of
the parable with the preceding verses is loose and some
what indistinct. Practically it stands alone and must
be interpreted as an independent picture. Just what sug
gested it to Jesus' mind at the time when it was uttered
is not easy to determine. In fact, the time itself seems
really indeterminate, since the opening portion of the
seventeenth of Luke is made up of utterances apparently
fragmentary and disconnected.
It is not difficult, however, to imagine the conditions
which called forth the parable. The tendency to be
satisfied with partial service, to set narrow limits to duty,
to aim at easy honors in religion, is a common weakness.
The early disciples were not free from this tendency.
Only by the constant reiteration of higher ideals were
they gradually led forth from the selfishness of their
primitive notions to a conception of religious life and
service that was worthy of the strongest manhood.
The sketch is actual rather than ideal. Its appeal as
a picture is not to the conscience of his hearers, but to
their daily experience and practise. It portrays life as
it is, not life as it might be, or as it ought to be. It
asks not what God would do, but what they themselves
would do and expect under given circumstances. The
reader of to-day would scarcely sympathize with the
somewhat ungracious master, although his manner and
484

THE PLOUGHING SERVANT
conduct would doubtless meet with the unqualified ap
proval of those to whom the parable was spoken. We do
not see in this man a perfect representative of the
heavenly Father ; nevertheless the picture as a whole is a
perfect illustration of the truth which it is designed to
teach. The high lights are not cast upon the master at
all, but upon the spirit and expectation of the servant.
He is the central figure of the sketch. All else is back
ground. Look, then, at the servant. As a true servant, he is
wholly occupied with service. His chief concern is not
with thanks or praise or honor or wages, but to do well
and faithfully the work that falls to him. Not that he
is a drudge, a slave, a machine, but that he has a part,
however humble it may be, in the world's work, and to
make that part complete, perfect, is the first obligation
of his life. That is duty; it is the debt he owes to him
self, to his master, to God. That duty is absolute. It
is not conditioned upon his master's gratitude or kind
ness or anything else. It is a debt that he is bound to
pay in full.
This servant, I say, is the central figure of the para
ble. He is the true type of discipleship and of all high
est service. The best thing about a great deed is that
it be done without thought of greatness ; the best good
ness is unconscious goodness. What a splendid picture
of heroism is presented to us in the story of Nehemiah !
When in time of great danger that noble statesman-
prophet is urged to flee into the temple for safety, he
replies, "Who is there, that, being as I am, would go into
the temple to save his life ?" That question enhances the
glory of his action tenfold, for it proclaims the uncon
scious hero. Nehemiah thinks it is but commonplace,
every-day faithfulness, such as any other in his position
would manifest. In point of fact, not one man in a thou
sand would have done as he did. Your true hero is al
ways modest, because he never knows that he is a hero.
485

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
So also your true philanthropist or benefactor never
thinks of philanthropy. Self-conscious benevolence is
not kindness; it is often the most painful cruelty. The
service or self-sacrifice that keeps a careful credit ac
count and ever demands due appreciation or thanks is
a sham and a delusion. The loving mother is unconscious
of any sacrifice as she freely spends time, strength and
life for her child, even though that child repays her love
with base ingratitude. Any sense of sacrifice detracts
just so much from the glory and the genuineness of
mother love. Expectation of thanks will dull the luster
of the finest action. We seek to prove our love to God
by our readiness to take up this or that "cross" in his
service, but the very fact that we call our service a cross
is evidence of the weakness, not the strength, of our
love. We have not caught the true ideal of Christian
service till we can say after the most arduous labor, the
most exacting sacrifice —
"When I'm not thanked at all, I'm thanked enough.
I've done my duty, and I've done no more."
The Christian Ideal of Duty, therefore, is the topic
which our parable illuminates. What are some of the
distinctive features of that ideal which it portrays?
First of all, to my mind, it speaks this truth, Who
seeks earthly praise forfeits heavenly grace. Any sort
of work that is done for pay alone, or with a principal
outlook towards some reward, degrades the workman,
but the humblest task done for love exalts the doer and
becomes an added blessing in his life. The servant who
always looks for tips inevitably becomes a flunky though
he be a collegian. Even the artist or the poet may
strangle the divine spirit within him for the sake of
wealth or fame or other reward, and so be cast down
from the heights of genius to the common plane of hack
or artisan. The spirit of commercialism, the growing
486

THE PLOUGHING SERVANT
habit of demanding material return for every service
rendered to individuals or society, the careful balancing
of work and pay, is undermining the character of the age.
What! Shall we not receive pay for our work? If
not, how shall we live? Certainly we must receive pay
for our work; but always the first and most prominent
thought of the workman in whatsoever sphere should be
of his work, not of his pay. To do work worthy of his
manhood, to use his powers fully and effectively, is every
man's duty whether he is fairly paid for it or not. Let
him make sure of this first, that he is doing the most and
the best work of which he is capable ; then let him secure
such reward as he may.
The best service is never adequately paid in this world.
The president of Harvard College receives no larger
salary than the chef of one of Boston's leading hotels.
The best men in public office, whether municipal or
national, have ever been those that have accepted the
trusts to which they were chosen at great personal
sacrifice. They are men whose professional or business
incomes have been much greater than the salaries re
ceived while in office. In fact, the man who seeks a
public office because of the stipend attached is not worthy
the office he seeks. He Who limits his work by the pay
he receives, though he adjust the balance never so accu
rately, is a public malefactor. Men may call him honest,
but he cannot escape the judgment of God, who calls
him unfaithful. This is the penalty of such measured
service — loss of joy and satisfaction in the work itself,
deterioration of skill and power, and a general lowering
of the whole tone of manhood. He only can escape the
moral and spiritual decay that result from commer
cialism who resolutely exalts the ideal of duty above re
ward, who is supremely conscious of the debt he owes
to the world, and suffers himself to forget what the
world owes him.
Not to win applause or to accumulate merit, but to
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
discharge the soul's indebtedness, is the ruling motive
of every true life. This sense of indebtedness does not
imply a slavish spirit, nor does it make drudgery of our
life work. Understood aright, it is a continual inspira
tion to tireless endeavor; its result is growing spiritual
strength, increasing earnestness and devotion. "Bless
ed are the poor in spirit; for theirs is the kingdom of
heaven," says the Master; and the unvarying experience
of the ages proves that heavenly grace comes not to
those who are supremely conscious of their own merit,
but rather to those who are ever conscious of duty, —
i. e., of debt. He had caught the first lesson of our
parable who wrote the lines,
"Life is not long enough to let me work
As I desire ; but all the years will hold
Shall I pour forth. Perhaps it may be mine
To do some deed was never done before,
And clear my obligation to the world."
A second truth clearly illustrated by our parable is
this : The doing of one duty does not excuse the neglect
of another. The true life is complete, symmetrical.
Moral obligation implies perfection. The servant in the
picture held a twofold position ; he was both an outdoor ,
and an indoor servant. Faithfulness in the field did not
release him from the duty of house service. Now what
ever our more enlightened modern views of service may
lead us to think of the conditions here represented, we
know that, from the standpoint of the times in which the
scene was enacted, the servant as well as the master
would consider the twofold demand as perfectly reason
able ; hence it is a clear case of moral obligation.
As such, it perfectly represents our relation to duty in
the highest sense — our duty to God. Men may be, men
often are, unreasonable in their demands upon us. They
require that which is beyond our power. They lay bur-
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THE PLOUGHING SERVANT
dens upon us which we are unable to bear. Not so with
God. With him, ability is always the measure of moral
obligation. "She hath done what she could" is the
Master's description of a perfect service. The same
words applied to any life would testify that the life was
perfect. "I ought, therefore I can," is the statement of
universal truth ; for whatever we cannot do it is no part
of our duty to do.
Yet is duty more far-reaching than most of us are
willing to acknowledge. We are only too ready to con
tent ourselves with the partial and the incomplete.
Because we are faithful, perhaps conspicuously zealous,
in some one sphere of service, we easily condone our
neglect in another sphere. The Pharisees of old
imagined that because they scrupulously tithed the mint
and the anise and the cummin they were excusable for
neglect of "the weightier matters of the law, judgment,
mercy, and faith." The modern Pharisee more
often makes his honesty or his kindness or his benevo
lence an excuse for the neglect of religious life and ser
vice. The one position is as irrational as the other. Both
are unchristian. The rocks of Scylla are no less fatal
than the crags of Charybdis.
There is no clashing of duties in God's kingdom, no
overlapping of obligations. In the perfect life there is
room for all service. Each part exactly fits into its
corresponding part, so that there is no crowding or dis
agreement. God's plan for you and for me is like a per
fect chord of music in which all the different notes com
bine in one noble harmony. God asks of no man any
thing that he has not the time and the strength and the
sense to do perfectly. When we excuse our neglect of
one class of duties on the score of superior faithfulness
in another sphere, the Christ of to-day replies, as of old,
"These ye ought to have done, and not to have left the
other undone." Halfness is infidelity. Incompleteness
is sin. Perfect righteousness is the only righteousness.
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
A third truth lies on the very surface of the parable
before us. Let me put it into a single sentence: There
are no works of supererogation. The phrase sounds
strange to Protestant ears, but to the Romanist it is
familiar enough. "Works of supererogation," according
to the teachings of the Roman Catholic theologians, are
such good deeds as men may perform over and above
what is necessary for their own salvation. They are
such acts of benevolence or kindness or self-sacrifice as
surpass the requirements of morality or righteousness,
and are therefore specially meritorious.
Protestantism repudiates the phrase and denies the
fact ; yet in many a heart the old belief still lurks under
a new form. Most of us draw a line somewhere between
the ethical and the super-ethical or saintly. Some extend
the bounds of duty and morality far beyond the limits
set by others ; yet they are few who do not fix a standard
within which all is duty and beyond which is a goodly
circle where every action is optional and implies an extra
ordinary degree of merit.
In this outer circle we are wont to place the
sufferings of the martyrs, the heroism of distinguished
patriots, the sacrifices of missionaries, the gifts of the
benevolent, all deeds of charity and kindly service, un
usual forbearance and the spirit of continuous forgive
ness. An employer pays his workmen promptly and
justly, and we call it ethical. Out of his weatlh he im
proves their condition and we call it benevolence. A
father provides for his family and we call it duty. From
his surplus income he clothes a few poor or extends his
care beyond his immediate family circle and we call it
charity. A brilliant social queen maintains a pure life
and an unsullied character and we call it morality. She
manifests an interest in her less favored sisters or devotes
some of her time and influence to the rescue of the fallen
and we call it bounty.
Thus in every realm we distinguish sharply between
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THE PLOUGHING SERVANT
the obligatory and the optional. The one class of acts,
limited and definite, represents universal duty; the other
class, infinite in its range, excites our admiration but
does not appeal to the common conscience. To pour
out one's wealth in response to human need, to give one's
life freely in self-sacrifice for others, this we readily
acknowledge to be a universal privilege, but seldom think
it a moral necessity. The philanthropy of a Howard,
the devotion of a Florence Nightingale or a Clara Bar
ton, the munificence of a Carnegie, the heroic self-
sacrifice of a Mary Reed, these and all similar acts we
deem extra moral. They transcend the realm of duty
and are to be reckoned in the higher realm of charity.
Now Jesus knew no such distinction. To him nothing
was extra moral, nothing was transcendent. The su
preme act of self-renunciation was to him plainest duty,
and power to its utmost was fraught with moral obliga
tion; and this, not because he was different from other
men, but because he was like them. Heroism, sacrifice,
benevolence — these are but other names for duty,
plain duty. "When ye shall have done all those things
. . . say, We are unprofitable servants; we have done
that which was our duty to do."
Does this seem a hard saying, a disheartening ideal?
It will cease to be such when we realize that duty is but
opportunity in the ore, and its product is not praise,
even though it be the praise of God; rather is it charac
ter and life. For salvation is not a judicial pronounce
ment. It is an actual rescue and transfiguration. If
we toil and sacrifice and suffer, it is not that we may
satisfy the exacting demands of a sovereign, but that we
may enrich ourselves with all the fulness of the highest
life. Too often we picture duty as a hard taskmaster
standing over us lash in hand and requiring of us a full
tale of bricks even when the necessary straw is withheld.
It were nearer the truth to see in each service a brick,
,in each sacrifice a block of finely polished marble, which
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
we may build into a noble palace for our eternal habita
tion. If God summons us to toil and trial, it is not that
he may be enriched or in any way profited by our service,
but that we ourselves may be redeemed, sanctified, glori
fied. Men magnify the mere incidents of service* the praise,
the blame, the thanks, the criticism. The Christ ever
magnifies the service itself, and that which is the essen
tial fruit of service, even life and character. Appreci
ation is pleasant and material rewards are gratifying,
but service itself is necessary, the only necessary thing;
and there is no service, however trifling, however ardu
ous, but enfolds within itself its own adequate reward.
That it makes a hero is the amplest recompense of
heroism, though no monument commemorate the deed
or any word of grateful recognition be ever spoken. Not
the name of saint nor a place in the Church's calendar
is the true reward of martyrdom, but to have been made
saintly, to have purged away the dross of sin and brought
forth the pure gold of righteousness.
We externalize God. We put a difference between
his glory and our own highest good, and so duty seems
hard. Could we but realize continually that God is
within us, that he has no desire for us apart from our
perfect happiness and well-being, that when we are
working for God we are in reality "working out our own
salvation," then would service be transformed, and every
task would seem a privilege. To the slave every small
est service is a burden, it is hateful. But the free man,
toiling for his own enrichment, rejoices in every increase
of labor that promises proportionate return. The
student for joy of knowledge and discovery takes delight
in study though it strain his eyes and waste his frame
far beyond the midnight hour. The artist for the very
gladness of creation toils with chisel or brush, unwearied,
long after the artisan has laid aside his tools in weari-
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THE PLOUGHING SERVANT
ness. It was "for the joy set before him that Jesus en
dured the cross and despised the shame."
Then let us rid ourselves of this slavish idea of service
that dominates mankind, this idea that sees in work an
enemy and a curse, and aims chiefly at external rewards.
Let us exalt duty until it shall seem to us a noble thing
— yes, the noblest thing ; and we shall gladly make our
own those eager words of surrender and allegiance:
"Stern Daughter of the Voice of God, O Duty !
I myself commend
Unto thy guidance from this hour;
O, let my weakness have an end!
Give unto me, made lowly wise,
The spirit of self-sacrifice;
The confidence of reason give ;
And in the light of truth, thy bondman
let me live."

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A Concluding Parable
of Jesus

CHAPTER XXXIX
A Concluding Parable
of Jesus
the two builpers
Matt. 7:24-29; Luke 6:46-49
Text. — "He is like a man building a house. " — Luke 6:48
JESUS sums up the preface to his greatest series of
parables in the words, "Take heed how ye hear."
Had he seen fit to condense this concluding para
ble in a similar way, its exhortation would be,
"Take heed what ye do." For as the significance
of the former parable turns upon hearing, so the lesson
of this one is, the importance of doing. To properly
apprehend truth we must hear it aright, there must
be attention, appropriation, assimilation. To make the
truth of any value to our lives, we must put it into
practise. Its worth is measured in units of action.
"The great question regarding every man is not, How
much truth does he put into his creed? but, How much
truth does he put into his life?" The practical value of
every creed must be estimated by its influence on char
acter and conduct. Truth is worthless if it be not trib
utary to action. The learning that does not trans
figure life is a dead loss. Practise is the goal of all true
preaching. Even the gospel finds its sole vindication in
the growing righteousness of the peoples that have re
ceived it. Jesus Christ did not thrust himself before men
as an expounder of new truths. He did not come to
establish a new school of theology or philosophy. The
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
world already had truth enough. The mind of man was
overburdened with hair-splitting philosophy, and men's
souls were bewildered with contradictory and impracti
cable religious dogmas.
Jesus came to clear away much of the useless rubbish
which blocked the pathway of human salvation. He
came to lead men in the practise of truth as old as eter
nity. He came to regenerate human life and action.
When the multitudes listened with wonder to his simple
but searching discourses, he said to them again and
again, "Be not mere hearers but doers of the truth."
Other religions were speculative. Their teachings were
far removed from the affairs and activities of every-day
life. The teachings of Jesus Christ touch life at every
point. Christianity as set forth in his ministry is simply
religion as an applied science.
It was at the close of that most remarkable discourse,
"The Sermon on the Mount," that Jesus spoke the para
ble of The Two Builders. I have taken the sketch out
of its original setting and chronological position, yet I
have done no violence to its meaning or purpose. I
propose to use it precisely as the Master used it — as a
final blow of the hammer to drive home a series of prac
tical and important truths. It is not an independent or
isolated lesson. It is rather a concluding appeal, a
final word of application to a more extended homily, a
barb to the arrow already flown.
We have been studying together the entire series of
our Lord's parables. We have brought forth from the
divine treasure-house things new and old. Now the
vision is past. The matchless panorama is completed.
We close the book and are about to lay it aside ; but the
Great Teacher bids us tarry a moment. While the pic
tures are still fresh in our minds he will enforce the
lessons they have suggested. "The words of the wise
are as . . . nails," says the writer of Ecclesiastes. True
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THE TWO BUILDERS
enough! And a nail is the more secure if clinched.
The parable of The Two Builders is a clincher.
Listen ! "Every one that cometh unto me, and heareth
my words, and doeth them, I will show you to whom he
is like: he is like a man building a house, who digged
and went deep, and laid a foundation upon the rock: and
when a flood arose, the stream brake against that house,
and could not shake it ; because it had been well builded.
But he that heareth, and doeth not, is like a man that
built a house upon the earth without a foundation;
against which the stream brake, and straightway it fell
in ; and the ruin of that house was great." Such is the
parable in its less familiar form as recorded by Luke. The
simplicity and directness of the utterances almost
preclude the necessity of exposition. Difficult indeed is it
to make either clearer or more forcible that which is in
itself so perfectly lucid. The application lies upon the
very surface.
As mere specimens of literature the parables are
unique. The stories and sketches are classic. We admire
them as the artistic soul admires a rare collection of
beautiful pictures. We may study them as realistic
tales of Oriental life and manners. We may take a
scholar's delight in tracing out their many and varied
lines of analogy and in bringing to light the almost end
less shades of truth which they present. We may ex
haust their stores of figure and fact, of illustration and
argument ; and with all this we may utterly fail to dis
cover their true value or to appropriate the blessing
which they are designed to convey.
We have many diverse canons of interpretation. We
announce our principles and lay down our rules. Yet,
after all has been said and written, there is but one
ultimate and infallible rule for interpreting the parables,
one method of extracting the kernel from all of Jesus'
teachings. They must be interpreted in the life. The
heavenly vision must be made an earthly reality.
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
Every parable embodies a principle, and the exhorta
tion of Him who spake the parable is not "Admire,"
or "Discuss," or even "Believe," but "Do." "Let this
principle inspire to action, direct effort, control purpose."
"Upon this truth lay the foundations of character and
conduct." You may be saying in your heart that you
have gained some new ideas from this review of our
Lord's words. Very likely. But have you formed any
new purposes? Have you entered any new fields of
service? Have you cultivated any new graces of charac
ter, or developed any new skill or strength in action?
In short, has this review of the parables led you to do
anything nobler, better, more helpful than before ? This
is the question of questions, the ultimate test of the value
of the parables to you.
Let us be specific. There is the parable of The Sower.
Has it made you a more earnest, attentive and fruitful
hearer of God's truth? Has the parable of The Ten
Virgins stimulated you to a more careful and thorough
cultivation of character? You have admired the action
of The Good Samaritan as portrayed in the Gospel page,
but has your study of his example made you more
neighborly? How about those parables on prayer —
The Friend at Midnight, The Importunate Widow, the
Pharisee and the Publican? You grasped their meaning
perhaps more clearly than ever before, but have your
own prayers been more persistent, more trustful, more
genuine than they formerly were? The parable of The
Talents has been studied in vain unless we have brought
forth our talents from their hiding-places and put them
at interest for the enrichment of their owner. The
parable of The Pounds might as well have been un-
uttered so far as we are concerned, or spoken to lifeless
rocks, if we are not striving for the tenfold increase in
our own lives. So we might go over the entire list of
the parables. If there be a single parable the lesson of
which we have not reproduced in our own lives, that para-
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THE TWO BUILDERS
ble is a dead letter to us and might as well be blotted
from the Bibles.
It is not the parable in the New Testament that is to
bless mankind, but the parable in human life. When
we can read in the daily conduct of every Christian the
lesson of The Good Shepherd, of The Marriage Feast,
and of The Good Samaritan, then we may be sure that
the millennium is not far away.
Thus much by way of general suggestion. Turn we
now to our parable for more specific study and inter
pretation. "Every one that . . . heareth my words, and doeth
them, ... is like a man building a house, who digged
and went deep, and laid a foundation upon a rock."
"Building a house." First we see a general sugges
tion. Looking upon that word "house" as generic, it
becomes simply a typical structure, a building. From
this point of view it may represent any architectural
creation from a cottage to a cathedral, from a warehouse
to a watch-tower. As such it is the embodiment of ex
ternal beauty or of material strength and stability.
But this does not exhaust the symbolism. The house
stands for a home. It is a specific word as well as
generic. It has a social no less than an architectural
significance. "An Englishman's house in his castle,"
says the popular proverb. About the word "home"
cluster thoughts of refuge, of rest, of security and peace.
First, then, let us think of this word "house" as an
architectural term. We are looking at a building, a struc
ture merely. We are concerned with the laws of stabil
ity, the conditions of permanence and strength. From
this point of view the house of the parable becomes a type
of human character, of the "House not made with hands."
Every disciple of Jesus Christ is an architect. Every
hearer of truth is a builder of some sort. We are build
ing, all of us whether we will or no, for time and for
eternity. The figure is a common one and vividly
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
suggestive. Character or soul is the grandest of all
human creations. It is a work of measureless impor
tance to the builder; and the conditions of success for
the spiritual builder are no less definite and clear than
those which govern his fellow craftsman in wood and
stone. "Souls are built as temples are, —
Sunken deep, unseen, unknown,
Lies the sure foundation stone.
Then the courses framed to bear,
Lift the cloisters pillared fair.
Last of all the airy spire,
Soaring heavenward, higher and higher,
Nearest sun and nearest star.
Souls are built as temples are,
Based on truth's eternal law,
Sure and steadfast, without flaw.
Through the sunshine, through the snows,
Up and on the building goes ;
Every fair thing finds its place,
Every hard thing lends a grace,
Every hand may make or mar."
Now the first, the immediate aim of the gospel is the
transformation of character. The most fatal result of
sin is not the sorrow and misery which it causes, how
ever great these may be, but rather the decadence of
character, the loss of soul, the gradual but certain defac
ing of the divine image. And Jesus came that man
might receive power to restore that which had been lost
through sin, to rebuild that which the arch-enemy had
thrown down.
Christian culture and progress have given to the world
many a noble pile of masonry : a St. Peter's in Rome, a
St. Paul's in London, a Cologne carthedral, a Westmin-
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THE TWO BUILDERS
ster Abbey, and the numberless temples and cathedrals
and churches that are found in every part of Christen
dom; but these with all their beauty and grandeur, with
all that they represent of labor and cost and consecra
tion, are not for a moment to be compared with those
infinitely nobler structures that adorn the landscape of
the ages, the characters of Christ's worthy followers, the
saints named and unnamed in every clime, who by doing
the words of Jesus at whatever cost of pain and sacri
fice have at last built the completed temple like the pat
tern shown them in the Mount.
The sayings of Jesus are the plans of the divine Archi
tect for the building of the perfect life. Our deeds are
the stones with which we build day by day the growing
structure of character. If these deeds are molded by the
teachings of Christ, if they faithfully reproduce the plan,
then will the character which we build be true and Christ
ly. It will be the expression of moral strength and sym
metry. It will be firm and immovable, and proof against
the storms of trial and temptation. If, on the other
hand, we see and admire the plan but fail to reproduce
it in our conduct, then, although we may for a time pre
sent a fair appearance to the world and may flatter our
selves that we are as good as others, the first storm of
trial will betray our weakness and overthrow the struc
ture which we have built.
This, I say, is the first and general message of the
builder; but there is a second element in the symbolism
of our parable. The word "house" suggests the specific
as well as the generic; it represents not a building
merely, but a home with all the hallowed associations,
the precious ideals, the blessed influences that are en
folded in that word.
Seen in this light, the house becomes the type of the
soul's eternal hope. It symbolizes all that is included in
that broad and often misused term "salvation." There
is the sense of security and assurance that all is well.
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
There is rest of soul, peace with God, and peace with
self. There is moral strength and spiritual equilibrium
that cannot be disturbed by the turmoil of the world.
There is also the hope of a yet brighter and more glorious
heaven in the future. "In my Father's house are many
mansions, . . . I go to prepare a place for you."
Between the mere "house" and the true "home" the
difference is heaven-wide. This difference is quite inde
pendent of the external appearance of the structure.
Some of our public institutions, our hotels, our asylums,
our retreats, yes, even many of our prisons are far more
elegant and costly structures than the cottages of the
poor; yet the meanest hut that embodies a true home is
unspeakably dearer to the souls that find refuge there
than is the most splendid pile of masonry that has no
further purpose than to furnish a center where a given
number of human beings may gather to eat and drink
and sleep and find protection from the inclemency of the
weather. Is not a like contrast easily drawn between the charac
ter that is fashioned upon the most perfect principles of
lifeless moral philosophy and the character that grows
out of a loving fellowship with Jesus Christ in the daily
life; between the righteousness which is of the law and
the righteousness which is by faith? Here is your
merely philosophical moralist who fashions his life by
certain maxims. "Honesty is the best policy," he says;
therefore he is honest. "Virtue is its own reward";
therefore he is virtuous. Now it may be that the char
acter thus constructed is noble and grand, but it is with
out joy, without vitality. There is no real peace, no per
manent blessing growing out of it. It is the soul's lodg
ing-place, but not its home. Let the proverbs prove
themselves apparently false, let the trusted principles fail
in some crisis, and instantly everything is swept away.
Over against this place the life of the humblest and
most imperfect disciple who lives the life of faith. To
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him every moral triumph is more than a fulfilment of
moral law, more than a block in the great temple of char
acter; it is the manifestation of love for the heavenly
Father, a strengthening of the family ties that bind to
gether God and his child, a source of personal happiness
for the present and a seed of hope for the eternal future.
"The Christian's Secret of a Happy Life" is indeed a
secret wholly unknown to the moral philosopher who
builds his character day by day in dogged obedience to
the lifeless principles of his science. Between mere
moral character, however perfect, and a true Christian
life and hope the distance is infinite. The one is a
spiritual prison-house, costly and grand it may be, but
still a prison, confining, repressing, galling the soul's
true life; the other the "home of the soul," free, rest
ful, joyous.
The ideas embodied in the words "house" and "home"
are easily distinguishable, but the facts for which those
words stand are never separable. True, you may have
a house without a home, but you can never have a home
without a house of some sort. Many of our noblest
specimens of architecture were built for purposes far
other than the furnishing of a home for man. Some
of the most costly mansions of the wealthy fail to satisfy
the craving of those who occupy them for homes. But
the home-spirit must have a permanent structure, though
it be the humblest, in which to take up its abode. The
tent of the wandering Arab, the teepee of the wild In
dian, the canvas^covered prairie-schooner of the emi
grant, none of these could by any possibility become the
seat of a true home. It is when man first builds a struc
ture that affords at least some slight shadow of perma
nence that the notion of home becomes possible. Then
and not till then does there spring up in the human life
that element of strength that makes for national stability
and continuance. From the tent of the nomad to the
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THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS
home in a fixed abode is a long stride in national life
and civilization.
Following the analogy thus suggested, we may dis
tinguish between character and salvation, but we can
never separate them. A certain moral character we may
have without eternal hope, but there can be no real hope
for time and for eternity that is not coupled with a Christ
like character. True peace and rest of soul, the hope
for eternity that cannot be shaken, dwell only in him
who is conscious of a glad obedience to the words of the
Master. Doubtless many men have cherished a hope for the
future, many have testified in glowing terms to their
high expectation, whose characters have been far from
Christly. (The writer of "Home, Sweet Home" was a
homeless wanderer.) Doubtless also many have attained
to a high degree of respectability, have justly earned
a glorious reputation for moral excellence, who have
cared nothing for God or for Jesus Christ. But how
often have they been swept away by some great flood
of temptation or trial ! A house may stand if it be not
too large upon the soft earth, so long as the sun shines
and all is fair. It is the storm that undermines and
overturns it. So the soul may cherish a delusive hope
and may rest in self-satisfied comfort so long as all goes
well, even though its hope be ill-founded. It is the storm
and stress of life that test the value of spiritual founda
tions. By these the false hope is swept away, the mis
taken confidence is undetermined and its weakness be
trayed. Here, then, we have the complete and perfect structure
of the spiritual building that cannot be shaken. Deep
and strong upon the rock Christ Jesus is laid the founda
tion of active obedience to his teachings. Upon this solid
base rises grand and symmetrical the structure of a true
Christian character, a saintly soul. This sanctified soul
becomes the abode of a hope that can never be destroyed,
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a hope that shall live through all vicissitudes of time,
and when time shall be no more shall blossom out into
the realized bliss of eternity.
"Unfading Hope ! when life's last embers burn,
When soul to soul and dust to dust return,
Heaven to thy charge resigns the awful hour!
O, then thy kingdom comes ! Immortal Power !
What though each spark of earth-born rapture fly,
The quivering lip, pale cheek, and closing eye !
Bright to the soul thy seraph hands convey
The morning dream of life's eternal day —
Then, then, the triumph and the trance begin,
And all the phcenix-spirit burns within."

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