{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_7351/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_7351","id":"gutenberg_7351","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7351","summary":null,"tags":["Bible -- Commentaries","Bible. Matthew IX-XXVIII -- Commentaries","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christianity"],"text":"Produced by Anne Folland, Charles Franks and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEXPOSITIONS OF HOLY SCRIPTURE\n\nALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.\n\n\nST. MATTHEW\n\n_Chaps. IX to XXVIII_\n\n\n\n\nEXPOSITIONS OF HOLY SCRIPTURE\n\nALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.\n\n\nST. MATTHEW\n\n_Chaps. IX to XVII_\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nCHRIST'S ENCOURAGEMENTS (Matt. ix. 2)\n\nSOUL-HEALING FIRST: BODY-HEALING SECOND (Matt. ix. 6)\n\nTHE CALL OF MATTHEW (Matt. ix. 9-17)\n\nTHE TOUCH OF FAITH AND THE TOUCH OF CHRIST (Matt. ix. 18-31)\n\nA CHRISTLIKE JUDGMENT OF MEN (MATT. ix. 36)\n\nTHE OBSCURE APOSTLES (Matt. x. 5)\n\nCHRIST'S CHARGE TO HIS HERALDS (Matt. x. 5-16)\n\nTHE WIDENED MISSION, ITS PERILS AND DEFENCES (Matt. x. 16-31)\n\nLIKE TEACHER, LIKE SCHOLAR (Matt x. 24, 25)\n\nTHE KING'S CHARGE TO HIS AMBASSADORS (Matt. x. 32-42)\n\nA LIFE LOST AND FOUND (Matt. x. 39)\n\nTHE GREATEST IN THE KINGDOM, AND THEIR REWARD (Matt. x. 41, 42)\n\nJOHN'S DOUBTS OF JESUS, AND JESUS' PRAISE OF JOHN  (Matt. xi. 2-15)\n\nTHE FRIEND OF PUBLICANS AND SINNERS (Matt. xi. 19)\n\nSODOM, CAPERNAUM, MANCHESTER (Matt. xi. 20)\n\nCHRIST'S STRANGE THANKSGIVING (Matt. xi. 25)\n\nTHE REST GIVER (Matt. xi. 28, 29)\n\nTHE PHARISEES' SABBATH AND CHRIST'S (Matt. xii. 1-14)\n\nAN ATTEMPT TO ACCOUNT FOR JESUS (Matt. xii. 24)\n\n'MAKE THE TREE GOOD' (Matt. xii. 33)\n\n'A GREATER THAN JONAS' (Matt. xii. 41)\n\n'A GREATER THAN SOLOMON' (Matt. xii. 42)\n\nFOUR SOWINGS AND ONE RIPENING (Matt. xiii. 1-9)\n\nEARS AND NO EARS (Matt. xiii. 9)\n\n'TO HIM THAT HATH SHALL BE GIVEN' (Matt. xiii. 12)\n\nSEEING AND BLIND (Matt. xiii. 13)\n\nMINGLED IN GROWTH, SEPARATED IN MATURITY (Matt. xiii. 24-30)\n\nLEAVEN (Matt. xiii. 33)\n\nTREASURE AND PEARL (Matt. xiii. 44-46)\n\nTHE MARTYRDOM OF JOHN (Matt. xiv. 1-12)\n\nTHE GRAVE OF THE DEAD JOHN AND THE GRAVE OF THE LIVING JESUS (Matt.\nxiv. 12; xxviii. 8)\n\nTHE FOOD OF THE WORLD (Matt. xiv. 19, 20)\n\nTHE KING'S HIGHWAY (Matt. xiv. 22-36)\n\nPETER ON THE WAVES (Matt. xiv. 28)\n\nTHB CRUMBS AND THE BREAD (Matt. xv. 21-31)\n\nTHE DIVINE CHRIST CONFESSED, THE SUFFERING CHRIST DENIED (Matt. xvi.\n13-28)\n\nCHRIST FORESEEING THE CROSS (Matt. xvi. 21)\n\nTHE KING IN HIS BEAUTY (Matt. xvii, 1-13)\n\nTHE SECRET OF POWER. (Matt. xvii. 19, 20)\n\nTHE COIN IN THE FISH'S MOUTH (Matt. xvii. 25, 26)\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S ENCOURAGEMENTS\n\n\n    'Son, be of good cheer.'--MATT. ix. 2.\n\nThis word of encouragement, which exhorts to both cheerfulness and\ncourage, is often upon Christ's lips. It is only once employed in\nthe Gospels by any other than He. If we throw together the various\ninstances in which He thus speaks, we may get a somewhat striking\nview of the hindrances to such a temper of bold, buoyant cheerfulness\nwhich the world presents, and of the means for securing it which\nChrist provides.\n\nBut before I consider these individually, let me point you to this\nthought, that such a disposition, facing the inevitable sorrows,\nevils, and toilsome tasks of life with glad and courageous buoyancy,\nis a Christian duty, and is a temper not merely to be longed for,\nbut consciously and definitely to be striven after.\n\nWe have a great deal more in our power, in the regulation of moods and\ntempers and dispositions, than we often are willing to acknowledge to\nourselves. Our 'low' times--when we fret and are dull, and all things\nseem wrapped in gloom, and we are ready to sit down and bewail ourselves,\nlike Job on his dunghill--are often quite as much the results of our\nown imperfect Christianity as the response of our feelings to external\ncircumstances. It is by no means an unnecessary reminder for us, who\nhave heavy tasks set us, which often seem too heavy, and are surrounded,\nas we all are, with crowding temptations to be bitter and melancholy\nand sad, that Christ commands us to be, and therefore we ought to be,\n'of good cheer.'\n\nAnother observation may be made as preliminary, and that is that\nJesus Christ never tells people to cheer up without giving them\nreason to do so. We shall see presently that in all cases where the\nwords occur they are immediately followed by words or deeds of His\nwhich hold forth something on which, if the hearer's faith lay hold,\ndarkness and gloom will fly like morning mists before the rising\nsun. The world comes to us and says, in the midst of our sorrows and\nour difficulties, 'Be of good cheer,' and says it in vain, and\ngenerally only rubs salt into the sore by saying it. Jesus Christ\nnever thus vainly preaches the duty of encouraging ourselves without\ngiving us ample reasons for the cheerfulness which He enjoins.\n\nWith these two remarks to begin with--that we ought to make it a\npart of our Christian discipline of ourselves to seek to cultivate a\ncontinuous and equable temperament of calm, courageous good cheer;\nand that Jesus Christ never commands such a temper without showing\ncause for our obedience--let us turn for a few moments to the\nvarious instances in which this expression falls from His lips.\n\nI. Now the first of them is this of my text, and from it we learn\nthis truth, that Christ's first contribution to our temper of\nequable, courageous cheerfulness is the assurance that all our sins\nare forgiven.\n\n'Son, be of good cheer,' said He to that poor palsied sufferer lying\nthere upon the little light bed in front of Him. He had been brought\nto Christ to be cured of his palsy. Our Lord seems to offer him a\nvery irrelevant blessing when, instead of the healing of his limbs,\nHe offers him the forgiveness of his sins. That was possibly not\nwhat he wanted most, certainly it was not what the friends who had\nbrought him wanted for him, but Jesus knew better than they what the\nman suffered most from and most needed to have cured. They would\nhave said 'Palsy.' He said, 'Yes! but palsy that comes from sin.'\nFor, no doubt, the sick man's disease was 'a sin of flesh avenged in\nkind,' and so Christ went to the fountain-head when He said, 'Thy\nsins be forgiven thee.' He therein implied, not only that the man\nwas longing for something more than his four kindly but ignorant\nbearers there knew, but also that the root of his disease was\nextirpated when his sins were forgiven.\n\nAnd so, in like manner, 'thus conscience doth make cowards of us\nall.' There is nothing that so drapes a soul with darkness as either\nthe consciousness of unforgiven sin or the want of consciousness of\nforgiven sin. There may be plenty of superficial cheerfulness. I\nknow that; and I know what the bitter wise man called it, 'the\ncrackling of thorns under the pot,' which, the more they crackle,\nthe faster they turn into powdery ash and lose all their warmth. For\nstable, deep, lifelong, reliable courage and cheerfulness, there\nmust be thorough work made with the black spot in the heart, and the\nblack lines in the history. And unless our comforters can come to us\nand say, 'Thy sins be forgiven thee,' they are only chattering\nnonsense, and singing songs to a heavy heart which will make an\neffervescence 'like vinegar on nitre,' when they say to us, 'Be of\ngood cheer.' How can I be glad if there lie coiled in my heart that\nconsciousness of alienation and disorder in my relations to God,\nwhich all men carry with them, though they overlay it and try to\nforget it? There is no basis for a peaceful gladness worthy of a man\nexcept that which digs deep down into the very secrets of the heart,\nand lays the first course of the building in the consciousness of\npardoned sin. 'Son, be of good cheer!' Lift up thy head. Face\nsmaller evils without discomposure, and with quietly throbbing\npulses, for the fountain of possible terrors and calamities is\nstanched and stayed with, 'Thy sins are forgiven thee.'\n\nSide by side with this first instance, illustrating the same general\nthought, though from a somewhat different point of view, I may put\nanother of the instances in which the same phrase was soothingly on our\nLord's lips. 'Daughter,' said He to the poor woman with the issue of\nblood, 'be of good cheer. Thy faith hath saved thee.' The consciousness\nof a living union with God through Christ by faith, which results in\nthe present possession of a real, though it may be a partial, salvation,\nis indispensable to the temper of equable cheerfulness of which I have\nbeen speaking. Apart from that consciousness, you may have plenty of\nexcitement, but no lasting calm. The contrast between the drugged and\neffervescent potion which the world gives as a cup of gladness, and the\npure tonic which Jesus Christ administers for the same purpose, is\ninfinite. He says to us, 'I forgive thy sins; by thy faith I save thee;\ngo in peace.' Then the burdened heart is freed from its oppression, and\nthe downcast face is lifted up, and all things around change, as when\nthe sunshine comes out on the wintry landscape, and the very snow\nsparkles into diamonds. So much, then, for the first of the instances\nof the use of this phrase.\n\nII. We now take a second. Jesus Christ ministers to us cheerful\ncourage because He manifests Himself to us as a Companion in the\nstorm (Matt. xiv. 27).\n\nThe narrative is very familiar to us, so that I need not enlarge\nupon it. You remember the scene--our Lord alone on the mountain in\nprayer, the darkness coming down upon the little boat, the storm\nrising as the darkness fell, the wind howling down the gorges of the\nmountains round the landlocked lake, the crew 'toiling in rowing,\nfor the wind was contrary.' And then, all at once, out of the\nmysterious obscurity beneath the shadow of the hills, Something is\nseen moving, and it comes nearer; and the waves become solid beneath\nthat light and noiseless foot, as steadily nearer He comes. Jesus\nChrist uses the billows as the pavement over which He approaches His\nservants, and the storms which beat on us are His occasion for\ndrawing very near. Then they think Him a spirit, and cry out with\nvoices that were heard amidst the howling of the tempest, and struck\nupon the ear of whomsoever told the Evangelist the story. They cry\nout with a shriek of terror--because Jesus Christ is coming to them\nin so strange a fashion! Have _we_ never shrieked and groaned,\nand passionately wept aloud for the same reason; and mistaken the\nLord of love and consolation for some grisly spectre? When He comes\nit is with the old word on His lips, 'Be of good cheer.'\n\n'Tell us not to be frightened when we see something stalking across\nthe waves in the darkness!' 'It is I'; surely that is enough. The\nCompanion in the storm is the Calmer of the terror. He who recognises\nJesus Christ as drawing near to his heart over wild billows may well\n'be of good cheer,' since the storm but brings his truest treasure\nto him.\n\n  'Well roars the storm to those who hear\n   A deeper Voice across the storm.'\n\nAnd He who, with unwetted foot, can tread on the wave, and with\nquiet voice heard above the shriek of the blast can say, 'It is I,'\nhas the right to say, 'Be of good cheer,' and never says it in vain\nto such as take Him into their lives however tempest-tossed, and\ninto their hearts however tremulous.\n\nIII. A third instance of the occurrence of this word of cheer\npresents Jesus as ministering cheerful courage to us by reason of\nHis being victor in the strife with the world (John xvi. 33).\n\n'In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I\nhave overcome the world.'\n\nOf course 'the world' which He overcame is the whole aggregate of\nthings and persons considered as separated from God, and as being\nthe great Antagonist and counter power to a holy life of obedience\nand filial devotion. At that last moment when, according to all\noutward seeming and the estimate of things which sense would make,\nHe was utterly and hopelessly and all but ignominiously beaten, He\nsays, 'I have overcome the world.' What! Thou! within four-and-twenty\nhours of Thy Cross? Is that victory? Yes! For he conquers the world\nwho uses all its opposition as well as its real good to help him,\nabsolutely and utterly, to do the will of God. And he is conquered\nby the world who lets it, by its glozing sweetnesses and flatteries,\nor by its knitted brows and frowning eyes and threatening hand,\nhinder him from the path of perfect consecration and entire conformity\nto the Father's will.\n\nChrist has conquered. What does that matter to us? Why, it matters\nthis, that we may have the Spirit of Jesus Christ in our hearts to\nmake us also victorious in the same fight. And whosoever will lay\nhis weakness on that strong arm, and open his emptiness to receive\nthe fulness of that victorious Spirit for the very spirit of his\nlife, will be 'more than conqueror through Him that loved us,' and\ncan front all the evils, dangers, threatenings, temptations of the\nworld, its heaped sweets and its frowning antagonisms, with the calm\nconfidence that none of them are able to daunt him; and that the\nVictor Lord will cover his head in the day of battle and deliver him\nfrom every evil work. 'Be of good cheer, for I have overcome the\nworld, and play your parts like men in the good fight of faith; for\nI am at your back, and will help you with Mine own strength.'\n\nIV. The last instance that I point to of the use of this phrase is\none in which it was spoken by Christ's voice from heaven (Acts\nxxiii. 11). It was the voice which was heard by the Apostle Paul\nafter he had been almost torn in pieces by the crowd in the Temple,\nand had been bestowed for security, by the half-contemptuous\nprotection of the Roman governor, in the castle, and was looking\nonward into a very doubtful future, not knowing how many hours'\npurchase his life might be worth. That same night the Lord appeared\nto him and said, 'Be of good cheer, Paul, for as thou hast testified\nof Me in Jerusalem, so must thou bear witness also at Rome.' That is\nto say, 'No man can touch you until I let him, and nobody shall touch\nyou until you have done your work and spoken out your testimony.\nJerusalem is a little sphere; Rome is a great one. The tools to the\nhand that can use them. The reward for work is more work, and work\nin a larger sphere. So cheer up! for I have much for you to do yet.'\n\nAnd the spirit of that encouragement may go with us all, breeding in\nus the quiet confidence that no matter who may thwart or hinder, no\nmatter what dangers or evils may seem to ring us round, the Master\nwho bids us 'Be of good cheer' will give us a charmed life, and\nnothing shall by any means hurt us until He says to us, 'Be of good\ncourage; for you have done your work; and now come and rest.' 'Wait\non the Lord. Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen thine\nheart; wait, I say, on the Lord.'\n\n\n\n\nSOUL-HEALING FIRST: BODY-HEALING SECOND\n\n\n    'That ye may know that the Son of Man hath power on\n    earth to forgive sins (then saith He to the sick of the\n    palsy), Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto thine\n    house.'--MATT. ix. 6.\n\nThe great example of our Lord's teaching in the Sermon on the Mount is\nfollowed, in this and the preceding chapter, by a similar collection\nof His works of healing. These are divided into three groups, each\nconsisting of three members. This miracle is the last of the second\ntriad, of which the other two members are the miraculous stilling\nof the tempest and the casting out of the demons from the men in the\ncountry of the Gergesenes.\n\nOne may discern a certain analogy in these three members of this\ncentral group. In all of them our Lord appears as the peace-bringer.\nBut the spheres are different. The calm which was breathed over the\nstormy lake is peace of a lower kind than that which filled the soul\nof the demoniacs when the power that made discord within had been\ncast out. Even that peace was lower in kind than that which brought\nsweet repose in the assurance of pardon to this poor paralytic.\nForgiveness speaks of a loftier blessing than even the casting out\nof demons. The manifestation of power and love steadily rises to a\nclimax.\n\nThe most important part of this story, then, is not the mere healing\nof the disease, but the forgiveness of sins which accompanies it.\nAnd the large teaching which our Lord gives as to the relation\nbetween His miracles and His standing work, His ordinary work which\nHe has been doing all through the ages, which He is doing to-day,\nwhich He is ready to do for you and me if we will let Him, towers\nhigh above the mere miracle, which is honoured by being the signal\nattestation of that work.\n\nTherefore I would turn to this story now, not for the sake of\ndealing with the mere miraculous event, but in order to draw the\nimportant lessons from it which lie upon its very surface.\n\nI. The first thought that is suggested here is that our deepest need\nis forgiveness.\n\nHow strangely irrelevant and beside the mark, at first sight, seems\nthe answer which Christ gives to the eager zeal and earnestness of\nthe man and his bearers. Christ's word is 'Son,' or as the original\nmight more literally and even more tenderly be rendered, 'Child--be\nof good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee.' That seemed far away from\ntheir want. It _was_ far from their wish, but yet it was the\nshortest road to its accomplishment. Christ here goes straight to\nthe heart of the necessity, when, passing by the disease for the\nmoment, He speaks the great word of pardon. The palsy was probably\nthe result of the sufferer's vice, and probably, too, he felt,\nwhatever may have been his friends' wishes for him, that he needed\nforgiveness most. Such a conclusion as to his state of mind seems a\nfair inference from our Lord's words to him, for Christ would never\nhave offered forgiveness to an impenitent or indifferent heart.\n\nSo we may learn that our chief and prime need is forgiveness. Amid\nall our clamours and hungry needs, that is our deepest. Is not a\nman's chief relation in this world his relation to God? Is not that\nthe most important thing about all of us? If that be wrong, will not\neverything be wrong? If that be right, will not everything come right?\nAnd is it not true that for you and me, and for all our fellows,\nwhatever be the surface diversities of character, civilisation,\nculture, taste and the like, there is one deep experience common to\nevery human spirit, and that is the fact, and in some sense more or\nless acutely the consciousness of the fact, that 'we have sinned,\nand come short of the glory of God'?\n\nThere is the fontal source of all sorrow, for even to the most\nsuperficial observation ninety per cent., at any rate, of man's\nmisery comes either from his own or from others' wrongdoing, and for\nthe rest, it is regarded in the eye of faith as being sorrow that is\nneedful because of sin, in order to discipline and to purify. But\nhere stands the fact, that king and clown, philosopher and fool, men\nof culture and men of ignorance, all of us, through all the ages,\nmanifest the unity of our nature in this--I was going to say most\nchiefly--that lapses from the path of rectitude, and indulgence in\nhabits, thoughts, feelings, and actions, which even our consciences\ntell us are wrong, characterise us all.\n\nHence the profound wisdom of Christ and of His Gospel in that, when\nit begins the task of healing, it does not peddle and potter on the\nsurface, but goes straight to the heart, with true instinct flies at\nthe head, like a wise physician pays little heed to secondary and\nunimportant symptoms, but grapples with the disease, makes the tree\ngood, and leaves the good tree to make, as it will, the fruit good.\n\nThe first thing to do to heal men's misery, is to make them pure; and\nthe first step in the great method by which a man can be made pure,\nis to assure him of a divine forgiveness for the past. So the sneers\nthat we often hear about Christian 'philanthropists taking tracts to\npeople when they want soup,' and the like, are excessively shallow\nsneers, and indicate nothing more than this, that the critic has\nsuperficially diagnosed the disease, and is wofully wrong about the\nremedy. God forbid that I should say one word that would seem to\ndepreciate the value of other forms of beneficence, or to cast doubt\nupon the purity of motives, or even to be lacking in admiration for the\nenthusiasm that fills and guides many an earnest man and woman, working\namongst the squalid vice of our great cities and of our complex and\nbarbarous civilisation to-day. I would recognise all their work as\ngood and blessed; but, oh! dear brethren, it deals with the surface,\nand you will have to go a great deal deeper down than \u00e6sthetic, or\nintellectual, or economical, or political reformation and changes\nreach, before you touch the real reason why men and women are\nmiserable in this world. And you will only effectually cure the\nmisery, but you certainly then will do it, when you begin where the\nmisery begins, and deal first with sin. The true 'saviour of society'\nis the man that can go to his brother, and as a minister declaratory\nof the divine heart can say--'Brother, be of good cheer; thy sins be\nforgiven thee.' And then, after that, the palsy will go out of his\nlimbs, and a new nervous energy will come into them, and he will\nrise, take up his bed, and walk.\n\nII. Now, in the next place, notice, as coming out of this incident\nbefore us, the thought that forgiveness is an exclusively divine\nact.\n\nThere was, sitting by, with their jealous and therefore blind eyes,\na whole crowd of wise men and religious formalists of the first\nwater, collected together as a kind of ecclesiastical inquisition\nand board of triers, as one of the other evangelists tells us, out\nof every corner of the land. They had no care for the dewy pity that\nwas in Christ's looks, or for the nascent hope that began to swim up\ninto the poor, dim eye of the paralytic. But they had keen scent for\nheresy, and so they fastened with true feline instinct upon the one\nthing, 'This man speaketh blasphemies. Who can forgive sins but God\nalone?'\n\nAh! if you want to get people blind as bats to the radiant beauty of\nsome lofty character, and insensible as rocks to the wants of a sad\nhumanity, commend me to your religious formalists, whose religion is\nmainly a bundle of red tape tied round men's limbs to keep them from\ngetting at things that they would like. These are the people who\nwill be as hard as the nether millstones, and utterly blind to all\nenthusiasm and to all goodness.\n\nBut yet these Pharisees are right; perfectly right. Forgiveness\n_is_ an exclusively divine act. Of course. For sin has to do\nwith God only; vice has to do with the laws of morality; crime has\nto do with the laws of the land. The same act may be vice, crime,\nand sin. In the one aspect it has to do with myself, in the other\nwith my fellows, in the last with God. And so evil considered as sin\ncomes under God's control only, and only He against whom it has been\ncommitted can forgive.\n\nWhat is forgiveness? The sweeping aside of penalties? the shutting\nup of some more or less material hell? By no means: penalties are\noften left; when sins are crimes they are generally left; when sins\nare vices they are always left, thank God! But in so far as sin is\nsin, considered as being the perversion and setting wrong of my\nrelation to Him, its consequences, which are its penalties, are\nswept away by forgiveness; for forgiveness, in its essence and\ndeepest meaning, is neither more nor less than that the love of the\nperson against whom the wrong has been done shall flow out,\nnotwithstanding the wrong. Pardon is love rising above the ice-dam\nwhich we have piled in its course, and pouring into our hearts.\n\nWhen you fathers and mothers forgive your children, what does it\nmean? Does it not mean that your love is neither deflected nor\nembittered any more, by reason of their wrongdoing, but pours upon\nthem as of old? So God's forgiveness is at bottom--'Child! there is\nnothing in my heart to thee, but pure and perfect love.' We fill the\nsky with mists, through which the sun itself has to look like a red\nball of lurid fire. But it shines on the upper side of the mists all\nthe same, and all the time, and thins them away and scatters them\nutterly, and shines forth in its own brightness on the rejoicing\nheart. Pardon is God's love, unchecked and unembittered, granted to\nthe wrongdoer. And that is a divine act, and a divine act alone.\nPharisees and Scribes were perfectly right. No man can forgive sins\nbut God only.\n\nAnd I might add, though it is somewhat aside from my direct purpose,\nGod _can_ forgive sin; which some people nowadays say is\nimpossible. The apparent impossibility arises only from shallow and\nerroneous notions of what forgiveness is. God does not--it might be\ntoo bold to say God cannot, if we believe in miracles--but as a\nmatter of fact, God does not, usually interfere to hinder men from\nreaping, as regards this life, what they have sown. But as I say,\nthat is not forgiveness; and is there any reason conceivable why it\nshould be impossible for the divine love to pour down upon a sinful\nman who has forsaken his sin, and is trusting in God's mercy in\nChrist, just as if his sin was non-existent, in so far as it could\ncondition or interfere with the flow of the divine mercy?\n\nAnd I may say, further, we need a definite divine assurance of pardon.\nAh! if you have ever been down into the cellars of your own hearts,\nand seen the ugly things that coil there, you will know that a vague\ntrust in a vague God and a vague mercy is not enough to still the\nconscience that has once been stung into action. My brothers, you\nwant neither priests nor ceremonies on the one hand, nor a mere\nperadventure of 'Oh! God is merciful!' on the other, in order to deal\nwith that deepest need of your heart. Nothing but the King's own\nsign-manual on the pardon makes it valid; and unless you and I can,\nsomehow or other, come to close grips with God, and get into actual\ncontact with Him, and hear, somehow, with infallible certitude, as\nfrom His own lips, the assurance of forgiveness, there is not enough\nfor our needs.\n\nIII. So I come to say, in the next place, that the incident before\nus teaches us that Jesus Christ claims and exercises this divine\nprerogative of forgiveness.\n\nMark His answer to these cavillers. He admits their promises absolutely.\nThey said, 'No man can forgive sins but God only.' If Christ was only a\nman, like us, standing in the same relation to the divine pardon that\nother teachers, saints, and prophets have stood, and had nothing more\nto do with it than simply, as I might do, to say to a troubled heart,\n'My brother, be quite sure that God has forgiven you'; if Christ's\nrelation to the divine forgiveness was nothing more than ministerial\nand declaratory, why, in the name, not of common sense only, but of\nveracity, did He not turn round to these men and say so? He was bound,\nby all the obligations of a religious teacher, to disclaim, as you or\nI would have done under similar circumstances, the misapprehension of\nHis words: 'I use blasphemies? No! I am not speaking blasphemies. I\nknow that God only can forgive sins, and I am doing no more than\ntelling my poor brother here that his sins are forgiven by God.' But\nthat is not His answer at all. What He says in effect is--'Yes; you are\nquite right. No man can forgive sins, but God only. _I_ forgive sins.\nWhom think ye, then, that I, the Son of Man am? It is easy to say \"Thy\nsins be forgiven thee\"--far easier to say that than to say \"Take up thy\nbed and walk,\" because one can verify and check the accomplishment of\nthe saying in the one case, and one cannot in the other. The sentences\nare equally easy to pronounce, the things are equally difficult for a\n_man_ to do, but the difference is that one of them can be verified\nand the other of them cannot. I will do the visible impossibility, and\nthen I leave you to judge whether I can do the invisible one or not.'\n\nNow, dear brethren, I have only one word to say about that, and it\nis this. We are here brought sharp up to a fork in the road. I know\nthat it is not always a satisfactory way of arguing to compel a man\nto take one horn or other of an alternative, but it is quite fair to\ndo go in the present case; and I would press it upon some of you\nwho, I think, urgently need to consider the dilemma. Either the\nPharisees were quite right, and Jesus Christ, the meek, the humble,\nthe Pattern of all lowly gentleness, the Teacher whom nineteen\ncenturies confess that they have not exhausted, was an audacious\nblasphemer, or He was God manifest in the flesh. The whole context\nforbids us to take these words, 'Thy sins be forgiven thee,' as\nanything less than the voice of divine love wiping out the man's\ntransgressions; and if Jesus Christ pretended or presumed to do\nthat, there is no hypothesis that I know of which can save His\ncharacter for the reverence of man, but that which sees in Him God\nrevealed in manhood; the world's Judge, from whom the world may\nreceive divine forgiveness.\n\nIV. Jesus Christ here brings visible facts into the witness-box as\nthe attesters of His invisible powers.\n\nOf course the miracle was such a witness in a special way, inasmuch as\nit and forgiveness were equally divine prerogatives and acts. I need\nnot dwell now upon what I have already observed in my introductory\nremarks, that our Lord here teaches us the relative importance of the\nattesting miracle and the thing attested, and regards the miracle as\nsubordinate to the higher and spiritual work of bringing pardon.\n\nBut we may widen out this into the thought that the subsidiary\neffects of Christian faith in individuals, and of the less complete\nChristian faith which is diffused over society, do stand as very\nstrong evidences of the reality of Christ's professions and claims\nto exercise this invisible power of pardon. Or, to put it into a\nconcrete form, and to take an illustration which may need large\ndeductions.--Go into a Salvation Army meeting. Admit the extravagance,\nthe coarseness, and all the rest which we educated and superfine\nChristians cannot stand. But when you have blown away the froth, is\nthere not something left in the cup which looks uncommonly like the\nwine of the Kingdom? Are there not visible results of that, as of\nevery earnest effort to carry the message of forgiveness to men,\nwhich create an immense presumption in favour of its reality and\ndivine origin? Men reclaimed, passions tamed, homes that were\npandemoniums made Bethels, houses of God. Wherever Christ's\nforgiving power really comes into a heart, life is beautified, is\npurified, is ennobled; and secondary and material benefits follow in\nthe train.\n\nI claim all the difference between Christendom and Heathendom as\nattestation of the reality of Christ's divine and atoning work. I\nsay, and I believe it to be a valid and a good argument as against\nmuch of the doubt of this day, 'If you seek His monument, look\naround.' His own answer to the question, 'Art thou He that should\ncome?' is valid still: 'Go and tell John the things that ye see and\nhear'; the dead are raised, the deaf ears are opened; faculties that\nlie dormant are quickened, and in a thousand ways the swift spirit\nof life flows from Him and vitalises the dead masses of humanity.\n\nLet any system of belief or of no belief do the like if it can. This\nrod has budded at any rate, let the magicians do the same with their\nenchantments.\n\nNow, Christian men and women, 'ye are My witnesses,' saith the Lord.\nThe world takes its notions of Christianity, and its belief in the\npower of Christianity, a great deal more from you than it does from\npreachers and apologists. _You_ are the Bibles that most men\nread. See to it that your lives represent worthily the redeeming and\nthe ennobling power of your Master.\n\nAnd as for the rest of you, do not waste your time trying to purify\nthe stream twenty miles down from the fountainhead, but go to the\nsource. Do not believe, brother, that your palsy, or your fever,\nyour paralysis of will towards good, or the unwholesome ardour with\nwhich you are impelled to wrong, and the consequent misery and\nrestlessness, can ever be healed until you go to Christ--the\nforgiving Christ--and let Him lay His hand upon you; and from His\nown sweet and infallible lips hear the word that shall come as a\ncharm through all your nature: 'Son, thy sins be forgiven thee.'\n'Then shall the eyes of the blind be opened; then shall the lame man\nleap as an hart';--then limitations, sorrows, miseries, will pass\naway, and forgiveness will bear fruit in joy and power, in holiness,\nhealth and peace.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CALL OF MATTHEW\n\n\n    'And as Jesus passed forth from thence, He saw a man,\n    named Matthew, sitting at the receipt of custom: and\n    He saith unto him, Follow Me. And he arose, and\n    followed Him. 10. And it came to pass, as Jesus sat at\n    meat in the house, behold, many publicans and sinners\n    came and sat down with Him and His disciples. 11. And\n    when the Pharisees saw it, they said unto His disciples,\n    Why eateth your Master with publicans and sinners?\n    12. But when Jesus heard that, He said unto them, They\n    that be whole need not a physician, but they that are\n    sick. 13. But go ye and learn what that meaneth, I will\n    have mercy, and not sacrifice: for I am not come to\n    call the righteous, but sinners to repentance. 14. Then\n    came to Him the disciples of John, saying, Why do we\n    and the Pharisees fast oft, but Thy disciples fast not?\n    15. And Jesus said unto them, Can the children of the\n    bridechamber mourn, as long as the bridegroom is with\n    them? but the days will come, when the bridegroom shall\n    be taken from them, and then shall they fast. 16. No\n    man putteth a piece of new cloth unto an old garment,\n    for that which is put in to fill it up taketh from the\n    garment, and the rent is made worse. 17. Neither do men\n    put new wine into old bottles: else the bottles break,\n    and the wine runneth out, and the bottles perish: but\n    they put new wine into new bottles, and both are\n    preserved.'--MATT. ix. 9-17.\n\nAll three evangelists connect the call of Matthew immediately with the\ncure of the paralytic, and follow it with an account of Christ's answers\nto sundry cavils from Pharisees and John's disciples. No doubt, the\nspectacle of this new Teacher taking a publican into His circle of\ndisciples, and, not content with such an outrage on all proper patriotic\nfeeling, following it up with scandalous companionship with the sort\nof people that a publican could get to accept his hospitality, sharpened\nhatred and made suspicion prick its ears. Mark and Luke call the\npublican Levi, he calls himself Matthew, the former being probably his\nname before his discipleship, the latter, that by which he was known\nthereafter. Possibly Jesus gave it him, as in the cases of Simon, and\nperhaps Bartholomew. But, however acquired, it superseded the old one,\nas the fact that it appears in the lists of the apostles in both the\nother evangelists and in Acts, shows. Its use here may be a trace of\na touching desire to make sure that readers, who only knew him as\nMatthew, should understand who this publican was. It is like the little\nlikenesses of themselves, in some corner of a background, that early\npainters used to slip into a picture of Madonna and angels. There was\nno vanity in the wish, for he says nothing about his sacrifices,\nleaving it to Luke to tell that 'he left all,' but he _does_\ncrave that his brethren, who read, should know that it was he whom\nJesus honoured by His call.\n\nThe condensed narrative emphasises three things, (1) his occupation\nwith his ordinary business when that wonderful summons thrilled his\nsoul; (2) the curt authoritative command, and (3) the swift obedience.\nAs to the first, Capernaum was on a great trade route, and the\ncustom-house officers there would have their hands full. This one was\nbusy at his work, hateful and shameful as it was in Jewish eyes, and\ninto that sordid atmosphere, like a flash of light into a mephitic\ncavern full of unclean creatures, came the transcendent mercy of\nJesus' summons. There is no region of life so foul, so mean, so\ndespicable in men's eyes, but that the quickening Voice will enter\nthere. We do not need to be in temples or about sacred tasks in order\nto hear it. It summons us in, and sometimes from, our daily work. Well\nfor those who know whose Voice it is, and do not mistake it for some\nEli's!\n\nNo doubt this was not the first of Matthew's knowledge of Jesus.\nLiving in Capernaum, he would have had many opportunities of hearing\nHim or of Him, and his heart and conscience may have been stirred.\nAs he sat in his 'tolbooth,' feeling contempt and hatred poured on\nhim, he, no doubt, had had longings to get nearer to the One whose\nvoice was gentle, and His looks, love. So the call would come to him\nas the fulfilment of a dim hope, and it would be a joyful surprise\nto know that Jesus wished to have him for a disciple as much as he\nwished to have Jesus for a Teacher. The ring of fire and hate within\nwhich he had been imprisoned was broken, and there was One who cared\nto have him, and who would not shrink from his touch. In the light\nof that assurance, the call became, not a summons to give anything\nup, but an invitation to receive a better possession than all with\nwhich he was called to part. And if we saw things as they are, would\nit not always be so to us? 'Follow Me' does mean, Forsake earth and\nself, but it means still more: Take what is more than all. It parts\nfrom these because it unites to Jesus. Therefore it means gain, not\ndeprivation. And it condenses all rules for life into one, for to\nfollow Him is the sum of all duty, and yields the perfect pattern of\nconduct and character, while it is also the secret of all blessedness,\nand the talisman that assures a man of continual progress. They who\nfollow are near, and will reach, Him. Of course, if His servants\nfollow Him, it stands to reason that one day, 'where I am there shall\nalso My servants be.' So in that command lie a sufficient guide for\nearth, and a sure guarantee for heaven.\n\n'And he arose and followed Him.' That is the only thing that we are\ntold of Matthew. We hear no more of him, except that he made a feast\nin his house on the occasion. No doubt he did his work as an apostle,\nbut oblivion has swallowed up all that. A happy fate to be known to all\nthe world for all time, only by this one thing, that he unconditionally,\nimmediately and joyfully obeyed Christ's call! He might have said: 'How\ncan I leave my work? I must make up my accounts, hand over my papers,\ndo a hundred things in order to wind up matters, and I must postpone\nfollowing till then.' But he sprang up at once. He would have abundant\nopportunities to settle all details afterwards, but if he let this\nopportunity of taking his place as a disciple pass, he might never\nhave another. There are some things that are best done gradually and\nslowly, but obedience to Christ's call is not one of them. Prompt\nobedience is the only safety. The psalmist knew the danger of delay\nwhen he said: 'I made haste and delayed not, but made haste to keep Thy\ncommandments.'\n\nMatthew does not tell us that _he_ made the feast, but Luke\ndoes. It was the natural expression of his thankfulness and joy for\nthe new bond. His knowledge was small, but his love was great. How\ncould he honour Jesus enough? But he was a pariah in Capernaum, and\nthe only guests he could assemble were, like himself, outcasts from\n'respectable society.' In popular estimation all publicans were\nregarded without any more ado as 'sinners,' but probably that\ndesignation is here applied to disreputable folks of various kinds\nand degrees of shadiness, who gravitated to Matthew and his class,\nbecause, like him, they were repulsed by every one else. Even\noutcasts hunger for society, and manage to get a community of their\nown, in which they find some glow of comradeship, and some defence\nfrom hatred and contempt. Even lepers herd together and have their\nown rules of intercourse.\n\nBut what a scandal in the eyes not only of Pharisees, but of all the\nproper people in Capernaum, Jesus' going to such a gathering of\ndisreputables would be, we may estimate if we remember that they did\nnot know His reason, but thought that He went because He liked the\natmosphere and the company. 'Like draws to like' was the conclusion\nsuggested, in the absence of His own explanation. The Pharisee\nconceived that his duty in regard to publicans and sinners was to keep\nas far from them as he could, and his strait-laced self-righteousness\nhad never dreamed of going to them with an open heart, and trying to\nwin them to a better life. Many so-called followers of Jesus still\ntake that attitude. They gather up their skirts round them daintily,\nand never think that it would be liker their Lord to sweep away the\nmud than to pick their steps through it, caring mainly to keep their\nown shoes clean.\n\nThe feast was probably spread in some courtyard or open space, to\nwhich, as is the Eastern custom, uninvited spectators could have\naccess. It is quite in accordance with the usage of the times and\nland that the Pharisees should have been onlookers, and should have\nbeen able to talk to the disciples. No doubt their colloquy became\nanimated, and perhaps loud, so that it could easily attract Christ's\nattention. He answered for Himself, and the tone of His reply is\nfriendly and explanatory, as if He recognised that the questioners\ngenuinely wished to know 'why' He was sitting in such company.\n\nIt discloses His motive, and thereby sweeps away all insinuations\nthat He consorted with sinners because their company was congenial.\nIt was precisely for the opposite reason, because He was so unlike\nthem. He came among these sinners as a physician; and who wonders at\n_his_ being beside the sick? He does not spend his days by\ntheir bedsides because he likes the atmosphere, but because it is\nhis business to make them well. Now, in that comparison, Jesus\npronounces no opinion on the correctness of the Pharisees' estimate\nof themselves as 'righteous,' or of publicans as sinners, but simply\ntakes them on their own ground. But He does make a great claim for\nHimself, and speaks out of His consciousness of power to heal men's\nworst disease, sin. It is a tremendous assertion to make of oneself,\nand its greatness is enhanced by the quiet way in which it is stated\nas a thought familiar to Himself. What right had He to pose as the\nphysician for humanity, and how can such a claim be reconciled with\nHis being 'meek and lowly in heart'? If He Himself was one of the\nsick and needed healing, how can He be the healer of the rest? If\nbeing a sinful man, as we all are, He made such a claim, what becomes\nof the reverence which is paid to Him as a great religious Teacher,\nand where has His 'sweet reasonableness' vanished?\n\nJesus passes from explanation of His personal relation to the\npublicans to adduce the broad principle which should shape the\nPharisees' relation to them, as it had shaped His. Hosea had said\nlong ago that God delighted more in 'mercy' than in 'sacrifice.'\nKindly helpfulness to men is better worship than exact performance\nof any ritual. Sacrifice propitiates God, but mercy imitates Him,\nand imitation is the perfection of divine service. Jesus here speaks\nas all the prophets had spoken, and smites with a deadly stroke the\nmechanical formalism which in every age stiffens religion into\nceremonies and neglects love towards God, expressed in mercy to men.\nHe lays bare the secret of His own life, and He thereby lays on His\nfollowers the obligation of making it the moving impulse of theirs.\n\nThe great general truth is followed, as it has been preceded, by a\nplain statement of Jesus' own conception of His mission in the\nworld. 'I came,' says He, hinting at the fact that He was before He\nwas born, and that His Incarnation was His voluntary act. True, He\nwas sent, and we speak of His mission, but also He 'came,' and we\nspeak of His advent. 'To repentance' is omitted by the best editors\nas being brought over from Luke, where it is genuine. But it is a\ncorrect gloss on the simple word 'call,' though 'repentance' is but\na small part of that to which He summons. He calls us to repent; He\ncalls us to Himself; He calls us to self-surrender; He calls us to\nEternal Life; He calls us to a better feast than Matthew had spread.\nBut we must recognise that we are sinners, or we shall never realise\nthat His invitation is for us, nor ever feel that we need a physician,\nand have in Him, and in Him alone, the Physician whom we need.\n\nThe Pharisees objected to Jesus' feasting, and could scarcely in the\nsame breath find fault with Him for not fasting, but they put\nforward some of John's disciples to bring that fresh objection.\nCommon hatred is a strong cement, and often holds opposites together\nfor a while. It was bad for John's followers that they should be\nwilling to say, 'We and the Pharisees.' They had travelled far from\nthe days when their master had called the same class a 'generation\nof vipers'! Their keen desire to uphold the honour of their teacher,\nwhose light they saw paling before the younger Jesus, made them\nhostile to Him, and, as is usually the case, the followers were more\npartisan than the leader. Religious antagonism sometimes stoops to\nvery strange alliances. The two questions brought together in this\ncontext are noticeably alike, and noticeably different. Both ask for\nthe reason of conduct which they do not go the length of impugning.\nThey seem to be desirous of enlightenment, they are really eager to\ncondemn. Both avoid seeming to call in question the acts of the\npersons addressed, for the Pharisees interrogate the _disciples_ as\nto the reason for _Jesus'_ conduct, while John's disciples ask\nfrom _Jesus_ the reason of His disciples' conduct. In both, mock\nrespectfulness covers lively hatred.\n\nOur Lord's first answer is as profound as it is beautiful, and\nveils, while it reveals, a lofty claim for Himself and a solemn\nforesight of His death, and lays down a great and fruitful principle\nas to the relations between spiritual moods and outward acts of\nreligion. His speaking of Himself as 'the Bridegroom' would recall\nto some of His questioners, and that with a touch of shame, John's\nnobly humble acceptance of the subordinate place of the bridegroom's\nfriend and elevation of Jesus to that of the bridegroom. But it was\nnot merely a rebuking quotation from John's witness, but the\nexpression of His own unclouded and continual consciousness of what\nHe was to humanity, and of what humanity could find in Him, as well\nas a sovereign appropriating to Himself of many prophetic strains.\nWhat depth of love, what mysterious blending of spirit, what adoring,\nlowly obedience, what perfection of protecting care, what rapture of\npossession, what rest of heart in trust, what dower of riches are\ndimly shadowed in that wonderful emblem, will never be known till\nthe hour of the marriage-supper of the Lamb, when 'His bride hath\nmade herself ready.' But across the light there flits a shadow. It\nis but for a moment, and it meant little to the hearers, but it meant\nmuch to Him. For He could not look forward to winning His bride\nwithout seeing the grim Cross, and even athwart the brightness of\nthe days of companionship with His humble friends, came the darkness\non His soul, though not on theirs, of the violent end when He 'shall\nbe taken from them.' The hint fell apparently on deaf ears, but it\nwitnesses to the continual presence in the mind of Jesus of His\nsufferings and death. The certainty that He must die was not forced\non Him by the failure of His efforts as His career unfolded itself.\nIt was no disappointment of bright earlier hopes, as is the case\nwith many a disillusionised reformer, who thought at the outset\nthat he had only to speak and all men would listen. It was the\nclearly discerned goal from the first. 'The Son of Man came ... to\ngive His life a ransom.'\n\nBut our Lord here lays down a broad principle, which, if applied as it\nwas meant to be, would lift a heavy burden of outward observance off\nthe Christian consciousness. Fast when you are sad; feast when you are\nglad. Let the disposition, the mood, the moment's circumstance, mould\nyour action. There is no virtue or sanctity in observances which do not\ncorrespond to the inner self. What a charter of liberty is proclaimed\nin these quiet words! What mountains of ceremonial unreality, oppressive\nto the spirit, are cast into the sea by them! How different Christendom\nwould have been and would be to-day, if Christians had learned the\nlesson of these words!\n\nThe two condensed parables or extended metaphors, which follow the\nvindication of the disciples, carry the matter further, and lay down\na principle which is intended to cover not only the question in\nhand, their non-observance of Jewish regulations as to fasting, but\nthe whole subject of the relations of the new word, which Jesus felt\nthat He brought, to the old system. The same consciousness of His\nunique mission which prompted His use of the term 'bridegroom,'\nshines through the two metaphors of the new cloth and the new wine.\nHe knows that He is about to bring a new garb to men, and to give\nthem new wine to drink, and He knows that what He brings is no mere\npatch on a worn-out system, but a new fermenting force, which\ndemands fresh vehicles and modes of expression. The two metaphors\ntake up different aspects of one thought. To try to mend an old coat\nwith a bit of unshrunk cloth would only make a worse dissolution of\ncontinuity, for as soon as a shower fell on it the patch would\nshrink, and, in shrinking, pull the thin pieces of the old garment\nadjoining it to itself. Judaism was already 'rent' and worn too thin\nto be capable of repair. The only thing to be done was 'as a\nvesture' to 'fold it up' and shape a new garment out of new cloth.\nWhat was true as to the supremely new thing which He brought into\nthe world remains true, in less eminent degree, of the less acute\ndifferences between the Old and the New, within Christianity itself.\nThere do come times when its externals become antiquated, worn thin\nand torn, and when patching is useless. Christian men, like others,\nconstitutionally incline to conservatism or to progress, and the one\ntemperament needs to be warned against obstinately preserving old\nclothes, and the other against eagerly insisting that they are past\nmending.\n\nBut a patch and a worn garment do not wholly describe the relations\nof the old and the new. Freshly made wine, still fermenting, and\nold, stiff wine-skins which have lost their elasticity suggest\nfurther thoughts. Now we have to do with containing vessel _versus_\ncontents, with a fermenting force _versus_ stiffened forms. To put\nthat into these will destroy both. For example, if the struggle of\nthe Judaisers in the early Church had succeeded, and Christianity\nhad become a Jewish sect, it would have dwindled to nothing, as the\nJewish-minded Christians did. The wine must have bottles. Every\ngreat spiritual renovating force must embody itself in institutions.\nSpiritual emotions must express themselves in acts of worship,\nspiritual convictions must speak in a creed. But the containing\nvessel must be congruous with, and still more, it must be created by,\nthe contained force, as there are creatures who frame their shells\nto fit the convolutions of their bodies, and build them up from their\nown substance. Forms are good, as long as they can stretch if need be;\nwhen they are too stiff to expand, they restrict rather than contain\nthe wine, and if short-sighted obstinacy insists on keeping _it_ in\n_them_, there will be a great spill and loss of much that is\nprecious.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TOUCH OF FAITH AND THE TOUCH OF CHRIST\n\n\n    'While He spake these things unto them, behold, there\n    came a certain ruler, and worshipped Him, saying, My\n    daughter is even now dead: but come and lay Thy hand\n    upon her, and she shall live. 19. And Jesus arose,\n    and followed him, and so did His disciples. 20. And,\n    behold, a woman, which was diseased with an issue of\n    blood twelve years, came behind Him, and touched the\n    hem of His garment: 21. For she said within herself,\n    If I may but touch His garment, I shall be whole.\n    22. But Jesus turned Him about, and when He saw her,\n    He said, Daughter, be of good comfort; thy faith hath\n    made thee whole. And the woman was made whole from\n    that hour. 23. And when Jesus came into the ruler's\n    house, and saw the minstrels and the people making a\n    noise. 24. He said unto them, Give place: for the maid\n    is not dead, but sleepeth. And they laughed Him to\n    scorn. 25. But when the people were put forth, He went\n    in, and took her by the hand, and the maid arose.\n    26. And the fame hereof went abroad into all that land.\n    27. And when Jesus departed thence, two blind men\n    followed Him, crying, and saying, Thou Son of David,\n    have mercy on us. 28. And when He was come into the\n    house, the blind men came to Him: and Jesus saith unto\n    them, Believe ye that I am able to do this? They said\n    unto Him, Yea, Lord. 29. Then touched He their eyes,\n    saying, According to your faith be it unto you. 30. And\n    their eyes were opened; and Jesus straitly charged them,\n    saying, See that no man know it. 31. But they, when they\n    were departed, spread abroad His fame in all that\n    country.'--MATT. ix. 18-31.\n\nThe three miracles included in the present section belong to the\nlast group of this series. Those of the second group were all\neffected by Christ's word. Those now to be considered are all\neffected by touch. The first two are intertwined. The narrative of\nthe healing of the woman is embedded in the account of the raising\nof Jairus's daughter.\n\nMark the impression of calm consciousness of power and leisurely\ndignity produced by Christ's having time to pause, even on such an\nerrand, in order to heal, by the way, the other sufferer. The father\nand the disciples would wonder at Him as He stayed His steps, and be\napt to feel that priceless moments were being lost; but He knows His\nown resources, and can afford to let the child die while He heals\nthe woman. The one shall receive no harm by the delay, and the other\nwill be blessed. Our Lord is sitting at the feast which Matthew gave\non the occasion of his call, engaged in vindicating His sharing in\ninnocent festivity against the cavils of the Pharisees, when the\nsummons to the death-bed comes to Him from the lips of the father,\nwho breaks in on the banquet with his imploring cry. Matthew gives\nthe story much more summarily than the other evangelists, and does\nnot distinguish, as they do, between Jairus's first words, 'at the\npoint of death, and the message of her actual decease, which met\nthem on the way. The call of sorrow always reaches Christ's ear, and\nthe cry for help is never deemed by Him an interruption. So this\n'man, gluttonous and a wine-bibber,' as these Pharisees thought Him,\nwillingly and at once leaves the house of feasting for that of\nmourning. How near together, in this awful life of ours, the two\nlie, and how thin the partition walls! Well for those whose feasts\ndo not bar them out from hearing the weeping next door.\n\nAs the crowd accompanies Jesus, His hasting love is, for a moment,\ndiverted by another sufferer. We never go on an errand of mercy but we\npass a hundred other sorrowing hearts, so close packed lie the griefs\nof men. This woman is a poor shrinking creature, broken down by long\nillness (which had lasted for the same length of time as the joyous\nlife of Jairus's child), made more timid by disappointed hopes of\ncure, and depressed by poverty to which her many doctors had brought\nher. She does not venture to stop this new Rabbi-physician, as He\ngoes with the church dignitary of the town to heal his daughter, but\nlets Him pass before she can make up her mind to go near Him; and\nthen she comes creeping up behind the crowd, puts out her wasted,\ntrembling hand to the hem of His garment,--and she is whole.\n\nThe other evangelists give us a more extended account, but Matthew\nthrows into prominence, in his condensed narrative, the essential\npoints.\n\nNotice her real but imperfect faith. There was unquestionable\nconfidence in Christ's power, and very genuine desire for healing.\nBut it was a very ignorant faith. She believes that her touch of the\ngarment will heal without Christ's will or knowledge, much more His\npitying love, having any part in it. She thinks that she may win her\ndesire furtively, and may carry it away, and He be none the wiser nor\nthe poorer for the stolen blessing. What utter, blank ignorance of His\ncharacter and way of working! What gross superstition! Yes, and withal\nwhat a hunger of desire, what absolute assurance of confidence that\none finger-tip on His robe was enough! Therefore she had her desire,\nand her Healer recognised her faith as true, though blended with much\nignorance of Him. Her error was very like that which many Christians\nentertain with less excuse. To attach importance to external means of\ngrace, rites, ordinances, sacraments, outward connection with Christian\norganisations, is the very same misconception in a slightly different\nform. Such error is always near us; it is especially rife in countries\nwhere there has long been a visible Church. It has received strange\nnew vigour to-day, partly by reaction from extreme rationalism, partly\nby the growing cultivation of the aesthetic faculties. It is threatening\nto corrupt the simplicity and spirituality of Christian worship, and\nneeds to be strenuously resisted. But the more we have to fight\nagainst it, the more do we need to remember that, along with this\nclinging to the hem of the garment instead of to the heart of its\nWearer, there may be a very real trust, which might shame some of\nthose who profess to hold a less sensuous form of faith. Many a poor\nsoul clasping a crucifix clings to the Cross. Many a devout heart\nkneeling at mass sees through the incense-smoke the face of Christ.\n\nThis woman's faith was selfish. She wanted health; she did not care\nmuch about the Healer. She would have been quite contented to have\nhad no more to do with Him, if she could only have stolen out of the\ncrowd cured. She would have had little gratitude to the unconscious\nGiver of a stolen good. So, many a Christian life in its earlier\nstages is more absorbed with its own deep misery and its desire for\ndeliverance, than with Him. Love comes after, born of the experience\nof His love. But faith precedes love, and the predominant motive\nimpelling to faith at first is distinctly self-regard. That is all as\nit should be. The most purely self-absorbed wish to escape from the\nmost rudely pictured hell is often the beginning of a true trust in\nChrist, which, in due time, will be elevated into perfect consecration.\nSome of our modern teachers, who are shocked at Christianity because\nit lays the foundation of the most self-denying morality in such\n'selfishness,' would be none the worse for going to school to this\nstory, and learning from it how a desire for nothing more than to\nget rid of a painful disease, started a process which turned a life\ninto a peaceful, thankful surrender of the cured self to the love\nand service of the mighty Healer.\n\nObserve, next, how Christ answers the imperfect faith, and, by\nanswering, corrects and confirms it. Matthew omits Christ's question\nas to who touched Him, the disciples' reply, and His renewed\nasseveration that He was conscious of power having gone forth from\nHim. All these belong to the loving method by which our Lord sought\nto draw forth an open acknowledgment. Womanly diffidence, enfeebled\nhealth, her special disease, all made the woman wish to hide herself.\nShe wanted to steal away unnoticed, as she hoped that she had come.\nBut Christ forces her to stand out before all the crowd, and there,\nwith all eyes upon her,--cold, cruel eyes, some of them--to conquer\nher shame, and tell all the truth. Strange kindness that; strangely\ncontrasted with His ordinary desire to avoid notoriety, and with His\nordinary tender consideration for shrinking weakness! He did it for\nher sake, not for His own. She is changed from timidity to courage.\nAt one moment she stretches out her wasted finger, a tremulous\ninvalid; at the next, she flings herself at His feet, a confessor.\nHe would have us testify for Him, because faith unavowed, like a\nplant in the dark, is apt to become pale and sickly; but ere He bids\nus own His name, He pours into our hearts, in answer to our secret\nappeal, the health of His own life, and the blissful consciousness\nof that great gift which makes the tongue of the dumb sing.\n\nHis words to her are full of tenderness. She receives the name of\n'daughter.' Gently He encourages her timidity by that 'Be of good\ncheer,' and then He sets right her error: 'Thy faith'--not thy\nfinger--'hath made thee whole.' There was no real connection between\nthe touch of the robe and healing; but the woman thought that there\nwas, and so Christ stooped to her childish thought, and allowed her\nto prescribe the road which His mercy should take. But He would not\nleave her with her error. The true means of contact between us and\nHim is not our outward contact with external means of grace, but the\ntouch of our spirits by faith. Faith is nothing in itself, and heals\nonly because it brings us into union with His power, which is the\nsole cause of our healing. Faith is the hand which receives the\nblessing. It may be a wasted and tremulous hand, like that which\nthis woman laid lightly on His robe. But He feels its touch, though\na universe presses on Him, and He answers. Not the garment's hem,\nbut Christ's love, is the cause of our salvation. Not an outward\ncontact with it or with Him, but faith, is the condition on which\nHis life, which knows no disease, pours into our souls. The hand of\nmy faith lifted to Him will receive into its empty palm and clasping\nfingers the special blessing for my special wants.\n\nThe other evangelists tell us that, at the moment of His words to\nthe woman, the messengers came bearing tidings of the child's death.\nHow Jairus must have grudged the pause! A word from Christ, like the\npressure of His hand, heartened him. Like a river turned from its\ncourse for a space, to fill some empty reservoir, His love comes\nback to its original direction. How abundant the power and mercy, to\nwhich such a work as that just done was but a parenthesis! The\ndoleful music and the shrill shrieks of Eastern mourning, which met\nthem as they entered Jairus's house, disturbed the sanctity of the\nhour, and were in strong contrast with the majestic calmness of\nJesus. Not amid venal lamentations and excited cries will He do His\nwork. He bids the noisy crowd forth with curt, almost stern, command,\nand therein rebukes all such hollow and tumultuous scenes, in the\npresence of the stillness of death, still more where faith in Him\nhas robbed it of its terror, in robbing it of its perpetuity. It is\nstrange that believing readers should have thought that our Lord meant\nto say that the little girl was not really dead, but only in a swoon.\nThe scornful laughter of the flute-players and hired mourners\nunderstood Him better. They knew that it was real death, as men\ncount death, and, as has often been the case, the laughter of His\nfoes has served to establish the truth. That was not worthy to be\ncalled death from which the child was so soon and easily to be\nawaked. But, besides this special application to the case in hand,\nthat great saying of our Lord's carries the blessed truth that,\nsince He has come, death is softened into sleep for all who love\nHim. The euphemism is not peculiar to Christianity, but has a deeper\nmeaning on Christian lips than when Greeks or Romans spoke of the\neternal sleep. Others speak of death by any name rather than its\nown, because they fear it so much. The Christian does so, because he\nfears it so little,--and, as a matter of fact, the use of the word\ndeath as meaning merely the separation of soul and body by the\nphysical act is exceptional in the New Testament. This name of\nsleep, sanctioned thus by Christ, is the sweetest of all. It speaks\nof the cessation of connection with the world of sense, and 'long\ndisquiet merged in rest.' It does not imply unconsciousness, for we\nare not unconscious when we sleep, but only unaware of externals. It\nholds the promise of waking when the sun comes. So it has driven out\nthe ugly old name. Our tears flow less bitterly when we think of our\ndear ones as 'sleeping in Jesus.' Their bodies, like this little\nchild's, are dead, but _they_ are not. They rest, conscious of\ntheir own blessedness and of Him 'in whom they live, and have their\nbeing,' whether they 'move' or no.\n\nThen comes the great deed. The crowd is shut out. For such a work\nsilence is befitting. The father and mother, with His foremost three\ndisciples, go with Him into the chamber. There is no effort, repeated\nand gradually successful, as when Elisha raised the dead boy; no\npraying, as when Peter raised Dorcas; only the touch of the hand in\nwhich life throbbed in fulness, and, as the other narratives record,\ntwo words, spoken strangely to, and yet more strangely heard by, the\ndull, cold ear of death. Their echo lingered long with Peter, and\nMark gives us them in the original Aramaic. But Matthew passes them\nby, as he seems here to have desired to emphasise the power of\nChrist's touch. But touch or word, the real cause of the miracle\nwas simply His will; and whether He used media to help men's faith,\nor said only 'I will,' mattered little. He varied His methods as the\ncircumstances of the recipients required, and in order that they and\nwe might learn that He was tied to none. These miracles of raising\nthe dead are three in number. Jairus's daughter is raised from her\nbed, just having passed away; the widow's son at Nain from his bier,\nhaving been for a little longer separated from his body; Lazarus\nfrom the grave, having been dead four days. A few minutes, or days,\nor four thousand years, are one to His power. These three are in\nsome sense the first-fruits of the great harvest; the stars that\nshone out singly before all the heaven is in a blaze. For, though\nthey died again, and so left to Him the precedence in resurrection,\nas in all besides, they are still prophetic of His power in the hour\nwhen they 'that sleep in the dust' shall awake at His voice. Blessed\nthey who, like this little maiden, are awakened, not only by His\nvoice, but by His touch, and to find, as she did, their hand in His!\n\nThe third of these miracles, which Matthew seems to reckon as the\nsecond in the group, because he treats the two former as so closely\nconnected as to be but one in numeration, need not detain us long.\nIt is found only in this Gospel. The first point to be observed in it\nis the cry of these two blind men. There is something pathetic and\nexquisitely natural in the two being together, as is also the case in\nthe similar miracle, at a later period, on the outskirts of Jericho.\nEqual sorrows drive men together for such poor help and solace as\nthey can give each other. They have common experiences which isolate\nthem from others, and they creep close for warmth and companionship.\nAll the blind men in the Gospels have certain resemblances. One is\nthat they are all sturdily persevering, as perhaps was easier for\nthem because they could not see the impatience of the listeners, and\npossibly because, in most cases, persistent begging was their trade,\nand they were used to refusals. But a more important trait is their\nrecognition of Jesus as 'Son of David.' Blind as they are, they see\nmore than do the seeing. Thrown in upon themselves, they may have\nbeen led to ponder the old words, and by their affliction been made\nmore ready to welcome One who, if He were Messiah, was coming with a\nspecial blessing for them--'to open the blind eyes.' Men who deeply\ndesire a good are quick to listen to the promise of its accomplishment.\nSo these two followed Him along the road, loudly and perseveringly\ncalling out their profession of faith, and their entreaty for sight.\n\nThe next point is our Lord's treatment. He let them cry on, apparently\n unheeding. Had, then, the two miracles just done exhausted His stock\nof power or of pity? Certainly His reason was, as it always was, their\ngood. We do not know why it was better for them to have to wait, and\ncontinue their entreaty; but we may be quite sure that the reason for\nall His delays is the same,--the larger blessing which comes with the\nanswer when it comes, and the large blessings which may be gathered\nwhile we wait its coming. Christ's question to them, when at last\nthey have found their way even indoors, holds out more hope than they\nhad yet received. By it, Christ established a close relation with them,\nand implied to them that He was willing to answer their cry. One can\nfancy how the poor blind faces would light up with a flush of eager\nexpectation, and how swift would be the answer. The question is not\ncold or inquisitorial. It is more than half a promise, and a powerful\naid to the faith which it requires.\n\nThere is something very beautiful and pathetic in the simple brevity\nof the unhesitating answer, 'Yea, Lord.' Sincerity needs few words.\nFaith can put an infinite deal of meaning into a monosyllable. Their\neagerness to reach the goal made their answer brief. But it was\nenough. Again the hand which had clasped the maiden's palm is put\nout and laid gently on the useless eyes, and the great word spoken,\n'According to your faith be it unto you.' Their blindness made the\ntouch peculiarly fitting in their case, as bringing evidence of\nsense to those who could not see the gracious pity of His looks. The\nword spoken was, like that to the centurion, a declaration of the\npower of faith, which determines the measure, and often the manner,\nof His gifts to us. The containing vessel not only settles the\nquantity of, but the shape assumed by, the water which is taken up\nin it from the sea. Faith, which keeps inside of Christ's promises\n(and what goes outside of them is not faith), decides how much of\nChrist we shall have for our very own. He condescends to run the\nmolten gold of His mercies into the moulds which our faith prepares.\n\nThese two men, who had used their tongues so well in their persistent\ncry for healing, went away to make a worse use of them in telling\neverywhere of their cure. Jesus desired silence. Possibly He did\nnot wish His reputation as a mere worker of miracles to be spread\nabroad. In all His earlier ministry He avoided publicity, singularly\ncontrasting therein with the evident desire to make Himself the\ncentre of observation which marks its close. He dreaded the smoky\nflame of popular excitement. His message was to individuals, not to\ncrowds. It was a natural impulse to tell the benefits these two had\nreceived; but truer gratitude and deeper faith would have made them\nobey His lightest word, and have shut their mouths. We honour Christ\nmost, not by taking our way of honouring Him, but by absolute obedience.\n\nThe final miracle of the nine (or ten) marshalled in long procession\nin chapters viii. and ix. is told with singular brevity. There is\nnothing individual in our Lord's treatment of the sufferer, as there\nwas in the previous healing of the two blind men, and no details are\ngiven of either the appeal to His pity or the method of His cure.\nThe dumb demoniac could lift no cry, nor exercise any faith, and all\nthe petitions and hopes of his bearers were expressed in the act of\nbringing the sufferer thither, and silently setting him there before\nthese eyes of universal pity. It was enough. With Jesus, to see was\nto compassionate, and to compassionate was to help. In the other\ninstances of casting out demons, the method is an authoritative\ncommand, addressed not to the possessed, but to the alien personality\nthat has seized on him, and we conclude that such was the method\nhere. Jesus undoubtedly believed in demoniacal possession, if we can\nat all rely on the Gospel narratives; and it may be humbly suggested\nthat there are dark depths in humanity, which had need to be fathomed\nmore completely, before any one is warranted in dogmatically\npronouncing that He was wrong in His diagnosis. There are ugly facts\nwhich should give pause to those who are inclined to say--'There are\nno demons, and if there were, they could not dominate a human\nconsciousness.'\n\nBut the effects of the miracle are emphasised more than itself. They\nare two, neither of them what might or should have been. The dumb\nman is not said to have used his recovered speech to thank his\ndeliverer, nor is there any sign that he clung to Him, either for\nfear of being captured again or in passionate gratitude. It looks as\nif he selfishly bore away his blessing and cared nothing for its\ngiver. That is very human, and we all are too often guilty of the\nsame sin. Nor was the effect on the multitudes much better, for they\nwere only struck with vulgar wonder, which had no moral quality in\nit and led to nothing. They saw 'the miracle,' that is, the\nwonderfulness of the act made some dint even on their minds, but\nthese were either too fluid to retain the impression, or too hard to\nlet it be deep, and so it soon filled up again. We have to think of\nChrist's deeds as 'signs,' not only as 'wonders,' or they will do\nlittle to draw us to Him. Wonder is a necessarily evanescent\nemotion, which may indeed set something better stirring in us, but\nis quite as likely to die barren.\n\nThe Pharisees did not wonder, and did look into the phenomenon with\nsharp eyes; and in so far, they were in advance of the gaping\nmultitudes. They were much too superior persons to be astonished at\nanything, and they had already settled on a formula which was\ndelightfully easy of application, and had the further advantage of\nturning the miracles into evidences that the doer of them was a\nchild of the Devil. It appears to have been a well-worked formula\ntoo, for it is found again in chap. xii. 24, and in Luke xi. 15, in\nthe account of another cure of a dumb demoniac. It is possible that\nthe incident now before us may be the same as this, but there is\nnothing improbable in the occurrence of such a case twice, nor in\nthe repetition of what had become the commonplace of the Pharisaic\npolemic. But what a piercing example that explanation is of the\nblinding power of prejudice, determined to hold on to a foregone\nconclusion, and not to see the sun at noon! Jesus in league with\n'the prince of the devils'! And that was gravely said by religious\nauthorities! They saw the loveliness of His perfect life, His gentle\ngoodness, His self-forgetting love, His swift-springing pity, and\nthey set it all down to His commerce with the Evil One. He was so\ngood that He must be more than humanly bad.\n\n\n\n\nA CHRISTLIKE JUDGMENT OF MEN\n\n\n    'But when He saw the multitudes, He was moved with\n    compassion on them, because they fainted, and were\n    scattered abroad, as sheep having no shepherd.'\n    --MATT. ix. 36.\n\nIn the course of our Lord's wandering life of teaching and healing,\nthere had naturally gathered around Him a large number of persons who\nfollowed Him from place to place, and we have here cast into a symbol\nthe impression produced upon Him by their outward condition. That is\nto say, He sees them lying there weary, and footsore, and travel-stained.\nThey have flung themselves down by the wayside. There is no leader or\nguide, no Joshua or director to order their march; they are a worn-out,\ntired, unregulated mob, and the sight smites upon His eye, and it\nsmites upon His heart. He says to Himself, if I may venture to put\nwords into His lips, 'There are a worse weariness, and a worse wandering,\nand a worse anarchy, and a worse disorder afflicting men than that poor\nmob of tired pedestrians shows.' Matthew, who was always fond of showing\nthe links and connections between the Old Testament and the New, casts\nour Lord's impression of what He then saw into language borrowed from\nthe prophecy of Ezekiel (ch. xxxiv.), which tells of a flock that is\nscattered in a dark and cloudy day, that is broken, and torn, and\ndriven away. I venture to see in the text three points: (1) Christ\nteaching us how to look at men; (2) Christ teaching us how to feel at\nsuch a sight; and (3) Christ teaching us what to do with the feeling.\n'When He saw the multitude, He was moved with compassion, because they\nfainted and were scattered abroad.' 'Then He said unto His disciples,\nthe harvest is plenteous, the labourers are few, pray ye the Lord of\nthe harvest to send forth labourers unto the harvest.' And then there\nfollows, 'And when He had called unto Him His twelve disciples, He gave\nthem power against unclean spirits to cast them out.' There are, then,\nthese three points;--just a word or two about each of them.\n\nI. Here we have our Lord teaching us how to look at men.\n\nThe picture of my text is, of course, in its broad outlines, very\nclear and intelligible, but there may be a little difficulty as to\nthe precise force of the language. The obscurity of it is in some\ndegree reflected in the margin of our Bibles; so, perhaps, you will\npermit one word of an expository nature. The description of the\nflock, 'Because they fainted and were scattered abroad,' is couched\nin the original in a couple of words, one of which means properly\n'torn' or 'fainting,' according as one or other of two readings of\nthe text is adopted, and the other means 'lying down.' Now, the\nformer of these gives a very pathetic picture if we apply it to the\nindividuals that made up the flock. We have then the image of the\npoor sheep that has lost its way, struggling through briars and\nthorns, getting out of them with its fleece all torn and hanging in\nstrips dangling at its heels, or of it as lacerated by the beasts of\nthe field to whom it is a prey. If we take the metaphor, as seems\nmore probably to be intended, as applying not so much to the\nindividuals as to the flock, then it comes to mean 'torn asunder,'\n'thrown apart,' and gives us the notion of anarchic confusion into\nwhich the flock comes if there be no shepherd to lead it. Then the\nother word, which our Bible translates 'were scattered abroad,'\nseems to mean more properly 'lying down,' and it gives the idea of\nthe poor, wearied creature, after all its struggles and wanderings,\nutterly beaten and dejected, having lost its way, at its wits' end\nand resourceless, flinging itself down there in despair, and panting\nits timid life out anywhere where it finds itself. So it comes to be\na picture of the utter weariness and hopelessness of all men's\nefforts apart from that Guide and Shepherd, who alone can lead them\nin the way. And then both of these miserable states, the laceration\nif you take the one explanation, the disintegration and casting\napart if you take the other, the weariness and exhaustion, are\ntraced to their source, they are 'as sheep having no shepherd.' He\nhas gone, and so all this comes. With this explanation we may take\nthe points of view that are thus suggested simply as they lie before\nus.\n\nFirst of all, notice how here, as always to Jesus Christ, the\noutward was nothing, except as a symbol and manifestation of the\ninward; how the thing that He saw in a man was not the external\naccidents of circumstance or position, for His true, clear gaze and\nHis loving, wise heart went straight to the essence of the matter,\nand dealt with the man not according to what he might happen to be\nin the categories of earth, but to what he was in the categories of\nheaven. All the same to Him whether it was some poor harlot, or a\nrabbi; all the same to Him whether it was Pilate on the judgment-seat,\nor the penitent thief hanging at His side. These gauds and shows were\nnothing; sheer away He cut them all, and went down to the hidden heart\nof the man, and He allocated and ranged them according to that.\nChristian men and women, do you try to do the same thing, and to get\nrid of all these superficial veils and curtains with which we drape\nourselves and attitudinise in the world, and to see men as Christ saw\nthem, both in regard to your judgment of them, and in regard to your\njudgment of yourselves? 'I am a scholar and a wise man; a great thinker;\na rich merchant; a man of rising importance and influence.' Very well;\nwhat does that matter? 'I am ignorant or a pauper'; be it so. Let us\nget below all that. The one question worth asking and worth answering\nis, 'How am I affected towards Him?' There are many temporary and\nlocal principles of arrangement and order among men; but they will\nall vanish some day, and there will be one regulating and arranging\nprinciple, and it is this: 'Do I love God in Jesus Christ, or do I\nnot?' Oh! for myself, for yourself, and for all our outlook towards\nothers, let us not forget that the inmost, deepest, hidden man of the\nheart is the man, and that all else is naught, and that its whole\ncharacter is absolutely determined by its relation to Jesus Christ.\n\nBut this is somewhat aside from my main purpose, which is rather\nbriefly to expand the various phases which, as I have already\nsuggested, are included in such an emblem. The first of them is\nthis: Try to think for yourselves of the condition of humanity as\napart from Christ--shepherdless. That old metaphor of a shepherd\nwhich comes out of the Old Testament is there sometimes used to\nindicate a prophet, and sometimes to indicate a king. I suppose we\nmay put both of these uses together, as far as our present purposes\nare concerned; and this is what I want to insist upon. I dare say\nsome people here will think it is very old-fashioned, very narrow in\nthese broad and liberal days; but what I would say is this, that\nunless Jesus Christ is both Guide and Teacher, we have neither guide\nnor teacher but are shepherdless without Him. There are plenty of\nrulers. There was no lack of other authority in the days of His\nflesh. There were crowds of rabbis, guides, and directors. The life\nof the nation was throttled by the authorities that had planted\nthemselves upon its back, and yet Christ saw that there were none of\nthose who were fit for the work, or afforded the adequate guidance.\nAnd so it is, now and always. There have been hosts of men who have\nsought to impose their authority upon an era. Where is there one\nthat has swayed passion, that has ruled hearts, that has impressed\nhis own image on the will, that has made obedience an honour, and\nabsolute, abject devotion to his command a very patent of nobility?\nHere, and nowhere beside. Besides that Christ there is no ruler\namongst men who can come to them and say to his servant, 'Go,' and\nhe goeth, and to this man, 'Do this,' and he doeth it. Obedience to\nany besides is treason against the dignity of our own nature;\ndisobedience to Him is both treason against our nature and blasphemy\nagainst God. 'Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ, Thou art the\neverlasting Son of the Father.' _There_ is the deepest reason\nfor His rule.\n\nAnd as for 'teacher,' whom are we to put up beside Him? Is it to be\nthese dim figures of religious reformers that are gliding,\nghostlike, to their doom, being wrapped round and round about by\never thicker and thicker folds of the inevitable oblivion that\nswallows all that is human? Brethren, by common consent it is Christ\nor nobody. Aaron dies upon Hor; Moses dies upon Pisgah; the\nteachers, the leaders, the guides, the under-shepherds, pass away\none by one; and if this Christ be but a Man and a Teacher, He too\nwill pass away. Shall I be thought very blind to the signs of the\ntimes if I say that I see no sign of His dominion being exhausted,\nof His influence being diminished, of His guidance being capable of\nbeing dispensed with? You may say, 'Oh, we do not want any teacher\nor guide; we do not want a shepherd.' I am not going to enter upon\nthat question now at all, except just to say this, that the instincts\nof humanity rise up in contradiction, as it seems to me, of that cold\nand cheerless creed, and that we have this fact staring us in the\nface, that men are made capable of a devotion and submission the\nmost passionate, the most absolute, the most mighty force in their\nlives, to human guides and ensamples, and that it is all wasted unless\nthere be somewhere a Man, our Brother, who shall come to us and say,\n'All that ever went before Me are thieves and robbers; I am the Good\nShepherd; follow Me, and ye shall not walk in darkness,' 'He saw the\nmultitudes as sheep having no shepherd.'\n\nStill further, take that other phase of the metaphor which, as I\nsuggested, the text includes, namely, the idea of disintegration,\nthe rending apart of social ties and union, unless there be the\ncentre of unity in the shepherd of the flock. 'I will smite the\nshepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered,' says the old prophecy.\nOf course, for what is there to hold them together unless it be\ntheir guide and their director? So we are brought face to face with\nthis plain prosaic rendering of the metaphor--that but for the centre\nof unity provided for mankind in the person and work of Jesus Christ,\nthere is no satisfaction of the deep hunger for unity and society\nwith which in that case God would have cursed mankind. For whilst\nthere are many other bonds most true, most blessed, God-given, and\nmighty, such as that of the sacred unity of the family, and that of\nthe nation and many others of which we need not speak, yet all these\nare constantly being disintegrated by the unresting waves of that\ngnawing sea of selfishness, if I may so say, which, like the waters\nupon our eastern coasts, eats and eats for ever at the base of the\ncliffs, so that society in all its forms, whether it be built upon\nidentity of opinion, which is perhaps the shabbiest bond of all, or\nwhether it be built upon purposes of mutual action, which is a great\ndeal better, or whether it be built upon hatred of other people,\nwhich is the modern form of patriotism, or whether it be built upon\nthe domestic affections, which are the purest and highest of all--all\nthe other bonds of society, such as creeds, schools, nations,\nassociations, leagues, families, denominations, all go sooner or\nlater. The base is eaten out of them, because every man that belongs\nto them has in him that tyrannous, dominant self, which is ever\nseeking to assert its own supremacy. Here is Babel, with its\nhalf-finished tower, built on slime; and there is Pentecost, with\nits great Spirit; here is the confusion, there is the unifying; here\nthe disintegration, there the power that draws them all together.\n'They were scattered abroad as sheep having no shepherd,' and one\nlooks out over the world and sees great tracts of country and long\ndismal generations of time, in which the very thought of unity and\ncharity and human bonds knitting men together has faded from the\nconsciousness of the race, and then one turns to blessed, sweet,\nsimple words that say, 'there shall be one flock and one shepherd,'\nand 'I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto Me.'\nDrawing thus, He will draw them into the eternal, mighty bond of\nunion that shall never be broken, and is all the more precious and\nall the more true because it is not a unity like the vulgar unities\nthat express themselves in external associations. You know, of\ncourse or if you do not know it will be a good thing that you should\nknow, that that verse in John's Gospel which I have quoted has been\nterribly mangled by a little slip of our translators. Christ said,\n'Other sheep I must bring which are not of this fold,' the fold\nbeing the external unity of the Jewish church--an enclosure made of\nhurdles that you can stick in the ground. 'I shall bring them,' says\nHe, 'and there shall be one'--(not, as our Bible says, 'fold,'--but\nsomething far better)--'there shall be one flock'; which becomes a\nunity not by wattling round about it on the outside, but by a\nshepherd standing in the middle. 'There shall be one flock and one\nshepherd'--a unity which is neither the destruction of the variety of\nthe churches, nor the crushing of men, nationalities, and types of\ncharacter all down into one dead level beneath the heel of a conqueror,\nbut the unity which subsists in the many operations of the one Spirit,\nand is expressed by all the forms of the one inspired grace.\n\nThen passing by altogether the other idea which I said was only\ndoubtfully suggested by the words--namely, that of laceration and\nwounding--let me say a word about the last of the aspects of\nhumanity when Christless, which is set forth in this text, and that\nis, the dejected weariness arising from the fruitless wanderings\nwherewith men are cursed. As a verse in the Book of Proverbs puts\nit, 'The labour of the foolish wearieth every one of them, because\nthey know not how to go to the city.' Putting aside the metaphor,\nthe plain truth which it embodies is just this, that there is in all\nmen's souls a deep longing after peace and rest, after goodness and\nbeauty and truth, and that all the strenuous efforts to satisfy\nthese longings, either by social reforms or by individual culture\nand discipline, are pathetically vain and profitless, because there\nis none to guide them. The sheep go wandering in any direction, and\nwith no goal; and wherever one has jumped, a dozen others will go\nafter him, and so they are wearied out long before the day's journey\nis ended, and they never reach the goal. Put that into less vivid,\nand, therefore, as people generally suppose, more accurate,\nlanguage, and it is a statement of the universal law of human\nhistory that, after any epoch of great aspirations and strong\nexcitement of the noblest parts of human nature, there has always\ncome a reaction of corruption and a collapse from weariness. What\ndid 'Liberty, Equality, Fraternity' end in? A guillotine. What do\nall similar epochs end in, when they do not take the Christ to march\nahead of them? An utter disgust and disillusion, and a despair of\nall progress. That is why wild revolutionists in their youth are\nalways obstinate Conservatives in their old age. The wandering sheep\nare footsore, and they fling themselves down by the wayside. That is\nwhy heathenism presents to us the aspect that it does. There is\nnothing about it that seems to me more tragical than the weary\nlanguor that besets it. Do you ever think of the depth of pathetic,\ntragic meaning that there is in that verse in one of the Psalms,\n'Such as sit in darkness and in the shadow of death'? There they\nsit, because there is no hope in rising and moving. They would have\nto grope if they arose, and so with folded hands they sit like the\nBuddha, which one great section of heathenism has taken as being the\ntrue emblem and ideal of the noblest life. Absolute passivity lays\nhold upon them all--torpor, stagnation, no dream of advance or\nprogress. The sheep are dejected, despairing, anarchic, disintegrated,\nlacerated, guideless, and shepherdless--away from Christ. So He\nthought them. God give you and me grace, dear brethren, to see, as\nChrist saw, the condition of humanity and our own apart from Him.\n\nII. And now let me say a word in the next place as to the second\nmovement of His mind and heart here. He teaches us not only how to\nthink of men, but how that sight should touch us.\n\n'He was moved with compassion on them when He saw the multitude'--with\nthe eye of a god, I was going to say, and the heart of a man. Pity\nbelongs to the idea of divinity; compassion belongs to the idea of\ndivinity incarnate; and the motion that passed across His heart is the\nmotion that I would seek may pass, with its sweet and healing breath,\nacross yours and mine. The right emotion for a Christian looking on\nthe Christless crowds is pity, not aversion; pity, not anger; pity, not\ncuriosity; pity, not indifference. How many of us walk the streets of\nthe towns in which our lot is cast, and never know one touch of that\nemotion, when we look at these people here in England torn, and anarchic,\nand wearied, and shepherdless, within sound of our psalm-singing in\nour chapels? Why, on any Sunday there are thousands of men and women\nstanding about the streets who, we may be sure, have not seen the\ninside of a church or a chapel since they were married, and that not\none in five hundred of all the good people that are going with their\nprayer-books and hymn-books to church and chapel ever think anything\nabout them as they pass them by; and some of them, perhaps, if they\ncome to any especially disreputable one, will gather up their skirts\nand keep on the safe side of the pavement, and there an end of it. But\nJesus Christ had no aversions. His white purity was a great deal nearer\nto the blackness of the woman that was a sinner, than was the leprous\nwhiteness of the whited sepulchre of the self-righteous Pharisee. He\nhad neither aversion, nor anger, nor indifference.\n\nAnd, if I might venture to touch upon another matter, compassion and\nnot curiosity is an especial lesson for the day to the more thoughtful\nand cultivated amongst our congregations. I have just said that the\nappropriate Christian feeling in contemplating the state of the sheep\nwithout the Shepherd is compassion, not curiosity. That reminder is\nparticularly needful in view of the prominence to-day of investigations\ninto the new science of Comparative Religion. I speak with most\nunfeigned respect of it and of its teachers, and gratefully hail the\nwonderful light that it is casting upon ideas underlying the strange\nand often savage and obscene rites of heathenism; but it has a side of\ndanger in it against which I would warn you all, especially young,\nreading men and women. The time has not yet come when we can afford to\nlet such investigations be our principal occupation in the face of\nheathenism. If idolatry was dead we could afford to do that, but it\nis alive--the more's the pity; and it is not only a curious instance\nof the workings of man's intelligence, and a great apocalypse of\nearlier stages of society, but, besides that, it is a lie that is\ndeceiving and damning our brethren, and we have got to kill it first\nand dissect it afterwards. So I say, do not only think of heathenism\nin its various forms as a subject for speculation and analysis; as\nmuch as you like of that, only do not let it drive out the other\nthing, and after you have tried to understand it, then come back to\nmy text, 'He was moved with compassion.' And so pity, and neither\nanger, nor aversion, nor curiosity, nor indifference is what I urge\nas the Christian emotion.\n\nIII. Let us take this text as teaching us how Christ would have us\nact, after such emotion built and based upon such a look.\n\nIt is perfectly legitimate, although it is by no means the highest\nmotive, to appeal to feeling as a stimulus to action. We have a\nright to base our urging of Christian men and women to missionary\nwork either at home or abroad, upon the ground of the condition of\nthe men to whom the Gospel has to be carried. I know that if taken\nalone it is a very inadequate motive. I believe that any failure\nthat may be manifest in the interest of Christian people in\nmissionary work is largely traceable to the blunder we have made in\ndwelling on superficial motives more than we ought to have done, in\nproportion to the degree in which we have dwelt on the deepest. We\nhave been gathering the surface-water instead of going right down to\nthe green sand, to which the artesian well must be sunk if the\nstream is to come up without pumping or wasting. So I say that a\ndeeper reason than the sorrow and darkness of the heathen is--'the\nlove of Christ constraineth me'; but yet the first is a legitimate\none. Only remember this, that Bishop Butler taught us long ago, that\nif you excite emotions which are intended to lead to action, and the\naction does not follow, the excitation of the emotion without its\nappropriate action makes the heart a great deal harder than it was\nbefore. That is why it is playing with edged tools to speak so much\nto our Christian audiences, as we sometimes hear done, about the\ncondition of the heathen as a stimulus to missionary work. If a man\ndoes not respond and do something, some crust of callousness and\ncoldness comes over his own heart. You cannot indulge in the luxury\nof emotion which you do not use to drive your spindles, without\ndoing yourselves harm. It is never intended to be blown off as waste\nsteam and allowed to vanish into the air. It is meant to be conserved\nand guided, and to have something done with it. Therefore beware of\nsentimental contemplation of the sad condition of the shepherdless\nsheep which does not move you to do anything to help them.\n\nOne word more. Take my text as a guide to the form of action into\nwhich we are to cast the emotions that should spring from this gaze\nupon the world. I will only name three points. Christ opened His\nmouth and spake to them, and taught them many things; Christ said to\nHis disciples, 'Pray ye the Lord of the harvest'; and Christ sent\nout His apostles to preach the Kingdom. These three things in their\nbearing upon us are--personal work, prayer, help to send forth\nChrist's messengers. There is nothing like personal work for making\na man understand and feel the miseries of his fellows. Christian men\nand women, it is your first business everywhere to proclaim the name\nof Jesus Christ, and no prayers and no subscriptions absolve you\nfrom that. In this army a man cannot buy himself off and send in a\nsubstitute at the cost of an annual guinea. If Christ sent the\napostles, do you hold up the hands of the apostles' successors, and\nso by God's grace you and I may help on the coming of that blessed\nday when there shall be one flock and one Shepherd, and when 'the\nLamb that is in the midst of the throne'--for the Shepherd is\nHimself a lamb--'shall feed them and lead them, and God shall wipe\naway all tears from their eyes.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE OBSCURE APOSTLES\n\n\n    'These twelve Jesus sent forth.'--MATT. x. 5.\n\nAnd half of 'these twelve' are never heard of as doing any work for\nChrist. Peter and James and John we know; the other James and Judas\nhave possibly left us short letters; Matthew gives us a Gospel; and\nof all the rest no trace is left. Some of them are never so much as\nnamed again, except in the list at the beginning of the Acts of the\nApostles; and none of them except the three who 'seemed to be pillars'\nappear to have been of much importance in the early diffusion of the\nGospel.\n\nThere are many instructive and interesting points in reference to\nthe Apostolate. The number of twelve, in obvious allusion to the\ntribes of Israel, proclaims the eternal certainty of the divine\npromises to His people, and the dignity of the New Testament Church\nas their true heir. The ties of relationship which knit so many of\nthe apostles together, the order of the names varying, but within\ncertain limits, in the different catalogues, the uncultivated\nprovincial rudeness of most of them, would all afford material for\nimportant reflections. But, perhaps, not the least important fact\nabout the Apostolate is that one to which we have referred, which\nlike the names of countries on the map, escapes notice because it is\n'writ' so 'large'--namely, the small place which the apostles as a\nbody fill in the subsequent narrative, and the entire oblivion into\nwhich so many of them pass from the moment of their appointment.\n\nIt is to that fact that we wish to turn attention now. It may\nsuggest some considerations worth pondering, and among other things,\nmay help to show the exaggeration of the functions of the office by\nthe opposite extremes of priests and rationalists. The one school\nmakes it the depository of exclusive supernatural powers; the other\nregards it as a master-stroke of organisation, to which the early\nrapid growth of Christianity was largely due. The facts seem to show\nthat it was neither.\n\nI. The first thought which this peculiar and unexpected silence\nsuggests is of the True Worker in the Church's progress.\n\nThe way in which the New Testament drops these apostles is of a piece\nwith the whole tone of the Bible. Throughout, men are introduced into\nits narratives and allowed to slip out with well-marked indifference.\nNowhere do we get more vivid, penetrating portraiture, but nowhere do\nwe see such carelessness about following the fortunes or completing the\nbiographies even of those who have filled the largest space in its pages.\n\nRecall, for example, the way in which the New Testament deals with\n'the very chiefest' apostles, the illustrious triad of Peter, James,\nand John. The first escapes from prison; we see him hammering at\nMary's door in the grey of the morning, and after brief, eager talk\nwith his friends he vanishes to hide in 'another place,' and is no\nmore heard of, except for a moment in the great council, held in\nJerusalem, about the admission of Gentiles to the Church. The second\nof the three is killed off in a parenthesis. The third is only seen\ntwice in the Book of the Acts, as a silent companion of Peter at a\nmiracle and before the Sanhedrim. Remember how Paul is left in his\nown hired house, within sight of trial and sentence, and neither the\noriginal writer of the book nor any later hand thought it worth\nwhile to add three lines to tell the world what became of him. A\nstrange way to write history, and a most imperfect narrative, surely!\nYes, unless there be some peculiarity in the purpose of the book,\nwhich explains this cold-blooded, inartistic, and tantalising habit\nof letting men leap upon the stage as if they had dropped from the\nclouds, and vanish from it as abruptly as if they had fallen through\na trap-door.\n\nSuch a peculiarity there is. One of the three to whom we have\nreferred has explained it in the words with which he closes his\ngospel, words which might stand for the motto of the whole book,\n'These are written that ye might believe that Jesus is the Son of\nGod.' The true purpose is not to speak of men except in so far as\nthey 'bore witness to that light' and were illuminated for a moment\nby contact with Him. From the beginning the true 'Hero' of the Bible\nis God; its theme is His self-revelation culminating for evermore in\nthe Man Jesus. All other men interest the writers only as they are\nsubsidiary or antagonistic to that revelation. As long as that\nbreath blows through them they are music; else they are but common\nreeds. Men are nothing except as instruments and organs of God. He\nis all, and His whole fulness is in Jesus Christ. Christ is the sole\nworker in the progress of His Church. That is the teaching of all\nthe New Testament. The thought is expressed in the deepest, simplest\nform in His own unapproachable words, unfathomable as they are in\ntheir depth of meaning, and inexhaustible in their power to\nstrengthen and to cheer: 'I am the vine, ye are the branches,\nwithout Me ye can do nothing.' It shapes the whole treatment of the\nhistory of the so-called 'Acts of the Apostles,' which by its very\nfirst sentence proclaims itself to be the Acts of the ascended\nJesus, 'the former treatise' being declared to have had for its\nsubject 'all that Jesus _began_ to do and teach while on earth,\nand this treatise being manifestly the continuance of the same\ntheme, and the record of the heavenly activity of the Lord. So the\nthought runs through all the book: 'The help that is done on earth,\nHe does it all Himself.'\n\n_So_ let us think of Him and of His relation to us as well as\nto that early Church. His continuous energy is pouring down on us if\nwe will accept it. _In_ us, _for_ us, _by_ us He works. 'My Father worketh\nhitherto, said He when here, 'and I work'; and now, exalted on high,\nHe has passed into that divine repose, which is at the same time the\nmost energetic divine activity. He is all in all to His people. He is\nall their strength, wisdom, and righteousness. They are but the clouds\nirradiated by the sun and bathed in its brightness; He is the light\nwhich flames in their grey mist and turns it to a glory. They are but\nthe belts and cranks and wheels; He is the power. They are but the\nchannel, muddy and dry; He is the flashing life that fills it and makes\nit a joy. They are the body; He is the soul dwelling in every part to\nsave it from corruption and give movement and warmth.\n\n  'Thou art the organ, whose full breath is thunder;\n   I am the keys, beneath thy fingers pressed.'\n\nIf this be true, how it should deliver us from all overestimate of\nmen, to which our human affections and our feeble faith tempt us so\nsorely! There _is_ One man, and One man only, whose biography\nis a 'Gospel, who owes nothing to circumstances, and who originates\nthe power which He wields; One who is a new beginning, and has\nchanged the whole current of human history, One to whom we are right\nto bring offerings of the gold, and incense, and myrrh of our\nhearts, and wills, and minds, which it is blasphemy and degradation\nto lay at the feet of any others. We may utterly love, trust, and\nobey Jesus Christ. We dare not do so to any other. The inscription\nwritten over the whole book, that it may be transcribed on our whole\nnature, is, 'No man any more save Jesus only.'\n\nIf this thought be true, what confidence it ought to give us as we\nthink of the tasks and fortunes of the Church! If we think only of the\ndifficulties and of the enormous work before us, so disproportioned\nto our weak powers, we shall be disposed to agree with our enemies,\nwho talk as if Christianity was on the point of perishing, as they\nhave been doing ever since it began. But the outlook is wonderfully\ndifferent when we take Christ into the account. We are very apt to\nleave Him out of the reckoning. But one man with Christ to back him is\nalways in the majority. He flings his sword clashing into one scale,\nand it weighs down all that is in the other. The walls are very lofty\nand strong, and the besiegers few and weak, badly armed, and quite\nunfit for the assault; but if we lift our eyes high enough, we, too,\nshall see a man with a drawn sword over against us, and our hearts\nmay leap up in assured confidence of victory as we recognise in Him\nthe Captain of the Lord's Host, who has already overcome, and will\nmake us valiant in fight and more than conquerors.\n\nWhen conscious of our own weakness, and tempted to think of our task\nas heavy, or when complacent in our own power, and tempted to regard\nour task as easy, let us think of His ever-present work in and for His\npeople, till it braces us for all duty, and rebukes our easy-going\nidleness. Surely from that thought of the active, ascended Christ may\ncome to many of His slothful followers the pleading question, as from\nHis own lips, 'Dost thou not care that thou hast left me to serve\nalone?' Surely to us all it should bring inspiration and strength,\ncourage and confidence, deliverance from man, and elevation above the\nreverence of blind impersonal forces. Surely we may all lay to heart\nthe grand lesson that union with Him is our only strength, and oblivion\nof ourselves our highest wisdom. Surely he has best learned his true\nplace and the worth of Jesus Christ, who abides with unmoved humility\nat His feet, and, like the lonely, lowly forerunner, puts away all\ntemptations to self-assertion while joyfully accepting it as the law\nof his life to\n\n  'Fade in the light of the planet he loves,\n   To fade in his light and to die.'\n\nBlessed is he who is glad to say,' He must increase, I must\ndecrease!'\n\nII. This same silence of Scripture as to so many of the apostles may\nbe taken as suggesting what the real work of these delegated workers\nwas.\n\nIt certainly seems very strange that, if they were the possessors of\nsuch extraordinary powers as the theory of Apostolic Succession\nimplies, we should hear so little of these in the narratives. The\nsilence of Scripture about them goes a long way to discredit such\nideas, while it is entirely accordant with a more modest view of the\napostolic office.\n\nWhat was an apostle's function during the life of Christ? One of the\nevangelists divides it into three portions: to be with Jesus; to\npreach the kingdom; to cast out devils and to heal. There is nothing\nin these offices peculiar to them. The seventy had miraculous powers\ntoo, and some at least were our Lord's companions and preachers of\nHis kingdom who were simple disciples. What was an apostle's\nfunction after the resurrection? Peter's words, on proposing the\nelection of a new apostle, lay down the duty as simply 'to bear\nwitness' of that resurrection. They were not supernatural channels\nof mysterious grace, not lords over God's heritage, not even leaders\nof the Church, but bearers of a testimony to the great historical\nfact, on the acceptance of which all belief in an historical Christ\ndepended then and depends now. Each of the greater of the apostles\nis penetrated with the same thought. Paul disclaims anything beside\nin his 'Not I, but the grace of God in me.' Peter thrusts the\nquestion at the staring crowd, 'Why look ye on us as though by\n_our_ power or holiness _we_ had made this man to walk?' John, in his\ncalm way, tells his children at Ephesus, 'Ye need not that any man\nteach you.'\n\nSuch an idea of the apostolic office is far more reasonable and\naccordant with Scripture than a figment about unexampled powers and\nauthority in the Church. It accounts for the qualifications as\nstated in the same address of Peter's, which merely secure the\nvalidity of their testimony. The one thing that _must_ be found\nin an apostle was that he should have been in familiar intercourse\nwith Christ during his earthly life, both before and after His\nresurrection, in order that he might be able to say, 'I knew Him\nwell; I know that He died; I know that He rose again; I saw Him go\nup to heaven.' For such a work there was no need for men of\ncommanding power. Plain, simple, honest men who had the requisite\neye-witness were sufficient. The guidance and the missionary work of\nthe Church need not necessarily be in their hands, and, in fact,\ndoes not seem to have been. In harmony with this view of the office\nand its requisites, we find that Paul rests the validity of his\napostolate on the fact that 'He was seen of me also,' and regards\nthat vision as his true appointment which left him not 'one whit\nbehind the very chiefest apostles.' Miraculous gifts indeed they\nhad, and miraculous gifts they imparted; but in both instances\nothers shared these powers with them. It was no apostle who laid his\nhands on the blinded Saul in that house in Damascus and said,\n'Receive the Holy Ghost.' An apostle stood by passive and wondering\nwhen the Holy Ghost fell on Cornelius and his comrades. In reality\napostolic succession is absurd, because there is nothing to succeed\nto, except what cannot be transmitted, personal knowledge of the\nreality of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. To establish that fact\nas indubitable history is to lay the foundation of the Christian\nChurch, and the eleven plain men, who did that, need no\nsuperstitious mist around them to magnify their greatness.\n\nIn so far as any succession to them or any devolution of their office\nis possible, all Christian men inherit it, for to bear witness of the\nliving power of the risen Lord is still the office and honour of\nevery believing soul. It is still true that the sharpest weapon which\nany man can wield for Christ is the simple adducing of his own personal\nexperience. 'That which we have seen and handled we declare' is still\nthe best form into which our preaching can be cast. And such a voice\nevery man and woman who has found the sweetness and the power of Christ\nfilling their own souls, is bound--rather let us say, is privileged--to\nlift up. 'This honour have all the saints.' Christ is the true worker,\nand all our work is but to proclaim Him, and what He has done and is\ndoing for ourselves and for all men.\n\nIII. We may gather, too, the lesson of how often faithful work is\nunrecorded and forgotten.\n\nNo doubt those apostles who have no place in the history toiled\nhonestly and did their Lord's commands, and oblivion has swallowed\nit all. Bartholomew and 'Lebbaeus, whose surname was Thaddaeus,' and\nthe rest of them, have no place in the record, and their obscure\nwork is faded, faithful and good as certainly it was.\n\nSo it will be sooner or later with us all. For most of us, our\nservice has to be unnoticed and unknown, and the memory of our poor\nwork will live perhaps for a year or two in the hearts of some few\nwho loved us, but will fade wholly when they follow us into the\nsilent land. Well, be it so; we shall sleep none the less sweetly,\nthough none be talking about us over our heads. The world has a\nshort memory, and, as the years go on, the list that it has to\nremember grows so crowded that it is harder and harder to find room\nto write a new name on it, or to read the old. The letters on the\ntombstones are soon erased by the feet that tramp across the\nchurchyard. All that matters very little. The notoriety of our work\nis of no consequence. The earnestness and accuracy with which we\nstrike our blow is all-important; but it matters nothing how far it\nechoes. It is not the heaven of heavens to be talked about, nor does\na man's life consist in the abundance of newspaper or other\nparagraphs about him. 'The love of fame' is, no doubt, sometimes\nfound in 'minds' otherwise 'noble,' but in itself is very much the\nreverse of noble. We shall do our work best, and be saved from much\nfestering anxiety which corrupts our purest service and fevers our\nserenest thoughts, if we once fairly make up our minds to working\nunnoticed and unknown, and determine that, whether our post be a\nconspicuous or an obscure one, we shall fill it to the utmost of our\npower--careless of praise or censure, because our judgment is with\nour God; careless whether we are unknown or well known, because we\nare known altogether to Him.\n\nThe magnitude of our work in men's eyes is as little important as\nthe noise of it. Christ gave all the apostles their tasks--to some\nof them to found the Gentile churches, to some of them to leave to\nall generations precious teaching, to some of them none of these\nthings. What then? Were the Peters and the Johns more highly\nfavoured than the others? Was their work greater in His sight? Not\nso. To Him all service done from the same motive is the same, and\nHis measure of excellence is the quantity of love and spiritual\nforce in our deeds, not the width of the area over which they\nspread. An estuary that goes wandering over miles of shallows may\nhave less water in it, and may creep more languidly, than the\ntorrent that thunders through some narrow gorge. The deeds that\nstand highest on the records in heaven are not those which we\nvulgarly call great. Many 'a cup of cold water only' will be found\nto have been rated higher there than jewelled golden chalices\nbrimming with rare wines. God's treasures, where He keeps His\nchildren's gifts, will be like many a mother's secret store of\nrelics of her children, full of things of no value, what the world\ncalls 'trash,' but precious in His eyes for the love's sake that was\nin them.\n\nAll service which is done from the same motive and with the same\nspirit is of the same worth in His eyes. It does not matter whether\nyou have the gospel in a penny Testament printed on thin paper with\nblack ink and done up in cloth, or in an illuminated missal glowing\nin gold and colour, painted with loving care on fair parchment, and\nbound in jewelled ivory. And so it matters little about the material\nor the scale on which we express our devotion and our aspirations;\nall depends on what we copy, not on the size of the canvas on which,\nor on the material in which, we copy it. 'Small service is true\nservice while it lasts,' and the unnoticed insignificant servants\nmay do work every whit as good and noble as the most widely known,\nto whom have been intrusted by Christ tasks that mould the ages.\n\nIV. Finally, we may add that forgotten work is remembered, and\nunrecorded names are recorded above.\n\nThe names of these almost anonymous apostles have no place in the\nrecords of the advancement of the Church or of the development of\nChristian doctrine. They drop out of the narrative after the list in\nthe first chapter of the Acts. But we do hear of them once more. In\nthat last vision of the great city which the seer beheld descending\nfrom God, we read that in its 'foundations were the names of the\ntwelve apostles of the Lamb.' All were graven there--the inconspicuous\nnames carved on no record of earth, as well as the familiar ones cut\ndeep in the rock to be seen of all men for ever. At the least that\ngrand image may tell us that when the perfect state of the Church is\nrealised, the work which these men did when their testimony laid its\nfoundation, will be for ever associated with their names. Unrecorded\non earth, they are written in heaven.\n\nThe forgotten work and its workers are remembered by Christ. His\nfaithful heart and all-seeing eye keep them ever in view. The world,\nand the Church whom these humble men helped, may forget, yet He will\nnot forget. From whatever muster-roll of benefactors and helpers\ntheir names may be absent, they will be in His list. The Apostle\nPaul, in his Epistle to the Philippians, has a saying in which his\ndelicate courtesy is beautifully conspicuous, where he half apologises\nfor not sending his greetings 'to others my fellow-workers' by name,\nand reminds them that, however their names may be unwritten in his\nletter, they have been inscribed by a mightier hand on a better page,\nand 'are in the Lamb's book of life.' It matters very little from what\nrecord ours may be absent so long as they are found there. Let us\nrejoice that, though we may live obscure and die forgotten, we may\nhave our names written on the breastplate of our High Priest as He\nstands in the Holy Place, the breastplate which lies close to His\nheart of love, and is girded to His arm of power.\n\nThe forgotten and unrecorded work lives, too, in the great whole. The\nfruit of our labour may perhaps not be separable from that of others,\nany more than the sowers can go into the reaped harvest-field and\nidentify the gathered ears which have sprung from the seed that they\nsowed, but it is there all the same; and whosoever may be unable to\npick out each man's share in the blessed total outcome, the Lord of\nthe harvest knows, and His accurate proportionment of individual\nreward to individual service will not mar the companionship in the\ngeneral gladness, when 'he that soweth and he that reapeth shall\nrejoice together.'\n\nThe forgotten work will live, too, in blessed results to the doers.\nWhatever of recognition and honour we may miss here, we cannot be\nrobbed of the blessing to ourselves, in the perpetual influence on\nour own character, of every piece of faithful even if imperfect\nservice. Habits are formed, emotions deepened, principles confirmed,\ncapacities enlarged by every deed done for Christ, and these make an\nover-measure of reward here, and in their perfect form hereafter are\nheaven. Nothing done for Him is ever wasted. 'Thou shalt find it\nafter many days.' We are all writing our lives' histories here, as\nif with one of these 'manifold writers'--a black blank page beneath\nthe flimsy sheet on which we write, but presently the black page\nwill be taken away, and the writing will stand out plain on the page\nbehind that we did not see. Life is the filmy, unsubstantial page on\nwhich our pen rests; the black page is death; and the page beneath\nis that indelible transcript of our earthly actions, which we shall\nfind waiting for us to read, with shame and confusion of face, or\nwith humble joy, in another world.\n\nThen let us do our work for Christ, not much careful whether it be\ngreater or smaller, obscure or conspicuous; assured that whoever\nforgets us and it, He will remember, and however our names may be\nunrecorded on earth, they will be written in heaven, and confessed\nby Him before His Father and the holy angels.\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S CHARGE TO HIS HERALDS\n\n\n    'These twelve Jesus sent forth, and commanded them,\n    saying, do not into the way of the Gentiles, and into\n    any city of the Samaritans enter ye not: 6. But go\n    rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. 7. And\n    as ye go, preach, saying, The kingdom of heaven is at\n    hand. 8. Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the\n    dead, cast out devils: freely ye have received, freely\n    give. 9. Provide neither gold, nor silver, nor brass in\n    your purses, 10. Nor scrip for your journey, neither\n    two coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves: for the\n    workman is worthy of his meat. 11. And into whatsoever\n    city or town ye shall enter, enquire who in it is\n    worthy: and there abide till ye go thence. 12. And when\n    ye come into an house, salute it. 13. And if the house\n    be worthy, let your peace come upon it: but if it be\n    not worthy, let your peace return to you. 14. And\n    whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words,\n    when ye depart out of that house or city, shake off the\n    dust of your feet. 15. Verily I say unto you, It shall\n    be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrha in\n    the day of judgment, than for that city. 16. Behold, I\n    send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye\n    therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.'\n    --Matt. x. 5-16.\n\nThe letter of these instructions to the apostles has been abrogated\nby Christ, both in reference to the scope of, and the equipment for,\ntheir mission (Matt. xxviii. 19; Luke xxii. 36). The spirit of them\nremains as the perpetual obligation of all Christian workers, and\nevery Christian should belong to that class. Some direct\nevangelistic work ought to be done by every believer, and in doing\nit he will find no better directory than this charge to the\napostles.\n\nI. We have, first, the apostles' mission in its sphere and manner\n(vs. 5-8). They are told where to go and what to do there. Mark that\nthe negative prohibition precedes the positive injunction, as if the\napostles were already so imbued with the spirit of universalism that\nthey would probably have overpassed the bounds which for the present\nwere needful. The restriction was transient. It continued in the\nline of divine limitation of the sphere of Revelation which confined\nitself to the Jew, in order that through him it might reach the\nworld. That method could not be abandoned till the Jew himself had\ndestroyed it by rejecting Christ. Jesus still clung to it. Even when\nthe commission was widened to 'all the world,' Paul went 'to the Jew\nfirst,' till he too was taught by uniform failure that Israel was\nfixed in unbelief.\n\nHow tenderly our Lord designates the nation as 'the lost sheep of\nthe house of Israel'! He is still influenced by that compassion\nwhich the sight of the multitudes had moved in Him (chap. ix. 36).\nLost indeed, wandering with torn fleece, and lying panting, in\nignorance of their pasture and their Shepherd, they are yet 'sheep,'\nand they belong to that chosen seed, sprung from so venerable\nancestors, and heirs of so glorious promises. Clear sight of, and\ninfinite pity for, men's miseries, must underlie all apostolic\neffort.\n\nThe work to be done is twofold--a glad truth is to be proclaimed,\ngracious deeds of power are to be done. How blessed must be the kingdom,\nthe forerunners of which are miracles of healing and life-giving! If\nthe heralds can do these, what will not the King be able to do? If such\nhues attend the dawn, how radiant will be the noontide! Note 'as ye\ngo,' indicating that they were travelling evangelists, and were to\nspeak as they went, and go when they had spoken. The road was to be\ntheir pulpit, and each man they met their audience. What a different\nworld it would be if Christians carried their message with them _so_!\n\n'Freely ye have received'; namely, in the first application of the\nwords, the message of the coming kingdom and the power to work\nmiracles. But the force of the injunction, as applied to us, is even\nmore soul-subduing, as our gift is greater, and the freedom of its\nbestowal should evoke deeper gratitude. The deepest springs of the\nheart's love are set flowing by the undeserved, unpurchased gift of\nGod, which contains in itself both the most tender and mighty motive\nfor self-forgetting labour, and the pattern for Christian service.\nHow can one who has received that gift keep it to himself? How can\nhe sell what he got for nothing? 'Freely give'--the precept forbids\nthe seeking of personal profit or advantage from preaching the\ngospel, and so makes a sharp test of our motives; and it also\nforbids clogging the gift with non-essential conditions, and so\nmakes a sharp test of our methods.\n\nII. The prohibition to make gain out of the message, serves as a\ntransition to the directions as to equipment. The apostles were to\ngo as they stood; for the command is, '_Get_ you no gold,' etc.\nIt has been already noted that these prohibitions were abrogated by\nJesus in view of His departure, and the world-wide mission of the\nChurch. But the spirit of them is not abrogated. Note that the\ndescending value of the metals named makes an ascending stringency\nin the prohibition. Not even copper money is to be taken. The\n'wallet' was a leather satchel or bag, used by shepherds and others\nto carry a little food; sustenance, then, was also to be left\nuncared for. Dress, too, was to be limited to that in wear; no\nchange of inner robe nor a spare pair of shoes was to encumber them,\nnor even a spare staff. If any of them had one in his hand, he was\nto take it (Mark vi. 8). The command was meant to lift the apostles\nabove suspicion, to make them manifestly disinterested, to free them\nfrom anxiety about earthly things, that their message might absorb\ntheir thoughts and efforts, and to give room for the display of\nChrist's power to provide. It had a promise wrapped in it. He who\nforbade them to provide for themselves thereby pledged Himself to\ntake care of them. 'The labourer is worthy of his food.' They may be\nsure of subsistence, and are not to wish for more.\n\nAll this has a distinct bearing on modern church arrangements. On\nthe one hand, it vindicates the right of those who preach the gospel\nto live of the gospel, and sets any payments to them on the right\nfooting, as not being charity or generosity, but the discharge of a\ndebt. On the other hand, it enjoins on preachers and others who are\npaid for service not to serve for pay, not to be covetous of large\nremuneration, and to take care that no taint of greed for money\nshall mar their work, but that their conduct may confirm their words\nwhen they say with Paul, 'We seek not yours, but you.'\n\nIII. The conduct required from, and the reception met with by, the\nmessengers come next. Christ first enjoins discretion and\ndiscrimination of character, so far as possible. The messenger of\nthe kingdom is not to be mixed up with disreputable people, lest the\nmessage should suffer. The principle of his choice of a home is to\nbe, not position, comfort, or the like, but 'worthiness'; that is,\npredisposition to receive the message. However poor the chamber in\nthe house of such, there is the apostle to settle himself. 'If ye\nhave judged me to be faithful, come into my house,' said Lydia. The\nless Christ's messengers are at home with Christ's neglecters, the\ncalmer their own hearts, and the more potent their message. They\ngive the lie to it, if they voluntarily choose as their associates\nthose to whom their dearest convictions are idle. Christian charity\ndoes not blind to distinctions of character. A little common sense\nin reading these will save many a scandal, and much weakening of\ninfluence.\n\nChristian earnestness does not abolish courtesy. The message is not\nto be blurted out in defiance of even conventional forms. Zeal for\nthe Lord is no excuse for rude abruptness. But the salutation of the\ntrue apostle will deepen the meaning of such forms, and make the\nconventional the real expression of real goodwill. No man should say\n'Peace be unto you' so heartily as Christ's servant. The servant's\nbenediction will bring the Master's ratification; for Jesus says,\n'_Let_ your peace come upon it,' as if commanding the good\nwhich we can only wish. That will be so, if the requisite condition\nis fulfilled. There must be soil for the seed to root in.\n\nBut no true wish for others' good--still more, no effort for it--is\never void of blessed issue. If the peace does not rest on a house\ninto which jarring and sin forbid its entrance, it will not be\nhomeless, but come back, like the dove to the ark, and fold its\nwings in the heart of the sender. The reflex influence of Christian\neffort is precious, whatever its direct results are. How the Church\nhas been benefited by its missionary enterprises!\n\nJesus encouraged no illusions in His servants as to their success.\nFrom the beginning they were led to expect that some would receive\nand some would reject their words. In this rapid preparatory\nmission, there was no time for long delay anywhere; but for us, it\nis not wise to conclude that patient effort will fail because first\nappeals have not succeeded. Much close communion with Jesus, not a\nlittle self-suppression, and abundant practical wisdom, are needed\nto determine the point at which further efforts are vain. No doubt,\nthere is often great waste of strength in trying to impress\nunimpressible people, or to revive some moribund enterprise; but it\nis a pardonable weakness to be reluctant to abandon a field. Still\nit _is_ a weakness, and there come times when the only right\nthing to do is to 'shake off the dust' of the messenger's feet in\ntoken that all connection is ended, and that he is clear from the\nblood of the rejecters. The awful doom of such is solemnly\nintroduced by 'Verily, I say unto you.' It rests on the plain\nprinciple that the measure of light is the measure of criminality,\nand hence the measure of punishment. The rejecters of Christ among\nus are as much more guilty than 'that city' as its inhabitants were\nthan the men of Sodom.\n\nThe first section of this charge properly ends with verse 15, the\nfollowing verse being a transition to the second part. The Greek\nputs strong emphasis on 'I.' It is He who sends among wolves,\ntherefore He will protect. A strange thing for a shepherd to do! A\nstrange encouragement for the apostles on the threshold of their\nwork! But the words would often come back to them when beset by the\npack with their white teeth gleaming, and their howls filling the\nnight. They are not promised that they will not be torn, but they\nare assured that, even if they are, the Shepherd wills it, and will\nnot lose one of His flock.\n\nWhat is the Christian defence? Prudence like the serpent's, but not\nthe serpent's craft or malice; harmlessness like the dove's, but not\nwithout the other safeguard of 'wisdom.' The combination is a rare\none, and the surest way to possess it is to live so close to Jesus\nthat we shall be progressively changed into His likeness. Then our\nprudence will never degenerate into cunning, nor our simplicity\nbecome blindness to dangers. The Christian armour and arms are meek,\nunconquerable patience, and Christ-likeness, To resist is to be\nbeaten; to endure unretaliating is to be victorious. 'Be not\novercome of evil, but overcome evil with good.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE WIDENED MISSION, ITS PERILS AND DEFENCES\n\n\n    'Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of\n    wolves; be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless\n    as doves. 17. But beware of men: for they will deliver\n    you up to the councils, and they will scourge you in\n    their synagogues; 18. And ye shall be brought before\n    governors and kings for My sake, for a testimony\n    against them and the Gentiles. 19. But when they\n    deliver you up, take no thought how or what ye shall\n    speak: for it shall be given you in that same hour what\n    ye shall speak. 20. For it is not ye that speak, but\n    the Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you.\n    21. And the brother shall deliver up the brother to\n    death, and the father the child: and the children shall\n    rise up against their parents, and cause them to be put\n    to death. 22. And ye shall be hated of all men for My\n    name's sake: but he that endureth to the end shall be\n    saved. 23. But when they persecute you in this city,\n    flee ye into another: for verily I say unto you, Ye\n    shall not have gone over the cities of Israel, till the\n    Son of Man be come. 24. The disciple is not above his\n    master, nor the servant above his lord. 25. It is\n    enough for the disciple that he be as his master, and\n    the servant as his lord. If they have called the master\n    of the house Beelzebub, how much more shall they call\n    them of his household? 26. Fear them not therefore: for\n    there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed;\n    and hid, that shall not be known. 27. What I tell you\n    in darkness, that speak ye in light: and what ye hear\n    in the ear, that preach ye upon the housetops. 28. And\n    fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to\n    kill the soul: but rather fear Him which is able to\n    destroy both soul and body in hell. 29. Are not two\n    sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not\n    fall on the ground without your Father. 30. But the\n    very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31. Fear ye\n    not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.'\n    --MATT. x. 16-31.\n\nWe have already had two instances of Matthew's way of bringing\ntogether sayings and incidents of a like kind without regard to\ntheir original connection. The Sermon on the Mount and the series of\nmiracles in chapters viii. and ix. are groups, the elements of which\nare for the most part found disconnected in Mark and Luke. This\ncharge to the twelve in chapter x. seems to present a third\ninstance, and to pass over in verse 16 to a wider mission than that\nof the twelve during our Lord's lifetime, for it forebodes\npersecution, whereas the preceding verses opened no darker prospect\nthan that of indifference or non-reception. The 'city' which, in\nthat stage of the gospel message, simply would 'not receive you nor\nhear your words,' in this stage has worsened into one where 'they\npersecute you,' and the persecutors are now 'kings' and 'Gentiles,'\nas well as Jewish councils and synagogue-frequenters. The period\ncovered in these verses, too, reaches to the 'end,' the final\nrevelation of all hidden things.\n\nObviously, then, our Lord is looking down a far future, and giving a\ncharge to the dim crowd of His later disciples, whom His prescient\neye saw pressing behind the twelve in days to come. He had no dreams\nof swift success, but realised the long, hard fight to which He was\nsummoning His disciples. And His frankness in telling them the worst\nthat they had to expect was as suggestive as was His freedom from\nthe rosy, groundless visions of at once capturing a world which\nenthusiasts are apt to cherish, till hard experience shatters the\nillusions. He knew the future in store for Himself, for His Gospel,\nfor His disciples. And He knew that dangers and death itself will\nnot appal a soul that is touched into heroic self-forgetfulness by\nHis love. 'Set down my name,' says the man in _Pilgrim's Progress_,\nthough he knew--may we not say, because he knew?--that the enemies\nwere outside waiting to fall on him.\n\nA further difference between this and the preceding section is, that\nthere the stress was laid on the contents of the disciples' message,\nbut that here it is laid on their sufferings. Not so much by what\nthey say, as by how they endure, are they to testify. 'The noble\narmy of martyrs praise Thee,' and the primitive Church preached\nJesus most effectually by dying for Him.\n\nThe keynote is struck in verse 16, in which are to be noted the\n'Behold,' which introduces something important and strange, and\ncalls for close attention; the majestic '_I_ send you,' which\nmoves to obedience whatever the issues, and pledges Him to defend\nthe poor men who are going on His errands and the pathetic picture\nof the little flock huddled together, while the gleaming teeth of\nthe wolves gnash all round them. A strange theme to drape in a\nmetaphor! but does not the very metaphor help to lighten the\ndarkness of the picture, as well as speak of His calmness, while He\ncontemplates it? If the Shepherd sends His sheep into the midst of\nwolves, surely He will come to their help, and surely any peril is\nmore courageously faced when they can say to themselves, 'He put us\nhere.' The sheep has no claws to wound with nor teeth to tear with,\nbut the defenceless Christian has a defence, and in his very\nweaponlessness wields the sharpest two-edged sword. 'Force from\nforce must ever flow.' Resistance is a mistake. The victorious\nantagonist of savage enmity is patient meekness. 'Sufferance is the\nbadge of all' true servants of Jesus. Wherever they have been\nmisguided enough to depart from Christ's law of endurance and to\ngive blow for blow, they have lost their cause in the long run, and\nhave hurt their own Christian life more than their enemies' bodies.\nGuilelessness and harmlessness are their weapons. But 'be ye wise as\nserpents' is equally imperative with 'guileless as doves.' Mark the\nfine sanity of that injunction, which not only permits but enjoins\nprudent self-preservation, so long as it does not stoop to crooked\npolicy, and is saved from that by dove-like guilelessness. A\ndifficult combination, but a possible one, and when realised, a\nbeautiful one!\n\nThe following verses (17-22) expand the preceding, and mingle in a\nvery remarkable way plain predictions of persecution to the death\nand encouragements to front the worst. Jewish councils and\nsynagogues, Gentile governors and kings, will unite for once in\ncommon hatred, than which there is no stronger bond. That is a grim\nprospect to set before a handful of Galilean peasants, but two\nlittle words turn its terror into joy; it is 'for My sake,' and that\nis enough. Jesus trusted His humble friends, as He trusts all such\nalways, and believed that 'for My sake' was a talisman which would\nsweeten the bitterest cup and would make cowards into heroes, and\nsend men and women to their deaths triumphant. And history has\nproved that He did not trust them too much. 'For His sake'--is that\na charm for _us_, which makes the crooked straight and the\nrough places plain, which nerves for suffering and impels to noble\nacts, which moulds life and takes the sting and the terror out of\ndeath? Nor is that the only encouragement given to the twelve, who\nmight well be appalled at the prospect of standing before Gentile\nkings. Jesus seems to discern how they shrank as they listened, at\nthe thought of having to bear 'testimony' before exalted personages,\nand, with beautiful adaptation to their weakness, He interjects a\ngreat promise, which, for the first time, presents the divine Spirit\nas dwelling in the disciples' spirits. The occasion of the dawning\nof that great Christian thought is very noteworthy, and not less so\nis the designation of the Spirit as 'of your Father,' with all the\nimplications of paternal care and love which that name carries.\nSpecial crises bring special helps, and the martyrologies of all\nages and lands, from Stephen outside the city wall to the last\nChinese woman, have attested the faithfulness of the Promiser. How\noften have some calm, simple words from some slave girl in Roman\ncities, or some ignorant confessor before Inquisitors, been\nmanifestly touched with heavenly light and power, and silenced\nsophistries and threats!\n\nThe solemn foretelling of persecution, broken for a moment, goes on\nand becomes even more foreboding, for it speaks of dearest ones\nturned to foes, and the sweet sanctities of family ties dissolved by\nthe solvent of the new Faith. There is no enemy like a brother\nestranged, and it is tragically significant that it is in connection\nwith the rupture of family bonds that death is first mentioned as\nthe price that Christ's messengers would have to pay for\nfaithfulness to their message. But the prediction springs at a\nbound, as it were, from the narrow circle of home to the widest\nrange, and does not fear to spread before the eyes of the twelve\nthat they will become the objects of hatred to the whole human race\nif they are true to Christ's charge. The picture is dark enough, and\nit has turned out to be a true forecast of facts. It suggests two\nquestions. What right had Jesus to send men out on such an errand,\nand to bid them gladly die for Him? And what made these men gladly\ntake up the burden which He laid on them? He has the right to\ndispose of us, because He is the Son of God who has died for us.\nOtherwise He is not entitled to say to us, Do my bidding, even if it\nleads you to death. His servants find their inspiration to absolute,\nunconditional self-surrender in the Love that has died for them.\nThat which gives Him His right to dispose of us in life and death\ngives us the disposition to yield ourselves wholly to Him, to be His\napostles according to our opportunities, and to say, 'Whether I live\nor die, I am the Lord's.'\n\nThat thought of world-wide hatred is soothed by the recurrence of\nthe talisman, 'For My name's sake,' and by a moment's showing of a\nfair prospect behind the gloom streaked with lightning in the\nforeground. 'He that endureth to the end shall be saved.' The same\nsaying occurs in chapter xxiv. 13, in connection with the prediction\nof the fall of Jerusalem, and in the same connection in Mark xiii.\n13, in both of which places several other sayings which appear in\nthis charge to the apostles are found. It is impossible to settle\nwhich is the original place for these, or whether they were twice\nspoken. The latter supposition is very unfashionable at present, but\nhas perhaps more to say for itself than modern critics are willing\nto allow. But Luke (xxi. 19) has a remarkable variation of the\nsaying, for his version of it is, 'In your patience, ye shall win\nyour souls.' His word 'patience' is a noun cognate with the verb\nrendered in Matthew and Mark 'endureth,' and to 'win one's soul' is\nobviously synonymous with being 'saved.' The saying cannot be\nlimited, in any of its forms, to a mere securing of earthly life,\nfor in this context it plainly includes those who have been\ndelivered to death by parents and brethren, but who by death have\nwon their lives, and have been, as Paul expected to be, thereby\n'saved into His heavenly kingdom.' To the Christian, death is the\nusher who introduces him into the presence-chamber of the King, and\nhe that loseth his life 'for My name's sake,' finds it glorified in,\nand into, life eternal.\n\nBut willingness to endure the utmost is to be accompanied with\nwillingness to take all worthy means to escape it. There has been a\ncertain unwholesome craving for martyrdom generated in times of\npersecution, which may appear noble but is very wasteful. The worst\nuse that you can put a man to is to burn him, and a living witness\nmay do more for Christ than a dead martyr. Christian heroism may be\nshown in not being afraid to flee quite as much as in courting, or\npassively awaiting, danger. And Christ's Name will be spread when\nHis lovers are hounded from one city to another, just as it was when\n'they that were scattered abroad, went everywhere, preaching the\nword.' When the brands are kicked apart by the heel of violence,\nthey kindle flames where they fall.\n\nBut the reason for this command to flee is perplexing. 'Ye shall not\nhave gone over the cities of Israel till the Son of Man be come.' Is\nJesus here reverting to the narrower immediate mission of the\napostles? What 'coming' is referred to? We have seen that the first\nmission of the twelve was the theme of verses 5-15, and was there\npursued to its ultimate consequences of final judgment on rejecters,\nwhilst the wider horizon of a future mission opens out from verse 16\nonwards. A renewed contraction of the horizon is extremely unlikely.\nIt would be as if 'a flower should shut and be a bud again.' The\nrecurrence in verse 23 of 'Verily I say unto you,' which has already\noccurred in verse 15, closing the first section of the charge, makes\nit probable that here too a section is completed, and that\nprobability is strengthened if it is observed that the same phrase\noccurs, for a third time, in the last verse of the chapter, where\nagain the discourse soars to the height of contemplating the final\nreward. The fact that the apostles met with no persecution on their\nfirst mission, puts out of court the explanation of the words that\nrefers them to that mission, and takes the 'coming' to be Jesus' own\nappearances in the places they had preceded Him as His heralds. The\ndifficult question as to what is the _terminus ad quem_ pointed\nto here seems best solved by taking the 'coming of the Son of Man'\nto be His judicial manifestation in the destruction of Jerusalem and\nthe consequent desolation of many of 'the cities of Israel,' whilst\nat the same time, the nearer and smaller catastrophe is a prophecy\nand symbol of the remoter and greater 'day of the Son of Man' at the\nend of the days. The recognition of that aspect of the fall of\nJerusalem is forced on us by the eschatological parts of the\nGospels, which are a bewildering whirl without it. Here, however, it\nis the crash of the fall itself which is in view, and the thought\nconveyed is that there would be cities enough to serve for refuges,\nand scope enough for evangelistic work, till the end of the Jewish\npossession of the land.\n\nIn verses 26-31, 'fear not' is thrice spoken, and at each occurrence\nis enforced by a reason. The first of these encouragements is the\nassurance of the certain ultimate world-wide manifestation of hidden\nthings. That same dictum occurs in other connections, and with other\napplications, but in the present context can only be taken as an\nassurance that the Gospel message, little known as it thus far was,\nwas destined to fill all ears. Therefore the disciples were to be\nfearless in doing their part in making it known, and so working in\nalliance with the divine purpose. It is the same thing that is meant\nby the 'covered' that 'shall be revealed,' the 'hidden' that 'shall\nbe known,' 'that which is spoken in darkness,' and 'that which is\nwhispered in the ear'; and all four designations refer to the word\nwhich every Christian has it in charge to sound out. We note that\nJesus foresees a far wider range of publicity for His servants'\nministry than for His own, just as He afterwards declared that they\nwould do 'greater works' than His. He spoke to a handful of men in\nan obscure corner of the world. His teaching was necessarily largely\nconfidential communication to the fit few. But the spark is going to\nbe a blaze, and the whisper to become a shout that fills the world.\nSurely, then, we who are working in the line of direction of God's\nworking should let no fear make us dumb, but should ever hear and\nobey the command: 'Lift up thy voice with strength, lift it up, be\nnot afraid.'\n\nA second reason for fearlessness is the limitation of the enemy's\npower to hurt, reinforced by the thought that, while the penalties\nthat man can inflict for faithfulness are only corporeal,\ntransitory, and incapable of harming the true self, the consequences\nof unfaithfulness fling the whole man, body and soul, down to utter\nruin. There is a fear that makes cowards and apostates; there is a\nfear which makes heroes and apostles. He who fears God, with the awe\nthat has no torment and is own sister to love, is afraid of nothing\nand of no man. That holy and blessed fear drives out all other, as\nfire draws the heat out of a burn. He that serves Christ is lord of\nthe world; he that fears God fronts the world, and is not afraid.\n\nThe last reason for fearlessness touches a tender chord, and\ndiscloses a gracious thought of God as Father, which softens the\ntremendous preceding word: 'Who is able to destroy both soul and\nbody in hell.' Take both designations together, and let them work\ntogether in producing the awe which makes us brave, and the filial\ntrust which makes us braver. A bird does not 'fall to the ground'\nunless wounded, and if it falls it dies. Jesus had looked pityingly\non the great mystery, the woes of the creatures, and had stayed\nHimself on the thought of the all-embracing working of God. The very\ndying sparrow, with broken wing, had its place in that universal\ncare. God is 'immanent' in nature. The antithesis often drawn\nbetween His universal care and His 'special providence' is\nmisleading. Providence is special because it is universal. That\nwhich embraces everything must embrace each thing. But the immanent\nGod is 'your Father,' and because of that sonship, 'ye are of more\nvalue than many sparrows.' There is an ascending order, and an\nincreasing closeness and tenderness of relation. 'A man is better\nthan a sheep,' and Christians, being God's children, may count on\ngetting closer into the Father's heart than the poor crippled bird\ncan, or than the godless man can. 'Your Father,' on the one hand,\ncan destroy soul and body, therefore fear Him; but, on the other, He\ndetermines whether you shall 'fall to the ground' or soar above\ndangers, therefore fear none but Him.\n\n\n\n\nLIKE TEACHER, LIKE SCHOLAR\n\n\n    'The disciple is not above his master, nor the servant\n    above his lord. 26. It is enough for the disciple that\n    he be as his master, and the servant as his lord.'\n    --MATT. x. 24, 25.\n\nThese words were often on Christ's lips. Like other teachers, He too\nhad His favourite sayings, the light of which He was wont to flash\ninto many dark places. Such a saying, for instance, was, 'To him\nthat hath shall be given.' Such a saying is this of my text; and\nprobably several other of our Lord's utterances, which are repeated\nmore than once in different Gospels, and have too hastily been\nsometimes assumed to have been introduced erroneously by the\nevangelists, in varying connections.\n\nThis half-proverb occurs four times in the Gospels, and in three\nvery different connections, pointing to three different subjects.\nHere, and once in John's Gospel, in the fifteenth chapter, it is\nemployed to enforce the lesson of the oneness of Christ and His\ndisciples in their relation to the world; and that His servants\ncannot expect to be better off than the Master was. 'If they have\ncalled Me Beelzebub they will not call you anything else.'\n\nThen in Luke's Gospel (vi. 40) it is employed to illustrate the\nprinciple that the scholar cannot expect to be wiser than his\nmaster; that a blind teacher will have blind pupils, and that they\nwill both fall into the ditch. Of course, the scholar may get beyond\nhis master, but then he will get up and go away from the school, and\nwill not be his scholar any longer. As long as he is a scholar, the\nbest that can happen to him, and that will not often happen, is to\nbe on the level of his teacher.\n\nThen in another place in John's Gospel (xiii. 16) the saying is\nemployed in reference to a different subject, viz. to teach the\nmeaning of the pathetic, symbolical foot-washing, and to enforce the\nexhortation to imitate Jesus Christ, as generally in conduct, so\nspecially in His wondrous humility. 'The servant is not greater than\nhis lord.' 'I have left you an example that ye should do as I have\ndone to you.'\n\nSo if we put these three instances together we get a threefold\nillustration of the relation between the disciple and the teacher,\nin respect to wisdom, conduct, and reception by the world. And these\nthree, with their bearing on the relation between Christians and\nJesus Christ, open out large fields of duty and of privilege. The\nvery centre of Christianity is discipleship, and the very highest\nhope, as well as the most imperative command which the Gospel brings\nto men is, 'Be like Him whom you profess to have taken as your\nMaster. Be like Him here, and you shall be like Him hereafter.'\n\nI. Likeness to the teacher in wisdom is the disciple's perfection.\n\n'If the blind lead the blind both shall fall into the ditch.' 'The\ndisciple is not greater than his master.' 'It is enough for the\ndisciple that he be as his master.' If that be a true principle,\nthat the best that can happen to the scholar is to tread in his\nteacher's footsteps, to see with his eyes, to absorb his wisdom, to\nlearn his truth, we may apply it in two opposite directions. First,\nit teaches us the limitations, and the misery, and the folly of\ntaking men for our masters; and then, on the other hand, it teaches\nus the large hope, the blessing, freedom, and joy of having Christ\nfor our Master.\n\nNow, first, look at the principle as bearing upon the relation of\ndisciple and human teacher. All such teachers have their\nlimitations. Each man has his little circle of favourite ideas that\nhe is perpetually reiterating. In fact, it seems as if one truth was\nabout as much as one teacher could manage, and as if, whensoever God\nhad any great truth to give to the world, He had to take one man and\nmake him its sole apostle. So that teachers become mere fragments,\nand to listen to them is to dwarf and narrow oneself.\n\nThe chances are that no scholar shall be on his master's level. The\neyes that see truth directly and for themselves in this world are\nvery few. Most men have to take truth at second-hand, and few indeed\nare they who, like a perfect medium, receive even the fragmentary\ntruth that human lips can impart to them, and transmit it as pure as\nthey receive it. Disciples present exaggerations, caricatures,\nmisconceptions, the limitations of the master becoming even more\nrigid in the pupil. Schools spring up which push the founder's\nteaching to extremes, and draw conclusions from it which he never\ndreamed of. Instead of a fresh voice, we have echoes, which, like\nall echoes, give only a syllable or two out of a sentence. Teachers\ncan tell what they see, but they cannot give their followers eyes,\nand so the followers can do little more than repeat what their\nleader said he saw. They are like the little suckers that spring up\nfrom the 'stool' of a cut-down tree, or like the kinglets among\nwhose feebler hands the great empire of an Alexander was divided at\nhis death.\n\nIt is a dwarfing thing to call any man master upon earth. And yet\nmen will give to a man the credence which they refuse to Christ. The\nfollowers of some of the fashionable teachers of to-day--Comte,\nSpencer, or others--protest, in the name of mental independence,\nagainst accepting Christ as the absolute teacher of morals and\nreligion, and then go away and put a man in the very place which\nthey have denied to Him, and swallow down his _dicta_ whole.\n\nSuch facts show how heart and mind crave a teacher; how discipleship\nis ingrained in our nature; how we all long for some one who shall\ncome to us authoritatively and say, 'Here is truth--believe it and\nlive on it.' And yet it is fatal to pin one's faith on any, and it\nis miserable to have to change guides perpetually and to feel that\nwe have outgrown those whom we reverence, and that we can look down\non the height which once seemed to touch the stars--and, if we cut\nourselves loose from all men's teaching, the isolation is dreary,\nand few of us are strong enough of arm, or clear enough of eye, to\nforce or find the path through the tangled jungles of error.\n\nSo take this thought, that the highest hope of a disciple is to be\nlike the master in wisdom, in its bearing on the relation between us\nand Christ, and look how it then flashes up into blessedness and\nbeauty.\n\nSuch a teacher as we have in Him has no limitations, and it is safe\nto follow Him absolutely and Him alone. All others have plainly\nborne the impress of their age, or their nation, or their\nidiosyncrasy, in some way or another; Christ Jesus is the only\nteacher that the world has ever heard of, in whose teaching there is\nno mark of the age or generation or set of circumstances in which it\noriginated. This water does not taste of any soil through which it\nhas passed, it has come straight down from Heaven, and is pure and\nuncontaminated as the Heaven from which it has come. This teacher is\nsafe to listen to absolutely: there are no limitations there; you\nnever hear Him arguing; there is no sign about His words as if He\nhad ever dug out for Himself the wisdom that He is proclaiming, or\nhad ever seen it less distinctly than He sees it at the moment. The\ngreat peculiarity of His teaching is that He does not reason, but\ndeclares that His 'Verily! Verily!' is the confirmation of all His\nmessage. His teaching is Himself; other men bring lessons about truth;\nHe says, 'I am the Truth.' Other teachers keep their personality in\nthe background; He clashes His down in the foreground. Other men say,\n'Listen to what I tell you, never mind about me.' He says, 'This is\nlife eternal, that ye should believe on Me.' This Teacher has His\nmessage level to all minds, high and low, wise and foolish, cultivated\nand rude. This Teacher does not only impart wisdom by words as from\nwithout, though He does that too, but He comes into men's spirits, and\ncommunicates Himself, and so makes them wise. Other teachers fumble at\nthe outside, but 'in the hidden parts He makes me to know wisdom.' So\nit is safe to take this Teacher absolutely, and to say, 'Thou art my\nMaster, Thy word is truth, and the opening of Thy lips to me is wisdom.'\n\nIn following Christ as our absolute Teacher, there is no sacrifice\nof independence or freedom of mind, but listening to Him is the way\nto secure these in their highest degree. We are set free from men,\nwe are growingly delivered from errors and misconceptions, in the\nmeasure in which we keep close to Christ as our Master. The Lord is\nthat Teacher, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there, and there\nonly, is liberty; freedom from self, from the dominion of popular\nopinion, from the coterie-speech of schools, from the imposing\nauthority of individuals, and from all that makes cowardly men say\nas other people say, and fall in with the majority; and freedom from\nour own prejudices and our own errors, which are cleared away when\nwe take Christ for our Master and cleave to Him.\n\nHis teaching can never cease until it has accomplished its purpose,\nand not until we have gathered into our consciousness all the truth\nthat He has to give, and have received all the wisdom that He can\nimpart unto us as to God and Himself, does His teaching cease. Here\nwe may grow indefinitely in the knowledge of Christ, and in the\nfuture we shall know even as we are known. His merciful teaching\nwill not come to a close till we have drunk in all His wisdom, and\ntill He has declared to us all which He has heard of the Father. He\nwill pass us from one form to another of His school, but in Heaven\nwe shall still be His scholars; 'Every one shall sit at Thy feet,\nevery one shall receive of Thy words.'\n\nSo, then, let us turn away from men, from rabbis and Sanhedrins,\nfrom authorities and schools, from doctors and churches. Why resort\nto cisterns when we may draw from the spring? Why listen to men when\nwe may hear Christ? He is, as Dante called the great Greek thinker,\n'the Master of those who know.' Why should we look to the planets\nwhen we can see the sun? 'Call no man master upon earth, for One is\nyour Master, and all ye are brethren.' And His merciful teaching\nwill never cease until 'everyone that is perfected shall be as his\nMaster.'\n\nII. Now, turn to the second application of this principle. Likeness\nto the Master in life is the law of a disciple's conduct.\n\nThat pathetic and wonderful story about the foot-washing in John's\nGospel is meant for a symbol. It is the presenting, in a picturesque\nform, of the very heart and essence of Christ's Incarnation in its\nmotive and purpose. The solemn prelude with which the evangelist\nintroduces it lays bare our Lord's heart and His reason for His\naction. 'Having loved His own, which were in the world, He loved\nthem to the end.' His motive, then, was love. Again, the exalted\nconsciousness which accompanied His self-abasement is made prominent\nin the words, 'Knowing that the Father had given all things into His\nhand, and that He was come from God and went to God.' And the\nmajestic deliberation and patient continuance in resolved humility\nwith which He goes down the successive steps of the descent, are\nwonderfully given in the evangelist's record of how He 'riseth from\nsupper, and laid aside His garments and girded Himself, and poured\nwater into the basin.' It is a parable. Thus, in the consciousness\nof His divine authority and dignity, and moved by His love to the\nwhole world, He laid aside the garments of His glory, and vested\nHimself with the towel of His humanity, the servant's garb, and took\nthe water of His cleansing power, and came to wash the feet of all\nwho will let Him cleanse them from their soil. And then, having\nreassumed His garments, He speaks from His throne to those who have\nbeen cleansed by His humiliation and His sacrifice, 'Know ye what I\nhave done to you? The servant is not greater than his lord.'\n\nThat is to say, dear brethren, in this one incident, which is the\ncondensation, so to speak, of the whole spirit of His life, is the\nlaw for our lives as well. We, too, are bound to that same love as\nthe main motive of all our actions; we, too, are bound to that same\nstripping off of dignity and lowly equalising of ourselves with\nthose below us whom we would help, and we, too, are bound to make it\nour main object, in our intercourse with men, not merely that we\nshould please nor enlighten them, nor succour their lower temporal\nneeds, but that we should cleanse them and make them pure with the\npurity that Christ gives.\n\nA Christian life all moved and animated by self-denuding love, and\nwhich came amongst men to make them better and purer, and all the\ninfluence of which tended in the direction of helping poor foul\nhearts to get rid of their filth, how different it would be from our\nlives! What a grim contrast much of our lives is to the Master's\nexample and command! Did you ever strip yourself of anything, my\nbrother, in order to make some poor, wretched creature a little\npurer and liker the Saviour? Did you ever drop your dignity and go\ndown to the low levels in order to lift up the people that were\nthere? Do men see anything of that example, as reproduced in your\nlives, of the Master that lays aside the garments of Heaven for the\nvesture of earth, and dies upon the Cross in order that He might\nmake our poor hearts purer and liker His own?\n\nBut, hard as such imitation is, it is only one case of a general\nprinciple. Discipleship is likeness to Jesus Christ in conduct.\nThere is no discipleship worth naming which does not, at least,\nattempt that likeness. What is the use of a man saying that he is\nthe disciple of Incarnate Love if his whole life is incarnate\nselfishness? What is the use of your calling yourselves Christians,\nand saying that you are followers of Jesus Christ, when He came to\ndo God's will and delighted in it, and you come to do your own, and\nnever do God's will at all, or scarcely at all, and then reluctantly\nand with many a murmur? What kind of a disciple is he, the habitual\ntenor of whose life contradicts the life of his Master and disobeys\nHis commandments? And I am bound to say that that is the life of an\nenormously large proportion of the professing disciples in this age\nof conventional Christianity.\n\n'The disciple shall be as his master.' Do you make it your effort to\nbe like Him? If so, then the saying is not only a law, but a\npromise, for it assures us that our effort shall not fail but\nprogressively succeed, and lead on at last to our becoming what we\nbehold, and being conformed to Him whom we love, and like the Master\nto whose wisdom we profess to listen. They whose earthly life is a\nfollowing of Christ, with faltering steps and afar off, shall have\nfor their heavenly blessedness, that they shall 'follow the Lamb\nwhithersoever He goeth.'\n\nIII. And now, lastly, likeness to the Master in relation to the\nworld is the fate that the disciple must put up with.\n\n'If they have called the master of the house Beelzebub, how much\nmore shall they call them of his household?' 'The disciple is not\nabove his master, nor the servant above his lord.' Our Lord\nreiterated the statement in another place in John's Gospel,\nreminding them that He had said it before.\n\nIf we are like Jesus Christ in conduct, and if we have received His\nWord as the truth upon which we repose, depend upon it, in our\nmeasure and in varying fashions, we shall have to bear the same kind\nof treatment that He received from the world. The days of so-called\npersecution are over in so-called Christian countries, but if you\nare a disciple in the sense of believing all that Jesus Christ says,\nand taking Him for your Teacher, the public opinion of this day will\nhave a great many things to say about you that will not be very\npleasant. You will be considered to be 'old-fashioned,' 'narrow,'\n'behind the times,' etc. etc. etc. Look at the bitter spirit of\nantagonism to an earnest and simple Christianity and adoption of\nChrist as our authoritative Teacher which goes through much of our\nhigh-class literature to-day. It is a very small matter as measured\nwith what Christian men used to have to bear; but it indicates the\nset of things. We may make up our minds that if we are not contented\nwith the pared-down Christianity which the world allows to pass at\npresent, but insist upon coming to the New Testament for our beliefs\nand practices, and avow--'I believe all that Jesus Christ says, and\nI believe it because He says it, and I take Him as my model'; we\nshall find out that the disciple has to be 'as his Master,' and that\nthe Pharisees and the Scribes of to-day stand in the same relation\nto the followers as their predecessors did to the Leader. If you are\nlike your Master in conduct, you will be no more popular with the\nworld than He was. As long as Christianity will be quiet, and let\nthe world go its own gait, the world is very well contented to let\nit alone, or even to say polite things to it. Why should the world\ntake the trouble of persecuting the kind of Christianity that so\nmany of us display? What is the difference between our Christianity\nand their worldliness? The world is quite willing to come to church\non Sundays, and to call itself a Christian world, if only it may\nlive as it likes. And many professing Christians have precisely the\nsame idea. They attend to the externals of Christianity, and call\nthemselves Christians, but they bargain for its having very little\npower over their lives. Why, then, should two sets of people who\nhave the same ideas and practices dislike each other? No reason at\nall! But let Christian men live up to their profession, and above\nall let them become aggressive, and try to attack the world's evil,\nas they are bound to do; let them fight drunkenness, let them go\nagainst the lust of great cities, let them preach peace in the face\nof a nation howling for war, let them apply the golden rules of\nChristianity to commerce and social relationships and the like, and\nyou will very soon hear a pretty shout that will tell you that the\ndisciple who is a disciple has to share the fate of the Master,\nnotwithstanding nineteen centuries of Christian teaching.\n\nIf you do not know what it is to find yourselves out of harmony with\nthe world, I am afraid it is because you have less of the Master's\nspirit than you have of the world's. The world loves its own. If you\nare not 'of the world, the world will hate you.' If it does not, it\nmust be because, in spite of your name, you belong to it.\n\nBut if we are like Him in our relation to the world, because we are\nlike Him in character, our very share in 'His reproach,' and our\nsense of being 'aliens' here, bear the promise that we shall be like\nHim in all worlds. His fortune is ours. 'The disciple shall be as\nhis master.' If we suffer with Him, we shall also reign with Him. No\ncross, no crown;--if cross, then crown! The end of discipleship is\nnot reached until the Master's image and the Master's lot are\nrepeated in the scholar.\n\nTake Christ for your sacrifice, trust to His blood, listen to His\nteaching, walk in His footsteps, and you shall share His sovereignty\nand sit on His throne. 'It is enough,'--ay! more than enough, and\nnothing less than that is enough,--'for the disciple that he be\n_as_'--and _with_--'his master.' 'I shall be satisfied when I awake in\nThy likeness.'\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE KING'S CHARGE TO HIS AMBASSADORS\n\n\n    'Whosoever therefore shall confess Me before men, him\n    will I confess also before My Father which is in heaven.\n    33. But whosoever shall deny Me before men, him will I\n    also deny before My Father which is in heaven. 34. Think\n    not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to\n    send peace, but a sword. 35. For I am come to set a man\n    at variance against his father, and the daughter against\n    her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother\n    in law. 36. And man's foes shall be they of his own\n    household. 37. He that loveth father or mother more than\n    Me is not worthy of Me: and he that loveth son or\n    daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me. 38. And he\n    that taketh not his cross, and followeth after Me, is\n    not worthy of Me. 39. He that findeth his life shall\n    lose it: and he that loseth his life for My sake shall\n    find it 40. He that receiveth you receiveth Me, and he\n    that receiveth Me receiveth Him that sent Me. 41. He\n    that receiveth a prophet in the name of a prophet shall\n    receive a prophet's reward; and he that receiveth a\n    righteous man in the name of a righteous man shall\n    receive a righteous man's reward. 42. And whosoever\n    shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup\n    of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I\n    say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward.'\n    --MATT. x. 32-42.\n\nThe first mission of the apostles, important as it was, was but a\nshort flight to try the young birds' wings. The larger portion of\nthis charge to them passes far beyond the immediate occasion, and\ndeals with the permanent relations of Christ's servants to the world\nin which they live, for the purpose of bringing it into subjection\nto its true King. These solemn closing words, which make our present\nsubject, contain the duty and blessedness of confessing Him, the vision\nof the antagonisms which He excites, His demand for all-surrendering\nfollowing, and the rewards of those who receive Christ's messengers,\nand therein receive Himself and His Father.\n\nI. The duty and blessedness of confessing Him (vs. 32, 33). The\n'therefore' is significant. It attaches the promise which follows to\nthe immediately preceding thoughts of a watchful, fatherly care,\nextending like a great invisible hand over the true disciple.\nBecause each is thus guarded, each shall be preserved to receive the\nhonour of being confessed by Christ. No matter what may befall His\nwitnesses, the extremest disaster shall not rob them of their reward.\nThey may be flung down from the house-tops where they lift up their\nbold voices, but He who does not let a sparrow fall to the ground\nuncared for, will give His angels charge concerning them who are so\nmuch more precious, and they shall be borne up on outstretched wings,\nlest they be dashed on the pavement below. Thus preserved, they shall\nall attain at last to their guerdon. Nothing can come between Christ's\nservant and his crown. The tender providence of the Father, whose\nmercy is over all His works, makes sure of that. The river of the\nconfessor's life may plunge underground, and be lost amid persecutions,\nbut it will emerge again into the brighter sunshine on the other side\nof the mountains.\n\nThe confession which is to be thus rewarded, like the denial opposed\nto it, is, of course, not merely a single utterance of the lip. So\nfar Judas Iscariot confessed Christ, and Peter denied Him. But it is\nthe habitual acknowledgment by lip and life, unwithdrawn to the end.\nThe context implies that the confession is maintained in the face of\nopposition, and that the denial is a cowardly attempt to save one's\nskin at the cost of treason to Jesus. The temptation does not come\nin that sharpest form to us. Perhaps some cowards would be made\nbrave if it did. It is perhaps easier to face the gibbet and the\nfire, and screw oneself up for once to a brief endurance, than to\nresist the more specious blandishments of the world, especially when\nit has been christened, and calls itself religious. The light laugh\nof scorn, the silent pressure of the low average of Christian\ncharacter, the close associations in trade, literature, public and\ndomestic life which Christians have with non-Christians, make many a\nman's tongue lie silent, to the sore detriment of his own religious\nlife. 'Ye have not yet resisted unto blood,' and find it hard to\nfulfil the easier conflict to which you are called. The sun has more\npower than the tempest to make the pilgrim drop his garment. But the\nduty remains the same for all ages. Every man is bound to make the\ndeepest springs of his life visible, and to stand to his\nconvictions, whatever they be. If he do not, his convictions will\ndisappear like a piece of ice hid in a hot hand, which will melt and\ntrickle away. This obligation lies with infinitely increased weight\non Christ's servants; and the consequences of failing to discharge\nit are more tragic in their cases, in the exact proportion of the\ngreater preciousness of their faith. Corn hoarded is sure to be\nspoiled by weevils and rust. The bread of life hidden in our sacks\nwill certainly go mouldy.\n\nThe reward and punishment of confession and denial come to them not\nas separate acts, but as each being the revelation of the spiritual\ncondition of the doers. Christ implies that a true disciple cannot\nbut be a confessor, and that therefore the denier must certainly be\none whom He has never known. Because, therefore, each act is\nsymptomatic of the doer, each receives the congruous and\ncorrespondent reward. The confessor is confessed; the denier is\ndenied. What calm and assured consciousness of His place as Judge\nunderlies these words! His recognition is God's acceptance; His\ndenial is darkness and misery. The correspondence between the work\nand the reward is beautifully brought out by the use of the same\nword to express each. And yet what a difference between our\nconfession of Him and His of us! And what a hope is here for all who\nhave tremblingly, and in the consciousness of much unworthiness,\nventured to say that they were Christ's subjects, and He their King,\nbrother, and all! Their poor, feeble confession will be endorsed by\nHis. He will say, 'Yes, this man is mine, and I am his.' That will\nbe glory, honour, blessedness, life, heaven.\n\nII. The vision of the discord which follows the coming of the King\nof peace. It is not enough to interpret these words as meaning that\nour Lord's purpose indeed was to bring peace, but that the result of\nHis coming was strife. The ultimate purpose is peace; but an\nimmediate purpose is conflict, as the only road to the peace. He is\nfirst King of righteousness, and after that also King of peace. But,\nif His kingdom be righteousness, purity, love, then unrighteousness,\nfilthiness, and selfishness will fight against it for their lives.\nThe ultimate purpose of Christ's coming is to transform the world\ninto the likeness of heaven; and all in the world which hates such\nlikeness is embattled against Him. He saw realities, and knew men's\nhearts, and was under no illusion, such as many an ardent reformer\nhas cherished, that the fair form of truth need only be shown to\nmen, and they will take her to their hearts. Incessant struggle is\nthe law for the individual and for society till Christ's purpose for\nboth is realised.\n\nThat conflict ranges the dearest in opposite ranks. The gospel is\nthe great solvent. As when a substance is brought into contact with\nsome chemical compound, which has greater affinity for one of its\nelements than the other element has, the old combination is\ndissolved, and a new and more stable one is formed, so Christianity\nanalyses and destroys in order to synthesis and construction. In\nverse 21 our Lord had foretold that brother should deliver up\nbrother to death. Here the severance is considered from the opposite\nside. The persons who are 'set at variance' with their kindred are\nhere Christians. Perhaps it is fanciful to observe that they are all\njunior members of families, as if the young would be more likely to\nflock to the new light. But however that may be, the separation is\nmutual, but the hate is all on one side. The 'man's foes' are of his\nown household; but he is not their foe, though he be parted from\nthem.\n\nIII. Earthly love may be a worse foe to a true Christian than even\nthe enmity of the dearest; and that enmity may often be excited by\nthe Christian subordination of earthly to heavenly love. So our Lord\npasses from the warnings of discord and hate to the danger of the\nopposite--undue love.\n\nHe claims absolute supremacy in our hearts. He goes still farther,\nand claims the surrender, not only of affections, but of self and\nlife to Him. What a strange claim this is! A Jewish peasant, dead\nnineteen hundred years since, fronts the whole race of man, and\nasserts His right to their love, which is strange, and to their\nsupreme love, which is stranger still. Why should we love Him at\nall, if He were only a man, however pure and benevolent? We may\nadmire, as we do many another fair nature in the past; but is there\nany possibility of evoking anything as warm as love to an unseen\nperson, who can have had no knowledge of or love to us? And why\nshould we love Him more than our dearest, from whom we have drawn,\nor to whom we have given, life? What explanation or justification\ndoes He give of this unexampled demand? Absolutely none. He seems to\nthink that its reasonableness needs no elucidation. Surely never did\nteacher professing wisdom, modesty, and, still more, religion, put\nforward such a claim of right; and surely never besides did any\nsucceed in persuading generations unborn to yield His demand, when\nthey heard it. The strangest thing in the world's history is that\nto-day there are millions who do love Jesus Christ more than all\nbesides, and whose chief self-accusation is that they do not love\nHim more. The strange, audacious claim is most reasonable, if we\nbelieve that Jesus is the Son of God, who died for each of us, and\nthat each man and woman to the last of the generations had a\nseparate place in His divine human love when He died. It is meet to\nlove Him, if that be true; it is not, unless it be. The requirement\nis as stringent as strange. If the two ever seem to conflict, the\nearthly must give way. If the earthly be withdrawn, there must be\nfound sufficiency for comfort and peace in the heavenly. The lower\nmust not be permitted to hinder the flight of the heavenly to its\nhome. 'More than Me' is a rebuke to most of us. What a contrast\nbetween the warmth of our earthly and the tepidity or coldness of\nour heavenly love! How spontaneously our thoughts, when left free,\nturn to the one; how hard we find it to keep them fixed on the\nother! How sweet service is to the dear ones here; how reluctantly\nit is given to Christ! How we long, when parted, to rejoin them; how\nlittle we are drawn to the place where He is! We have all to confess\nthat we are 'not worthy of' Him; that we requite His love with\ninadequate returns, and live lives which tax His love for its\nhighest exercise, the free forgiveness of sins against itself.\nCompliance with that stringent law, and subordinating all earthly\nlove to His, is the true elevating and ennobling of the earthly. It\nis promoted, not degraded, when it is made second, and is infinitely\nsweeter and deeper then than when it was set in the place of\nsupremacy, where it had no right to be.\n\nBut Christ's demand is not only for the surrender of the heart, but\nfor the giving up of self, and, in a very profound sense, for the\nsurrender of life. How enigmatical that saying about taking up the\ncross must have sounded to the disciples! They knew little about the\ncross, as a punishment; they had not yet associated it in any way\nwith their Lord. This seems to have been the first occasion of His\nmentioning it, and the allusion is so veiled as to be but partially\nintelligible. But what was intelligible was bewildering. A strange\nroyal procession that, of the King with a cross on His shoulder, and\nall His subjects behind Him with similar burdens! Through the ages\nthat procession has marched, and it marches still. Self-denial for\nChrist's sake is 'the badge of all our tribe.' Observe that word\n'take.' The cross must be willingly and by ourselves assumed. No\nother can lay it on our shoulders. Observe that other word 'his.'\nEach man has his own special form in which self-denial is needful\nfor him. We require pure eyes, and hearts kept in very close\ncommunion with Jesus, to ascertain what our particular cross is. He\nhas them of many patterns, shapes, sizes, and materials. We can\nalways make sure of strength to carry the one which He means us to\ncarry, but not of strength to bear what is not ours.\n\nIV. We have the rewards of those who receive Christ's messengers,\nand therein receive Him and His Father. Our Lord first identifies\nthese twelve with Himself in a manner which must have sounded\nstrange to them then, but have heartened them for their work by the\nconsciousness of His mysterious oneness with them. The whole\ndoctrine of Christ's unity with His people lay in germ in these\nwords, though much more was needed, both of teaching and of\nexperience, before their depth of blessing and strengthening could\nbe apprehended. _We_ know that He dwells in His true subjects\nby His Spirit, and that a most real union subsists between the head\nand the members, of which the closest unions of earth are but faint\nshadows, so as that not only those who receive His followers receive\nHim, but, more wonderful still, His followers are received at the\nlast by God Himself as joined to Him, and portions of His very self,\nand therefore 'accepted in the Beloved.' Our Lord adds to these\nwords the thought that, in like manner, to receive Him is to receive\nthe Father, and so implies that our relation to Him is in certain\nreal respects parallel with His relation to the Father. We too are\nsent. He who sends abides with us, as the Son ever abode in God, and\nGod in Him. We are sent to be the brightness of Christ's glory, and\nto manifest Him to men, as He was sent to reveal the Father.\n\n\n\n\nA LIFE LOST AND FOUND\n[Footnote: Preached after the funeral of Mr. F. W. Crossley.]\n\n\n    'He that loseth his life for My sake shall find it.'\n    --MATT. x. 39.\n\nMy heart impels me to break this morning my usual rule of avoiding\npersonal references in the pulpit. Death has been busy in our own\ncongregation this last week, and yesterday we laid in the grave all\nthat was mortal of a man to whom Manchester owes more than it knows.\nMr. Crossley has been for thirty years my close and dear friend. He\nwas long a member of this church and congregation. I need not speak\nof his utter unselfishness, of his lifelong consecration, of his\nlavish generosity, of his unstinted work for God and man; but\nthinking of him and of it, I have felt as if the words of my text\nwere the secret of his life, and as if he now understood the fulness\nof the promise they contain: 'He that loseth his life for My sake\nshall find it.' Now, looking at these words in the light of the\nexample so tenderly beloved by some of us, so sharply criticised by\nmany, but now so fully recognised as saintly by all, I ask you to\nconsider--\n\nI. The stringent requirement for the Christian life that is here\nmade.\n\nNow we shall very much impoverish the meaning and narrow the sweep\nof these great and penetrating words, if we understand by 'losing\none's life' only the actual surrender of physical existence. It is\nnot only the martyr on whose bleeding brows the crown of life is\ngently placed; it is not only the temples that have been torn by the\ncrown of thorns, that are soothed by that unfading wreath; but there\nis a daily dying, which is continually required from all Christian\npeople, and is, perhaps, as hard as, or harder than, the brief and\nbloody passage of martyrdom by which some enter into rest. For the\ntrue losing of life is the slaying of self, and that has to be done\nday by day, and not once for all, in some supreme act of surrender\nat the end, or in some initial act of submission and yielding at the\nbeginning, of the Christian life. We ourselves have to take the\nknife into our own hands and strike, and that not once, but ever,\nright on through our whole career. For, by natural disposition, we\nare all inclined to make our own selves to be our own centres, our\nown aims, the objects of our trust, our own law; and if we do so, we\nare dead whilst we live, and the death that brings life is when, day\nby day, we 'crucify the old man with his affections and lusts.'\nCrucifixion was no sudden death; it was an exquisitely painful one,\nwhich made every nerve quiver and the whole frame thrill with\nanguish; and that slow agony, in all its terribleness and\nprotractedness, is the image that is set before us as the true ideal\nof every life that would not be a living death. The world is to be\ncrucified to me, and I to the world.\n\nWe have our centre in ourselves, and we need the centre to be\nshifted, or we live in sin. If I might venture upon so violent an\nimage, the comets that career about the heavens need to be caught\nand tamed, and bound to peaceful revolution round some central sun,\nor else they are 'wandering stars to whom is reserved the blackness\nof darkness for ever.' So, brethren, the slaying of self by a\npainful, protracted process, is the requirement of Christ.\n\nBut do not let us confine ourselves to generalities. What is meant?\nThis is meant--the absolute submission of the will to commandments\nand providences, the making of that obstinate part of our nature\nmeek and obedient and plastic as the clay in the potter's hands. The\ntanner takes a stiff hide, and soaks it in bitter waters, and\ndresses it with sharp tools, and lubricates it with unguents, and\nhis work is not done till all the stiffness is out of it and it is\nflexible. And we do not lose our lives in the lofty, noble sense,\nuntil we can say--and verify the speech by our actions--'Not my will\nbut Thine be done.' They who thus submit, they who thus welcome into\ntheir hearts, and enthrone upon the sovereign seat in their wills,\nChrist and His will--these are they who have lost their lives. When\nwe can say, 'I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me,' then, and\nonly then, have we in the deepest sense of the words 'lost our\nlives.'\n\nThe phrase means the suppression, and sometimes the excision, of\nappetites, passions, desires, inclinations. It means the hallowing\nof all aims; it means the devotion and the consecration of all\nactivities. It means the surrender and the stewardship of all\npossessions. And only then, when we have done these things, shall we\nhave come to practical obedience to the initial requirement that\nChrist makes from us all--to lose our lives for His sake.\n\nI need not diverge here to point to that life from which my thoughts\nhave taken their start in this sermon. Surely if there was any one\ncharacteristic in it more distinct and lovely than another, it was\nthat self was dead and that Christ lived. There may be sometimes a\ncall for the actual--which is the lesser--surrender of the bodily\nlife, in obedience to the call of duty. There have been Christian\nmen who have wrought themselves to death in the Master's service.\nPerhaps he of whom I have been speaking was one of these. It may be\nthat, if he had done like so many of our wealthy men--had flung\nhimself into business and then collapsed into repose--he would have\nbeen here to-day. Perhaps it would have been better if there had\nbeen a less entire throwing of himself into arduous and clamant\nduties. I am not going to enter on the ethics of that question. I do\nnot think there are many of this generation of Christians who are\nlikely to work themselves to death in Christ's cause; and perhaps,\nafter all, the old saying is a true one, 'Better to wear out than to\nrust out.' But only this I will say: we honour the martyrs of\nScience, of Commerce, of Empire, why should not we honour the\nmartyrs of Faith? And why should they be branded as imprudent\nenthusiasts, if they make the same sacrifice which, when an explorer\nor a soldier makes, his memory is honoured as heroic, and his cold\nbrows are crowned with laurels? Surely it is as wise to die for\nChrist as for England. But be that as it may; the requirement, the\nstringent requirement, of my text is not addressed to any spiritual\naristocracy, but is laid upon the consciences of all professing\nChristians.\n\nII. Observe the grounds of this requirement.\n\nDid you ever think--or has the fact become so familiar to you that\nit ceases to attract notice?--did you ever think what an\nextraordinary position it is for the son of a carpenter in Nazareth\nto plant Himself before the human race and say, 'You will be wise if\nyou die for My sake, and you will be doing nothing more than your\nplain duty'? What business has He to assume such a position as that?\nWhat warrants that autocratic and all-demanding tone from His lips?\n'Who art Thou'--we may fancy people saying--'that Thou shouldst put\nout a masterful hand and claim to take as Thine the life of my\nheart?' Ah! brethren, there is but one answer: 'Who loved me, and\ngave Himself for me.' The foolish, loving, impulsive apostle that\nblurted out, before his time had come, 'I will lay down my life for\nThy sake,' was only premature; he was not mistaken. There needed\nthat His Lord should lay down His life for Peter's sake; and then He\nhad a right to turn to the apostle and say, 'Thou shalt follow Me\nafterwards,' and 'lay down thy life for My sake.' The ground of\nChrist's unique claim is Christ's solitary sacrifice. He who has\ndied for men, and He only, has the right to require the unconditional,\nthe absolute surrender of themselves, not only in the sacrifice of a\nlife that is submitted, but, if circumstances demand, in the sacrifice\nof a death. The ground of the requirement is laid, first in the fact\nof our Lord's divine nature, and second, in the fact that He who asks\nmy life has first of all given His.\n\nBut that same phrase, 'for My sake,' suggests--\n\nIII. The all-sufficient motive which makes such a loss of life\npossible.\n\nI suppose that there is nothing else that will wholly dethrone self\nbut the enthroning of Jesus Christ. That dominion is too deeply\nrooted to be abolished by any enthusiasms, however noble they may\nbe, except the one that kindles its undying torch at the flame of\nChrist's own love. God forbid that I should deny that wonderful and\nlovely instances of self-oblivion may be found in hearts untouched\nby the supreme love of Christ! But whilst I recognise all the beauty\nof such, I, for my part, humbly venture to believe and assert that,\nfor the entire deliverance of a man from self-regard, the one\nsufficient motive power is the reception into his opening heart of\nthe love of Jesus Christ.\n\nAh! brethren, you and I know how hard it is to escape from the\ntyrannous dominion of self, and how the evil spirits that have taken\npossession of us mock at all lesser charms than the name which\n'devils fear and fly'; 'the Name that is above every name.' We have\ntried other motives. We have sought to reprove our selfishness by\nother considerations. Human love--which  itself is sometimes only\nthe love of self, seeking satisfaction from another--human love does\nconquer it, but yet conquers it partially. The demons turn round\nupon all other would-be exorcists, and say, 'Jesus we know ... but\nwho are ye?' It is only when the Ark is carried into the Temple that\nDagon falls prone before it. If you would drive self out of your\nhearts--and if you do not it will slay you--if you would drive self\nout, let Christ's love and sacrifice come in. And then, what no\nbrooms and brushes, no spades nor wheelbarrows, will ever do--namely,\ncleanse out the filth that lodges there--the turning of the river in\nwill do, and float it all away. The one possibility for complete,\nconclusive deliverance from the dominion and tyranny of Self is to\nbe found in the words 'For My sake.' Ah! brethren, I suppose there\nare none of us so poor in earthly love, possessed or remembered, but\nthat we know the omnipotence of these words when whispered by beloved\nlips, 'For My sake'; and Jesus Christ is saying them to us all.\n\nIV. Lastly, notice the recompense of the stringent requirement.\n\n'Shall find it,' and that finding, like the losing, has a twofold\nreference and accomplishment: here and now, yonder and then.\n\nHere and now, no man possesses himself till he has given himself to\nJesus Christ. Only then, when we put the reins into His hands, can we\ncoerce and guide the fiery steeds of passion and of impulse, And so\nScripture, in more than one place, uses a remarkable expression, when\nit speaks of those that believe to the 'acquiring of their souls.'\nYou are not your own masters until you are Christ's servants; and\nwhen you fancy yourselves to be most entirely your own masters, you\nhave promised yourselves liberty and have become the slave of\ncorruption. So if you would own yourselves, give yourselves away. And\nsuch an one 'shall find' his life, here and now, in that all earthly\nthings will be sweeter and better. The altar sanctifies the gift.\nWhen some pebble is plunged into a sunlit stream, the water brings\nout the veined colourings of the stone that looked all dull and dim\nwhen it was lying upon the bank. Fling your whole being, your wealth,\nyour activities, and everything, into that stream, and they will\nflash in splendour else unknown. Did not my friend, of whom I have\nbeen speaking, enjoy his wealth far more, when he poured it out like\nwater upon good causes, than if he had spent it in luxury and\nself-indulgence? And shall we not find that everything is sweeter,\nnobler, better, fuller of capacity to delight, if we give it all to\nour Master? The stringent requirement of Christ is the perfection of\nprudence. 'Who pleasure follows pleasure slays,' and who slays\npleasure finds a deeper and a holier delight. The keenest\nepicureanism could devise no better means for sucking the last drop\nof sweetness out of the clustering grapes of the gladnesses of\nearth than to obey this stringent requirement, and so realise the\nblessed promise, 'Whoso loseth his life for My sake shall find it.'\nThe selfish man is a roundabout fool. The self-devoted man, the\nChrist-enthroning man, is the wise man.\n\nAnd there will be the further finding hereafter, about which we\ncannot speak. Only remember, how in a passage parallel with this of\nmy text, spoken when almost within sight of Calvary, our Lord laid\ndown not only the principle of His own life but the principle for\nall His servants, when He said, 'Except a corn of wheat fall into\nthe ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth\nforth much fruit.' The solitary grain dropped into the furrow brings\nforth a waving harvest. We may not, we need not, particularise, but\nthe life that is found at last is as the fruit an hundredfold of the\nlife that men called 'lost' and God called 'sown.'\n\n'Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord; they rest from their\nlabours, and their works do follow them.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREATEST IN THE KINGDOM, AND THEIR REWARD\n\n\n    'He that receiveth a prophet in the name of a prophet\n    shall receive a prophet's reward; and he that receiveth\n    a righteous man in the name of a righteous man shall\n    receive a righteous man's reward. 42. And whosoever\n    shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup\n    of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I\n    say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward.'\n    --MATT. x. 41, 42.\n\n There is nothing in these words to show whether they refer to the\npresent or to the future. We shall probably not go wrong if we\nregard them as having reference to both. For all godliness has\n'promise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to\ncome,' and '_in_ keeping God's commandments,' as well as _for_\nkeeping them, 'there is great reward,' a reward realised in the\npresent, even although Death holds the keys of the treasure-house\nin which the richest rewards are stored. No act of holy obedience\nis here left without foretastes of joy, which, though they be but\n'brooks by the way,' contain the same water of life which hereafter\nswells to an ocean.\n\nSome people tell us that it is defective morality in Christianity to\nbribe men to be good by promising them Heaven, and that he who is\nactuated by such a motive is selfish. Now that fantastic and\noverstrained objection may be very simply answered by two\nconsiderations: self-regard is not selfishness, and Christianity\ndoes not propose the future reward as the motive for goodness. The\nmotive for goodness is love to Jesus Christ; and if ever there was a\nman who did acts of Christian goodness only for the sake of what he\nwould get by them, the acts were not Christian goodness, because the\nmotive was wrong. But it is a piece of fastidiousness to forbid us\nto reinforce the great Christian motive, which is love to Jesus\nChrist, by the thought of the recompense of reward. It is a stimulus\nand an encouragement of, not the motive for, goodness. This text\nshows us that it is a subordinate motive, for it says that the\nreception of a prophet, or of a righteous man, or of 'one of these\nlittle ones,' which is rewardable, is the reception 'in the name of'\na prophet, a disciple, and so on, or, in other words, is the\nrecognising of the prophet, or the righteous man, or the disciple\nfor what he is, and because he is that, and not because of the\nreward, receiving him with sympathy and solace and help.\n\nSo, with that explanation, let us look at these very remarkable\nwords of our text.\n\nI. The first thing which I wish to observe in them is the three\nclasses of character which are dealt with--'prophet,' 'righteous\nman,' 'these little ones.'\n\nNow the question that I would suggest is this: Is there any meaning\nin the order in which these are arranged? If so, what is it? Do we\nbegin at the bottom, or at the top? Have we to do with an ascending\nor with a descending scale? Is the prophet thought to be greater\nthan the righteous man, or less? Is the righteous man thought to be\nhigher than the little one, or to be lower? The question is an\nimportant one, and worth considering.\n\nNow, at first sight, it certainly does look as if we had here to do\nwith a descending scale, as if we began at the top and went\ndownwards. A prophet, a man honoured with a distinct commission from\nGod to declare His will, is, in certain very obvious respects,\nloftier than a man who is not so honoured, however pure and\nrighteous he may be. The dim and venerable figures, for instance, of\nIsaiah and Jeremiah, tower high above all their contemporaries; and\ngodly men who hung upon their lips, like Baruch on Jeremiah's, felt\nthemselves to be, and were, inferior to them. And, in like manner,\nthe little child who believes in Christ may seem to be insignificant\nin comparison with the prophet with his God-touched lips, or the\nrighteous man of the old dispensation with his austere purity; as a\nhumble violet may seem by the side of a rose with its heart of fire,\nor a white lily regal and tall. But one remembers that Jesus Christ\nHimself declared that 'the least of the little ones' was greater\nthan the greatest who had gone before; and it is not at all likely\nthat He who has just been saying that whosoever received His\nfollowers received Himself, should classify these followers beneath\nthe righteous men of old. The Christian type of character is\ndistinctly higher than the Old Testament type; and the humblest\nbeliever is blessed above prophets and righteous men because his\neyes behold and his heart welcomes the Christ.\n\nTherefore I am inclined to believe that we have here an ascending\nseries--that we begin at the bottom and not at the top; that the\nprophet is less than the righteous man, and the righteous man less\nthan the little one who believes in Christ. For, suppose there were\na prophet who was not righteous, and a righteous man who was not a\nprophet. Suppose the separation between the two characters were\ncomplete, which of them would be the greater? Balaam was a prophet;\nBalaam was not a righteous man; Balaam was immeasurably inferior to\nthe righteous whose lives he did not emulate, though he could not\nbut envy their deaths. In like manner the humblest believer in Jesus\nChrist has something that a prophet, if he is not a disciple, does\nnot possess; and that which he has, and the prophet has not, is\nhigher than the endowment that is peculiar to the prophet alone.\n\nMay we say the same thing about the difference between the righteous\nman and the disciple? Can there be a righteous man that is not a\ndisciple? Can there be a disciple that is not a righteous man? Can\nthe separation between these two classes be perfect and complete?\nNo! in the profoundest sense, certainly not. But then at the time\nwhen Christ spoke there were some men standing round Him, who, 'as\ntouching the righteousness which is of the law,' were 'blameless.'\nAnd there are many men to-day, with much that is noble and admirable\nin their characters, who stand apart from the faith that is in Jesus\nChrist; and if the separation be so complete as that, then it is to\nbe emphatically and decisively pronounced that, if we have regard to\nall that a man ought to be, and if we estimate men in the measure in\nwhich they approximate to that ideal in their lives and conduct,\n'the Christian is the highest style of man.' The disciple is above\nthe righteous men adorned with many graces of character, who, if\nthey are not Christians, have a worm at the root of all their\ngoodness, because it lacks the supreme refinement and consecration\nof faith; and above the fiery-tongued prophet, if he is not a\ndisciple.\n\nNow, brethren, this thought is full of very important practical\ninferences. Faith is better than genius. Faith is better than\nbrilliant gifts. Faith is better than large acquirements. The poet's\nimagination, the philosopher's calm reasoning, the orator's tongue\nof fire, even the inspiration of men that may have their lips\ntouched to proclaim God to their brethren, are all less than the\nbond of living trust that knits a soul to Jesus Christ, and makes it\nthereby partaker of that indwelling Saviour. And, in like manner, if\nthere be men, as there are, and no doubt some of them among my\nhearers, adorned with virtues and graces of character, but who have\nnot rested their souls on Jesus Christ, then high above these, too,\nstands the lowliest person who has set his faith and love on that\nSaviour. Neither intellectual endowments nor moral character are the\nhighest, but faith in Jesus Christ. A man may be endowed with all\nbrilliancy of intellect and fair with many beauties of character,\nand he may be lost; and on the other hand simple faith, rudimentary\nand germlike as it often is, carries in itself the prophecy of all\ngoodness, and knits a man to the source of all blessedness. 'Whether\nthere be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it\nshall vanish away. Now abideth these three, faith, hope, charity.'\n'Rejoice not that the spirits are subject unto you, but rather\nrejoice because your names are written in Heaven.'\n\nAh! brethren, if we believed in Christ's classification of men, and\nin the order of importance and dignity in which He arranges them, it\nwould make a wonderful practical difference to the lives, to the\ndesires, and to the efforts of a great many of us. Some of you\nstudents, young men and women that are working at college or your\nclasses, if you believed that it was better to trust in Jesus Christ\nthan to be wise, and gave one-tenth, ay! one-hundredth part of the\nattention and the effort to secure the one which you do to secure\nthe other, would be different people. 'Not many wise men after the\nflesh,' but humble trusters in Jesus Christ, are the victors in the\nworld. Believe you that, and order your lives accordingly.\n\nOh! what a reversal of this world's estimates is coming one day,\nwhen the names that stand high in the roll of fame shall pale, like\nphotographs that have been shut up in a portfolio, and when you take\nthem out have faded off the paper. 'The world knows nothing of its\ngreatest men,' but there is a time coming when the spurious mushroom\naristocracy that the world has worshipped will be forgotten, like\nthe nobility of some conquered land, who are brushed aside and\nrelegated to private life by the new nobility of the conquerors, and\nwhen the true nobles, God's aristocrats, the righteous, who are\nrighteous because they have trusted in Christ, shall shine forth\nlike the sun 'in the Kingdom of My Father.'\n\nHere is the climax: gifts and endowments at the bottom, character\nand morality in the middle, and at the top faith in Jesus Christ.\n\nII. Now notice briefly in the second place the variety of the reward\naccording to the character.\n\nThe prophet has his, the righteous man has his, the little one has\nhis. That is to say, each level of spiritual or moral stature\nreceives its own prize. There is no difficulty in seeing that this\nis so in regard to the rewards of this life. Every faithful message\ndelivered by a prophet increases that prophet's own blessedness, and\nhas joys in the receiving of it from God, in the speaking of it to\nmen, in the marking of its effects as it spreads through the world,\nwhich belong to him alone. In all these, and in many other ways, the\n'prophet' has rewards that no stranger can intermeddle with. All\ncourses of obedient conduct have their own appropriate consequences\nand satisfaction. Every character is adapted to receive, and does\nreceive, in the measure of its goodness, certain blessings and joys,\nhere and now. 'Surely the righteous shall be recompensed in the\nearth.'\n\nAnd the same principle, of course, applies if we think of the reward\nas altogether future. It must be remembered, however, that\nChristianity does not teach, as I believe, that if there be a\nprophet or a righteous man who is not a disciple, that prophet or\nrighteous man will get rewards in the future life. It must be\nremembered, too, that every disciple is righteous in the measure of\nhis faith. Discipleship being presupposed, then the disciple who is\na prophet will have one reward, and the disciple who is a righteous\nman shall have another; and where all three characteristics\ncoincide, there shall be a triple crown of glory upon his head.\n\nThat is all plain and obvious enough, if only we get rid of the\nprejudice that the rewards of a future life are merely bestowed upon\nmen by God's arbitrary good pleasure. What is the reward of Heaven?\n'Eternal life,' people say. Yes! 'Blessedness.' Yes! But where does\nthe life come from, and where does the blessedness come from? They\nare both derived, they come from God in Christ; and in the deepest\nsense, and in the only true sense, God is Heaven, and God is the\nreward of Heaven. 'I am thy shield,' so long as dangers need to be\nguarded against, and then, thereafter, 'I am thine exceeding great\nReward.' It is the possession of God that makes all the Heaven of\nHeaven, the immortal life which His children receive, and the\nblessedness with which they are enraptured. We are heirs of\nimmortality, we are heirs of life, we are heirs of blessedness,\nbecause, and in the measure in which, we become heirs of God.\n\nAnd if that be so, then there is no difficulty in seeing that in\nHeaven, as on earth, men will get just as much of God as they can\nhold; and that in Heaven, as on earth, capacity for receiving God is\ndetermined by character. The gift is one, the reward is one, and yet\nthe reward is infinitely various. It is the same light which glows\nin all the stars, but 'star differeth from star in glory.' It is the\nsame wine, the new wine of the Kingdom, that is poured into all the\nvessels, but the vessels are of divers magnitudes, though each be\nfull to the brim.\n\nAnd so in those two sister parables of our Master's, which are so\nremarkably discriminated and so remarkably alike, we have both these\naspects of the Heavenly reward set forth--both that which declares\nits identity in all cases, and the other which declares its variety\naccording to the recipient's character. All the servants receive the\nsame welcome, the same prize, the same entrance into the same joy;\nalthough one of them had ten talents, and another five, and another\ntwo. But the servants who were each sent out to trade with one poor\npound in their hands, and by their varying diligence reaped varying\nprofits, were rewarded according to the returns that they had\nbrought; and one received ten, and the other five, and the other\ntwo, cities over which to have authority and rule. So the reward is\none, and yet infinitely diverse. It is not the same thing whether a\nman or a woman, being a Christian, is an earnest, and devoted, and\ngrowing Christian here on earth, or a selfish, and an idle, and a\nstagnant one. It is not the same thing whether you content\nyourselves with simply laying hold on Christ, and keeping a\ntremulous and feeble hold of Him for the rest of your lives, or\nwhether you grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Saviour.\nThere is such a fate as being saved, yet so as by fire, and going\ninto the brightness with the smell of the fire on your garments.\nThere is such a fate as having just, as it were, squeezed into\nHeaven, and got there by the skin of your teeth. And there is such a\nthing as having an abundant entrance ministered, when its portals\nare thrown wide open. Some imperfect Christians die with but little\ncapacity for possessing God, and therefore their heaven will not be\nas bright, nor studded with as majestic constellations, as that of\nothers. The starry vault that bends above us so far away, is the\nsame in the number of its stars when gazed on by the savage with his\nunaided eye, and by the astronomer with the strongest telescope; and\nthe Infinite God, who arches above us, but comes near to us,\ndiscloses galaxies of beauty and oceans of abysmal light in Himself,\naccording to the strength and clearness of the eye that looks upon\nHim. So, brethren, remember that the one glory has infinite degrees;\nand faith, and conduct, and character here determine the capacity\nfor God which we shall have when we go to receive our reward.\n\nIII. The last point that is here is the substantial identity of the\nreward to all that stand on the same level, however different may be\nthe form of their lives.\n\n'He that receiveth a prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive\na prophet's reward.' And so in the case of the others. The active\nprophet, righteous man, or disciple, and the passive recogniser of\neach in that character, who receives each as a prophet, or righteous\nman, or disciple, stand practically and substantially on the same\nlevel, though the one of them may have his lips glowing with the\ndivine inspiration and the other may never have opened his mouth for\nGod.\n\nThat is beautiful and deep. The power of sympathising with any\ncharacter is the partial possession of that character for ourselves.\nA man who is capable of having his soul bowed by the stormy thunder\nof Beethoven, or lifted to Heaven by the ethereal melody of\nMendelssohn, is a musician, though he never composed a bar. The man\nwho recognises and feels the grandeur of the organ music of\n'Paradise Lost' has some fibre of a poet in him, though he be but 'a\nmute, inglorious Milton.'\n\nAll sympathy and recognition of character involve some likeness to\nthat character. The poor woman who brought the sticks and prepared\nfood for the prophet entered into the prophet's mission and shared\nin the prophet's work and reward, though his task was to beard Ahab,\nand hers was only to bake Elijah's bread. The old knight that\nclapped Luther on the back when he went into the Diet of Worms, and\nsaid to him, 'Well done, little monk!' shared in Luther's victory\nand in Luther's crown. He that helps a prophet because he is a\nprophet, has the making of a prophet in himself.\n\nAs all work done from the same motive is the same in God's eyes,\nwhatever be the outward shape of it, so the work that involves the\nsame type of spiritual character will involve the same reward. You\nfind the Egyptian medal on the breasts of the soldiers that kept the\nbase of communication as well as on the breasts of the men that\nstormed the works at Tel-el-Kebir. It was a law in Israel, and it is\na law in Heaven: 'As his part is that goeth down into the battle, so\nshall his part be that tarrieth by the stuff, they shall part\nalike.' 'I am going down into the pit, you hold the ropes,' said\nCarey, the pioneer missionary. They that hold the ropes, and the\ndaring miner that swings away down in the blackness, are one in the\nwork, may be one in the motive, and, if they are, shall be one in\nthe reward. So, brethren, though no coal of fire may be laid upon\nyour lips, if you sympathise with the workers that are trying to\nserve God, and do what you can to help them, and identify yourself\nwith them, and so hold the ropes, my text will be true about you.\n'He that receiveth a prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive\na prophet's reward.' They who by reason of circumstances, by\ndeficiency of power, or by the weight of other tasks and duties, can\nonly give silent sympathy, and prayer, and help, are one with the\nmen whom they help.\n\nDear brethren! remember that this awful, mystical life of ours is\nfull everywhere of consequences that cannot be escaped. What we sow\nwe reap, and we grind it, and we bake it, and we live upon it. We\nhave to drink as we have brewed; we have to lie on the beds that we\nhave made. 'Be not deceived: God is not mocked.' The doctrine of\nreward has two sides to it. 'Nothing human ever dies.' All our deeds\ndrag after them inevitable consequences; but if you will put your\ntrust in Jesus Christ, He will not deal with you according to your\nsins, nor reward you according to your iniquities; and the darkest\nfeatures of the recompense of your evil will all be taken away by\nthe forgiveness which we have in His blood. If you will trust\nyourselves to Him you will have that eternal life, which is not\nwages, but a gift; which is not reward, but a free bestowment of\nGod's love. And then, if we build upon that Foundation on which\nalone men can build their hopes, their thoughts, their characters,\ntheir lives, however feeble may be our efforts, however narrow may\nbe our sphere,--though we be neither prophets nor sons of prophets,\nand though our righteousness may be all stained and imperfect, yet,\nto our own amazement and to God's glory, we shall find, when the\nfire is kindled which reveals and tests our works, that, by the\nmight of humble faith in Christ, we have built upon that Foundation,\ngold and silver and precious stones; and shall receive the reward\ngiven to every man whose work abides that trial by fire.\n\n\n\n\nJOHN'S DOUBTS OF JESUS, AND JESUS' PRAISE OF JOHN\n\n\n    'Now when John had heard in the prison the works of\n    Christ, he sent two of his disciples, 3. And said unto\n    Him, Art Thou He that should come, or do we look for\n    another? 4. Jesus answered and said unto them, Go and\n    shew John again those things which ye do hear and see:\n    5. The blind receive their sight, and the lame walk,\n    the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead\n    are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached\n    to them. 6. And blessed is he, whosoever shall not be\n    offended in Me. 7. And as they departed, Jesus began\n    to say unto the multitudes concerning John, What went\n    ye out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken with\n    the wind? 8. But what went ye out for to see? A man\n    clothed in soft raiment? behold, they that wear soft\n    clothing are in kings' houses. 9. But what went ye out\n    for to see? A prophet? yea, I say unto you, and more\n    than a prophet. 10. For this is he, of whom it is\n    written. Behold, I send My messenger before Thy face,\n    which shall prepare Thy way before Thee. 11. Verily I\n    say unto you, Among them that are born of women there\n    hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist:\n    notwithstanding he that is least in the kingdom of\n    heaven is greater than he. 12. And from the days of\n    John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven\n    suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force.\n    13. For all the prophets and the law prophesied until\n    John--And if ye will receive it, this is Elias, which\n    was for to come. 16. He that hath ears to hear, let\n    him hear.'--MATT. xi. 2-15.\n\nThis text falls into two parts: the first, from verses 2-6\ninclusive, giving us the faltering faith of the great witness, and\nChrist's gentle treatment of the waverer; the second, from verse 7\nto the end, giving the witness of Christ to John, exuberant in\nrecognition, notwithstanding his momentary hesitation.\n\nI. We do not believe that this message of John's was sent for the sake\nof strengthening his disciples' faith in Jesus as Messiah, nor that it\nwas merely meant as a hint to Jesus to declare Himself. The question\nis John's. The answer is sent to him: it is he who is to ponder the\nthings which the messengers saw, and to answer his own question\nthereby. The note which the evangelist prefixes to his account\ngives the key to the incident. John was 'in prison,' in that gloomy\nfortress of Machaerus which Herod had rebuilt at once for 'a sinful\npleasure-house' and for an impregnable refuge, among the savage cliffs\nof Moab. The halls of luxurious vice and the walls of defence are gone;\nbut the dungeons are there still, with the holes in the masonry into\nwhich the bars were fixed to which the prisoners--John, perhaps, one of\nthem--were chained. No wonder that in the foul atmosphere of a dark\ndungeon the spirit which had been so undaunted in the free air of the\ndesert began to flag; nor that even he who had seen the fluttering dove\ndescend on Christ's head, and had pointed to Him as the Lamb of God,\nfelt that 'all his mind was clouded with a doubt.' It would have been\nwiser if commentators, instead of trying to save John's credit at the\ncost of straining the narrative, had recognised the psychological truth\nof the plain story of his wavering conviction and had learned its\nlessons of self-distrust. There is only one Man with whom it was always\nhigh-water; all others have ebbs and flows in their religious life, and\nvariations in their grasp of truth.\n\nThe narrative further gives the motive for John's embassy, in the\nreport which had reached him of 'the works of Christ.' We need only\nrecall John's earlier testimony to understand how these works would\nnot seem to him to fill up the role which he had anticipated for\nMessiah. Where is the axe that was to be laid at the root of the\ntrees, or the fan that was to winnow out the chaff? Where is the\nfiery spirit which he had foretold? This gentle Healer is not the\ntheocratic judge of his warning prophecies. He is tending and\nnurturing, rather than felling, the barren trees. A nimbus of\nmerciful deeds, not of flashing 'wrath to come,' surrounds His head.\nSo John began to wonder if, after all, he had been premature in his\nrecognition. Perhaps this Jesus was but a precursor, as he himself\nwas, of the Messiah. Evidently he continues firm in the conviction\nof Christ's being sent from God, and is ready to accept His answer\nas conclusive; but, as evidently, he is puzzled by the contrariety\nbetween Jesus' deeds and his own expectations. He asks, 'Art Thou\n_He that cometh_'--a well-known name for Messiah--'or are we to\nexpect another?' where it should be noted that the word for\n'another' means not merely a second, but a different kind of,\nperson, who should present the aspects of the Messiah as revealed in\nprophecy, and as embodied in John's own preaching, which Jesus had\nleft unfulfilled.\n\nWe may well take to heart the lesson of the fluctuations possible to\nthe firmest faith, and pray to be enabled to hold fast that we have.\nWe may learn, too, the danger to right conceptions of Christ, of\nseparating the two elements of mercy and judgment in His character\nand work. John was right in believing that the Christ must come to\njudge. A Christ without the fan in His hand is a maimed Christ. John\nwas wrong in stumbling at the gentleness, just as many to-day, who\ngo to the opposite extreme, are wrong in stumbling at the judicial\nside of His work. Both halves are needed to make the full-orbed\ncharacter. We have not to 'look for a different' Christ, but we have\nto look for Him, coming the second time, the same Jesus, but now\nwith His axe in His pierced hands, to hew down trees which He has\npatiently tended. Let John's profound sense of the need for a\njudicial aspect in the Christ who is to meet the prophecies written\nin men's hearts, as well as in Scripture, teach us how one-sided and\nsuperficial are representations of His work which suppress or slur\nover His future coming to judgment.\n\nOur Lord does not answer 'Yes' or 'No.' To do so might have stilled,\nbut would not have removed, John's misconception. A more thorough\ncure is needed. So Christ attacks it in its roots by referring him\nback for answer to the very deeds which had excited his doubt. In\ndoing so, He points to, or indeed, we may say, quotes, two prophetic\npassages (Isa. xxxv. 5, 6; lxi. 1) which give the prophetic 'notes' of\nMessiah. It is as if He had said, 'Have you forgotten that the very\nprophets whose words have fed your hopes, and now seem to minister to\nyour doubts, have said this and this about the Messiah?' Further,\nthere is deep wisdom in sending John back again to think over the very\ndeeds at which he was stumbling. It is not Christ's work which is\nwanting in conformity to the divine idea; it is John's conceptions of\nthat idea that need enlarging. What he wants is not so much to be told\nthat Jesus is the Christ, as to grow up to a truer, because more\ncomprehensive, notion of what the Christ is to be. A wide principle is\ntaught us here. The very points in Christ's work which may occasion\ndifficulty, will, when we stand at the right point of view, become\nevidences of His claims. What were stumbling-blocks become\nstepping-stones. Arguments against become proofs of, the truth when we\nlook at them with clearer eyes, and from the proper angle. Further, we\nare taught here, that what Christ does is the best answer to the\nquestion as to who He is. Still He is doing these works among us.\nDarkened eyes are flooded with light by His touch, and see a new\nworld, because they gaze with faith on Him. Lame limbs are endowed\nwith strength, and can run in the way of His commandments, and walk\nwith unfainting perseverance the thorniest paths of duty and\nself-sacrifice. Lepers are cleansed from the rotting leprosy of sin,\nand their flesh comes again, 'as the flesh of a little child.' Deaf\nears hear the voice of the Son of God, and the dead who hear live.\nGood news is preached to all the poor in spirit, and whosoever knows\nhimself to be in need of all things may claim all things as his own in\nChrist. He who through the ages has been working such works, and works\nthem still, 'needs not to speak anything' to confirm His claims,\n'neither is there salvation in any other.' We look for no second\nChrist; but we look for that same Jesus to come the second time to be\nthe Judge of the world of which He is the Saviour.\n\nThe benediction on him who finds none occasion of stumbling in\nChrist, is at once a beatitude and a warning. It rebukes in the\ngentlest fashion John's temper, which found difficulty in even the\nperfect personality of Jesus, and made that which should have been\nthe 'sure foundation' of his spirit a stone of stumbling. Our Lord's\nconsciousness of absolute perfection of moral character, and of\nabsolute perfectness in His office and work, is distinct in the\nwords. He knows that 'there is none occasion of stumbling in Him,'\nand that whoever finds any, brings it or makes it. He knows and\nwarns us that all blessedness lies for us in recognising Him for\nwhat He is--God's sure foundation of our hopes, our peace, our\nthoughts, our lives. He knows that all woe and loss are involved in\nstumbling on this stone, against which whosoever falls is broken,\nand by which, when it begins to move, and falls on a man, he is\nground to powder, like the dust of the threshing-floor. What\ntremendous arrogance of assertion! Who is he who can venture on such\nwords without blasphemy against God, and universal ridicule from\nmen?\n\nII. The witness of Christ to John. Praise from Jesus is praise\nindeed; and it is poured out here with no stinted hand on the\nlanguishing prisoner whose doubts had just been brought to Him. Such\nan eulogium at such a time is a wonderful instance of loving\nforbearance with a true-hearted follower's weakness, and of a desire\nwhich, in a man, we should call magnanimous, to shield John's\ncharacter from depreciation on account of his message. The world\npraises a man to his face, and speaks of his faults behind his back.\nChrist does the opposite. Not till the messengers were departing\ndoes He begin to speak 'concerning John.' He lays bare the secret of\nthe Baptist's power, and allocates his place as greatest in one\nepoch and as less than the least in another, with an authority more\nthan human, and on principles which set Himself high above all\ncomparison with men, whether the greatest or the least. The King\nplaces His subjects, and Himself sits enthroned above them all.\n\nFirst, Christ praises John's great personal character in the\ndramatic and vivid questions which begin this section. He recalls\nthe scenes of popular enthusiasm when all Israel streamed out to the\ndesert preacher. A small man could not have made such an upheaval.\nWhat drew the crowds? Just what will draw them; the qualities\nwithout which, either possessed in reality or in popular estimation,\nno man can be a power religiously. The first essential is heroic\nfirmness. It was not reeds swaying in the wind by Jordan's banks,\nnor a poor feeble man like these, that the people flocked to listen\nto. His emblem was not the reed, but 'an iron pillar.' His whole\ncareer had been marked by decisiveness, constancy, courage. Nothing\ncan be done worth doing in the world without a wholesome obstinacy\nand imperturbability, which keep a man true to his convictions and\nhis task, whatever winds blow in his teeth. The multitudes will not\nflock to listen to a teacher who does not speak with the accent of\nconviction, nor will truths feebly grasped touch the lips with fire.\nThe first requisite for a religious teacher is that he shall be sure\nof his message and of himself. Athanasius has to 'stand against the\nworld' before the world accepts his teaching. 'Though there were as\nmany devils in Worms as there are tiles on the house-tops, go I\nwill,' said Luther. That is the temper for God's instruments.\n\nThe next requisite, which John also had, is manifest indifference to\nmaterial ease. Silken courtiers do not haunt the desert. Kings'\nhouses, and not either the wilderness or kings' dungeons, are the\nsunny spots where they spread their plumage. If the gaunt ascetic,\nwith his girdle of camel's hair and his coarse fare, had been a\nself-indulgent sybarite, his voice would never have shaken a nation.\nThe least breath of suspicion that a preacher is such a man ends his\npower, and ought to end it; for self-indulgence and the love of\nfleshly comforts eat the heart out of goodness, and make the eyes\ntoo heavy to see visions. John was the same man then as they had\nknown him to be; therefore it was no impatience of the hardships of\nhis prison that had inspired his doubts.\n\nOur Lord next speaks of John's great office. He was a prophet. The\ndim recognition that God spoke in His fiery words had drawn the\ncrowds, weary of teachers in whose endless jangle and jargon of\ncasuistry was no inspiration. The voice of a man who gets his\nmessage at first-hand from God has a ring in it which even dull ears\ndetect as something genuine. Alas for the bewildering babble of\nechoes and the paucity of voices to-day!\n\nSo far Jesus had been appealing to His hearers' knowledge; He now\ngoes on to add higher truth concerning John. He declares that he is\nmore than a prophet, because he is His messenger before His face;\nthat is, immediately preceding Himself. We cannot stay to comment on\nthe remarkable variation between the original form of the quotation\nfrom Malachi and Christ's version of it, which, in its substitution\nof 'thee' for 'me,' bears so forcibly on the divinity of Christ; but\nwe may mark the principle on which John's superiority to the whole\nprophetic order is based. It is that nearness to Jesus makes\ngreatness. The closer the relation to Him, the higher the honour. In\nthat long procession the King comes last; and of 'them that go\nbefore, crying, Hosanna to Him that cometh,' the order of precedence\nis that the first are last, and that the highest is he who walks in\nfront of the Sovereign.\n\nNext, we have the limitations of the forerunner and his relative\ninferiority to the least in the kingdom of heaven. Another standard\nof greatness is here from that of the world, which smiles at the\ncontrast between the uncultured preacher of repentance and the\nmighty thinkers, poets, legislators, kingdom-makers, whom it enrols\namong the great. In Christ's eyes greatness is nearness to Him, and\nunderstanding of Him and His work. Neither natural faculty nor worth\nis in question, but simply relation to the Kingdom and the King. He\nwho had only to preach of Him who should come after him, and had but\na partial apprehension of Christ and His work, stood on a lower\nlevel than the least who has to look to a Christ who has come, and\nhas opened the gates of the kingdom to the humblest believer. The\ntruths which were hid from ages, and were but visible as in morning\ntwilight to John, are sunlit to us. The scholars in our Sunday-schools\nknow familiarly more than prophets and kings ever knew. We 'hold the\ngrey barbarian lower than the Christian child'; and not merely he, but\nthe wisest of the prophets, and the forerunner himself. The history of\nthe world is parted into two by the coming of Jesus Christ, as every\ndictionary of dates tells, and the least of the greater is greater than\nthe greatest of the less. What a place, then, does Christ claim! Our\nrelation to Him determines greatness. To recognise Him is to be in the\nKingdom of Heaven. Union to Him brings us to fulfil the ideal of human\nnature; and this is life, to know and trust Him, the King.\n\nOur Lord adds a brief characterisation of the effect of John's\nministry. It was of mingled good and evil, and there is a tone of\nsadness perceptible in the ambiguous words. John had aroused great\npopular excitement, and had stirred multitudes to seek to enter the\nKingdom. So far was good. But had all the crowds understood what sort\nof kingdom it was? Had they not too often dragged down the lofty\nconception to their own vulgar level, and, with their dream of an\noutward sovereignty, thought to gain it for their own by violence\ninstead of meekness, by arms and worldly force rather than by\nsubmission? The earnestness was good, but Christ's sad insight saw\nhow much strange fire had mingled in the blaze, as if some earth-born\nsmoky flame should seek to blend with the pure sunlight. Such seems\nthe most natural interpretation of the words, but they are ambiguous,\nand may possibly mean by 'the violent' those who had been roused to\ngenuine earnestness by the clarion voice which rang in the ears of\nthat slumbering generation.\n\nThen follows the explanation of this new interest in the kingdom.\n'All the prophets and the law prophesied until John.' The whole\nperiod till his coming was one of preparation, and it all converged\non the epoch of the forerunner. The eagerness to flock into the\nKingdom which characterised his time would have been impossible in\nthe earlier days. He closes that order of things, standing, as it\nwere, on the isthmus between prophecy and fulfilment, belonging\nproperly to neither, but having affinities with both, and being the\ntransition from the one to the other. Then our Lord closes His words\nconcerning John with the distinct statement, which He expects His\nhearers to have difficulty in receiving, probably from the\ncontradiction to it which John's present condition seemed to give,\nthat in him was fulfilled Malachi's prophecy of the sending of\n'Elijah the prophet before ... day of the Lord.' The fiery Tishbite,\ngaunt and grim, ascetic and solitary, who bearded Ahab, and flamed\nacross a corrupt age with a stern message of repentance or\ndestruction, was repeated in the lonely ascetic who had his Ahab in\nHerod, and his Jezebel in Herodias, and like his prototype, knew no\nfear, but flashed out the lightnings of his words on every sin. The\ntwo men were brothers, and their voices answer each other across the\ncenturies. Christ crowns His witness to John while thus quoting the\nlast swansong of ancient prophecy, and thereby at once sets John on\na pinnacle of greatness, and advances a claim concerning Himself all\nthe more weighty, because He leaves it to be inferred. 'He that hath\nears to hear, let him hear'--this eulogium on the forerunner needs\nto be reflected on ere all its bearings are seen. If John was Elias,\nthe day of the Lord was at hand, and 'the Sun of Righteousness' was\nalready above the horizon. Jesus' witness concerning John ends in\nwitness concerning Himself.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FRIEND OF PUBLICANS AND SINNERS\n\n\n    'The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say,\n    Behold a man gluttonous, and a winebibber, a friend of\n    publicans and sinners. But wisdom is justified of her\n    children,'--MATT. xi. 19.\n\nJesus very seldom took notice of His enemies' slanders. 'When He was\nreviled He reviled not again.' If ever He did, it was for the sake\nof those whom it harmed to distort His beauty. Thus, here He speaks,\nwithout the slightest trace of irritation, of the capricious\ninconsistency of condemning Himself and John on precisely opposite\ngrounds. John will not suit them because he neither eats nor drinks.\nWell, one would think that Jesus would be hailed since He does both.\nBut He pleases them just as little. What was at the root of this\ncontrary working dislike? It was the dislike for the truths they\nboth preached, the rejection of the wisdom of which they were the\nmessengers. When men do not like the message, nothing that the\nmessengers do, or are, is right. Never mind consistency, but object\nto this form of Christian teaching that it is too harsh, and to\nthat, that it is too soft; to this man that he is always thundering\ncondemnation, to that, that he is always preaching mercy; to one,\nthat he has too much to say about duty, to another, that he dwells\ntoo much on grace; to this presentation of the gospel, that it is\ntoo learned and doctrinal, to that, that it is too sentimental and\nemotional, and so on, and so on. The generation of children who\nneither like piping nor lamenting, lives still.\n\nBut my purpose now is not to dwell on the conduct with which our\nLord is dealing, but on this caricature of Him which His own lips\nrepeat without a sign of anger. It is the only calumny of\nantagonists reported by Himself. We owe our knowledge of its\ncurrency to this saying. Like other words of His enemies, this\nsaying is a distorted refraction of His glory. The facts it embodies\nare facts; the conclusions it draws are false. If Jesus had not come\neating and drinking, He could not have been called gluttonous and a\nwine-bibber. If He had not drawn publicans and sinners to Him in a\nconspicuous manner and degree, He could not have been called their\nfriend. The charge, like all others, is a tribute. Let us try to see\nwhat was the blessed truth that it caricatured. We may take the two\npoints separately, for though closely connected they are distinct,\nand cover different ground.\n\nI. His enemies' witness to Christ's participation in common life.\n\n(_a_) That participation witnesses to His true manhood.\n\nSignificant use of 'Son of Man' in context.\n\nBecause He is so, He must pass into all human circumstances.\n\nLooked at in the light of incarnation, the simple fact that He\nshared our common lot in all things assumes proportions of majestic\ncondescension.\n\nExtend to all physical necessities, and to simple material\npleasures.\n\nWhat a witness this hostile criticism is to Christ's genial\nidentification of Himself with homely feasters!\n\n(_b_) It sets forth the highest type of manhood.\n\nJohn could be ascetic, but the Pattern Man could not.\n\nThe true perfecting of humanity is not the extirpation, but the\ncontrol, of the flesh by the spirit. And in accordance with this\nthought, we may see in the eating and drinking Christ, the pattern\nfor the religious life. Asceticism is not the noblest form of\nsanctity. There is nothing more striking in Old Testament than the\nway in which its heroes and saints mingle in all ordinary duties.\nThey are warriors, statesmen, shepherds, they buy, they sell.\nAsceticism came later, along with formalisms of other sorts. When\ndevotion cools, it is crusted with superstition and external marks\nof godliness. Propriety in posturing in worship, casuistry in the\ninterpretation of law, and abstinence from common enjoyments, came\nin Pharisaic times. And into such a world Jesus came, eating and\ndrinking.\n\nBut His bearing in these matters is example for us. They were\nrigidly kept in subordination. They were all done in communion with\nGod.\n\nSo He has hallowed all by taking part in them.\n\nChrist should be present in all our material enjoyments. If you\ncannot think that He is with you, if you cannot conceive of His\nbeing there, that is no place for you. If you cannot feel that He\napproves, that is no fit enjoyment for you.\n\nThe tendency of this day is to take a wider view of the liberty\nallowed to Christians in regard to partaking in material enjoyment,\nand I dare say that many of you who have thought that I spoke well\nin insisting on all things belonging to the Christian, will think\nthat I am dropping back into the old narrow groove in my next\nremark, that all such thoughts need guarding.\n\nOne has heard the example of Christ invoked to justify unchristian\nlaxity and excess. Therefore I wish to say that the liberty\npermitted to Christians in these matters is to be limited within the\nlimits within which Christ's was confined.\n\nThe excessive use of innocent things is not justified by His\nexample, nor is the use of things innocent in themselves, which are\nmixed up with harmful things.\n\nChrist's example does not warrant the importance attached to luxury,\nthe waste on mere eating and drinking. It is sometimes quoted as\nagainst total abstinence. It has no bearing on the question. But if\nHe gave up heaven for His brethren, I think that they who give up an\nindulgence for the sake of theirs are in the line of His action. I\nventure to think that if Jesus Christ lived in England to-day, He\nwould be a total abstinence fanatic.\n\n'If thy hand offend thee, cut it off.' Asceticism is not the\nhighest, but it is sometimes necessary. If my indulgence in innocent\nthings hurts me, or if my abstinence from them would help others, or\nincrease my power for good, or if innocent things are intertwisted\nwith things not innocent, then it is vain to try to shelter under\nChrist's example, and the only right course for His disciple is to\nabridge his liberty. He came eating and drinking, therefore His\nfollowers may use all innocent earthly blessings and bodily\npleasures, subject to this one law: 'Whether ye eat or drink, or\nwhatever ye do, do all to the glory of God,' and to this solemn\nwarning: 'He that soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap\ncorruption.'\n\nII. His enemies' witness to Jesus as the friend of the outcasts.\n\nThe fact was that He drew them to Himself and evidently was glad to\nhave them round Him. The inference natural to low natures was\n_noscitur a sociis_ and that the bond between Him and them was\ncommon evil tendencies and ways. His censors could not conceive of\nany one's seeking the outcasts from pity and for their good.\n\n(_a_) Christ's consorting with these was the revelation of His\nlove to them.\n\nIt meant no complicity with, nor minimising of, sinfulness.\n\nHis sternness is as conspicuous as His love.\n\nHe warned, rebuked, tried to win back.\n\nThe highest purity is not repellent to sinners.\n\nSo in Jesus is the combination of tenderest love and intense moral\nearnestness.\n\nHow difficult for anything but actual sight of such a life to have\npainted it! Where did the evangelists get such an embodiment of two\nattitudes so unlike each other, and which we so seldom see united in\nfact? I venture to think that the combination in perfect harmony and\nproportion of these, is a strong presumption in favour of the\nhistorical truth of the Christ of the gospels.\n\nBut remember that if we take His own statement ('He that hath seen\nMe hath seen the Father'), we are to see in this kindly consorting\nwith sinners not only the love of a perfectly pure manhood, but a\nrevelation of the heart of God. And that adds wonderfulness and awe\nto the fact. This man to whom sinners were drawn by strange\nattraction, in whom they found the highest purity and yet softest\ntenderness, therein revealed God.\n\n(_b_) It witnesses to His boundless hope.\n\nNo outcasts were hopeless in His view. To man's eyes there are\nhopeless classes, but He sees deeper. 'Perhaps a spark lies hid.'\nThere are dormant possibilities in all souls.\n\nNone are so hard as that they cannot be melted by the high\ntemperature of love, just as there are no metals that cannot be\nvolatilised if exposed to intense heat.\n\nCarry the most thick-ribbed ice into the sun and it will thaw.\n\nSo the Christian view of mankind is much more hopeful than that of\nmere educationists or moralists.\n\nNone of them paint human nature so black as it does, but none of\nthem have such boundless confidence in the possibility of making it\nlustrously white.\n\nUrge, then, that none are beyond the power of Christ's gospel. His\ndivine Spirit can change any man. There are no incurables in the\njudgment of the great Physician.\n\n(_c_) It witnesses to the truth that gross sin does not shut\nout from Him so much as does self-complacent ignorance of our own\nneed.\n\n'They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.'\nWhere should the physician be but at the sick man's bedside?\n\nThe one impassable barrier between us and Christ is fancying that we\nare not sinners and do not need Him.\n\nThis boundless hopefulness and seeking after the outcasts is the\nunique glory of Christianity. What has been the mainspring of all\nmovements for their elevation? What broke the chains of slavery?\nWhat has sent men to the ends of the earth for the elevation of\nsavage races? What is the motive power in the benevolent works of\nthis day? Is it philosophical altruism or is it Christian faith? No\ndoubt, there are some sporadic movements among people who do not\naccept the gospel. At present, I do not ask how far these are due to\nthe underground influence of Christianity filtering to men who stand\napart from it. But I gravely doubt whether you will ever get any\nlarge, continuous, self-sacrificing efforts for the outcasts, unless\nthey are the direct result of the spirit of Christ moving on men who\nowe their own deliverance to Him. We have not yet seen agnostic\nmissionary societies or the like.\n\nThis spirit must mark all living Christianity. If ever churches\nforget their obligations to the publicans and sinners, they will\ncease to grow. It will be a sign that they have lost their hold of\nChrist. They will soon die, and no mourners will attend their\nfunerals. It is a good sign to-day that all Christian churches are\nwaking up to feel more their obligations to the outcasts. Only, we\nmust take heed that we go to them as Christ did, making no\ncompromise with sin, speaking no false flatteries, and bent on one\nthing, their emancipation from the evil which is slaying them.\n\nLet us all take the blessed thought for ourselves, that Jesus Christ\nis our friend because He is the friend of sinners, and we are\nsinners. Degrees of sinfulness vary, but the fact is invariable. The\nuniversality of sinfulness makes the universality of Christ's love\nthe more wonderful and blessed. If He did not love sinners, there\nwould be none for Him to love. We may be His enemies, or may neglect\nall His beseechings; but He is still our friend, wishing us well,\nand desiring to bless us. But He cannot give us His deepest\nfriendship unless we are willing to recognise our sin. We must come\nto Him on the footing of transgressors if we are to come to Him at\nall.\n\nHe will deliver us from our sins.\n\nAppeal to give hearts to Him.\n\nHow has He shown His friendship? 'Greater love hath no man than\nthis,' that 'while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.'\n\nTo be friends of Christ is the highest honour and blessing.\n\n'Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command you.'\n\n'He was called the friend of God.' Abraham's name in Mohammedan\nlands is still El Khalil, the companion or friend. That is our\nhighest title. Christ's friends will not continue sinners.\n\n\n\n\nSODOM, CAPERNAUM, MANCHESTER\n\n\n    'Then began He to upbraid the cities wherein most of\n    His mighty works were done, because they repented not.'\n    --MATT. xi. 20.\n\nThese words, and the woes which they introduce, are found in another\nconnection in Luke's Gospel. He attaches them to his report of the\nmission of the seventy disciples. Matthew here introduces them in an\norder which seems not to depend upon time, but upon identity of\nsubject. It is his method in his Gospel to group together similar\nevents, as we have it exemplified, for instance, in the Sermon on\nthe Mount, and in the long procession of miracles which immediately\nfollows it, as well as in other parts of the Gospel. In this chapter\nit is not difficult to discover the common idea which binds its\nparts into a whole. We have a number of instances strung together,\nillustrating the different effects of Christ's appearance and work\non different classes of persons. There pass before us, John the\nBaptist with his doubts, the excitable multitude ready to take the\nKingdom of Heaven by storm, the critics who cavilled with impartial\ninconsistency alike at John's asceticism and at Christ's freedom.\nThen follow the woes pronounced by Him upon the indifference of\nthose who knew Him best, and these are succeeded by His rejoicing in\nspirit over the babes who accepted Him; and the whole is crowned by\ngreat words of invitation which extend equally over those and over\nall other varieties of disposition, and, since all 'labour and are\nheavy laden,' summon all, be they what they may, to come and find\nrest in Him. Obviously, then, the order in this chapter is not that\nof time, but that of subject.\n\nNotice that of all these different classes and types of character\nthat pass in review before us, the one that is singled out for the\nsolemn denunciation of heavy judgment is that of the people who\nstood in a blaze of light, and simply paid no attention to it. These\nare the worst sort. I wonder how many of them are in my audience\nnow?\n\nLet me try, then, to bring before you the thoughts naturally\nsuggested by these introductory words, and the solemn, sorrowful\nforebodings of retribution which follow them. I ask you to look at\nthree things,--the blaze of light; the neglect of the light; the\nrebuke for the neglected light. 'Jesus began to upbraid the cities\nwherein most of His mighty works were done.'\n\nI. First, then, consider the blaze of light.\n\nAccording to the words of my text, the larger number of the miracles\nof our Lord were wrought in these three places. 'Cities,' our Bible\ncalls them; two of them were little fishing villages, the third a\nsomewhat considerable town. Where are these miracles recorded? Not\nin our gospels. As for Chorazin, we never hear its name except in\nthis verse, and in the parallel in Luke's Gospel; and all that He\ndid there is swallowed up in oblivion. As for Bethsaida, there are a\ncouple of miracles, probably, recorded as having been wrought there,\nthough there is some obscurity in reference to the locality of at\nleast one of them. As for Capernaum, there are several miracles\nrecorded as having been performed in that place, and several others\nreferred to as having been done there. But there is nothing in the\nfour gospels that would suggest the statement of the text.\n\nNow the inference (which has nothing to do with my present subject,\nbut which I just note in passing) is,--how extremely fragmentary and\nincomplete these four gospels avowedly are! They harvest for us a\nfew ears plucked in the great waving cornfield,--and all the others\nwithered and died where they grew. The light falls upon one or two\ngroups in the crowd of miserables whom He helped, the rest lie in\ndim shadow. You have to think of dozens, I suppose I should not be\nexaggerating if I were to say hundreds, of miracles unrecorded but\nknown, lying behind the specimens that we have in the gospels. 'Many\nother things truly did Jesus, which are not written in this book.'\n\nOur Lord takes these two little fishing villages, and He parallels\nand contrasts them with the two great maritime cities of Tyre and\nSidon, and says that these insignificant places have far more light\nthan those had. Then He isolates Capernaum, a place of more\nimportance, and His own usual settled residence; and, in like\nmanner, He contrasts it with the long-buried Sodom, and proclaims\nthe superiority of the illumination which fell on the more modern\nthree. Why were they so superior? Because they had Moses? because\nthey had the prophets, the law, the temple, the priesthood? By no\nmeans. Because they had _Him_. So He sets Himself forth as\nbeing the highest and clearest of all the revelations that God has\nmade to the world, and asserts that in Him, in His character, in His\ndeeds, men ought to find motives that should bow them in penitence\nbefore God; motives sweeter, tenderer, stronger than any that the\nworld knows besides. There is no such light of the knowledge of the\nglory of God anywhere else as there is in the face of Jesus Christ.\nAnd oh! brother; no thoughts of the nobleness of rectitude, and the\nimperfection of one's own life, no thoughts of a divine justice and\na divine punishment, will bow a man in penitence like having once\ncaught a glimpse of the perfect sweetness and perfect beauty of the\nperfect Humanity that is revealed to us in Jesus Christ.\n\nBut now, mark;--as Capernaum is to Sodom, so is Manchester to\nCapernaum! I wonder if Jesus Christ were to come amongst us now,\nwhether He would not repeat in spirit the same lesson that is in my\ntext, and bid us contrast our greater illumination with the morning\ntwilight that dawned upon these men, and yet was light enough to\nbring condemnation? Think,--these people of whom our Lord is\nspeaking here, and setting them high above Tyre and Sidon and Sodom,\nknew nothing about His cross, death, resurrection, ascension. They\nknew Him only as 'a dubious Name,' as a possible Divine Messenger\nand a Miracle-worker; but all the sweetest and the deepest thoughts\nabout Him lay unrevealed. Whilst they stood but in the morning\ntwilight, you and I stand in the noonday blaze. _They_ might be\npardoned for doubting whether the light that shone from Him was\nsunshine or candle, but men of this twentieth century, who have the\nwhole story of Christ, which is the gospel for the world, wrought\nout through all the tragedy and pathos of His death, and triumph and\npower of His resurrection, and who have, besides, the history of the\nworld and of the Church for nineteen centuries, are more\nunpardonable unless they listen to Him with penitence and faith,\nthan were any of His contemporaries.\n\nMy brother, we stand in the very focus and fountain, as it were, of\nthe heavenly radiance. A whole Christ, a crucified Christ, a risen\nChrist, an ascended Christ, a Christ who is the Lord of the Spirit,\na Christ who through the centuries is saving and blessing men, a\nChrist who can point to nineteen hundred years and say, 'That is My\nwork, in so far as it is good and noble,'--this Christ shines with a\nclearer evidence than the Miracle-worker of Capernaum and Bethsaida.\nAnd to you the word comes, 'If the mighty works which have been done\nin _thee_, had been done in Bethsaida and Chorazin, they would\nhave remained until this day.'\n\nThere are many of you here saturated with the knowledge of the\ngospel, who from childhood have heard it and heard it and heard it.\nYou have lived in the light all your days. Alas! 'If the light that\nis' round 'thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!'\n\nII. That brings me in the next place to notice the negligent\nindifference to the Light in all its blaze.\n\nThe men of these three little fishing towns were not sinners above\nall the Galileans of their day. Their crime was that they did\nnothing. No persecution is recorded as having been raised against\nHim by them; there were no angry antagonisms, no scornful words, no\nviolent opposition. They simply stolidly stood like some black rock\nin the sunshine, and let the sunshine pour down upon them, and\nremained grim and black as ever. That was all.\n\nThat is to say, the thing that brings down the severest rebuke is not\nthe angry antagonism of the men who are contending in half-darkness,\nwith a misunderstood and therefore disliked Christ, but the sleek,\npassive apathy that is never touched deeper than its ears by the\nmessage of God's word. It is not a difficult thing to incur this\ncondemnation. You have simply to do what some of you are doing, and\nhave been doing all your lives, as to Christianity, and that is--nothing!\nYou have simply to acquiesce politely and respectfully, as many of you\ndo, and say you are Christians; and there an end. You have simply to\ntake my words (as I fear so many of those that listen to them do) as\nmatters of course, the proper things to be said on a Sunday, and for me\nto say, which may be very true in some vague, general way, but which\nhave no felt application to _you_. That is all you have to do.\nIt is quite enough. Negative vices will ruin a man, in mind, body, and\nestate; and the negative sin of simple indifference avails to put a\nbarrier between you and Jesus Christ, through which none of His blessing\ncan filter. If a sailor does _not_ lash himself to something fixed,\nthe next sea that comes across the deck will do the rest. If a sick man\ndoes _not_ take the medicine, by doing nothing he has committed\nsuicide. And simple passivity, that is to say (to translate it out\nof Latin into good, honest English), doing nothing, is all that is\nneeded in order to part you from Christ and Christ from you. He\n'upbraided the cities because they repented _not_.'\n\nOne can fancy some well-to-do and thoroughly respectable and\nclean-living native of Capernaum saying, 'What! those foul beasts in\nSodom better off than I? Impossible!' Well, Jesus Christ says so\nupon very intelligible grounds. The measure of light is the measure\nof responsibility. That is one ground. And the not preferring Him is\nthe preferring of self and the world, and that is the sin of sins.\nHe will 'convince the world of sin because they believe not on Me.'\n\nNow, one more point, viz. this gelatinous kind of indifference, as\nof a disposition not stiff enough to take any impression, is found\nmost deeply seated, and hopeless, amongst--shall I venture?--amongst\npeople like _you_, who have been listening, listening, listening, until\nyour systems have become so habituated to this Christian preaching\nthat it does not produce the least effect. It all runs off you like\nrain off waterproof. You have waterproofed your consciences and your\nspiritual susceptibilities by long habit of listening and doing nothing.\n\nAnd some of you have come to this point, that you positively rather\nlike the titillation and excitement, slight though it may be, which\nis produced by coming in contact now and then with a good, wholesome,\nrousing Christian appeal. Not that you ever intend to do anything,\nbut it is pleasant to see a man in earnest, and preaching as if he\nbelieved what he was saying. And so perhaps some of you are feeling\nhere to-night.\n\nAh! my dear friends, it is possible for a man to live by the side of\nNiagara until he cannot hear the cataract; and it is an awful thing\nfor men and women to live under the sound of Christian teaching\nuntil it produces no more effect upon their wills and natures than\nthe ringing of the church bells, to which they pay no attention.\n\nYou do not know the despair that comes over us preachers time after\ntime, as we look down upon the faces of our congregations, and feel,\n'What _shall_ I do to put a sharp enough point upon this truth\nto get it into the heart of some man that has been sitting there as\nlong as I have been standing here, and is never a bit the better for\nit?' Our most earnest preaching is like putting a red-hot iron into\na pond: the cold water puts it out and closes above it, and there is\nno more heard nor seen of it. Our old Puritan forefathers used to\ntalk about 'gospel-hardened hearers.' I believe that there are\npeople listening to me now who have become so inured to Christian\npreaching that, like artillery horses, they will not move a muscle\nor quiver if a whole battery of cannon is fired off under their\nnoses. God knows I despair sometimes, many a time, when I think of\nthe hundreds of people to whom I speak, year after year, and how\nthere seems next to nothing in the world to come of it all.\n\nIII. Now lastly, notice here the rebuke of this negligence of the\nlight.\n\n'He began to upbraid the cities.' But oh! we shall misunderstand Him\nand His purpose if we think that that upbraiding was anything but\nthe sorrowful expression of His own loving heart, which warned of\nwhat was coming in order that He might never need to send it.\n'_Woe_ unto you; _woe_ unto you,' and His own lips quivered and His own\nheart felt the woe, as He laid bare the sin and foreannounced the\nretribution.\n\nI do not feel that I dare dwell upon, or that it beseems me to say\nmuch about, this solemn thought. Only, dear friends, I do desire, if\nI could, to wake some of you to look realities for once in the face,\nand to be sure of this, that retribution is proportioned to light,\nand that the sin of sins is the rejection of Jesus Christ. Beneath\nthe broad folds of that 'more tolerable' there lie infinite degrees\nof retribution. The same deed done by a group of men may be\nindefinitely varied in its culpability, according to the motives and\nthe clearness of knowledge which accompany or prompt the doing of\nit. And so, just because the life beyond is the accurate outcome and\nissue of the whole character and conduct, estimated according to\nmotive and knowledge, therefore there must be differences infinitely\nwide between the fate of the servant that knew his Lord's will, and\nthe servant that knew not.\n\nWhere do you think we gospel-drenched English men and women will\nstand in that allocation of culpability? I do not presume to say\nmore, but I beseech you,--let no present controversies about the\nduration and the possible termination of retribution in another\nstate, or the possible prolongation of a probation into another\nstate, blind you to the fact that however these questions be\nsettled, this is a truth, independent of them, but being forgotten\namidst the dust of controversy, that the next life is a life of\nretribution, and that there you and I will give account of our\ndeeds, and chiefly of our attitude to Jesus.\n\nAnd now let me say, in one word,--hoisting the danger-signal is the\nwork of kindness, and Jesus Christ was never more loving than when\nfrom His lips there came these words, heavy with His own sorrow, and\nstern with the prophecy of retribution. I know that Christian\nteachers have often spoken of the solemn things beyond, in tones\nmuch to be deplored, and which weaken the force of their message.\nBut surely, surely, if we believe in a judgment to come, and if we\nbelieve that some of those that listen to us are in peril of it,\nsurely, surely, the plainest duty is that with tears in our voice\nand pleading tenderness in our tone, seeing the sword coming, we\nshould give warning, and beseech men to flee for refuge to the hope\nof the Gospel. The solemn words that we have been looking at now,\nlead up to, and are intended to make more impressive and gracious,\nthe invitation with which this chapter ends: 'Come unto Me, all ye\nthat labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'\n\nDear friends, we stand in the blaze of the light. Our familiarity\nwith Jesus Christ may be our ruin. We are tempted to pay no heed to\nHis words because we know them so well. Neglect of Christ on your\npart will bring deeper woes on your head than the people of\nCapernaum pulled down upon theirs. The brighter the sunshine, the\nlouder the thunder and the fiercer the lightning; the longer the\nsummer day, the longer the winter night; the closer the comet comes\nto the sun, the further away it plunges, at the other extremity of\nits orbit, into space and darkness. So I beseech you, listen as if\nyou had never heard it before, and listen as if your lives depended\nupon it (as indeed they do) to that merciful invitation, 'Come unto\nMe, all ye that labour and are heavy laden,' and then you will get\nrest for your souls here, and at that day when Sodom and Capernaum\nand Manchester--they and we--shall stand before His throne, you may\nlift up your eyes, and be glad to see who it is that sits on the\ntribunal, and that you learned to know and love the face of your\nSaviour, before you saw Him enthroned as your Judge.\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S STRANGE THANKSGIVING\n\n\n    'I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth,\n    because Thou hast hid these things from the wise and\n    prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.'\n    --MATT. xi. 25.\n\nWhen Jesus was about to cure one dumb man, He lifted up His eyes to\nheaven and sighed. Sorrow filled His soul in the act of working\ndeliverance. The thought of the depth of the miseries He had come to\nheal, and of the ocean of them which He was then diminishing but by\none poor drop, saddened Him. When Jesus thought of the woes that had\nfallen on the impenitent Sodom, and of the worse that still remained\nto be revealed at the day of judgment, He rejoiced in spirit.\nStrange! and yet all in harmony with His depth of love. This once,\nand this once only, do we read that His heart filled with joy. Did\nHe lift up His solemn thanksgiving to God, for the woes that had\nfallen on Chorazin? Oh no! For the blinding of the wise and prudent?\nOh no! For the revelation to babes? Yes, and not only for that, but\nfor that full and universal offer and possibility of salvation,\nwhich forms the reason for both the revelation to babes and the\nhiding from the wise. If we attend to the connection of this passage\nwe get light on its force. It begins with a clear prophecy of\nendless woe and sorrow upon the rejecters. Then comes my text,\nalleviating the terror of that thought of destruction by showing the\nprinciples on which the reception and rejection are especially\nbased, the sort of people who receive and who reject. Then follows\nthe reason why the wise are shut out and the babes let in. That\nreason is not only God's inscrutable decree, but something in the\nvery nature of the Gospel. God is hidden from all human sight. There\nis one divine Revealer apart from whom all is darkness. 'Neither\ndoth any man know the Father save the Son, and he to whomsoever the\nSon willeth to reveal Him.' That is the characteristic which shuts\nout the wise and lets in the simple.\n\nThen follows the great call to all to come to Him. The practical\nissue of all these solemn thoughts is that the Gospel is a Gospel\nfor all the world, and that the one qualification for coming within\nthe terms of its offer is to be 'weary and heavy laden.' Thus all\nends in the broad universality of the message, in its adaptation to\nall, in its offer to all; and thus it is shown that every apparent\nexclusion of any is but the result of its free offer to all, and\nthat to say 'Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent'\nis but to say, 'Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the\nwaters.' Well then might joy fill the heart of the Man of Sorrows.\nWell might He lift up His solemn thanksgiving to God and say, 'I\nthank Thee, Father, Lord of Heaven and Earth.'\n\nConsider--\n\nI. The Great Characteristics of the Gospel.\n\nWe shall only understand the ground of the revealing and of the\nhiding if we understand what it is which is offered. It is of such a\nnature as necessarily to involve a twofold effect, caused by a\ntwofold attitude towards it.\n\n1. The Gospel addresses itself to all men--man as man--not to what\nis sectional or accidental, not to classes, not to schools, not to\nthe _\u00e9lite_. It is broad and universal. It speaks no dialect of\na province, but the universal language. It is addressed to Man as\nMan. 'We have all of us one human heart.' It appeals to the noble\nand the peasant, to the beggar on the dunghill and to the prince on\nhis throne, in precisely the same fashion. It is equal as the\nprovidence of God, impartial as the light, universal as the air\nwhich reddens equally the blood that flows in long-descended veins\nand that of the foundling on the streets. In its sublime\nuniversality there are no distinctions. Death and the Gospel know no\nranks. In both, 'the rich and the poor meet together, the Lord is\nthe Maker of them all.' 'In Christ Jesus there is neither\ncircumcision nor uncircumcision.' The blue sky which bends above all\nalike is like that great word.\n\n2. It treats all as utterly helpless.\n\n3. It offers to all Redemption as their most pressing want.\nConsequently, in substance it is the gift not of culture, but\ndeliverance, and in form it is not a theory but a fact, not a system\nof _credenda_ but an action, not an _-ology_ but a power.\n\n4. It demands from all submission and trust.\n\nThese being the characteristics, consider--\n\nII. The qualifications for reception as necessarily resulting from\nthe characteristics.\n\nThe persons who receive must be those who consent to take the\nstation which the Gospel assigns. They must be babes, by which is\nmeant not such as are innocent, but such as are reliant on a higher\nPower, self-distrustful, willing to obey.\n\nThese qualifications are all moral. The organ for reception of the\nGospel is the heart, not the head. To receive it by faith is a\nspiritual, not an intellectual process. Ignorance is no\nqualification nor no disqualification. Ignorance or knowledge is\nimmaterial. The one condition is to be willing to accept.\n\nIII. The disqualification of the wise as necessarily resulting from\nthe qualification.\n\nThe organ for the reception is not the head but the heart.\nTherefore, wisdom is a barrier only in this way, that it has nothing\nto do in the matter. Its presence or its absence is quite\nindifferent here as in many other spheres of experience. The joys of\nthe affections, the joys of common emotions, the joys of bodily\nlife--all these are utterly independent of the culture of the\nunderstanding.\n\nHence 'wisdom' becomes a barrier, because its possessors are\naccustomed to think it the master key. Not intellect, but the pride\nof intellect, trusting in it, glorying in wisdom is the\ndisqualification.\n\nIt is not true that there is any discord between religion and\ncultivated thought. The loftier the soul, the loftier all its\nattributes, the nobler should be, may be, its religion. It is not\ntrue that there is any natural affinity between ignorance and\nreligion, between narrow understandings and deep faith. That is not\nthe Bible truth. The religion of Christ is not like owls that love\nthe twilight, but like eagles that 'purge their sight at the very\nfountain itself of heavenly radiance.'\n\nTake history: the great names--an Augustine and a Luther, a Dante\nand a Milton, a Bacon and a Pascal--are enough to show that there is\nno antagonism. On the other hand, names enough rise to show that\nthere is no alliance. The inference is that the intellect has little\nto do with a man's attitude towards the Revelation of God in Christ,\nbut that the moral is all.\n\nLet me close with the repetition of the thought that the apparent\nexclusion is the result of the universality, and that 'Come unto Me'\nis Christ's commentary on my text. Well then may we rejoice when we\nthink of a gospel for the world. Whatever you are, it is for you if\nyou are a man. However foolish, though you cannot read a letter and\nknow nothing, it is for you. If you be enriched with all knowledge,\nyou must come on the same terms as that beggar at your side. That is\na healthy discipline. You are more than a student, than a scholar,\nthan a thinker; you are a man, you are a sinful man. There is a\ndeeper chamber in your heart than any into which knowledge can\npenetrate. Christ brings a gospel for all. When we think of it, with\nits sublime disregard of all peculiarities, we may well rejoice with\nhim who said, 'Ye see your calling, brethren,' and with Him, the\nloftiest, the incarnate, Wisdom who said, 'I thank Thee, Father.'\nFor if you rightly grasp the bearing of this text, and mark what\nfollows it in our Lord's heart and thoughts, you will see these deep\neyes of solemn joy turned from the heaven to you, filmy with\ncompassion, and those hands, then lifted in rapt devotion, stretched\nout to beckon you and all the world to His breast, and hear the\nvoice that rose in that burst of thanksgiving melting into\ntenderness as it woos you, be you wise or ignorant, to come to Him\nand rest.\n\n\n\n\nTHE REST GIVER\n\n\n    'Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden,\n    and I will give you rest. 29. Take My yoke upon you,\n    and learn of Me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and\n    ye shall find rest unto your souls.'--MATT. xi. 28, 29.\n\nOne does not know whether tenderness or majesty is predominant in\nthese wonderful words. A divine penetration into man's true\ncondition, and a divine pity, are expressed in them. Jesus looks\nwith clearsighted compassion into the inmost history of all hearts,\nand sees the toil and the sorrow which weigh on every soul. And no\nless remarkable is the divine consciousness of power, to succour and\nto help, which speaks in them. Think of a Jewish peasant of thirty\nyears old, opening his arms to embrace the world, and saying to all\nmen, 'Come and rest on My breast.' Think of a man supposing himself\nto be possessed of a charm which could soothe all sorrow and lift\nthe weight from every heart.\n\nA great sculptor has composed a group where there diverge from the\ncentral figure on either side, in two long lines, types of all the\ncruel varieties of human pains and pangs; and in the midst stands,\ncalm, pure, with the consciousness of power and love in His looks,\nand with outstretched hands, as if beckoning invitation and dropping\nbenediction, Christ the Consoler. The artist has but embodied the\nclaim which the Master makes for Himself here. No less remarkable is\nHis own picture of Himself, as 'meek and lowly in heart.' Did ever\nanybody before say, 'I am humble,' without provoking the comment,\n'He that says he is humble proves that he is not'? But Jesus Christ\nsaid it, and the world has allowed the claim; and has answered,\n'Though Thou bearest record of Thyself, Thy record is true.'\n\nBut my object now is not so much to deal with the revelation of our\nLord contained in these marvellous words, as to try, as well as I\ncan, to re-echo, however faintly, the invitation that sounds in\nthem. There is a very striking reduplication running through them\nwhich is often passed unnoticed. I shall shape my remarks so as to\nbring out that feature of the text, asking you to look first with me\nat the twofold designation of the persons addressed; next at the\ntwofold invitation; and last at the twofold promise of rest.\n\nI. Consider then the twofold designation here of the persons\naddressed, 'Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden.'\n\nThe one word expresses effort and toil, the other a burden and\nendurance. The one speaks of the active, the other of the passive,\nside of human misery and evil. Toil is work which is distasteful in\nitself, or which is beyond our faculties. Such toil, sometime or\nother, more or less, sooner or later, is the lot of every man. All\nwork becomes labour, and all labour, sometime or other, becomes\ntoil. The text is, first of all, and in its most simple and surface\nmeaning, an invitation to all the men who know how ceaseless, how\nwearying, how empty the effort and energy of life is, to come to\nthis Master and rest.\n\nYou remember those bitter words of the Book of Ecclesiastes, where\nthe preacher sets forth a circle of labour that only comes back to\nthe point where it began, as being the law for nature and the law\nfor man. And truly much of our work seems to be no better than that.\nWe are like squirrels in a cage, putting forth immense muscular\neffort, and nothing to show for it after all. 'All is vanity, and\nstriving after wind.'\n\nToil is a curse; work is a blessing. But all our work darkens into\ntoil; and the invitation, 'Come unto Me, all ye that labour,'\nreaches to the very utmost verge of the world and includes every\nsoul.\n\nAnd then, in like manner, the other side of human experience is set\nforth in that other word. For most men have not only to work, but to\nbear; not only to toil, but to sorrow. There are efforts that need\nto be put forth, which task all our energy, and leave the muscles\nflaccid and feeble. And many of us have, at one and the same moment,\nto work and to weep, to toil whilst our hearts are beating like a\nforge-hammer; to labour whilst memories and thoughts that might\nenfeeble any worker, are busy with us. A burden of sorrow, as well\nas effort and toil, is, sooner or later, the lot of all men.\n\nBut that is only surface. The twofold designation here before us\ngoes a great deal deeper than that. It points to two relationships\nto God and to God's law of righteousness. Men labour with vague and\nyet with noble effort, sometimes, to do the thing that is right, and\nafter all efforts there is left a burden of conscious defect. In the\npurest and the highest lives there come both of these things. And\nJesus Christ, in this merciful invitation of His, speaks to all the\nmen that have tried, and tried in vain, to satisfy their consciences\nand to obey the law of God, and says to them, 'Cease your efforts,\nand no longer carry that burden of failure and of sin upon your\nshoulders. Come unto Me, and I will give you rest.'\n\nI should be sorry to think that I was speaking to any man or woman\nwho had not, more or less, tried to do what is right. You have\nlaboured at that effort with more or less of consistency, with more\nor less of earnestness. Have you not found that you could not\nachieve it?\n\nI am sure that I am speaking to no man or woman who has not upon his\nor her conscience a great weight of neglected duties, of actual\ntransgressions, of mean thoughts, of foul words and passions, of\ndeeds that they would be ashamed that any should see; ashamed that\ntheir dearest should catch a glimpse of. My friend, universal\nsinfulness is no mere black dogma of a narrow Calvinism; it is no\nuncharitable indictment against the race; it is simply putting into\ndefinite words the consciousness that is in every one of your\nhearts. You know that, whether you like to think about it or not,\nyou have broken God's law, and are a sinful man. You carry a burden\non your back whether you realise the fact or no, a burden that clogs\nall your efforts, and that will sink you deeper into the darkness\nand the mire. 'Come unto Me, all ye that labour,' and with noble,\nbut, at bottom, vain, efforts have striven after right and truth.\n'Come unto Me all ye that are burdened,' and bear, sometimes\nforgetting it, but often reminded of its pressure by galled\nshoulders and wearied limbs, the burden of sin on your bent backs.\n\nThis invitation includes the whole race. In it, as in a blank form,\nyou may each insert your name. Jesus Christ speaks to thee, John,\nThomas, Mary, Peter, whatever thy name may be, as distinctly as if\nyou saw your name written on the pages of your New Testament, when\nHe says to you, 'Come unto Me, _all_ ye that labour and are\nheavy laden.' For the 'all' is but the sum of the units; and I, and\nthou, and thou, have our place within the word.\n\nII. Now, secondly, look at the twofold invitation that is here.\n\n'Come unto Me ... Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me.' These two\nthings are not the same. 'Coming unto Me,' as is quite plain to the\nmost superficial observation, is the first step in the approach to a\ncompanionship, which companionship is afterwards perfected and kept\nup by obedience and imitation. The 'coming' is an initial act which\nmakes a man Christ's companion. And the 'Take My yoke upon you, and\nlearn of Me,' is the continuous act by which that companionship is\nmanifested and preserved. So that in these words, which come so\nfamiliarly to most of our memories that they have almost ceased to\npresent a sharp meaning, there is not only a merciful summons to the\ninitial act, but a description of the continual life of which that\nact is the introduction.\n\nAnd now, to put that into simpler words, when Jesus Christ says\n'Come unto Me,' He Himself has taught us what is His inmost meaning\nin that invitation, by another word of His: 'He that cometh unto Me\nshall never hunger, and he that believeth on Me shall never thirst';\nwhere the parallelism of the clauses teaches us that to come to\nChrist is simply to put our trust in Him. There is in faith a true\nmovement of the whole soul towards the Master. I think that this\nmetaphor teaches us a great deal more about that faith that we are\nalways talking about in the pulpit, and which, I am afraid, many of\nour congregations do not very distinctly understand, than many a\nbook of theology does. To 'come to Him' implies, distinctly, that\nHe, and no mere theological dogma, however precious and clear, is\nthe Object on which faith rests.\n\nAnd, therefore, if Christ, and not merely a doctrinal truth about\nChrist, be the Object of our faith, then it is very clear that\nfaith, which grasps a Person, must be something more than the mere\nact of the understanding which assents to a truth. And what more is\nit? How is it possible for one person to lay hold of and to come to\nanother? By trust and love, and by these alone. These be the bonds\nthat bind men together. Mere intellectual consent may be sufficient\nto fasten a man to a dogma, but there must be will and heart at work\nto bind a man to a person; and if it be Christ and not a theology,\nto which we come by our faith, then it must be with something more\nthan our brains that we grasp Him and draw near to Him. That is to\nsay, your will is engaged in your confidence. Trust Him as you trust\none another, only with the difference befitting a trust directed to\nan absolute and perfect object of trust, and not to a poor, variable\nhuman heart. Trust Him as you trust one another. Then, just as\nhusband and wife, parent and child, friend and friend, pass through\nall intervening hindrances and come together when they trust and\nlove, so you come closer to Christ as the very soul of your soul by\nan inward real union, than you do even to your dear ones, if you\ngrapple Him to your heart with the hoops of steel, which, by simple\ntrust in Him, the Divine Redeemer forges for us. 'Come unto Me,'\nbeing translated out of metaphor into fact, is simply 'Believe on\nthe Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.'\n\nAnd still further, we have here, not only the initial act by which\ncompanionship and union with Jesus Christ is brought about, but the\ncontinual course by which it is kept up, and by which it is\nmanifested. The faith which saves a man's soul is not all which is\nrequired for a Christian life. 'Take My yoke upon you, and _learn\nof Me_.' The yoke is that which, laid on the broad forehead or\nthe thick neck of the ox, has attached to it the cords which are\nbound to the burden that the animal draws. The burden, then, which\nChrist gives to His servants to pull, is a metaphor for the specific\nduties which He enjoins upon them to perform; and the yoke by which\nthey are fastened to their burdens, 'obliged' to their duties, is\nHis authority, So to 'take His yoke' upon us is to submit our wills\nto His authority. Therefore this further call is addressed to all\nthose who have come to Him, feeling their weakness and their need\nand their sinfulness, and have found in Him a Saviour who has made\nthem restful and glad; and it bids them live in the deepest\nsubmission of will to Him, in joyful obedience, in constant service;\nand, above all, in the daily imitation of the Master.\n\nYou must put both these commandments together before you get\nChrist's will for His children completely expressed. There are some\nof you who think that Christianity is only a means by which you may\nescape the penalty of your sins; and you are ready enough, or fancy\nyourselves so, to listen when He says, 'Come to Me that you may be\npardoned,' but you are not so ready to listen to what He says\nafterwards, when He calls upon you to take His yoke upon you, to\nobey Him, to serve Him, and above all to copy Him. And I beseech you\nto remember that if you go and part these two halves from one\nanother, as many people do, some of them bearing away the one half\nand some the other, you have got a maimed Gospel; in the one case a\nfoundation without a building, and in the other case a building\nwithout a foundation. The people who say that Christ's call to the\nworld is 'Come unto Me,' and whose Christianity and whose Gospel is\nonly a proclamation of indulgence and pardon for past sin, have laid\nhold of half of the truth. The people who say that Christ's call is\n'Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me,' and that Christianity is a\nproclamation of the duty of pure living after the pattern of Jesus\nChrist our great Example, have laid hold of the other half of the\ntruth. And both halves bleed themselves away and die, being torn\nasunder; put them together, and each has power.\n\nThat separation is one reason why so many Christian men and women\nare such poor Christians as they are--having so little real\nreligion, and consequently so little real joy. I could lay my\nfingers upon many men, professing Christians--I do not say whether\nin this church or in other churches--whose whole life shows that\nthey do not understand that Jesus Christ has a twofold summons to\nHis servants; and that it is of no avail once, long ago, to have\ncome, or to think that you have come, to Him to get pardon, unless\nday by day you are keeping beside Him, doing His commandments, and\ncopying His sweet and blessed example.\n\nIII. And now, lastly, look at the twofold promise which is here.\n\nI do not know if there is any importance to be attached to the\nslight diversity of language in the two verses, so as that in the\none case the promise runs, 'I will _give_ you rest,' and in the\nother, 'Ye shall _find_ rest.' That sounds as if the rest that\nwas contingent upon the first of the invitations was in a certain\nand more direct and exclusive fashion Christ's gift than the rest\nwhich was contingent upon the second. It may be so, but I attach no\nimportance to that criticism; only I would have you observe that our\nLord distinctly separates here between the rest of 'coming,' and the\nrest of wearing His 'yoke.' These two, howsoever they may be like\neach other, are still not the same. The one is the perfecting and\nthe prolongation, no doubt, of the other, but has likewise in it\nsome other, I say not more blessed, elements. Dear brethren, here\nare two precious things held out and offered to us all. There is\nrest in coming to Christ; the rest of a quiet conscience which gnaws\nno more; the rest of a conscious friendship and union with God, in\nwhom alone are our soul's home, harbour, and repose; the rest of\nfears dispelled; the rest of forgiveness received into the heart. Do\nyou want that? Go to Christ, and as soon as you go to Him you will\nget that rest.\n\nThere is rest in faith. The very act of confidence is repose. Look\nhow that little child goes to sleep in its mother's lap, secure from\nharm because it trusts. And, oh! if there steal over our hearts such\na sweet relaxation of the tension of anxiety when there is some dear\none on whom we can cast all responsibility, how much more may we be\ndelivered from all disquieting fears by the exercise of quiet\nconfidence in the infinite love and power of our Brother Redeemer,\nChrist! He will be 'a covert from the storm, and a refuge from the\ntempest'; as 'rivers of water in a dry place, and the shadow of a\ngreat rock in a weary land.' If we come to Him, the very act of\ncoming brings repose.\n\nBut, brethren, that is not enough, and, blessed be God! that is not\nall. There is a further, deeper rest in obedience, and emphatically\nand most blessedly there is a rest in Christ-likeness. 'Take My yoke\nupon you.' There is repose in saying 'Thou art my Master, and to\nThee I bow.' You are delivered from the unrest of self-will, from\nthe unrest of contending desires, you get rid of the weight of too\nmuch liberty. There is peace in submission; peace in abdicating the\ncontrol of my own being; peace in saying, 'Take Thou the reins, and\ndo Thou rule and guide me.' There is peace in surrender and in\ntaking His yoke upon us.\n\nAnd most especially the path of rest for men is in treading in\nChrist's footsteps. 'Learn of Me,' it is the secret of tranquillity.\nWe have done with passionate hot desires,--and it is these that\nbreed all the disquiet in our lives--when we take the meekness and\nthe lowliness of the Master for our pattern. The river will no\nlonger roll, broken by many a boulder, and chafed into foam over\nmany a fall, but will flow with even foot, and broad, smooth bosom,\nto the parent sea.\n\nThere is quietness in self-sacrifice, there is tranquillity in\nceasing from mine own works and growing like the Master.\n\n  'The Cross is strength; the solemn Cross is gain.\n   The Cross is Jesus' breast,\n   Here giveth He the rest,\n   That to His best beloved doth still remain.'\n\n'Take up thy cross daily,' and thou enterest into His rest.\n\nMy brother, 'the wicked is like the troubled sea that cannot rest,\nwhose waters cast up mire and dirt.' But you, if you come to Christ,\nand if you cleave to Christ, may be like that 'sea of glass, mingled\nwith fire,' that lies pure, transparent, waveless before the Throne\nof God, over which no tempests rave, and which, in its deepest\ndepths, mirrors the majesty of 'Him that sitteth upon the Throne,\nand of the Lamb.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE PHARISEES' SABBATH AND CHRIST'S\n\n\n    'At that time Jesus went on the Sabbath day through the\n    corn; and His disciples were an hungred, and began to\n    pluck the ears of corn, and to eat. 2. But when the\n    Pharisees saw it they said unto Him, Behold, Thy\n    disciples do that which is not lawful to do upon the\n    Sabbath day. 3. But he said unto them, Have ye not read\n    what David did, when he was an hungred, and they that\n    were with him; 4. How he entered into the house of God,\n    and did eat the shewbread, which was not lawful for him\n    to eat, neither for them which were with him, but only\n    for the priests! 5. Or have ye not read in the law, how\n    that on the Sabbath days the priests in the temple\n    profane the Sabbath, and are blameless! 6. But I say\n    unto you, That in this place is one greater than the\n    temple. 7. But if ye had known what this meaneth, I\n    will have mercy, and not sacrifice, ye would not have\n    condemned the guiltless. 8. For the Son of Man is Lord\n    even of the Sabbath day 9. And when he was departed\n    thence, He went into their synagogue: 10. And, behold,\n    there was a man which had his hand withered. And they\n    asked Him, saying, Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath\n    days? that they might accuse Him. 11. And He said unto\n    them, What man shall there be among you, that shall have\n    one sheep, and if it fall into a pit on the Sabbath day,\n    will he not lay hold on it, and lift it out? 12. How\n    much then is a man better than a sheep? Wherefore it is\n    lawful to do well on the Sabbath days. 13. Then saith\n    He to the man, Stretch forth thine hand. And he\n    stretched it forth; and it was restored whole, like as\n    the other. 14. Then the Pharisees went out, and held a\n    counsel against Him, how they might destroy Him.'\n    --MATT. xii. 1-14.\n\nWe have had frequent occasion to point out that this Gospel is\nconstructed, not on chronological, but on logical lines. It groups\ntogether incidents related in subject, though separated in time.\nThus we have the collection of Christ's sayings in the Sermon on the\nMount, followed by the collection of doings in chapters viii. and\nix., the collected charge to His ambassadors in chapter x., the\ncollection of instances illustrative of the relations of different\nclasses to the message of the Kingdom and its King in chapter xi.,\nand now in this chapter a series of incidents setting forth the\ngrowing bitterness of antagonism on the part of the guardians of\ntraditional and ceremonial religion. This is followed, in the next\nchapter, with a series of parables.\n\nThe present lesson includes two Sabbath incidents, in the first of\nwhich the disciples are the transgressors of the sabbatic tradition;\nin the second, Christ's own action is brought into question. The\nscene of the first is in the fields, that of the second is in the\nsynagogue. In the one, Sabbath observance is set aside at the call\nof personal needs; in the other, at the call of another's calamity.\nSo the two correspond to the old Puritan principle that the Sabbath\nlaw allowed of 'works of necessity and of mercy.'\n\nI. The Sabbath and personal needs. This is a strange sort of King\nwho cannot even feed His servants. What a glimpse into the penury of\ntheir usual condition the quiet statement that the disciples were\nhungry gives us, especially if we remember that it is not likely\nthat the Master had fared better than they! Indeed, His reference to\nDavid and his band of hungry heroes suggests that 'He was an\nhungred' as well as 'they that were with Him.' As they traversed\nsome field path through the tall yellowing corn, they gathered a few\nears, as the merciful provision of the law allowed, and hastily\nbegan to eat the rubbed-out grains. As soon as they 'began,' the\neager Pharisees, who seem to have been at their heels, call Him to\n'behold' this dreadful crime, which, they think, requires His\nimmediate remonstrance. If they had had as sharp eyes for men's\nnecessities as for their faults, they might have given them food\nwhich it was 'lawful' to eat, and so obviated this frightful\niniquity. But that is not the way of Pharisees. Moses had not\nforbidden such gleaning, but the casuistry which had spun its\nmultitudinous webs over the law, hiding the gold beneath their dirty\nfilms, had decided that plucking the ears was of the nature of\nreaping, and reaping was work, and work was forbidden, which being\nsettled, of course the inferential prohibition became more important\nthan the law from which it was deduced. That is always the case with\nhuman conclusions from revelation; and the more questionable these\nare, the more they are loved by their authors, as the sickly child\nof a family is the dearest.\n\nOur Lord does not question the authority of the tradition, nor ask\nwhere Moses had forbidden what His disciples were doing. Still less\ndoes He touch the sanctity of the Jewish Sabbath. He accepts His\nquestioners' position, for the time, and gives them a perfect answer\non their own ground. Perhaps there may be just a hint in the double\n'Have ye not read?' that they could not produce Scripture for their\nprohibition, as He would do for the liberty which He allowed. He\nquotes two instances in which ceremonial obligations gave way before\nhigher law. The first, that of David and his followers eating the\nshew-bread, which was tabooed to all but priests, is perhaps chosen\nwith some reference to the parallel between Himself, the true King,\nnow unrecognised and hunted with His humble followers, and the\nfugitive outlaw with his band. It is but a veiled allusion at most;\nbut, if it fell on good soil, it might have led some one to ask, 'If\nthis is David, where is Saul, and where is Doeg, watching him to\naccuse him?' This example serves our Lord's purpose of showing that\neven a divine prohibition, if it relates to mere ceremonial matter,\nmelts, like wax, before even bodily necessities. What a thrill of\nholy horror would meet the enunciation of the doctrine that such a\ncarnal thing as hunger rightfully abrogated a sacred ritual\nproscription! The law of right is rigid; that of external ceremonies\nis flexible. Better that a man should die than that the one should\nbe broken; better that the other should be flung to the winds than\nthat a hungry man should go unfed. It may reasonably be doubted\nwhether all Christian communities have learned the sweep of that\nprinciple yet, or so judge of the relative importance of keeping up\ntheir appointed forms of worship, and of feeding their hungry\nbrother. The brave Ahimelech, 'the son of Ahitub,' was ahead of a\ngood many people of to-day.\n\nThe second example comes still closer to the question in hand, and\nsupplies the reference to the Sabbath law, which the former had not.\nThere was much hard work done in the temple on the Sabbath--sacrifices\nto be slain, fires and lamps to be kindled, and so on. That was not\nSabbath desecration. Why? Because it was done in the temple, and as a\npart of divine service. The sanctity of the place, and the consequent\nsanctity of the service, exempted it from the operation of the law.\nThe question, no doubt, was springing to the lips of some scowling\nPharisee, 'And what has that to do with our charge against your\ndisciples?' when it was answered by the wonderful next words, 'In\nthis place'--here among the growing corn, beneath the free heaven, far\naway from Jerusalem--'is one greater than the temple.' Profound words,\nwhich could only sound as blasphemy or nonsense to the hearers, but\nwhich touch the deepest truths concerning His person and His relations\nto men, and which involve the destruction of all temples and rituals.\nHe is all that the temple symbolised. In Him the Godhead really dwells;\nHe is the meeting-place of God and man, the place of the oracle, the\nplace of sacrifice. Then, where He stands is holy ground, and all work\ndone with reference to Him is worship. These poor followers of His are\npriests; and if, for His sake, they had broken a hundred Sabbath\nregulations, they were guiltless.\n\nSo far our Lord has been answering His opponents; now He attacks.\nThe quotation from Hosea is often on His lips. Here He uses it to\nunmask the real motives of His assailants. Their murmuring came not\nfrom more religion, but from less love. If they had had a little\nmore milk of human kindness in them, it would have died on their\nlips; if they had grasped the real meaning of the religion they\nprofessed, they would have learned that its soul was 'mercy'--that\nis, of course, man's gentleness to man--and that sacrifice and\nceremony were but the body, the help, and sometimes the hindrance,\nof that soul. They would have understood the relative importance of\ndisposition and of external worship, as end and means, and not have\nvisited a mere breach of external order with a heat of disapprobation\nonly warranted by a sin against the former. Their judgment would have\nbeen liker God's if they had looked at those poor hungry men with\nmerciful eyes and with merciful hearts, rather than with eager scrutiny\nthat delighted to find them tripping in a triviality of outward\nobservance. What mountains of harsh judgment by Christ's own followers\non each other would have been removed into the sea if the spirit of\nthese great words had played upon them!\n\nThe 'for' at the beginning of verse 8 seems to connect with the last\nwords of the preceding verse, 'I call them guiltless, for,' etc. It\nstates more plainly still the claim already put forward in verse 6.\n'The Son of Man,' no doubt, is equivalent to 'Messiah'; but it is\nmore, as revealing at once Christ's true manhood and His unique and\ncomplete manhood, in which the very ideal of man is personally\nrealised. It can never be detached from His other name, the 'Son of\nGod.' They are the obverse and reverse of the same golden coin. He\nasserts His power over the Sabbath, as enjoined upon Israel. His is\nthe authority which imposed it. It is plastic in His hands. The\nwhole order of which it is part has its highest purpose in\nwitnessing of Him. He brings the true 'rest.'\n\nII. The Sabbath, and works of beneficence. Matthew appears to have\nbrought together here two incidents which, according to Luke, were\nseparated in time. The scene changes to a synagogue, perhaps that of\nCapernaum. Among the worshippers is a man with 'a withered hand,'\nwho seems to have been brought there by the Pharisees as a bait to\ntry to draw out Christ's compassion. What a curious state of mind\nthat was,--to believe that Christ could work miracles, and to want\nHim to do one, not for pity's sake, nor for confirmation of faith,\nbut to have material for accusing Him! And how heartlessly careless\nof the poor sufferer they are, when they use him thus! He for his\npart stands silent. Desire and faith have no part in evoking this\nmiracle. Deadly hatred and calculating malignity ask for it, and for\nonce they get their wish. Having baited their hook, and set the man\nwith his shrunken hand full in view, they get into their corners and\nwait the event. Matthew tells us that they ask our Lord the question\nwhich Luke represents Him as asking them. Perhaps we may say that He\ngave voice to the question which they were asking in their hearts.\nTheir motive is distinctly given here. They wanted material for a\nlegal process before a local tribunal. The whole thing was an\nattempt to get Jesus within the meshes of the law. Again, as in the\nformer case, it is the traditional, not the written, law, which\nhealing would have broken. The question evidently implies that, in\nthe judgment of the askers, healing was unlawful. Talmudical\nscholars tell us that in later days the rabbis differed on the\npoint, but that the prevalent opinion was, that only sicknesses\nthreatening immediate danger to life could lawfully be treated on\nthe Sabbath. The more rigid doctrine was obviously held by Christ's\nquestioners. It is a significant instance of the absurdity and\ncruelty which are possible when once religion has been made a matter\nof outward observance. Nothing more surely and completely ossifies\nthe heart and blinds common sense.\n\nIn His former answer Jesus had appealed to Scripture to bear out His\nteaching that Sabbath observance must bend to personal necessities.\nHere He appeals to the natural sense of compassion to confirm the\nprinciple that it must give way to the duty of relieving others. His\nquestion is as confident of an answer as the Pharisees' had been.\nBut though He takes it for granted that His hearers could only\nanswer it in one way, the microscopic and cold-blooded ingenuity of\nthe rabbis, since His day, answers it in another. They say, 'Don't\nlift the poor brute out, but throw in a handful of fodder, and\nsomething for him to lie upon, and let him be till next day.' A\nremarkable way of making 'thine ox and thine ass' keep the Sabbath!\nThere is a delicacy of expression in the question; the owner of 'one\nsheep' would be more solicitous about it than if he had a hundred;\nand our Shepherd looks on all the millions of His flock with a heart\nas much touched by their sorrow and needs as if each were His only\npossession. The question waits for no answer; but Christ goes on (as\nif there could be but one reply) to His conclusion, which He binds\nto His first question by another, equally easy to answer. Man's\nsuperiority to animals makes his claim for help more imperative.\n'You would not do less for one another than for a sheep in a hole,\nsurely.' But the form in which our Lord put His conclusive answer to\nthe Pharisees gives an unexpected turn to the reply. He does not\nsay, 'It is lawful to heal,' but, 'It is lawful to do well,' thus at\nonce showing the true justification of healing, namely, that it was\na beneficent act, and widening the scope of His answer to cover a\nwhole class of cases. 'To do well' here means, not to do right, but\nto do good, to benefit men. The principle is a wide one: the\ncharitable succour of men's needs, of whatever kind, is congruous\nwith the true design of that day of rest. Have the churches laid\nthat lesson to heart? On the whole, it is to be observed that our\nLord here distinctly recognises the obligation of the Sabbath, that\nHe claims power over it, that He permits the pressure of one's own\nnecessities and of others' need of help, to modify the manner of its\nobservance, and that He leaves the application of these principles\nto the spiritual insight of His followers.\n\nThe cure which follows is done in a singular fashion. Without a\nwhisper of request from the sufferer or any one else, He heals him\nby a word. His command has a promise in it, and He gives the power\nto do what He bids the man do. 'Give what Thou commandest,' says St.\nAugustine, 'and command what Thou wilt.' We get strength to obey in\nthe act of obedience. But beyond the possible symbolical\nsignificance of the mode of cure, and beyond the revelation of\nChrist's power to heal by a word, the manner of healing had a\nspecial reason in the very cavils of the Pharisees. Not even they\ncould accuse Him of breaking any Sabbath law by such a cure. What\nhad He done? Told the man to put out his hand. Surely that was not\nunlawful. What had the man done? Stretched it forth. Surely that\nbroke no subtle rabbinical precept. So they were foiled at every\nturn, driven off the field of argument, and baffled in their attempt\nto find ground for laying an information against Him. But neither\nHis gentle wisdom nor His healing power could reach these hearts,\nmade stony by conceit and pedantic formalism; and all that their\ncontact with Jesus did was to drive them to intenser hostility, and\nto send them away to plot His death. That is what comes of making\nreligion a round of outward observances. The Pharisee is always\nblind as an owl to the light of God and true goodness; keen-sighted\nas a hawk for trivial breaches of his cobweb regulations, and cruel\nas a vulture to tear with beak and claw. The race is not extinct. We\nall carry one inside us, and need God's help to cast him out.\n\n\n\n\nAN ATTEMPT TO ACCOUNT FOR JESUS\n\n\n    'But when the Pharisees heard it, they said, This man\n    doth not cast out demons, but by Beelzebub, the prince\n    of the demons.'--MATT. xii. 24.\n\nMark's Gospel tells us that this astonishing explanation of Christ\nand His work was due to the ingenious malice of an ecclesiastical\ndeputation, sent down from Jerusalem to prevent the simple folk in\nGalilee from being led away by this new Teacher. They must have been\nvery hard put to it to explain undeniable but unwelcome facts, when\nthey hazarded such a preposterous theory.\n\nFormal religionists never know what to make of a man who is in\nmanifest touch with the unseen. These scribes, like Christ's other\ncritics, judged themselves in judging Him, and bore witness to the\nvery truths that they were eager to deny. For this ridiculous\nexplanation admits the miraculous, recognises the impossibility of\naccounting for Christ on any naturalistic hypothesis, and by its\nvery outrageous absurdity indicates that the only reasonable\nexplanation of the facts is the admission of His divine message and\nauthority. So we may learn, even from such words as these, how the\nglory of Jesus Christ shines, though distorted and blurred, through\nthe fogs of prejudice and malice.\n\nI. Note, then, first, the unwelcome and undeniable facts that insist\nupon explanation.\n\nI have said that these hostile critics attest the reality of the\nmiracles. I know that it is not fashionable at present to attach\nmuch weight to the fact that none of all the enemies that saw them\never had a doubt about the reality of Christ's miracles. I know\nquite well that in an age that believed in the possibility of the\nsupernatural, as this age does not, credence would be more easy, and\nthat such testimony is less valuable than if it had come from a jury\nof scientific twentieth century sceptics. But I know, on the other\nhand, that for long generations the expectation of the miraculous\nhad died out before Christ came; that His predecessor, John the\nBaptist, made no such claims; and that, at first, at all events,\nthere was no expectation of Jesus working miracles, to lead to any\ninitial ease of acceptance of His claims. And I know that there were\nnever sharper and more hostile eyes brought to bear upon any man and\nhis work than the eyes of these ecclesiastical 'triers.' It would\nhave been so easy and so triumphant a way of ending the whole\nbusiness if they could have shown, what they were anxious to be able\nto show, that the miracle was a trick. And so I venture to think\nthat not without some weight is the attestation from the camp of the\nenemy, 'This man casteth out demons.'\n\nBut you have to remember that amongst the facts to be explained is\nnot only this one of Christ's works having passed muster with His\nenemies, but the other of His own reiterated and solemn claim to\nhave the power of working what we call miracles. Now, I wish to\ndwell on that for one moment, because it is fashionable to put one's\nthumb upon it nowadays. It is not unusual to eliminate from the\nGospel narrative all that side of it, and then to run over in\neulogiums about the rest. But what we have to deal with is this\nfact, that the Man whom the world admits to be the consummate flower\nof humanity, meek, sane, humble, who has given all generations\nlessons in self-abnegation and devotion, claimed to be able to raise\nthe dead, to cast out demons, and to do many wonderful works. And\nthough we should be misrepresenting the facts if we said that He did\nwhat His followers have too often been inclined to do, _i.e._\nrested the stress of evidence upon that side of His work, yet it is\nan equal exaggeration in the other direction to do, as so many are\ninclined to do to-day, _i.e._ disparage the miraculous evidence\nas no evidence at all. 'Go and tell John the things that ye see and\nhear,'--that is His own answer to the question, 'Art Thou He that\nshould come?' And though I rejoice to believe that there are far\nloftier and more blessed answers to it than these outward signs and\ntokens, they _are_ signs and tokens; and they are part of the\nwhole facts that have to be accounted for.\n\nI would venture to widen the reference of my text for a moment, and\ninclude not only the actual miracles of our Lord's earthly life, but\nall the beneficent, hallowing, elevating, ennobling, refining\nresults which have followed upon the proclamation of His truth in\nthe world ever since. I believe, as I think Scripture teaches me to\nbelieve, that in the world today Christ is working; and that it is a\nmistake to talk about the results of 'Christianity,' meaning thereby\nsome abstract system divorced from Him. It is the working of Jesus\nChrist in the world that has brought 'nobler manners, purer laws';\nthat has given a new impulse and elevation to art and literature;\nthat has lifted the whole tone of society; that has suppressed\nancient evils; that has barred the doors of old temples of devildom,\nof lust, and cruelty, and vice; and that is still working in the\nworld for the elevation and the deifying of humanity. And I claim\nthe whole difference between 'B.C. and A.D.'--the whole difference\nbetween Christendom and Heathendom--as being the measure of the\ncontinuous power with which Jesus Christ has grappled with and\nthrottled the snakes that have fastened on men. That continuous\noperation of His in delivering from the powers of evil has, indeed,\nnot yielded such results as might have been expected. But just as on\nearth He was hindered in the exercise of His supernatural power by\nmen's unbelief, so that 'He could do no mighty works, save that He\nlaid His hands on a few sick folk' here and there, 'and healed\nthem,' so He has been thwarted by His Church, and hindered in the\nworld, from manifesting the fulness of His power. But yet,\nsorrowfully admitting that, and taking as deserved the scoffs of the\nmen that say, 'Your Christianity does not seem to do so very much\nafter all,' I still venture to allege that its record is unique; and\nthat these are facts which wise men ought to take into account, and\nhave some fairly plausible way of explaining.\n\nII. Secondly, note the preposterous explanation.  'This man doth not\ncast out demons, but by Beelzebub, the prince of the demons.' That\nis the last resort of prejudice so deep that it will father an\nabsurdity rather than yield to evidence. And Christ has no\ndifficulty in putting it aside, as you may remember, by a piece of\ncommon sense: 'If Satan cast out Satan, he is divided against\nhimself, and his kingdom cannot stand.' There is an old play which\nhas for its title, _The Devil as an Ass._ He is not such an ass\nas that, to build up with one hand and cast down with the other. As\nthe proverb has it, 'Hawks do not pick out hawks' eyes.' But this\nplainly hopeless attempt to account for Christ and His work may be\nturned into a witness for both, and yield not unimportant lessons.\n\nThis explanation witnesses to the insufficiency of all explanations\nwhich omit the supernatural. These men felt that they had to do with\na Man who was in touch with a whole world of unseen powers; and that\nthey had here to deal with something to which ordinary measuring\nlines were palpably inapplicable. And so they fell back upon 'by\nBeelzebub'; and they thereby admitted that humanity without\nsomething more at the back of it never made such a man as that. And\nI beg you to lay that to heart. It is very easy to solve an\ninsoluble problem if you begin by taking all the insoluble elements\nout of it. And that is how a great deal of modern thinking does with\nChristianity. Knock out all the miracles; pooh-pooh all Christ's\nclaims; say nothing about Incarnation; declare Resurrection to be\nentirely unhistorical, and you will not have much difficulty in\naccounting for the rest; and it will not be worth the accounting\nfor. But here is the thing to be dealt with, that _whole_ life,\nthe Christ of the Gospels. And I venture to say that any explanation\nprofessing to account for Him which leaves out His coming from an\nunseen world, and His possession of powers above this world of sense\nand nature, is ludicrously inadequate. Suppose you had a chain which\nfor thousands of years had been winding on to a drum, and link after\nlink had been rough iron, and all at once there comes one of pure\ngold, would it be reasonable to say that it had been dug from the\nsame mine, and forged in the same fires, as its black and ponderous\ncompanions? Generation after generation has passed across the earth,\neach begetting sons after its own likeness; and lo! in the midst of\nthem starts up one sinless Man. Is it reasonable to say that He is\nthe product of the same causes which have produced all the millions,\nand never another like Him? Surely to account for Jesus without the\nsupernatural is hopeless.\n\nFurther, this explanation may be taken as an instance showing the\ninadequacy of all theories and explanations of Christ and\nChristianity from an unbelieving point of view. It was the first\nattempt of unbelievers to explain where Christ's power came from.\nLike all first attempts, it was crude, and it has been amended and\nrefined since. Earlier generations did not hesitate to call the\nApostles liars, and Christ's contemporaries did not hesitate to call\nHim 'this deceiver.' We have got beyond that; but we still are met\nby explanations of the power of the Gospel and of Christ, its\nsubject and Author, which trace these to ignoble elements, and do\nnot shrink from asserting that a blunder or a hallucination lies at\nthe foundation.\n\nNow, I am not going to enter upon these matters at any length, but I\nwould just recall to you our Lord's broad, simple principle: 'A\ncorrupt tree cannot bring forth good fruit, neither doth a good tree\nbring forth evil fruit.' And I would apply that all round. Christian\nteachers have often made great mistakes, as it seems to me, by\ntracing the prevalence of the power of some heathen religions to\ntheir vices and lies. No system has ever had great moral power in\nthis world but by reason of its excellences and truths. Mohammedanism,\nfor instance, swept away, and rightly, a mere formal superstition which\ncalled itself Christianity, because it grasped the one truth: 'There is\nno God but God'; and it had faith of a sort. Monasticism held the\nfield in Europe, with all its faults, for centuries, because it enshrined\nthe great Christian truth of self-sacrifice and absolute obedience.\nAnd you may take it as a fixed rule, that howsoever some 'mixture of\nfalsehood doth ever please,' as Bacon says, in his cynical way, the\nreason for the power of any great movement has been the truth that was\nin it and not the lie; and the reason why great men have exercised\ninfluence has been their greatness and their goodness, and not their\nsmallnesses and their vices.\n\nI apply that all round, and I ask you to apply it to Christianity;\nand in the light of such plain principles to answer the question:\n'Where did this Man, so fair, so radiant, so human and yet so\nsuperhuman, so universal and yet so individual--where did He come\nfrom? and where did the Gospel, which flows from Him, and which has\ndone such things in the world as it has done--where did it come\nfrom? 'Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?' If it\nis true that Jesus Christ is either mistakenly represented in the\nGospels, or that He made enthusiastic claims which cannot be\nverified; and if it is true that the faith in a Resurrection on\nwhich Christianity is suspended, and which has produced such fruits\nas we know have been produced, is a delusion; then all I can say is\nthat the noblest lives that ever were lived in the world have found\ntheir impulse in a falsehood or a dream; and that the richest\nclusters that ever have yielded wine for the cup have grown upon a\nthorn. If like produces like, you cannot account for Christ and\nChristianity by anything short of the belief in His Divine mission.\nSerpents' eggs do not hatch out into doves. This Man, when He\nclaimed to be God's Son and the world's Saviour, was no brain-sick\nenthusiast; and the results show that the Gospel which His followers\nproclaim rests upon no lie.\n\nAgain, this explanation is an instance of the credulity of unbelief.\nThink of the mental condition which could swallow such an\nexplanation of such a Worker and such work. It is more difficult to\nbelieve the explanation than the alternative which it is framed to\nescape. So it is always. The difficulties of faith are small by\ncomparison with those of unbelief, gnats beside camels, and that\nthat is so is plain from the short duration of each unbelieving\nexplanation of Jesus. One can remember in the compass of one's own\nlife more than one assailant taking the field with much trumpeting\nand flag-waving, whose attack failed and is forgotten. The child's\nstory tells of a giant who determined to slay his enemy, and\nbelaboured an empty bed with his club all night, and found his foe\nuntouched and fresh in the morning. The Gospel is here; what has\nbecome of its assailants? They are gone, and the limbo into which\nthe scribes' theory has passed will receive all the others. So we\nmay be quite patient, and sure that the sieve of time, which is\nslowly and constantly working, will riddle out all the rubbish, and\ncast it on the dunghill where so many exploded theories rot\nforgotten.\n\nIII. And now, one word about the last point; and that is--the true\nexplanation.\n\nNow, at this stage of my sermon, I must not be tempted to say a word\nabout the light which our Lord throws, in these declarations in the\ncontext, into that dim unseen world. His words seem to me to be too\nsolemn and didactic to be taken as accommodations to popular\nprejudice, and a great deal too grave to be taken as mere metaphor.\nAnd I, for my part, am not so sure that, apart from Him, I know all\nthings in heaven and earth, as to venture to put aside these solemn\nwords of His--which lift a corner of the veil which hides the\nunseen--and to dismiss them as unworthy of notice. Is it not a\nstrange thing that a world which is so ready to believe in spiritual\ncommunications when they are vouched for by a newspaper editor, is\nso unwilling to believe them when they are in the Bible? And is it\nnot a strange thing that scientists, who are always taunting\nChristians with the importance they attach to man in the plan of the\nuniverse, and ask if all these starry orbs were built for him,\nshould be so incredulous of teachings which fill the waste places\nwith loftier beings? But that is by the way.\n\nWhat does Christ say in the context? He tells the secret of His power.\n'I, by the Spirit of God, cast out demons.' And then He goes on to\nspeak about a conflict that He wages with a strong man; and about His\nbinding the strong man, and spoiling his house. All which, being\nturned into modern language, is just this, that the Lord, by His\nincarnation, life, death, resurrection, ascension, and government at\nthe right hand of God, has broken the powers of evil in their central\nhold. He has crushed the serpent's head; and though He may still, as\nMilton puts it, 'swinge the scaly horror of his folded tail,' it is\nbut the flurries of the dying brute. The conquering heel is firm on\nhis head. So, brethren, evil is conquered, and Christ is the Conqueror;\nand by His work in life and death He has delivered them that were held\ncaptive of the devil. And you and I may, if we will, pass into 'the\nliberty wherewith Christ has made us free.'\n\nThat is the only explanation of Him--in His person, in His character,\nin His work, and in the effects of that work in the world--that\ncovers all the facts, and will hold water. All others fail, and they\nmostly fail by boldly eliminating the very facts that need to be\naccounted for. Let us rather look to Him, thankful that our Brother\nhas conquered; and let us put our trust in that Saviour. For, if His\nexplanation is true, then a very solemn personal consideration arises\nfor each of us, 'If I, by the Spirit of God, cast out demons, then\nthe Kingdom of God is come unto you,' it stands beside us; it calls\nfor our obedience. Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ alone, can cast the\nevils out of our natures. It is the Incarnate Christ, the Divine\nChrist, the crucified Christ, the ascended Christ, the indwelling\nChrist, who will so fill our hearts that there shall be no aching\nvoids there to invite the return of the expelled tyrants. If any\nother reformation pass upon us than the thorough one of receiving Him\nby faith into our hearts, then, though they may be swept and garnished,\nthey will be empty; and the demons will come back. With Jesus\ninside--they will be outside.\n\n\n\n\n'MAKE THE TREE GOOD'\n\n\n    '... Make the tree good, and his fruit good....'\n    --MATT. xii. 33.\n\nIn this Gospel we find that our Lord twice uses this image of a tree\nand its fruit. In the Sermon on the Mount He applies it as a test to\nfalse teachers, who hide, beneath the wool of the sheep's clothing,\nthe fangs and paws of ravening wolves. He says, 'By their deeds ye\nshall know them; for as is the tree so is its fruit.' That is a\nrough and ready test, which applies rather to the teacher than to\nhis doctrine, but it applies, to some extent, to the doctrine too,\non the hypothesis that the teacher's life fairly represents it. Of\ncourse, it is not the only thing that we have to take into account;\nbut it may prick many a bladder, and unmask many an error, and it is\nthe way by which the masses generally judge of systems and of their\napostles. A saintly life has more power than dusty volumes of\ncontroversy.\n\nBut in our text Christ applies the same thoughts in rather a deeper\nfashion. Here the lesson that He would have us draw is of the\nconnection between character and conduct; how what we do is\ndetermined by what we are, and how, not of course with the same\nabsolute regularity and constancy, but still somewhat in the same\nfashion as the fruit is true to the tree, so, after all allowance\nmade for ups and downs, for the irregular play of will and\nconscience, for the strife that is waged within a man, for the\ntemptations of external circumstances, and the like--still, in\ngeneral, as is the inner man, so is the outward manifestation. The\nfacts of a life are important mainly as registering and making\nvisible the inner condition of the doer. Now, that seems very\nelementary. Everybody believes that 'out of the heart are the issues\nof life,' as a wise man said long ago, but it is one of the truths\nthat, if grasped and worked into our consciousness, and out in our\nlives, would do much to revolutionise them. And so, though it is a\nvery old story, and though we all admit it, I wish now to come face\nto face with the consequences of this thought, that behind action\nlies character, and that Doing is the second step, and Being is the\nfirst.\n\nI. I would ask you to notice how here we are confronted with the\ngreat problem for every man.\n\n'Make the tree good.' It takes a good man to do good things. So how\nshallow is all that talk, 'do, do, do,' this, that, and the other\nthing. All right, but _be_; that is the first thing; or, as\nChrist said, 'Make the tree good, and the fruit' will take care of\nitself. So do you not see how, if that is true about us, we are each\nbrought full front up to this, 'Am I trying to make my tree good?\nAnd what kind of success am I having in the attempt?' The water that\nrises from some spring will bring up with it, in solution, a trace\nof a bed of salt through which it has come, and of all the minerals\nin the soil through which it has passed. And as its sparkling waters\ncome out into the light, if one could analyse them completely, one\nmight register a geological section of the strata through which it\nhas risen. So, our acts bear in them a revelation of all the hidden\nbeds through which they have risen; and sometimes they are bitter\nand salt, but they are always true to the self whose apocalypse they\nare to the world, or at all events to God.\n\nTherefore, brethren, I have to urge this, that we shall not be doing\nour true work as men and women, if we are simply trying to better our\nactions, important as these are. By this saying the centre of gravity\nis shifted, and in one aspect, the deeds are made less important. The\ncondition of the hidden man of the heart is the all-important thing.\nChrist's word comes to each of us as the briefest statement of all\nthat it is our highest duty and truest wisdom to aim at in life--'Make\nthe tree good.'\n\nIf you have ever tried it honestly, and have not been contented with\nthe superficial cleaning up of outsides, which consists in shifting\nthe dirt into another place only, not in getting rid of it, I know\nwhat met you almost as soon as you began, like some great black rock\nthat rises in a mountain-pass, and forbids all farther advance--the\nconsciousness that you were _not_ good met you. I am not going\nto talk theological technicalities. Never mind about phrases--they\nhave been the ruin of a great deal of earnest preaching--call it what\nyou like, here is a fact, that whenever a man sets himself, with\nanything like resolute determination and rigid self-examination, to\nthe task of getting himself right, he finds that he is wrong. That\nbeing the case, each of us has to deal with a tremendous problem; and\nthe more earnestly and honestly we try to deal with it, the more we\nshall feel how grave it is. You can cure a great deal, I know. God\nforbid that I should say one word that seems to deny a man's power to\ndo much in the direction of self-improvement, but after all that is\ndone, again you are brought short up on this fact, the testimony of\nconscience. And so I see men labouring at a task as vain as that of\nthose who would twist the sands into ropes, according to the old\nfable. I see men seeking after higher perfection of purity than they\nwill ever attain. That is the condition of us all, of course, for our\nideal must always outrun our realisation, else we may as well lie down\nand die. But there is a difference between the imperfect approximation,\nwhich we feel to be imperfect, and yet feel to be approximation, and\nthe despairing consciousness, that I am sure a great many of my\naudience have had, more or less, that I have a task set for me that is\nfar beyond my strength. 'Talk about making the tree good! I cannot do\nit.' So men fold their hands, and the foiled endeavour begets despair.\nOr, as is the case with some of you, it begets indifference, and you\ndo not care to try any more, because you have tried so often, and have\nmade nothing of it.\n\nThere is the problem, how 'make the tree good,' the tree being bad,\nor, at all events, if you do not like that broad statement, the tree\nhaving an element of badness, if I may so say, in and amongst any\ngoodness that it has. I do not care which of the two forms of\nstatement you take, the fact remains the same.\n\nII. Note the universal failure to solve the problem.\n\n'Make the tree good.'\n\nYes. And there are a whole set of would-be arboriculturists who tell\nyou they will do it if you will trust to them. Let us look at them.\nFirst comes one venerable personage. He says, 'I am Law, and I\nprescribe this, and I forbid that, and I show reward and punishment,\nand I tell you--be a good man.' Well! what then? It is not for want of\ntelling that men are bad. The worst man in the world knows his duty a\ngreat deal more than the best man in the world does it. And whether it\nis the law of the land, or whether it is the law of society, or the\nlaw written in Scripture, or the law written in a man's own heart,\nthey all come under the same fatal disability. They tell us what to\ndo, and they do not put out a finger to help us to do it. A lame man\ndoes not get to the city because he sees a guide-post at the turning\nwhich tells him which road to take. The people who do not believe in\ncertain modern agitations about the restrictions of the liquor traffic\nsay, 'You cannot make people sober by Act of Parliament,' which is\nabsolutely true, although it does not bear, I think, the inference that\nthey would draw from it, and it just puts into a rough form the fatal\nweakness of this would-be gardener and improver of the nature of the\ntrees. He tells us our duty, and there an end.\n\nDo you remember how the Apostle put the weakness of law in words,\nthe antique theological terminology of which should not prevent us\nfrom seeing the large truth in them? 'If there had been a law given\nwhich could have given life, then righteousness should have been by\nthe law,' which being translated into modern English is just this,\nIf Law could impart a power to obey its behests, then it is all that\nwe want to make us right. But until it can do that it fails in two\npoints. It deals with conduct, and we need to have character dealt\nwith; and it does not lift the burden that it lays on me with one of\nits fingers. So we may rule Law out of court.\n\nAnd then comes another, and he says, 'I am Culture, and intellectual\nacquirement; or my name is Education, and I am going to make the\ntree good in the most scientific fashion, because what makes men bad\nis that they do not know, and if they only knew they would do the\nright.' Now, I thoroughly believe that education diminishes crime. I\nbelieve it weans from certain forms of evil. I believe that, other\nthings being equal, an educated man, with his larger interests and\nhis cultivated tastes, has a certain fastidiousness developed which\nkeeps him from being so much tempted by the grosser forms of\ntransgression. I believe that very largely you will empty your gaols\nin proportion as you fill your schools. And let no man say that I am\nan obscurantist, or that I am indifferent to the value of education\nand the benefits of intellectual culture, when I declare that all\nthese may be attained, and the nature of the tree remain exactly\nwhat it was. You may prune, you may train along the wall, you may\nget bigger fruit, you will not get better fruit. Did you ever hear\nthe exaggerated line that describes one of the pundits of science as\n'the greatest, wisest, meanest of mankind'? The plain fact is that\nthe cultivation of the understanding has little to do with the\npurifying of the depths of the heart.\n\nAnd then comes another, and says, 'I am the genius of Beauty and Art.\nAnd my recipe is pictures and statues, and all that will refine the\nmind, and lift the taste.' That is the popular gospel of this day, in\na great many quarters. Yes, and have we never heard of a period in\nEuropean history which was, as they call it, 'the Renaissance' of art\nand the death of morality? Do we not know that side by side there have\nbeen cultivated in all ages, and are being cultivated to-day, the most\nexclusive devotion to the beauty that can be expressed by art, and the\nmost intense indifference to the beauty of holiness? Ah! brethren, it\nwants something far deeper-going than pictures to purge the souls of\nmen. And whilst, as before, I thankfully acknowledge the refining\ninfluence of this new cult, I would protest against the absurdity of\nputting it upon a pedestal as the guide and elevator of corrupted\nhumanity.\n\nAnd then come others, and they say, 'Environment is the thing that\nis to blame for it all. How can you get decent lives in the slums?'\nNo, I know you cannot; and God bless every effort made to get the\npeople out of the slums, I say. Only do not let us exaggerate. You\ncannot change a man, as deeply as we need to be changed, by any\nchange of his circumstances. 'Take the bitter tree,' as I remember\nan old Jewish saying has it, 'take the bitter tree and plant it in\nEden, and water it with the rivers there; and let the angel Gabriel\nbe the gardener, and the tree will still bear bitter fruit.' Are all\nthe people who live in good houses good? Will a 'living wage'--eight\nshillings a day and eight hours' play--will these change a man's\ncharacter? Will these go deep enough down to touch the springs of\nevil? You cannot alter the nature of a set of objects by arranging\nthem in different shapes, parallelograms, or squares, or circles, or\nany others. As long as you have the elements that are in human\nnature to deal with, you may do as you like about the distribution\nof wealth, and the relation of Capital to Labour, and the various\ncognate questions which are all included in the vague word Socialism;\nand human nature will be too strong for you, and you will have the\nold mischiefs cropping out again. Brethren, you cannot put out\nVesuvius by bringing to bear on it the squirts of all the fire\nengines in creation. The water will go up in steam, and do little or\nnothing to extinguish the fire. And whilst I would thankfully help\nin all these other movements, and look for certain limited results\nof good from them, I, for my part, believe, and therefore I am bound\nto declare, that neither singly, nor all of them in combination,\nwill they ever effect the change on human nature which Jesus Christ\nregarded as the only possible means for securing that human nature\nshould bear good fruit.\n\nFor, if there were no other reason, there are two plain ones which I\nonly touch. God is the source of all good, of all creatural purity\nas well as all creatural blessedness. And if a life has a blank wall\nturned to Him, and has cut itself off from Him, I do not care how\nyou educate it, fill it full of science, plunge it into an\natmosphere of art, make the most perfect arrangements for social and\neconomical and political circumstances, that soul is cut off from\nthe possibility of good, because it is cut off from the fontal\nsource of all good. And there is another reason which is closely\nconnected with this, and that is that the true bitter tang in us all\nis self-centring regard. That is the mother-tincture that, variously\ncoloured and compounded, makes in all the poisonous element that we\ncall sin, and until you get something that will cast that evil out\nof a man's heart, you may teach and refine and raise him and arrange\nthings for him as you like, and you will not master the source of\nall wrong and corrupt fruit.\n\nIII. Lastly, let me say a word about the triumphant solution.\n\nLaw says, 'Make the tree good,' and does not try to do it. Christ\nsaid, 'Make the tree good,' and proceeds to do it. And how does He\ndo it?\n\nHe does it by coming to us; to every soul of man on the earth, and\noffering, first, forgiveness for all the past. I do not know that\namongst all the bonds by which evil holds a poor soul that struggles\nto get away from it, there is one more adamantine and unyielding\nthan the consciousness that the past is irrevocable, and that 'what\nI have written I have written,' and never can blot out. But Jesus\nChrist deals with that consciousness. It is true that 'whatsoever a\nman soweth that shall he also reap,' and the Christian doctrine of\nforgiveness does not contradict that solemn truth, but it assures us\nthat God's heart is not turned away from us, notwithstanding the\npast, and that we can write the future better, and break altogether\nthe fatal bond that decrees, apart from Him, that 'to-morrow shall\nbe as this day, and much more abundant,' and that past sin shall\nbeget a progeny of future sins. That fruitfulness of sin is at an\nend, if we take Christ for our Saviour.\n\nHe makes the tree good in another fashion still; for the very\ncentre, as it seems to me, of the Gospel of Jesus Christ is that\ninto our spirits He will breathe a new life kindred with His own, a\nnew nature which is free from the law and bonds of past sin, and of\npresent and future death. The tree is made good because He makes\nthose who believe in Him 'new creatures in Christ Jesus.' Now, do\nnot turn away and say that that is mysticism. Be it mysticism or\nnot, it is God's truth. It is the truth of the Christian Revelation,\nthat faith in Jesus Christ puts a new nature into any man, however\nsinful he may have been, and however deep the marks of the fetters\nmay have been upon his limbs.\n\nChrist makes the tree good in yet another fashion, because He brings to\nthe reinforcement of the new life which He imparts the mightiest\nmotives, and sways by love, which leads to the imitation of the Beloved,\nwhich leads to obedience to the Beloved, which leads to shunning as the\nworst of evils anything that would break the communion with the Beloved,\nand which is in itself the decentralising of the sinful soul from its\nold centre, and the making of Christ the Beloved the centre round which\nit moves, and from which it draws radiance and light and motion. By all\nthese methods, and many more that I cannot dwell upon now, the problem\nis triumphantly solved by Christianity. The tree is made good, and\n'instead of the briar shall come up the myrtle tree.'\n\nYou may say, 'That is all very well in theory. What about the\npractice? I do not see such a mighty difference between you\nChristians and us.' Well, for myself and my brethren, I accept the\nrebuke. There is not such a difference as there ought to be. But do\nyou know why? Not because our great Gardener cannot change the\nnature of the plant, but because we do not submit ourselves to His\npower as we ought to do. Debit us with as many imperfections and\ninconsistencies as you like, do not lay them to the charge of\nChrist.\n\nAnd yet we are willing to accept the test of Christianity which lies\nin its power to change men. I point to the persecutor on the road to\nDamascus. I point to the Bedfordshire tinker, to him that wrote\n_Pilgrim's Progress_. I point to the history of the Christian\nChurch all down through the ages. I point to our mission fields to-day.\nI point to every mission hall, where earnest, honest men are working,\nand where, if you go and ask them, they will let you see people\nlifted from the very depths of degradation and sin, and made honest,\nsober, respectable, hard-working, though not very intelligent or\nrefined, Christian people. I suppose that there is no man in an\nofficial position like mine who cannot look back over his ministry\nand remember, some of them dozens, some of them scores, some of them\nhundreds, of cases in which the change was made on the most hopeless\npeople, by the simple acceptance of the simple gospel, 'Christ died\nfor me, and Christ lives in me.' I know that I can recall such, and\nI am sure that my brethren can.\n\nPeople who are not Christians talk glibly about the failure of\nChristianity to transform men. They have never seen the\ntransformations because they have never put themselves in the way of\nseeing them. They are being worked to-day; they might be worked here\nand now.\n\nTry the power of the Gospel for yourselves. You cannot make the tree\ngood, but you can let Jesus Christ do it. The Ethiopian cannot\nchange his skin, nor the leopard his spots, but Jesus can do both.\n'The lion shall eat straw like the ox.' It is weary work to be\ntinkering at your acts. Take the comprehensive way, and let Him\nchange your character. I believe that in some processes of dyeing, a\npiece of cloth, prepared with a certain liquid, is plunged into a\nvat full of dye-stuffs of one colour, and is taken out tinged of\nanother. The soul, wet with the waters of repentance, and plunged\ninto the 'Fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness,' the crimson\nfountain of the blood of Christ, emerges 'whiter than snow.' Let Him\n'make the tree good and fruit will be good,' for if not we shall be\n'hewn down and cast into the fire,' because we cannot bear any fruit\nunto holiness, nor can the end be everlasting life.\n\n\n\n\n'A GREATER THAN JONAS'\n\n\n    'A greater than Jonas is here.'--MATT. xii. 41.\n\nThere never was any man in his right mind, still more of influence\non his fellows, who made such claims as to himself in such\nunmistakable language as Jesus Christ does. To say such things of\noneself as come from His lips is a sign of a weak, foolish nature.\nIt is fatal to all influence, to all beauty of character. It is not\nonly that He claims official attributes as a fanatical or dishonest\npretender to inspiration may do. He does that, but He does more--He\ndeclares Himself possessed of virtues which, if a man said he had\nthem, it would be the best proof that he did not possess them and\ndid not know himself. 'I am the way and the truth and the life.' 'I\nam the light of the world'--a 'greater than the temple,' a greater\nthan Jonah, a 'greater than Solomon,' and then withal 'I am meek and\nlowly of heart.' And the world believes Him, and says, Yes! it is\ntrue.\n\nThese three comparisons of Jesus with Temple, Jonas, and Solomon,\ncarry great claims and great lessons. By the first Jesus asserts\nthat He is in reality all that the Temple was in shadowy symbol, and\nsets Himself above ritual, sacrifices, and priests. By the second he\nasserts His superiority not only to one prophet but to them all. By\nthe third He asserts His superiority to Solomon, whom the Jews\nreverenced as the bright, consummate flower of kinghood.\n\nNow we may take this comparison as giving us positive thoughts about\nour Lord. The points of comparison may be taken to be three, with\nJonah as one of an order, with Jonah in his personal character as a\nservant of God, with Jonah as a prophet charged with a special work.\n\nI. The prophets and the Son.\n\nThe whole prophetic order may fairly be taken as included here. And\nover against all these august and venerable names, the teachers of\nwisdom, the speakers of the oracles of God, this Nazarene peasant\nstands there before Pharisees and Scribes, and asserts His superiority.\nIt is either the most insane arrogance of self-assertion, or it is a\nsober truth. If it be true that self-consciousness is ever the disease\nof the soul, and that the religious teacher who begins to think of\nhimself is lost, how marvellous is this assertion!\n\nCompare it with Paul's, 'Unto me who am less than the least of all\nsaints'--'I am not a whit behind the chief of the Apostles'--'though\nI be nothing'--'Not I, but Christ in me.' And yet this is meekness,\nfor it is infinite condescension in Him to compare Himself with any\nson of man.\n\n(_a_) The contrast is suggested between the prophets and the\ntheme of the prophets.\n\n'The testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.' Though undoubtedly\nthe prophet order had other work than prediction to do, yet the soul\nof their whole work was the announcement of the Messiah.\n\nIn testimony whereof, Elijah, who was traditionally the chief of the\nprophets, stood beside Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration, and\npassed away as lost in His light.\n\n(_b_) The contrast is suggested between the recipients of the\nword of God and the Word of God.\n\nThe relation of the prophets to their message is contrasted with His\nwho was the Truth, who not merely received, but was, the Word of\nGod.\n\nThere is nothing in Christ's teaching to show that He was conscious\nof standing in a human relation to the truths which He spoke. His\nown personality is ever present in His teaching instead of being\nsuppressed--as in all the prophets. His own personality is His\nteaching, for His revelation is by being as much as by saying.\nSimilarly, His miracles are done by His own power.\n\n(_c_) The contrast is suggested between the partial teacher of\nGod's Name and the complete revealer of it.\n\nThe foundation was laid by the prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being\nthe chief corner stone (Hebrews i. 1).\n\nII. The disobedient prophet and the perfect Son.\n\nJonah stands as the great example of human weakness in the chosen\ninstruments of God's hand.\n\nTake the story--his shrinking from the message given him. We know\nnot why; but perhaps from faint-hearted fear, or from a sense of his\nunworthiness and unfitness for the task. His own words about God as\nlong-suffering seem to suggest another reason, that he feared to go\nwith a message of judgment which seemed to him so unlikely to be\nexecuted by the long-suffering God. If so, then what made him\nrecreant was not so much fear from personal motives as intellectual\nperplexity and imperfect comprehension of the ways of God. Then we\nhear of his pitiable flight with its absurdity and its wickedness.\nThen comes the prayer which shows him to have been right and true at\nbottom, and teaches us that what makes a good man is not the absence\nof faults, but the presence of love and longing after God. Then we\nsee the boldness of his mission. Then follows the reaction from that\nlofty height, the petulance or whatever else it was with which he\nsees the city spared. Even the mildest interpretation cannot acquit\nhim of much disregard for the poor souls whom he had brought to\nrepentance, and of dreadful carelessness for the life and happiness\nof his fellows.\n\nNow Jonah's behaviour is but a specimen of the vacillations, the\nalternations of feeling which beset every man; the loftiest, the\ntruest, the best. Moses, David, Solomon, Elijah, John the Baptist,\nPeter, Luther, Cranmer. And it is full of instruction for us.\n\nThen we turn to the contrast in Christ's perfect obedience and\nfaithfulness in His prophetic office. In Him is no trace of\nshrinking even when the grimness of the Cross weighed most on His\nheart. No confusion of mind as to the Father's will, or as to the\nunion in Him of perfect righteousness and infinite mercy, ever\ndarkened His clear utterances or cast a shadow over his own soul. He\nwas never weakened by the collapse that follows on great effort or\nstrong emotion. He never failed in his mission through lack of pity.\n\nBut there is no need to draw out the comparison. We look on all\nGod's instruments, and see them all full of faults and flaws. Here\nis one stainless name, one life in which is no blot, one heart in\nwhich are no envy, no failings--one obedience which never varied. He\nsays of Himself, 'I do always those things which please Him,' and\nwe, thinking of all the noblest examples of virtue that the world\nhas ever seen, and seeing in them all some speck, turn to this whole\nand perfect chrysolite and say, Yes! 'a greater than they!'\n\nIII. The bearer of a transitory message of repentance to one Gentile\npeople, and the bearer of an eternal message of grace and love to\nthe whole earth.\n\nJonah is remarkable as having had the sphere of his activity wholly\noutside Israel.\n\nThe nature of his message; a preaching of punishment; a call to\nrepentance.\n\nThe sphere of it--one Gentile city. The effect of it--transitory. We\nknow what Nineveh became.\n\nJesus is greater than Jonah or any prophet in this respect, that His\nmessage is to the world, and in this, that what He preaches and\nbrings far transcends even the loftiest and most spiritual words of\nany of them.\n\nHis voice is sweetest, tenderest, clearest and fullest of all that\nhave ever sounded in men's ears. And just because it is so, the\nhearing of it brings the most solemn responsibility that was ever\nlaid on men, and to us still more gravely and truly may it be said\nthan to those who heard Jesus speak on earth, 'The men of Nineveh\nshall rise in judgment with this generation and condemn it.'\n\n\n\n\n'A GREATER THAN SOLOMON'\n\n\n    'A greater than Solomon is here.'--MATT. xii. 42.\n\nIt is condescension in Him to compare Himself with any; yet if any\nmight have been selected, it is that great name. To the Jews Solomon\nis an ideal figure, who appealed so strongly to popular imagination\nas to become the centre of endless legends; whose dominion was the\nvery apex of national glory, in recounting whose splendours the\nhistorical books seem to be scarce able to restrain their triumph\nand pride.\n\nI. The Man. The story gives us a richly endowed and many-sided\ncharacter. It begins with lovely, youthful enthusiasm, with a\nprofound sense of his own weakness, with earnest longings after\nwisdom and guidance. He lived a pure and beautiful youth, and all\nhis earlier and middle life was adorned with various graces. There\nis a certain splendid largeness about the character. He had a rich\nvariety of gifts: he was statesman, merchant, sage, physicist,\nbuilder, one of the many-sided men whom the old world produced. And\non this we may build a comparison and contrast.\n\nThe completeness of Christ's Humanity transcends all other men, even\nthe most various, and transcends all gathered together. Every type\nof excellence is in Him. We cannot say that His character is any one\nthing in special, it falls under no classification. It is a pure\nwhite light in which all rays are blended. This all-comprehensiveness\nand symmetry of character are remarkably shown in four brief records.\n\nBut we have to take into account the dark shadows that fell on\nSolomon's later years. He clearly fell away from his early\nconsecration and noble ideals, and let his sensuous appetites gain\npower. He countenanced, if he did not himself practise, idolatry. As\na king he became an arbitrary tyrant, and his love of building led\nhim to oppress his subjects, and so laid the foundation for the\nrevolt under Jeroboam which rent the kingdom. So his history is\nanother illustration of the possible shipwreck of a great character.\nIt is one more instance of the fall of a 'son of the morning.' We\nneed not elaborate the contrast with Christ's character. In Him is\nno falling from a high ideal, no fading of morning glory into a\ncloudy noon or a lurid evening. There is no black streak in that\nflawless white marble. Jesus draws the perfect circle, like Giotto's\nO, while all other lives show some faltering of hand, and consequent\nirregularity of outline. Greater than Solomon, with his over-clouded\nglories and his character worsened by self-indulgence, is Jesus,\n'the Sun of righteousness,' the perfect round of whose lustrous\nlight is broken by no spots on the surface, no indentations in the\ncircumference, nor obscured by any clouds over its face.\n\nII. The Teacher.\n\nSolomon was traditionally regarded as the author of much of the Book\nof Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes was written as by him. Possibly the\nattribution to him of some share in the former book may be correct,\nbut at any rate, his wisdom was said to have drawn the Queen of\nSheba to hear him, and that is the point of the comparison of our\ntext.\n\nIf we take these two books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes into\naccount, as popularly attributed to him, they suggest points of\ncomparison and contrast with Jesus as a teacher, which we may\nbriefly point out. Now, Proverbs falls into two very distinct\nportions, the former part being a connected fatherly admonition to\nthe pursuit of wisdom, and the latter a collection of prudential\nmaxims, in which it is rare for any two contiguous verses to have\nanything to do with each other. In the former part Wisdom is set\nforth as man's chief good, and the Wisdom which is so set forth is\nmainly moral wisdom, the right disposition of will and heart, and\nalmost identical with what the Old Testament elsewhere calls\nrighteousness. But it is invested, as the writer proceeds, with more\nand more august and queenly attributes, and at last stands forth as\nbeing, if not a divine person, at least a personification of a\ndivine attribute.\n\nBring that ancient teaching and set it side by side with Jesus, and\nwhat can we say but that He is what the old writer, be he Solomon or\nanother, dimly saw? He is the 'wisdom' which was traditionally\ncalled the 'wisdom of Solomon,' and which the Queen came from far to\nhear. Jesus is greater, as the light is more than the eye, or as the\ntheme is more than the speaker. 'The power of God and the wisdom of\nGod' is greater than the sage or seer who celebrates it. What is\ntrue of Solomon or whoever wrote that praise of Wisdom, is true of\nall teachers and wise men, they are 'not that light,' they are 'sent\nto bear witness of that light.' Jesus is Wisdom, other men are wise.\nJesus is the greatest teacher, for He teaches us Himself. He is\nlesson as well as teacher. Unless He was a great deal more than\nTeacher, He could not be the perfect Teacher for whom the world\ngroans.\n\nThe second half of Proverbs is, as I have said, mostly a collection\nof prudential and moral maxims, with very little reference to God or\nhigh ideals of duty in them. They may represent to us the impotence\nof wise saws to get themselves practised. A guide-post is not a\nguide. It stretches out its gaunt wooden arms towards the city, but\nit cannot bend them to help a lame man lying at its foot. Men do not\ngo wrong for lack of knowing the road, nearly so often as for lack\nof inclination to walk in it. We have abundant voices to tell us\nwhat we ought to do. But what we want is the swaying of inclination\nto do it, and the gift of power to do it. And it is precisely\nbecause Jesus gives us both these that He is what no collection of\nthe wisest sayings can ever be, the efficient teacher of all\nrighteousness, and of the true wisdom which is 'the principal\nthing.'\n\nAs for Ecclesiastes, though not his, it represents not untruly the\ntone which we may suppose to have characterised his later days in\nits dwelling on the vanity of life. The sadness of it may be\ncontrasted with the light thrown by the Gospel on the darkest\nproblems. Solomon cries, 'All is vanity'--Jesus teaches His scholars\nto sing, 'All things work together for good.'\n\nIII. The Temple builder.\n\nIn this respect 'a greater than Solomon is here,' inasmuch as Jesus\nis Himself the true Temple, being for all men, which Solomon's\nstructure only shadowed, the meeting-place of God and man, in whom\nGod dwells and through whom we can draw near to Him, the place where\nthe true Sacrifice is once for all offered, by which Sacrifice sin\nis truly put away. And, further, Jesus is greater than Solomon in\nthat He is, through the ages, building up the great Temple of His\nChurch of redeemed men, the eternal temple of which not one stone\nshall ever be taken down.\n\nIV. The peaceful King.\n\nThere were no wars in Solomon's reign. But a dark shadow brooded\nover it in its later years, which were darkened by oppression,\nluxury, and incipient revolt.\n\nContrast with that merely external and sadly imperfect peacefulness,\nthe deep, inward peace of spirit which Jesus breathes into every man\nwho trusts and obeys Him, and with the peace among men which the\nacceptance of His rule brings, and will one day bring perfectly, to\na regenerated humanity dwelling on a renewed earth. He is King of\nrighteousness, and after that also King of peace.\n\nSurely from all these contrasts it is plain that 'a greater than\nSolomon is here.'\n\n\n\n\nFOUR SOWINGS AND ONE RIPENING\n\n\n    'The same day went Jesus out of the house, and sat by\n    the sea side. 2. And great multitudes were gathered\n    together unto Him, so that He went into a ship, and\n    sat; and the whole multitude stood on the shore. 8. And\n    He spake many things unto them in parables, saying,\n    Behold, a sower went forth to sow; 4. And when he\n    sowed, some seeds fell by the way side, and the fowls\n    came and devoured them up: 6. Some fell upon stony\n    places, where they had not much earth: and forthwith\n    they sprung up, because they had no deepness of earth:\n    6. And when the sun was up, they were scorched; and\n    because they had no root, they withered away. 7. And\n    some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprung up, and\n    choked them: 8. But other fell into good ground, and\n    brought forth fruit, some an hundredfold, some\n    sixtyfold, some thirtyfold. 9. Who hath ears to hear,\n    let him hear.'--MATT. xiii. 1-9.\n\nThe seven parables of the kingdom, in this chapter, are not to be\nregarded as grouped together by Matthew. They were spoken\nconsecutively, as is obvious from the notes of time in verses 36 and\n53. They are a great whole, setting forth the 'mystery of the\nkingdom' in its method of establishment, its corruption, its outward\nand inward growth, the conditions of entrance into it, and its final\npurification. The sacred number seven, impressed upon them, is the\ntoken of completeness. They fall into two parts: four of them being\nspoken to the multitudes from the boat, and presenting the more\nobvious aspects of the development of the kingdom; three being\naddressed to the disciples in the house, and setting forth truths\nabout it more fitted for them.\n\nThe first parable, which concerns us now, has been generally called\nthe Parable of the Sower, but he is not the prominent figure. The\nsubject is much rather the soils; and the intention is, not so much\nto declare anything about him, as to explain to the people, who\nwere looking for the kingdom to be set up by outward means,\nirrespective of men's dispositions, that the way of establishing it\nwas by teaching which needed receptive spirits. The parable is both\nhistory and prophecy. It tells Christ's own experience, and it\nforetells His servants'. He is the great Sower, who has 'come forth'\nfrom the Father. His present errand is not to burn up thorns or to\npunish the husbandmen, but to scatter on all hearts the living seed,\nwhich is here interpreted, in accordance with the dominant idea of\nthis Gospel, as being 'the word of the kingdom' (ver. 19). All who\nfollow Him, and make His truth known, are sowers in their turn, and\nhave to look for the same issue of their work. The figure is common\nto all languages. Truth, whether intellectual, moral, or spiritual,\nis seminal, and, deposited in the heart, understanding, or\nconscience, grows. It has a mysterious vitality, and its issue is\nnot a manufacture, but a fruit. If all teachers, especially\nreligious teachers, would remember that, perhaps there would be\nfewer failures, and a good deal of their work would be modified. We\nhave here four sowings and one ripening--a sad proportion! We are\nnot told that the quantity of seed was in each case the same. Rather\nwe may suppose that much less fell on the wayside, and on the rocky\nsoil, and among the thorns, than on the good ground. So we cannot\nsay that seventy-five per cent, of it was wasted; but, in any case,\nthe proportion of failure is tragically large. This Sower was under\nno illusion as to the result of His work.\n\nIt is folly to sow on the hard footpath, or the rocky ground, or\namong thorns; but Christ and His servants have to do that, in\nendless hope that these unreceptive hearts may become good soil. One\nlesson of the parable is, Scatter the seed everywhere, on the most\nunlikely places.\n\nI. Our Lord begins with the case in which the seed remains quite\noutside the soil, or, without metaphor, in which the word finds\nabsolutely no entrance into the heart or mind. A beaten path runs by\nthe end, or perhaps through the middle, of the cornfield. It is of\nexactly the same soil as the rest, but many passengers have trodden\nit hard, and the very foot of the sower, as he comes and goes in his\nwork, has helped. Some of the seed, sown broadcast, of course falls\nthere, and lies where it falls, having no power to penetrate the\nhard surface. As in our own English cornfields, a flock of bold,\nhungry birds watch the sower; and, as soon as his back is turned,\nthey are down with a swift-winged swoop, and away goes the exposed\ngrain. So there is an end of it; and the path is as bare as ever,\nfive minutes after it has been strewed with seeds.\n\nThe explanation is too plain to be mistaken, but we may briefly\ntouch its main features. Notice, then, that our Lord begins with the\ncase in which there is least contact between His word and the soul,\nand that, as the contact is least in degree, so it is shortest in\nduration. A minute or two finishes it. Notice especially that the\npath has been made hard by external pressure. It is not rock, but\nsoil like the other parts of the field. It represents the case of\nmen whose insensibility to the word is caused by outward things\nhaving made a thoroughfare of their natures, and trodden them into\nincapacity to receive the message of Christ's love. The heavy\nbaggage-wagons of commerce, the light cars of pleasure, merry\ndancers, and sad funeral processions, have all used that way, and\neach footfall has beaten the once loose soil a little firmer. We are\nmade insensitive to the gospel by the effect of innocent and\nnecessary things, unless we take care to plough up the path along\nwhich they travel, and to keep our spirits susceptible by a distinct\neffort. How many hearers of every teacher are there, who never take\nin his words at all, simply because they are so completely\npreoccupied!\n\nNotice what becomes of the seed that lies thus bare. 'Immediately,'\nsays Mark, 'Satan cometh.' His agents are these light-winged\nthoughts that flutter round the hearer as soon as the sermon or the\nlesson is over. Talk of the weather, criticism of the congregation,\nor of the sower's attitude as he flung the seed, or politics, or\nbusiness, drive away the remembrance of even the text, before many\nof our hearers are out of sight of the church. Then the whirl of\ntraffic begins again, and the path is soon beaten a little harder.\nIf the seed had got ever so little way into the ground, the sharp\nbeaks of the thieves would not have carried it off so easily.\nImpressions so slight as Christ's word makes on busy men are quickly\nrubbed out. But if the seed sown vanishes thus swiftly, the fault is\nnot in it, but in ourselves. Satan may seek to snatch it away, but\nwe can hinder him.\n\nOur Lord uses a singular expression, 'This is he that was sown by\nthe way side,' which appears to identify the man with the seed\nrather than with the soil. It has been suggested by some\ncommentators that this expression is to be regarded as conveying the\ntruth that the seed sown in the heart and growing up there becomes\nthe life-spring of the individual, and that therefore we may speak\nof him or of it as bearing the fruit. But this explanation will not\navail for the case where there is no entrance of the word into the\nheart, and so no new birth by the word. More probably we are to\nregard the expression simply as a conversational shorthand form of\nspeech, not strictly accurate, but quite intelligible.\n\nII. The next variety of soil differs from the preceding in having its\nhindrance deep seated. Many a hillside in Galilee--as in Scotland or\nNew England--would show a thin surface of soil over rock, like skin\nstretched tightly on a bone. No roots could get through the rock nor\nfind nourishment in it; while the very shallowness of earth and the\nheat of the underlying stone would accelerate growth. Such premature\nand feeble shoots perish as quickly as they spring up; the fierce\nEastern sun makes a speedy end of them, and a few days sees their\nspringing and withering. It is a case of 'lightly come, lightly go.'\nQuick-sprouting herbs are soon-dying herbs. A shallow pond is up in\nwaves under a breeze which raises no sea on the Atlantic, and it is\ncalm again in a few minutes. Readily stirred emotion is transient.\nBrushwood catches fire easily, and burns itself out quickly. Coal\ntakes longer to kindle, and is harder to put out.\n\nThe persons meant are those of excitable temperament, whose feelings lie\non the surface, and can be got at without first passing through the\nunderstanding or the conscience. Such people are easily played on by\nthe epidemic influence of any prevalent enthusiasm or emotion, as every\nrevival of religion shows. Their very 'joy' in hearing the word is\nsuspicious; for a true reception of it seldom begins with joy, but\nrather with 'the sorrow which worketh repentance not to be repented of.'\nTheir immediate reception of it is suspicious, for it suggests that\nthere has been no time to consult the understanding or to form a\ndeliberate purpose; stable resolutions are slowly formed. It is the\nsunny side of religion which, has attracted them. They know nothing of\nits difficulties and depths. Hence, as soon as they find out the\nrealities of the course which they have embraced so lightly, they\ndesert, like John Mark running away as soon as home comforts at Cyprus\nwere left behind. The Christian life means self-denial, toil, hard\nresistance to many fascinations. It means sweat and blood, or it means\nnothing. Whether there be 'persecution' or no, there will be affliction,\n'because of the word,' and all the joyful emotion will ooze out at the\nman's finger-ends. The same superficial excitability which determined\nhis swift reception of the word will determine his hasty casting of it\naside, and immediately he stumbles. All his acts will be done in a\nhurry, and none of his moods will last. Feeling is in its place down\nin the engine-room, but it makes a poor pilot. Very significant is\nthat phrase, 'No root in himself.' His roots are in the accidents of\nthe moment. His religion has never really struck root in him, but only\nin the superficial layer of him. His conscience, will, understanding,\nare unpenetrated by its fibres. So it is easily pulled up, as well as\nsoon withered.\n\nThere is another profound truth in this picture. The hard,\nimpenetrable rock lies right under the thin skin of soil. The nature\nwhich is over-emotional on its surface is utterly hard at its core.\nThe most heartless people are those whose feelings are always ready\nto gush; the most unimpressible are those who are most easily\nbrought to a certain degree of emotion by the sound of the word.\nThis class is an advance on the former, in that there has been a\nreal contact with the word, which has lain longer in their hearts,\nand has had some growth. We may regard it as either better or worse\nthan the former, according as we consider that it is better to\naccept and feel than not to accept at all, or that it is worse to\nhave in some measure possessed and felt than not to have received\nthe word of the kingdom.\n\nIII. In one part of the field was a patch where the soil was neither\nrammed solid, as on the footpath, nor thin, as where the rock\ncropped out, but where there had been a tangle of thorns, which grow\nluxuriantly in Palestine. These had been cut down, but not stubbed\nup, as is plain from the very fact that the seed reached the ground,\nas also from the description of them as 'springing up.' The two\ngrowths advance together. In this case, the seed has a longer life\nthan in the former. It roots and grows, and even, according to the\nother evangelist's version, fruits, though it does not mature its\nfruit. There is no question of 'falling away' here. Only the\nhardier growth, which had the advantage of previous possession, and\nwhich pushes up its shoots above ground all round the more tender\nplant, gets the start of it, and smothers its green blades,\novertopping it, and keeping it from sun and air, as well as drawing\nto itself the nourishment from the soil. The main point here is\nsimultaneousness of the two growths. This man is, as James calls\nhim, a 'double-minded man.' He is trying to grow both corn and thorn\non the same soil. He has some religion, but not enough to make\nthorough work of it. He is endeavouring to ride on two horses at\nonce. Religion says 'either--or'; he is trying 'both--and.' The\nhuman heart has only a limited amount of love and trust to give, and\nChrist must have it all. It has enough for one--that is, for Him;\nbut not enough for two,--that is, for Him and the world. This man's\nreligion has not been powerful enough to grub up the roots of the\nthorns. They were cut down when the seed was sown, for a little\nwhile, at the beginning of his course; the new life in him seemed to\nconquer, but the roots of the old lay hid, and, in due time, showed\nagain above ground. 'Ill weeds grow apace'; and these, as is their\nnature, grow faster than the good seed. So the only thing to do is\nto get them out of the ground to the last fibre.\n\nChrist specifies what He deems thorns. We can all understand care\nbeing so called; but riches? Yes, they too have sharp prickles, as\nanybody will find who stuffs a pillow with them. But our Lord\nchooses His words to point the lesson that not outward things, but\nour attitude to them, make the barrenness of this soil. It is not\n'this world,' but 'the care of this world,' not 'riches,' but 'the\ndeceitfulness of riches,' that choke the word. These two seem\nopposites, but they are really the same thing on two opposite sides.\nThe man who is burdened with the cares of poverty, and the man who\nis deceived by the false promises of wealth, are really the same\nman. The one is the other turned inside out. We make the world our\ngod, whether we worship it by saying, 'I am desolate without thee,'\nor by fancying that we are secure with it. Note that the issue in\nthis case is--unfruitfulness. The man may, and I suppose usually\ndoes, keep up a profession of Christianity all his life. He very\nlikely does not know that the seed is choked, and that he has become\nunfruitful. But he is a stunted, useless Christian, with all the sap\nand nourishment of his soul given to his worldly position, and his\nreligion is a poor pining growth, with blanched leaves and abortive\nfruit. How much of Christ's field is filled with plants of that\nsort!\n\nIV. The parable tells us nothing about the comparative acreage of\nthe path and the rocky and thorny soils on the one hand, and of the\nfertile soil on the other. It is not meant to teach the proportion\nof success to failure, but to exhibit the fact that the reception of\nthe word depends on men's dispositions. The good soil has none of\nthe faults of the rest of the field. It is loose, and thus unlike\nthe path; deep, and thus unlike the rocky bit; clean, and thus\nunlike the thorn brake. The interpretation given of it by our Lord\nseems at first sight incomplete. It is all summed up in one word,\n'understandeth.' Then, did not the second and third classes, at all\nevents, understand? They received the word, and it had some growth\nin them. The distinction between them and the good-soil hearer is\nsurely of a moral nature, rather than of so purely intellectual a\nkind as 'understanding' suggests. Hence, Luke's keep fast 'in an\nhonest and good heart' may seem a more adequate statement. But\nBiblical usage does not regard 'understanding' as a purely\nintellectual process, but rather as the action of the whole moral\nand spiritual nature. It knows nothing of dividing a man up into\nwater-tight compartments, one of which may be full of evil, and the\nother clean and receptive of good. According to it, we 'understand'\nreligious truth by our hearts and moral nature in conjunction with\nthe dry light of intellect. So the word here is used in a pregnant\nsense, and includes the grasp of the truth with the whole being, the\ncomplete reception of the word of the kingdom not merely into the\nintellect, but into the central self which is the undivided fountain\nfrom which flow the issues of life, whether these be called\nintellect, or affection, or conscience, or will. Only he who has\nthus become one with the word, and housed it deep in his inmost\nsoul, 'understands' it, in the sense in which our Lord here uses\nthat expression. 'Thy word have I hid in mine heart' exactly\ncorresponds to the 'understanding' which is here given as the\ndistinctive mark of the good soil.\n\nThe result of that reception into the depths of the spirit is that\nhe 'verily beareth fruit.' The man who receives the word is\nidentified with the plant that springs from the seed which he\nreceives. The life of a Christian is the result of the growth in him\nof a supernatural seed. He bears fruit, yet the fruit comes not from\nhim, but from the seed sown. 'I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth\nin me.' Fruitfulness is the aim of the sower, and the test of the\nreception of the seed. If there is not fruit, manifestly there has\nbeen no real understanding of the word. A touchstone, that, which\nwill produce surprising results in detecting spurious Christianity,\nif it be honestly applied!\n\nThere is variety in the degree of fruitfulness, according to the\ngoodness of the soil; that is to say, according to the thoroughness\nand depth of the reception of the word. The great Husbandman does\nnot demand uniform fertility. He is glad when He gets an\nhundredfold, but He accepts sixty, and does not refuse thirty, only\nHe arranges them in descending order, as if He would fain have the\nhighest rate from all the plants, and, not without disappointment,\ngradually stretches His merciful allowance to take in even the\nlowest. He will accept the scantiest fruitage, and will lovingly\n'purge' the branch 'that it may bring forth more fruit.'\n\nNo parable teaches everything. Paths, rocks, and thorns cannot\nchange. But men can plough up the trodden ways, and blast away the\nrock, and root out the thorns, and, with God's help, can open the\ndoor of their hearts, that the Sower and His seed may enter in. We\nare responsible for the nature of the soil, else His warning were\nvain, 'Take heed, therefore, how ye hear.'\n\n\n\n\nEARS AND NO EARS\n\n\n    'Who hath ears to hear, let him hear.--MATT. xiii. 8.\n\nThis saying was frequently on our Lord's lips, and that in very\nvarious connections. He sometimes, as in the instance before us,\nappended it to teaching which, from its parabolic form, required\nattention to disentangle the spiritual truth implied. He sometimes\nused it to commend some strange, new revolutionary teaching to men's\ninvestigation--as, for instance, after that great declaration of the\nnullity of ceremonial worship, how that nothing could defile a man\nexcept what came from his heart. In other connections, which I need\nnot now enumerate, we find it. Like printing a sentence in italics,\nor underscoring it, this saying calls special attention to the thing\nuttered. It is interesting to notice that our Lord, like the rest of\nus, had to use such means of riveting and sharpening the attention\nof His hearers. There is also a striking reappearance of the\nexpression in the last book of Scripture. The Christ who speaks to\nthe seven churches, from the heavens, repeats His old word spoken on\nearth, and at the end of each of the letters says once more, as if\neven the Voice that spoke from heaven might be listened to\nlistlessly, 'He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith\nto the churches.'\n\nI. We all have ears.\n\nNow, it is a very singular instance of the superficial, indolent way\nin which people are led away by sound rather than by sense, that\nthis saying of my text has often been taken to mean that there is a\ncertain class that can listen, and that it is their business to\nlisten, and there is another class that cannot, and so they are\nabsorbed from all responsibility. The opposite conclusion is the\ncorrect one. Everybody has ears, therefore everybody is bound to\nhear. Which being translated, is that there is not a man or woman\namong us that has not the capacity of hearing in the sense of\nunderstanding, and of hearing in the sense of obeying the word that\nJesus Christ speaks to us all. Every one of us, whatever may be our\ndiversities of education, temperament, natural capacity in regard to\nother subjects of study and apprehension, has the ears that are\ncapable of receiving the message that comes to us all in Jesus\nChrist.\n\nFor what is it that He addresses? Universal human nature, the\nuniversal human wants, and mainly and primarily, as I believe, the\nsense of sin which lies dormant indeed, but capable of being\nawakened, in all men, because the fact of sin attaches to all men.\nThere is no man but has the needs to which Christ addresses Himself,\nand no man but has the power of apprehending, of accepting, and of\nliving by, the great Incarnate Word and His message to the world. So\nthat instead of there being a restriction implied in the words\nbefore us, there is the broadest implication of the universality of\nChrist's message. And just as every man comes into the world with a\npair of ears on his head, so every man comes into the world with the\ncapacity of listening to, and accepting, that gracious Lord. That is\nthe first thing that our Master distinctly declares here, that we\nall have ears.\n\nII. If we have ears we are bound to use them.\n\n'Let him hear.' In all regions, as I need not remind you, capacity\nand responsibility go together; and the power that we possess is the\nmeasure of the obligation under which we come. All our natural\nfaculties, for instance, are given to us with the implied command,\n'See that you make the best use of them.' So that even these bodily\norgans of ours, much more the higher faculties and capacities of the\nspirit of which the body is partly the symbol and partly the\ninstrument, are intrusted to us on terms of stewardship. And just as\nit is criminal for a man to go through life with a pair of ears on\nhis head, and a pair of eyes in his forehead, neither of which he\neducates and cultivates, so is it criminal for a man having the\ncapacity of grasping the great Revelation of God, who 'at sundry\ntimes and in divers manners hath spoken unto the Fathers by the\nprophets, but in these last days hath spoken unto us by the Son,' to\nturn away from that Voice, and pay no heed to it.\n\nIt is universally true that obligation goes with capacity. It is\nespecially true with regard to our relation to Jesus Christ. We are\nall bound to 'hear Him,' as the great Voice said on the Mount of\nTransfiguration. The upshot of all that manifestation of the divine\nglory welling up from the depths of Christ's nature, and\ntransfiguring His countenance, the upshot of all that solemn and\nmysterious communion with the mighty dead, Moses and Elias, the end\nof all that encompassing glory that wrapped Him, was the Voice from\nHeaven which proclaimed, 'This is My beloved Son; hear ye Him.'\nMoses with his Law, Elijah with his Prophecy, faded away and were\nlost. But there stood forth singly the one Figure, relieved against\nthe background of the glory-cloud, the Christ to whom we are all\nbound to turn with the vision of longing eyes, with the listening of\ndocile ears, with the aspiration of yearning affection, with the\nsubmission of absolute obedience.\n\n'Hear ye Him.' For just as truly as light is meant for the eye, so\ntruly are the words of the Incarnate Word, and the life which is\nspeech and revelation, meant to be the supreme objects of our\nattention, of our contemplative regard, and of our practical\nsubmission. We are bound to hear because we have ears; and of all\nthe voices that are candidates for our attention, and of all the\nmusic that sounds through the universe, no voice is so sweet and\nweighty, no words so fundamental and all-powerful, no music so\nmelodious, so deep and thunderous, so thrilling and gracious, as are\nthe words of that Word who was made flesh and dwelt among us. We are\nbound to hear, and we hear to most profit when it is Him that we\nhear.\n\nIII. We shall not hear without an effort.\n\nChrist says in my text, 'Let him hear,' as if the possession of the\near did not necessarily involve that there should be hearing. And so\nit is; 'Having ears, they hear not,' is a description verified in a\ngreat many other walks of life than in regard to religious matters.\nBut it is verified there in the most conspicuous and in the most\ntragic fashion. I wonder how many of us there are who, though we\nhave heard with the hearing of the outward ear, have not heard in\nthe sense of attending, have scarcely heard in the sense of\napprehending, and have not heard at all in the sense of obeying?\nFriend, what is it that keeps you from hearing, if you do not hear?\nLet me run over two or three of the things that thus are like wax in\na man's ears, making him deaf to the message of life in Jesus\nChrist, in order to bring out how needful it is that these should be\ncounteracted by an effort of will, and the vigorous concentration of\nthought and heart upon that message.\n\nWhat is it that keeps men from hearing? Being busy with other things\nis one hindrance. There is an old story of St. Bernard riding along\nby a lake on his way to a Council, and being so occupied with\nthoughts and discussions, that after the day's travel he lifted up\nhis eyes and said, 'Where is the lake?' And so we, many of us, go\nalong all our days on the banks of the great sea of divine love, and\nwe are so busy thinking about other things, or doing other things,\nthat at the end of the journey we do not know that we have been\ntravelling by the side of the flashing waters all the day long.\nEverybody knows how possible it is to be so engrossed with one's\noccupations or thoughts as that when the clock strikes in the next\nsteeple, we hear it and do not hear it. We have read of soldiers\nbeing so completely absorbed in the fury of the fight that a\nthunderstorm has rattled over their heads, and no man heard the\nroll, and no man saw the flash. Many of us are so swallowed up in\nour trade, in our profession, in our special branch of study, in our\noccupations and desires, that all the trumpets of Sinai might be\nblown into our ears, and we should hear them as though we heard them\nnot; and what is worse, that the pleading voice of that great Lord\nwho is ever saying to each of us, 'Come unto Me, all ye that labour,\nand are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,' passes us by, and\nproduces no effect, any more than does the idle wind whistling\nthrough an archway. Brethren, you have the need, the sin, the\nweakness, the transiency, to which the Gospel appeals. You have the\nfaculties to which it addresses itself. Jesus Christ is speaking to\nevery one of us. I beseech you to ask yourselves, 'Do I hear Him?'\nIf not, is it not because the clatter of the world's business, or\nthe more refined sounds of some profession or study, have so taken\nup your attention that you have none to spare for that which\nrequires and repays it most?\n\nThen there is another thing that makes attention, and concentration,\nand a dead lift of resolution necessary, if you are rightly to hear,\nand that is the very fact that, superficially, you have heard all\nyour days. You do not know the despair that sometimes comes over men in\nmy position when we face our congregations of people that are familiar\nto weariness with everything that we have to say, and because they are\nsuperficially so familiar with it, fancy that there is no need for\nthem to give heed any more. What can a poor man like me do to get\nthrough that crust of familiarity with the mere surface of Christian\ntruth and teaching which is round many of you? You come and listen to\nme, and say, 'Oh! he has nothing original to say. We have heard it all\nbefore.' Yes, your ears have heard it. Have _you_ heard? 'Jesus Christ\ndied for me,' you have been told that ever since you were a little\nchild; and so the thousand-and-first, the million-and-first, repetition\nof it has little power over you. If once, just once, that truth could\nget through the crust of familiarity, and touch your heart, your bare\nheart, with its quick naked point of fire-shod love, I think there\nmight be a wound made that would mean healing. But some of you will\ngo away presently, just as you have gone away a thousand times before,\nand my words will rebound from you like an india-rubber ball from a\nwall, or run off you like water from the sea-bird's plumes, just\nbecause you think you have heard it all before--and you have never\nheard it all your days. 'He that hath ears to hear, let him _hear_.'\n\nThen there is another hindrance. A man may put his fingers in his\nears. And some of you, I am afraid, are not ignorant of what it is\nto have made distinct and conscious efforts to get rid of the\nimpressions of religion, and of Christ's voice to us.\n\nAnd then there are some of us who, out of sheer listlessness, do not\nhear. It is not because we are too busy. It is not because we have\nany intellectual objection to the message. It is not because we have\nmade any definite effort to get away from it. It is not even because\nwe have been so accustomed to hear it, that it is impossible to make\nan impression on our listless indifference. Go down into Morecambe\nBay when the tide is making; and, as the water is beginning to\npercolate through the sand, try to make an impression with a stick\nupon the tremulous jelly. As soon as you take out the point the\nimpression is lost. And there are many of us like that, who, out of\nsheer stolid listlessness, retain no fragment of the truth that is\nsounding in our ears. Dear friends, 'If the word spoken by angels\nwas steadfast, how shall we escape if we'--what? Reject? Deny? Fight\nagainst? Angrily repel? No;--'if we _neglect_ so great salvation?' That\nis the question for you negligent people, for you people who think you\nknow all about it and there an end, for you people who are so busy\nwith your daily lives that, amidst the hubbub of earth, heaven's silent\nvoice is inaudible to your ears. Neglect stops the ears and ruins the\nman. But you will not hear, though you have ears, unless you make an\neffort of will and concentration of attention.\n\nIV. And now the last thing that I have to say is:--If we do not\nhear, we shall become deaf.\n\nThat is what Christ said in the context. The sentence which I have\ntaken as my text was spoken at the close of the Parable of the\nSower; and when His disciples came and asked Him why He spake in\nparables, His answer was in effect that the people to whom He spoke\nhad not profited by what they had heard, 'hearing, they heard not,'\nand therefore He spoke in parables which veiled as well as revealed\nthe truth. It was not given to them to know the mysteries of the\nKingdom, because they had not given heed to what had been made known\nto them. The great law was taking effect which gives to him that has\nand takes from him that has not; and that law applied not only to\nthe form of Christ's teaching, but also to the faculty of receiving\nit. That diminished capacity is sometimes represented as men's own\nact, and sometimes as the divinely inflicted penalty of not hearing,\nbut in either case the same fact is in view--namely, the loss of\nsusceptibility by neglect, the dying out of faculties by disuse.\n\nJust as in the bodily life capacities untrained and unexercised\nbecome faint and disappear; just as the Indian _fakir_, who\nholds his arm up above his head for years, never using the muscles,\nhas the muscles atrophied, and at last cannot bring his arm down to\nhis side;--so the people who neglect to use the ears that God has\ngiven them by degrees will lose the capacity of hearing at all.\nWhich, being put into plain English, just comes to this: that if we\ndo not listen to Jesus Christ when He calls to us in His love, we\nshall gradually have the capacity of hearing diminished until--I do\nnot know if it ever reaches that point here--until its ultimate\nextinction.\n\nDear friends, this word of the love and pity and pardon and\npurifying power of God manifest in Jesus Christ for us all, which I\nam trying to preach to you now, is not without an effect even on the\nmen by whom it is most superficially and perfunctorily heard. It\neither softens or hardens. As the old mystics used to say, the same\nheat that melts wax hardens clay into brick. The same light that\nbrings blessing to one eye brings pain to another. You have heard,\nand hearing you have not heard; and you will cease to be able to\nhear at all; and then the thunders may rattle over your heads, and\nbe inaudible to you; and that Voice which is as loud as the sound of\nmany waters, and sweet as harpers harping on their harps, and which\nsays to each of us, 'Come to Me, and I will be thy peace and thy\nrest and thy strength,' will no more be audible in your atrophied\nears. Dear friends! I do not know, as I have said, whether that\nultimate tragic result is ever wholly reached in this world. I am\nsure that it is not reached with some of you as yet. And I beseech\nyou to obey that voice which says, 'This is My beloved Son; hear\nHim,' and to let there not be only outward hearing, but to let there\nbe inward acceptance, attention, apprehension, and obedience. And\nthen we shall be able to say, 'Blessed are our ears, for they hear;\nblessed are our eyes, for they see.' 'Many prophets and righteous\nmen desired to hear the things that ye hear, and heard them not,\ntake care that, since you are thus advanced in the outward\npossession of the perfect word of God, there be also the yielding\nto, and reception of it.\n\n\n\n\n'TO HIM THAT HATH SHALL BE GIVEN'\n\n\n    'Whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall\n    have more abundance: but whosoever hath not, from him\n    shall be taken away even that he hath.'-- MATT. xiii. 12.\n\nThere are several instances in the Gospels of our Lord's repetition\nof sayings which seem to have been, if we may use the expression,\nfavourites with Him; as, for instance, 'There are first which shall\nbe last, and there are last which shall be first'; or, again, 'The\nservant is not greater than his master, nor the disciple than his\nlord.' My text is one of these. It is here said as part of the\nexplanation why He chose to speak in parables, in order that the\ntruth, revealed to the diligent and attentive, might be hidden from\nthe careless. Again, we find it in two other Gospels, in a somewhat\nsimilar connection, though with a different application, where Jesus\nenunciates it as the basis of His warning, 'Take heed how'--or, in\nanother version, 'what'--'ye hear.' Again He employs it in this\nGospel in the parable of the talents, as explaining the principle on\nwhich the retribution to the slothful servant was meted out. And we\nfind it yet once more in the parable of the pounds in Luke's Gospel,\nwhich, though entirely different in conception and purpose from that\nof the talents, is identical in the portion connected with the\nslothful servant.\n\nSo there are two very distinct directions in which this saying\nlooks, as it was used by our Lord--one in reference to the attitude\nof men towards the Revelation of God, and one in reference to the\nsolemn subject of future retribution. I wish, now, mainly to try and\nillustrate the great law which is set forth here, and to follow out\nthe various spheres of its operation, and estimate the force of its\ninfluence. For I think that large and very needful lessons for us\nall may be drawn therefrom. The principle of my text shapes all\nlife. It is a paradox, but it is a deep truth. It sounds harsh and\nunjust, but it contains the very essence of righteous retribution.\nThe paradox is meant to spur attention, curiosity, and inquiry. The\nkey to it lies here--to use is to have. There is a possession which\nis no possession. That I have rights of property in a thing, as\ncontradistinguished to your rights, does not make it in any deep and\nreal sense mine. What I use I have; and all else is, as one of the\nother evangelists has it, but 'seeming' to have.\n\nSo much, then, by way of explanation of our text. Now, let me ask\nyou to look with me into two or three of the regions where we shall\nfind illustrations of its working.\n\nI. Take the application of this principle to common life.\n\nThe lowest instance is in regard to material possessions. It is a\ncomplaint that is made against the present social arrangements and\ndistribution of wealth, that money makes money; that wealth has a\ntendency to clot; the rich man to get richer, and the poor man to\nget poorer. Just as in a basin of water when the plug is out, and\ncircular motion is set up, the little bits of foreign matter that\nmay be there all tend to get together, so it is in regard to these\nexternal possessions. 'To him that hath shall be given'; and people\ngrumble about that and say, 'It never rains but it pours, and the\nman that needs more money least gets it most easily.' Of course.\nTreasure used grows; treasure hoarded rusts and dwindles. The\nmillionaire will double his fortune by a successful speculation. The\nman with half a dozen large shops drives the poor little tradesman\nout of the field. So it is all round: 'To him that hath shall be\ngiven; but from him that hath not shall be taken even that he hath.'\n\nNext, go a step higher. Look at how this law works in regard to\npowers of body. That is a threadbare old illustration. The\nblacksmith's arm we have all heard about; the sailor's eye, the\npianist's wrist, the juggler's fingers, the surgeon's deft hand--all\nthese come by use. 'To him that hath shall be given.' And the same\nman who has cultivated one set of organs to an almost miraculous\nfineness or delicacy or strength will, by the operation of the other\nhalf of the same principle, have all but atrophied another set. So\nwith the blacksmith's arm, which has grown muscular at the expense\nof his legs. Part of the physical frame has monopolised what might\nhave been distributed throughout the whole. Use is strength; use\nmakes growth. We have what we employ. And even in regard to our\nbodily frame the organs that we do not use we carry about with us\nrather as a weight attached to us than as a possession.\n\nAgain, come a little higher. This great principle largely goes to\ndetermine our position in the world and our work. The man that can do\na thing gets it to do. In the long run the tools come to the hand that\ncan use them. So here is one medical man's consulting-room crammed\nfull of patients, and his neighbour next door has scarcely one. The\nwhole world runs to read A's, B's, or C's books. The briefless\nbarrister complains that there is no middle course between having\nnothing to do and being overwhelmed with briefs. 'To him that hath\nshall be given'--the man can do a thing, and he gets it to do--'and\nfrom him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath,'\nThat law largely settles every man's place in the world.\n\nLet us come still higher. The same law has much--not all, but much--to\ndo in making men's characters. For it operates in its most intense\nfashion, and with results most blessed or most disastrous, in the\ninner life. The great example that I would adduce is conscience. Use\nit, obey it, listen for its voice, never thwart it, and it grows and\ngrows and grows, and becomes more and more sensitive, more and more\neducated, more and more sovereign in its decisions. Neglect it, still\nmore, go in its teeth, and it dwindles and dwindles and dwindles; and\nI suppose it is possible--though one would fain hope that it is a very\nexceptional case--for a man, by long-continued indifference to the\nvoice within that says 'Thou shalt' or 'Thou shalt not,' to come at\nlast to never hearing it at all, or to its never speaking at all. It\nis 'seared as with a hot iron,' says one of the Apostles; and in\nseared flesh there is no feeling any more. Are any of you, dear\nfriends, bringing about such a state? Are you doing what you know you\nought not to do? Then you will be less and less troubled as the days\ngo on; and, by neglecting the voice, you will come at last to be like\nthe profligate woman in the book of Proverbs, who, after her sin,\n'wipes her mouth and says, I have done no harm.' Do you think _that_\nis a desirable state--to put out the eyes of your soul, to stifle\nwhat is the truest echo of God's voice that you will ever hear? Do\nyou not think that it would be wiser to get the blessed half of this\nlaw on your side, instead of the dreadful one? Listen to that voice.\nNever, as you value yourselves, neglect it. Cultivate the habit of\nwaiting for its monitions, its counsels prohibitory or commendatory,\nand then you will have done much to secure that your spirit shall be\nenriched by the operations of this wide-spread law.\n\nTake another illustration. People who, by circumstances, are placed\nin some position of dependence and subordination, where they have\nseldom to exercise the initiative of choice, but just to do what\nthey are bid, by degrees all but lose the power of making up their\nminds about anything. And so a slave set free is proverbially a\nhelpless creature, like a bit of driftwood; and children who have\nbeen too long kept in a position of pupilage and subordination, when\nthey are sent into the world are apt to turn out very feeble men,\nfor want of a good, strong backbone of will in them. So, many a\nwoman that has been accustomed to leave everything in her husband's\nhands, when the clods fall on his coffin finds herself utterly\nhelpless and bewildered, just because in the long, happy years she\nnever found it necessary to exercise her own judgment or her own\nwill about practical matters.\n\nSo do not get into the habit of letting circumstances settle what\nyou are to do, or you will lose the power of dominating them, before\nvery long. And if a man for years leaves himself, as it were, to be\nguided by the stream of circumstances, like long green weeds in a\nriver, he will lose the power of determining his own fate, and the\nWill will die clean out of him. Cultivate it, and it will grow.\n\nAgain, this same principle largely settles our knowledge, our\nconvictions, the operations and the furniture of our understandings.\nIf a man holds any truth slackly, or in the case of truths that are\nmeant to influence life and conduct, does not let it influence these,\nthen that is a kind of having truth that is sure to end in losing it.\nIf you want to lose your convictions grasp them loosely--do not act\nupon them, do not take them for guides of your life--and they will\nsoon relieve you of their unwelcome presence. If you wish mind and\nknowledge to grow, grip with a grip of iron what you do know, and\nlet it dominate you, as it ought. He that truly _has_ his\nlearning will learn more and pile by slow degrees stone upon stone,\nuntil the building is complete.\n\nSo, dear friends, here, in these illustrations, which might have\nbeen indefinitely enlarged, we see the working of a principle which\nhas much to do in making men what they are. What you use you\nincrease, what you leave unused you lose. There are grey heads in my\npresent audience who, when they were young men, had dreams and\naspirations that they bitterly smile at now. There are men here who\nbegan life with possibilities that have never blossomed or fruited,\nbut have died on the stem. Why? Because they were so much occupied\nwith the vulpine craft of making their position and their 'pile'\nthat generous emotions and noble sympathies and lofty aspirations,\nintellectual or otherwise, were all neglected, and so they are dead;\nand the men are the poorer incalculably, because of what has thus\nbeen shed away from them. You make your characters by the parts of\nyourselves that you choose to cultivate and employ. Do you think\nthat God gave us whatever of an intellectual and emotional and moral\nkind is in us, in order that it might be all used up in our daily\nbusiness? A very much scantier outfit would have done for all that\nis wanted for that. But there are abortive and dormant organs in\nyour spiritual nature, as there are in the corporeal, which tell you\nwhat you were meant for, and which it is your sin to leave\nundeveloped. Brethren, the law of my text shapes us in the two ways,\nthat whatever we cultivate, be it noble or be it bestial, will grow,\nand whatever we repress or neglect will die. Choose which of the two\nhalves of yourselves you will foster, and on which you will frown.\n\nSo much, then, for the first general application of these words. Now\nlet me turn for a moment to another.\n\nII. I would note, secondly, the application of this two-fold law in\nregard to God's revelation of Himself.\n\nThat is the bearing of it in the immediate context from which our\ntext is taken. Our Lord explains that teaching by parable--a\ntransparent veil over a truth--was adopted in order that the veiled\ntruth might be a test as well as a revelation. And although I do not\nbelieve that the Christian revelation has been made in any degree\nless plain and obvious than it could have been made, I cannot but\nrecognise the fact that the necessities of the case demand that,\nwhen God speaks to us, He should speak in such a fashion as that it\nis possible to say, 'Tush! It is not God that is speaking; it is\nonly Eli!' and so to turn about the young Samuel's mistake the other\nway. I do not believe that God has diminished the evidence of His\nRevelation in order to try us; but I do maintain that the Revelation\nwhich He has made does come to us, and must come to us, in such a\nform as that, not by mathematical demonstration but by moral\naffinity, we shall be led to recognise and to bow to it. He that\nwill be ignorant, let him be ignorant, and he that will come asking\nfor truth, it will flood his eyeballs with a blessed illumination.\nThe veil will but make more attractive to some eyes the outlines of\nthe fair form beneath it, whilst others are offended at it and say,\n'Unless we see the truth undraped, we will not believe that it is\ntruth at all.'\n\nSo, brethren, let me remind you--what is really but a repetition in\nreference to another subject of what I have already said,--that in\nregard to God's speech to men, and especially in regard to what I,\nfor my part, believe to be the complete and ultimate and perfect\nspeech of God to men, in Jesus Christ our Saviour, the principle of\nmy text holds good.\n\n'To him that hath shall be given.' If you will make that truth your\nown by loyal faith and honest obedience, if you will grapple it to\nyour heart, then you will learn more and more. Whatever tiny corner\nof the great whole you have grasped, hold on by that and draw it\ninto yourselves, and you will by degrees get the entire, glorious,\ngolden web to wrap round you. 'If any man wills to do His will he\nshall know.' That is Christ's promise; and it will be fulfilled to\nus all. 'To him that hath shall be given.'\n\nIf, on the other hand, you 'have' Christian truth and Christ, who is\nthe Truth, in the fashion in which so many of us have it and Him, as\na form, as a mere intellectual possession, so that we can, when we\ngo to church, repeat the creed without feeling that we are telling a\nlie, but that when we go to market we do not carry the Commandments\nwith us--if that is our Christianity, then it will dribble away into\nnothing. We shall not be much the poorer for the loss of such a sham\npossession, but it will go. It drops out of the hands that are not\nclasped to hold it. It is just that a thing so neglected shall some\nday be a thing withdrawn. So in regard to Revelation and a man's\nperception and reception of it, my text holds good in both its\nhalves.\n\nIII. Lastly, look at the application of these words in the future.\n\nThat is our Lord's own application of them, twice out of the five\ntimes in which the saying appears in the three Gospels: in the\nparable of the talents and in the parallel portion of the parable of\nthe pounds. I do not venture into the regions of speculation about\nthat future, but from the words before us there come clearly enough\ntwo aspects of it. The man with the ten talents received more; the\nman that had hid the talent or the pound in the ground was deprived\nof that which he had not used.\n\nNow, with regard to the former there is no difficulty in translating\nthe representations of the parables, sustained as they are by\ndistinct statements of other portions of Scripture. They come to\nthis, that, for the life beyond, indefinite progress in all that is\nnoble and blessed and Godlike in heart and character, in intellect\nand power, are certain; that faith, hope, love, here cultivated but\nputting forth few blossoms and small fruitage, there, in that higher\nhouse where these be planted, will flourish in the courts of the\nLord, and will bear fruit abundantly; that here the few things\nfaithfully administered will be succeeded yonder by the many things\nroyally ruled over; that here one small coin, as it were, is put\ninto our palm--namely the present blessedness and peace and strength\nand purity of a Christian life; and that yonder we possess the\ninheritance of which what we have here is but the earnest. It used\nto be the custom when a servant was hired for the next term-day to\ngive him one of the smallest coins of the realm as what was called\n'arles'--wages in advance, to seal the bargain. Similarly, in buying\nan estate a bit of turf was passed over to the purchaser. We get the\nearnest here of the broad acres of the inheritance above. 'To him\nthat hath shall be given.'\n\nAnd the other side of the same principle works in some terrible ways\nthat we cannot speak about. 'From him that hath not shall be taken\naway even that which he hath.' I have spoken of the terrible analogy\nto this solemn prospect which is presented us by the imperfect\nexperiences of earth. And when we see in others, or discover in\nourselves, how it is possible for unused faculties to die entirely\nout, I think we shall feel that there is a solemn background of very\nawful truth, in the representation of what befell the unfaithful\nservant. Hopes unnourished are gone; opportunities unimproved are\ngone, capacities undeveloped are gone; fold after fold, as it were,\nis peeled off the soul, until there is nothing left but the naked\nself, pauperised and empty-handed for evermore. 'Take it from him';\nhe never was the better for it; he never used it; he shall have it\nno longer.\n\nBrethren, cultivate the highest part of yourselves, and see to it that,\nby faith and obedience, you truly have the Saviour, whom you have by\nthe hearing of the ear and by outward profession. And then death will\ncome to you, as a nurse might to a child that came in from the fields\nwith its hands full of worthless weeds and grasses, to empty them in\norder to fill them with the flowers that never fade. You can choose\nwhether Death--and Life too, for that matter--shall be the porter\nthat will open to you the door of the treasure-house of God, or the\nrobber that will strip you of misused opportunities and unused talents.\n\n\n\n\nSEEING AND BLIND\n\n\n    'They seeing, see not.'--MATT. xiii, 13.\n\nThis is true about all the senses of the word 'seeing'; there is\nnot one man in ten thousand who sees the things before his eyes. Is\nnot this the distinction, for instance, of the poet or painter, and\nman of science--just that they do see? How true is this about the\neye of the mind, what a small number really understand what they\nknow! But these illustrations are of less moment than the saddest\nexample--religious indifference. I wish to speak about this now,\nand to ask you to consider--\n\n    I. The extent to which it prevails.\n    II. The causes from which it springs.\n    III. The fearful contrasts it suggests.\n    IV. The end to which it conducts.\n\nI. The extent to which it prevails.\n\nI have no hesitation in saying that it is the condition of by far\nthe largest proportion of our nation. It is the true enemy of souls.\nI do not believe that any large proportion of Englishmen are actual\ndisbelievers, who reject Christianity as unworthy of credence, or\nattach themselves to any of the innumerable varieties of deistical\nand pantheistical schools. I am not saying at present whether it\nwould be a more or less hopeful state if it were so, but only that\nit is not so, and that a complacent taking for granted of religious\ntruth, a torpor of soul, an entire carelessness about God and\nChrist, and the whole mighty scheme of the Gospel, is the\ncharacteristic of many in all classes of English society. We have it\nhere in our churches and chapels as the first foe we have to fight\nwith. Disbelief slays its thousands, and dissipation its tens of\nthousands, but this sleek, well-to-do carelessness, its millions. As\nsome one says, it is as if an opium sky had rained down soporifics.\n\nII. The causes from which it springs.\n\nOf course, the great cause of this condition is man's evil heart of\nalienation, the spirit of slumber--but we may find proximate and\nspecial causes.\n\nThere is the indifference springing from the absorbing interests of\nthe present. A man has only a certain quantity of interest to put\nforth. If he expends it all on small things, he has none for great.\nThis overmastering, overshadowing present draws us all to itself,\nand we have no power of attention or interest to spare for anything\nelse, or for reflection upon Christian truth in connection with our\nown conduct.\n\nThen there is the indifference caused by fear of what the results of\nattention might be. It is sometimes broken in upon, and men are in\ndanger of having their eyes opened, then with an effort they fling\nthemselves into some distraction, and sleep again. As the text says,\n'Their eyes have they closed; lest they should see with their eyes.'\n\nThen there is the indifference fed by an indolent acquiescence in\nthe truth. That is a favourite way of breaking the force of all\nunwelcome moral truth, and especially of the Gospel. A man says, 'Oh\nyes, it is true,' and because it is, therefore he thinks he has done\nenough when he has acknowledged it. Many do not seem to dream that\nthe Word has any personal application to them at all.\n\nThen there is the indifference which comes from long familiarity\nwith the truth. It is this which haunts our congregations and makes\nit so impossible to get at many who know all our message already.\nYou can tell them nothing they do not know. As with men who live by\na forge, the sound of the blow of the hammer only lulls them to\nsleep. The Gospel is so familiar to them that there is no longer any\npower about it. The vulgar emotion of wonder is not excited, and the\nother of love and admiration has not taken its place.\n\nMen who live in mountain scenery do not know its beauties, and as\nwith all other operations of the listless eye so with this, the old\nis deemed to be uninteresting, and the common is the commonplace. As\neven in the piece of earth that you have trodden on longest, you\nwould find marvels that you do not dream of if you would look, so\nhere. You have heard too much and reflected too little. Oh,\nbrethren, it oppresses a man who has to speak to you when he\nreflects how often you have heard it all, how the flow of the river\nonly seems to have worn your souls smooth enough to let it glide\npast without one stoppage.\n\nIII. The contrasts it suggests.\n\nContrast the indolence here with the earnestness in life. The same\nmen who sit with faces stolid and expressionless over a sermon--meet\nthem on Monday morning! They go to sleep at prayer or over a Bible,\nbut see them in a bargain or over a ledger. Think of what powers of\nintense love, yea, of almost fearful devotion and energy, lie in us,\nay and come out of us, and then think how poor, how cold we are\nhere, and we may well be ashamed. It is as if a burning mountain\nwith its cataract of fire were suddenly quenched and locked in\neverlasting frost, and all the flaming glory running down its\nheaving sides turned into a slow glacier. There comes ice instead of\nfire, frost instead of flame, snow instead of sparks. It is as if\nsome magician waved a wand and stiffened men into a paralysis.\nReligion seems to numb men instead of inspiring them. It is an awful\nthought of how they serve themselves and the world, how they can\nlove one another, how they can be stirred to noble enthusiasm, and\nhow little of all this ever comes to God.\n\nContrast the indifference of the men and the awfulness of the things\nthey are indifferent about. God--Christ--their souls--heaven--hell.\nThe grandest things men can think about, the mightiest realities in\nthe universe, the eternal, the most powerful, these it is which some\nof you, seeing, see not.\n\nContrast men's indifference and the earnestness of the rest of the\ncreation. God rose early and sent His prophets. He so loved the\nworld that He gave His Son. Christ died, lives, works, rules,\nexpects, beseeches. Angels desire to look into the wonders that you\n'seeing, see not'. What makes heaven fill with rapture, and flash\nthrough all her golden glories with light, what makes hell look on\nwith the lurid scowl of baffled malignity, that is what _you_\nare careless about. My friend, you and other men like you are the\nonly beings in the universe careless about the salvation of your\nsouls.\n\nIV. The end to which it conducts.\n\nThat end is certain ruin. Ah, dear friends, you do not need to do\nmuch to ruin your own souls. You have only to continue indifferent\nand you will do it effectually. Negligence is quite enough. Ruin is\nwhat it will certainly end in.\n\nAnd remember that when the possibility of salvation ends, your\nindifference will end too. The poor toad that is fascinated by the\nserpent, and drops powerless into the cruel jaws, wakes from the\nstupor when it feels the pang. And the lifelong torpor will be\ndissolved for you when you pass into another world. What an awful\nawaking that will be when men look back and see by the light of\neternity what they were doing here! Oh! friends, would to God that\nany poor word of mine could rouse you from this drugged and opiate\nsleep! Believe me, it is merciful violence which would rouse you.\nAnything rather than that the poison should work on till the heavy\nslumber darkens into death. Let me implore you, as you value your\nown souls, as you would not fling away your most precious jewel to\n'awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ\nshall give thee light.' Beware of the treacherous indifference which\ncreeps on, till, like men in the Arctic regions, the sleepers die.\n\n\n\n\nMINGLED IN GROWTH, SEPARATED IN MATURITY\n\n\n    'Another parable put He forth unto them, saying, The\n    kingdom of heaven is likened unto a man which sowed\n    good seed in his field: 25. But while men slept, his\n    enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat, and went\n    his way. 26. But when the blade was sprung up, and\n    brought forth fruit, then appeared the tares also.\n    27. So the servants of the householder came and said\n    unto him, Sir, didst not thou sow good seed in thy\n    field? from whence then hath it tares? 28. He said\n    unto them, An enemy hath done this. The servants said\n    unto him, Wilt thou then that we go and gather them up?\n    29. But he said, Nay; lest while ye gather up the\n    tares, ye root up also the wheat with them. 80. Let\n    both grow together until the harvest: and in the time\n    of harvest I will say to the reapers, Gather ye\n    together first the tares, and bind them in bundles to\n    burn them: but gather the wheat into my barn.'\n    --MATT. xiii. 24-30.\n\nThe first four parables contained in this chapter were spoken to a\nmiscellaneous crowd on the beach, the last three to the disciples in\nthe house. The difference of audience is accompanied with a diversity\nof subject. The former group deals with the growth of the kingdom, as\nit might be observed by outsiders, and especially with aspects of the\ngrowth on which the multitude needed instruction; the latter, with\ntopics more suited to the inner circle of followers. Of these four,\nthe first three are parables of vegetation; the last, of assimilation.\nThe first two are still more closely connected, inasmuch as the person\nof the sower is prominent in both, while he is not seen in the others.\nThe general scenery is the same in both, but with a difference. The\nidentification of the seed sown with the persons receiving it, which\nwas hinted at in the first, is predominant in the second. But while\nthe former described the various results of the seed, the latter\ndrops out of sight the three failures, and follows its fortunes in\nhonest and good hearts, showing the growth of the kingdom in the\nmidst of antagonistic surroundings. It may conveniently be considered\nin three sections: the first teaching how the work of the sower is\ncounter-worked by his enemy; the second, the patience of the sower\nwith the thick-springing tares; and the third, the separation at the\nharvest.\n\nI. The work of the sower counter-worked by his enemy, and the\nmingled crops.\n\nThe peculiar turn of the first sentence, 'The kingdom of heaven is\nlikened unto a man that sowed,' etc., suggests that the main purpose\nof the parable is to teach the conduct of the king in view of the\ngrowth of the tares. The kingdom is concentrated in Him, and the\n'likening' is not effected by the parable, but, as the tenses of\nboth verbs show, by the already accomplished fact of His sowing. Our\nLord veils His claims by speaking of the sower in the third person;\nbut the hearing ear cannot fail to catch the implication throughout\nthat He Himself is the sower and the Lord of the harvest. The field\nis 'his field,' and His own interpretation tells us that it means\n'the world.' Whatever view we take of the bearing of this parable on\npurity of communion in the visible Church, we should not slur over\nChrist's own explanation of 'the field,' lest we miss the lesson\nthat He claims the whole world as His, and contemplates the sowing\nof the seed broadcast over it all. The Kingdom of Heaven is to be\ndeveloped on, and to spread through, the whole earth. The world\nbelongs to Christ not only when it is filled with the kingdom, but\nbefore the sowing. The explanation of the good seed takes the same\npoint of view as in the former parable. What is sown is 'the word';\nwhat springs from the seed is the new life of the receiver. Men\nbecome children of the kingdom by taking the Gospel into their\nhearts, and thereby receive a new principle of growth, which in\ntruth becomes themselves.\n\nSide by side with the sower's beneficent work the counter-working of\n'his enemy' goes on. As the one, by depositing holy truth in the\nheart, makes men 'children of the kingdom,' the other, by putting\nevil principles therein, makes men 'children of evil.' Honest\nexposition cannot eliminate the teaching of a personal antagonist of\nChrist, nor of his continuous agency in the corruption of mankind.\nIt is a glimpse into a mysterious region, none the less reliable\nbecause so momentary. The sulphurous clouds that hide the fire in\nthe crater are blown aside for an instant, and we see. Who would\ndoubt the truth and worth of the unveiling because it was short and\npartial? 'The devil is God's ape.' His work is a parody of Christ's.\nWhere the good seed is sown, there the evil is scattered thickest.\nFalse Christs and false apostles dog the true like their shadows.\nEvery truth has its counterfeit. Neither institutions, nor\nprinciples, nor movements, nor individuals, bear unmingled crops of\ngood. Not merely creatural imperfection, but hostile adulteration,\nmarks them all. The purest metal oxidises, scum gathers on the most\nlimpid water, every ship's bottom gets foul with weeds. The history\nof every reformation is the same: radiant hopes darkened, progress\nretarded, a second generation of dwarfs who are careless or\nunfaithful guardians of their heritage.\n\nThere are, then, two classes of men represented in the parable, and\nthese two are distinguishable without doubt by their conduct. Tares\nare said to be quite like wheat until the heads show, and then there\nis a plain difference. So our Lord here teaches that the children of\nthe kingdom and those of evil are to be discriminated by their\nactions. We need not do more than point in a sentence to His\ndistinct separation of men (where the seed of the kingdom has been\nsown) into two sets. Jesus Christ holds the unfashionable, 'narrow'\nopinion that, at bottom, a man must either be His friend or His\nenemy. We are too much inclined to weaken the strong line of\ndemarcation, and to think that most men are neither black nor white,\nbut grey.\n\nThe question has been eagerly debated whether the tares are bad men\nin the Church, and whether, consequently, the mingled crop is a\ndescription of the Church only. The following considerations may\nhelp to an answer. The parable was spoken, not to the disciples, but\nto the crowd. An instruction to them as to Church discipline would\nhave been signally out of place; but they needed to be taught that\nthe kingdom was to be 'a rose amidst thorns,' and to grow up among\nantagonisms which it would slowly conquer, by the methods which the\nnext two parables set forth. This general conception, and not\ndirections about ecclesiastical order, was suited to them. Again,\nthe designation of the tares as 'the children of evil' seems much\ntoo wide, if only a particular class of evil men--namely, those who\nare within the Church--are meant by it. Surely the expression\nincludes all, both in and outside the Church, who 'do iniquity.'\nFurther, the representation of the children of the kingdom, as\ngrowing among tares in the field of the world, does not seem to\ncontemplate them as constituting a distinct society, whether pure or\nimpure; but rather as an indefinite number of individuals,\nintermingled in a common soil with the other class. 'The kingdom of\nheaven' is not a synonym for the Church. Is it not an anachronism to\nfind the Church in the parable at all? No doubt, tares are in the\nChurch, and the parable has a bearing on it; but its primary lesson\nseems to me to be much wider, and to reveal rather the conditions of\nthe growth of the kingdom in human society.\n\nII. We have the patience of the husbandman with the quick-springing\ntares.\n\nThe servants of the householder receive no interpretation from our\nLord. Their question is silently passed by in His explanation.\nClearly then, for some reason, He did not think it necessary to say\nany more about them; and the most probable reason is, that they and\ntheir words have no corresponding facts, and are only introduced to\nlead up to the Master's explanation of the mystery of the growth of\nthe tares, and to His patience with it. The servants cannot be\nsupposed to represent officials in the Church, without hopelessly\ndestroying the consistency of the parable; for surely all the\nchildren of the kingdom, whatever their office, are represented in\nthe crop. Many guesses have been made,--apostles, angels, and so on.\nIt is better to say 'The Lord hath not showed it me.'\n\nThe servant's first question expresses, in vivid form, the sad, strange\nfact that, where good was sown, evil springs. The deepest of all\nmysteries is the origin of evil. Explain sin, and you explain everything.\nThe question of the servants is the despair of thinkers in all ages.\nHeaven sows only good; where do the misery and the wickedness\ncome from? That is a wider and sadder question than, How are churches\nnot free from bad members? Perhaps Christ's answer may go as far\ntowards the bottom of the bottomless as those of non-Christian thinkers,\nand, if it do not solve the metaphysical puzzles, at any rate gives\nthe historical fact, which is all the explanation of which the question\nis susceptible.\n\nThe second question reminds us of 'Wilt Thou that we command fire...\nfrom heaven, and consume them?' It is cast in such a form as to put\nemphasis on the householder's will. His answer forbidding the\ngathering up of the tares is based, not upon any chance of mistaking\nwheat for them, nor upon any hope that, by forbearance, tares may\nchange into wheat, but simply on what is best for the good crop.\nThere was a danger of destroying some of it, not because of its\nlikeness to the other, but because the roots of both were so\ninterlaced that one could not be pulled up without dragging the\nother after it.\n\nIs this prohibition, then, meant to forbid the attempt to keep the\nChurch pure from un-Christian members? The considerations already\nadduced are valid in answering this question, and others may be\nadded. The crowd of listeners had, no doubt, many of them, been\ninfluenced by John the Baptist's fiery prophecies of the King who\nshould come, fan in hand, to 'purge His floor,' and were looking for\na kingdom which was to be inaugurated by sharp separation and swift\ndestruction. Was not the teaching needed then, as it is now, that\nthat is not the way in which the kingdom of heaven is to be founded\nand grow? Is not the parable best understood when set in connection\nwith the expectations of its first hearers, which are ever floating\nanew before the eyes of each generation of Christians? Is it not\nChrist's _apologia_ for His delay in filling the _r\u00f4le_ which John had\ndrawn out for him? And does that conception of its meaning make it\nmeaningless for us? Observe, too, that the rooting up which is forbidden\nis, by the proprieties of the emblem, and by the parallel which it\nmust necessarily afford to the final burning, something very solemn\nand destructive. We may well ask whether excommunication is a\nsufficiently weighty idea to be taken as its equivalent. Again, how\ndoes the interpretation which sees ecclesiastical discipline here\ncomport with the reason given for letting the tares grow on? By the\nhypothesis in the parable, there is no danger of mistake; but is there\nany danger of casting out good men from the Church along with the\nbad, except through mistake? Further, if this parable forbids casting\nmanifestly evil men out of the Church, it contradicts the divinely\nappointed law of the Church as administered by the apostles. If it\nis to be applied to Church action at all, it absolutely forbids the\nseparation from the Church of any man, however notoriously un-Christian,\nand that, as even the strongest advocates of comprehension admit,\nwould destroy the very idea of the Church. Surely an interpretation\nwhich lands us in such a conclusion cannot be right. We conclude,\nthen, that the intermingling which the parable means is that of good\nmen and bad in human society, where all are so interwoven that\nseparation is impossible without destroying its whole texture; that\nthe rooting up, which is declared to be inconsistent with the growth\nof the crop, means removal from the field, namely, the world; that\nthe main point of the second part of the parable is to set forth the\npatience of the Lord of the harvest, and to emphasise this as the\nlaw of the growth of His kingdom, that it advances amidst antagonism;\nand that its members are interlaced by a thousand rootlets with those\nwho are not subjects of their King. What the interlacing is for, and\nwhether tares may become wheat, are no parts of its teaching. But\nthe lesson of the householder's forbearance is meant to be learned\nby us. While we believe that the scope of the parable is wider than\ninstruction in Church discipline, we do not forget that a fair inference\nfrom it is that, in actual churches, there will ever be a mingling of\ngood and evil; and, though that fact is no reason for giving up the\nattempt to make a church a congregation of faithful men, and of such\nonly, it is a reason for copying the divine patience of the sower in\necclesiastical dealings with errors of opinion and faults of\nconduct.\n\nIII. The final separation at the harvest.\n\nThe period of development is necessarily a time of intermingling, in\nwhich, side by side, the antagonistic principles embodied in their\nrepresentatives work themselves out, and beneficially affect each\nother. But each grows towards an end, and, when it has been reached,\nthe blending gives place to separation. John's prophecy is plainly\nquoted in the parable, which verbally repeats his 'gather the wheat\ninto his barn,' and alludes to his words in the other clause about\nburning the tares. He was right in his anticipations; his error was\nin expecting the King to wield His fan at the beginning, instead of\nat the end of the earthly form of His kingdom. At the consummation\nof the allotted era, the bands of human society are to be dissolved,\nand a new principle of association is to determine men's place.\nTheir moral and religious affinities will bind them together or\nseparate them, and all other ties will snap. This marshalling\naccording to religious character is the main thought of the solemn\nclosing words of the parable and of its interpretation, in which our\nLord presents Himself as directing the whole process of judgment by\nmeans of the 'angels' who execute His commands. They are 'His\nangels,' and whatever may be the unknown activity put forth by them\nin the parting of men, it is all done in obedience to Him. What\nstupendous claims Jesus makes here! What becomes of the tares is\ntold first in words awful in their plainness, and still more awful\nin their obscurity. They speak unmistakably of the absolute\nseparation of evil men from all society but that of evil men; of a\nclose association, compelled, and perhaps unwelcome. The tares are\ngathered out of 'His kingdom,'--for the field of the world has then\nall become the kingdom of Christ. There are two classes among the\ntares: men whose evil has been a snare to others (for the 'things\nthat offend' must, in accordance with the context, be taken to be\npersons), and the less guilty, who are simply called 'them that do\niniquity.'\n\nPerhaps the 'bundles' may imply assortment according to sin, as in\nDante's circles. What a bond of fellowship that would be!\n'_The_ furnace,' as it is emphatically called by eminence,\nburns up the bundles. We may freely admit that the fire is part of\nthe parable, but yet let us not forget that it occurs not only in\nthe parable, but in the interpretation; and let us learn that the\nprose reality of 'everlasting destruction,' which Christ here\nsolemnly announces, is awful and complete. For a moment He passes\nbeyond the limits of that parable, to add that terrible clause about\n'weeping and gnashing of teeth,' the tokens of despair and rage. So\nspoke the most loving and truthful lips. Do we believe His warnings\nas well as His promises?\n\nThe same law of association according to character operates in the\nother region. The children of the kingdom are gathered together in\nwhat is now 'the kingdom of My Father,' the perfect form of the\nkingdom of Christ, which is still His kingdom, for 'the throne of\nGod and of the Lamb,' the one throne on which both sit to reign, is\n'in it.' Freed from association with evil, they are touched with a\nnew splendour, caught from Him, and blaze out like the sun; for so\nclose is their association, that their myriad glories melt as into a\nsingle great light. Now, amid gloom and cloud, they gleam like tiny\ntapers far apart; then, gathered into one, they flame in the\nforehead of the morning sky, 'a glorious church, not having spot,\nnor wrinkle, nor any such thing.'\n\n\n\n\nLEAVEN\n\n\n    'The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a\n    woman took, and bid to three measures of meal, till\n    the whole was leavened.'--MATT. xiii. 33.\n\nHow lovingly and meditatively Jesus looked upon homely life, knowing\nnothing of the differences, the vulgar differences, between the\nsmall and great! A poor woman, with her morsel of barm, kneading it\nup among three measures of meal, in some coarse earthenware pan,\nstands to Him as representing the whole process of His work in the\nworld. Matthew brings together in this chapter a series of seven\nparables of the kingdom, possibly spoken at different times, and\ngathered here into a sequence and series, just as he has done with\nthe great procession of miracles that follows the Sermon on the\nMount, and just as, perhaps, he has done with that sermon itself.\nThe two first of the seven deal with the progress of the Gospel in\nindividual minds and the hindrances thereto. Then there follows a\npair, of which my text is the second, which deal with the\ngeographical expansion of the kingdom throughout the world, in the\nparable of the grain of mustard-seed growing into the great herb,\nand with the inward, penetrating, diffusive influence of the\nkingdom, working as an assimilating and transforming force in the\nmidst of society.\n\nI do not purpose to enter now upon the wide and difficult question\nof the relation of the kingdom to the Church. Suffice it to say that\nthe two terms are by no means synonymous, but that, at the same\ntime, inasmuch as a kingdom implies a community of subjects, the\nchurches, in the proportion in which they have assimilated the\nleaven, and are holding fast by the powers which Christ has lodged\nwithin them, are approximate embodiments of the kingdom. The\nparable, then, suggests to us, in a very striking and impressive\nform, the function and the obligations of Christian people in the\nworld.\n\nLet me deal, in a purely expository fashion, with the emblem before\nus.\n\n'The kingdom of heaven is like leaven.' Now of course, leaven is\ngenerally in Scripture taken as a symbol of evil or corruption. For\nexample, the preliminary to the Passover Feast was the purging of\nthe houses of the Israelites of every scrap of evil ferment, and the\nbread which was eaten on that Feast was prescribed to be unleavened.\nBut fermentation works ennobling as well as corruption, and our Lord\nlays hold upon the other possible use of the metaphor. The parable\nteaches that the effect of the Gospel, as ministered by, and\nresiding in, the society of men, in whom the will of God is supreme,\nis to change the heavy lump of dough into light, nutritious bread.\nThere are three or four points suggested by the parable which I\ncould touch upon; and the first of them is that significant\ndisproportion between the apparent magnitude of the dead mass that\nis to be leavened, and the tiny piece of active energy which is to\ndiffuse itself throughout it.\n\nWe get there a glimpse into our Lord's attitude, measuring Himself\nagainst the world and the forces that were in it. He knows that in\nHim, the sole Representative, at the moment, of the kingdom of\nheaven upon earth--because in Him, and in Him alone, the divine will\nwas, absolutely and always, supreme--there lie, for the time\nconfined to Him, but never dormant, powers which are adequate to the\ntransformation of humanity from a dead, lumpish mass into an\naggregate all-penetrated by a quickening influence, and, if I might\nso say, fermented with a new life that He will bring. A tremendous\nconception, and the strange thing about it is that it looks as if\nthe Nazarene peasant's dream was going to come true! But He was\nspeaking to the men whom He was charging with a delegated task, and\nto them He says, 'There are but twelve of you, and you are poor,\nignorant men, and you have no resources at your back, but you have\nMe, and that is enough, and you may be sure that the tiny morsel of\nyeast will penetrate the whole mass.' Small beginnings characterise\nthe causes which are destined to great endings; the things that are\nushered into the world large, generally grow very little further,\nand speedily collapse. 'An inheritance may be gotten hastily at the\nbeginning, but the end shall not be blessed.' The force which is\ndestined to be worldwide, began with the one Man in Nazareth, and\nalthough the measures of meal are three, and the ferment is a scrap,\nit is sure to permeate and transform the mass.\n\nTherefore, brethren, let us take the encouragement that our Lord\nhere offers. If we are adherents of unpopular causes, if we have to\n'stand alone with two or three,' do not let us count heads, but\nmeasure forces. 'What everybody says must be true,' is a cowardly\nproverb. It may be a correct statement that an absolutely universal\nopinion is a true opinion, but what most people say is usually\nfalse, and what the few say is most generally true. So if we have to\nfront--and if we are true men we shall sometimes have to front--an\nembattled mass of antagonism, and we be in a miserable minority,\nnever mind! We can say, 'They that be with us are more than they\nthat be with them.' If we have anything of the leaven in us, we are\nmightier than the lump of dough.\n\nBut there is another point here, and that is the contact that is\nnecessary between the leaven and the dough. We have passed from the\nold monastic idea of Religion being seclusion from life. But that\nmistake dies hard, and there are many very Evangelical and very\nProtestant--and in their own notions superlatively good--people, who\nhold a modern analogue of the old monastic idea; and who think that\nChristian men and women should be very tepidly interested in\nanything except what they call the preaching of the Gospel, and the\nsaving of men's souls. Now nobody that knows me, and the trend of my\npreaching, will charge me with undervaluing either of these things,\nbut these do not exhaust the function of the Church in the world,\nnor the duty of the Church to society. We have to learn from the\nmetaphor in the parable. The dough is not kept on one shelf and the\nleaven on another; the bit of leaven is plunged into the heart of\nthe mass, and then the woman kneads the whole up in her pan, and so\nthe influence is spread. We Christians are not doing our duty, nor\nare we using our capacities, unless we fling ourselves frankly and\nenergetically into all the currents of the national life,\ncommercial, political, municipal, intellectual, and make our\ninfluence felt in them all. The 'salt of the earth' is to be rubbed\ninto the meat in order to keep it from putrefaction; the leaven is\nto be kneaded up into the dough in order to raise it. Christian\npeople are to remember that they are here, not for the purpose of\nisolating themselves, but in order that they may touch life at all\npoints, and at all points bring into contact with earthly life the\nbetter life and the principles of Christian morality.\n\nBut in this contact with all phases of life and forms of activity,\nChristian men are to be sure that they take the leaven with them.\nThere are professing Christians that say: 'Oh! I am not strait-laced\nand pharisaical. I do not keep myself apart from any movements of\nhumanity. I count nothing that belongs to men alien to a Christian.'\nAll right! but when you go into these movements, when you go into\nParliament, when you become a city Councillor, when you mingle with\nother men in commerce, when you meet other students in the walks of\nintellect, do you take your Christianity there, or do you leave it\nbehind? The two things are equally necessary, that Christians should\nbe in all these various spheres of activity, and that they should be\nthere, distinctly, manifestly, and, when need be, avowedly, as\nChristian men.\n\nFurther, there is another thought here, on which I just say one\nword, and that is the effect of the leaven on the dough.\n\nIt is to assimilate, to set up a ferment. And that is what\nChristianity did when it came into the world, and\n\n  'Cast the kingdoms old\n   Into another mould.'\n\nAnd that is what it ought to do to-day, and will do, if Christian\nmen are true to themselves and to their Lord. Do you not think that\nthere would be a ferment if Christian principles were applied, say,\nfor instance, to national politics? Do you not think there would be\na ferment if Christian principles were brought to bear upon all the\ntransactions on the Exchange? Is there any region of life into which\nthe introduction of the plain precepts of Christianity as the\nsupreme law would not revolutionise it? We talk about England as a\nChristian country. Is it? A Christian country is a country of\nChristians, and Christians are not people that only say 'I have\nfaith in Jesus Christ.' but people that do His will. That is the\nleaven that is to change, and yet not to change, the whole mass; to\nchange it by lightening it, by putting a new spirit into it, leaving\nthe substance apparently unaffected except in so far as the\nsubstance has been corrupted by the evil spirit that rules.\nBrethren, if we as Christians were doing our duty, it would be true\nof us as it was of the early preachers of the Cross, that we are men\nwho turn the world upside down.\n\nBut there is one more point on which I touch. I have already\nanticipated some of what I would say upon it, but I must dwell upon\nit for a little longer; and that is, the manner in which the leaven\nis to work.\n\nHere is a morsel of barm in the middle of a lump of dough. It works\nby contact, touches the particles nearest it, and transforms them\ninto vehicles for the further transmission of influence. Each\nparticle touched by the ferment becomes itself a ferment, and so the\nprocess goes on, outwards and ever outwards, till it permeates the\nwhole mass. That is to say, the individual is to become the\ntransmitter of the influence to him who is next him. The\nindividuality of the influence, and the track in which it is to\nwork, viz. upon those in immediate contiguity to the transformed\nparticle which is turned from dough into leaven, are taught us here\nin this wonderful simile.\n\nNow that carries a very serious and solemn lesson for us all. If you\nhave received, you are able, and you are bound, to transmit this\nquickening, assimilating, transforming, lightening influence, and\nyou need never complain of a want of objects upon which to exercise\nit, for the man or woman that is next you is the person that you\nought to affect.\n\nNow I have already said, in an earlier portion of these remarks,\nthat some good people, taking an erroneous view of the function and\nobligations of the Church in the world, would fain keep its work to\npurely evangelistic effort upon individual souls in presenting to\nthem the Gospel of Jesus Christ the Saviour. But whilst I vehemently\nprotest against the notion that that is the whole function of the\nChristian Church, I would as vehemently protest against the notion\nthat the so-called social work of the Church can ever be efficiently\ndone except upon the foundation laid of this evangelistic work.\nFirst and foremost amongst the ways in which this great obligation\nof leavening humanity is to be discharged, must ever stand, as I\nbelieve, the appeal to the individual conscience and heart, and the\npresentation to single souls of the great Name in which are stored\nall the regenerative and quickening impulses that can ever alleviate\nand bless humanity. So that, first and foremost, I put the preaching\nof the Gospel, the Gospel of our salvation, by the death and in the\nlife of the Incarnate Son of God.\n\nBut then, besides that, let me remind you there are other ways,\nsubsidiary but indispensable ways, in which the Church has to\ndischarge its function; and I put foremost amongst these, what I\nhave already touched upon, and therefore need not dilate on now, the\nduty of Christians as Christians to take their full share in all the\nvarious forms of national life. I need not dwell upon the evils\nrampant amongst us, which have to be dealt with, and, as I believe,\nmay best if not only, be dealt with, upon Christian principles.\nThink of drink, lust, gambling, to name but three of them, the\nhydra-headed serpent that is poisoning the English nation. Now it\nseems to me to be a deplorable, but a certainly true thing, that not\nonly are these evils not attacked by the Churches as they ought to\nbe, but that to a very large extent the task of attacking them has\nfallen into the hands of people who have little sympathy with the\nChurch and its doctrines. They are fighting the evils on principles\ndrawn from Jesus Christ, but they are not fighting the evils to the\nextent that they ought to do, with the Churches alongside. I beseech\nyou, in your various spheres, to see to it that, as far as you can\nmake it so, Christian people take the place that Christ meant them\nto take in the conflict with the miseries, the sorrows, the sins\nthat honeycomb England to-day, and not to let it be said that the\nChurches shut themselves up and preach to people, but do not lift a\nfinger to deal with the social evils of the nation.\n\n\n\n\nTREASURE AND PEARL\n\n\n    The kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a\n    field; the which when a man hath found, he hideth, and\n    for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and\n    buyeth that field. 45. Again, the kingdom of heaven is\n    like unto a merchantman, seeking goodly pearls: 46. Who,\n    when he had found one pearl of great price, went and\n    sold all that he had, and bought it.'--MATT. xiii. 44-46.\n\nIn this couple of parables, which are twins, and must be taken\ntogether, our Lord utilises two very familiar facts of old-world\nlife, both of them arising from a similar cause. In the days when\nthere were no banks and no limited liability companies, it was\ndifficult for a man to know what to do with his little savings. In\nold times government meant oppression, and it was dangerous to seem\nto have any riches. In old days war stalked over the land, and men's\nproperty must be portable or else concealed. So, on the one hand we\nfind the practice of hiding away little hoards in some suitable\nplace, beneath a rock, in the cleft of a tree, or a hole dug in the\nground, and then, perhaps, the man died before he came back for his\nwealth. Or, again, another man might prefer to carry his wealth\nabout with him. So he went and got jewels, easily carried, not\neasily noticed, easily convertible into what he might require.\n\nAnd, says our Lord, these two practices, with which all the people\nto whom He was speaking were very much more familiar than we are,\nteach us something about the kingdom of God. Now, I am not going to\nbe tempted to discuss what our Lord means by that phrase, so\nfrequent upon His lips, 'the kingdom of God' or 'of heaven.' Suffice\nit to say that it means, in the most general terms, a state or order\nof things in which God is King, and His will supreme and sovereign.\nChrist came, as He tells us, to found and to extend that kingdom\nupon earth. A man can go into it, and it can come into a man, and\nthe conditions on which he enters into it, and it into him, are laid\ndown in this pair of parables. So I ask you to notice their\nsimilarities and their divergences. They begin alike and they run on\nalike for a little way, and then they diverge. There is a fork in\nthe road, and they reunite at the end again. They agree in their\nrepresentation of the treasure; they diverge in their explanation of\nthe process of discovering it, and they unite at last in the final\nissue. So, then, we have to look at these three points.\n\nI. Let me ask you to think that the true treasure for a man lies in\nthe kingdom of God.\n\nIt is not exactly said that the treasure is the kingdom, but the\ntreasure is found in the kingdom, and nowhere else. Let us put away\nthe metaphor; it means that the only thing that will make us rich is\nloving submission to the supreme law of the God whom we love because\nwe know that He loves us.  You may put that thought into half a\ndozen different forms. You may say that the treasure is the blessing\nthat comes from Christianity, or the inward wealth of a submissive\nheart, or may use various modes of expression, but below them all\nlies this one great thought, that it is laid on my heart, dear\nbrethren, to try and lay on yours now, that, when all is said and\ndone, the only possession that makes us rich is--is what? God\nHimself. For that is the deepest meaning of the treasure. And\nwhatever other forms of expression we may use to designate it, they\nall come back at last to this, that the wealth of the human soul is\nto have God for its very own.\n\nLet me run over two or three points that show us that. That treasure\nis the only one that meets our deepest poverty. We do not all know\nwhat that is, but whether you know it or not, dear friend, the thing\nthat you want most is to have your sins dealt with, in the double\nway of having them forgiven as guilt, and in having them taken away\nfrom you as tyrants and dominators over your wills. And it is only\nGod who can do that, 'God in Christ reconciling the world unto\nHimself, not imputing their trespasses unto them,' and giving them,\nby a new life which He breathes into dead souls, emancipation from\nthe tyrants that rule over them, and thus bringing them 'into the\nliberty of the glory of the sons of God.' 'Thou sayest that Thou art\nrich and increased with goods ... and knowest not that thou art poor\n... and naked.' Brother, until you have found out that it is only God\nwho will save you from being bankrupt, and enable you to pay your\ndebts, which are your duties, you do not know where your true riches\nare. And if you have all that men can acquire of the lower things of\nlife, whether of what is generally called wealth or of other material\nbenefits, and have that great indebtedness standing against you, you\nare but an insolvent after all. Here is the treasure that will make\nyou rich, because it will pay your debts, and endow you with capacity\nenough to meet all future expenditure--viz. the possession of the\nforgiving and cleansing grace of God which is in Jesus Christ. If\nyou have that, you are rich; if you do not possess it, you are poor.\nNow you believe that, as much as I do, most of you. Well, what do you\ndo in consequence?\n\nFurther, the possession of God, who belongs to all those that are\nthe subjects of the kingdom of God, is our true treasure, because\nthat wealth, and that alone, meets at once all the diverse wants of\nthe human soul. There is nothing else of which that can be said.\nThere are a great many other precious things in this world--human\nloves, earthly ambitions of noble and legitimate kinds. No one but a\nfool will deny the convenience and the good of having a competency\nof this world's possessions. But all these have this miserable\ndefect, or rather limitation, that they each satisfy some little\ncorner of a man's nature, and leave all the rest, if I may so say,\nlike the beasts in a menagerie whose turn has not yet come to be\nfed, yelping and growling while the keeper is at the den of another\none. There is only one thing that, being applied, as it were, at the\nvery centre, will diffuse itself, like some fragrant perfume,\nthrough the whole sphere, and fill the else scentless air with its\nrich and refreshing fragrance. There is but one wealth which meets\nthe whole of human nature. You, however small you are, however\ninsignificant people may think you, however humbly you may think of\nyourselves, you are so great that the whole created Universe, if it\nwere yours, would be all too little for you. You cannot fill a\nbottomless bog with any number of cartloads of earth. And you know\nas well as I can tell you that 'he that loveth silver shall not be\nsatisfied with silver, nor he that loveth abundance with increase,'\nand that none of the good things here below, rich and precious as\nmany of them are, are large enough to fill, much less to expand, the\nlimitless desires of one human heart. As the ancient Latin father\nsaid, 'Lord, Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our heart is unquiet\ntill it attains to Thee.'\n\nClosely connected with that thought, but capable of being dealt with\nfor a moment apart, is the other, that this is our true treasure,\nbecause we have it all in one.\n\nYou remember the beautiful emphasis of one of the parables in our\ntext about the man that dissipated himself in seeking for many\ngoodly pearls? He had secured a whole casket full of little ones.\nThey were pearls, they were many; but then he saw one Orient pearl,\nand he said, 'The one is more than the many. Let me have unity, for\nthere is rest; whereas in multiplicity there is restlessness and\nchange.' The sky to-night may be filled with galaxies of stars.\nBetter one sun than a million twinkling tininesses that fill the\nheavens, and yet do not scatter the darkness. Oh, brethren, to have\none aim, one love, one treasure, one Christ, one God--there is the\nsecret of blessedness. 'Unite my heart to fear Thy name'; and then\nall the miseries of multiplicity, and of drawing our supplies from a\nmultitude of separate lakes, will be at an end, when our souls are\nflooded from the one fountain of life that can never fail or be\nturbid. Thus, the unity of the treasure is the supreme excellence of\nthe treasure.\n\nNor need I remind you in more than a word of how this is our true\ntreasure, because it is our permanent one. Nothing that can be taken\nfrom me is truly mine. Those of you who have lived in a great\ncommercial community as long as I have done, know that it is not for\nnothing that sovereigns are made circular, for they roll very\nrapidly, and 'riches take to themselves wings and fly away.' We can\nall go back to instances of men who set their hearts upon wealth,\nand flaunted their little hour before us as kings of the Exchange,\nand were objects of adoration and of envy, and at last were left\nstranded in poverty. Nothing that can be stripped from you by the\naccidents of life, or by inevitable death, is worth calling your\n'good.' You must have something that is intertwined with the very\nfibres of your being. And I, unworthy as I am, come to you, dear\nfriends, now, with this proffer of the great gift of wealth from\nwhich 'neither life, nor death, nor angels, nor principalities, nor\npowers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor\ndepth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us.' And I\nbeseech you to ask yourselves, Is there anything worth calling\nwealth, except that wealth which meets my deepest need, which\nsatisfies my whole nature, which I may have all in one, and which,\nif I have, I may have for ever? That wealth is the God who may be\n'the strength of your hearts and your heritage for ever.'\n\nII. Now notice, secondly, the concealment of the treasure.\n\nAccording to the first of our parables, the treasure was hid in a\nfield. That is very largely local colouring, which gives veracity\nand vraisemblance to the fact of the story. And there has been a\ngreat deal of very unnecessary and misplaced ingenuity spent in\ntrying to force interpretations upon every feature of the parable,\nwhich I do not intend to imitate, but I just wish to suggest one\nthing. Here was this man in the story, who had plodded across that\nfield a thousand times, and knew every clod of it, and had never\nseen the wealth that was lying six inches below the surface. Now,\nthat is very like some of my present hearers. God's treasure comes\nto the world in a form which to a great many people veils, if it\ndoes not altogether hide, its preciousness. You have heard sermons\ntill you are sick of sermons, and I do not wonder at it, if you have\nheard them and never thought of acting on them. You know all that I\ncan tell you, most of you, about Jesus Christ, and what He has done\nfor you, and what you should do towards Him, and your familiarity\nwith the Word has blinded you to its spirit and its power. You have\ngone over the field so often that you have made a path across it,\nand it seems incredible to you that there should be anything worth\nyour picking up there. Ah! dear friends, Jesus Christ, when He was\nhere, 'in whom were hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge,'\nhad to the men that looked upon Him 'neither form nor comeliness\nthat they should desire Him,' and He was to them a stumbling-block\nand foolishness. And Christ's Gospel comes among busy men, worldly\nmen, men who are under the dominion of their passions and desires,\nmen who are pursuing science and knowledge, and it looks to them\nvery homely, very insignificant; they do not know what treasure is\nlying in it. You do not know what treasure is lying--may I venture\nto say it?--in these poor words of mine, in so far as they truly\nrepresent the mind and will of God. Dear brethren, the treasure is\nhid, but that is not because God did not wish you to see it; it is\nbecause you have made yourselves blind to its flashing brightness.\n'If our Gospel be hid, it is hid to them ... in whom the god of this\nworld hath blinded their eyes.' If your whole desires are passionately\nset on that which Manchester recognises as the _summum bonum_, or,\nif you are living without a thought beyond this present, how can you\nexpect to see the treasure, though it is lying there before your eyes?\nYou have buried it, or, rather, you have made that which is its\nnecessary envelope to be its obscuration. I pray you, look through the\nforms, look beneath the words of Scripture, and try and clear your\neyesight from the hallucinations of the dazzling present, and you will\nsee the treasure that is hid in the field.\n\nIII. Again, let me ask you to notice, further, the two ways of\nfinding.\n\nThe rustic in the first story, who, as I said, had plodded across\nthe field a hundred times, was doing it for the hundred and first,\nor perhaps was at work there with his mattock or his homely plough.\nAnd, perchance, some stroke of the spade, or push of the coulter,\nwent a little deeper than usual, and there flashed the gold, or some\nshower of rain came on, and washed away a little of the\nsuperincumbent soil, and laid bare the bag. Now, that is what often\nhappens, for you have to remember that though you are not seeking\nGod, God is always seeking you, and so the great saying comes to be\ntrue, 'I am found of them that sought Me not.' There have been many\ncases like the one of the man who, breathing out threatenings and\nslaughter, with no thought in his mind except to bind the disciples\nand bring them captive to Jerusalem, saw suddenly a light from\nheaven flashing down upon him, and a Voice that pulled him up in the\nmidst of his career. Ah! it would be an awful thing if no one found\nChrist except those who set out to seek for Him. Like the dew on the\ngrass 'that waiteth not for men, nor tarrieth for the sons of men,'\nHe often comes to hearts that are thinking about nothing less than\nabout Him.\n\nThere are men and women listening to me now who did not come here\nwith any expectation of being confronted with this message to their\nsouls; they may have been drawn by curiosity or by a hundred other\nmotives. If there is one such, to whom I am speaking, who has had no\ndesires after the treasure, who has never thought that God was his\nonly Good, who has been swallowed up in worldly things and the\ncommon affairs of life, and who now feels as if a sudden flash had\nlaid bare the hidden wealth in the familiar Gospel, I beseech such a\none not to turn away from the discovered treasure, but to make it\nhis own. Dear friend, you may not be looking for the wealth, but\nChrist is looking for His lost coin. And, though it has rolled away\ninto some dusty corner, and is lying there all unaware, I venture to\nsay that He is seeking you by my poor words to-night, and is saying\nto you: 'I counsel thee to buy of Me gold tried in the fire.'\n\nBut then another class is described in the other parable of the\nmerchantman who was seeking many goodly pearls. I suppose he may\nstand as a representative of a class of whom I have no doubt there\nare some other representatives hearing me now, namely, persons who,\nwithout yielding themselves to the claims of Christ, have been\nsearching, honestly and earnestly, for 'whatsoever things are lovely\nand of good report.' Dear brethren, if you have been smitten by the\ndesire to live noble lives, if you have been roused\n\n  'To follow knowledge, like a sinking star,\n   Beyond the furthest bounds of human thought,'\n\nor if in any way you are going through the world with your eyes\nlooking for something else than the world's gross good, and are\nseeking for the many pearls, I beseech you to lay this truth to\nheart, that you will never find what you seek, until you understand\nthat the many have not it to give you, and that the One has. And\nwhen Christ draws near to you and says, 'Whatsoever things are\nlovely and of good report, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever\nthings are venerable, if thou seekest them, take Me, and thou wilt\nfind them all,' I beseech you, accept Him. There are two ways of\nfinding the treasure. It is flashed on unexpectant eyes, and it is\ndisclosed to seeking souls.\n\nIII. And now, lastly, let us look at the point where the parables\nconverge.\n\nThere are two ways of finding; there is only one way of getting. The\none man went and sold all that he had and bought the field. Never\nmind about the morality of the transaction: that has nothing to do\nwith our Lord's purpose. Perhaps it was not quite honest of this man\nto bury the treasure again, and then to go and buy the field for\nless than it was worth, but the point is that, however a soul is\nbrought to see that God in Christ is all that he needs, there is\nonly one way of getting Him, and that is, 'sell all that thou hast.'\n\n'Then it is barter, is it? Then it is salvation by works after all?'\nNo! To 'sell all that thou hast' is first, to abandon all hope of\nacquiring the treasure by anything that thou hast. We buy it when we\nacknowledge that we have nothing of our own to buy it with. Buy it\n'without money and without price'; buy it by yielding your hearts;\nbuy it by ceasing to cling to earth and creatures, as if they were\nyour good. That trust in Jesus Christ, which is the condition of\nsalvation is selling 'all that thou hast.' Self is 'all that thou\nhast.' Abandon self and clutch Him, and the treasure is thine. But\nthe initial act of faith has to be carried on through a life of\nself-denial and self-sacrifice, and the subjection of self-will,\nwhich is the hardest of all, and the submission of one's self\naltogether to the kingdom of God and to its King.  If we do thus we\nshall have the treasure, and if we do not thus we shall not.\n\nSurely it is reasonable to fling away paste pearls for real ones.\nSurely it is reasonable to fling away brass counters for gold coins.\nSurely, in all regions of life, we willingly sacrifice the second\nbest in order to get the very best. Surely if the wealth which is in\nGod is more precious than all besides, you have the best of the\nbargain, if you part with the world and yourselves and get Him. And\nif, on the other hand, you stick to the second best and cleave to\nyourselves and to this poor diurnal sphere and what it contains,\nthen I will tell you what your epitaph will be. It is written in one\nof the Psalms, 'He shall leave them in the midst of his days, and at\nhis latter end shall be a fool.'\n\nAnd there is a more foolish fool still--the man who, when he has\nseen the treasure, flings another shovelful of earth upon it, and\ngoes away and does _not_ buy it, nor think anything more about\nit. Dear brother, do not do that, but if, by God's help, any poor\nwords of mine have stirred anything in your hearts of recognition of\nwhat your true wealth is, do not rest until you have done what is\nneedful to possess it, given away yourselves, and in exchange\nreceived Christ, and in Him wealth for evermore.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MARTYRDOM OF JOHN\n\n\n    'At that time Herod the tetrarch heard of the fame of\n    Jesus, 2. And said unto his servants, This is John the\n    Baptist; he is risen from the dead; and therefore\n    mighty works do shew forth themselves in him. 3. For\n    Herod had laid hold on John, and bound him, and put him\n    in prison for Herodias' sake, his brother Philip's wife.\n    4. For John said unto him, It is not lawful for thee to\n    have her. 5. And when he would have put him to death,\n    he feared the multitude, because they counted him as a\n    prophet. 6. But when Herod's birthday was kept, the\n    daughter of Herodias danced before them, and pleased\n    Herod. 7. Whereupon he promised with an oath to give\n    her whatsoever she would ask. 8. And she, being before\n    instructed of her mother, said, Give me here John\n    Baptist's head in a charger. 9. And the king was sorry:\n    nevertheless for the oath's sake, and them which sat\n    with him at meat, he commanded it to be given her.\n    10. And he sent, and beheaded John in the prison.\n    11. And his head was brought in a charger, and given to\n    the damsel: and she brought it to her mother. 12. And\n    his disciples came, and took up the body, and buried it,\n    and went and told Jesus.'--MATT. xiv. 1-12.\n\nThe singular indifference of the Bible to the fate of even its\ngreatest men is exemplified in the fact that the martyrdom of John\nis only told incidentally, in explanation of Herod's alarm. But for\nthat he would apparently have dropped out of the narrative, as a man\nsinks in the sea, without a bubble or a ripple. Christ is the sole\ntheme of the Gospels, and all others are visible only as His light\nfalls on them.\n\nIt took a long time for news of Christ to reach the ears of Herod.\nPeasants hear of Him before princes, whose thick palace walls and\ncrowds of courtiers shut out truth. The first thing to note is the\nalarm of the conscience-stricken king. We learn from the other\nevangelists that there was a difference of opinion among the\nattendants of Herod--not very good judges of a religious teacher--as\nto who this new miracle-working Rabbi might be, but the tetrarch has\nno hesitation. There is no proof that Herod was a Sadducee; but he\nprobably thought as little about a resurrection as if he had been,\nand, in any case, did not expect dead men to be starting up again,\none by one, and mingling with the living. His conscience made a\ncoward of him, and his fear made that terrible which would else have\nbeen thought impossible. In his terror he makes confidants of his\nslaves, overleaping the barriers of position, in his need of some\nears to pour his fears into. He was right in believing that he had\nnot finished with John, and in expecting to meet him again with\nmightier power to accuse and condemn. 'If 'twere done when 'tis\ndone,' says Macbeth; but it is not done. There is a resurrection of\ndeeds as well as of bodies, and all our buried badnesses will front\nus again, shaking their gory locks at us, and saying that we did\nthem.\n\nInstead of following closely the narrative, we may best gather up\nits lessons by considering the actors in the tragedy.\n\nI. We see in Herod the depths of evil possible to a weak character.\nThe singular double which he, Herodias and John present to Ahab,\nJezebel and Elijah, has been often noticed. In both cases a weak\nking is drawn in opposite directions by the stronger-willed\ntemptress at his side, and by the stern ascetic from the desert. How\nJohn had found his way into 'kings' houses' we do not know; but, as\nhe carried thither his undaunted boldness of plain-spoken preaching\nof morality and repentance, it was inevitable that he should soon\nfind his way from the palace to the dungeon. There must have been\nsome intercourse between Herod and him before his imprisonment, or\nhe could not have shaken the king's conscience with his blunt\ndenunciations. From the account in Mark, it would appear that, after\nhis imprisonment, he gained great influence over the tetrarch, and\nled him some steps on the way of goodness. But Herod was 'infirm of\npurpose,' and a beautiful fiend was at his side, and she had an iron\nwill sharpened to an edge by hatred, and knew her own mind, which\nwas murder. Between them, the weaker nature was much perplexed, and\nlike a badly steered boat, yawed in its course, now yielding to the\nimpulse from John, now to that from Herodias. Matthew attributes his\nhesitation as to killing John to his fear of the popular voice,\nwhich, no doubt, also operated. Thus he 'let I dare not wait upon I\nwould,' and had not strength of mind enough to hold to the one and\ndespise the other of his discordant counsellors. He was evidently a\nsensual, luxurious, feeble-willed, easily frightened, superstitious\nand cunning despot; and, as is always the case with such, he was\ndriven farther in evil than he meant or wished. He was entrapped\ninto an oath, and then, instead of saying, 'Promises which should\nnot have been made should not be kept,' he weakly consents, from\nfantastic fear of what his guests will say of him, and unwillingly,\nout of pure imbecility, stains his soul for ever with blood. In this\nwicked world, weak men will always be wicked men; for it is less\ntrouble to consent than to resist, and there are more sirens to\nwhisper 'Come' than prophets to thunder, 'It is not lawful.'\nStrength of will is needful for all noble life.\n\nWe may learn from Herod, also, how far we may go on the road of\nobedience to God's will, and yet leave it at last. What became of\nall his eager listening, of his partial obedience, of his care to\nkeep John safe from Herodias's malice? All vanished like early dew.\nWhat became of his conscience-stricken alarms on hearing of Christ?\nDid they lead to any deep convictions?  They faded away, and left\nhim harder than before. Convictions not followed out ossify the\nheart. If he had sent for Christ, and told Him his fears, all might\nhave been well. But he let them pass, and, so far as we know, they\nnever returned. He did meet Jesus at last, when Pilate sent him the\nPrisoner, as a piece of politeness, and in what mood?--childish\npleasure at the chance of seeing a miracle. How did Jesus answer his\ntorrent of frivolous questions? 'He answered him nothing.' That sad\nsilence speaks Christ's knowledge that now even His words would be\nvain to create one ripple of interest on the Dead Sea of Herod's\nsoul. By frivolity, lust, and neglect he had killed the germ of a\nbetter life, and silence was the kindest answer which perfect love\ncould give him.\n\nHe shows us, too, the intimate connection of all sins. The common\nroot of every sin is selfishness, and the shapes which it takes are\nprotean and interchangeable. Lust dwells hard by hate. Sensual\ncrimes and cruelty are closely akin. The one vice which Herod would\nnot surrender, dragged after it a whole tangle of other sins. No sin\ndwells alone. There is 'none barren among them.' They are\ngregarious, and a solitary sin is more seldom seen than a single\nswallow. Herod is an illustration, too, of a conscience\nfantastically sensitive while it is dead to real crimes. He has no\ntwinges for his sin with Herodias, and no effective ones at killing\nJohn, but he thinks it would be wrong to break his oath. The two\nthings often go together; and many a brigand in Calabria, who would\ncut a throat without hesitation, would not miss mass, or rob without\na little image of the Virgin in his hat. We often make compensation\nfor easy indulgence in great sins by fussy scrupulosity about little\nfaults, and, like Herod, had rather commit murder than not be polite\nto visitors.\n\nII. The next actors in the tragedy are Herodias and her daughter. What\na miserable destiny to be gibbeted for ever by half a dozen sentences!\nOne deed, after which she no doubt 'wiped her mouth, and said, I have\ndone no harm,' has won for the mother an immortality of ignominy. Her\nportrait is drawn in few strokes, but they are enough. In strength of\nwill and unscrupulous carelessness of human life, she is the sister of\nJezebel, and curiously like Shakespeare's awful creation, Lady Macbeth;\nbut she adds a stain of sensuous passion to their vices, which\nheightens the horror. Her first marriage was with her full uncle; and\nher second, if marriage it can be called when her husband and Herod's\nwife were both living, was with her step-uncle, and thus triply\nunlawful. John's remonstrance awoke no sense of shame in her, but only\nmalignant and murderous hate. Once resolved, no failures made her\nswerve from her purpose. Hers was no passing fury, but cold-blooded,\ndeliberate determination. Her iron will and unalterable persistence\nwere accompanied by flexibility of resource. When one weapon failed,\nshe drew another from a full quiver. And the means which were finally\nsuccessful show not only her thorough knowledge of the weak man she\nhad to deal with, but her readiness to stoop to any degradation for\nherself and her child to carry her point. 'A thousand claims to'\nabhorrence 'meet in her, as mother, wife, and queen.' Many a shameless\nwoman would have shrunk from sullying a daughter's childhood, by\nsending her to play the part of a shameless dancing-girl before a\ncrew of half-tipsy revellers, and from teaching her young lips to\nask for murder. But Herodias sticks at nothing, and is as insensible\nto the duty of a mother as to that of a wife. If we put together these\nfeatures in her character, her hot animal passions, her cool inflexible\nrevenge, her cynical disregard of all decency, her deadness to natural\naffection for her child, her ferocity and her cunning, we have a\nhideous picture of corrupted womanhood. We cannot but wonder\nwhether, in after days, remorse ever did its merciful work upon\nHerodias. She urged Herod to his ruin at last by her ambition, which\nsought for him the title of king, and, with one redeeming touch of\nfaithfulness, went with him into dreary exile in Gaul. Perhaps\nthere, among strangers, and surrounded by the wreck of her projects,\nand when the hot fire of passion had died down, she may have\nremembered and repented her crime.\n\nThe criminality of the daughter largely depends upon her age, of\nwhich we have no knowledge. Perhaps she was too mere a child to\nunderstand the degradation of the dance, or the infamy of the\nrequest which her, we hope, innocent and panting lips were tutored\nto prefer. But, more probably, she was old enough to be her mother's\nfellow-conspirator, rather than her tool, and had learned only too\nwell her lessons of impurity and cruelty. What chance had a young\nlife in such a sty of filth? When the mother becomes the devil's\ndeputy, what can the daughter grow up to be, but a worse edition of\nher? This poor girl, so sinning, and so sinned against, followed in\nHerodias's footsteps, and afterwards married, according to the\ncustom of the Herods, her uncle, Philip the tetrarch. She inherited\nand was taught evil; that was her misfortune. She made it her own;\nthat was her crime. As she stands there, shameless and flushed, in\nthat hideous banqueting-hall, with her grim gift dripping red blood\non the golden platter, and wicked triumph gleaming in her dark eyes,\nshe suggests grave questions as to parents' responsibility for\nchildren's sins, and is a living symbol of the degradation of art to\nthe service of vice, and of the power of an evil soul to make\nhideous all the grace of budding womanhood.\n\nIII. There is something dramatically appropriate in the silent death\nin the dungeon of the lonely forerunner.  The faint noise of revelry\nmay have reached his ears, as he brooded there, and wondered if the\ncoming King would never come for his enlargement. Suddenly a gleam\nof light from the opened door enters his cell, and falls on the\nblade of the headsman's sword. Little time can be wasted, for\nHerodias waits. With short preface the blow falls. The King has\ncome, and set His forerunner free, sending him to prepare His way\nbefore Him in the dim regions beyond. A world where Herod sits in\nthe festal chamber, and John lies headless in the dungeon, needs\nsome one to set it right. When the need is sorest, the help is\nnearest. Truth succeeds by the apparent failure of its apostle.\nHerodias may stab the dead tongue, as the legend tells that she did,\nbut it speaks louder after death than ever. Herod kept his birthday\nwith drunken and bloody mirth; but it was a better birthday for his\nvictim.\n\nIV. It needed some courage for John's disciples to come to that\ngloomy, blood-stained fortress, and bear away the headless trunk\nwhich scornful cruelty had flung out to rot unburied. When reverent\nlove and sorrow had finished their task, what was the little flock\nwithout a shepherd to do? The possibility of their continued\nexistence as a company of disciples was at an end. They show by\ntheir action that their master had profited from his last message to\nJesus. At once they turn to Him, and, no doubt, the bulk of them\nwere absorbed in the body of His followers. Sorrowful and bereaved\nsouls betake themselves naturally to His sweet sympathy for\nsoothing, and to His gentle wisdom for direction. The wisest thing\nthat any of us can do is to 'go and tell Jesus' our loneliness, and\nlet it bind us more closely to Him.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GRAVE OF THE DEAD JOHN AND THE GRAVE OF THE LIVING JESUS\n\n\n    'And John's disciples came, and took up the body, and\n    buried it, and went and told Jesus.'--MATT. xiv. 12.\n\n    'And they departed quickly from the sepulchre with fear\n    and great joy.'--MATT. xxviii. 8.\n\nThere is a remarkable parallel and still more remarkable contrast\nbetween these two groups of disciples at the graves of their\nrespective masters. John the Baptist's followers venture into the\nvery jaws of the lion to rescue the headless corpse of their\nmartyred teacher from a prison grave. They bear it away and lay it\nreverently in its unknown sepulchre, and when they have done these\nlast offices of love they feel that all is over. They have no longer\na centre, and they disintegrate. There was nothing to hold them\ntogether any more. The shepherd had been smitten, and the flock were\nscattered. As a 'school' or a distinct community they cease to be,\nand are mostly absorbed into the ranks of Christ's followers. That\nsorrowful little company that turned from John's grave, perhaps\namidst the grim rocks of Moab, perhaps in his native city amongst\nthe hills of Judah, parted then, to meet no more, and to bear away\nonly a common sorrow that time would comfort, and a common memory\nthat time would dim.\n\nThe other group laid their martyred Master in His grave with as\ntender hands and as little hope as did John's disciples. The bond\nthat held them together was gone too, and the disintegrating process\nbegan at once. We see them breaking up into little knots, and soon\nthey, too, will be scattered. The women come to the grave to perform\nthe woman's office of anointing, and they are left to go alone.\nOther slight hints are given which show how much the ties of\ncompanionship had been relaxed, even in a day, and how certainly and\nquickly they would have fallen asunder. But all at once a new\nelement comes in, all is changed. The earliest visitors to the\nsepulchre leave it, not with the lingering sorrow of those who have\nno more that they can do, but with the quick, buoyant step of people\ncharged with great and glad tidings. They come to it wrapped in\ngrief--they leave it with great joy. They come to it, feeling that\nall was over, and that their union with the rest who had loved Him\nwas little more than a remembrance. They go away, feeling that they\nare all bound together more closely than ever.\n\nThe grave of John was the end of a 'school.' The grave of Jesus was\nthe beginning of a Church. Why? The only answer is the message which\nthe women brought back from the empty sepulchre on that Easter day:\n'The Lord is risen.' The whole history of the Christian Church, and\neven its very existence, is unintelligible, except on the\nsupposition of the resurrection. But for that, the fate of John's\ndisciples would have been the fate of Christ's--they would have\nmelted away into the mass of the nation, and at most there would\nhave been one more petty Galilean sect that would have lived on for\na generation and died out when the last of His companions died. So\nfrom these two contrasted groups we may fairly gather some thoughts\nas to the Resurrection of Christ, as attested by the very existence\nof a Christian Church, and as to the joy of that resurrection.\n\nI. Now the first point to be considered is, that the conduct of\nChrist's disciples after His death was exactly the opposite of what\nmight have been expected.\n\nThey held together. The natural thing for them to do would have been\nto disband; for their one bond was gone; and if they had acted\naccording to the ordinary laws of human conduct, they would have\nsaid to themselves, Let us go back to our fishing-boats and our\ntax-gathering, and seek safety in separation, and nurse our sorrow\napart. A few lingering days might have been given to weep together\nat His grave, and to assuage the first bitterness of grief and\ndisappointment; but when these were over, nothing could have\nprevented Christianity and the Church from being buried in the same\nsepulchre as Jesus. As certainly as the stopping up of the fountain\nwould empty the river's bed, so surely would Christ's death have\nscattered His disciples. And that strange fact, that it did not\nscatter them, needs to be looked well into and fairly accounted for\nin some plausible manner. The end of John's school gives a parallel\nwhich brings the singularity of the fact into stronger relief; and\nlooking at these two groups as they stand before us in these two\ntexts, the question is irresistibly suggested, Why did not the one\nfall away into its separate elements, as the other did? The keystone\nof the arch was in both cases withdrawn--why did the one structure\ntopple into ruin while the other stood firm?\n\nNot only did the disciples of Christ keep united, but their\nconceptions of Jesus underwent a remarkable change, after His death.\nWe might have expected, indeed, that, when memory began to work, and\nthe disturbing influence of daily association was withdrawn, the\nsame idealising process would have begun on their image of Him,\nwhich reveals and ennobles the characters of our dear ones who have\ngone away from us. Most men have to die before their true worth is\ndiscerned. But no process of that sort will suffice to account for\nthe change and heightening of the disciples' thoughts about their\ndead Lord. It was not merely that, when they remembered, they said,\nDid not our hearts burn within us by the way while He talked with\nus?--but that His death wrought exactly the opposite effect from\nwhat it might have been expected to do. It ought to have ended their\nhope that He was the Messiah, and we know that within forty-eight\nhours it was beginning to do so, as we learn from the plaintive\nwords of disappointed and fading hope: 'We _trusted_ that it\nhad been He which should have redeemed Israel.' If, so early, the\ncold conviction was stealing over their hearts that their dearest\nexpectation was proved by His death to have been a dream, what could\nhave prevented its entire dominion over them, as the days grew into\nmonths and years? But somehow or other that process was arrested,\nand the opposite one set in. The death that should have shattered\nMessianic dreams confirmed them. The death that should have cast a\ndeeper shadow of incomprehensibleness over His strange and lofty\nclaims poured a new light upon them, which made them all plain and\nclear. The very parts of His teaching which His death would have\nmade those who loved Him wish to forget, became the centre of His\nfollowers' faith. His cross became His throne. Whilst He lived with\nthem they knew not what He said in His deepest words, but, by a\nstrange paradox, His death convinced them that He was the Son of\nGod, and that that which they had seen with their eyes, and their\nhands had handled, was the Eternal Life. The cross alone could never\nhave done that. Something else there must have been, if the men were\nsane, to account for this paradox.\n\nNor is this all. Another equally unlikely sequel of the death of\nJesus is the unmistakable moral transformation effected on the\ndisciples. Timorous and tremulous before, something or other touched\nthem into altogether new boldness and self-possession. Dependent on\nHis presence before, and helpless when He was away from them for an\nhour, they become all at once strong and calm; they stand before the\nfury of a Jewish mob and the threatenings of the Sanhedrim, unmoved\nand victorious. And these brave confessors and saintly heroes are\nthe men who, a few weeks before, had been petulant, self-willed,\njealous, cowardly. What had lifted them suddenly so far above\nthemselves? Their Master's death? That would more naturally have\ntaken any heart or courage out of them, and left them indeed as\nsheep in the midst of wolves. Why, then, do they thus strangely\nblaze up into grandeur and heroism? Can any reasonable account be\ngiven of these paradoxes? Surely it is not too much to ask of people\nwho profess to explain Christianity on naturalistic principles, that\nthey shall make the process clear to us by which, Christ being dead\nand buried, His disciples were kept together, learned to think more\nloftily of Him, and sprang at once to a new grandeur of character.\nWhy did not they do as John's disciples did, and disappear? Why was\nnot the stream lost in the sand, when the head-waters were cut off?\n\nII. Notice then, next, that the disciples' immediate belief in the\nResurrection furnishes a reasonable, and the only reasonable,\nexplanation of the facts.\n\nThere is no better historical evidence of a fact than the existence\nof an institution built upon it, and coeval with it. The Christian\nChurch is such evidence for the fact of the Resurrection; or, to put\nthe conclusion in the most moderate fashion, for the belief in the\nResurrection. For, as we have shown, the natural effect of our\nLord's death would have been to shatter the whole fabric: and if\nthat effect were not produced, the only reasonable account of the\nforce that hindered it is, that His followers believed that He rose\nagain. Since that was their faith, one can understand how they were\nbanded more closely together than ever. One can understand how their\neyes were opened to know Him who was 'declared to be the Son of God\nwith power by the resurrection from the dead.' One can understand\nhow, in the enthusiasm of these new thoughts of their Lord, and in\nthe strength of His victory over death, they put aside their old\nfears and littlenesses and clothed themselves in armour of light.\n'The Lord is risen indeed' was the belief which made the continuous\nexistence of the Church possible. Any other explanation of that\ngreat outstanding fact is lame and hopelessly insufficient.\n\nWe know that that belief was the belief of the early Church. Even if\none waived all reference to the Gospels, we have the means of\ndemonstrating that in Paul's undisputed epistles. Nobody has\nquestioned that he wrote the First Epistle to the Corinthians. The\ndate most generally assumed to that letter brings it within about\nfive-and-twenty years of the crucifixion. In that letter, in\naddition to a multitude of incidental references to the Lord as\nrisen, we have the great passage in the fifteenth chapter, where the\napostle not only declares that the Resurrection was one of the two\nfacts which made his 'gospel,' but solemnly enumerates the witnesses\nof the risen Lord, and alleges that this gospel of the Resurrection\nwas common to him and to all the Church. He tells us of Christ's\nappearance to himself at his conversion, which must have taken place\nwithin six or seven years of the crucifixion, and assures us that at\nthat early period he found the whole Church believing and preaching\nChrist's resurrection. Their belief rested on their alleged\nintercourse with Him a few days after His death, and it is\ninconceivable that within so short a period such a belief should\nhave sprung up and been universally received, if it had not begun\nwhen and as they said that it did.\n\nBut we are not left even to inferences of this kind to show that,\nfrom the beginning, the Church witnessed to the Resurrection of\nJesus. Its own existence is the great witness to its faith. And it\nis important to observe that, even if we had not the documentary\nevidence of the Pauline epistles as the earliest records, of the\nGospels, and of the Acts of the Apostles, we should still have\nsufficient proof that the belief in the Resurrection is as old as\nthe Church. For the continuance of the Church cannot be explained\nwithout it. If that faith had not dawned on their slow, sad hearts\non that Easter morning, a few weeks would have seen them scattered;\nand if once they had been scattered, as they inevitably would have\nbeen, no power could have reunited them, any more than a diamond\nonce shattered can be pieced together again. There would have been\nno motive and no actors to frame a story of resurrection, when once\nthe little company had melted away. The existence of the Church\ndepended on their belief that the Lord was risen. In the nature of\nthe case that belief must have followed immediately on His death.\nIt, and it only, reasonably accounts for the facts. And so, over and\nabove Apostles, and Gospels, and Epistles, the Church is the great\nwitness, by its very being, to its own immediate and continuous\nbelief in the Resurrection of our Lord.\n\nIII. Again, we may remark that such a belief could not have\noriginated or maintained itself unless it had been true.\n\nOur previous remarks have gone no farther than to establish the\nbelief in the Resurrection of Christ, as the basis of primitive\nChristianity. It is vehemently alleged, and we may freely admit that\nthe step is a long one from subjective belief to objective reality.\nBut still it is surely perfectly fair to argue that a given belief\nis of such a nature that it cannot be supposed to rest on anything\nless solid than a fact; and this is eminently the case in regard to\nthe belief in Christ's Resurrection. There have been many attempts\non the part of those who reject that belief to account for its\nexistence, and each of them in succession has 'had its day, and\nceased to be.' Unbelief devours its own children remorselessly, and\nthe succession to the throne of antichristian scepticism is won, as\nin some barbarous tribes, by slaying the reigning sovereign. The\narmies of the aliens turn their weapons against one another, and\neach new assailant of the historical veracity of the Gospels\ncommences operations by showing that all previous assailants have\nbeen wrong, and that none of their explanations will hold water.\n\nFor instance, we hear nothing now of the coarse old explanation that\nthe story of the Resurrection was a lie, and became current through\nthe conscious imposture of the leaders of the Church. And it was\nhigh time that such a solution should be laid aside. Who, with half\nan eye for character, could study the deeds and the writings of the\napostles, and not feel that, whatever else they were, they were\nprofoundly honest, and as convinced as of their own existence, that\nthey had seen Christ 'alive after His passion, by many infallible\nproofs'? If Paul and Peter and John were conspirators in a trick,\nthen their lives and their words were the most astounding anomaly.\nWho, either, that had the faintest perception of the forces that\nsway opinion and frame systems, could believe that the fair fabric\nof Christian morality was built on the sand of a lie, and cemented\nby the slime of deceit bubbling up from the very pit of hell? Do men\ngather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? That insolent\nhypothesis has had its day.\n\nThen when it was discredited, we were told that the mythical\ntendency would explain everything. It showed us how good men could\ntell lies without knowing it, and how the religious value of an\nalleged fact in an alleged historical revelation did not in the\nleast depend on its being a fact. And that great discovery, which\nfirst converted solid historical Christianity into a gaseous\ncondition, and then caught the fumes in some kind of retort, and\nprofessed to hand us them back again improved by the sublimation,\nhas pretty well gone the way of all hypotheses. Myths are not made\nin three days, or in three years, and no more time can be allowed\nfor the formation of the myth of the Resurrection. What was the\nChurch to feed on while the myth was growing? It would have been\nstarved to death long before.\n\nThen, the last new explanation which is gravely put forward, and is\nthe prevailing one now, sustains itself by reference to undeniable\nfacts in the history of religious movements, and of such abnormal\nattitudes of the mind as modern spiritualism. On the strength of\nwhich analogy we are invited to see in the faith of the early\nChristians in the Resurrection of the Lord a gigantic instance of\n'hallucination.' No doubt there have been, and still are,\nextraordinary instances of its power, especially in minds excited by\nreligious ideas. But we have only to consider the details of the\nfacts in hand to feel that they cannot be accounted for on such a\nground. Do hallucinations lay hold on five hundred people at once?\nDoes a hallucination last for a long country walk, and give rise to\nprotracted conversation? Does hallucination explain the story of\nChrist eating and drinking before His disciples? The uncertain\ntwilight of the garden might have begotten such an airy phantom in\nthe brain of a single sobbing woman; but the appearances to be\nexplained are so numerous, so varied in character, embrace so many\ndetails, appeal to so many of the senses--to the ear and hand as\nwell as to the eye--were spread over so long a period, and were\nsimultaneously shared by so large a number, that no theory of such a\nsort can account for them, unless by impugning the veracity of the\nrecords. And then we are back again on the old abandoned ground of\ndeceit and imposture. It sounds plausible to say, Hallucination is a\nproved cause of many a supposed supernatural event--why not of this?\nBut the plausibility of the solution ceases as soon as you try it on\nthe actual facts in their variety and completeness. It has to be\neked out with a length of the fox's skin of deceit before it covers\nthem; and we may confidently assert that such a belief as the belief\nof the early Church in the Resurrection of the Lord was never the\nproduct either of deceit or of illusion, or of any amalgam of the\ntwo.\n\nWhat new solutions the fertility of unbelief may yet bring forth,\nand the credulity of unbelief may yet accept, we know not; but we\nmay firmly hold by the faith which breathed new hope and strange joy\ninto that sad band on the first Easter morning, and rejoice with\nthem in the glad, wonderful fact that He is risen from the dead.\n\nIV. For that message is a message to us as truly as to the heavy-hearted\nunbelieving men that first received it. We may think for a moment of the\njoy with which we ought to return from the empty sepulchre of the risen\nSaviour.\n\nHow little these women knew that, as they went back from the grave\nin the morning twilight, they were the bearers of 'great joy which\nshould be to all people'! To them and to the first hearers of their\nmessage there would be little clear in the rush of glad surprise,\nbeyond the blessed thought, Then He is not gone from us altogether.\nSweet visions of the resumption of happy companionship would fill\ntheir minds, and it would not be until calmer moments that the\nstupendous significance of the fact would reveal itself.\n\nMary's rapturous gesture to clasp Him by the feet, when the\ncertainty that it was in very deed He flooded her soul with dazzling\nlight, reveals her first emotion, which no doubt was also the first\nwith them all, 'Then we shall have Him with us again, and all the\nold joy of companionship will be ours once more.' Nor were they\nwrong in thinking so, however little they as yet understood the\nfuture manner of their fellowship, or anticipated His leaving them\nagain so soon. Nor are we without a share even in that phase of\ntheir joy; for the Resurrection of Jesus Christ gives us a living\nLord for our love, an ever present Companion and Brother for our\nhearts to hold, even if our hands cannot clasp Him by the feet. A\ndead Christ might have been the object of faint historical\nadmiration, and the fair statue might have stood amidst others in\nthe galleries of history; but the risen, living Christ can love and\nbe loved, and we too may be glad with the joy of those who have\nfound a heart to rest their hearts upon, and a companionship that\ncan never fail.\n\nAs the early disciples learned to reflect upon the fact of Christ's\nResurrection, its riches unfolded themselves by degrees, and the\nearliest aspect of its 'power' was the light it shed on His person\nand work. Taught by it, as we have seen, they recognised Him for the\nMessiah whom they had long expected, and for something more--the\nIncarnate Son of God. That phase of their joy belongs to us too. If\nChrist, who made such avowals of His nature as we know that He did,\nand hazarded such assertions of His claims, His personality and His\noffice, as fill the Gospels, were really laid in the grave and saw\ncorruption, then the assertions are disproved, the claims\nunwarranted, the office a figment of His imagination. He may still\nremain a great teacher, with a tremendous deduction to be made from\nthe worth of His teaching, but all that is deepest in His own words\nabout Himself and His relation to men must be sorrowfully put on one\nside. But if He, after such assertions and claims, rose from the\ndead, and rising, dieth no more, then for the last time, and in the\nmightiest tones, the voice that rent the heavens at His baptism and\nHis transfiguration proclaims: 'This is My beloved Son; hear ye\nHim.' Our joy in His Resurrection is the joy of those to whom He is\ntherein declared to be the Son of God, and who see in Christ risen\ntheir accepted Sacrifice, and their ever-living Redeemer.\n\nSuch was the earliest effect of the Resurrection of Jesus, if we\ntrust the records of apostolic preaching. Then by degrees the joyful\nthought took shape in the Church's consciousness that their Shepherd\nhad gone before them into the dark pen where Death pastured his\nflocks, and had taken it for His own, for the quiet resting-place\nwhere He would make them lie down by still waters, and whence He\nwould lead them out to the lofty mountains where His fold should be.\nThe power of Christ's Resurrection as the pattern and pledge of ours\nis the final source of the joy which may fill our hearts as we turn\naway from that empty sepulchre.\n\nThe world has guessed and feared, or guessed and hoped, but always\nguessed and doubted the life beyond. Analogies, poetic adumbrations,\nprobabilities drawn from consciousness and from conscience, from\nintuition and from anticipation, are but poor foundations on which\nto build a solid faith. But to those to whom the Resurrection of\nChrist is a fact their own future life is a fact. Here we have a\nsolid certainty, and here alone. The heart says as we lay our dear\nones in the grave, 'Surely we part not for ever.' The conscience\nsays, as it points us to our own evil deeds, 'After death the\njudgment.' A deep indestructible instinct prophesies in every breast\nof a future. But all is vague and doubtful. The one proof of a life\nbeyond the grave is the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. Therefore let\nus be glad with the gladness of men plucked from a dark abyss of\ndoubt and planted on the rock of solid certainty; and let us rejoice\nwith joy unspeakable, and laden with a prophetic weight of glory, as\nwe ring out the ancient Easter morning's greeting, 'The Lord is\nrisen indeed!'\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOOD OF THE WORLD\n\n\n    'He gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples\n    to the multitude. 20. And they did all eat, and were\n    filled; and they took up of the fragments that remained\n    twelve baskets full.'--MATT. xiv. 19, 20.\n\nThe miracles of Scripture are not merely wonders, but signs. It is\none of their most striking characteristics that they are not, like\nthe pretended portents of false faiths, mere mighty deeds standing\nin no sort of intellectual relation to the message of which they\nclaim to be the attestation, but that they have themselves a\ndoctrinal significance. Our Lord's miracles have been called 'the\ngreat bell before the sermon,' but they are more than that. They are\nthemselves no unimportant part of the sermon. In fact, it would not\nbe difficult to construct from them a revelation of His nature,\nperson, and work, scarcely less full and explicit than that\ncontained in His words, or even than that more systematic and\ndeveloped one which we receive in the writings of His apostles.\n\nThis miracle, for instance, of the feeding of the five thousand with\nfive barley loaves and two small fishes, is one of the few which the\nApostle John relates in his Gospel, and his reason for selecting it\nseems to be the commentary with which our Lord followed it, and\nwhich John alone has preserved. That commentary is all the wonderful\ndiscourse about Christ as the bread of life, and eating His flesh as\nour means of receiving His life into ourselves. We are warranted,\nthen, in regarding this miracle as a symbolic revelation of Christ\nas supplying all the wants of this hungry world. If so, we may\nperhaps venture to take one more step, and regard the manner in\nwhich He dispenses His gifts as also significant. His agents are His\ndisciples, or as would appear probable from the twelve baskets full\nof fragments, the twelve apostles, the nucleus and representatives\nof His Church. Thus we come to the point from which we wish to\nregard this narrative now. There are three stages in the words of\nour text--the distribution, the meal, and the gathering up of the\nabundance that was left. These three stages may guide us to some\nthoughts regarding the work to which Christ calls His Church, the\nsuccess which attends it, and the results to the distributors\nthemselves.\n\nI. Christ feeds the famishing world by means of His Church.\n\n'He gave the loaves to the disciples, and the _disciples_ to\nthe multitude.' One very striking feature in all our Lord's miracles\nis economy of power. The miraculous element being admitted for some\ngood and sufficient reason, it is kept down to the lowest possible\npoint. Precisely so much of it as is needed is permitted, and not\none hairsbreadth more. It does not begin to make its appearance at\nany point in the process where ordinary human agency can be used. It\ndoes not produce a result beyond the actual necessity. It does not\nlast one instant longer than is required. It inosculates closely\nwith the natural order of things.\n\nTake an illustration from the beginning of miracles where Jesus\nmanifested forth His glory, at the marriage in Cana of Galilee--that\ngreat miracle in which our Lord hallowed the ties of human\naffection, and consecrated the joy of united hearts. The necessity\nis felt before He supplies it. The servants fill the waterpots. The\nwater is used as the material on which the miraculous power\noperates. Only so much as is drawn for present use becomes wine. The\nservants are used as the agents for the distribution, and all is\ndone so unostentatiously, though it be the manifesting of His glory,\nthat no man knows but they.\n\nTake another illustration from the other great contrasted miracle at\nthe grave of Lazarus, where our Lord hallowed the breaking of\nearthly bonds by death, and sanctified the sorrows of parted love.\nHe does not work His wonder from the other side Jordan, but comes.\nHe does not avert the death which He will conquer, nor prevent the\ngrief which He shares. He goes to the side of the grave--true human\ntears are wet upon His cheek. They have to roll away the stone.\nThen, there is flung into the darkness of the tomb the mighty word,\n'Lazarus! come forth.' The inconceivable miraculous act is done, and\nlife stirs in the sheeted dead. But there the miraculous ceases. The\nman with his restored life has himself to come out of the grave, and\nhuman hands have tremblingly to lift the napkin from the veiled face\n(how they must have thrilled as they did it, wondering what nameless\nhorror they might see in the eyes that had looked on the inner\nchamber of death), and human help has to unfold the grave-clothes\nfrom the tightly swathed and stumbling limbs, 'Loose him, and let\nhim go.'\n\nThis marked characteristic of all our Lord's miracles is full of\ninstruction, which it would lead us too far from our present purpose to\nindicate at any length. But we may just observe in passing, that it\nbrings these into striking parallel with the divine creative act, where\nthere is ever the same precise adaptation of power employed to result\ncontemplated, the same background of veiled omnipotence, the same\nemergence of proportioned, adequate, but not superfluous force, so\nthat, in fact, economy of power may be said to be the very signature\nand broad arrow of divinity stamped on all His works. Again, it\npresents a broad contrast to the wild, reckless miracle-mongering of\nfalse faiths, and is at once a test of the genuineness of all 'lying\nsigns and wonders,' and an indication of the self-restraint of the\nWorker, and of the fine sanity and truthfulness of the narrators, of\nthese Gospel miracles. And yet, again, it is one phase of the\ndisciplinary character of the whole revelation of God in Christ--not\nobtrusive, though obvious, capable of being overlooked if men will.\nThere was the hiding of His power. 'If any man wills to be ignorant,\nlet him be ignorant.'\n\nBut coming more immediately to the narrative before us, we find this\nsame characteristic in full prominence in it. The people are allowed\nto hunger. The disciples are permitted to feel themselves at their\nwits' end. They are bid to bring their poor resources to Christ. The\nlad who had come with his little store, perhaps a fisherman's boy\nfrom some of the lake villages who hoped to sell his loaves and\nfishes in the crowd, supplies the material on which Christ wills to\nexercise His miraculous power. The disciples' agency is pressed into\nthe service. Each man separately receives his portion, and when all\nare supplied, the fragments are carefully preserved for the use of\nthose who had been fed by miracle, and of Him who had fed them!\n\nBesides the general lessons already referred to, as naturally\narising from this feature of the miracle, there is that one which\nbelongs to it especially, namely, that Christ feeds the famishing\nworld by means of His Church.\n\nPrecisely as in the miracles in general, so in the work of Christ as a\nwhole, the field of supernatural intervention is rigidly confined, and\nfits in with the established order of things. The Incarnation and\nSacrifice of our Lord are the purely supernatural work of the divine\nPower and Mercy. He comes, enters into our human conditions, assumes\nour humanity, dies the death for us all. 'I have trodden the wine-press\nalone.' There is no question of any human agency co-operating there,\nany more than there is in the word 'Lazarus, come forth,' or in the\nmultiplication of the loaves. There, by Christ alone, is brought to\nus and is finished for us an eternal redemption, with which the whole\nrace of man have nothing to do but to receive it, to eat and be filled.\nBut this having been done by the solitary work of Jesus Christ, this\nnew power having been introduced into the world, human agency is\nhenceforth called into operation to diffuse it, just as the servants\nat Cana had to draw the wine which He had made, just as the disciples\nat the Sea of Tiberias have to give to the multitude the bread which\nwas blessed and broken by His hands.\n\nThe supernaturally given Bread of Life is to be carried over the\nworld in accordance with the ordinary laws by which all other truth\nis diffused and all other gifts that belong to one man are held by\nhim in stewardship for all his fellows. True, there is ever in and\nwith that word of life a divine Spirit, which is the real cause of\nits progress, which guards it from destruction though all men were\nfaithless, and keeps it alive though all Israel bowed the knee to\nBaal. But, however easy it may be for us to confuse ourselves with\nmetaphysical puzzles about the relation between the natural and the\nsupernatural elements--the human agency and the divine energiser--in\nthe successful discharge of the Church's work, practically the\nmatter is very plain.\n\nThe truth that it behoves us all to lay to heart is just this--that\nChristian people are Christ's instruments for effecting the\nrealisation of the purposes of His death. Not without them shall He\nsee of the travail of His soul. Not without them shall the preaching\nbe fully known. Not without the people willing in the day of His\npower, and clothed in priestly beauty, shall the Priest King set His\nfeet upon His enemies. Not without the armies of heaven following\nHim, shall the 'Word of God' ride forth to victory. Neither the\ndivine decree, nor the expansive power of the Truth, nor the crowned\nexpectancy of the waiting Lord, nor the mighty working of the\nComforter, are the complete means for the accomplishment of the\ndivine promise that all nations shall be blessed in Him. Could all\nthese be conceived of as existing without the service and energies\nof God's Church proclaiming the name of Christ, they were not\nenough. He has willed that to us, less than the least of all saints,\nshould this grace be given, that we should make known the\nunsearchable riches of Christ. God reveals His truth, that men who\nbelieve it may impart it. God gives the word, that, caught up by\nthose who receive it into an honest and good heart, it may be poured\nforth, in mighty chorus from the lips of the 'great company of them\nthat publish it.' 'He gave the loaves to the disciples, and the\n_disciples_ to the multitude.'\n\nChristian men! learn your high vocation, and your solemn\nresponsibilities. 'What! came the word of God out from you, or came\nit _unto_ you only?' For what did you receive it? For the same\nreason for which you have received everything else which you\npossess--that you might share it with your brethren. How did you\nreceive it? As a gift, unmerited, the result of a miracle of divine\nmercy, that you might feel bound to give as ye have received, and\nspread the free divine gift by cheerful human work of distribution.\nFrom whom did you receive it? From Christ, who in the very act of\ngiving binds you to live for Him and not for yourselves, and to\nmould your lives after the pattern of His. What a multitude of\nmotives converge on the solemn duty of work for Christ, if we read\nin the light of this deeper meaning the simple words of our text,\n'He gave the loaves to the disciples!' What manner of servant is he\nwho can bear to have no part in the blessed work that follows--'and\nthe disciples to the multitude'?\n\nIt is further noticeable how these apostles were prepared for the\nwork which they had to do. The first lesson which they had to learn\nwas the almost ludicrous disproportion between the resources at\ntheir command and the necessities of the crowd. 'How many loaves\nhave ye? go and see.' And this is the first lesson that we have to\nlearn in all our work for Christ and for our brethren, that in\nourselves we have nothing fit for the task before us. Think of what\nthat task is as measured by the necessities and sorrows of men.\nThink of all the sighs that go up at every moment from burdened\nhearts, of the tears that run down so many blanched and anxious\ncheeks. Think of '_all_ the misery that is done under the sun!'\nIf it could be made visible, what a dark pall would swathe the\nworld, an atmosphere of sorrow rolling ever with it through space.\nThe sight is too sad to be seen by any but by Him who cures it all,\nand it wrung from His heart the sigh with which ere He cured one\npoor sufferer--a drop in the ocean--He looked up to heaven, as in\nmute appeal against all these heaped miseries of suffering man.\n\nAnd we, what can we do in ourselves? On what comparison of our\nresources do we not feel utterly inadequate to the work? If we think\nof the proportion in numbers, we have to say, like the narrator of\nthe wars in Israel, 'The children of Israel pitched before them like\ntwo little flocks of kids, but the Syrians filled the country.' If\nwe think of the strength that we ourselves possess and look at our\nown tremulous faith, at our own feeble love, at the uncertain hold\nwhich we ourselves have on the Gospel that we profess, at the mists\nand darkness which cover so much of God's revelation from our own\nunderstandings, at the sins and faults of our own lives, must we not\ncry out, Send whom Thou wilt send, O Lord, but take not me, so\nsinful, so little influenced by Thy grace, to be the messenger of\nThy grace? 'Who is sufficient for these things?'\n\nAnd such contemplations, when they drive home to our hearts the\nwholesome lesson of our own weakness, are the beginning, and the only\npossible beginning, of divine strength. The only temper in which we\ncan serve God and bless man is that of lowliest self-abasement. God\nworks with bruised reeds, and out of them makes polished shafts,\npillars in His house. Only when we are low on our faces before God,\ncrying out,' Unclean, unclean,' does the purifying coal touch our\nlips and the prophet strength flow into our souls.\n\nBe humble and self-distrustful, and then learn the further lesson of\nthis narrative, and carry your poor inadequate resources to Christ.\n'Bring them hither to Me.' In His hands they become sufficient. He\nmultiplies them. He gives wisdom, strength, and all that fits for\nthe task to which He calls us. Bring your little faith to Him and He\nwill increase it. Bring your feeble love to Him, and ask Him to\nkindle it from the pure flame of His own, and He will make your\nheart burn within you. Bring your partial understanding of His will\nand way to Him, and He will be to you wisdom. Bring all the poverty\nof your natures, all the insufficiency of your religious character,\nall the inadequacy of your poor work, to your Lord. Feel it all. Let\nthe conviction of your nothingness sink into your soul. Then wait\nbefore Him in simple faith, in lowly obedience, and power will come\nto you equal to your desire and to your duties, and He will put His\nspirit upon you, and will anoint you to proclaim liberty to the\ncaptives and to give bread to all the hungry. 'Who is sufficient for\nthese things?' must ever precede, and will ever be followed by, 'our\nsufficiency is of God.'\n\nMark again that the disciples seem themselves to have partaken of\nthe bread before they parted it among the multitudes. That is our\ntrue preparation for the work of feeding the hungry. The Church\nwhich feeds the world is able to do so, only because, and in\nproportion as, it has found in Christ its own sustenance and life.\nIt is only they who can say 'we have tasted and felt and handled of\nthe word of life' who can declare it to others. Personal participation\nin the bread of life makes any man able to offer it to some fainting\nspirit. Nothing else makes him able. Ability involves responsibility.\n'Power to its last particle is duty.' You, dear friends, who have\n'tasted that the Lord is gracious,' have thereby come under weighty\nobligations. Your own personal experience of that precious bread has\nfitted you to do something in offering it to others. The manner in\nwhich you do so must be determined by your character and circumstances.\nEvery one has his proper walk; but something you can do. To some lips\nyou can commend the food for all the world. Somewhere your word is\na power. See that you do what you can do. Remember that Christ feeds\nthe world by His Church, and that every man who has himself eaten of\nthe bread of life is thereby consecrated to carry it to those who yet\nare perishing in the far-off hunger-ridden land, and trying to fill\ntheir bellies with the husks that the swine eat.\n\nII. The Bread is enough for all the world.\n\n'They did all eat and were filled.' One can fancy how doubtingly and\ngrudgingly the apostles doled out the supplies at first, and how the\nportion of each was increased, as group after group was provided,\nand no diminution appeared in Christ's full hands, until, at last,\nall the five thousand, of all ages, of both sexes, of every sort,\nwere fed, and the fragments lying uncared for proved how sufficient\nhad been the share of each.\n\nMay we not see in that scene a picture of the full supply for all\nthe wants of the whole world which there is in that Bread of Life\nwhich came down from heaven? The Gospel proclaims a full feast,\nwhich is enough for all mankind, which is intended for all mankind,\nwhich shall one day satisfy all mankind.\n\nThis universal adaptation of the message of the Gospel to the whole\nworld arises from the obvious fact that it addresses itself to\nuniversal wants, to the great rudimentary, universally diffused\ncharacteristics of human nature, and that it provides for all these,\nin the grand simplicity of its good tidings, the one sufficing word.\nIt entangles itself with no local or historical peculiarities of the\ntime and place of its earthly origin, which can hinder it in its\nuniversal diffusion. It commits itself to no transient human\nopinions. It addresses itself to no sectional characteristics of\nclasses of men. It brushes aside all the surface distinctions which\nseparate us from one another, and goes right down to the depths of\nthe central identities in which we are all alike. However we may\ndiffer from one another, in training, in habits, in cast of thought,\nin idiosyncrasies of character, in circumstances, in age--all these\nare but the upper strata which vary locally. Beneath all these there\nlie everywhere the solid foundations of the primeval rocks, and\nbeneath these, again, the glowing central mass, the flaming heart of\nthe world. Christianity sends its shaft right down through all these\nupper and local beds, till it reaches the deepest depths which are\nthe same in every man--the obstinate wilfulness of a nature averse\nfrom God, and the yet deeper-lying longings of a soul that flames\nwith the consciousness of God, and yearns for rest and peace. To the\nsense of sin, to the sense of sorrow, to the conscience never wholly\nstifled, to the desires after good never utterly eradicated and\nnever slaked by aught besides itself, does this mighty word come.\nNot to this or that sort of man, not to men in this or that phase of\nprogress, age of the world, or stage of civilisation, does it\naddress itself, but to the common humanity which belongs to all, to\nthe wants and sorrows and inward consciousness which belong to man\nas man, be he philosopher or fool, king or slave, Eastern or\nWestern, 'pagan suckled in a creed outworn,' or Englishman with the\nnew lights and material science of this twentieth century.\n\nHence its universal adaptation to mankind. It alone of all so-called\nfaiths overleaps all geographical limits and lives in all centuries.\nIt alone wins its trophies and bestows its gifts on all sorts and\nconditions of men. Other plants which the 'Heavenly Father hath not\nplanted' have their zones of vegetation and die outside certain\ndegrees of latitude, but the seed of the kingdom is like corn, an\nexotic nowhere, for wherever man lives it will grow, and yet an\nexotic everywhere, for it came down from heaven. Other food requires\nan educated palate for its appreciation, but any hungry man in any\nland will relish bread. For every soul on earth this living dying\nlove of the Lord Jesus Christ addresses itself to, and satisfies,\nhis deepest wants. It is the bread which gives life to the world.\n\nAnd one of the constituents of that company by the Galilean lake was\nchildren. It is one great glory of Christianity that its merciful\nmysteries can find their way to the hearts of the little children.\nIts mysteries, we say--for the Gospel has its mysteries no less than\nthese old systems of heathenism which fenced round their deepest\ntruths with solemn barriers, only to be passed by the initiated. But\nthe difference lies here--that its mysteries are taught at first to\nthe neophytes, and that the sum of them lies in the words which we\nlearned at our mother's knees so long ago that we have forgotten\nthat they were ever new to us: 'God so loved the world that He gave\nHis only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not\nperish, but should have eternal life.' The little child who has\nlearned his earliest lessons of what father and son, loving and\ngiving, trust and life mean, by the sweet experiences of his own\nfather's home and his own mother's love, can grasp these blessed\nwords. They carry the deepest mysteries which will still gleam\nbefore us unfathomed in all their profundity, unappropriated in all\ntheir blessedness, when millenniums have passed since we stood in\nthe inner shrine of heaven. Wonderful is the word which blesses the\nchild, which transcends the angel before the throne!\n\nThis is the bread for the world--meant for it, and one day to be\npartaken of by it. For these ordered fifties at their Christ-provided\nmeal are for us a prophecy of the day that shall surely dawn, when\nall the hunger of wandering prodigals is over, and the deceived\nheart of the idol-worshipper no longer drawing him aside to feed on\nashes, they shall come from the East and from the West, and from\nthe North and from the South, and sit at the feast which the Lord\nhath prepared for all nations, and when all the earth shall be satisfied\nwith the goodness of His house, even of His holy temple.\n\nIII. The Bread which is given to the famishing is multiplied for the\nfuture of the Distributors.\n\n'They took of the fragments that remained twelve baskets full.' More\nwas gathered than they had possessed at first. They preserved over,\nfor their own sustenance and refreshment in days to come, a far\nlarger store than the five loaves and two small fishes with which\nthey had begun. The fact contains a principle which is true about\nalmost all except material possessions, which is often in God's\nprovidence made true about them, and which is emphatically true\nabout spiritual blessings, about our religious emotions, our\nChristian beliefs, the joys and powers which Christ comes to give.\n\nFor all these, the condition of increase is diffusion. To impart to\nothers is to gain for oneself. Every honest effort to bring some\nother human heart into conscious possession of Christ's love deepens\none's own sense of its preciousness. Every attempt to lead some\nother understanding to the perception of the truth, as it is in\nJesus, helps me to understand it better myself. If you would learn,\nteach. That will clear your mind, will open hidden harmonies, will\nreveal unsuspected deficiencies and contradictions in your own\nconceptions, will help you to feel more the truths that come from\nyour lips. It will perhaps shame your cold appreciation of them,\nwhen you see how others grasp at them from your teaching, or give\nyou more confidence in the Gospel as the power of God unto\nsalvation, when you behold it, even as ministered through you,\nmighty to pull down strongholds. At the lowest, it will keep your\nown mind in healthy contact with what you art but too apt to forget.\nIf you would learn to love Christ more, try to lead some one else to\nlove Him, You will catch new gleams from His gracious heart in the\nvery act of commending Him to others. If you would have your own\nspiritual life strengthened and deepened, remember that not by\nsolitary meditation or raptures of silent communion alone can that\nbe accomplished, but by these and by honest manful work for God in\nthe world. The Mount of Transfiguration must be left, although there\nwere there Moses and Elias, and the cloud of the divine glory and\nthe words of approval from heaven, because there were a demoniac boy\nand his weeping, despairing father needing Christ down below. Work\nfor God if you would live with God. Give the bread to the hungry, if\nyou would have it for the food of your own souls.\n\nThe refusal to engage in such service is one fruitful cause of the\nlow state of spiritual health in which so many Christians pass their\ndays. They seem to think that they receive the bread from heaven\nonly for their own use, and that they have done all that they have\nto do with it, when they eat it themselves. And so come all manner\nof spiritual diseases. A selfish, that is an inactive, religion is\nalways more or less a morbid religion. For health you need exercise.\n'In the sweat of thy brow thou shalt eat bread'; that law expresses\nnot only the fact that work is needed to get it, but that toil must\ngive the appetite and fit the frame to digest it. There is such a\nthing as a morbid Christianity brought on by want of healthy\nexercise.\n\n'There is that scattereth and yet increaseth, and there is that\nwithholdeth more than is meet, and it tendeth to poverty.' Good\nhusbandry does not grind up all the year's wheat for loaves for\none's own eating, but keeps some of it for seed to be scattered in\nthe furrows. And if Christian men will deal with the great love of\nGod, the great work of Christ, the great message of the Gospel, as\nif it were bestowed on them for their own sakes only, they will have\nonly themselves to blame if holy desires die out in their hearts,\nand the consciousness of Christ's love becomes faint, and all the\nblessed words of truth come to sound far off and mythical in their\nears. The standing water gets green scum on it. The close-shut barn\nbreeds weevils and smut. Let the water run. Fling the seed\nbroadcast. 'Thou shalt find it after many days,' bread for thy own\nsoul--even as these ministering apostles were enriched whilst they\ngave, and the full-handed liberality 'with which they carried\nChrist's gifts among the crowd' had something to do in providing the\nlarge residue which filled their stores for days to come.\n\nThus, then, this scene on the sweet springing grass down by the side\nof blue Gennesaret is an emblem of the whole work of the Church in\nthis starving world. The multitudes famish. Tell Christ of their\nwants. Count your own small resources till you have completely\nlearned your poverty, then take them to Jesus. He will accept them,\nand in His hands they will become mighty, being transfigured from\nhuman thoughts and forces into divine words, into spiritual powers.\nOn that bread which He gives, do you yourselves live. Then carry it\nboldly to all the hungry. Rank after rank will eat. All races, all\nages, from grey hairs to babbling childhood, will find there the\nfood of their souls. As you part the blessing, it will grow beneath\nHis eye; and the longer you give, the fuller-handed you will become.\nNor shall the bread fail, nor the word become weak, till all the\nworld has tasted of its  sweetness and been refreshed by its potent\nlife.\n\nThis miracle is the lesson for the workers. There is another\nwondrous meal recorded in Scripture, which is the prophecy for the\nworkers when they rest. The little ship has been tossing all the\nnight on the waters of that Galilean lake. Fruitless has been the\nfishing. The morning breaks cold and grey, and lo! there stands on\nthe shore One who first blesses the toilers' work, and then bids\nthem to His table. There, mysteriously kindled, burns the fire with\nthe welcome meal already laid upon it. They add to it the\ncontribution of their night of toil, and then, hushed and blessed in\nHis still company, they sup with Him and He with them. So when the\nweary work is over for the Church on earth, we shall be aware of His\nmerciful presence on the shore, and, coming at the last safe to\nland, we shall 'rest from our labours,' in that we see the 'fire of\ncoals, and fish laid thereon and bread'; and our 'works shall follow\nus,' in that we are 'bidden to bring of the fish that we have\ncaught.' Then, putting off the wet fisher's coat, and leaving behind\nthe tossing of the unquiet sea and the toil of the weary fishing, we\nshall sit down with Him at that meal spread by His hands, who\nblesseth the works of His servants here below, and giveth to them a\nfull fruition of immortal food at His table at the last.\n\n\n\n\nTHE KING'S HIGHWAY\n\n\n    'And straightway Jesus constrained His disciples to get\n    into a ship, and to go before Him unto the other side,\n    while He sent the multitudes away. 23. And when He had\n    sent the multitudes away, He went up into a mountain\n    apart to pray: and when the evening was come, he was\n    there alone. 24. But the ship was now in the midst of\n    the sea, tossed with waves: for the wind was contrary.\n    25. And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went\n    unto them, walking on the sea. 26. And when the\n    disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were\n    troubled, saying, It is a spirit; and they cried out\n    for fear. 27. But straightway Jesus spake unto them,\n    saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.\n    28. And Peter answered Him and said, Lord, if it be\n    Thou, bid me come unto Thee on the water. 29. And He\n    said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the\n    ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. 30. But\n    when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and\n    beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.\n    31. And immediately Jesus stretched forth His hand, and\n    caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith,\n    wherefore didst thou doubt. 32. And when they were come\n    into the ship, the wind ceased. 33. Then they that were\n    in the ship came and worshipped Him, saying, Of a truth\n    Thou art the Son of God. 34. And when they were gone\n    over, they came into the land of Gennesaret. 35. And\n    when the men of that place had knowledge of Him, they\n    sent out into all that country round about, and brought\n    unto Him all that were diseased; 36. And besought Him\n    that they might only touch the hem of His garment: and\n    as many as touched were made perfectly whole.'\n    --MATT. xiv. 22-36.\n\nThe haste and urgency with which the disciples were sent away,\nagainst their will, after the miracle of feeding the five thousand,\nis explained in John's account. The crowd had been excited to a\ndangerous enthusiasm by a miracle so level to their tastes. A\nprophet who could feed them was something like a prophet. So they\ndetermine to make him a king. Our Lord, fearing the outburst,\nresolves to withdraw into the lonely hills, that the fickle blaze\nmay die down. If the disciples had remained with Him, He could not\nhave so easily stolen away, and they might have caught the popular\nfervour. To divide would distract the crowd, and make it easier for\nHim to disperse them, while many of them, as really happened, would\nbe likely to set off by land for Capernaum, when they saw the boat\nhad gone. The main teaching of this miracle, over and above its\ndemonstration of the Messianic power of our Lord, is symbolical. All\nthe miracles are parables, and this eminently so. Thus regarding it,\nwe have--\n\nI. The struggling toilers and the absent Christ.\n\nThey had a short row of some five or six miles in prospect, when\nthey started in the early evening. An hour or so might have done it,\nbut, for some unknown reason, they lingered. Perhaps instead of\npulling across, they may have kept inshore, by the head of the lake,\nexpecting Jesus to join them at some point. Thus, night finds them\nbut a short way on their voyage. The paschal moon would be shining\ndown on them, and perhaps in their eager talk about the miracle they\nhad just seen, they did not make much speed. A sudden breeze sprang\nup, as is common at nightfall on mountain lakes; and soon a gale,\nagainst which they could make no headway, was blowing in their\nteeth. This lasted for eight or nine hours. Wet and weary, they\ntugged at the oars through the livelong night, the seas breaking\nover them, and the wind howling down the glens.\n\nThey had been caught in a similar storm once before, but then He had\nbeen on board, and it was daylight. Now it was dark, 'and Jesus had\nnot yet come to them,' How they would look back at the dim outline\nof the hills, where they knew He was, and wonder why He had sent them\nout into the tempest alone! Mark tells us that He saw them distressed,\nhours before He came to them, and that makes His desertion the stranger.\nIt is but His method of lovingly training them to do without His\npersonal presence, and a symbol of what is to be the life of His people\ntill the end. He is on the mountain in prayer, and He sees the labouring\nboat and the distressed rowers. The contrast is the same as is given in\nthe last verses of Mark's Gospel, where the serene composure of the\nLord, sitting at the right hand of God, is sharply set over against\nthe wandering, toiling lives of His servants, in their evangelistic\nmission. The commander-in-chief sits apart on the hill, directing the\nfight, and sending regiment after regiment to their deaths. Does that\nmean indifference? So it might seem but for the words which follow,\n'the Lord working with them.' He shares in all the toil; and the lifting\nup of His holy hands sways the current of the fight, and inclines the\nbalance. His love appoints effort and persistent struggle as the law\nof our lives. Nor are we to mourn or wonder; for the purpose of the\nappointment, so far as we are concerned, is to make character, and to\ngive us 'the wrestling thews that throw the world.' Difficulties make\nmen of us. Summer sailors, yachting in smooth water, have neither the\njoy of conflict nor the vigour which it gives. Better the darkness,\nwhen we cannot see our way, and the wind in our faces, if the good of\nthings is to be estimated by their power to 'strengthen us with\nstrength in our soul!'\n\nII. We have the approaching Christ.\n\nNot till the last watch of the night does He come, when they have\nlong struggled, and the boat is out in the very middle of the lake,\nand the storm is fiercest. We may learn from this the delays of His\nlove. Because He loved Mary and Martha and Lazarus, He stayed still,\nin strange inaction, for two days, after their message. Because He\nloved Peter and the praying band, He let him lie in prison till the\nlast hour of the last watch of the last night before his intended\nexecution, and then delivered him with a leisureliness (making him\nput on article after article of dress) which tells of conscious\nomnipotence. Heaven's clock goes at a different rate from our little\ntimepieces. God's day is a thousand years, and the longest tarrying\nis but 'a little while.' When He has come, we find that it is 'right\nearly,' though before He came He seemed to us to delay. He comes\nacross the waves. Their restless and yielding crests are smoothed\nand made solid by the touch of His foot. 'He walketh on the sea as\non a pavement' (Septuagint version of Job ix. 8). It is a revelation\nof divine power. It is one of the very few miracles affecting\nChrist's own person, and may perhaps be regarded as being, like the\nTransfiguration, a casual gleam of latent glory breaking through the\nbody of His humiliation, and so, in some sense, prophetic. But it is\nalso symbolic. He ever uses tumults and unrest as a means of\nadvancing His purposes. The stormy sea is the recognised Old\nTestament emblem of antagonism to the divine rule; and just as He\nwalked on the billows, so does He reach His end by the very\nopposition to it, 'girding Himself' with the wrath of men, and\nmaking it to praise Him. In this sense, too, His 'paths are in the\ngreat waters.' In another aspect, we have here the symbol of\nChrist's using our difficulties and trials as the means of His\nloving approach to us. He comes, giving a deeper and more blessed\nsense of His presence by means of our sorrows, than in calm sunny\nweather. It is generally over a stormy sea that He comes to us, and\ngolden treasures are thrown on our shores after a tempest.\n\nIII. We have the terror and the recognition.\n\nThe disciples were as yet little lifted above their fellows; they\nhad no expectation of His coming, and thought just what any rude\nminds would have thought, that this mysterious Thing stalking\ntowards them across the waters came from the unseen world, and\nprobably that it was the herald of their drowning. Terror froze\ntheir blood, and brought out a shriek (as the word might be\nrendered) which was heard above the dash of waves and the raving\nwind. They had gallantly fought the tempest, but this unmanned them.\nWe too often mistake Christ, when He comes to us. We do not\nrecognise His working in the storm, nor His presence giving power to\nbattle with it. We are so absorbed in the circumstances that we fail\nto see Him through them. Our tears weave a veil which hides Him, or\nthe darkness obscures His face, and we see nothing but the\nthreatening crests of the waves, curling high above our little boat.\nWe mistake our best friend, and we are afraid of Him as we dimly see\nHim; and sometimes we think that the tokens of His presence are only\nphantasms of our own imagination.\n\nThey who were deceived by His appearance knew Him by His voice, as\nMary did at the sepulchre. How blessed must have been the moment\nwhen that astounding certitude thrilled through their souls! That\nlow voice is audible through all the tumult. He speaks to us by His\nword, and by the silent speech in our spirits, which makes us\nconscious that He is there. He does speak to us in the deepest of\nour sorrows, in the darkest of our nights; and when we hear of His\nvoice, and with wonder and joy cry out, 'It is the Lord,' our sorrow\nis soothed, and the darkness is light about us.\n\nThe consciousness of His presence banishes all fear. 'Be not afraid,'\nfollows 'It is I.' It is of no use to preach courage unless we preach\nChrist first. If we have not Him with us, we do well to fear: His\npresence is the only rational foundation for calm fearlessness. Only\nwhen the Lord of Hosts is with us, ought we not to fear, 'though the\nwaters roar ... and be troubled.' 'Through the dear might of Him that\nwalked the waves' can we feeble creatures face all terrors, and feel\nno terror.\n\n\nIV. We have the end of the storm and of the voyage.\n\nThe storm ceases as soon as Jesus is on board. John does not mention\nthe cessation of the tempest, but tells us that they were\nimmediately at the shore. It does not seem necessary to suppose\nanother miracle, but only that the voyage ended very speedily. It is\nnot always true that His presence is the end of dangers and\ndifficulties, but the consciousness of His presence does hush the\nstorm. The worst of trouble is gone when we know that He shares it;\nand though the long swell after the gale may last, it no longer\nthreatens. Nor is it always true that His coming, and our\nconsciousness that He has come, bring a speedy close to toils. We\nhave to labour on, but in how different a mood these men would bend\nto their oars after they had Him on board! With Him beside us toil\nis sweet, burdens are lighter, and the road is shortened. Even with\nHim on board, life is a stormy voyage; but without Him, it ends in\nshipwreck. With Him, it may be long, but it will look all the\nshorter while it lasts, and when we land the rough weather will be\nremembered but as a transient squall. These wearied rowers, who had\ntoiled all night, stepped on shore as the morning broke on the\neastern bank. So we, if we have had Him for our shipmate, shall land\non the eternal shore, and dry our wet garments in the sunshine, and\nall the stormy years that seemed so long shall be remembered but as\na watch in the night.\n\n\n\n\nPETER ON THE WAVES\n\n\n    'And Peter answered Him and said, Lord, if it be Thou,\n    bid me come unto Thee on the water.'--MATT. xiv. 28.\n\nWe owe this account of an episode in the miracle of Christ's walking\non the waters to Matthew alone. Singularly enough there is no\nreference to Peter's venturesomeness and failure in the Gospel which\nis generally believed to have been written under his special\ninspection and suggestion. Mark passes by that part of the narrative\nwithout a word. That may be because Peter was somewhat ashamed of\nit, or it may be from a natural disinclination to make himself\nprominent in the story at all. But, whatever the reason, we may be\nthankful that in this first Gospel we have the story, for it is not\nonly interesting as illustrating the characteristics of the apostle\nin a very picturesque fashion, but also as carrying in it very\nplainly large lessons that are of use for us all.\n\nI. Note, first, Peter's venturesomeness, half faith, and half\npresumption.\n\nThere is a singular mixture of good and bad in it. Looked at one\nway, it seems all right; like a bit of shot silk, in one light it is\nbright, and in another it is black enough. What was good in it?\nWell, there was the man's out-and-out confidence in his Master; and\nthere was, further, the unconsidered, instinctive shoot of love in\nhis heart to the mysterious figure standing there upon the water, so\nthat his desire was to be beside Him. It was far more 'Bid me come\n_to Thee_!' than 'Bid me come to Thee _on the water_.' The\nincident was a kind of rehearsal, with a noticeable difference, and\nyet with nearly parallel circumstances, of the other incident when,\nafter the Resurrection, he discovered the Lord standing on the\nshore, and floundered through the water anyhow; whether on it or in\nit did not matter to him, so long as he could get near his Master.\nBut though the apostle's action was blended with a great deal that\nwas childish and sensuous, and was perhaps quite as much the result\nof mere temperament as of conscious affection, still there was good\nin that eager longing to be beside his Lord, which it would be well\nfor us if we in some measure shared, and in that indifference to the\nperils of the strange path so long as it led to Christ's side,\nwhich, if it were ours, would ennoble our lives, and in that perfect\nconfidence that Christ could enable him to tread the unquiet sea,\nwhich would make us lords of all storms, if it wrought in us.\n\nWhat was bad in it? First, the characteristic pushing of himself to\nthe front, and wish to be singled out from his brethren by some\nspecial token. 'Bid _me_ come.' Why should he be bidden any more\nthan John, who sits quietly and gazes, or the others, who are tugging\nat the oars? Then the impetuous rashness and signal over-estimate of\nhis own capacity and courage were bad. Perhaps, too, there was a\nlittle dash of a boyish kind of wish to do a strange thing, and now\nthat he sees his Master there, walking on the waters, he thinks he\nwould like to try it too. So the request is a rash, self-confident\npushing of himself before his brethren into circumstances of wholly\nunnecessary peril and trial, of which he had not estimated the\nseverity till he felt the water beginning to yield under his feet\nand the wind smiting him on the face. So that the incident is a\nrehearsal and anticipation of the precisely similar thing that he did\nwhen, on the morning of Christ's trial, he shouldered himself\nunnecessarily into the high priest's palace, and got himself close\nup against the fire there, without a moment's reflection on the\npossible danger he was running of having his loyalty melted by a\nfiercer flame, and little dreaming that he was going to fall, and all\nhis courage to ooze out at his finger-ends, before the sharp tongue\nof a maid-servant. In like manner as he says here, 'Bid me come to\nThee,' without the smallest doubt that when he was bade to come he\nwould be able to do it, so he said that night: 'Though all should\nforsake Thee, yet will not I,'--and yet he denied Him.\n\nLet us take the warning from this venturesomeness of a generous,\nimpulsive, enthusiastic religious nature, and remember that the most\ngenuine faith and religious emotion need to be sobered and steadied\nby reflection, and by searching into our own motives, before we\nventure upon the water, howsoever much we may wish to go there. Make\nvery sure that your zeal for the Lord has an element of sober\npermanence in it, and that it is the result, not of a mere\ntransitory feeling, but of a steady, settled purpose. And do not\npush yourself voluntarily into places of peril or of difficulty,\nwhere the fighting is hard and the fire heavy, unless you have\nreasonable grounds for believing that you can stand the strain.\nBring quiet, sober reason into the loftiest and loveliest enthusiasm\nof your faith, and then there will be something in it that will live\nthrough storm, and walk the water with unwetted and unsinking foot.\nAn impure alloy of selfish itching for pre-eminence and distinction\ndoes not seldom mingle with the fine gold of religious enthusiasm\nand desire to serve and be near our Lord. Therefore we have to test\nour motives and seek to refine our purest emotions, and the more\nscrupulously the purer they seem, lest we be yielding to the\nimpulses of self while we fancy that we are being drawn by the\nmagnetism of Christ.\n\nII. We have here the momentary triumph and swift collapse of an\nimpure faith.\n\nOne can fancy with what hushed expectation the other apostles looked at\nPeter as he let himself down over the side of the ship, and his feet\ntouched the surges and did not sink. Christ's grave, single-worded\nanswer 'Come' barely sanctions the apostle's request. It is at most a\npermission, but scarcely a command, and it is permission to try, in\norder that Peter may learn his own weakness. He did walk on the water\nto go to Jesus. What kept him up? Not Christ's hand, nor any power\nbestowed on the apostle, but simply the exercise of Christ's will. But\nif he was held up by the operation of that will, why did he begin to\nsink? The vivid narrative tells us: 'When he saw the wind boisterous,\nhe was afraid.' That was why. It had been blowing every bit as hard\nbefore he stepped out of the ship. The waves were not running any\nhigher after than when he said, 'Bid me come to Thee.' But he was\ndown amongst them, and that makes a wonderful difference. For a\nmoment he stood, and then the peril into which he had so heedlessly\nthrust himself began to tell on him. Presumption subsided swiftly\ninto fright, as it usually does, and fear began to fulfil itself,\nas it usually does. 'He became afraid,' and that made him heavy and\nhe began to sink. Not because the gale was any more violent, not\nbecause the uneven pavement was any more yielding, but because he was\nfrightened, and his faith began to falter at the close sight of the\ndanger.\n\nAnd why did the ebbing away of faith mean the withdrawal of Christ's\nwill to keep him up? Why? Because it could not but be so. There is\nonly one door through which Christ's upholding power gets into a\nman, and that is the door of the man's trust in the power; and if he\nshuts the door, the power stops outside. So Peter went down. The\ntext does not tell us how far down he went. Depend upon it, it was\nfurther than over the shoes! But he went down because he began to\nlose his trust that Christ could hold him up; and when he lost his\ntrust, Christ lost His power over him.\n\nAll this is a parable, carrying very plain and important lessons. We\nare upborne by Christ's power, and that power, working on and in our\nweakness, invests us with prerogatives in some measure like His own.\nIf He can stand quiet on the heaving wave, so can His servant. 'The\nworks that I do shall ye do also'--and 'the depths of the sea\n\"become\" a way for the ransomed to pass over.' That power is\nexercised on condition of our faith. As soon as faith ceases the\ninflux of His grace is stayed. Peter, though probably he was not\nthinking of this incident, has put the whole philosophy of it into\nplain words in his own letter, when he says, 'You who are kept\n_by_ the power of God _through_ faith unto salvation.' He was held up\nas long as he believed. His belief was a hand, and that which it\ngrasped was what held him up, and that was Christ's will and power.\nSo we shall be held up everywhere, and in any storm, as long as, and\nno longer than, we set our confidence upon Him.\n\nOur faith is sure to fail when we turn away our eyes from Christ to\nlook at the tempest and the dangers. If we keep our gaze fixed upon\nHim, the consciousness and the confidence of His all-sustaining\npower will hold us up. If once we turn aside to look at the waves as\nthey heave, and prick our ears to listen to the wind as it whistles,\nthen we shall begin to doubt whether He is able to keep us up.\n'Looking off' from all these dangers 'unto Jesus' is needful if we\nare to run the race set before us.\n\nA man walking along a narrow ledge of some Alpine height has only\none chance of safety, and that is, not to look at his feet or at the\nicy rocks beside him, or at the gulf beneath, into which he will be\ndashed if he gazes down. He must look up and onwards, and then he\nwill walk along a knife-edge, and he shall not fall. So, Peter,\nnever mind the water, never mind the wind; look at Jesus and you\nwill get to Him dry shod. If you turn away your eyes from Him, and\ntake counsel of the difficulties and trials and antagonisms, down\nyou will be sure to go. 'They sank to the bottom like a stone, the\ndepths covered them.' Christ holds us up. He cannot hold us up\nunless we trust Him. Faith and fear contend for supremacy in our\nhearts. If we rightly trust, we shall not be afraid. If we are\nafraid, terror will slay trust. To look away from Christ, and occupy\nour thoughts with dangers and obstacles, is sure to lead to the\ncollapse of faith and the strengthening of terror. To look past and\nabove the billows to Him that stands on them is sure to cast out\nfear and to hearten faith. Peter ignored the danger at the wrong\ntime, before he dropped over the side of the boat, and he was aware\nof it at the wrong time, while he was actually being held up and\ndelivered from it. Rashness ignores peril in the wrong way, and\nthereby ensures its falling on the presumptuous head. Faith ignores\nit in the right way, by letting the eye travel past it, to Christ\nwho shields from it, and thereby faith brings about the security it\nexpects, and annihilates the peril from which it looks away to\nJesus.\n\nIII. We have here the cry of desperate faith and its immediate\nanswer.\n\nThe very thing which had broken Peter's faith mended it again. Fear\nsunk him by making him falter in his confidence; and, as he was\nsinking, the very desperation of his terror drove him back to his\nfaith, and he 'cried' with a shrill, loud voice, heard above the\nroar of the boisterous wind, 'Lord, save me.' So difficulties and\ndangers, when they begin to tell upon us, often send us back to the\ntrust which the anticipation of them had broken; and out of the very\nextremity of fear we sometimes can draw its own antidote. Just as\nwith flint and steel you may strike a spark, so danger, striking\nagainst our heart, brings out the flash that kindles the tinder.\n\nThis brief cry for help singularly blends faith and fear. There is\nfaith in it, else Peter would not have appealed to Christ to save\nhim. There is mortal terror in it, else he would not have felt that\nhe needed to cry. But faith is uppermost now, and the very terror\nfeeds it. So, by swift transition, our fears may pass into their own\nopposite and become courageous trust. Just as in a coal fire the\nthick black smoke sometimes gets alight and passes into ruddy flame,\nso our fears may catch fire and flash up as confidence and prayer.\n\nNote the merciful swiftness of Christ's answer. 'Immediately He\ncaught him,' because another moment would have been too late. There\nwill be time to teach him the lessons of his presumption, but when\nthe water is all but up to the lips that shrieked for help, there is\nbut one thing to do. He must be saved first and talked to afterwards.\nOur cries for deliverance in temporal matters are not always answered\nso quickly, for it is often better for us to be left to struggle with\nthe waves and winds. But our appeals for Christ's helping hand in\nsoul-peril are always answered without delay. No appreciable time is\nconsumed in the passage of the telegram or in flashing back the\nanswer. The apostle was not caught by Christ's hand before he knew\nhis danger, for it was good for him that he should go down some way,\nbut he was caught as soon as he called on the Master, and before he\nhad come to any harm. The trial lasted long enough to wash the\nstiffening of self-confidence out of him, and then it had done its\nwork--and Christ's strong hand held him up.\n\nThe manner of the answer is noteworthy. It is determined by, and\nadapted to, his weak faith. He could not be upheld now as he had\nbeen a moment ago, before his fear had weighted him, by the exercise\nof Christ's will only. Then Christ could hold him up without\ntouching him, but now the palpable grasp of the hand was needed to\nassure the tremulous, doubting heart. So we, too, sometimes need and\nget material and outward signs which make it easier to feel the\nreality of sustaining grace. But whether we do or no, Christ's swift\nhelp always takes the form best suited to our faith, and He has\nregard to the capacity of our clasping hands in the measure and\nmanner of His gifts.\n\nThe time and tone of Christ's gentle remonstrance are remarkable.\nDeliverance comes first, and rebuke afterwards. Having first shown\nhim, by the fact of safety, that his doubts were irrational, Christ\nthen, and not till then, puts His gentle question. Perhaps there was\na smile on His face, as surely there was love in His voice, that\nsoftened the rebuke and went to Peter's heart.\n\nWhat does Christ rebuke him for? Getting out of the boat? No. He\ndoes not blame him for venturing too much, but for trusting too\nlittle. He does not blame him for attempting something beyond his\nstrength, but for not holding fast the beginning of his confidence\nfirm unto the end. And so the lesson for us is, that we cannot\nexpect too much if we expect it perseveringly. We cannot set our\nconceptions of Christ's possible help to us too high if only we keep\nat the height to which we once have set them, and are assured that\nHe will hold us up when we are down amongst the weltering waves, as\nwe fancied ourselves to be when we were sitting in the boat wishing\nto be with Him. That is the question that He will meet us with when\nwe get up on the shore yonder; and we shall not have any more to say\nfor ourselves, in vindication of our tremulous trust, than Peter,\nsilenced for once, had to say on this occasion.\n\nIt will be good for us all if, like this apostle, our trials\nconsolidate our characters, and out of the shifting, fluctuating,\nimpetuous nature that was blown about like sand by every gust of\nemotion there be made, by the pressure of responsibility and trial,\nand experience of our own unreliableness, the 'Rock' of a stable\ncharacter, steadfast and unmovable, with calm resolution and fixed\nfaith, on which the Great Architect can build some portion of His\ngreat temple.\n\n\n\n\nCRUMBS AND THE BREAD\n\n\n    'Then Jesus went thence, and departed into the coasts\n    of Tyre and Sidon. 22. And, behold, a woman of Canaan\n    came out of the same coasts, and cried unto Him,\n    saying, Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou Son of David; my\n    daughter is grievously vexed with a devil. 23. But He\n    answered her not a word. And His disciples came and\n    besought Him, saying, Send her away; for she crieth\n    after us. 24. But He answered and said, I am not sent\n    but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel.\n    25. Then came she and worshipped Him, saying, Lord,\n    help me. 26. But He answered and said, It is not meet\n    to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs.\n    27. And she said, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the\n    crumbs which fall from their masters' table. 28. Then\n    Jesus answered and said unto her, O woman, great is thy\n    faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt. And her\n    daughter was made whole from that very hour. 29. And\n    Jesus departed from thence, and came nigh unto the sea\n    of Galilee; and went up into a mountain, and sat down\n    there. 30. And great multitudes came unto Him, having\n    with them those that were lame, blind, dumb, maimed,\n    and many others, and cast them down at Jesus' feet;\n    and He healed them: 31. Insomuch that the multitude\n    wondered, when they saw the dumb to speak, the maimed\n    to be whole, the lame to walk, and the blind to see:\n    and they glorified the God of Israel.'--MATT. xv. 21-31.\n\nThe King of Israel has passed beyond the bounds of Israel, driven by\nthe hostility of those who should have been His subjects. The\ndelegates of the priestly party from Jerusalem, who had come down to\nsee into this dangerous enthusiasm which was beginning in Galilee,\nhave made Christ's withdrawal expedient, and He goes northward, if\nnot actually into the territory of Tyre and Sidon, at any rate to\nthe border land. The incident of the Syro-Phoenician woman becomes\nmore striking if we suppose that it took place on Gentile ground. At\nall events, after it, we learn from Mark that He made a considerable\ncircuit, first north and then east, and so came round to the eastern\nside of the sea of Galilee, where the last paragraph of this section\nfinds Him. The key to its meaning lies in the contrast between the\nsingle cure of the woman's demoniac daughter, obtained after so long\nimploring, and the spontaneous abundance of the cures wrought when\nJesus again had Jewish sufferers to do with, even though it were on\nthe half-Gentilised eastern shore of the lake. The contrast is an\nillustration of His parable of the crumbs that fell from the table\nand the plentiful feast that was spread upon it for the children.\n\nThe story of the Syro-Phoenician woman naturally falls into four\nparts, each marked by the recurrence of 'He answered.'\n\nI. There is the piteous cry, and the answer of silence. Mark tells\nus that Jesus sought concealment in this journey; but distress has\nquick eyes, and this poor woman found Him. Canaanite as she is, and\nthus a descendant of the ancient race of Israel's enemies, she has\nlearned to call Him the Son of David, owning His kingship, which His\nborn subjects disowned. She beseeches for that which He delights to\ngive, identifying herself with her poor child's suffering, and\nasking as for herself His mercy. As Chrysostom says: 'It was a sight\nto stir pity to behold a woman calling aloud in such distress, and\nthat woman a mother, and pleading for a daughter, and that daughter\nin such evil plight.' In her humility she does not bring her child,\nnor ask Him to go to her. In her agony, she has nothing to say but\nto spread her grief before Him, as thinking that He, of whose pity\nshe has heard, needs but to know in order to alleviate, and requires\nno motives urged to induce Him to help. In her faith, she thinks\nthat His power can heal from afar. What more could He have desired?\nAll the more startling, then, is His demeanour. All the conditions\nwhich He usually required, were present in her; but He, who was wont\nto meet these with swift and joyful over-answers, has no word to say\nto this poor, needy, persevering, humble, and faithful suppliant.\nThe fountain seems frozen, from which such streams of blessing were\nwont to flow. His mercy seems clean gone, and His compassion to have\nfailed. A Christ silent to a sufferer's cry is a paradox which\ncontradicts the whole gospel story, and which, we may be very sure,\nno evangelist would have painted, if he had not been painting from\nthe life.\n\nII. There is the disciples' intercession answered by Christ's\nstatement of the limitations of His mission. Their petition\nevidently meant, 'Dismiss her by granting her request'; they knew in\nwhat fashion He was wont to 'send away' such suppliants. They seem,\nthen, more pitiful than He is. But their thoughts are more for\nthemselves than for her. That 'us' shows the cloven foot. They did\nnot like the noise, and they feared it might defeat His purpose of\nsecrecy; and so, by their phrase, 'Send her away,' they\nunconsciously betray that what they wanted was not granting the\nprayer, but getting rid of the petitioner. Perhaps, too, they mean,\n'Say something to her; either tell her that Thou wilt or that Thou\nwilt not; break Thy silence somehow.' No doubt, it was intensely\ndisagreeable to have a shrieking woman coming after them; and they\nwere only doing as most of us would have done, and as so many of us\ndo, when we give help without one touch of compassion, in order to\nstop some imploring mouth.\n\nTheir apparently compassionate but really selfish intercession was\nput aside by the answer, which explains the paradox of His silence.\nIt puts emphasis on two things: His subordination to the divine will\nof the Father, and the restrictions imposed thereby on the scope of\nHis beneficent working. He was obeying the divine will in confining\nHis ministry to the Jewish people, as we know that He did. Clearly,\nthat restriction was necessary. It was a case of concentration in\norder to diffusion. The fire must be gathered on the hearth, if it\nis afterward to warm the chamber. There must be geographical and\nnational limits to His life; and the Messiah, who comes last in the\nlong series of the kings and prophets, can only be authenticated as\nthe world's Messiah, by being first the fulfiller to the children of\nthe promises made to the fathers. The same necessity, which required\nthat revelation should be made through that nation, required that\nthe climax and fulfiller of all revelation should limit His earthly\nministry to it. This limitation must be regarded as applying only to\nHis own personal ministry. It did not limit His sympathies, nor\ninterfere with His consciousness of being the Saviour and King of\nthe whole world. He had already spoken the parables which claimed it\nall for the area of the development of His kingdom, and in many\nother ways had given utterance to His consciousness of universal\ndominion, and His purpose of universal mercy. But He knew that there\nwas an order of development in the kingdom, and that at its then\nstage the surest way to attain the ultimate universality was rigid\nlimitation of it to the chosen people. This conviction locked His\ngracious lips against even this poor woman's piteous cry. We may\nwell believe that His sympathy outran His commission, and that it\nwould have been hard for so much love to be silent in the presence\nof so much sorrow, if He had not felt the solemn pressure of that\ndivine necessity which ruled all His life. He was bound by His\ninstructions, and therefore He answered her not a word. Individual\nsuffering is no reason for transcending the limits of God-appointed\nfunctions; and he is absolved from the charge of indifference who\nrefrains from giving help, which he can only give by overleaping the\nbounds of his activity, which have been set by the Father.\n\nIII. We have, next, the persistent suppliant answered by a refusal\nwhich sounds harsh and hopeless. Christ's former words were probably\nnot heard by the woman, who seems to have been behind the group. She\nsaw that something was being said to Him, and may have gathered,\nfrom gestures or looks, that His reply was unfavourable. Perhaps\nthere was a short pause in their walk, while they spoke, during\nwhich she came nearer. Now she falls at His feet, and with\n'beautiful shamelessness,' as Chrysostom calls it, repeats her\nprayer, but this time with pathetic brevity, uttering but the one\ncry, 'Lord, help me!' The intenser the feeling, the fewer the words.\nHeart-prayers are short prayers. She does not now invoke Him as the\nSon of David, nor tell her sorrow over again, but flings herself in\ndesperation on His pity, with the artless and unsupported cry, wrung\nfrom her agony, as she sees the hope of help fading away. Like\nJacob, in his mysterious struggle, 'she wept, and made supplication\nunto Him.'\n\nAs it would seem, her distress touched no chord of sympathy; and\nfrom the lips accustomed to drop oil and wine into every wound, came\nwords like swords, cold, unfeeling, keen-edged, fitted and meant to\nlacerate. We shall not understand them, or Him, if we content\nourselves with the explanation which jealousy for His honour as\ncompassionate and tender has led many to adopt, that He meant all\nthe long delay in granting her request, and the words which He\nspoke, only as tests of her faith. His refusal was a real refusal,\nfounded on the divine decree, which He was bound to obey. His words\nto her, harsh as they unquestionably sound, are but another way of\nputting the limitation on which He had just insisted in His answer\nto the disciples. The 'bread' is the blessing which He, as the sent\nof God, brings; the 'children' are the 'lost sheep of the house of\nIsrael'; the 'dogs' are the Gentile world. The meaning of the whole\nis simply the necessary restriction of His personal activity to the\nchosen nation. It is not meant to wound nor to insult, though, no\ndoubt, it is cast in a form which might have been offensive, and\nwould have repelled a less determined or less sorrowful heart. The\nform may be partly explained by the intention of trying her\nearnestness, which, though it is not the sole, or even the\nprincipal, is a subordinate, reason of our Lord's action. But it is\nalso to be considered in the light of the woman's quick-witted\nretort, which drew out of it an inference which we cannot suppose\nthat Christ did not intend. He uses a diminutive for 'dogs,' which\nshows that He is not thinking of the fierce, unclean animals,\nmasterless and starving, that still haunt Eastern cities, and\ndeserve their bad character, but of domestic pets, who live with the\nhousehold, and are near the table. In fact, the woman seized His\nintention much better than later critics who find 'national scorn'\nin the words; and the fair inference from them is just that which\nshe drew, and which constituted the law of the preaching of the\nGospel,--'To the Jew first, and also to the Gentile.'\n\nIV. We have the woman's retort, which wrings hope out of apparent\ndiscouragement, answered by Christ's joyful granting of her request.\nOut of His very words she weaves a plea. 'Yes, Lord; I am one of the\ndogs; then I am not an alien, but belong to the household.' The\nRevised Version does justice to her words by reading 'for even'\ninstead of 'yet,' She does not enter a caveat against the analogy,\nbut accepts it wholly, and only asks Him to carry out His own\nmetaphor. She takes the sword from His hand, or, as Luther says,\n'she catches Him in His own words.' She does not ask a place at the\ntable, nor anything taken from those who have a prior claim to a\nmore abundant share in His mercies. A crumb is enough for her, which\nthey will never miss. In other and colder words, she acquiesces in\nthe divine appointment which limits His mission to Israel; but she\nrecognises that all nations belong to God's household, and that she\nand her countrymen have a real, though for the time inferior,\nposition in it. She pleads that her gain will not be the children's\nloss, nor the answer to her prayers an infraction of the spirit of\nHis mission. Perhaps, too, there may be a reference to the fact of\nHis being there on Gentile soil, in her words, 'Which fall from the\nchildren's table.' She does not want the bread to be thrown from the\ntable to her. She is not asking Him to transfer His ministry to\nGentiles; but here He is. A crumb has fallen, in His brief visit.\nMay she not eat of that? In this answer faith, humility,\nperseverance, swift perception of His meaning, and hallowed\ningenuity and boldness, are equally admirable. By admitting that she\nwas 'a dog,' and pleading her claim on that footing, she shows that\nshe was 'a child.' And therefore, because she has shown herself one\nof the true household, in the fixedness of her faith, in the\nmeekness of her humility, in the persistence of her prayers, Christ\njoyfully recognises that here is a case in which He may pass the\nline of ordinary limitation, and that, in doing so, He does not\nexceed His commission. Such faith is entitled to the fullest share\nof His gift. She takes her place beside the Gentile centurion as the\ntwo recipients of commendation from Him for the greatness of their\nfaith. It had seemed as if He would give nothing; but He ends with\ngiving all, putting the key of the storehouse into her hand, and\nbidding her take, not a crumb, but 'as thou wilt.' Her daughter is\nhealed, by His power working at a distance; but that was not, we may\nbe very sure, the last nor the best of the blessings which she took\nfrom that great treasure of which He made her mistress. Nor can we\ndoubt that He rejoiced at the removal of the barrier which dammed\nback His help, as much as she did at the abundance of the stream\nwhich reached her at last.\n\nV. The final verses of our lesson give us a striking contrast to\nthis story. Jesus is again on the shores of the lake, after a tour\nthrough the Tyrian and Sidonian territory, and then eastwards and\nsouthwards, to its eastern bank. There He, as on several former\noccasions, seeks seclusion and repose in the hills, which is broken\nin upon by the crowds. The old excitement and rush of people begin\nagain. And large numbers of sick, 'lame, blind, dumb, maimed and\nmany others,' are brought. They are cast 'down at His feet' in hot\nhaste, with small ceremony, and, as would appear, with little\npetitioning for His healing power. But the same grace, for which the\nCanaanitish woman had needed to plead so hard, now seems to flow\nalmost unasked. She had, as it were, wrung a drop out; now it gushes\nabundantly. She had not got her 'crumb' without much pleading; these\nget the bread almost without asking. It is this contrast of scant\nand full supplies which the evangelist would have us observe. And he\npoints his meaning plainly enough by that expression, 'they\nglorified the God of Israel,' which seems to be Matthew's own, and\nnot his quotation of what the crowd said. This abundance of miracle\nwitnesses to the pre-eminence of Israel over the Gentile nations,\nand to the special revelation of Himself which God made to them in\nHis Son. The crowd may have found in it only fuel for narrow\nnational pride and contempt; but it was the divine method for the\nfounding of the kingdom none the less; and these two scenes, set\nthus side by side, teach the same truth, that the King of men is\nfirst the King of Israel.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DIVINE CHRIST CONFESSED, THE SUFFERING CHRIST DENIED\n\n\n    'When Jesus came into the coasts of Caesarea Phllippi,\n    He asked His disciples, saying, Whom do men say that I\n    the Son of Man am? 14. And they said, Some say that\n    thou art John the Baptist; some, Elias; and others,\n    Jeremias, or one of the prophets. 15. He saith unto\n    them, But whom say ye that I am? 16. And Simon Peter\n    answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the\n    living God. 17. And Jesus answered and said unto him,\n    Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona: for flesh and blood\n    hath not revealed it unto thee, but My Father which is\n    in heaven. 18. And I say also unto thee, That thou art\n    Peter, and upon this rock I will build My church; and\n    the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. 19. And\n    I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of\n    heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall\n    be hound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on\n    earth shall be loosed in heaven. 20. Then charged He\n    His disciples that they should tell no man that He was\n    Jesus the Christ. 21. From that time forth began Jesus\n    to shew unto His disciples, how that He must go unto\n    Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and\n    chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised\n    again the third day. 22. Then Peter took Him, and began\n    to rebuke Him, saying, Be it far from Thee, Lord: this\n    shall not be unto Thee. 23. But He turned, and said\n    unto Peter, Get thee behind Me, Satan: thou art an\n    offence unto Me: for thou savourest not the things that\n    be of God, but those that be of men. 24. Then said\n    Jesus unto His disciples, If any man will come after\n    Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and\n    follow Me.  25. For whosoever will save his life shall\n    lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for My sake\n    shall find it. 26. For what is a man profited, if he\n    shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or\n    what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? 27. For\n    the Son of Man shall come in the glory of His Father\n    with His angels; and then He shall reward every man\n    according to his works. 28. Verily I say unto you,\n    There be some standing here, which shall not taste of\n    death, till they see the Son of Man coming in His\n    kingdom.'--MATT. xvi. 13-28.\n\nThis section is embarrassing from its fulness of material. We can\nbut lightly touch points on which volumes might be, and indeed have\nbeen, written.\n\nI. The first section (vs. 13-20) gives us Peter's great confession\nin the name of the disciples, and Christ's answer to it. The centre\nof this section is the eager avowal of the impetuous apostle, always\nforemost for good or evil. We note the preparation for it, its\ncontents, and its results. As to the preparation,--our Lord is\nentering on a new era in His work, and desires to bring clearly into\nHis followers' consciousness the sum of His past self-revelation.\nThe excitement, which He had checked after the first miraculous\nfeeding, had died down. The fickle crowd had gone away from Him, and\nthe shadows of the cross were darkening. Amid the seclusion of the\nwoods, fountains, and rocks of Caesarea, far away from distracting\ninfluences, He puts these two momentous questions. Following the\nRevised Version reading, we have a double contrast between the first\nand second. 'Men' answers to 'ye,' and 'the Son of Man' to 'I.' The\nfirst question is as to the partial and conflicting opinions among\nthe multitudes who had heard His name for Himself from His own lips;\nthe second, in its use of the 'I,' hints at the fuller unveiling of\nthe depths of His gracious personality, which the disciples had\nexperienced, and implies, 'Surely you, who have been beside Me, and\nknown Me so closely, have reached a deeper understanding.' It has a\ntone of the same wistfulness and wonder as that other question of\nHis, 'Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known\nMe?' For their sakes, He seeks to draw out their partly unconscious\nfaith, that had been smouldering, fed by their daily experience of\nHis beauty and tenderness. Half-recognised convictions float in many\na heart, which need but a pointed question to crystallise into\nmaster-truths, to which, henceforward, the whole being is subject.\nGreat are the dangers of articulate creeds; but great is the power\nof putting our shadowy beliefs into plain words. 'With the mouth\nconfession is made unto salvation.'\n\nWhy should this great question have been preceded by the other?\nProbably to make the disciples feel more distinctly the chaotic\ncontradictions of the popular judgment, and their own isolation by\ntheir possession of the clearer light. He wishes them to see the\ngulf opening between them and their fellows, and so to bind them\nmore closely to Himself. This is the question the answer to which\nsettles everything for a man. It has an intensely sharp point. We\ncannot take refuge from it in the general opinion. Nor does any\nother man's judgment about Him matter one whit to us. This Christ\nhas a strange power, after nineteen hundred years, of coming to each\nof us, with the same persistent interrogation on His lips. And to-day,\nas then, all depends on the answer which we give. Many answer by\nexalted estimates of Him, like these varying replies which ascribed\nto Him prophetic authority, but they have not understood His own name\nfor Himself, nor drunk in the meaning of His self-revelation, unless\nthey can reply with the full-toned confession of the apostle, which\nsets Him far above and apart from the highest and holiest.\n\nAs to the contents of the confession, it includes both the human and\nthe divine sides of Christ's nature. He is the Messiah, but He is\nmore than what a Jew meant by that name; He is 'the Son of the\nliving God,' by which we cannot indeed suppose that Peter meant all\nthat he afterwards learned it contained, or all that the Church has\nnow been taught of its meaning, but which, nevertheless, is not to\nbe watered down as if it did not declare His unique filial relation\nto the Father, and so His divine nature. Nathanael had burst into\nrapturous adoration of Jesus as 'the Son of God' at the very\nbeginning; and the disciples' glad confidence, which cast out the\nfear of the dim form striding across the sea, had echoed the\nconfession; all had heard His words, 'No man knoweth the Father but\nthe Son.' So we need not hesitate to interpret this confession as in\nessence and germ containing the whole future doctrine of our Lord's\ndivinity. True, the speaker did not know all which lay in His words.\nDo we? Do we not see here an illustration of the method of Christian\nprogress in doctrine, which consists not in the winning of new\ntruths, but in the penetrating further into the meaning of old and\ninitial truths? The conviction which made and makes a Christian, is\nthis of Peter's; and Christian growth is into, not away from, it.\n\nAs to the results, they are set forth in our Lord's answer, which\nbreathes of delight, and we may almost say gratitude. His manhood\nknew the thrill of satisfaction at having some hearts which\nunderstood though partially, and loved even better than they knew.\nThe solemn address to the apostle by his ancestral name, gives\nemphasis to the contrast between his natural weakness and his divine\nillumination and consequent privilege. The name of Peter is not here\nbestowed, but interpreted. Christ does not say 'Thou shalt be,' but\n'Thou art,' and so presupposes the former conferring of the name.\nUnquestionably, the apostle is the rock on which the Church is\nbuilt. The efforts to avoid that conclusion would never have been\nheard of, but for the Roman Catholic controversy; but they are as\nunnecessary as unsuccessful. Is it credible that in the course of an\naddress which is wholly occupied with conferring prerogatives on the\napostle, a clause should come in, which is concerned about an\naltogether different subject from the 'thou' of the preceding and\nthe 'thee' of the following clauses, and which yet should take the\nvery name of the apostle, slightly modified, for that other subject?\nWe do not interpret other books in that fashion. But it was not the\n'flesh and blood' Peter, but Peter as the recipient and faithful\nutterer of the divine inspiration in his confession, who received\nthese privileges. Therefore they are not his exclusive property, but\nbelong to his faith, which grasped and confessed the divine-human\nLord; and wherever that faith is, there are these gifts, which are\nits results. They are the 'natural' consequences of the true faith\nin Christ, in that higher region where the supernatural is the\nnatural. Peter's grasp of Christ's nature wrought upon his\ncharacter, as pressure does upon sand, and solidified his shifting\nimpetuosity into rock-like firmness. So the same faith will tend to\ndo in any man. It made him the chief instrument in the establishment\nof the early Church. On souls steadied and made solid by like faith,\nand only on such, can Christ build His Church. Of course, the\nmetaphor here regards Jesus, not as the foundation, as the Scripture\ngenerally does, but as the founder. The names of the twelve apostles\nof the Lamb are on the foundations of the heavenly city; and, in\nhistorical fact, the name of this apostle is graven on the deepest\nand first laid. In like subordinate sense, all who share that heroic\nfaith and proclaim it are used by the Master-builder in the\nfoundations of His Church; and Peter himself is eager to share his\nname among his brethren, when he says 'Ye also, as living stones.'\n\nBuilt on men who hold by that confession, the Church is immortal;\nand the armies who pour out of the gates of the pale kingdoms of the\nunseen world shall not be able to destroy it. Peter, as confessor of\nhis Lord's human-divine nature, wields the keys of the kingdom of\nheaven, like a steward of a great house; and that too was fulfilled\nin his apostolic activity in his admitting Jews at Pentecost, and\nGentiles in the house of Cornelius. But the same power attends all\nwho share his faith and avowal, for the preaching of that faith is\nthe opening of heaven's door to men. He receives the power of\nbinding and loosing, by which is not meant that of forgiving or\nretaining sins, but that of prohibiting or allowing actions, or, in\nother words, of laying down the law of Christian conduct. This\nmeaning of the metaphors is made certain by the common Jewish use of\nthem. Despotic legislative power is not here committed to the\napostle, but the great principle is taught that the morality of\nChristianity flows directly from its theology, and that whosoever,\nlike Peter, grasps firmly the cardinal truth of Christ's nature, and\nall which flows therefrom, will have his insight so cleared that his\njudgments on what is permitted or forbidden to a Christian man will\ncorrespond with the decisions of heaven, in the measure of his hold\nupon the truth which underlies all religion and all morality,\nnamely, 'Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.' These are\ngifts to Peter indeed, but only as possessor of that faith, and are\nmuch more truly understood as belonging to all who 'possess like\nprecious faith' (as Peter says), than as the prerogative of any\nindividual or class.\n\nII. The second section (vs. 21-23) contains the startling new\nrevelation of the suffering Messiah, and the disciples' repugnance\nto it. The Gospel has two parts: Jesus is the Christ, and the Christ\nmust suffer and enter into His glory. Our Lord has made sure that\nthe disciples have learned the first before He leads to the second.\nThe very conviction of His dignity and divine nature made that\nsecond truth the more bewildering, but still the only road to it was\nthrough the first. Verse 21 covers an indefinite time, during which\nJesus gradually taught His sufferings. Ordinarily we exaggerate the\nsuddenness, and therefore the depth, of Peter's fall, by supposing\nthat it took place immediately after his confession; but the\nnarrative discountenances the idea, and merely says that Jesus then\n'began' His new teaching. There had been veiled hints of it (such as\nJohn ii. 19, and Matt. ix. 15, xii. 40), but henceforward it assumed\nprominence, and was taught without veil. It was no new thought to\nHimself, forced on Him by the growing enmity of the nation. The\ncross always cast its shadow on His path. He was no enthusiast,\nbeginning with the dream of winning a world to His side, and slowly\nand heroically making up His mind to die a martyr, but His purpose\nin being born was to minister and to die, a ransom for the many. We\nhave not here to do with a growing consciousness, but simply with an\nincreasing clearness of utterance. Note the detailed accuracy of His\nprevision, which points to Jerusalem as the scene, and to the rulers\nof the nation as the instruments, and to death as the climax, and to\nresurrection as the issue, of His sufferings; the clear setting\nforth of the divine necessity which, as it ruled all His life, ruled\nhere also, and is expressed in that solemn 'must'; and the perfectly\nwilling acceptance by Him of that necessity, implied in that 'go,'\nand certified by many another word of His. The necessity was no\nexternal compulsion, driving Him to an unwelcome sacrifice, but one\nimposed alike by filial obedience and by brotherly love. He\n_must_ die because He _would_ save.\n\nHow vividly the scene of Peter's rash rejection of the teaching is\ndescribed! The apostle, full of eager love, still, as of old, swift\nto speak, and driven by unexamined impulse, lays his hand on Christ,\nand draws Him a little apart, while he 'begins' to pour out words\nwhich show that he has forgotten his confession. 'Rebuke' must not\nbe softened down into anything less vehement or more respectful. He\nknows better than Jesus what will happen. Perhaps his assurance\n'that this shall never be' means 'We will fight first.' But he is\nnot allowed to finish what he began; for the Master, whom he loved\nunwisely but well, turns His back on him, as in horror, and shows by\nthe terrible severity of His rebuke how deeply moved He is. He\nrepels the hint in almost the same words as He had used to the\ntempter in the wilderness, of whom that Peter, who had so lately\nbeen the recipient and proclaimer of a divine illumination, has\nbecome the mouthpiece. So possible is it to fall from sunny heights\nto doleful depths! So little can any divine inspiration be\npermanent, if the man turn away from it to think man's thoughts, and\nset his affections on the things which men desire! So certainly does\nminding these degrade to becoming an organ of Satan! The words are\nfull of restrained emotion, which reveal how real a temptation Peter\nhad flung in Christ's path. The rock has become a stone of\nstumbling; the man Jesus shrank from the cross with a natural and\ninnocent shrinking, which never made His will tremulous, but was\nnone the less real; and such words from loving lips did affect him.\nLet us note, on the whole, that the complete truth about Jesus\nChrist must include these two parts,--His divine nature and\nMessiahship, and His death on the cross; and that neither alone is\nthe gospel, nor is he a disciple, such as Christ desires, who does\nnot cleave to both with mind and heart.\n\nIII. In verses 24-28, the law, which ruled the Master's life, is\nextended to the servants. They recoiled from the thought of His\nhaving to suffer. They had to learn that they must suffer too if\nthey would be His. First, the condition of discipleship is set\nbefore them as being the fellowship of His suffering. 'If any man\nwill' gives them the option of withdrawal. A new epoch is beginning,\nand they will have to enlist again, and to do so with open eyes. He\nwill have no unwilling soldiers, nor any who have been beguiled into\nthe ranks. No doubt, some went away, and walked no more with Him.\nThe terms of service are clear. Discipleship means imitation, and\nimitation means self-crucifixion. At that time they would only\npartially understand what taking up their cross was, but they would\napprehend that a martyred master must needs have for followers men\nready to be martyrs too. But the requirement goes much deeper than\nthis. There is no discipleship without self-denial, both in the\neasier form of starving passions and desires, and in the harder of\nyielding up the will, and letting His will supplant ours. Only so\ncan we ever come after Him, and of such sacrifice of self the cross\nis the eminent example. We cannot think too much of it as the\ninstrument of our reconciliation and forgiveness, but we may, and\ntoo often do, think too little of it as the pattern of our lives.\nWhen Jesus began to teach His death, He immediately presented it as\nHis servants' example. Let us not forget that fact.\n\nThe ground of the law is next stated in verse 25. The desire to save\nlife is the loss of life in the highest sense. If that desire guide\nus, then farewell to enthusiasm, courage, the martyr spirit, and all\nwhich makes man's life nobler than a beast's. He who is ruled mainly\nby the wish to keep a whole skin, loses the best part of what he is\nso anxious to keep. In a wider application, regard for self as a\nruling motive is destruction, and selfishness is suicide. On the\nother hand, lives hazarded for Christ are therein truly saved, and\nif they be not only hazarded, but actually lost, such loss is gain;\nand the same law, by which the Master 'must' die and rise again,\nwill work in the servant. Verse 26 urges the wisdom of such apparent\nfolly, and enforces the requirement by the plain consideration that\n'life' is worth more than anything beside, and that on the two\ngrounds, that the world itself would be of no use to a dead man, and\nthat, once lost, 'life' cannot be bought back. Therefore the dictate\nof the wisest prudence is that seemingly prodigal flinging away of\nthe lower 'life' which puts us in possession of the higher. Note\nthat the appeal is here made to a reasonable regard to personal\nadvantage, and _that_ in the very act of urging to crucify\nself. So little did Christ think, as some people do, that the desire\nto save one's soul is selfishness.\n\nVerse 27 confirms all the preceding by the solemn announcement of\nthe coming of the Son of Man as Judge. Mark the dignity of the\nwords. He is to come 'in the glory of the Father.' That ineffable\nand inaccessible light which rays forth from the Father enwraps the\nSon. Their glory is one. The waiting angels are 'His.' He renders to\nevery man according to his doing (his actions considered as one\nwhole). Thus He claims for Himself universal sway, and the power of\naccurately determining the whole moral character of every life, as\nwell as that of awarding precisely graduated retribution. They\nsurely shall then find their lives who have followed Him here.\n\nVerse 28 adds, with His solemn 'verily,' a confirmation of this\nannouncement of His coming to judge. The question of what event is\nreferred to may best be answered by noting that it must be one\nsufficiently far off from the moment of speaking to allow of the\ndeath of the greater number of His hearers, and sufficiently near to\nallow of the survival of some; that it must also be an event, after\nwhich these survivors would go the common road into the grave; that\nit is apparently distinguished from His coming 'in the glory of the\nFather,' and yet is of such a nature as to afford convincing proof\nof the establishment of His kingdom on earth, and to be, in some\nsort, a sign of that final act of judgment. All these requirements\n(and they are all the fair inferences from the words) meet only in\nthe destruction of Jerusalem, and of the national life of the chosen\npeople. That was a crash of which we faintly realise the tremendous\nsignificance. It swept away the last remnant of the hope that Israel\nwas to be the kingdom of the Messiah; and from out of the dust and\nchaos of that fall the Christian Church emerged, manifestly destined\nfor world-wide extension. It was a 'great and terrible day of the\nLord,' and, as such, was a precursor and a prophecy of the day of\nthe Lord, when He 'shall come in the glory of the Father,' and\n'render unto every man according to his deeds.'\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST FORESEEING THE CROSS\n\n\n    'From that time forth began Jesus to shew unto His\n    disciples, how that He must go unto Jerusalem, and\n    suffer many things of the elders and chief priests\n    and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the\n    third day.'--MATT. xvi. 21.\n\nThe 'time' referred to in the text was probably a little more than\nsix months before the Crucifixion, when Jesus was just on the point\nof finally leaving Galilee, and travelling towards Jerusalem. It was\nan epoch in His ministry. The hostility of the priestly party in the\ncapital had become more pronounced, and simultaneously the fickle\nenthusiasm of the Galilean crowds, which had been cooled by His\ndiscouragement, had died down into apathy. He and His followers are\nabout to leave familiar scenes and faces, and to plunge into\nperilous and intrude paths. He is resolved that, if they will\n'come after Him,' as He bids them in a subsequent verse, it shall be\nwith their eyes open, and as knowing that to come after Him now\nmeans to cut themselves loose from old moorings, and to put out into\nthe storm. They shall be abundantly certified that their journeying\nto Jerusalem is not a triumphal procession to a crown, but a march\nto a cross.\n\nSo, this new epoch in His life is attended with a new development of\nHis teaching. My text sums up the result of many interviews in\nwhich, by slow degrees, He sought to put the disciples in possession\nof this unwelcome truth. It was prepared for, by the previous\nconversation in which His question elicited from Peter, as the\nmouthpiece of the apostles, the great confession of His Messiahship\nand Divinity. Settled in their belief of these truths, however\nimperfect their intellectual grasp of them, they might perhaps be\nable to receive the mournful mystery of His passion.\n\nI. We have here set forth in the first place our Lord's anticipation\nof the Cross.\n\nMark the tone of the language, the minuteness of the detail, the\nabsolute certainty of the prevision. That is not the language of a\nman who simply is calculating that the course which he is pursuing\nis likely to end in his martyrdom; but the thing lies there before\nHim, a definite, fixed certainty; every detail known, the scene, the\ninstruments, the non-participation of these in the final act of His\ndeath, His resurrection, and its date,--all manifested and mapped\nout in His sight, and all absolutely certain.\n\nNow this was by no means the first time that the certainty of the\nCross was plain to Christ. It was not even the first time that it\nhad been announced in His teaching. Veiled hints; allusions, brief\nbut pregnant, had been scattered through His earlier ministry--such,\nfor instance, as the enigmatical word at its very beginning,\n'Destroy this Temple, and in three days I will raise it up'; or as\nthe profound word to the rabbi that sought Him by night, 'As Moses\nlifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be\nlifted up'; or as the passing hint, dropped to the people, in\nsymbolical language, about the 'sign of the prophet Jonas'; or as\nthe grief foreshadowed dimly to the apostles, of the withdrawal of\nthe Bridegroom, and their 'fasting in those days.' These hints, and\nno doubt others unrecorded, had cropped to the surface before; and\nwhat we have to do with here, is neither the dawning of an\nexpectation in Christ, nor the first utterance of the certainty of\nthe Cross, but simply the beginning of a continuous and\nunenigmatical teaching of it, as an element in His instructions to\nHis disciples.\n\nSo then, we have to recognise the fact that our Lord's prevision of\nthe end--shone, I was going to say, perhaps it might be truer to\nsay, darkened,--all the path along which He had to travel.\n\nI think that people dogmatise a great deal too glibly as to what\nthey know very little about, the interaction of the divine and the\nhuman elements in Christ, and on the one side are far too certain in\ntheir affirmation that His humanity possessed in some reflected\nfashion the divine gift of omniscience; and on the other hand, that\nHis manhood, passing through the process of human development, and\nincreasing in wisdom, was necessarily in its earlier stages void of\nthe consciousness of His Messianic mission. I dare not affirm either\n'yes' or 'no' about that matter; but this I am sure of, that if ever\nthere was a time in the development of the Manhood of Jesus Christ\nwhen He began to know Himself as the Messias, at that same time He\nbegan to be certain of the Cross. For His Messianic work required\nthe Cross, and the divine thing that was in Him was born into the\nworld for a double purpose, to minister and to die.\n\nSo, dear friends, putting aside mere metaphysics, which are\nsuperficial after all, we have to recognise this as the fact, that\nall through His career there arose before our Lord the certainty of\nthat death, and that it did not assume to Him the aspect which such\na prospect might have assumed to others as a possible result of a\nmission that failed, but it assumed to Him the aspect of the certain\nresult of a work that was accomplished. He began His career with no\nillusions, such as other teachers, reformers, philanthropists, men\nthat have moved society, have always begun with. Moses might\n'suppose his brethren would have understood how that God by His hand\nwould deliver them,' but Christ had no such illusion. He knew from\nthe beginning that He came to be rejected and to die. And so He\n'trod life's common way,' with that grim certainty rising ever\nbefore Him. I suppose that He did not, as you and I do, forget the\ndeath that awaits us, and find the non-remembrance of it the\ncondition of much of our energy, but that it was perpetually in His\nsight.\n\nNow I do not think that we sufficiently dwell upon that fact as an\nelement in the human experience of our Lord. What beauty it gives to\nHis gentleness, to the leisureliness of heart with which He was ready\nto make everybody's sorrow His own, and to lay a healing and a loving\nfinger upon every wound! With this certainty before Him, there was\nyet no strain manifest upon His spirit, no self-absorption, no\nshutting Himself out from other people's burdens because He had so\nheavy ones of His own to carry; but He was ready for every joy, ready\nfor all sympathy, ready for every help; and if we cannot say that,\n'in cheerful godliness,' as I think we may, at least we can say that\nwith solemn joy and untroubled readiness, He journeyed towards that\nCross. This Isaac was under no illusions as to who the Lamb for the\noffering was, but knowing it, He patiently carried the wood and\nclimbed the hill, ready for the Father's will.\n\nII. That brings me to notice the second point here, our Lord's\nrecognition of the necessity of His suffering.\n\nMark that He does not say that He _shall_ suffer. Certainty is\nnot all that He proclaims here, however absolute that certainty\nmight be, but it is '_He must_.' He is speaking not only of the\nhistorical fact, but of the need, deep in the nature of things, for\nHis sufferings that were to follow.\n\nAnd though these were wrought out by His own willing submission on\nthe one hand, and by the unfettered play of the evil passions of the\nworst of men on the other, yet over all that apparent chaos of\nunbridled devildom there ruled the unalterable purpose of God; and\nthe 'must' was wrought out through the passions of evil-doers and\nthe voluntary submission of the innocent sufferer; thus setting\nbefore us, in the central fact of the history of humanity, viz. the\nCross and passion of Jesus Christ, the eminent example of that great\nmystery how the absolute freedom of the human will, and the\nresponsibility of the guilt of human wrong-doers, are congruous with\nthe fixed purpose of an all-determining and all-ruling Providence.\n\nBut that is apart from my purpose. Mark then, that our Lord's\nrecognition of this necessity for His suffering is, on the first and\nplainest aspect of it, His recognition that His suffering was\nnecessary on the ground of filial obedience. All through His life we\nhear that 'must' echoing, and His whole spirit bowed to it. As He\nsays Himself, 'The Son can do nothing of Himself.' As was said for\nHim of old: 'Lo, I come. In the volume of the book it is written of\nMe, I delight to do Thy will, and Thy law is within My heart.' So\nthe Father's will is the Son's law; and the Father's 'Thou shalt' is\nanswered by the Son's 'I must.'\n\nBut yet that necessity grounded on filial obedience was no mere\nexternal necessity determined solely by the divine will. God so\nwilled it, because it must be so; that it must be so was not because\nGod so willed it. That is to say, the work to which Christ had set\nHis hand was a work that demanded the Cross, nor could it be\naccomplished without it. For it was the work of redeeming the world,\nand required more than a beautiful life, more than a divine\ngentleness of heart, more than the homely and yet deep wisdom of His\nteachings, it required the sacrifice that He offered on the Cross.\n\nSo, dear friends, Christ's 'must' is but this: 'My work is not\naccomplished except I die.' And remember that the connection between\nour Lord's work and our Lord's death is not that which subsists\nbetween the works and the deaths of great teachers, or heroic\nmartyrs, or philanthropists and benefactors, who will gladly pay the\nprice of life in order to carry out their loving or their wise\ndesigns. It is no mere appendage to His work, nor the price that He\npaid for having done it, but it is His very work in its vital\ncentre.\n\nI pray you to consider if there is any theory of the meaning and power\nof the death of Jesus Christ which adequately explains this 'must,'\nexcept the one that He died a sacrifice for the sins of the world. On\nany other hypothesis, as it seems to me, of what His death meant, it\nis surplusage, over and above His work: not adding much, either to His\nteaching or to the beauty of His example, and having no absolute\nstringent necessity impressed upon it. There is one doctrine--that\nwhen He died He bare the sins of the whole world--which makes His\ndeath a necessity; and I ask you, Is there any other doctrine which\ndoes? Take care of a Christianity which would not be much impoverished\nif the Cross were struck out of it altogether.\n\nThere is a deeper question, on which, as I believe, it does not\nbecome us to enter, and that is, What is the necessity for the\nnecessity? Why must it be that He, who is the Redeemer of the world,\nmust needs be the Sacrifice for the world? We do not know enough\nabout the depths of the divine nature and the divine government to\nspeak very wisely or reverently upon that subject, and I, for one,\nabjure the attempt, which seems to me to be presumptuous--the\nattempt to explain why there was needed a sacrifice for sin in order\nto the forgiveness of sin. If I knew all about God, I could tell\nyou; and nobody, that does not, can. But we can see, as far as\nconcerns us, that, as the history of all religions tells us, for the\nforgiveness and acceptance of sinful men a pure sacrifice is needed;\nand that for teaching us the love of God, the hideousness and wages\nof sin, for our emancipation from evil, for the quieting of our\nconsciences, for a foothold for faith, for an adequate motive of\nself-surrender and obedience, his sacrificial death is needful. The\nlife and death of Jesus Christ, regarded as God's sacrifice for the\nworld's sin, _does_ all this. The life and death of Jesus\nChrist, regarded in any other aspect, does not do this. Historically\nspeaking, mutilated forms of Christianity, which have not known what\nto do with the Cross of Christ, have lost their constraining,\npurifying, and aggressive power. For us sinful men, if we are to be\ndelivered from evil and become sons of God, He _must_ suffer\nmany things, and be killed, and rise again the third day.\n\nIII. Now note further, how we have here also our Lord's willing\nacceptance of the necessity.\n\nIt is one thing to recognise, and another thing to accept, a needs-be.\nThis 'must' was no unwelcome obligation laid upon Him against His will,\nbut one to which His whole nature responded and which He accepted. No\ndoubt there was in Him the innocent instinctive physical shrinking\nfrom death. No doubt the Cross, in so far, was pain and suffering. No\ndoubt we are to trace the reality of a temptation in Peter's rash words\nwhich follow, as indicated to us by the severity and almost vehemence\nof the action with which Christ puts it away. No doubt there is a\nprofound meaning in that answer of His, 'Thou art a _stumbling-block_\nto Me.' The 'Rock' is turned into a stone of stumbling, and Peter's\nsuggestion appeals to something in Him which responded to it.\n\nThat shrinking might be a shrinking of nature, but it was not a\nrecoil of will. The ship may toss in dreadful billows, but the\nneedle points to the pole. The train may rock upon the line, but it\nnever leaves the rails. Christ felt that the Cross was an evil, but\nthat feeling never made Him falter in His determination to bear it.\nHis willing acceptance of the necessity was owing to His full\nresolve to save the world. He must die because He would redeem, and\nHe would redeem because He could not but love. 'He saved others,'\nand therefore 'Himself He cannot save.' So the 'must' was not an\niron chain that fastened Him to His Cross. Like some of the heroic\nmartyrs of old, who refused to be bound to the funeral pile, He\nstood there chained to it by nothing but His own will and loving\npurpose to save the world.\n\nAnd, brethren, in that loving purpose, each of us may be sure that\nwe had an individual and a personal share. Whatever the interaction\nbetween the divinity and the humanity, this at all events is\ncertain, that every soul of man has his distinct and definite place\nin Christ's knowledge and in Christ's love. Each of us all may be\nsure that one strand of the cords of love which fastened Him to the\nCross was His love for me; and each of us may say--He must die,\nbecause 'He loved me, and gave Himself for me.'\n\nIV. Lastly, notice here our Lord's teaching the necessity of His\ndeath.\n\nThis announcement was preceded, as I remarked, by that conversation\nwhich led to the crystallising of the half-formed convictions of the\napostles in a definite creed, 'Thou art the Christ, the Son of the\nliving God.' But that was not all that they needed to know and\nbelieve and trust to. That was the first volume of their lesson-book.\nThe second volume was this, that 'Christ must suffer.' And so let us\nlearn the central place which the Cross holds in Christ's teaching.\nThey tell us that the doctrine of Christ as the Sacrifice for the\nworld is not in the Gospels. Where are the eyes that read the Gospels\nand do not see it? The theory of it is not there; the announcements\nof it are. And in this latest section of our Lord's ministry, they\nare fuller and more frequent than in the earlier, for the plain\nreason which is implied by the preparation through which He passed\nthese disciples, ere He ventured to communicate the mournful and the\nbewildering fact. There must be, first, the grasp of His Messiahship,\nand some recognition that He is the Son of God, ere it is possible\nto go on to speak of the Cross, the full message concerning which\ncould not be spoken until after the Resurrection and the Ascension.\n\nBut note, you do not understand Christ's Cross unless you bring to\nit the faith in Christ's Messiahship and the belief in some measure\nthat He is the Son of God. Neither the pathos nor the power of His\ndeath is intelligible if it be simply like other deaths--the dying\nof a man who is born subject to the law of mortality, and who yields\nto it by natural process. Unless you and I take upon our lips,\nthough with far deeper meaning, the words with which the heathen\ncenturion gazed upon the dying Christ, and say, 'Truly this was the\nSon of God!' His Cross is common and trivial and insignificant; but\nif we can thus speak, then it stands before us as the crown of all\nGod's manifestations in the world,' the wisdom of God and the power\nof God.'\n\nAnd then note, still further, how, without the Cross, these other\ntruths are not the whole gospel. There were disciples then, as there\nhave been disciples since, and as there are to-day, who were willing\nto accept, 'Thou art the Christ'; and willing in some sense to say\n'Thou art the Son of God,' but stumbled when He said, 'The Son of\nMan must suffer.' Brethren, I venture to urge that the gospel of the\nIncarnation, precious as it is, is not the whole gospel, and that\nthe full-orbed truth about Jesus Christ is that He is the Christ,\nand that He died for our sins, and rose again to live for ever, our\nPriest and King.\n\nWe need a whole Christ. For our soul's salvation, for the quieting\nof our consciences, the forgiveness of our sins, for new life, for\npeace, purity, obedience, love, joy, hope, our faith must grasp\n'Christ, and Him crucified.' A half Christ is no Christ, and unless\nwe have as sinful men laid hold of the one Sacrifice for sins for\never, which He offered, we do not understand even the preciousness\nof the half Christ whom we perceive, nor know the full beauty of His\nexample, the depth of His teaching, nor the tenderness of His heart.\n\nI beseech you, ask yourselves, _What_ Christ can do for me the\nthings which I need to have done, except 'the Christ that died, yea,\nrather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God,\nwho also maketh intercession for us'?\n\n\n\n\nTHE KING IN HIS BEAUTY\n\n\n    'And after six days Jesus taketh Peter, James, and John\n    his brother, and bringeth them up into an high mountain\n    apart, 2. And was transfigured before them: and His\n    face did shine as the sun, and His raiment was white as\n    the light. 3. And, behold, there appeared unto them\n    Moses and Elias talking with Him. 4. Then answered\n    Peter, and said unto Jesus. Lord, it is good for us\n    to be here: if Thou wilt, let us make here three\n    tabernacles; one for Thee, and one for Moses, and one\n    for Elias. 5. While he yet spake, behold, a bright\n    cloud overshadowed them: and behold a voice out of the\n    cloud, which said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am\n    well pleased; hear ye Him. 6. And when the disciples\n    heard it, they fell on their face, and were sore afraid.\n    7. And Jesus came and touched them, and said, Arise,\n    and be not afraid. 8. And when they had lifted up their\n    eyes, they saw no man, save Jesus only. 9. And as they\n    came down from the mountain, Jesus charged them, saying,\n    Tell the vision to no man, until the Son of Man be risen\n    again from the dead. 10. And His disciples asked Him,\n    saying, Why then say the scribes that Elias must first\n    come? 11. And Jesus answered and said unto them, Elias\n    truly shall first come, and restore all things. 12. But\n    I say unto you, That Elias is come already, and they\n    knew him not, but have done unto him whatsoever they\n    listed. Likewise shall also the Son of Man suffer of\n    them. 13. Then the disciples understood that He spake\n    unto them of John the Baptist.'--MATT. xvii. 1-13.\n\nThe early guess at Tabor as the scene of the Transfiguration must be\ngiven up as untenable. Some one of the many peaks of Hermon rising\nright over Caesarea is a far more likely place. But the silence of\nall the accounts as to the locality surely teaches us the\nunimportance of knowledge on the point. The dangers of knowing would\nmore than outweigh the advantages. A similar indefiniteness attaches\nto the _when_. Are we to think of it as occurring by night, or\nby day? Perhaps the former is slightly the more probable, from the\nfact of the descent being made 'the next day' (Luke). Our conception\nof the scene will be very different, as we think of that lustre from\nHis face, and that bright cloud, as outshining the blaze of a Syrian\nsun, or as filling the night with glory. But we cannot settle which\nview is correct.\n\nThere are three distinct parts in the whole incident: the\nTransfiguration proper; the appearance of Moses and Elijah; and the\ncloud with the voice from it.\n\nI. The Transfiguration proper.\n\nThe general statement that Jesus 'was transfigured before them' is\nimmediately followed out into explanatory details. These are\ntwofold--the radiance of His face, and the gleaming whiteness of His\nraiment, which shone like the snow on Hermon when it is smitten by\nthe sunshine. Probably we are to think of the whole body as giving\nforth the same mysterious light, which made itself visible even\nthrough the white robe He wore. This would give beautiful accuracy and\nappropriateness to the distinction drawn in the two metaphors,--that\nHis face was 'as the sun,' in which the undiluted glory was seen; and\nHis garments 'as the light,' which is sunshine diffused and weakened.\nThere is no hint of any external source of the brightness. It does not\nseem to have been a reflection from the visible symbol of the divine\npresence, as was the fading radiance on the face of Moses. That symbol\ndoes not come into view till the last stage of the incident. We are\nthen to think of the brightness as rising from within, not cast from\nwithout. We cannot tell whether it was voluntary or involuntary. Luke\ngives a pregnant hint, in connecting it with Christ's praying, as if\nthe calm ecstasy of communion with the Father brought to the surface\nthe hidden glory of the Son. Can it be that such glory always\naccompanied His prayers, and that its presence may have been one\nreason for the sedulous privacy of these, except on this one occasion,\nwhen He desired that His faithful three should be 'eye-witnesses of\nHis majesty'? However that may be, we have probably to regard the\nTransfiguration as the transient making visible, in the natural,\nsymbolic form of light, of the indwelling divine glory, which dwelt\nin Him as in a shrine, and then shone through the veil of His flesh.\nJohn explains the event, though His words go far beyond it, when he\nsays, 'We beheld His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the\nFather.'\n\nWhat was the purpose of the Transfiguration? Matthew seems to tell\nus in that 'before them.' It was for their sakes, not for His, as\nindeed follows from the belief that it was the irradiation from\nwithin of the indwelling light. The new epoch of His life, in which\nthey were to have a share of trial and cross-bearing, needed some\ngreat encouragement poured into their tremulous hearts; and so, for\nonce, He deigned to let them look on His face shining as the sun,\nfor a remembrance when they saw it covered with 'shame and spitting'\nand His brow bleeding from the thorns. But perhaps we may venture a\nstep farther, and see here some prophecy of that body of His glory\nin which He now reigns. Speculations as to the difference between\nthe earthly body of our Lord and ours are fascinating but\nunsubstantial. It was a true human body, susceptible of hunger,\npain, weariness; but we are not taught that it carried in it the\nnecessity of death. It may have been more pliable to the spirit's\nbehests, and more transparent to its light, than ours. There may\nhave been in that hour of radiance some approximation to the perfect\nharmony between the perfect spirit and the body, which is its fit\norgan, which we know is His now, and to which we also know that He\nwill conform the body of our humiliation. Then His face 'shone as\nthe sun'; when one of these three saw Him in His glory, 'His\ncountenance was as the sun shineth in his strength'; and His own\npromise to us is that we too 'shall shine forth as the sun.' Then\nHis garments were white as the light; His promise is that they who\nare worthy shall 'walk with Him in white.' The Transfiguration was a\nrevelation and a prophecy.\n\nII. The appearance of Moses and Elijah.\n\nWhile the three are gazing with dazzled eyes, suddenly, as if shaped\nout of air, there stand by Jesus two mighty forms, evidently men,\nand yet, according to Luke, encompassed in the white radiance,\nwalking with the Son of Man in a better furnace. What a stound of\nawe and wonder must have touched the gazers as the conviction who\nthese were filled their minds, and they recognised, we know not how,\nthe mighty lineaments of the lawgiver and the prophet! Did the three\nmortals understand the meaning of the words of the heavenly three?\nWe cannot tell. Nor does Matthew tell us what was the theme of that\nwondrous colloquy. These two might have asked, 'Why hast Thou\ndisquieted us to bring us up?' What is the answer? Wherefore were\nthey there? To tell Jesus that He was to die? No, for that lay plain\nbefore Him. To learn from Him the mystery of His passion, that they\nmight be His heralds, the one in Paradise, the other in the pale\nkingdoms of Hades? Perhaps, but, more probably, they came to\nminister to Him strength for His conflict, even as women did of\ntheir substance, and an angel did in Gethsemane. Perhaps the\nstrength came to Jesus from seeing how they yearned for the\nfulfilment of the typified redemption; perhaps it came from His\nbeing able to speak to them as He could not to any on earth. At all\nevents, surely Moses and Elijah were not brought there for their own\nsakes alone, nor for the sake of the witnesses, but also for His\nsake who was prepared by that converse for His cross.\n\nFurther, their appearance set forth Christ's death, which was their\ntheme, as the climax of revelation. The Law with its requirement and\nits sacrifices, and Prophecy with its forward-looking gaze, stand\nthere, in their representatives, and bear witness that their\nconverging lines meet in Jesus. The finger that wrote the law, and\nthe finger that smote and parted Jordan, are each lifted to point to\nHim. The stern voices that spoke the commandments and that hurled\nthreatenings at the unworthy occupants of David's throne, both\nproclaim, 'Behold the Lamb of God, the perfect Fulfiller of law, the\ntrue King of Israel.' Their presence and their speech were the\nacknowledgment that this was He whom they had seen from afar; their\ndisappearance proclaims that their work is done when they have\npointed to Him.\n\nTheir presence also teaches us that Jesus is the life of all the\nliving dead. Of course, care must be exercised in drawing dogmatic\nconclusions from a manifestly abnormal incident, but some plain\ntruths do result from it. Of these two, one had died, though mystery\nhung round his death and burial; the other had passed into the\nheavens by another gate than that of death; and here they both stand\nwith lives undiminished by their mysterious changes, in fulness of\npower and of consciousness, bathed in glory, which was as their\nnative air now. They are witnesses of an immortal life, and proofs\nthat His yet unpierced hands held the keys of life and death. He\nopened the gate which moves backwards to no hand but His, and\nsummoned them; and they come, with no napkins about their heads, and\nno trailing grave-clothes entangling their feet, and own Him as the\nKing of life.\n\nThey speak too of the eager onward gaze which the Old Testament\nbelievers turned to the coming Deliverer. In silent anticipation,\nthrough all these centuries, good men had lain down to die, saying,\n'I wait for Thy salvation,' and after death their spirits had lived\nexpectant and crying, like the souls under the altar, 'How long, O\nLord, how long?' Now these two are brought from their hopeful\nrepose, perchance to learn how near their deliverance was; and\nbehind them we seem to discern a dim crowd of holy men and women,\nwho had died in faith, not having received the promises, and who\nthrong the portals of the unseen world, waiting for the near advent\nof the better Samson to bear away the gates to the city on the hill,\nand lead thither their ransomed train.\n\nPeter's bewildered words need not long detain us. He is half dazed,\nbut, true to his rash nature, thinks that he must say something, and\nthat to do something will relieve the tension of his spirit. His\nproposal, so ridiculous as it is, shows that he had not really\nunderstood what he saw. It also expresses his feeling that it is\nmuch better to be there than to be travelling to a cross--and so may\nstand as an instance of a very real temptation for us all, that of\navoiding unwelcome duties and shrinking from rough work, on the plea\nof holding sweet communion with Jesus on the mountain. It was\n_not_ 'good' to stay there, and leave demoniacs uncured in the\nplain.\n\nIII. The cloud and the witnessing voice.\n\nPeter's words receive no answer, for, while he is speaking, another\nsolemn and silencing wonder has place. Suddenly a strange cloud\nforms in the cloudless sky. It is 'bright' with no reflection caught\nfrom the sun; it is borne along by no wind; slowly it settles down\nupon them, like a roof, and, bright though it is, casts a strange\nshadow. According to one reading of Luke's account, Christ and the\ntwo heavenly witnesses pass within its folds, leaving the disciples\nwithout, and that separation seems confirmed by Matthew's saying\nthat the voice 'came out of the cloud.' Our evangelist points to its\nbrightness as singular. It was not merely bright, as if smitten by\nthe sunlight, but its whole substance was luminous. It is almost a\ncontradiction to speak of a cloud of light, and the anomalous\nexpression points to something beyond nature. We cannot but remember\nthe pillar which had a heart of fire, and glowed in the darkness\nover the sleeping camp, and the cloud which filled the house, and\ndrove the priests from the sanctuary by its brightness. Nor should\nwe forget that at His Ascension Jesus was not lost to sight in the\nblue; but while He was yet visible in the act of blessing, 'a cloud\nreceived Him out of their sight.' It is, in fact, the familiar\nsymbol of the divine presence, which had long been absent from the\ntemple, and now reappears. We may note the beauty and felicity of\nthe emblem. It blends light and darkness, so suggesting how the very\nsame 'attributes' of God are both; and how His revelation of Himself\nreveals Him as unrevealable. The manifestation of His power is also\nthe 'hiding of His power.' The inaccessible light is also thick\ndarkness. The same characteristics of His nature are light and joy\nto some, and blackness and woe to others.\n\nWe may note, too, Christ's passage into the cloud. Moses and Elijah,\nbeing purged from mortal weakness, could pass thither. But Jesus,\nalone of men, could pass in the flesh into that brightness, and be\nhid in its fiery heart, unshrinking and unconsumed. 'Who among us\nshall dwell with everlasting burnings? His entrance into it is but\nthe witness to the purity of His nature, and the absence in Him of\nall fuel for fire. That bright cloud was 'His own calm home, His\nhabitation from eternity,' and where no man, compassed with flesh\nand sin, could live, He enters as the Son into the bosom of the\nFather.\n\nThen comes the articulate witness to the Son. The solemnity and\nforce of the attestation are increased, if we conceive of the\ndisciples as outside the cloud, and parted from Jesus. This word is\nmeant for them only, and so is distinguished from the similar voice\nat the baptism, and has added the imperative 'Hear him.' The voice\nbears witness to the mystery of our Lord's person. It points to the\ncontrast between His two attendants and Him. They are servants,\n'this is the Son.' It sets forth His supernaturally born humanity,\nand, deeper still, His true and proper divinity, which John unfolds,\nin his Gospel, as the deepest meaning of the name. It testifies to\nthe unbroken union of love between the Father and Him, and therein\nto the absolute perfection of our Lord's character. He is the\nadequate object of the eternal, divine love. As He has been from the\ntimeless depths of old, He is, in His human life, the object of the\never-unruffled divine complacency, in whom the Father can glass\nHimself as in a pure mirror. It enjoins obedient listening. God's\nvoice bids us hear Christ's voice. If He is the beloved Son,\nlistening to Him is listening to God. This is the purpose of the\nwhole, so far as we are concerned. We are to hear Him, when He\ndeclares God; when He witnesses of Himself, of His love, His work,\nHis death, His judgeship; when He invites us to come to Him, and\nfind rest; when He commands and when He promises. Amid the Babel of\nthis day, let us listen to that voice, low and gentle, pleading and\nsoft, authoritative, majestic, and sovereign. It will one day shake\n'not the earth only, but also the heaven.' But, as yet, it calls us\nwith strange sweetness, and the music of love in every tone. Well\nfor us if our hearts answer, 'Speak, Lord; for Thy servant heareth.'\n\nMatthew tells us that this voice from the cloud completely unmanned\nthe disciples, who fell on their faces, and lay there, we know not\nhow long, till Jesus came and laid a loving hand on them, bidding\nthem arise, and not fear. So when they staggered to their feet, and\nlooked around, they saw nothing but the grey stones of the hillside\nand the blue sky. 'That dread voice was past,' and the silence was\nbroken only by the hum of insects or the twitter of a far-off bird.\nThe strange guests have gone; the radiance has faded from the\nMaster's face, and all is as it used to be. 'They saw no one, save\nJesus only.' It is the summing up of revelation; all others vanish,\nHe abides. It is the summing up of the world's history. Thickening\nfolds of oblivion wrap the past, and all its mighty names become\nforgotten; but His figure stands out, solitary against the\nbackground of the past, as some great mountain, which travellers see\nlong after the lower summits are sunk beneath the horizon. Let us\nmake this the summing up of our lives. We can venture to take Him\nfor our sole helper, pattern, love, and aim, because He, in His\nsingleness, is enough for our hearts. There are many fragmentary\nprecious things, but there is only one pearl of great price. And\nthen this will be a prophecy of our deaths--a brief darkness, a\npassing dread, and then His touch and His voice saying, 'Arise, be\nnot afraid.' So we shall lift up our eyes, and find earth faded, and\nits voices fallen dim, and see 'no one any more, save Jesus only.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE SECRET OF POWER\n\n\n    'Then came the disciples to Jesus apart, and said, Why\n    could not we cast him out? 20. And Jesus said unto them,\n    Because of your unbelief.'--MATT. xvii. 19, 20.\n\n'And when He had called unto Him His twelve disciples, He gave them\npower against unclean spirits to cast them out.' That same power was\nbestowed, too, on the wider circle of the seventy who returned again\nwith joy, saying, 'Lord, even the devils are subject unto us through\nThy name.' The ground of it was laid in the solemn words with which\nChrist met their wonder at their own strength, and told how He\n'beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven.' Therefore had they\ntriumphed, showing the fruits of their Master's victory; and\ntherefore had He a right to renew the gift, in the still more\ncomprehensive promise, 'I give unto you power--over all the power of\nthe enemy.'\n\nWhat a commentary on such words this story affords! What has become\nof the disciples' supernatural might? Has it ebbed away as suddenly\nas it flowed? Is their Lord's endowment a shadow or His assurances\ndelusion? Has He taken back what He gave? Not so. And yet His\nservants are ignominiously beaten. One poor devil-ridden boy brings\nall their resources to nothing. He stands before them writhing in\nthe gripe of his tormentor, but they cannot set him free. The\nimportunity of the father's prayers is vain, and the tension of\nexpectancy in his eager face relaxes into the old hopeless languor\nas he slowly droops to the conviction that 'they could not cast him\nout.' The malicious scorn in the eyes of the Scribes, those hostile\ncritics who 'knew that it would be so,' helps to produce the failure\nwhich they anticipated. The curious crowd buzz about them, and in\nthe midst of it all stand the little knot of baffled disciples,\npossessors of power which seems to leave them when they need it\nmost, with the unavailing spells dying half spoken on their lips,\nand their faint hearts longing that their Master would come down\nfrom the mount, and cover their weakness with His own great\nstrength.\n\nNo wonder that, as soon as Christ and they are alone, they wish to\nknow how their mortifying defeat has come about. And they get an\nanswer which they little expected, for the last place where men look\nfor the explanation of their failures is within; but they will\nascend into the heavens, and descend into the deeps for remote and\nrecondite reasons, before they listen to the voice which says, 'The\nfault is nigh thee, in thy heart.' Christ's reply distinctly implies\nthat the cause of their impotence lay wholly in themselves, not in\nany defect or withdrawal of power, but solely in that in them which\ngrasped the power. They little expected, too, to be told that they\nhad failed because they had not been sure they would succeed. They\nhad thought that they believed in their ability to cast out the\ndemon. They had tried to do so, with some kind of anticipation that\nthey could. They had been surprised when they found that they could\nnot. They had wonderingly asked why. And now Christ tells them that\nall along they had had no real faith in Him and in the reality of\nHis gift. So subtly may unbelief steal into the heart, even while we\nfancy that we are working in faith. And a further portion of our\nLord's reply points them to the great means by which this conquering\nfaith can be maintained--namely, prayer and fasting. If, then, we\nput all these things together, we get a series of considerations,\nvery simple and commonplace indeed, but all the better and truer\ntherefor, which I venture to submit to you, as having a very\nimportant bearing on all our Christian work, and especially on the\nmissionary work of the Church. The principles which the text\nsuggests touch the perpetual possession of the power which conquers;\nthe condition of its victorious exercise by us, as being our faith;\nthe subtle danger of unsuspected unbelief to which we are exposed;\nand the great means of preserving our faith pure and strong. I ask\nyour attention to a few considerations on these points in their\norder.\n\nBut first, let me say very briefly, that I would not be understood\nas, by the selection of such a text, desiring to suggest that we\nhave failed in our work. Thank God! we can point to results far, far\ngreater than we have deserved, far greater than we have expected,\nhowever they may be beneath our desires, and still further below\nwhat the gospel was meant to accomplish. It may suit observers who\nhave never done anything themselves, and have not particularly clear\neyes for appreciating spiritual work, to talk of Christian missions\nas failures; but it would ill become us to assent to the lie.\nFailures indeed! with half a million of converts, with new forms of\nChristian life budding in all the wilderness of the peoples, with\nthe consciousness of coming doom creeping about the heart of every\nsystem of idolatry! Is the green life in the hedges and in the sweet\npastures starred with rathe primroses, and in the hidden copses blue\nwith hyacinths, a failure, because the east wind bites shrewdly, and\n'the tender ash delays to clothe herself with green'? No! no, we\nhave not failed. Enough has been done to vindicate the enterprise,\nmore than enough to fill our lips with thanksgiving, enough to\nentitle us to say to all would-be critics--Do you the same with your\nenchantments. But, on the other hand, we have to confess that the\nsuccess has been slow and small, chequered and interrupted, that\noften we have been foiled, that we have confronted many a demon whom\nwe could not cast out, and that at home and abroad the masses of\nevil seem to close in around us, and we make but little impression\non their serried ranks. We have had success enough to assure us that\nwe possess the treasure, and failures enough to make us feel how\nweak are the earthen vessels which hold it.\n\nAnd now let us turn to the principles which flow from this text.\n\nI. We have an unvarying power.\n\nNo doubt the explanation of their defeat which most naturally suggested\nitself to these disciples would be that somehow or other--perhaps\nbecause of Christ's absence--they had lost the gift which they knew\nthat they once had. And the same way of accounting for later want of\nsuccess lingers among Christian people still. You will sometimes hear\nit said: 'God sends forth His Spirit in special fulness at special\ntimes, according to His own sovereign will; and till then we can only\nwait and pray.' Or, 'The miraculous powers which dwelt in the early\nChurch have been withdrawn, and therefore the progress is slow.' The\nstrong imaginative tendency to make an ideal perfect in the past\nleads us to think of the primitive age of the Church as golden, in\nopposition to the plain facts of the case. We fancy that because\napostles were its teachers, and the Cross within its memory, the\ninfant society was stronger, wiser, better than any age since, and had\ngifts which we have lost. What had it which we do not possess? The\npower of working miracles. What have we which it did not possess? A\ncompleted Bible, and the experience of nineteen centuries to teach us\nto understand it, and to confirm by facts our confidence that Christ's\ngospel is for all time and every land. What have we in common with it?\nThe same mission to fulfil, the same wants in our brethren to meet, the\nsame gospel, the same spirit, the same immortal Lord. All that any age\nhas possessed to fit it for the task of witnessing for Christ we too\npossess. The Church has in it a power which is ever adequate to the\nconquest of the world; and that power is constant through all time,\nwhether we consider it as recorded in an unvarying gospel, or as\nenergised by an abiding spirit, or as flowing from and centred in an\nunchangeable Lord.\n\nWe have a gospel which never can grow old. Its adaptation to the\ndeepest needs of men's souls remains constant with these needs.\nThese vary not from age to age. No matter what may be the superficial\ndifferences of dress, the same human heart beats beneath every robe.\nThe great primal wants of men's spirits abide, as the great primal\nwants of their bodily life abide. Food and shelter for the one,--a\nloving, pardoning God, to know and love, for the other--else they\nperish. Wherever men go they carry with them a conscience which needs\ncleansing, a sense of separation from God joined with a dim knowledge\nthat union with Him is life, a will which is burdened with its own\nselfhood, an imagination which paints the misty walls of this earthly\nprison with awful shapes that terrify and faint hopes that mock, a\nheart that hungers for love, and a reason which pines in atrophy\nwithout light. And all these the gospel which is lodged in our hands\nmeets. It addresses itself to nothing in men that is not in man.\nSurface differences of position, culture, clime, age, and the like,\nit brushes aside as unimportant, and it goes straight to the universal\nwants. People tell us it has done its work, and much confident dogmatism\nproclaims that the world has outgrown it. We have a right to be\nconfident also, with a confidence born of our knowledge, that it has\nmet and satisfied for us the wants which are ours and every man's, and\nto believe that as long as men live by bread, so long will this word\nwhich proceedeth out of the mouth of God be the food of their souls.\nAreopagus and Piccadilly, Benares and Oxford, need the same message\nand will find the same response to all their wants in the same word.\n\nMany of the institutions in which Christendom has embodied its\nconceptions of God's truth will crumble away. Many of the\nconceptions will have to be modified, neglected truths will grow, to\nthe dislocation of much systematic theology, and the Word better\nunderstood will clear away many a portentous error with which the\nChurch has darkened the Word. Be it so. Let us be glad when 'the\nthings which can be shaken are removed,' like mean huts built\nagainst the wall of some cathedral, masking and marring the\ncompleteness of its beauty; 'that the things which cannot be shaken\nmay remain,' and all the clustered shafts, and deep-arched recesses,\nand sweet tracery may stand forth freed from the excrescences which\nhid them.\n\n'The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away. But the\nword of the Lord endureth for ever.'\n\nWe have an abiding Spirit, the Giver to us of a power without\nvariableness or the shadow of turning, 'I will pray the Father, and\nHe shall give you another Paraclete, that He may abide with you for\never.' The manner of His operations may vary, but the reality of His\nenergy abides. The 'works' of wonder which Jesus did on earth may no\nmore be done, but the greater works than these are still the sign of\n_His_ presence, without whom no spiritual life is possible.\nProphecies may fail, tongues may cease, but the more excellent gifts\nare poured out now as richly as ever. We are apt to look back to\nPentecost and think that that marked a height to which the tide has\nnever reached since, and therefore we are stranded amidst the ooze\nand mud. But the river which proceeds from the throne of God and of\nthe Lamb is not like one of our streams on earth, that leaps to the\nlight and dashes rejoicingly down the hillside, but creeps along\nsluggish in its level course, and dies away at last in the sands. It\npours along the ages the same full volume with which it gushed forth\nat first. Rather, the source goes with the Church in all ages, and\nwe drink not of water that came forth long ago in the history of the\nworld, and has reached us through the centuries, but of that which\nwells out fresh every moment from the Rock that follows us. The\nGiver of all power is with us.\n\nWe have a Lord, the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever. 'Lo, I\nam with you alway, even to the end of the world.' We have not merely\nto look back to the life and death of Christ in history, and\nrecognise there the work, the efficacy of which shall endure for\never. But whilst we do this, we have also to think of the Christ\n'that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also\nmaketh intercession for us.' And the one thought, as the other,\nshould strengthen our confidence in our possession of all the might\nthat we need for bringing the world back to our Lord.\n\nA work in the past which can never be exhausted or lose its power is\nthe theme of our message. The mists of gathering ages wrap in slowly\nthickening folds of forgetfulness all other men and events in\nhistory, and make them ghostlike and shadowy; but no distance has\nyet dimmed or will ever dim that human form divine. Other names are\nlike those stars that blaze out for a while, and then smoulder down\ninto almost complete invisibility; but He is the very Light itself,\nthat burns and is not consumed. Other landmarks sink below the\nhorizon as the tribes of men pursue their solemn march through the\ncenturies, but the Cross on Calvary 'shall stand for an ensign of\nthe people, and to it shall the Gentiles seek.' To proclaim that\naccomplished salvation, once for all lodged in the heart of the\nworld's history, and henceforth for ever valid, is our unalterable\nduty. The message carries in itself its own immortal strength.\n\nA living Saviour in the present, who works with us, confirming the\nword with signs following, is the source of our power. Not till He is\nimpotent shall we be weak. The unmeasurable measure of the gift of\nChrist defines the degree, and the unending duration of His life who\ncontinueth for ever sets the period, of our possession of the grace\nwhich is given to every one of us. He is ever bestowing. He never\nwithdraws what He once gives. The fountain sinks not a hairs-breadth,\nthough nineteen centuries have drawn from it. Modern astronomy begins\nto believe that the sun itself by long expense of light will be shorn\nof its beams and wander darkling in space, circled no more by its\ndaughter planets. But this Sun of our souls rays out for ever the\nenergies of life and light and love, and after all communication\npossesses the infinite fulness of them all. 'His name shall be\ncontinued as long as the sun; all nations shall call Him blessed.'\n\nHere then, brethren, are the perpetual elements of our constant\npower, an eternal Word, an abiding Spirit, an unchanging Lord.\n\nII. The condition of exercising this power is Faith.\n\nWith such a force at our command--a force that could shake the\nmountains and break the rocks--how come we ever to fail? So the\ndisciples asked, and Christ's answer cuts to the very heart of the\nmatter. Why could you not cast him out? For one reason only, because\nyou had lost your hold of My strength, and therefore had lost your\nconfidence in your own derived power, or had forgotten that it was\nderived, and essayed to wield it as if it were your own. You did not\ntrust Me, so you did not believe that you could cast him out; or you\nbelieved that you could by your own might, therefore you failed. He\nthrows them back decisively on themselves as solely responsible.\nNowhere else, in heaven or in earth or hell, but only in us, does\nthe reason lie for our breakdown, if we have broken down. Not in\nGod, who is ever with us, ready to make all grace abound in us,\nwhose will is that all men should be saved and come to the knowledge\nof the truth; not in the gospel which we preach, for 'it is the\npower of God unto salvation'; not in the demon might which has\novercome us, for 'greater is He that is in us than he that is in the\nworld.' We are driven from all other explanations to the bitterest\nand yet the most hopeful of all, that we only are to blame.\n\nAnd what in us is to blame? Some of us will answer--Our modes of\nworking; they have not been free enough, or not orderly enough, or\nin some way or other not wisely adapted to our ends. Some will\nanswer--Our forms of presenting the truth; they have not been\nflexible enough, or not fixed enough; they have been too much a\nreproduction of the old; they have been too licentious a departure\nfrom the old. Some will answer--Our ecclesiastical arrangements;\nthey have been too democratic; they have been too priestly. Some\nwill answer--Our intellectual culture; it has been too great,\nobscuring the simplicity that is in Christ; it has been too small,\nsending poorly furnished men into the field to fight with ordered\nsystems of idolatry which rest upon a philosophical basis, and can\nonly be overturned by undermining that. It is no part of my present\nduty to discuss these varying answers. No doubt there is room for\nimprovement in all the fields which they indicate. But does not the\nspirit of our Lord's words here beckon us away from these purely\nsecondary subjects to fix our self-examination on the depth and\nstrength of our faith, as incomparably the most important element in\nthe conditions which determine our success or our failure? I do not\nundervalue the worth of wise methods of action, but the history of\nthe Church tells us that pretty nearly any methods of action are\nfruitful in the right hands, and that without living faith the best\nof them become like the heavy armour which half-smothered a feeble\nman. I do not pretend to that sublime indifference to dogma which is\nthe modern form of supreme devotion to truth, but experience has\ntaught us that wherever the name of Christ, as the Saviour of the\nworld, has been lovingly proclaimed, there devils have been cast\nout, whatever private and sectional doctrines the exerciser has\nadded to it. I do not disparage organisation, but courage is more\nthan drill; and there is such a thing as the very perfection of\narrangement without life, like cabinets in a museum, where all the\nspecimens are duly classified, and dead. I believe, with the old\npreacher, that if God does not need our learning, He needs our\nignorance still less, but it is of comparatively little importance\nwhether the draught of living water be brought to thirsty lips in an\nearthen cup or a golden vase.\n\n  'The main thing is, does it hold good measure?\n   Heaven soon sets right all other matters.'\n\nAnd therefore, while leaving full scope for all improvements in\nthese subordinate conditions, let me urge upon you that the main\nthing which makes us strong for our Christian work is the grasp of\nliving faith, which holds fast the strength of God. There is no need\nto plunge into the jungle of metaphysical theology here. Is it not a\nfact that the might with which the power of God has wrought for\nmen's salvation has corresponded with the strength of the Church's\ndesire and the purity of its trust in His power? Is it not a truth\nplainly spoken in Scripture and confirmed by experience, that we\nhave the awful prerogative of limiting the Holy One of Israel, and\nquenching the Spirit? Was there not a time in Christ's life on earth\nwhen He could do no mighty works because of their unbelief? We\nreceive all spiritual gifts in proportion to our capacity, and the\nchief factor in settling the measure of our capacity is our faith.\nHere on the one hand is the boundless ocean of the divine strength,\nunfathomable in its depth, full after all draughts, tideless and\ncalm, in all its movement never troubled, in all its repose never\nstagnating; and on the other side is the empty aridity of our poor\nweak natures. Faith opens these to the influx of that great sea, and\n'according to our faith,' in the exact measure of our receptivity,\ndoes it enter our hearts. In itself the gift is boundless. It has no\nlimit except the infinite fulness of the power which worketh in us.\nBut in reference to our possession it is bounded by our capacity,\nand though that capacity enlarges by the very fact of being filled,\nand so every moment becomes greater through fruition, yet at each\nmoment it is the measure of our possession, and our faith is the\nmeasure of our capacity. Our power is God's power in us, and our\nfaith is the power with which we grasp God's power and make it ours.\nSo then, in regard to God, our faith is the condition of our being\nstrengthened with might by His Spirit.\n\nConsider, too, how the same faith has a natural operation on ourselves\nwhich tends to fit us for casting out the evil spirits. Given a man\nfull of faith, you will have a man tenacious in purpose, absorbed in\none grand object, simple in his motives, in whom selfishness has been\ndriven out by the power of a mightier love, and indolence stirred into\nunwearied energy. Such a man will be made wise to devise, gentle to\nattract, bold to rebuke, fertile in expedients, and ready to be\nanything that may help the aim of his life. Fear will be dead in him,\nfor faith is the true anaesthesia of the soul; and the knife may cut\ninto the quivering flesh, and the spirit be scarce conscious of a pang.\nLove, ambition, and all the swarm of distracting desires will be\ndriven from the soul in which the lamp of faith burns bright. Ordinary\nhuman motives will appeal in vain to the ears which have heard the\ntones of the heavenly music, and all the pomps of life will show poor\nand tawdry to the sight that has gazed on the vision of the great\nwhite throne and the crystal sea. The most ignorant and erroneous\n'religious sentiment'--to use a modern phrase--is mightier than all\nother forces in the world's history. It is like some of those terrible\ncompounds of modern chemistry, an inert, innocuous-looking drop of\nliquid. Shake it, and it flames heaven high, shattering the rocks and\nploughing up the soil. Put even an adulterated and carnalised faith\ninto the hearts of a mob of wild Arabs, and in a century they will\nstream from their deserts, and blaze from the mountains of Spain to\nthe plains of Bengal. Put a living faith in Christ and a heroic\nconfidence in the power of His Gospel to reclaim the worst sinners\ninto a man's heart, and he will out of weakness be made strong, and\nplough his way through obstacles with the compact force and crashing\ndirectness of lightning. There have been men of all sorts who have\nbeen honoured to do much in this world for Christ. Wise and foolish,\nlearned and ignorant, differing in tone, temper, creed, forms of\nthought, and manner of working, in every conceivable degree; but one\nthing, and perhaps one thing only, they have all had--a passion of\nenthusiastic personal devotion to their Lord, a profound and living\nfaith in Him and in His salvation. All in which they differed is but\nthe gay gilding on the soldier's coat. That in which they were alike\nis as the strong arm which grasps the sword, and has its muscles\nbraced by the very clutch. Faith is itself a source of strength, as\nwell as the condition of drawing might from heaven.\n\nConsider, too, how faith has power over men who see it. The\nexhibition of our own personal convictions has more to do in\nspreading them than all the arguments which we use. There is a\nmagnetism and a contagious energy in the sight of a brother's faith\nwhich few men can wholly resist. If you wish me to weep, your own\ntears must flow; and if you would have me believe, let me see your\nsoul heaving under the emotion which you desire me to feel. The\narrow may be keen and true, the shaft rounded and straight, the bow\nstrong, and the arm sinewy; but unless the steel be winged it will\nfall to the ground long before it strikes the butt. Your arrows must\nbe winged with faith, else orthodoxy, and wise arrangements, and\nforce and zeal, will avail nothing. No man will believe in, and no\ndemon will obey, spells which the would-be exorcist only half\nbelieves himself. Even if he speak the name of Christ, unless he\nspeak it with unfaltering confidence, all the answer he will get\nwill only be the fierce and taunting question, 'Jesus I know, and\nPaul I know, but who are ye?' Brethren, let us give heed to the\nsolemn rebuke which our Master lovingly reads to us in these words,\nand while we aim at the utmost possible perfection in all\nsubordinate matters, let us remember that they all without faith are\nweak, as an empty suit of armour with no life beneath the corselet;\nand that faith without them all is strong, like the knight of old,\nwho rode into the bloody field in simple silken vest, and conquered.\nThat which determines our success or failure in the work of our Lord\nis our faith.\n\nIII. Our faith is ever threatened by subtle unbelief.\n\nIt would appear that the disciples were ignorant of the unbelief\nthat had made them weak. They fancied that they had confidence in\ntheir Christ-given power, and they certainly had in some dull kind\nof fashion expected to succeed in their attempt. But He who sees the\nheart knew that there was no real living confidence in their souls;\nand His words are a solemn warning to us all, of how possible it is\nfor us to have our faith all honeycombed by gnawing doubt while we\nsuspect it not, like some piece of wood apparently sound, the whole\nsubstance of which has been eaten away by hidden worms. We may be\ngoing on with Christian work, and may even be looking for spiritual\nresults. We may fancy ourselves faithful stewards of the gospel, and\nall the while there may be an utter absence of the one thing which\nmakes our words more than so much wind whistling through an archway.\nThe shorn Samson went out 'to shake himself as at other times,' and\nknew not that the Spirit of the Lord had departed from him. Who\namong us is not exposed to the assaults of that pestilence that\nwalketh in darkness? and, alas! who among us can say that he has\nrepelled the contagion? Subtly it creeps over us all, the stealthy\nintangible vapour, unfelt till it has quenched the lamp which alone\nlights the darkness of the mine, and clogged to suffocation the\nlabouring lungs.\n\nI will not now speak of the general sources of danger to our faith,\nwhich are always in operation with a retarding force as constant as\nfriction, as certain as the gravitation which pulls the pendulum to\nrest at its lowest point. But I may very briefly particularise two\nof the enemies of that faith, which have a special bearing on our\nmissionary work, and may be illustrated from the narrative before\nus.\n\nFirst, all our activity in spreading the Gospel, whether by personal\neffort or by our gifts, like every form of outward action, tends to\nbecome mechanical, and to lose its connection with the motive which\noriginated it. Of course it is also true, on the other side, that\nall outward action also tends to strengthen the motive from which it\nflows. But our Christian work will not do so, unless it be carefully\nwatched, and pains be taken to keep it from slipping off its\noriginal foundation, and so altering its whole character. We may\nvery easily become so occupied with the mere external occupation as\nto be quite unconscious that it has ceased to be faithful work, and\nhas become routine, dull mechanism, or the result of confidence, not\nin Christ, whose power once flowed through us, but in ourselves the\ndoers. So these disciples may have thought, 'We can cast out this\ndevil, for we have done the like already,' and have forgotten that\nit was not they, but Christ in them, who had done it.\n\nHow widely this foe to our faith operates amid the multiplied\nactivities of this busy age, one trembles to think. We see all\naround us a Church toiling with unexampled expenditure of wealth,\nand effort, and time. It is difficult to repress the suspicion that\nthe work is out of proportion to the life. Ah, brethren, how much of\nall this energy of effort, so admirable in many respects, will He\nwhose fan is in His hand accept as true service--how much of it will\nbe wheat for the garner, how much chaff for the fire? It is not for\nus to divide between the two, but it is for us to remember that it\nis not impossible to make of our labours the most dangerous enemy to\nthe depth of our still life hidden with Christ in God, and that\nevery deed of apparent service which is not the real issue of living\nfaith is powerless for good to others, and heavy with hurt to\nourselves. Brethren and fathers in the ministry! how many of us know\nwhat it is to talk and toil away our early devotion; and all at once\nto discover that for years perhaps we have been preaching and\nlabouring from mere habit and routine, like corpses galvanised into\nsome ghastly and transient caricature of life. Christian men and\nwomen, beware lest this great enterprise of missions, which our\nfathers began from the holiest motives and in the simplest faith,\nshould in our hand be wrenched away from its only true basis, and be\ndone with languid expectation and more languid desires of success,\nfrom no higher motive than that we found it in existence, and have\nbecome accustomed to carry it on. If that be our reason, then we\nharm ourselves, and mask from our own sight our own unbelief. If\nthat be the case the work may go on for a while, like a clock\nticking with fainter and fainter beats for a minute after it has run\ndown; but it will soon cease, and neither heaven nor earth will be\nmuch the poorer for its ending.\n\nAgain, the atmosphere of scornful disbelief which surrounded the\ndisciples made their faith falter. It was too weak to sustain itself\nin the face of the consciousness that not a man in all that crowd\nbelieved in their power; and it melted away before the contempt of\nthe scribes and the incredulous curiosity of the bystanders, without\nany reason except the subtle influence which the opinions and\ncharacters of those around us have on us all.\n\nAnd, brethren, are not we in danger to-day of losing the firmness of\nour grasp on Christ, as our Saviour and the world's, from a\nprecisely similar cause? We live in an atmosphere of hesitancy and\ndoubt, of scornful rejection of His claims, of contemptuous\ndisbelief in anything which a scalpel cannot cut. We cannot but be\nconscious that to hold by Jesus Christ as the Incarnate God, the\nsupernatural Beginning of a new life, the sole Hope of the world, is\nto expose ourselves to the contempt of so-called advanced and\nliberal thinkers, and to be out of harmony with the prevailing set\nof opinions. The current of educated thought runs strongly against\nsuch beliefs, and I suppose that every thoughtful man among us feels\nthat a great danger to our faith to-day comes from the force with\nwhich that current swings us round, and threatens to make some of us\ndrag our anchors, and drift, and strike and go to pieces on the\nsands. For one man who is led by the sheer force of reason to yield\nto the intellectual grounds on which modern unbelief reposes, there\nare twenty who simply catch the infection in the atmosphere. They\nfind that their early convictions have evaporated, they know not\nhow; only that once the fleece was wet with dew and now it is dry.\nFor unbelief has a contagious energy wholly independent of reason,\nno less than has faith, and affects multitudes who know nothing of\nits grounds, as the iceberg chills the summer air for leagues, and\nmakes the sailors shiver long before they see its barren peaks.\n\nTherefore, brethren, let us all take heed to ourselves, lest we\nsuffer our grasp of our dear Lord's hand to relax for no better\nreason than because so many have left His side. To us all His\npleading love, which knows how much we are moulded by the example of\nothers, is saying, in view of the fashion of unbelief, 'Will ye also\ngo away?' Let us answer, with a clasp that clings the tighter for\nour danger of being sucked in by the strong current, 'Lord, to whom\nshall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.' We cannot help\nseeing that the creeping paralysis of hesitancy and doubt about even\nthe power of Christ's name is stealing over portions of the Church,\nand stiffening the arm of its activity. Lips that once spoke with\nfull confidence the words that cast out devils, mutter them now\nlanguidly with half-belief. Hearts that were once full of sympathy\nwith the great purpose for which Christ died are growing cold to the\nwork of preaching the Gospel to the heathen, because they are\ngrowing to doubt whether, after all, there is any Gospel at all.\nThis icy breath, dear brethren, is blowing over our Churches and\nover our hearts. And wherever it reaches, there labour for Jesus and\nfor men languishes, and we recoil baffled with unavailing exorcisms\ndying in our throats, and the rod of our power broken in our hands.\n'Why could not we cast him out? Because of your unbelief.'\n\nIV. Our faith can only be maintained by constant devotion and rigid\nself-denial.\n\nI can touch but very lightly on that solemn thought in which our Lord\nsets forth the condition of our faith, and therefore of our power.\nThis kind goeth not out but by prayer and fasting. The discipline\nthen which nurtures faith is mainly moral and spiritual--not as a\nsubstitute for, or to the exclusion of, the intellectual discipline,\nwhich is presupposed, not neglected, in these words.\n\nThe first condition of the freshness and energy of faith is constant\ndevotion. The attrition of the world wears it thin, the distractions\nof life draw it from its clinging hold on Christ, the very toil for\nHim is apt to entice our thoughts from out of the secret place of\nthe most High into the busy arena of our strife. Therefore we have\never need to refresh the drooping flowers of the chaplet by bathing\nthem in the Fountain of Life, to rise above all the fevered toil of\nearth to the calm heights where God dwells, and in still communion\nwith Him to replenish our emptied vessels and fill our dimly burning\nlamps with His golden oil. The sister of the cumbered Martha is the\ncontemplative Mary, who sits in silence at the Master's feet and\nlets His words sink into her soul; the closest friend of Peter the\napostle of action is John the apostle of love. If our work is to be\nworthy, it must ever be freshened anew by our gaze into His face; if\nour communion with Him is to be deep, it must never be parted from\noutward service. Our Master has left us the example, in that, when\nthe night fell and every man went to his own home, Jesus went to the\nMount of Olives; and thence, after His night of prayer, came very\nearly in the morning to the temple, and taught. The stream that is\nto flow broad and life-giving through many lands must have its\nhidden source high among the pure snows that cap the mount of God.\nThe man that would work for God must live with God. It was from the\nheight of transfiguration that _He_ came, before whom the demon\nthat baffled the disciples quailed and slunk away like a whipped\nhound. This kind goeth not out but by prayer.\n\nThe second condition is rigid self-denial. Fasting is the expression\nof the purpose to control the lower life, and to abstain from its\ndelights in order that the life of the spirit may be strengthened.\nAs to the outward fact, it is nothing--it may be practised or not.\nIf it be, it will be valuable only in so far as it flows from and\nstrengthens that purpose. And such vigorous subordination of all\nthe lower powers, and abstinence from many an inferior good, both\nmaterial and immaterial, is absolutely necessary if we are to have\nany wholesome strength of faith in our souls. In the recoil from\nthe false asceticism of Roman Catholicism and Puritanism, has not\nthis generation of the Church gone too far in the opposite\ndirection? and in the true belief that Christianity can sanctify\nall joys, and ensure the harmonious development of all our powers,\nhave we not been forgetting that hand and foot may cause us to\nstumble, and that we had better live maimed than die with all our\nlimbs? There is a true asceticism, a discipline--a 'gymnastic unto\ngodliness,' as Paul calls it. And if our faith is to grow high and\nbear rich clusters on the topmost boughs that look up to the sky,\nwe must keep the wild lower shoots close nipped. Without rigid\nself-control and self-limitation, no vigorous faith.\n\nAnd without them no effectual work! It is no holiday task to cast\nout devils. Self-indulgent men will never do it. Loose-braced, easy\nsouls, that lie open to all the pleasurable influences of ordinary\nlife, are no more fit for God's weapons than a reed for a lance, or\na bit of flexible lead for a spear-point. The wood must be tough and\ncompact, the metal hard and close-grained, out of which God makes\nHis shafts. The brand that is to guide men through the darkness to\ntheir Father's home must glow with a pallor of consuming flame that\npurges its whole substance into light. This kind goeth not out but\nby prayer and fasting.\n\nDear brethren, what solemn rebuke these words have for us all! How\nthey winnow our works of Christian activity! How they show us the\nhollowness of our services, the self-indulgence of our lives, the\ncoldness of our devotion, the cowardice of our faith! How marvellous\nthey make the fruits which God's great goodness has permitted us to\nsee even from our doubting service! Let us turn to Him with fresh\nthankfulness that unto us, who are 'less than the least of all\nsaints, is this grace given, that we should preach among the nations\nthe unsearchable riches of Christ.' Let us not be driven from our\nconfidence that we have a gospel to preach for all the world; but\nstrong in the faith which rests on impregnable historical grounds,\non our own experience of what Christ has done for us, and on\nnineteen centuries of growing power and unfolding wisdom, let us\nthankfully welcome all that modern thought may supply for the\ncorrection of errors in belief, in organisation, and in life, that\nmay have gathered round His perfect and eternal gospel--being\nassured, as we have a right to be, that all will but lift higher the\nName which is above every name, and set forth more plainly that\nCross which is the true tree of life to all the families of men. Let\nus cast ourselves before Him with penitent confession, and say,--O\nLord, our strength! we have not wrought any deliverance on earth; we\nhave been weak when all Thy power was at our command; we have spoken\nThy word as if it were an experiment and a peradventure whether it\nhad might; we have let go Thy hand and lost Thy garment's hem from\nour slack grasp; we have been prayerless and self-indulgent.\nTherefore Thou hast put us to shame before our foes, and 'our\nenemies laugh among themselves. Thou that dwellest between the\ncherubim, shine forth; stir up Thy strength and come and save us!'\nThen will the last words that He spoke on earth ring out again from\nthe throne: 'All power is given unto Me in heaven and in earth. Go\nye therefore and teach all nations; and lo, I am with you alway,\neven unto the end of the world.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE COIN IN THE FISH'S MOUTH\n\n\n    'And when he was come into the house, Jesus prevented\n    him, saying, What thinkest them, Simon? of whom do the\n    kings of the earth take custom or tribute? of their own\n    children, or of strangers? 26. Peter saith unto Him, Of\n    strangers. Jesus saith unto him, Then are the children\n    free.'--MATT. xvii. 25, 26.\n\nAll our Lord's miracles are 'signs' as well as 'wonders.' They have\na meaning. They not only authenticate His teaching, but they are\nthemselves no inconsiderable portion of the teaching. They are not\nonly 'the great bell before His sermon,' but they are also a portion\nof the sermon.\n\nThat doctrinal or dogmatic purpose characterises all the miracles in\nvarying degrees. It is the only purpose of the one before us. This\nsingular miracle of finding the coin in the fish's mouth and giving\nit for the tribute-money is unlike our Lord's other works in several\nparticulars. It is the only miracle--with the exception of the\ncursing of the barren fig-tree, and the episode of the unclean\nspirits entering into the swine--in which there is no message of\nlove or blessing for man's sorrow and pain. It is the only miracle\nin which our Lord uses His power for His own service or help, and it\nis like the whole brood of legendary miracles, and unlike all the\nrest of Christ's in that, at first sight, it seems done for a very\ntrivial end--the providing of some three shillings of our money.\n\nNow, if we put all these things together, the absence of any\nalleviation of man's sorrow, the presence of a personal end, and the\napparent triviality of the result secured, I think we shall see that\nthe only explanation of the miracle is given by regarding it as\nbeing what I may call a teaching one, full of instruction with\nregard to our Lord's character, person, and work. It is a parable as\nwell as a miracle, and it is in that aspect that I wish to look at\nit now, and try to bring out its lessons.\n\nI. We have here, first, the freedom of the Son.\n\nThe whole point of the story depends upon the fact that this\ntribute-money was not a civil, but an ecclesiastical impost. It had\noriginally been levied in the Wilderness, at the time of the\nnumbering of the people, and was enjoined to be repeated at each\ncensus, when every male Israelite was to pay half a shekel for 'a\nransom for his soul,' an acknowledgment that his life was forfeited\nby sin. In later years it came to be levied as an annual payment for\nthe support of the temple and its ceremonial. It was never\ncompulsory, there was no power to exact it. The question of the\ncollectors, 'Doth not your Master pay tribute?' does not sound like\nthe imperative demand which a 'publican' would have made for payment\nof an impost due to the Roman Government. It was an 'optional\nchurch-rate,' and the very fact that it was so, would make Jews who\nwere, or wished to be considered, patriotic or religious, the more\npunctilious in paying it.\n\nThe question put to Peter possibly implies a doubt whether this\nRabbi, who held lax views on so many points of Pharisaical\nrighteousness, would be likely to recognise the obligation of the\ntax. Peter's quick answer seems to be prompted by zeal for his\nMaster's honour, on which the question appears to him to cast a\nslur. It was perhaps too quick, but the apostle has been too much\nblamed for his answer, which was in fact correct, and for which our\nLord does not blame him. When he comes to Christ to tell what has\nhappened, before he can speak, Christ puts to him this little\nparable which I have taken as part of my text: 'How thinkest thou?\nDo kings of this world take custom?'--meaning thereby not imports or\nexports, but taxes of all kinds of things,--'or tribute,'--meaning\nthereby taxes on persons--'from their own children, or from subjects\nwho are not their children?' The answer, of course, is, 'From the\nlatter.' So the answer comes, 'Then are the children free.'\n\nChrist then here claims in some sense, Sonship to Him to whom the\ntribute is paid, that is, to God, and therefore freedom from the\nobligation to pay the tribute. But notice, for this is an important\npoint in the explanation of the words, that the plural in our Lord's\nwords, 'Then are the children free,' is not intended to include\nPeter and the others in the same category as Himself. The only\nquestion in hand is as to His obligation to pay a certain tax; and\nto include any one else would have been irrelevant, as well as\nerroneous. The plural belongs to the illustration, not to its\napplication, and corresponds with the plural in the question, 'Of\nwhom do the _kings_ of the earth take custom?' The kings of the\nearth are contrasted with the one King of the heavens, the supreme\nand sole Sovereign; and the children of the kings of the earth are\ncontrasted with the only begotten Son of the only King of kings and\nLord of lords.\n\nSo that here there is no mixing up of Himself with others, or of\nothers with Himself, but the claiming of an unique position,\nsingular and sole, belonging to Him only, in which He stands as the\nSon of the mighty Monarch to whom the tribute is paid. He claims to\nhave the divine nature, the divine prerogatives, to bear a specific\nrelationship to God Himself, and to be, as other words in Scripture\nput it, 'the brightness of the Father's glory and the express image\nof His person.'\n\nIf there is anything certain about Jesus Christ's teaching, this is\ncertain about it, that He proclaimed Himself to be the Son of God,\nin such a sense as no man shared with Him, and in such a sense as\nvindicated the attitude which He took up, the demands which He made,\nand the gifts which He offered to men.\n\nWhat a deduction must be made from the wisdom of His teaching, and\nfrom the meekness of His Spirit, if that claim was an illusion! What\nshall we say of the sanity of a man who poses himself before the\nwhole race, claiming to be the Son of God, and whose continual\nteaching to them therefore is, _not_, 'Believe in goodness';\n'Believe in virtue'; 'Believe in truth'; 'Believe in My word'; but\n'Believe in Me'? Was there ever anywhere else a religious teacher,\nall of whose words were gracious and wise and sweet, but who--\n\n  'Make the important stumble,\n   Of saying that he, the sage and humble,\n   Was likewise--one with the Creator'?\n\nBut now what is the freedom based on sonship which our Lord here\nclaims?\n\nI have said that this tax was levied with a double meaning; first,\nit was an atonement or ransom for the soul; second, it was devoted\nto the temple and its worship. And now, mark, that in both these\naspects our Lord alleges His true sonship as the reason why He is\nexempt from it.\n\nThat is to say, first, Jesus Christ claims to have no need of a\nransom for His soul. Never one word dropped from His lips which\nindicated the smallest consciousness of flaw or failure, of defect\nor imperfection, still less of actual transgression. He takes His\nposition outside the circle of sinful men which includes all others.\nIt is a strange characteristic in a religious teacher, very unlike\nthe usual tone of devout men. And stranger still is the fact that\nthe absence of this consciousness of evil has never been felt to be\nitself evil and a blot. Think of a David's agony of penitence. Think\nof a Paul's, 'Of whom I am chief!' Think of the long wail of an\nAugustine's confessions. Think of the stormy self-accusations of a\nLuther; and then think that He who inspired them all, never, by word\nor deed, betrayed the slightest consciousness that in Himself there\nwas the smallest deflection from the perfect line of right, the\nleast speck or stain on the perfect gold of His purity. And\nremember, too, that when He challenges the world with, 'Which of you\nconvinceth Me of sin?' with the exception of half a dozen men, of\nwhom we can scarcely say whether their want of spiritual insight or\ntheir arrogance of self-importance is the most flagrant, who, in the\ncourse of nineteen centuries, have ventured to fling their little\nhandfuls of mud at Him, the whole world has answered, 'Thou art\nfairer than the children of men; grace is poured into Thy lips.'\n\nThe Son needs no 'ransom for His soul,' which, being translated, is\nbut this: the purity and the innocence of Jesus Christ, which is a\nmanifest fact in His biography, is only explicable when we believe\nthat we have before us the Incarnate God, and therefore the Perfect\nMan. And the Son needs no temple for His worship. His whole life, as\nhuman, was a life of communion and prayer with His Father in heaven.\nAnd just because He 'dwelt in' God's 'bosom all the year,' for Him\nritual and temple were nought. Sense-bound men needed them; He\nneeded them not. 'In this place,' said He, 'is one greater than the\ntemple.' He was all which the temple symbolised. Was it the\ndwelling-place of God, the place of sacrifice, the meeting-place of\nman with God, the place of divine manifestation? 'The temple of His\nbody' was in deepest reality all these. In it dwelt the whole\nfulness of the Godhead. It was at once sacrifice and place of\nsacrifice, even as He is the true everlasting Priest. In Him men see\nGod, and meet with God. He is greater than the temple because He is\nthe true temple, and He is the true temple because He is the Son.\nAnd because He is the Son, therefore He is free from all dependence\nupon, and connection with, the outward worship of ceremony and\nsacrifice and priest and ritual.\n\nNow, dear brethren, let me pause for one moment to press upon you\nand upon myself this question: Do I welcome that Christ with the\nfull conviction that He is the Son of God? It seems to me that, in\nthis generation, the question of questions, as far as religion is\nconcerned, is the old one which Christ asked of His disciples by the\nfountains and woods of Caesarea Philippi: 'Whom say ye that I, the\nSon of Man, am?' Can you lift up your face to meet His clear and\nall-searching eye, and say: 'Thou art the Christ, the Son of the\nliving God'? If you can, you are on the way to understanding Him and\nHis work; if you cannot, His life and work are all wrapped in\ndarkness for you, His death robbed of its truest power, and your\nlife deprived of its surest anchor.\n\nII. Now, there is a second lesson that I would gather from this\nmiracle--the voluntary submission of the Son to the bonds from which\nHe is free.\n\nHe bids His disciple pay the tribute for Him, for a specific reason:\n'Lest we should offend them.' That, of course, is simply a piece of\npractical wisdom, to prevent any narrow or purblind souls from\nstumbling at His teaching, by reason of His neglect of this trivial\nmatter. The question of how far religious teachers or any others are\nat liberty, when they are not actuated by personal motives, to\nrender compliance with ceremonies which are of no value to them, is\na wide one, which I have no need to dwell upon here. But, turning\nfrom that specific aspect of the incident, I think we may look upon\nit as being an illustration, in regard to a very small matter, of\nwhat is really the essence of our Lord's relation to the whole world\nand ourselves--His voluntary taking upon Himself of bonds from which\nHe is free.\n\nIs it not a symbol of the very heart of the meaning of His\nIncarnation? 'For as much as the children are partakers of flesh and\nblood He also Himself likewise takes part of the same.' 'He is found\nin fashion as a man.' He chooses to enter within the limits and the\nobligations of humanity. Round the radiant glories of the divinity,\nHe gathers the folds of the veil of human flesh. He immerses the\npillar of fire in a cloud of smoke. He comes amongst us, taking on\nHis own wrists the fetters that bind us, suffering Himself to be\n'cribbed, cabined, and confined' within the narrow limits of our\nmanhood, in order that by His voluntary acceptance of it we may be\nredeemed from our corruption.\n\nIs it not a parable of His life and lowly obedience? He proclaimed\nthe same principle as the guide for all His conduct, when, sinless,\nHe presented Himself to John for the 'baptism of repentance,' and\novercame the baptiser's scruples with the words, 'Thus it becometh\nus to fulfil all righteousness.' He comes under the law. Bound to no\nsuch service, He binds Himself to all human duties that He may\nhallow the bonds which He has worn, may set us the pattern of\nperfect obedience, and may know a servant's heart.\n\nThe Prince is free, but King's Son though He be, He goes among His\nFather's poor subjects, lives their squalid lives, makes experience\nof their poverty, and hardens His hands by labouring like them.\nSympathy He 'learned in huts where poor men lie.'\n\nIs it not the rehearsal in parable of His death? He was free from\nthe bonds of mortality, and He took upon Him our human flesh. He was\nfree from the necessity of death, even after He had taken our flesh\nupon Him. But, being free from the necessity, He submitted to the\nactuality, and laid down His life of Himself, because of His loving\nwill, to save and help each of us. Oh, dear friends! we never can\nunderstand the meaning and the beauty, either of the life or of the\ndeath of our Master, unless we look at each from this point of view,\nthat it is His willing acceptance of the bonds that bind us. His own\nloving will brought Him here; His own loving will kept Him here; His\nown loving will impelled Him along the path of life, though at every\nstep of it He trod as with naked feet upon burning iron; His own\nloving Will brought Him to the Cross; His own loving will, and not\nthe Roman soldiers' nails, fastened Him to it. Let us look, then, to\nHim with thankfulness, and recognise in that death His thorough\nidentification with all the bonds and miseries of our condition. He\n'took part of the same that through death He might deliver them that\nby fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.'\n\nIII. Then there is another lesson which I think we may fairly gather\nfrom this miracle, viz. that we have here the supernatural glory\nwhich ever accompanies the humiliation of the Son.\n\nThe miracle, at first sight, appears to be for a very trivial end.\nMen have made merry with it by reason of that very triviality. But\nthe miracle is vindicated, peculiar as it is, by a deep divine\ncongruity and decorum. He will submit, Son though He be, to this\ncomplete identification of Himself with us. But He will so submit\nas, even in submitting, to assert His divine dignity. As has been\nwell said, 'In the midst of the act of submission majesty flashes\nforth.' A multiform miracle--containing many miracles in one--a\nmiracle of omniscience, and a miracle of influence over the lower\ncreatures is wrought. The first fish that rises carries in its mouth\nthe exact sum needed.\n\nHere, therefore, we have another illustration of that remarkable\nblending of humiliation and glory, which is a characteristic of our\nLord's life. These two strands are always twined together, like a\ntwisted line of gold and black. At each moment of special abasement\nthere is some special coruscation of the brightness of His glory.\nWhensoever He stoops there is something accompanying the stooping,\nto tell how great and how merciful He is who bows. Out of the\ndeepest darkness there flashes some light. So at His cradle, which\nseems to be the identifying of Him with humanity in its most\nhelpless and lowest condition, there shall be angels, and the stars\nin their courses shall bow and move to guide wise men from afar with\nofferings to His feet. And at His Cross, where He sounds the very\nbass string and touches the lowest point of humiliation and defeat,\na clearer vision sees in that humiliation the highest glory.\n\nAnd thus, here, He will not only identify Himself with sinful men\nwho need a ransom, and with sense-bound men who need a sacrifice and\na temple, but He will so identify Himself with them as that He shall\nsend His power into the recesses of the lake, where His knowledge\nsees, as clearly as our eyes see the men that stand beside us, and\nobedient to an unconscious impulse from Him, the dumb creature that\nhad swallowed, as it sunk, the shining _stater_ that had\ndropped out of the girdle of some fisherman, shall rise first to the\nhook; in token that not only in His Father's house does He rule as a\nSon over His own house, but that He 'doeth as He hath pleased, in\nall deep places,' and that in Him the ancient hope is fulfilled of a\nSon of Man who 'hath dominion over the fish of the sea, and\nwhatsoever passeth through the paths of the sea.' The miracle was\nfor a trivial end in appearance, but it was a demonstration, though\nto one man only at first, yet through him to all the world, that\nthis Christ, in His lowliness, is the Everlasting Son of the Father.\n\nIV. And so, lastly, we have here also the lesson of the sufficiency\nfor us all of what He provides.\n\n'That take, and give unto them for Me and for thee. He does not say\n'_For us._' He and Peter do not stand on the game level. He has\nchosen to submit Himself to the obligations, Peter was necessarily\nunder them. That which is found by miracle in the fish's mouth is\nprecisely the amount required for both the one and the other. It is\nrendered, as the original has it, _'Instead of_ thee and Me,'\nputting emphasis upon the characteristic of the tribute as being\nransom, or payment, for a man's soul.\n\nAnd so, although this thought is not part of the original purpose of\nthe miracle, and, therefore, is different from those which I have\nalready been dwelling on, which are part of that purpose, I think we\nmay fairly see here this great truth,--that that which Christ brings\nto us by supernatural act, far greater than the miracle here, is\nenough for all the claims and obligations that God, or man, or law,\nor conscience have upon any of us. His perfect obedience and\nstainless life discharged for Himself all the obligations to law and\nrighteousness under which He came as a Man; His perfect life and His\nmighty death are for us the full discharge of all that can be\nbrought against us.\n\nThere are many and solemn claims and claimants upon each of us. Law\nand duty, that awful 'ought' which should rule our lives and which\nwe have broken thousands of times, come to each of us in many an\nhour of clear vision, and take us by the throat, and say, 'Pay us\nwhat thou owest!' And there is a Judgment Day before all of us;\nwhich is no mere bugbear to frighten children, but will be a fact of\nexperience in our case. Friend! how are you going to meet your\nobligations? You owe God all your love, all your heart, will,\nstrength, service. What an awful score of unpaid debts, with\naccumulated interest, there stands against each of our names! Think\nof some bankrupt sitting in his counting-house with a balance-sheet\nbefore him that shows his hopeless insolvency. He sits and broods,\nand broods, and does not know what in the world he is going to do.\nThe door opens--a messenger enters and gives him an envelope. He\ntears it open, and there flutters out a cheque that more than pays\nit all. The illustration is a very low one; it does not cover the\nwhole ground of Christ's work for you. It puts a possibly commercial\naspect into it, which we have to take care of lest it become the\nexclusive one; but it is true for all that. You are the bankrupt.\nWhat have you to pay? Oh, behold that precious treasure of gold\ntried in the fire, which is Christ's righteousness and Christ's\ndeath; and by faith in Him, '_that_ take and give' and all the\ndebt will be discharged, and you will be set free and made a son by\nthat Son who has taken upon Himself all our bonds, and so has broken\nthem; who has taken upon Himself all our debts, and so has cancelled\nthem every one.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEXPOSITIONS OF HOLY SCRIPTURE\n\nALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.\n\n\nST. MATTHEW\n\n_Chaps. XVIII to XXVIII_\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nTHE LAW OF PRECEDENCE IN THE KINGDOM (Matt. xviii. 1-14)\n\nSELF-MUTILATION FOR SELF-PRESERVATION (Matt. xviii. 8, R.V.)\n\nTHE LOST SHEEP AND THE SEEKING SHEPHERD (Matt. xviii. 12)\n\nTHE PERSISTENCE OF THWARTED LOVE (Matt. xviii. 13; Luke xv. 4)\n\nFORGIVEN AND UNFORGIVING (Matt. xviii. 22)\n\nTHE REQUIREMENTS OF THE KING (Matt. xix. 16-26)\n\nNEAREST TO CHRIST (Matt. xx. 23)\n\nTHE SERVANT-LORD AND HIS SERVANTS (Matt. xx. 28)\n\nWHAT THE HISTORIC CHRIST TAUGHT ABOUT HIS DEATH (Matt. xx. 28)\n\nTHE COMING OF THE KING TO HIS PALACE (Matt. xxi. 1-16)\n\nA NEW KIND OF KING (Matt. xxi. 4, 5)\n\nTHE VINEYARD AND ITS KEEPERS (Matt. xxi. 33-46)\n\nTHE STONE OF STUMBLING (Matt. xxi. 44)\n\nTWO WAYS OF DESPISING GOD'S FEAST (Matt. xxii. 1-14)\n\nTHE TABLES TURNED: THE QUESTIONERS QUESTIONED (Matt. xxii. 34-46)\n\nTHE KING'S FAREWELL (Matt. xxiii. 27-39)\n\nTWO FORMS OF ONE SAYING (Matt. xxiv. 13, R.V.; Luke xxi. 19)\n\nTHE CARRION AND THE VULTURES (Matt. xxiv. 28)\n\nWATCHING FOR THE KING (Matt. xxiv. 42-51)\n\nTHE WAITING MAIDENS (Matt. xxv. 1-13)\n\nDYING LAMPS (Matt. xxv. 8)\n\n'THEY THAT WERE READY' (Matt. xxv. 10)\n\nTRADERS FOR THE MASTER (Matt. xxv. 14-30)\n\nWHY THE TALENT WAS BURIED (Matt. xxv. 24, 25)\n\nTHE KING ON HIS JUDGMENT THRONE (Matt. xxv. 31-46)\n\nTHB DEFENCE OF UNCALCULATING LOVE (Matt. xxvi. 6-16)\n\nTHE NEW PASSOVER (Matt. xxvi. 17-30)\n\n'IS IT I?' (Matt. xxvi. 22, 25; John xiii. 25)\n\n'THIS CUP' (Matt. xxvi. 27, 28)\n\n'UNTIL THAT DAY' (Matt. xxvi. 29)\n\nGETHSEMANE, THE OIL-PRESS (Matt. xxvi. 36-46)\n\nTHE LAST PLEADING OF LOVE (Matt. xxvi. 50)\n\nTHE REAL HIGH PRIEST AND HIS COUNTERFEIT (Matt. xxvi. 57-68)\n\nJESUS CHARGED WITH BLASPHEMY (Matt. xxvi. 35)\n\n'SEE THOU TO THAT!' (Matt. xxvii. 4, 24)\n\nTHE SENTENCE WHICH CONDEMNED THE JUDGES (Matt. xxvii. 11-26)\n\nTHE CRUCIFIXION (Matt. xxvii. 33-50)\n\nTHE BLIND WATCHERS AT THE CROSS (MATT. xxvii. 36)\n\nTAUNTS TURNING TO TESTIMONIES (Matt. xxvii. 41-43)\n\nTHE VEIL RENT (Matt. xxvii. 51)\n\nTHE PRINCE OF LIFE (Matt. xxviii. 1-15)\n\nTHE RISEN LORD'S GREETINGS AND GIFTS (Matt. xxviii. 9; John xx. 19)\n\nON THE MOUNTAIN (Matt. xxviii, 16, 17; 1 Cor. xv. 6)\n\n\n\n\nTHE LAW OF PRECEDENCE IN THE KINGDOM\n\n\n    'At the same time came the disciples unto Jesus,\n    saying, Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?\n    2. And Jesus called a little child unto Him, and set\n    him in the midst of them, 3. And said, Verily I say\n    unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little\n    children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.\n    4. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this\n    little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of\n    heaven. 5. And whoso shall receive one such little\n    child in My name receiveth Me. 6. But whoso shall\n    offend one of these little ones which believe in Me,\n    it were better for him that a millstone were hanged\n    about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth\n    of the sea. 7. Woe unto the world because of offences!\n    for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to\n    that man by whom the offence cometh! 8. Wherefore if\n    thy hand or thy foot offend thee, cut them off, and\n    cast them from thee; it is better for thee to enter\n    into life halt or maimed, rather than having two hands\n    or two feet to be cast into everlasting fire. 9. And\n    if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it\n    from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life\n    with one eye, rather than having two eyes to be cast\n    into hell fire. 10. Take heed that ye despise not one\n    of these little ones; for I say unto you, That in\n    heaven their angels do always behold the face of My\n    Father which is in heaven. 11. For the Son of Man is\n    come to save that which was lost. 12. How think ye? if\n    a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone\n    astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and\n    goeth into the mountains, and seeketh that which is\n    gone astray? 13. And if so be that he find it, verily\n    I say unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep, than\n    of the ninety and nine which went not astray. 14. Even\n    so it is not the will of your Father which is in\n    heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.'\n    --MATT. xviii. 1-14.\n\nMark tells us that the disciples, as they journeyed, had been\nsquabbling about pre-eminence in the kingdom, and that this\nconversation was brought on by our Lord's question as to the subject\nof their dispute. It seems at first sight to argue singular\ninsensibility that the first effect of His reiterated announcement\nof His sufferings should have been their quarrelling for the lead;\nbut their behaviour is intelligible if we suppose that they regarded\nthe half-understood prophecies of His passion as indicating the\ncommencement of the short conflict which was to end in His Messianic\nreign. So it was time for them to be getting ready and settling\nprecedence. The form of their question, in Matthew, connects it with\nthe miracle of the coin in the fish's mouth, in which there was a\nvery plain assertion of Christ's royal dignity, and a distinguishing\nhonour given to Peter. Probably the 'then' of the question means,\nSince Peter is thus selected, are we to look to him as foremost?\nTheir conception of the kingdom and of rank in it is frankly and\nentirely earthly. There are to be graded dignities, and these are to\ndepend on His mere will. Our Lord not only answers the letter of\ntheir question, but cuts at the root of the temper which inspired\nit.\n\nI. He shows the conditions of entrance into and eminence in His\nkingdom by a living example. There were always children at hand\nround Him, when He wanted them. Their quick instinct for pure and\nloving souls drew them to Him; and this little one was not afraid to\nbe taken by the hand, and to be afterwards caught up in His arms,\nand pressed to His heart. One does not wonder that the legend that\nhe was Ignatius the martyr should have been current; for surely the\nremembrance of that tender clasping arm and gentle breast would not\nfade nor be fruitless. The disciples had made very sure that they\nwere to be in the kingdom, and that the only question concerning\nthem was how high up in it they were each to be. Christ's answer is\nlike a dash of cold water to that confidence. It is, in effect,\n'Greatest in the kingdom! Make sure that you go in at all, first;\nwhich you will never do, so long as you keep your present ambitious\nminds.'\n\nVerse 3 lays down the condition of entrance into the kingdom, from\nwhich necessarily follows the condition of supremacy in it. What a\nchild is naturally, and without effort or merit, by reason of age\nand position, we must become, if we are to pass the narrow portal\nwhich admits into the large room. That 'becoming' is impossible\nwithout a revolution in us. 'Be converted' is corrected, in the\nRevised Version, into 'turn,' and rightly; for there is in the word\na distinct reference to the temper of the disciples as displayed by\ntheir question. As long as they cherished it they could not even get\ninside, to say nothing of winning promotion to dignities in the\nkingdom. Their very question condemned them as incapable of\nentrance. So there must be a radical change, not unaccompanied, of\ncourse, with repentance, but mainly consisting in the substitution\nof the child's temper for theirs. What is the temper thus enjoined?\nWe are to see here neither the entirely modern and shallow\nsentimental way of looking at childhood, in which popular writers\nindulge, nor the doctrine of its innocence. It is not Christ's\nteaching, either that children are innocent, or that men enter the\nkingdom by making themselves so. But the child is, by its very\nposition, lowly and modest, and makes no claims, and lives by\ninstinctive confidence, and does not care about honours, and has\nthese qualities which in us are virtues, and is not puffed up by\npossessing them. That is the ideal which is realised more generally\nin the child than analogous ideals are in mature manhood. Such\nsimplicity, modesty, humility, must be ours. We must be made small\nere we can enter that door. And as is the requirement for entrance,\nso is it for eminence. The child does not humble himself, but is\nhumble by nature; but we must humble ourselves if we would be great.\n\nChrist implies that there are degrees in the kingdom. It has a\nnobility, but of such a kind that there may be many greatest; for\nthe principle of rank there is lowliness. We rise by sinking. The\ndeeper our consciousness of our own unworthiness and weakness, the\nmore capable are we of receiving the divine gifts, and therefore the\nmore fully shall we receive them. Rivers run in the hollows; the\nmountain-tops are dry. God works with broken reeds, and the princes\nin His realm are beggars taken from the dunghill. A lowliness which\nmade itself lowly for the sake of eminence would miss its aim, for\nit would not be lowliness. The desire to be foremost must be cast\nout, in order that it may be fulfilled.\n\nII. The question has been answered, and our Lord passes to other\nthoughts rising out of His answer. Verses 5 and 6 set forth\nantithetically our duties to His little ones. He is not now speaking\nof the child who served as a living parable to answer the question,\nbut of men who have made themselves like the child, as is plain from\nthe emphatic 'one _such_ child,' and from verse 6 ('which\n_believe_ on Me').\n\nThe subject, then, of these verses is the blessedness of recognising\nand welcoming Christlike lowly believers, and the fatal effect of\nthe opposite conduct. To 'receive one such little child in My name'\nis just to have a sympathetic appreciation of, and to be ready to\nwelcome to heart and home, those who are lowly in their own and in\nthe world's estimate, but princes of Christ's court and kingdom.\nSuch welcome and furtherance will only be given by one who himself\nhas the same type of character in some degree. He who honours and\nadmires a certain kind of excellence has the roots of it in himself.\nA possible artist lies in him who thrills at the sight or hearing of\nfair things painted or sung. Our admiration is an index of our\naspiration, and our aspiration is a prophecy of our attainment. So\nit will be a little one's heart which will welcome the little ones,\nand a lover of Christ who receives them in His name. The reception\nincludes all forms of sympathy and aid. 'In My name' is equivalent\nto 'for the sake of My revealed character,' and refers both to the\nreceiver and to the received. The blessedness of such reception, so\nfar as the receiver is concerned, is not merely that he thereby\ncomes into happy relations with Christ's foremost servants, but that\nhe gets Christ Himself into his heart. If with true appreciation of\nthe beauty of such a childlike disposition, I open my heart or my\nhand to its possessor, I do thereby enlarge my capacity for my own\npossession of Christ, who dwells in His child, and who comes with\nhim where He is welcomed. There is no surer way of securing Him for\nour own than the loving reception of His children. Whoso lodges the\nKing's favourites will not be left unvisited by the King. To\nrecognise and reverence the greatest in the kingdom is to be oneself\na member of their company, and a sharer in their prerogatives.\n\nOn the other hand, the antithesis of 'receiving' is 'causing to\nstumble,' by which is meant giving occasion for moral fall. That\nwould be done by contests about pre-eminence, by arrogance, by\nnon-recognition. The atmosphere of carnality and selfishness in\nwhich the disciples were moving, as their question showed, would\nstifle the tender life of any lowly believer who found himself in\nit; and they were not only injuring themselves, but becoming\nstumbling-blocks to others, by their ambition. How much of the\npresent life of average Christians is condemned on the same\nground! It is a good test of our Christian character to ask--would\nit help or hinder a lowly believer to live beside us? How many\nprofessing Christians are really, though unconsciously, doing\ntheir utmost to pull down their more Christlike brethren to their\nown low level! The worldliness and selfish ambitions of the Church\nare responsible for the stumbling of many who would else have been\nof Christ's 'little ones.' But perhaps we are rather to think of\ndeliberate and consciously laid stumbling-blocks. Knowingly to try\nto make a good man fall, or to stain a more than usually pure\nChristian character, is surely the very height of malice, and\npresupposes such a deadly hatred of goodness and of Christ that no\nfate can be worse than the possession of such a temper. To be\nflung into the sea, like a dog, with a stone round his neck, would\nbe better for a man than to live to do such a thing. The deed\nitself, apart from any other future retribution, is its own\npunishment; yet our Lord's solemn words not only point to such a\nfuture retribution, which is infinitely more terrible than the\nmiserable fate described would be for the body, but to the\nconsequences of the act, as so bad in its blind hatred of the\nhighest type of character, and in its conscious preference of evil,\nas well as so fatal in its consequences, that it were better to die\ndrowned than to live so.\n\nIII. Verses 10-14 set forth the honour and dignity of Christ's\n'little ones.' Clearly the application of the designation in these\nclosing verses is exclusively to His lowly followers. The warning\nnot to despise them is needed at all times, and, perhaps, seldom\nmore, even by Christians, than now, when so many causes induce a far\ntoo high estimate of the world's great ones, and modest, humble\ngodliness looks as dull and sober as some russet-coated little bird\namong gorgeous cockatoos and birds of paradise. The world's standard\nis only too current in the Church; and it needs a spirit kept in\nharmony with Christ's spirit, and some degree of the child-nature in\nourselves, to preserve us from overlooking the delicate hidden\nbeauties and unworldly greatness of His truest disciples.\n\nThe exhortation is enforced by two considerations,--a glimpse into\nheaven, and a parable. Fair interpretation can scarcely deny that\nChrist here teaches that His children are under angel-guardianship.\nWe should neither busy ourselves in curious inferences from His\nreticent words, nor try to blink their plain meaning, but rather\nmark their connection and purpose here. He has been teaching that\npre-eminence belongs to the childlike spirit. He here opens a door\ninto the court of the heavenly King, and shows us that, as the\nlittle ones are foremost in the kingdom of heaven, so the angels who\nwatch over them are nearest the throne in heaven itself. The\nrepresentation is moulded on the usages of Eastern courts, and\nsimilar language in the Old Testament describes the principal\ncourtiers as 'the men who see the King's face continually.' So high\nis the honour in which the little ones are held, that the highest\nangels are set to guard them, and whatever may be thought of them on\nearth, the loftiest of creatures are glad to serve and keep them.\n\nFollowing the Revised Version we omit verse 11. If it were genuine,\nthe connection would be that such despising contradicted the purpose\nof Christ's mission; and the 'for' would refer back to the\ninjunction, not to the glimpse into heaven which enforced it.\n\nThe exhortation is further confirmed by the parable of the ninety\nand nine, which is found, slightly modified in form and in another\nconnection, in Luke xv. Its point here is to show the importance of\nthe little ones as the objects of the seeking love of God, and as so\nprecious to Him that their recovery rejoices His heart. Of course,\nif verse 11 be genuine, the Shepherd is Christ; but, if we omit it,\nthe application of the parable in verse 14 as illustrating the\nloving will of God becomes more direct. In that case God is the\nowner of the sheep. Christ does not emphasise His own love or share\nin the work, reference to which was not relevant to His purpose,\nbut, leaving that in shadow, casts all the light on the loving\ndivine will, which counts the little ones as so precious that, if\neven one of them wanders, all heaven's powers are sent forth to find\nand recover it. The reference does not seem to be so much to the one\ngreat act by which, in Christ's incarnation and sacrifice, a sinful\nworld has been sought and redeemed, as to the numberless acts by\nwhich God, in His providence and grace, restores the souls of those\nhumble ones if ever they go astray. For the connection requires that\nthe wandering sheep here should, when it wanders, be 'one of these\nlittle ones'; and the parable is introduced to illustrate the truth\nthat, because they belong to that number, the least of them is too\nprecious to God to be allowed to wander away and be lost. They have\nfor their keepers the angels of the presence; they have God Himself,\nin His yearning love and manifold methods of restoration, to look\nfor them, if ever they are lost, and to bring them back to the fold.\nTherefore, 'see that ye despise not one of these little ones,' each\nof whom is held by the divine will in the grasp of an individualising\nlove which nothing can loosen.\n\n\n\n\nSELF-MUTILATION FOR SELF-PRESERVATION\n\n\n    'If thy hand or thy foot causeth thee to stumble, cut\n    it off, and  cast it from  thee.'-MATT. xviii. 8, R.V.\n\nNo person or thing can do our characters as much harm as we\nourselves can do. Indeed, none can do them any harm but ourselves.\nFor men may put stumbling-blocks in our way, but it is we who make\nthem stumbling-blocks. The obstacle in the path would do us no hurt\nif it were not for the erring foot, nor the attractive prize if it\nwere not for the hand that itched to lay hold of it, nor the\nglittering bauble if it were not for the eye that kindled at the\nsight of it. So our Lord here, having been speaking of the men that\nput stumbling-blocks in the way of His little ones, draws the net\ncloser and bids us look at home. A solemn woe of divine judgment is\ndenounced on those who cause His followers to stumble; let us leave\nGod to execute that, and be sure that we have no share in their\nguilt, but let us ourselves be the executioners of the judgment upon\nthe things in ourselves which alone give the stumbling-blocks, which\nothers put before us, their fatal power.\n\nThere is extraordinary energy in these words. Solemnly they are\nrepeated twice here, verbatim; solemnly they are repeated verbatim\nthree times in Mark's edition. The urgent stringency of the command,\nthe terrible plainness of the alternative put forth by the lips that\ncould say nothing harsh, and the fact that the very same injunction\nappears in a wholly different connection in the Sermon on the Mount,\nshow us how profoundly important our Lord felt the principle to be\nwhich He was here laying down.\n\nWe mark these three points. First, the case supposed, 'If thy hand\nor thy foot cause thee to stumble.' Then the sharp, prompt remedy\nenjoined, 'Cut them off and cast them from thee.' Then the solemn\nmotive by which it is enforced, 'It is better for thee to enter into\nlife maimed than, being a whole man, to be cast into hell-fire.'\n\nI. First, then, as to the case supposed.\n\nHand and foot and eye are, of course, regarded as organs of the\ninward self, and symbols of its tastes and capacities. We may\nperhaps see in them the familiar distinction between the practical\nand the theoretical:--hand and foot being instruments of action, and\nthe eye the organ of perception. Our Lord takes an extreme case. If\nmembers of the body are to be amputated and plucked out should they\ncause us to stumble, much more are associations to be abandoned and\noccupations to be relinquished and pleasures to be forsaken, if\nthese draw us away. But it is to be noticed that the whole stringency\nof the commandment rests upon that _if_. '_If_ they cause thee\nto stumble,' then, and not else, amputate. The powers are natural,\nthe operation of them is perfectly innocent, but a man may be ruined\nby innocent things. And, says Christ, if that process is begun, then,\nand only then, does My exhortation come into force.\n\nNow, all that solemn thought of a possible injurious issue of\ninnocent occupations, rests upon the principles that our nature has\nan ideal order, so as that some parts of it are to be suppressed and\nsome are to rule, and that there are degrees of importance in men's\npursuits, and that where the lower interfere and clog the operations\nof the higher, there they are harmful. And so the only wisdom is to\nexcise and cut them off.\n\nWe see illustrations in abundance every day. There are many people\nwho are being ruined in regard to the highest purposes of their\nlives, simply by an over-indulgence in lower occupations which in\nthemselves may be perfectly right. Here is a young woman that spends\nso much of her day in reading novels that she has no time to look\nafter the house and help her mother. Here is a young man so given to\nathletics that his studies are neglected--and so you may go all\nround the circle, and find instances of the way in which innocent\nthings, and the excessive or unwise exercise of natural faculties,\nare destroying men. And much more is that the case in regard to\nreligion, which is the highest object of pursuit, and in regard to\nthose capacities and powers by which we lay hold of God. These are\nto be ministered to by the rest, and if there be in my nature or in\nthe order of my life something which is drawing away to itself the\nenergy that ought to go in that other direction, then, howsoever\ninnocent it may be, _per se_, it is harming me. It is a wen\nthat is sucking all the vital force into itself, and turning it into\npoison. And there is only one cure for it, and that is the knife.\n\nThen there is another point to be observed in this case supposed,\nand that is that the whole matter is left to the determination of\npersonal experience. No one else has the right to decide for you\nwhat it is safe and wise for you to do in regard to things which are\nnot in themselves wrong. If they are wrong in themselves, of course\nthe consideration of consequences is out of place altogether; but if\nthey be not wrong in themselves, then it is you that must settle\nwhether they are legitimate for you or not. Do not let your\nChristian liberty be interfered with by other people's dictation in\nregard to this matter. How often you hear people say, _'I_\ncould not do it'; meaning thereby, 'therefore _he_ ought not to\ndo it!' But that inference is altogether illegitimate. True, there\nare limitations of our Christian liberty in regard to things\nindifferent and innocent. Paul lays down the most important of these\nin three sentences. 'All things are lawful for me, but all things\nare not expedient.' 'All things are lawful for me, but all things\nedify not';--you must think of your brethren as well as of yourself.\n'All things are lawful for me, yet will I not be brought under the\npower of any'; keep master of them, and rather abstain altogether\nthan become their slave. But these three limitations being observed,\nthen, in regard to all such matters, nobody else can prescribe for\nyou or me. 'To his own Master he standeth or falleth.'\n\nBut, on the other hand, do not you be led away into things that\ndamage you, because some other man does them, as he supposes,\nwithout injury. 'Happy is he that condemneth not himself in that\nthing which he alloweth.' There are some Christian people who are\nsimply very unscrupulous and think themselves very strong; and whose\nconsciences are not more enlightened, but less sensitive, than those\nof the 'narrow-minded brethren' upon whom they look askance.\n\nAnd so, dear friend, you ought to take the world--to inhale it, if I\nmay so say, as patients do chloroform; only you must be your own\ndoctor and keep your own fingers on your pulse, and watch the first\nsign of failure there, and take no more. When the safety lamps begin\nto burn blue you may be quite sure there is choke-damp about; and\nwhen Christian men and women begin to find prayer wearisome, and\nreligious thoughts dull, and the remembrance of God an effort or a\npain, then, whatever anybody else may do, it is time for them to\npull up. 'If thy hand offend thee,' never mind though your brother's\nhand is not offending him, do the necessary thing for your health,\n'cut it off and cast it from you.'\n\nBut of course there must be caution and common-sense in the\napplication of such a principle. It does not mean that we are to\nabandon all things that are susceptible of abuse, for everything is\nso; and if we are to regulate our conduct by such a rule, it is not\nthe amputation of a hand that will be sufficient. We may as well cut\noff our heads at once, and go out of the world altogether; for\neverything is capable of being thus abused.\n\nNor does the injunction mean that unconditionally we are to abandon\nall occupations in which there is danger. It can never be a duty to\nshirk a duty because it is dangerous. And sometimes it is as much a\nChristian man's duty to go into, and to stand in, positions that are\nfull of temptation and danger, as it is a fireman's business to go\ninto a burning house at the risk of suffocation. There were saints\nin Caesar's household, flowers that grew on a dunghill, and they\nwere not bidden to abandon their place because it was full of\npossible danger to their souls. Sometimes Christ sets His sentinels\nin places where the bullets fly very thick; and if we are posted in\nsuch a place--and we all are so some time or other in our lives--the\nonly course for us is to stand our ground until the relieving guard\ncomes, and to trust that He said a truth that was always to be true,\nwhen He sent out His servants to their dangerous work, with the\nassurance that if they drank any deadly thing it should not hurt\nthem.\n\nII. So much, then, for the first of the points here. Now a word, in\nthe second place, as to the sharp remedy enjoined.\n\n'Cut it off and cast it from thee.' Entire excision is the only\nsafety. I myself am to be the operator in that surgery. I am to lay\nmy hand upon the block, and with the other hand to grasp the axe and\nstrike. That is to say, we are to suppress capacities, to abandon\npursuits, to break with associates, when we find that they are\ndamaging our spiritual life and hindering our likeness to Jesus\nChrist.\n\nThat is plain common-sense. In regard to physical intoxication, it\nis a great deal easier to abstain altogether than to take a very\nlittle and then stop. The very fumes of alcohol will sometimes drive\na reclaimed drunkard into a bout of dissipation that will last for\nweeks; therefore, the only safety is in entire abstinence. The rule\nholds in regard to everyday life. Every man has to give up a great\nmany things if he means to succeed in one, and has to be a man of\none pursuit if anything worth doing is to be done. Christian men\nespecially have to adopt that principle, and shear off a great deal\nthat is perfectly legitimate, in order that they may keep a reserve\nof strength for the highest things.\n\nTrue, all forms of life are capable of being made Christian service\nand Christian discipline, but in practice we shall find that if we\nare earnestly seeking the kingdom of God and His righteousness, not\nonly shall we lose our taste for a great deal that is innocent, but\nwe shall have, whether we lose our taste for them or not--and more\nimperatively if we have not lost our taste for them than if we have--to\ngive up allowable things in order that with all our heart, and soul,\nand strength, and mind, we may love and serve our Master. There are no\nhalf-measures to be kept; the only thing to do with the viper is to\nshake it off into the fire and let it burn there. We have to empty our\nhands of earth's trivialities if we would grasp Christ with them. We\nhave to turn away our eyes from earth if we would behold the Master,\nand rigidly to apply this principle of excision in order that we may\nadvance in the divine life. It is the only way to ensure progress.\nThere is no such certain method of securing an adequate flow of sap\nup the trunk as to cut off all the suckers. If you wish to have a\ncurrent going down the main bed of the stream, sufficient to keep it\nclear, you must dam up all the side channels.\n\nBut it is not to be forgotten that this commandment, stringent and\nnecessary as it is, is second best. The man is maimed, although it\nwas for Christ's sake that he cut off his hand, or put out his eye.\nHis hand was given him that with it he might serve God, and the\nhighest thing would have been that in hand and foot and eye he\nshould have been anointed, like the priests of old, for the service\nof his Master. But until he is strong enough to use the faculty for\nGod, the wisest thing is not to use it at all. Abandon the outworks\nto keep the citadel. And just as men pull down the pretty houses on\nthe outskirts of a fortified city when a siege is impending, in order\nthat they may afford no cover to the enemy, so we have to sweep away\na great deal in our lives that is innocent and fair, in order that\nthe foes of our spirit may find no lodgment there. It is second best,\nbut for all that it is absolutely needful. We must lay 'aside every\n_weight_,' as well as 'the _sin_ which so easily besets us.' We\nmust run lightly if we would run well. We must cast aside all burdens,\neven though they be burdens of treasure and delights, if we would 'run\nwith patience the race that is set before us.' 'If thy foot offend\nthee,' do not hesitate, do not adopt half-measures, do not try\nmoderation, do not seek to sanctify the use of the peccant member;\nall these may be possible and right in time, but for the present there\nis only one thing to do--down with it on the block, and off with it!\n'Cut it off and cast it from thee.'\n\nIII. And now, lastly, a word as to the solemn exhortation by which\nthis injunction is enforced.\n\nChrist rests His command of self-denial and self-mutilation upon the\nhighest ground of self-interest. 'It is better for thee.' We are\ntold nowadays that this is a very low motive to appeal to, that\nChristianity is a religion of selfishness, because it says to men,\n'Your life or your death depends upon your faith and your conduct.'\nWell, I think it will be time for us to listen to fantastic\nobjections of this sort when the men that urge them refuse to turn\ndown another street, if they are warned that in the road on which\nthey are going they will meet their death. As long as they admit\nthat it is a wise and a kind thing to say to a man, 'Do not go that\nway or your life will be endangered,' I think we may listen to our\nMaster saying to us, 'Do not do that lest thou perish; do this, that\nthou may'st enter into life.'\n\nAnd then, notice that a maimed man may enter into life, and a\ncomplete man may perish. The first may be a very poor creature, very\nignorant, with a limited nature, undeveloped capacities, intellect\nand the like all but dormant in him, artistic sensibilities quite\natrophied, and yet he may have got hold of Jesus Christ and His\nlove, and be trying to love Him back again and serve Him, and so be\nentering into life even here, and be sure of a life more perfect\nyonder. And the complete man, cultured all round, with all his\nfaculties polished and exercised to the full, may have one side of\nhis nature undeveloped--that which connects him with God in Christ.\nAnd so he may be like some fair tree that stands out there in the\nopen, on all sides extending its equal beauty, with its stem\nsymmetrical, cylindrical, perfect in its green cloud of foliage, yet\nthere may be a worm at the root of it, and it may be given up to\nrottenness and destruction. Cultivated men may perish, and\nuncultured men may have the life. The maimed man may touch Christ\nwith his stump, and so receive life, and the complete man may lay\nhold of the world and the flesh and the devil with his hands, and so\nshare in their destruction.\n\nAy! and in that case the maimed man has the best of it. It is a very\nplain axiom of the rudest common-sense, this of my text: 'It is\nbetter for thee to enter into life maimed, than to go into hell-fire\nwith both thy hands.' That is to say, it is better to live maimed\nthan to die whole. A man comes into a hospital with gangrene in his\nleg; the doctor says it must come off; the man says, 'It shall not,'\nand he is dead to-morrow. Who is the fool--the man that says, 'Here,\nthen, cut away; better life than limb,' or the man that says, 'I\nwill keep it and I will die'?\n\n'Better to enter into life maimed,' because you will not always be\nmaimed. The life will overcome the maiming. There is a wonderful\nrestoration of capacities and powers that have been sacrificed for\nChrist's sake, a restoration even here. As crustaceans will develop\na new claw in place of one that they have thrown off in their peril\nto save their lives, so we, if we have for Christ's sake maimed\nourselves, will find that in a large measure the suppression will be\nrecompensed even here on earth.\n\nAnd hereafter, as the Rabbis used to say, 'No man will rise from the\ngrave a cripple.' All the limitations which we have imposed upon\nourselves, for Christ's sake, will be removed then. 'Then shall the\neyes of the blind be opened, and the ears of the deaf be unstopped;\nthen shall the lame man leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb\nshall sing.' 'Verily I say unto thee, there is no man that hath left\nany' of his possessions, affections, tastes, capacities, 'for My\nsake but he shall receive a hundredfold more in this life, and in\nthe world to come, life everlasting.' No man is a loser by giving up\nanything for Jesus Christ.\n\nAnd, on the other hand, the complete man, complete in everything\nexcept his spiritual nature, is a fragment in all his completeness;\nand yonder, there will for him be a solemn process of stripping.\n'Take it from him, and give it to him that hath ten talents.' Ah!\nhow much of that for which some of you are flinging away Jesus\nChrist will fade from you when you go yonder. 'His glory shall not\ndescend after him'; 'as he came, so shall he go.' 'Tongues, they\nshall cease; knowledge, it shall vanish away'; gifts will fail,\ncapacities will disappear when the opportunities for the exercise of\nthem in a material world are at an end, and there will be little\nleft to the man who _would_ carry hands and feet and eyes all\ninto the fire and forgot the 'one thing needful,' but a thin thread,\nif I may so say, of personality quivering with the sense of\nresponsibility, and preyed upon by the gnawing worm of a too-late\nremorse.\n\nMy brother, the lips of Incarnate Love spoke those solemn words of\nmy text, which it becomes not me to repeat to you as if they were\nmine; but I ask you to weigh this, His urgent commandment, and to\nlisten to His solemn assurance, by which He enforces the wisdom of\nthe self-suppression: 'It is better for thee to enter into life\nmaimed, than having two hands, to be cast into hell-fire.'\n\nGive your hearts to Jesus Christ, and set the following in His\nfootsteps and the keeping of His commandments high above all other\naims. You will have to suppress much and give up much, but such\nsuppression is the shortest road to becoming perfect men, complete\nin Him, and such surrender is the surest way to possess all things.\n'He that loseth his life'--which is more than hand or eye--for\nChrist's sake,' the same shall find it.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE LOST SHEEP AND THE SEEKING SHEPHERD\n\n\n    If a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone\n    astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and\n    goeth Into the mountains, and seeketh that which is\n    gone astray!--MATT. xviii. 12.\n\nWe find this simple parable, or germ of a parable, in a somewhat more\nexpanded form, as the first of the incomparable three in the fifteenth\nchapter of Luke's Gospel. Perhaps our Lord repeated the parable more\nthan once. It is an unveiling of His inmost heart, and therein a\nrevelation of the very heart of God. It touches the deepest things in\nHis relation to men, and sets forth thoughts of Him, such as man never\ndared to dream. It does all this by the homeliest image and by an\nappeal to the simplest instincts. The most prosaic shepherd looks for\nlost sheep, and everybody has peculiar joy over lost things found.\nThey may not be nearly so valuable as things that were not lost. The\nunstrayed may be many, and the strayed be but one. Still there is a\nkeener joy in the recovery of the one than in the unbroken possession\nof the ninety-and-nine. That feeling in a man may be only selfishness,\nbut homely as it is--when the loser is God, and the lost are men, it\nbecomes the means of uttering and illustrating that truth concerning\nGod which no religion but that of the Cross has ever been bold enough\nto proclaim, that He cares most for the wanderers, and rejoices over the\nreturn of the one that went astray more than over the ninety-and-nine\nwho never wandered.\n\nThere are some significant differences between this edition of the\nparable and the form which it assumes in the Gospel according to\nLuke. There it is spoken in vindication of Christ's consorting with\npublicans and sinners; here it is spoken in order to point the\nlesson of not despising the least and most insignificant of the sons\nof men. There the seeking Shepherd is obviously Christ; here the\nseeking Shepherd is rather the Divine Father; as appears by the\nwords of the next verse: 'For it is not the will of your Father\nwhich is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.'\nThere the sheep is lost; here the sheep goes astray. There the\nShepherd seeks till He find, here the Shepherd, perhaps, fails to\nfind; for our Lord says, '_If so be_ that he find it.'\n\nBut I am not about to venture on all the thoughts which this parable\nsuggests, nor even to deal with the main lesson which it teaches. I\nwish merely to look at the two figures--the wanderer and the seeker.\n\nI. First, then, let us look at that figure of the one wanderer.\n\nOf course I need scarcely remind you that in the immediate\napplication of the parable in Luke's Gospel, the ninety-and-nine\nwere the respectable people who thought the publicans and harlots\naltogether too dirty to touch, and regarded it as very doubtful\nconduct on the part of this young Rabbi from Nazareth to be mixed up\nwith persons whom no one with a proper regard for whited sepulchres\nwould have anything to do with. To them He answers, in effect--I am\na shepherd; that is my vindication. Of course a shepherd goes after\nand cares for the lost sheep. He does not ask about its worth, or\nanything else. He simply follows the lost because it is lost. It may\nbe a poor little creature after all, but it is lost, and that is\nenough. And so He vindicates Himself to the ninety-and-nine: 'You do\nnot need Me, you are found. I take you on your own estimation of\nyourselves, and tell you that My mission is to the wanderers.'\n\nI do not suppose, however, that any of us have need to be reminded\nthat upon a closer and deeper examination of the facts of the case,\nevery hoof of the ninety-and-nine belonged to a stray sheep too; and\nthat in the wider application of the parable _all_ men are\nwanderers. Remembering, then, this universal application, I would\npoint out two or three things about the condition of these strayed\nsheep, which include the whole race. The ninety-and-nine may shadow\nfor us a number of beings, in unfallen worlds, immensely greater\nthan even the multitudes of wandering souls that have lived here\nthrough weary ages of sin and tears, but that does not concern us\nnow.\n\nThe first thought I gather from the parable is that all men are\nChrist's sheep. That sounds a strange thing to say. What? all these\nmen and women who, having run away from Him, are plunged in sin,\nlike sheep mired in a black bog, the scoundrels and the profligates,\nthe scum and the outcasts of great cities; people with narrow\nforeheads, and blighted, blasted lives, the despair of our modern\ncivilisation--are they all His? And in those great wide-lying\nheathen lands where men know nothing of His name and of His love,\nare they all His too? Let Him answer, 'Other sheep I have'--though\nthey look like goats to-day--'which are not of this fold, them also\nmust I bring, and they shall hear My voice.' All men are Christ's,\nbecause He has been the Agent of divine creation, and the grand\nwords of the hundredth Psalm are true about Him. 'It is He that hath\nmade us, and we are His. We are His people and the sheep of His\npasture.' They are His, because His sacrifice has bought them for\nHis. Erring, straying, lost, they still belong to the Shepherd.\n\nNotice next, the picture of the sheep as wandering. The word is,\nliterally, 'which _goeth_ astray,' not 'which is gone astray.'\nIt pictures the process of wandering, not the result as accomplished.\nWe see the sheep, poor, silly creature, not going anywhere in\nparticular, only there is a sweet tuft of grass here, and it crops\nthat; and here is a bit of ground where there is soft walking, and it\ngoes there; and so, step by step, not meaning anything, not knowing\nwhere it is going, or that it _is_ going anywhere; it goes, and\ngoes, and goes, and at last it finds out that it is away from its\nbeat on the hillside--for sheep keep to one bit of hillside generally,\nas any shepherd will tell you--and then it begins to bleat, and most\nhelpless of creatures, fluttering and excited, rushes about amongst\nthe thorns and brambles, or gets mired in some quag or other, and it\nwill never find its way back of itself until some one comes for it.\n\n'So,' says Christ to us, 'there are a great many of you who do not\nmean to go wrong; you are not going anywhere in particular, you do\nnot start on your course with any intentions either way, of doing\nright or wrong, of keeping near God, or going away from Him, but you\nsimply go where the grass is sweetest, or the walking easiest. But\nlook at the end of it; where you have got to. You have got away from\nHim.'\n\nNow, if you take that series of parables in Luke xv., and note the\nmetaphors there, you will see three different sides given of the\nprocess by which men's hearts stray away from God. There is the\nsheep that wanders. That is partly conscious, and voluntary, but in\na large measure simply yielding to inclination and temptation. Then\nthere is the coin that trundles away under some piece of furniture,\nand is lost--that is a picture of the manner in which a man, without\nvolition, almost mechanically sometimes, slides into sins and\ndisappears as it were, and gets covered over with the dust of evil.\nAnd then there is the worst of all, the lad that had full knowledge\nof what he was doing. 'I am going into a far-off country; I cannot\nstand this any longer--all restraint and no liberty, and no power of\ndoing what I like with my own; and always obliged to obey and be\ndependent on my father for my pocket-money! Give me what belongs to\nme, for good and all, and let me go!' That is the picture of the\nworst kind of wandering, when a man knows what he is about, and\nlooks at the merciful restraint of the law of God, and says: 'No! I\nhad rather be far away; and my own master, and not always be\n\"cribbed, cabined, and confined\" with these limitations.'\n\nThe straying of the half-conscious sheep may seem more innocent, but\nit carries the poor creature away from the shepherd as completely as\nif it had been wholly intelligent and voluntary. Let us learn the\nlesson. In a world like this, if a man does not know very clearly\nwhere he is going, he is sure to go wrong. If you do not exercise a\ndistinct determination to do God's will, and to follow in His\nfootsteps who has set us an example; and if your main purpose is to\nget succulent grass to eat and soft places to walk in, you are\ncertain before long to wander tragically from all that is right and\nnoble and pure. It is no excuse for you to say: 'I never meant it';\n'I did not intend any harm, I only followed my own inclinations.'\n'More mischief is wrought'--to the man himself, as well as to other\npeople--'from want of thought than is wrought by' an evil will. And\nthe sheep has strayed as effectually, though, when it set out on its\njourney, it never thought of straying. Young men and women beginning\nlife, remember! and take this lesson.\n\nBut then there is another point that I must touch for a moment. In\nthe Revised Version you will find a very tiny alteration in the\nwords of my text, which, yet, makes a large difference in the sense.\nThe last clause of my text, as it stands in our Bible, is, 'And\nseeketh that which is _gone_ astray'; the Revised Version more\ncorrectly reads, 'And seeketh that which _is going_ astray.'\nNow, look at the difference in these two renderings. In the former\nthe process is represented as finished, in the correct rendering it\nis represented as going on. And that is what I would press on you,\nthe awful, solemn, necessarily progressive character of our\nwanderings from God. A man never gets to the end of the distance\nthat separates between him and the Father, if his face is turned\naway from God. Every moment the separation is increasing. Two lines\nstart from each other at the acutest angle and diverge more the\nfurther they are produced, until at last the one may be away up by\nthe side of God's throne, and the other away down in the deepest\ndepths of hell. So accordingly my text carries with solemn pathos,\nin a syllable, the tremendous lesson: 'The sheep is not gone, but\n_going_ astray.' Ah! there are some of my hearers who are daily\nand hourly increasing the distance between themselves and their\nmerciful Father.\n\nNow the last thing here in this picture is the contrast between the\ndescription given of the wandering sheep in our text, and that in\nSt. Luke. Here it is represented as wandering, there it is\nrepresented as lost. That is very beautiful and has a meaning often\nnot noticed by hasty readers. Who is it that has lost it? We talk\nabout the lost soul and the lost man, as if it were the man that had\nlost _himself_, and that is true, and a dreadful truth it is.\nBut that is not the truth that is taught in this parable, and meant\nby us to be gathered from it. Who is it that has lost it? He to whom\nit belonged.\n\nThat is to say, wherever a heart gets ensnared and entangled with\nthe love of the treasures and pleasures of this life, and so departs\nin allegiance and confidence and friendship from the living God,\nthere God the Father regards Himself as the poorer by the loss of\none of His children, by the loss of one of His sheep. He does not\ncare to possess you by the hold of mere creation and supremacy and\nrule. He desires you to love Him, and then He deems that He has you.\nAnd if you do not love Him, He deems that He has lost you. There is\nsomething in the divine heart that goes out after His lost property.\nWe touch here upon deep things that we cannot speak of intelligently;\nonly remember this, that what looks like self-regard in man is the\npurest love in God, and that there is nothing in the whole revelation\nwhich Christianity makes of the character of God more wonderful than\nthis, that He judges that He has lost His child when His child has\nforgotten to love Him.\n\nII. So much, then, for one of the great pictures in this text. I can\nspare but a sentence or two for the other--the picture of the\nSeeker.\n\nI said that in the one form of the parable it was more distinctly\nthe Father, and in the other more distinctly the Son, who is\nrepresented as seeking the sheep. But these two do still coincide in\nsubstance, inasmuch as God's chief way of seeking us poor wandering\nsheep is through the work of His dear Son Jesus, and the coming of\nChrist is the Father's searching for His sheep in the 'cloudy and\ndark day.'\n\nAccording to my text God leaves the ninety-and-nine and goes into\nthe mountains where the wanderer is, and seeks him. And this,\ncouched in veiled form, is the great mystery of the divine love, the\nincarnation and sacrifice of Jesus Christ our Lord. Here is the\nanswer by anticipation to the sarcasm that is often levelled at\nevangelical Christianity: 'You must think a good deal of human\nnature, and must have a very arrogant notion of the inhabitant of\nthis little speck that floats in the great sea of the heavens, if\nyou suppose that with all these millions of orbs he is so important\nthat the divine Nature came down upon this little tiny molehill, and\ntook his nature and died.'\n\n'Yes!' says Christ, 'not because man was so great, not because man\nwas so valuable in comparison with the rest of creation--he was but\none amongst ninety-nine unfallen and unsinful--but because he was so\nwretched, because he was so small, because he had gone so far away\nfrom God; _therefore_, the seeking love came after him, and\nwould draw him to itself.' That, I think, is answer enough to the\ncavil.\n\nAnd then, there is a difference between these two versions of the\nParable in respect to their representation of the end of the seeking.\nThe one says 'seeks until He finds.' Oh! the patient, incredible\ninexhaustibleness of the divine love. God's long-suffering, if I may\ntake such a metaphor, like a sleuth-hound, will follow the object\nof its search through all its windings and doublings, until it comes\nup to it. So that great seeking Shepherd follows us through all the\ndevious courses of our wayward, wandering footsteps doubling back\nupon themselves, until He finds us. Though the sheep may increase its\ndistance, the Shepherd follows. The further away we get the more\ntender His appeal; the more we stop our ears the louder the voice\nwith which He calls. You cannot wear out Jesus Christ, you cannot\nexhaust the resources of His bounteousness, of His tenderness.\nHowever we may have been going wrong, however far we may have\nbeen wandering, however vehemently we may be increasing, at every\nmoment, our distance from Him, He is coming after us, serene, loving,\nlong-suffering, and will not be put away.\n\nDear friend! would you only believe that a loving, living Person is\nreally seeking you, seeking you by my poor words now, seeking you by\nmany a providence, seeking you by His Gospel, by His Spirit; and\nwill never be satisfied till He has found you in your finding Him\nand turning your soul to Him!\n\nBut, I beseech you, do not forget the solemn lesson drawn from the\nother form of the parable which is given in my text: _If so be\nthat He find it_. There is a possibility of failure. What an\nawful power you have of burying yourself in the sepulchre, as it\nwere, of your own self-will, and hiding yourself in the darkness of\nyour own unbelief! You can frustrate the seeking love of God. Some\nof you have done so--some of you have done so all your lives. Some\nof you, perhaps at this moment, are trying to do so, and consciously\nendeavouring to steel your hearts against some softening that may\nhave been creeping over them whilst I have been speaking. Are you\nyielding to His seeking love, or wandering further and further from\nHim? He has come to find you. Let Him not seek in vain, but let the\nGood Shepherd draw you to Himself, where, lifted on the Cross, He\n'giveth His life for the sheep.' He will restore your soul and carry\nyou back on His strong shoulder, or in His bosom near His loving\nheart, to the green pastures and the safe fold. There will be joy in\nHis heart, more than over those who have never wandered; and there\nwill be joy in the heart of the returning wanderer, such as they who\nhad not strayed and learned the misery could never know, for, as the\nprofound Jewish saying has it, 'In the place where the penitents\nstand, the perfectly righteous cannot stand.'\n\n\n\n\nPERSISTENCE OF THWARTED LOVE\n\n\n    'If so be that he find it.'--MATT. xviii. 13.\n\n    'Until he find it.'--LUKE xv. 4.\n\nLike other teachers, Jesus seems to have had favourite points of\nview and utterances which came naturally to His lips. There are\nseveral instances in the gospels of His repeating the same sayings\nin entirely different connections and with different applications.\nOne of these habitual points of view seems to have been the thought\nof men as wandering sheep, and of Himself as the Shepherd. The\nmetaphor has become so familiar that we need a moment's reflection\nto grasp the mingled tenderness, sadness, and majesty of it. He\nthought habitually of all humanity as a flock of lost sheep, and of\nHimself as high above them, unparticipant of their evil, and having\none errand--to bring them back.\n\nAnd not only does He frequently refer to this symbol, but we have\nthe two editions, from which my texts are respectively taken, of the\nParable of the Lost Sheep. I say two editions, because it seems to\nme a great deal more probable that Jesus should have repeated\nHimself than that either of the Evangelists should have ventured to\ntake this gem and set it in an alien setting. The two versions\ndiffer slightly in some unimportant expressions, and Matthew's is\nthe more condensed of the two. But the most important variation is\nthe one which is brought to light by the two fragments which I have\nventured to isolate as texts. '_If_ He find' implies the\npossible failure of the Shepherd's search; '_till_ He find'\nimplies His unwearied persistence in the teeth of all failure. And,\ntaken in conjunction, they suggest some very blessed and solemn\nconsiderations, which I pray for strength to lay upon your minds and\nhearts now.\n\nI. But first let me say a word or two upon the more general thought\nbrought out in both these clauses--of the Shepherd's search.\n\nNow, beautiful and heart-touching as that picture is, of the\nShepherd away amongst the barren mountains searching minutely in\nevery ravine and thicket, it wants a little explanation in order to\nbe brought into correspondence with the fact which it expresses. For\nHis search for His lost property is not in ignorance of where it is,\nand His finding of it is not His discovery of His sheep, but its\ndiscovery of its Shepherd. We have to remember wherein consists the\nloss before we can understand wherein consists the search.\n\nNow, if we ask ourselves that question first, we get a flood of\nlight on the whole matter. The great hundredth Psalm, according to\nits true rendering, says, 'It is He that hath made us, _and we are\nHis_;  ... we are ... the sheep of His pasture.' But God's true\npossession of man is not simply the possession inherent in the act\nof creation. For there is only one way in which spirit can own\nspirit, or heart can possess heart, and that is through the\nvoluntary yielding and love of the one to the other. So Jesus\nChrist, who, in all His seeking after us men, is the voice and hand\nof Almighty Love, does not count that He has found a man until the\nman has learned to love Him. For He loses us when we are alienated\nfrom Him, when we cease to trust Him, when we refuse to obey Him,\nwhen we will not yield to Him, but put Him far away from us.\nTherefore the search which, as being Christ's is God's in Christ, is\nfor our love, our trust, our obedience; and in reality it consists\nof all the energies by which Jesus Christ, as God's embodiment and\nrepresentative, seeks to woo and win you and me back to Himself,\nthat He may truly possess us.\n\nIf the Shepherd's seeking is but a tender metaphor for the whole\naggregate of the ways by which the love that is divine and human in\nJesus Christ moves round about our closed hearts, as water may feel\nround some hermetically sealed vessel, seeking for an entrance, then\nsurely the first and chiefest of them, which makes its appeal to each\nof us as directly as to any man that ever lived, is that great mystery\nthat Jesus Christ, the eternal Word of God, left the ninety-and-nine\nthat were safe on the high pastures of the mountains of God, and came\ndown among us, out into the wilderness, 'to seek and to save that\nwhich was lost.'\n\nAnd, brother, that method of winning--I was going to say, of\n_earning_--our love comes straight in its appeal to every\nsingle soul on the face of the earth. Do not say that thou wert not\nin Christ's heart and mind when He willed to be born and willed to\ndie. Thou, and thou, and thou, and every single unit of humanity\nwere there clear before Him in their individuality; and He died for\nthee, and for me, and for _every_ man. And, in one aspect, that\nis more than to say that He died for _all_ men. There was a\nspecific intention in regard to each of us in the mission of Jesus\nChrist; and when He went to the Cross the Shepherd was not giving\nHis life for a confused flock of which He knew not the units, but\nfor sheep the face of each of whom He knows, and each of whom He\nloves. There was His first seeking; there is His chief seeking.\nThere is the seeking which ought to appeal to every soul of man, and\nwhich, ever since you were children, has been making its appeal to\nyou. Has it done so in vain? Dear friend, let not your heart still\nbe hard.\n\nHe seeks us by every record of that mighty love that died for us,\neven when it is being spoken as poorly, and with as many limitations\nand imperfections, as I am speaking it now. 'As though God did\nbeseech you by us, pray you in Christ's stead.' It is not arrogance,\nGod forbid! it is simple truth when I say, Never mind about me; but\nmy word, in so far as it is true and tender, is Christ's word to\nyou. And here, in our midst, that unseen Form is passing along these\npews and speaking to these hearts, and the Shepherd is seeking His\nsheep.\n\nHe seeks each of us by the inner voices and emotions in our hearts\nand minds, by those strange whisperings which sometimes we hear, by\nthe suddenly upstarting convictions of duty and truth which sometimes,\nwithout manifest occasion, flash across our hearts. These voices are\nChrist's voice, for, in a far deeper sense than most men superficially\nbelieve, 'He is the true Light that lighteth every man coming into\nthe world.'\n\nHe is seeking us by our unrest, by our yearnings after we know not\nwhat, by our dim dissatisfaction which insists upon making itself\nfelt in the midst of joys and delights, and which the world fails to\nsatisfy as much as it fails to interpret. There is a cry in every\nheart, little as the bearer of the heart translates it into its true\nmeaning--a cry after God, even the living God. And by all your\nunrests, your disappointments, your hopes unfulfilled, your hopes\nfulfilled and blasted in the fulfilment, your desires that perish\nunfruited; by all the mystic movements of the spirit that yearns for\nsomething beyond the material and the visible, Jesus Christ is\nseeking His sheep.\n\nHe seeks us by the discipline of life, for I believe that Christ is\nthe active Providence of God, and that the hands that were pierced\non the Cross do move the wheels of the history of the world, and\nmould the destinies of individual spirits.\n\nThe deepest meaning of all life is that we should be won to seek Him\nwho in it all is seeking us, and led to venture our hopes, and fling\nthe anchor of our faith beyond the bounds of the visible, that it\nmay fasten in the Eternal, even in Christ Himself, 'the same\nyesterday and to-day and for ever' when earth and its training are\ndone with. Brethren, it is a blessed thing to live, when we\ninterpret life's smallnesses aright as the voice of the Master, who,\nby them all--our sadness and our gladness, the unrest of our hearts\nand the yearnings and longings of our spirits, by the ministry of\nHis word, by the record of His sufferings--is echoing the invitation\nof the Cross itself, 'Come unto Me, all ye ... and I will give you\nrest!' So much for the Shepherd's search.\n\nII. And now, in the second place, a word as to the possible\nthwarting of the search.\n\n'If so be that He find.' That is an awful _if_, when we think\nof what lies below it. The thing seems an absurdity when it is\nspoken, and yet it is a grim fact in many a life--viz. that Christ's\neffort can fail and be thwarted. Not that His search is perfunctory\nor careless, but that we shroud ourselves in darkness through which\nthat love can find no way. It is we, not He, that are at fault when\nHe fails to find that which He seeks. There is nothing more certain\nthan that God, and Christ the image of God, desire the rescue of\nevery man, woman, and child of the human race. Let no teaching blur\nthat sunlight fact. There is nothing more certain than that Jesus\nChrist has done, and is doing, all that He can do to secure that\npurpose. If He could make every man love Him, and so find every man,\nbe sure that He would do it. But He cannot. For here is the central\nmystery of creation, which if we could solve there would be few\nknots that would resist our fingers, that a finite will like yours\nor mine can lift itself up against God, and that, having the\ncapacity, it has the desire. He says, 'Come!' We say, 'I will not.'\nThat door of the heart opens from within, and He never breaks it\nopen. He stands at the door and knocks. And then the same solemn\n_if_ comes--'If any man opens, I will come in'; if any man\nkeeps it shut, and holds on to prevent its being opened, I will stop\nout.\n\nBrethren, I seek to press upon you now the one plain truth, that if\nyou are not saved men and women, there is no person in heaven or\nearth or hell that has any blame in the matter but yourself alone.\nGod appeals to us, and says, 'What more _could_ have been done\nto My vineyard that I have not done unto it?' His hands are clean,\nand the infinite love of Christ is free from all blame, and all the\nblame lies at our own doors.\n\nI must not dwell upon the various reasons which lead so many men\namong us--as, alas! the utmost charity cannot but see that there\nare--to turn away from Christ's appeals, and to be unwilling to\n'have this Man' either 'to reign over' them or to save them. There\nare many such, I am sure, in my audience now; and I would fain, if I\ncould, draw them to that Lord in whom alone they have life, and\nrest, and holiness, and heaven.\n\nOne great reason is because you do not believe that you need Him.\nThere is an awful inadequacy in most men's conceptions--and still\nmore in their feelings--as to their sin. Oh dear friends, if you\nwould only submit your consciences for one meditative half-hour to\nthe light of God's highest law, I think you would find out something\nmore than many of you know, as to what you are and what your sin is.\nMany of us do not much believe that we are in any danger. I have\nseen a sheep comfortably cropping the short grass on a down over the\nsea, with one foot out in the air, and a precipice of five hundred\nfeet below it, and at the bottom the crawling water. It did not know\nthat there was any danger of going over. That is like some of us. If\nyou believed what is true--that 'sin when it is finished, bringeth\nforth death,' and understood what 'death' meant, you would feel the\nmercy of the Shepherd seeking you. Some of us think we are in the\nflock when we are not. Some of us do not like submission. Some of us\nhave no inclination for the sweet pastures that He provides, and\nwould rather stay where we are, and have the fare that is going\nthere.\n\nWe do not need to _do_ anything to put Him away. I have no\ndoubt that some of us, as soon as my voice ceases, will plunge again\ninto worldly talk and thoughts before they are down the chapel\nsteps, and so blot out, as well as they can, any vagrant and\nsuperficial impression that may have been made. Dear brethren, it is\na very easy matter to turn away from the Shepherd's voice. 'I\ncalled, and ye refused. I stretched out My hands, and _no man\nregarded_.' That is all! That is what you do, and that is enough.\n\nIII. So, lastly, the thwarted search prolonged.\n\n'Till He find'--that is a wonderful and a merciful word. It\nindicates the infinitude of Christ's patient forgiveness and\nperseverance. _We_ tire of searching. 'Can a mother forget' or\nabandon her seeking after a lost child? Yes! if it has gone on for\nso long as to show that further search is hopeless, she will go home\nand nurse her sorrow in her heart. Or, perhaps, like some poor\nmothers and wives, it will turn her brain, and one sign of her\nmadness will be that, long years after grief should have been calm\nbecause hope was dead, she will still be looking for the little one\nso long lost. But Jesus Christ stands at the closed door, as a great\nmodern picture shows, though it has been so long undisturbedly\nclosed that the hinges are brown with rust, and weeds grow high\nagainst it. He stands there in the night, with the dew on His hair,\nunheeded or repelled, like some stranger in a hostile village\nseeking for a night's shelter. He will not be put away; but, after\nall refusals, still with gracious finger, knocks upon the door, and\nspeaks into the heart. Some of you have refused Him all your lives,\nand perhaps you have grey hairs upon you now. And He is speaking to\nyou still. He 'suffereth long, is not easily provoked, is not soon\nangry; hopeth all things,' even of the obstinate rejecters.\n\nFor that is another truth that this word 'till' preaches to us--viz.\nthe possibility of bringing back those that have gone furthest away\nand have been longest away. The world has a great deal to say about\nincurable cases of moral obliquity and deformity. Christ knows\nnothing about 'incurable cases.' If there is a worst man in the\nworld--and perhaps there is--there is nothing but his own\ndisinclination to prevent his being brought back, and made as pure\nas an angel.\n\nBut do not let us deal with generalities; let us bring the truths to\nourselves. Dear brethren, I know nothing about the most of you. I\nshould not know you again if I met you five minutes after we part\nnow. I have never spoken to many of you, and probably never shall,\nexcept in this public way; but I know that _you_ need Christ,\nand that Christ wants _you_. And I know that, however far you\nhave gone, you have not gone so far but that His love feels out\nthrough the remoteness to grasp you, and would fain draw you to\nitself.\n\nI dare say you have seen upon some dreary moor, or at the foot of\nsome 'scaur' on the hillside, the bleached bones of a sheep, lying\nwhite and grim among the purple heather. It strayed, unthinking of\ndanger, tempted by the sweet herbage; it fell; it vainly bleated; it\ndied. But what if it had heard the shepherd's call, and had\npreferred to lie where it fell, and to die where it lay? We talk\nabout 'silly sheep.' Are there any of them so foolish as men and\nwomen listening to me now, who will not answer the Shepherd's voice\nwhen they hear it, with, 'Lord, here am I, come and help me out of\nthis miry clay, and bring me back.' He is saying to each of you,\n'Turn ye, turn ye, why will ye die?' May He not have to say at last\nof any of us, 'Ye would not come to Me, that ye might have life!'\n\n\n\n\nFORGIVEN AND UNFORGIVING\n\n\n    'Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until\n     seven times; but, Until seventy times seven.'\n     --MATT. xviii. 22.\n\nThe disciples had been squabbling about pre-eminence in the kingdom\nwhich they thought was presently to appear. They had ventured to\nrefer their selfish and ambitious dispute to Christ's arbitrament.\nHe answered by telling them the qualifications of 'the greatest in\nthe kingdom'--that they are to be humble like little children; that\nthey are to be placable; that they are to use all means to reclaim\noffenders; and that, even if the offence is against themselves, they\nare to ignore the personal element, and to regard the offender, not\nso much as having done them harm, as having harmed himself by his\nevil-doing.\n\nPeter evidently feels that that is a very hard commandment for a man\nof his temperament, and so he goes to Jesus Christ for a little\nfurther direction, and proposes a question as to the limits of this\ndisposition: 'How often shall my brother sin?' The very question\nbetrays that he does not understand what forgiveness means; for it\nis not real, if the 'forgiven' sin is stowed away safely in the\nmemory. 'I can forgive, but I cannot forget,' generally means, 'I do\nnot _quite_ forgive.' We are not to take the pardoned offence,\nand carry it to a kind of 'suspense account,' to be revived if\nanother is committed, but we are to blot it out altogether. Peter\nthought that he had given a very wide allowance when he said 'seven\ntimes.' Christ's answer lifts the whole subject out of the realm of\nhard and fast lines and limits, for He takes the two perfect numbers\n'ten' and 'seven,' and multiplies them together, and then He\nmultiplies that by 'seven' once more; and the product is _not_\nfour hundred and ninety, but is innumerableness. He does not mean\nthat the four hundred and ninety-first offence is outside the pale,\nbut He suggests indefiniteness, endlessness. So, as I say, He lifts\nthe question out of the region in which Peter was keeping it,\nthereby betraying that he did not understand what he was talking\nabout, and tells us that there are no limits to the obligation.\n\nThe parable which follows, and follows with a 'therefore,' does not\ndeal so much with Peter's question as to the limits of the\ndisposition, but sets forth its grounds and the nature of its\nmanifestations. If we understand why we ought to forgive, and what\nforgiveness is, we shall not say, 'How often?' The question will\nhave answered itself.\n\nI turn to the parable rather than the words which I have read as our\nstarting-point, to seek to bring out the lessons which it contains\nin regard to our relations to God, and to one another. There are\nthree sections in it: the king and his debtor; the forgiven debtor\nand _his_ debtor; and the forgiven debtor unforgiven because\nunforgiving. And if we look at these three points I think we shall\nget the lessons intended.\n\nI. The king and his debtor.\n\nA certain king has servants, whom he gathers together to give in\ntheir reckoning. And one of them is brought that owes him ten\nthousand talents. Now, it is to be noticed at the very outset that\nthe analogy between debt and sin, though real, is extremely\nimperfect. No metaphor of that sort goes on all fours, and there has\nbeen a great deal of harm done to theology and to evangelical\nreligion by carrying out too completely the analogy between money\ndebts and our sins against God. But although the analogy is\nimperfect, it is very real. The first point that is to be brought\nout in this first part of the parable is the immense magnitude of\nevery man's transgressions against God. Numismatists and\narithmeticians may jangle about the precise amount represented by\nthe thousand talents. It differs according to the talent which is\ntaken as the basis of the calculation. There were several talents in\nuse in the currency of ancient days. But the very point of the\nexpression is not the specification of an exact amount, but the use\nof a round number which is to suggest an undefined magnitude. 'Ten\nthousand talents,' according to one estimate, is some two millions\nand a quarter of pounds sterling.\n\nBut I would point out that the amount is stated in terms of talents,\nand _any_ talent is a large sum; and there are ten thousand of\nthese; and the reason why the account is made out in terms of\ntalents, the largest denomination in the currency of the period, is\nbecause every sin against God is a great sin. He being what He is,\nand we being what we are, and sin being what it is, every sin is\nlarge, although the deed which embodies it may be, when measured by\nthe world's foot-rule, very small. For the essence of sin is\nrebellion against God and the enthroning of self as His victorious\nrival; and all rebellion is rebellion, whether it is found in arms\nin the field, or whether it is simply sulkily refusing obedience and\ncherishing thoughts of treason. We are always apt to go wrong in our\nestimate of the great and small in human actions, and, although the\nterms of magnitude do not apply properly to moral questions at all,\nthere is no more conspicuous misuse of language than when we speak\nof anything which has in it the virus of rebellion against God, and\nthe breach of His law, as being a small sin. It may be a small act;\nit is a great sin. Little rattlesnakes are snakes; they have rattles\nand poison fangs as really as the most monstrous of the brood that\ncoils and hisses in some cave. So the account is made out in terms\nof talents, because every sin is a great one. I need not dwell upon\nthe numerousness that is suggested. 'Ten thousand' is the natural\ncurrent expression for a number that is not innumerable, but is only\nknown to be very great. The psalmist says: 'They are more than the\nhairs of my head.' How many hairs had you in your head, David? Do\nyou know? 'No!' And how many sins have you committed? Do you know?\n'No!' The number is beyond count by us, though it may be counted by\nHim against whom they are done. Do you believe that about yourself,\nmy friend, that the debit side of your account has filled all the\npage and has to be carried forward on to another? Do we any of us\nrealise, as we all of us ought to do, the infinite number, and the\ntranscendent greatness, of our transgressions against the Father?\n\nBut the next point to be noticed is the stern legal right of the\ncreditor. It sounds harsh, cruel, almost brutal, that the man and\nhis wife and his children should be sold into slavery, and all that\nhe had should be taken from him, in order to go some little way\ntowards the reduction of the enormous debt that he owed. Christ puts\nin that harsh and apparently cruel conduct in the story, not to\nsuggest that it was harsh and cruel, but because it was according to\nthe law of the time. A recognised legal right was exercised by the\ncreditor when he said, 'Take him; sell him for a slave, and bring me\nwhat he fetches in the open markets.' So that we have here suggested\nthe solemn thought of the right that divine justice, acting\naccording to strict retributive law, has over each of us. Our own\nconsciences attest it as perfectly within the scope of the divine\nretributive justice that our enormous sin should bring down a\ntremendous punishment.\n\nI said that the analogy between sin and debt was a very imperfect\none. It is imperfect in regard to one point--viz. the implication of\nother people in the consequences of the man's evil; for although it\nis quite true that 'the evil that men do lives after them, and\nspreads far beyond their sight, and involves many people, no other\nis amenable to divine justice for the sinner's debt. It is quite\ntrue that, when we do an evil action, we never can tell how far its\nwind-borne seeds may be carried, or where they may alight, or what\nsort of unwholesome fruit they may bear, or who may be poisoned by\nthem; but, on the other hand, we, and we only, are responsible for\nour individual transgressions against God. 'If thou be wise, thou\nshalt be wise for thyself; and if thou scornest, thou alone shalt\nbear it.'\n\nThe same imperfection in the analogy applies to the next point in the\nparable--viz. the bankrupt debtor's prayer, 'Have patience with me,\nand I will pay thee all.' Easy to promise! I wonder how long it would\nhave taken a penniless bankrupt to scrape together two and a quarter\nmillions of pounds? He said a great deal more than he could make good.\nBut the language of his prayer is by no means the language that\nbecomes a penitent at God's throne. We have not to offer to make\nfuture satisfaction. No! that is impossible. 'What I have written I\nhave written,' and the page, with all its smudges and blots and\nmisshapen letters, cannot be made other than it is by any future\npages fairly written. No future righteousness has any power to affect\nthe guilt of past sin. There is one thing that does _discharge_ the\nwriting from the page. Do you remember Paul's words, 'blotting out\nthe handwriting that was against us--nailing it to His Cross'? You\nsometimes dip your pens into red ink, and run a couple of lines\nacross the page of an account that is done with. Jesus Christ does\nthe same across our account, and the debt is non-existent, because\nHe has died.\n\nBut the prayer is the expression, if not of penitence yet of\npetition, and all the stern rigour of the law's requirement at once\nmelts away, and the king who, in the former words, seemed so harsh,\nnow is almost incredibly merciful. For he not only cancels the debt,\nbut sets the man free. 'Thy ways are not as our ways; ... as the\nheavens are higher than the earth, so great is His mercy toward' the\nsinful soul.\n\nII. So much, then, for the first part of this parable. Now a word as\nto the second, the forgiven debtor and his debt.\n\nOur Lord uses in the 27th and 28th verses of our text the same\nexpression very significantly and emphatically. 'The lord of _that\nservant_ was moved with compassion.' And then again, in the 28th\nverse, 'But that _servant_ went out and found one of his\nfellow-servants.' The repetition of the same phrase hooks the two\nhalves together, emphasises the identity of the man, and the\ndifference of his demeanour, on the two occasions.\n\nThe conduct described is almost impossibly disgusting and truculent.\n'He found his fellow-servant, who owed him a hundred pence'--some\nthree pounds, ten shillings--and with the hands that a minute before\nhad been wrung in agony, and extended in entreaty, he throttled him;\nand with the voice that had been plaintively pleading for mercy a\nminute before, he gruffly growled, 'Pay me that thou owest.' He had\njust come through an agony of experience that might have made him\ntender. He had just received a blessing that might have made his\nheart glow. But even the repetition of his own petition does not\ntouch him, and when the poor fellow-servant, with his paltry debt,\nsays, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all,' it avails\nnothing. He durst not sell his fellow-servant. God's rights over a\nman are more than any man's over another. But he does what he can.\nHe will not do much towards recouping himself of his loan by\nflinging the poor debtor into prison, but if he cannot get his\nducats he will gloat over his 'pound of flesh.' So he hurries him\noff to gaol.\n\nCould a man have done like that? Ah! brethren, the things that would\nbe monstrous in our relations to one another are common in our\nrelations to God. Every day we see, and, alas! do, the very same\nthing, in our measure and degree. Do you never treasure up somebody's\nslights? Do you never put away in a pigeon-hole for safe-keeping,\nendorsed with the doer's name on the back of it, the record of some\ntrivial offence against you? It is but as a penny against a talent,\nfor the worst that any of us can do to another is nothing as compared\nwith what many of us have been doing all our lives toward God. I dare\nsay that some of us will go out from this place, and the next man that\nwe meet that 'rubs us the wrong way,' or does us any harm, we shall\nscore down his act against him with as implacable and unmerciful an\nunforgivingness as that of this servant in the parable. Do not believe\nthat he was a monster of iniquity. He was just like us. We all of us\nhave one human heart, and this man's crime is but too natural to us\nall. The essence of it was that having been forgiven, he did not\nforgive.\n\nSo, then, our Lord here implies the principle that God's mercy to us\nis to set the example to which our dealings with others is to be\nconformed. 'Even as I had mercy on thee' plainly proposes that\nmiracle of divine forgiveness as our pattern as well as our hope.\nThe world's morality recognises the duty of forgiveness. Christ\nshows us God's forgiveness as at once the model which is the perfect\nrealisation of the idea in its completeness and inexhaustibleness,\nand also the motive which, brought into our experience, inclines and\nenables us to forgive.\n\nIII. And now I come to the last point of the text--the debtor who\nhad been forgiven falling back into the ranks of the unforgiven,\nbecause he does not forgive.\n\nThe fellow-servants were very much disgusted, no doubt. Our\nconsciences work a great deal more rapidly, and rigidly, about other\npeople's faults than they do about our own. And nine out of ten of\nthese fellow-servants that were very sorry, and ran and told the\nking, would have done exactly the same thing themselves. The king,\nfor the first time, is wroth. We do not read that he was so before,\nwhen the debt only was in question; but such unforgiving harshness,\nafter the experience of such merciful forgiveness, rouses his\nrighteous indignation. The unmercifulness of Christian people is a\nworse sin than many a deed that goes by very ugly names amongst men.\nAnd so the judgment that falls upon this evil-doer, who, by his\ntruculence to his fellow-servant, had betrayed the baseness of his\nnature and the ingratitude of his heart, is, 'Put him back where he\nwas! Tie the two and a quarter millions round his neck again! Let us\nsee what he will do by way of discharging it now!'\n\nNow, do not let any theological systems prevent you from recognising\nthe solemn truth that underlies that representation, that there may\nbe things in the hearts and conduct of forgiven Christians which may\ncancel the cancelling of their debt, and bring it all back again. No\nman can cherish the malicious disposition that treasures up offences\nagainst himself, and at the same moment feel that the divine love is\nwrapping him round in its warm folds. If we are to retain our\nconsciousness of having been forgiven by God, and received into the\namplitude of His heart, we must, in our measure and degree, imitate\nthat on which we trust, and be mirrors of the divine mercy which we\nsay has saved us.\n\nOur parable lays equal stress on two things. First, that the\nfoundation of all real mercifulness in men is the reception of\nforgiving mercy from God. We must have experienced it before we can\nexercise it. And, second, we must exercise it, if we desire to\ncontinue to experience it. 'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall\nobtain mercy.' That applies to Christian people. But behind that\nthere lies the other truth, that in order to be merciful we must\nfirst of all have received the initial mercy of cancelled\ntransgression.\n\nSo, dear friends, here are the two lessons for every one of us.\nFirst, to recognise our debt, and go to Him in whom God is well\npleased, for its abolishment and forgiveness; and then to go out\ninto the world, and live like Him, and show to others love kindled\nby and kindred to that to which we trust for our own salvation. 'Be\nye therefore imitators of God, as beloved children, and walk in\nlove, as God also hath loved us.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE REQUIREMENTS OF THE KING\n\n\n    'And, behold, one came and said unto Him, Good Master,\n    what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal\n    life? 17. And He said unto him, Why callest thou Me\n    good? there is none good but One, that is, God: but\n    if thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments.\n    18. He saith unto Him, Which? Jesus said, Thou shalt\n    do no murder, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou\n    shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear false witness,\n    19. Honour thy father and thy mother: and, Thou shalt\n    love thy neighbour as thyself. 20. The young man saith\n    unto Him, All these things have I kept from my youth\n    up: what lack I yet? 21. Jesus said unto him, If thou\n    wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give\n    to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven:\n    and come and follow Me. 22. But when the young man\n    heard that saying, he went away sorrowful: for he had\n    great possessions. 23. Then said Jesus unto His\n    disciples, Verily I say unto you, That a rich man shall\n    hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven. 24. And again\n    I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through\n    the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into\n    the kingdom of God. 25. When His disciples heard it,\n    they were exceedingly amazed, saying, Who then can be\n    saved? 26. But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them,\n    With men this is impossible; but with God all things\n    are possible.'--MATT. xix. 16-26.\n\nWe have here one of the saddest stories in the gospels. It is a true\nsoul's tragedy. The young man is in earnest, but his earnestness has\nnot volume and force enough to float him over the bar. He wishes to\nhave some great thing bidden him to do, but he recoils from the\nsharp test which Christ imposes. He truly wants the prize, but the\ncost is too great; and yet he wishes it so much that he goes away\nwithout it in deep sorrow, which perhaps, at another day, ripened\ninto the resolve which then was too high for him. There is a certain\nseverity in our Lord's tone, an absence of recognition of the much\ngood in the young man, and a naked stringency in His demand from\nhim, which sound almost harsh, but which are set in their true light\nby Mark's note, that Jesus 'loved him,' and therefore treated him\nthus. The truest way to draw ingenuous souls is not to flatter, nor\nto make entrance easy by dropping the standard or hiding the\nrequirements, but to call out all their energy by setting before\nthem the lofty ideal. Easy-going disciples are easily made--and\nlost. Thorough-going ones are most surely won by calling for entire\nsurrender.\n\nI. We may gather together the earlier part of the conversation, as\nintroductory to the Lord's requirement (vs. 16-20), in which we have\nthe picture of a real though imperfect moral earnestness, and may\nnote how Christ deals with it. Matthew tells us that the questioner\nwas young and rich. Luke adds that he was a 'ruler'--a synagogue\nofficial, that is--which was unusual for a young man, and indicates\nthat his legal blamelessness was recognised. Mark adds one of his\ntouches, which are not only picturesque, but character-revealing, by\nthe information that he came 'running' to Jesus in the way, so eager\nwas he, and fell at His feet, so reverential was he. His first\nquestion is singularly compacted of good and error. The fact that he\ncame to Christ for a purely religious purpose, not seeking personal\nadvantage for himself or for others, like the crowds who followed\nfor loaves and cures, nor laying traps for Him with puzzles which\nmight entangle Him with the authorities, nor asking theological\nquestions for curiosity, but honestly and earnestly desiring to be\nhelped to lay hold of eternal life, is to be put down to his credit.\nHe is right in counting it the highest blessing.\n\nWhere had he got hold of the thought of 'eternal life'? It was miles\nabove the dusty speculations and casuistries of the rabbis. Probably\nfrom Christ Himself. He was right in recognising that the conditions\nof possessing it were moral, but his conception of 'good' was\nsuperficial, and he thought more of doing good than of being good,\nand of the desired life as payment for meritorious actions. In a\nword, he stood at the point of view of the old dispensation. 'This\ndo, and thou shalt live,' was his belief; and what he wished was\nfurther instruction as to what 'this' was. He was to be praised in\nthat he docilely brought his question to Jesus, even though, as\nChrist's answer shows, there was error mingling in his docility.\nSuch is the character--a young man, rich, influential, touched with\nreal longings for the highest life, ready, so far as he knows\nhimself, to do whatever he is bidden, in order to secure it.\n\nWe might have expected Christ, who opened His arms wide for\npublicans and harlots, to have welcomed this fair, ingenuous seeker\nwith some kindly word. But He has none for him. We adopt the reading\nof the Revised Version, in which our Lord's first word is repellent.\nIt is in effect--'There is no need for your question, which answers\nitself. There is one good Being, the source and type of every good\nthing, and therefore the good, which you ask about, can only be\nconformity to His will. You need not come to Me to know what you are\nto do.' He relegates the questioner, not to his own conscience, but\nto the authoritative revealed will of God in the law. Modern views\nof Christ's work, which put all its stress on the perfection of His\nmoral character, and His office as a pattern of righteousness, may\nwell be rebuked by the fact that He expressly disclaimed this\ncharacter, and declared that, if He was only to be regarded as\nrepublishing the law of human conduct, His work was needless. Men\nhave enough knowledge of what they must do to enter into life,\nwithout Jesus Christ. No doubt, Christ's moral teaching transcends\nthat given of old; but His special work was not to tell men what to\ndo, but to make it possible for them to do it; to give, not the law,\nbut the power, both the motive and the impulse, which will fulfil\nthe law. On another occasion He answered a similar question in a\ndifferent manner. When the Jews asked Him, 'What must we do, that we\nmay work the works of God?' He replied by the plain evangelical\nstatement: 'This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him whom He\nhath sent.' Why did He not answer the young ruler thus? Only because\nHe knew that he needed to be led to that thought by having his own\nself-complacency shattered, and the clinging of his soul to earth\nlaid bare. The whole treatment of him here is meant to bring him to\nthe apprehension of faith as preceding all truly good work.\n\nThe young man's second question says a great deal in its one word.\nIt indicates astonishment at being remanded to these old, well-worn\nprecepts, and might be rendered, 'What sort of commandments?' as if\ntaking it for granted that they must be new and peculiar. It is the\nsame spirit as that which in all ages has led men who with partial\ninsight longed after eternal life, to seek it by fantastic and\nunusual roads of extraordinary sacrifices or services--the spirit\nwhich filled monasteries, and invented hair shirts, and fastings,\nand swinging with hooks in your back at Hindoo festivals. The\ncraving for more than ordinary 'good works' shows a profound mistake\nin the estimate of the ordinary, and a fatal blunder as to the\nrelation between 'goodness' and 'eternal life.'\n\nSo Christ answers the question by quoting the second half of the\nDecalogue, which deals with the homeliest duties, and appending to\nit the summary of the law, which requires love to our neighbour as\nto ourselves. Why does He omit the earlier half? Probably because He\nwould meet the error of the question, by presenting only the\nplainest, most familiar commandments, and because He desired to\nexcite the consciousness of deficiency, which could be most easily\ndone in connection with these.\n\nThere is a touch of impatience in the rejoinder, 'All these have I\nkept,' and more than a touch of self-satisfaction. The law has\nfailed to accomplish one of its chief purposes in the young man, in\nthat it has not taught him his sinfulness. No doubt he had a right\nto say that his outward life had been free from breaches of such\nvery elementary morality which any old woman could have taught him.\nHe had never gone below the surface of the commandments, nor below\nthe surface of his acts, or he would not have answered so jauntily.\nHe had yet to learn that the height of 'goodness' is reached, not by\nadding some strange new performances to the threadbare precepts of\neveryday duty, but by digging deep into these, and bottoming the\nfabric of our lives on their inmost spirit. He had yet to learn that\nwhoever says, 'All these have I kept,' thereby convicts himself of\nunderstanding neither them nor himself.\n\nStill he was not at rest, although he had, as he fancied, kept them\nall. His last question is a plaintive, honest acknowledgment of the\nhungry void within, which no round of outward obediences can ever\nfill. He knows that he has not the inner fountain springing up into\neternal life. He is dimly aware of something wanting, whether in his\nobedience or no, at all events in his peace; and he is right in\nbelieving that the reason for that conscious void is something\nwanting in his conduct. But he will not learn what Christ has been\ntrying to teach him, that he needs no new commandment, but a deeper\nunderstanding and keeping of the old. Hence his question, half a\nwail of a hungry heart, half petulant impatience with Christ's\nreiteration of obvious duties. There are multitudes of this kind in\nall ages, honestly wishing to lay hold of eternal life, able to\npoint to virtuous conduct, anxious to know and do anything lacking,\nand yet painfully certain that something is wanting somewhere.\n\nII. Now comes the sharp-pointed test, which pricks the brilliant\nbubble. Mark tells us that Jesus accompanied His word with one of\nthose looks which searched a soul, and bore His love into it. 'If\nthou wouldest be perfect,' takes up the confession of something\n'lacking,' and shows what that is. It is unnecessary to remark that\nthis commandment to sell all and give to the poor is intended only\nfor the individual case. No other would-be disciple was called upon\nto do so. It cannot be meant for others; for, if all were sellers,\nwhere would the buyers be? Nor need we do more than point out that\nthe command of renunciation is only half of Christ's answer, the\nother being, 'Come, follow Me.' But we are not to slide easily over\nthe precept with the comfortable thought that it was special\ntreatment for a special case. The principle involved in it is\nmedicine for all, and the only way of healing for any. This man was\ntied to earth by the cords of his wealth. They did not hinder him\nfrom keeping the commandments, for he had no temptations to murder,\nor adultery, or theft, or neglect of parents. But they did hinder\nhim from giving his whole self up, and from regarding eternal life\nas the most precious of all things. Therefore for him there was no\nsafety short of entire outward denuding himself of them; and, if he\nwas in earnest out and out in his questions, here was a new thing\nfor him to do. Others are hindered by other things, and they are\ncalled to abandon these. The one thing needful for entrance into\nlife is at bottom self-surrender, and the casting away of all else\nfor its sovereign sake. 'I do count them but dung' must be the\nlanguage of every one who will win Christ. The hands must be emptied\nof treasures, and the heart swept clear of lesser loves, if He is to\nbe grasped by our hands, and to dwell in our hearts. More of us than\nwe are willing to believe are kept from entire surrender to Jesus\nChrist, by money and worldly possessions; and many professing\nChristians are kept shrivelled and weak and joyless because they\nlove their wealth more than their Lord, and would think it madness\nto do as this man was bidden to do. When ballast is thrown out, the\nballoon shoots up. A general unlading of the 'thick clay' which\nweighs down the Christian life of England, would let thousands soar\nto heights which they will never reach as long as they love money\nand what it buys as much as they do. The letter of this commandment\nmay be only applicable in a special case (though, perhaps, this one\nyoung man was not the only human being that ever needed this\ntreatment), but the spirit is of universal application. No man\nenters into life who does not count all things but loss, and does\nnot die to them all, that he may follow Christ.\n\nIII. Then comes the collapse of all the enthusiasm. The questioner's\nearnestness chills at the touch of the test. What has become of the\neagerness which brought him running to Jesus, and of the willingness\nto do any hard task to which he was set? It was real, but shallow.\nIt deceived himself. But Christ's words cut down to the inner man,\nand laid bare for his own inspection the hard core of selfish\nworldliness which lay beneath. How many radiant enthusiasms, which\ncheat their subjects quite as much as their beholders, disappear\nlike tinted mist when the hard facts of self-sacrifice strike\nagainst them! How much sheer worldliness disguises itself from\nitself and from others in glistering garments of noble sentiments,\nwhich fall at a touch when real giving up is called for, and show\nthe ugly thing below! How much 'religion' goes about the world, and\ngets made 'a ruler' of the synagogue in recognition of its\nexcellence, which needs but this Ithuriel's spear to start up in its\nown shape! The completeness  and immediateness of the collapse are\nnoticeable. The young man seems to speak no word, and to take no\ntime for reflection. He stands for a moment as if stunned, and then\nsilently turns away. What a moment! his fate hung on it. Once more\nwe see the awful mystery enacted before our eyes, of a soul\ngathering up its power to put away life. Who will say that the\ndecision of a moment, which is the outcome of all the past, may not\nfix the whole future? This man had never before been consciously\nbrought to the fork in the road; but now the two ways are before\nhim, and, knowingly, he chooses the worse. Christ did not desire him\nto do so; but He did desire that he should choose, and should know\nthat he did. It was the truest kindness to tear away the veil of\nsurface goodness which hid him from himself, and to force him to a\nconscious decision.\n\nOne sign of grace he does give, in that he went away 'sorrowful.' He\nis not angry nor careless. He cannot see the fair prospect of the\neternal life, which he had in some real fashion desired, fade away,\nwithout a pang. If he goes back to the world, he goes back feeling\nmore acutely than ever that it cannot satisfy him. He loves it too\nwell to give it up, but not enough to feel that it is enough.\nSurely, in coming days, that godly sorrow would work a change of the\nfoolish choice, and we may hope that he found no rest till he cast\naway all else to make Christ his own. A soul which has travelled as\nfar on the road to life eternal as this man had done, can scarcely\nthereafter walk the broad road of selfishness and death with entire\nsatisfaction.\n\nIV. The section closes with Christ's comment on the sad incident. He\nspeaks no word of condemnation, but passes at once from the\nindividual to the general lesson of the difficulty which rich men\n(or, as He explains it in Mark, men who 'trust in riches') have in\nentering the kingdom. The reflection breathes a tone of pity, and is\nnot so much blame as a merciful recognition of special temptations\nwhich affect His judgment, and should modify ours. A camel with its\ngreat body, long neck, and hump, struggling to get through a\nneedle's eye, is their emblem. It is a new thing to pity rich men,\nor to think of their wealth as disqualifying them for anything. The\ndisciples, with childish _na\u00efvet\u00e9_, wonder. We may wonder that\nthey wondered. They could not understand what sort of a kingdom it\nwas into which capitalists would find entrance difficult. All doors\nfly open for them to-day, as then. They do not find much difficulty\nin getting into the church, however hard it may be to get into the\nkingdom. But it still remains true that the man who has wealth has a\nhindrance to his religious character, which, like all hindrances,\nmay be made a help by the use he makes of it; and that the man who\ntrusts in riches, which he who possesses them is wofully likely to\ndo, has made the hindrance into a barrier which he cannot pass.\n\nThat is a lesson which commercial nations, like England, have need\nto lay to heart, not as a worn-out saying of the Bible, which means\nvery little for us, but as heavy with significance, and pointing to\nthe special dangers which beset Christian perfection.\n\nSo real is the peril of riches, that Christ would have His disciples\nregard the victory over it as beyond our human power, and beckons us\naway from the effort to overcome the love of the world in our\nstrength, pointing us to God, in whose mighty grace, breathed into\nour feeble wills and treacherous hearts, is the only force which can\novercome the attraction of perishable riches, and make any of us\nwilling or able to renounce them all that we may win Christ. The\nyoung ruler had just shown that 'with men this is impossible.'\nPerhaps he still lingered near enough to catch the assurance that\nthe surrender, which had been too much for him to achieve, might yet\nbe joyfully made, since 'with God all things are possible.'\n\n\n\n\nNEAREST TO CHRIST\n\n\n    'To sit on My right hand, and on My left, is not Mine\n    to give, but it shall be given to them for whom it is\n    prepared of My Father.'--MATT. xx. 23.\n\nYou will observe that an unusually long supplement is inserted by\nour translators in this verse. That supplement is quite unnecessary,\nand, as is sometimes the case, is even worse than unnecessary. It\npositively obscures the true meaning of the words before us.\n\nAs they stand in our Bibles, the impression that they leave upon\none's mind is that Christ in them abjures the power of giving to His\ndisciples their places in the kingdom of heaven, and declares that\nit belongs not to His function, but relegates it, to His own\nexclusion, to the Father; whereas what He says is the very opposite\nof this. He does not put aside the granting of places at His right\nhand or His left as not being within His province, but He states the\nprinciples and conditions on which He does make such a grant, and so\nis really claiming it as in His province. All that would have been a\ngreat deal clearer if our translators had been contented to render\nthe words that they found before them in the Book, without addition,\nand to read, 'To sit on My right hand, and on My left, is not Mine\nto give, but to them for whom it is prepared of My Father.'\n\nAnother introductory remark may be made, to the effect that our Lord\ndoes not put aside this prayer of His apostles as if they were\nseeking an impossible thing. It is never safe, I know, to argue from\nthe silence of Scripture. There may be many reasons for that silence\nbeyond our ken in any given case; but still it does strike one as\nnoteworthy that, when this fond mother and her ambitious sons came\nwith their prayer for pre-eminence in His kingdom, our Lord did not\nanswer what would have been so obvious to answer if it had been\ntrue, 'You are asking a thing which cannot be granted to anybody,\nfor they are all upon one level in that kingdom of the heavens.' He\nsays by implication the very opposite. Not only does His silence\nconfirm their belief that when He came in His glory, some would be\ncloser to His side than others; but the plain statement of the text\nis that, in the depth of the eternal counsels, and by the\npreparation of divine grace, there were thrones nearest to His own\nwhich some men should fill. He does _not_ say, 'You are asking\nwhat cannot be.' He does say, 'There are men for whom it is prepared\nof My Father.'\n\nAnd then, still further, Jesus does not condemn the prayer as\nindicating a wrong state of mind on the part of James and John,\nthough good and bad were strangely mingled in it. We are told\nnowadays that it is a very selfish thing, far below the lofty height\nto which our transcendental teachers have attained, to be heartened\nand encouraged, strengthened and quickened, by the prospect of the\ncrown and the rest that remain for the people of God. If so, Christ\nought to have turned round to these men, and have rebuked the\npassion for reward, which, according to this new light, is so\nunworthy and so low. But, instead of that, He confines Himself to\nexplaining the conditions on which the fulfilment of the desire is\npossible, and by implication permits and approves the desire. 'You\nwant to sit on My right hand and on My left, do you? Then be it so.\nYou may do so if you like. Are you ready to accept the conditions?\nIt is well that you should want it,--not for the sake of being above\nyour brethren, but for the sake of being nearest to Me. Hearken! Are\nye able to drink of the cup that I shall drink of?' They say unto\nHim (and I do not know that there are anywhere grander words than\nthe calm, swift, unhesitating, modest, and yet confident answer of\nthese two men), 'We are able.' 'You shall have your desire if you\nfulfil the conditions. It is given to them for whom it is prepared\nof My Father.'\n\nI. So, then, if we rightly understand these words, and take them\nwithout the unfortunate comment which our translators have inserted,\nthey contain, first, the principle that some will be nearer Christ\nthan others in that heavenly kingdom.\n\nAs I have said, the words of our Lord do not merely imply, by the\nabsence of all hint that these disciples' petition was impossible,\nthe existence of degrees among the subjects of His heavenly kingdom,\nbut articulately affirm that such variety is provided for by the\npreparation of the Father. Probably the two brothers thought that\nthey were only asking for preeminence in an earthly kingdom, and had\nno idea that their prayer pointed beyond the grave; but that\nconfusion of thought could not be cured in their then stage of\ngrowth, and our Lord therefore leaves it untouched. But the other\nerror, if it were an error, was of a different kind, and might, for\naught that one sees, have been set right in a moment. Instead of\nwhich the answer adopts it, and seems to set Christ's own\nconfirmation on it, as being no Jewish dream, but a truth.\n\nThey were asking for earth. He answers--for heaven. He leaves them\nto learn in after days--when the one was slain with the sword, first\nmartyr among the apostles, and the other lived to see them all pass\nto their thrones, while he remained the 'companion in tribulation'\nof the second generation of the Church--how far off was the\nfulfilment which they fancied so near.\n\nWe need not be surprised that so large a truth should be spoken by\nChrist so quietly, and as it were incidentally. For that is in\nkeeping with His whole tone when speaking of the unseen world. One\nknows not whether to wonder more at the decisive authority with\nwhich He tells us of that mysterious region, or at the small space\nwhich such revelations occupy in His words. There is an air of\nsimplicity and unconsciousness, and withal of authority, and withal\nof divine reticence about them all, which are in full harmony with\nthe belief that Christ speaking of heaven speaks of that He knows,\nand testifies that He hath seen.\n\nThat truth to which, as we think, our Lord's words here inevitably\nlead, is distinctly taught in many other places of Scripture. We\nshould have had less difficulty about it, and should have felt more\nwhat a solemn and stimulating thought it is, if we had tried a\nlittle more than most of us do to keep clear before us what really\nis the essential of that future life, what is the lustre of its\nlight, the heaven of heaven, the glory of the glory. Men talk about\nphysical theories of another life. I suppose they are possible. They\nseem to me infinitely unimportant. Warm imaginations, working by\nsense, write books about a future state which wonderfully succeed in\nmaking it real by making it earthly. Some of them read more like a\nbook of travels in this world than forecastings of the next. They\nmay be true or not. It does not matter one whit. I believe that\nheaven is a place. I believe that the corporeity of our future life\nis essential to the perfection of it. I believe that Christ wears,\nand will wear for ever, a glorified human body. I believe that that\ninvolves locality, circumstance, external occupations; and I say,\nall that being so, and in its own place very important, yet if we\nstop there, we have no vision of the real light that makes the\nlustre, no true idea of the glory that makes the blessedness.\n\nFor what is heaven? Likeness to God, love, purity, fellowship with\nHim; the condition of the spirit and the relation of the soul to\nHim. The noblest truth about the future world flows from the words\nof our Master--'This is life eternal, to know Thee, the only true\nGod, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent.' Not 'this brings'; not\n'this will lead up to'; not 'this will draw after it'; but 'this\nis'; and whosoever possesses that eternal life hath already in him\nthe germ of all the glories that are round the throne, and the\nblessedness that fills the hearts of perfected spirits.\n\nIf so, if already eternal life in the bud standeth in the knowledge\nof God in Christ, what makes its fruitage and completeness? Surely,\nnot physical changes or the circumstances of heaven, at least not\nthese primarily, however much such changes and circumstances may\nsubserve our blessedness there, and the anticipation of them may\nhelp our sense-bound hopes here. But the completeness of heaven is\nthe completion of our knowledge of God and Christ, with all the\nperfecting of spirit which that implies and produces. The faith, and\nlove, and happy obedience, and consecration which is calm, that\npartially occupied and ruled the soul here, are to be thought of as\nenlarged, perfected, delivered from the interruption of opposing\nthoughts, of sensuous desires, of selfish purposes, of earthly and\nsinful occupations. And that perfect knowledge and perfect union and\nperfect likeness are perfect bliss. And that bliss is heaven. And\nif, whilst heaven is a place, the heaven of heaven be a state, then\nno more words are needed to show that, then, heaven can be no dead\nlevel, nor can all stand at the same stage of attainments, though\nall be perfect; but that in that solemn company of the blessed, 'the\nspirits of just men made perfect,' there are indefinitely numerous\ndegrees of approximation to the unattainable Perfection, which\nstretches above them all, and draws them all to itself. We have not\nto think of that future life as oppressed, if I may so say, with the\nunbroken monotony of perfect identity in character and attainments.\nAll indeed are like one another, because all are like Jesus, but\nthat basis of similarity does not exclude infinite variety. The same\nglory belongs to each, but it is reflected at differing angles and\nreceived in divers measures. Perfect blessedness will belong to\neach, but the capacity to receive it will differ. There will be the\nsame crown on each head, the same song on each lip, the same fulness\nof joy filling each heart; but star differeth from star, and the\ngreat condition of happy intercourse on earth will not be wanting in\nheaven--a deep-seated similarity and a superficial diversity.\n\nDoes not the very idea of an endless progress in that kingdom involve\nsuch variety? We do not think of men passing into the heavens, and\nbeing perfected by a bound so as that there shall be no growth. We\nthink of them indeed as being perfected up to the height of their\nthen capacity, from the beginning of that celestial life, so as that\nthere shall be no sin, nor any conscious incompleteness, but not so\nas that there shall be no progress. And, if they each grow through\nall the ages, and are ever coming nearer and nearer to Christ, that\nseems necessarily to lead to the thought that this endless progress,\ncarried on in every spirit, will place them at different points of\napproximation to the one centre. As in the heavens there are planets\nthat roll nearer the central sun, and others that circle farther out\nfrom its rays, yet each keeps its course, and makes music as it moves,\nas well as planets whose broader disc can receive and reflect more\nof the light than smaller sister spheres, and yet each blazes over\nits whole surface and is full to its very rim with white light; so\nround that throne the spirits of the just made perfect shall move in\norder and peace--every one blessed, every one perfect, every one\nlike Christ at first, and becoming liker through every moment of\nthe eternities. Each perfected soul looking on his brother shall\nsee there another phase of the one perfectness that blesses and\nadorns him too, and all taken together shall make up, in so far as\nfinite creatures can make up, the reflection and manifestation of\nthe fulness of Christ. 'Having then gifts differing according to\nthe grace that is given to us' is the law for the incompleteness\nof earth. 'Having then gifts differing according to the glory that\nis given to us' will be the law for the perfection of the heavens.\nThere are those for whom it is prepared of His Father, that they\nshall sit in special nearness to Him.\n\nII. Still further, these words rightly understood assert that truth\nwhich, at first sight, our Authorised Version's rendering seems to\nmake them contradict, viz. that Christ is the giver to each of these\nvarious degrees of glory and blessedness. 'It is not Mine to give,\nsave to them for whom it is prepared.' Then it is Thine to give it\nto them. To deny or to doubt that Christ is the giver of the\nblessedness, whatsoever the blessedness may be, that fills the\nhearts and souls of the redeemed, is to destroy His whole work, to\ndestroy all the relations upon which our hopes rest, and to\nintroduce confusion and contradiction into the whole matter.\n\nFor Scripture teaches us that He is God's unspeakable gift; that in\nHim is given to us everything; that He is the bestower of all which\nwe need; that 'out of His fulness,' as one of those two disciples\nlong afterwards said, 'all we have received, and grace for grace.'\nThere is nothing within the compass of God's love to bestow of which\nChrist is not the giver. There is nothing divine that is done in the\nheavens and the earth, as I believe, of which Christ is not the\ndoer. The representation of Scripture is uniformly that He is the\nmedium of the activity of the divine nature; that he is the energy\nof the divine will; that He is, to use the metaphor of the Old\nTestament, 'the arm of the Lord'--the forthputting of God's power;\nthat He is, to use the profound expression of the New Testament, the\nWord of the Lord, cognate with, and the utterance of, the eternal\nnature, the light that streams from the central brightness, the\nriver that flows from the else sealed fountain. As the arm is to the\nbody, and as is the word to the soul, so is Christ to God--the\neternal divine utterance and manifestation of the divine nature.\nAnd, therefore, to speak of anything that a man can need and\nanything that God can give as not being given by Christ, is to\nstrike at the very foundation, not only of our hopes, but at the\nwhole scheme of revealed truth. He is the giver of heaven and\neverything else which the soul requires.\n\nAnd then, again, let me remind you that on this matter we are not\nleft to such general considerations as those that I have been\nsuggesting, but that the plain statements of Scripture do confirm\nthe assertion that Christ is the determiner and the bestower of all\nthe differing grades of glory and blessedness yonder. For do we not\nread of Him that He is the Judge of the whole earth? Do we not read\nof Him that His word is acquittal and His frown condemnation--that\nto 'be accepted of Him' is the highest aim and end of the Christian\nlife? Do we not read that it is He who says, 'Come, ye blessed of My\nFather, enter into the kingdom prepared for you'? Do we not read\nthat the apostle, dying, solaced himself with the thought that\n'there was laid up for him a crown of glory, which the Lord, the\nrighteous Judge, would give him at that day'? And do we not read in\nthe very last book of Scripture, written by one of those two\nbrothers, and containing almost verbal reference to the words of my\ntext, the promise seven times spoken from the immortal lips of the\nglorified Son of Man, walking in the midst of the candlesticks, 'To\nhim that overcometh will I give'? The fruit of the tree of life is\nplucked by His hands for the wearied conquerors. The crown of life\nis set by Him on the faithful witnesses' brows. The hidden manna and\nthe new name are bestowed by Him on those who hold fast His name. It\nis He who gives the victors kingly power over the nations. He\nclothes in white garments those who have not defiled their robes.\nHis hand writes upon the triumphant foreheads the name of God. And\nhighest of all, beyond which there is no bliss conceivable, 'To him\nthat overcometh will I grant to sit with Me in My throne.'\n\nChrist is the bestower of the royalties of the heavens as of the\nredemptions of earth, and it is His to give that which we crave at\nHis hands, when we ask pardon here and glory hereafter. 'To him that\nis athirst will He give of the water of life freely,' and to him\nthat overcometh will He give the crown of glory.\n\nIII. These words lead us, in the third place, to the further\nthought, that these glorious places are not given to mere wishing,\nnor by mere arbitrary will.\n\n'You would sit on My right hand and on My left? You think of that\npre-eminence as conferred because you chose to ask it--as given by a\npiece of favouritism. Not so. I cannot make a man foremost in my\nkingdom in that fashion. There are conditions which must precede\nsuch an elevation.'\n\nAnd there are people who think thus still, as if the mere desire,\nwithout anything more, were enough--or as if the felicities of the\nheavenly world were dependent solely on Christ's arbitrary will, and\ncould be bestowed by an exercise of mere power, as an Eastern prince\nmay make this man his vizier and that other one his water-carrier.\nThe same principles which we have already applied to the elucidation\nof the idea of varieties and stages of nearness to Christ in His\nheavenly kingdom have a bearing on this matter. If we rightly\nunderstand that the essential blessedness of heaven is likeness to\nChrist, we shall feel that mere wishing carries no man thither, and\nthat mere sovereign will and power do not avail to set us there.\nThere are conditions indispensable, from the very nature of the\ncase, and unless they are realised it is as impossible for us to\nreceive, as for Him to give, a place at His side. If, indeed, the\nfuture blessedness consisted in mere external circumstances and\nhappier conditions of life, it might be so bestowed. But if place\nand surroundings, and a more exquisite and ethereal frame, are but\nsubordinate sources of it, and its real fountain is union with Jesus\nand assimilation to Him, then something else than idle desires must\nwing the soul that soars thither, and His transforming grace, not\nHis arbitrary will, must set us at His own right hand 'in the\nheavenly places.'\n\nOf all the profitless occupations with which men waste their lives,\nnone are more utterly useless than wishing without acting. Our\nwishes are meant to impel us to the appropriate forms of energy by\nwhich they can be realised. When a pauper becomes a millionaire by\nsitting and vehemently wishing that he were rich, when ignorance\nbecomes learning by standing in a library and wishing that the\ncontents of all these books were in its head, there will be some\nhope that the gates of heaven will fly open to your desire. But till\nthen, 'many, I say unto you, shall seek to enter in and not be\nable.' Many shall _seek_; you must _strive_. For wishing is one thing,\nand _willing_ is another, and _doing_ is yet another. And in regard\nto entrance into Christ's kingdom, our 'doing' is trusting in Him who\nhas done all for us. 'This is the work of God, that ye should believe\non Him whom He hath sent.' Does our wish lead us to the acceptance\nof the condition? Then it will be fulfilled. If not, it will remain\nfruitless, will die into apathy, or will live as a pang and a curse.\n\nYou wish, or fancy you wish, to pass into heaven when you die, I\nsuppose. Some of its characteristics attract you. You believe in\npunishment for sin, and you would willingly escape that. You believe\nin a place of rest after toil, of happiness after sorrow, where\nnipping frosts of disappointment, and wild blasts of calamity, and\nslow, gnawing decay no more harm and kill your joys--and you would\nlike that. But do you wish to be pure and stainless, to have your\nhearts fixed on God alone, to have your whole being filled with Him,\nand emptied of self and sense and sin? The peace of heaven attracts\nyou--but its praise repels, does it not? Its happiness draws your\nwishes--does its holiness seem inviting? It would be joyful to be\nfar away from punishment--would it be as joyful to be near Christ?\nAh! no; the wishes lead to no resolve, and therefore to no result,\nfor this among other reasons, because they are only kindled by a\npart of the whole, and are exchanged for positive aversion when the\nreal heaven of heaven is presented to your thoughts. Many a man who,\nby the set of his whole life, is drifting daily nearer and nearer to\nthat region of outer darkness, is conscious of an idle wish for\npeace and joy beyond the grave. In common matters a man may be\ndevoured by vain desires all his lifetime, because he will not pass\nbeyond wishing to acting accordingly. 'The desire of the slothful\nkilleth him; because his hands refused to labour, he coveteth\ngreedily all the day long.' And with like but infinitely more\ntragical issues do these vain wishes for a place in that calm world,\nwhere nothing but holiness enters, gnaw at many a soul. 'Let me die\nthe death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his,' was\nthe aspiration of that Gentile prophet, whose love of the world\nobscured even the prophetic illumination which he possessed--and his\nepitaph is a stern comment on the uselessness of such empty wishes,\n'Balaam, the son of Beor, they slew with the sword.' It needs more\nthan a wish to set us at Christ's right hand in His kingdom.\n\nNor can such a place be given by mere arbitrary will. Christ could\nnot, if He would, set a man at His right hand whose heart was not\nthe home of simple trust and thankful love, whose nature and desires\nwere unprepared for that blessed world. It would be like taking one\nof those creatures--if there be such--that live on the planet whose\norbit is farthest from the sun, accustomed to cold, organised for\ndarkness, and carrying it to that great central blaze, with all its\nfierce flames and tongues of fiery gas that shoot up a thousand\nmiles in a moment. It would crumble and disappear before its\nblackness could be seen against the blaze.\n\nHis loving will embraces us all, and is the foundation of all our\nhopes. But it had to reach its purpose by a bitter road which He did\nnot shrink from travelling. He desires to save us, and to realise\nthe desire He had to die. 'It became Him for whom are all things, in\nbringing many sons unto glory, to make the Captain of their\nsalvation perfect through suffering.' What He had to do, we have to\naccept. Unless we accept the mercy of God in Christ, no wish on our\nparts, nor any exercise of power on His, will carry us to the heaven\nwhich He has died to open, and of which He is at once the giver and\nthe gift.\n\nIV. These glorious places are given as the result of a divine\npreparation.\n\n'To them for whom it is prepared of My Father.' We have seen that\nChrist is not to be regarded as abjuring the office, with which His\ndisciples' confidence led them to invest Him--that of allotting to\nHis servants their place in His kingdom. He neither refers it to the\nFather without Himself, nor claims it for Himself without the\nFather. The living unity of will and work which subsists between the\nFather and the Son forbids such a separation and distribution of\noffice. And that unity is set forth on both its sides in His own\ndeep words, 'The Son can do nothing of Himself, but what He seeth\nthe Father do: for whatsoever things He doeth, these also doeth the\nSon likewise.'\n\nSo, then, while the gift of thrones at His side is His act and the\nFather's, in like manner the preparation of the royal seats for\ntheir occupants, and of the kings for their thrones, is the Father's\nact and His.\n\nOur text does not tell us directly what that preparation is, any\nmore than it tells us directly what the principles are on which\nentrance into and pre-eminence in the kingdom are granted. But we\nknow enough in regard to both, for our practical guidance, for the\nvigour of our hope, and the grasp of our faith.\n\nThere is a twofold divine preparation of the heavens for men. One is\nfrom of old. The kingdom is 'prepared for you before the foundation\nof the world.' That preparation is in the eternal counsel of the\ndivine love, which calleth the things that are not as though they\nwere, and before which all that is evolved in the generations of men\nand the epochs of time, lies on one plane, equally near to dim from\nwhose throne diverge far beneath the triple streams of past,\npresent, and future.\n\nAnd beside that preparation, the counsel of pardoning mercy and\nredeeming grace, there is the other preparation--the realisation of\nthat eternal purpose in time through the work of Jesus Christ our\nLord. His consolation to His disciples in the parting hour was, 'I\ngo to prepare a place for you.' How much was included in these words\nwe shall never know till we, like Him, see of the travail of His\nsoul, and like Him are satisfied. But we can dimly see that on the\none hand His death, and on the other hand His entrance into that\nholiest of all, make ready for us the many mansions of the Father's\nhouse. He was crucified for our offences, He was raised again for\nour justification, He is passed through the heavens to stand our\nForerunner in the presence of God--and by all these mighty acts He\nprepares the heavenly places for us. As the sun behind a cloud,\nwhich hides it from us, is still pouring out its rays on far-off\nlands, so He, veiled in dark, sunset clouds of Calvary, sent the\nenergy of His passion and cross into the unseen world and made it\npossible that we should enter there. 'When Thou didst overcome the\nsharpness of death, Thou didst open the gates of the kingdom of\nheaven to all believers.' As one who precedes a mighty host provides\nand prepares rest for their weariness, and food for their hunger, in\nsome city on their line of march, and having made all things ready,\nis at the gates to welcome their travel-stained ranks when they\narrive, and guide them to their repose; so He has gone before, our\nForerunner, to order all things for us there. It may be that unless\nChrist were in heaven, our brother as well as our Lord, it were no\nplace for mortals. It may be that we need to have His glorified\nbodily presence in order that it should be possible for human\nspirits to bear the light, and be at home with God. Be that as it\nmay, this we know, that the Father prepares a place for us by the\neternal counsel of His love, and by the all-sufficient work of\nChrist, by whom we have access to the Father.\n\nAnd as His work is the Father's preparation of the place for us by\nthe Son, the issue of His work is the Father's preparation of us for\nthe place, through the Son, by the Spirit. 'He that hath wrought us\nfor the self-same thing is God.'\n\nIf so, then what follows? This, among other things, that wishes are\nvain, for heaven is no gift of arbitrary favouritism, but that faith\nin Christ, and faith alone, leads us to His right hand--and the\nmeasure of our faith and growing Christlikeness here, will be the\nmeasure of our glory hereafter, and of our nearness to Him. It is\npossible to be 'saved, _yet so as by fire_.' It is possible to\nhave 'an entrance ministered unto us _abundantly_ into the\neverlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.' If we\nwould be near Him then, we must be near Him now. If we would share\nHis throne, we must bear His cross. If we would be found in the\nlikeness of His resurrection, we must be 'conformable unto His\ndeath.' Then such desires as these true-hearted, and yet mistaken,\ndisciples expressed will not be the voice of selfish ambition, but\nof dependent love. They will not be vain wishes, but be fulfilled by\nHim, who, stooping from amid the royalties of heaven, with love upon\nHis face and pity in His heart, will give more than we ask. 'Seekest\nthou a place at My right hand? Nay, I give thee a more wondrous\ndignity. To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with Me in My\nthrone.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE SERVANT-LORD AND HIS SERVANTS\n\n\n    'Even as the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto,\n    but to minister.'--MATT. xx. 28.\n\nIt seems at first sight strangely unsympathetic and irrelevant that\nthe ambitious request of James and John and their foolish mother,\nthat they should sit at Christ's right hand and His left in His\nkingdom, should have been occasioned by, and have followed\nimmediately upon, our Lord's solemn and pathetic announcement of His\nsufferings. But the connection is not difficult to trace. The\ndisciples believed that, in some inexplicable way, the sufferings\nwhich our Lord was shadowing forth were to be the immediate\nprecursors of His assuming His regal dignity. And so they took time\nby the forelock, as they thought, and made haste to ensure their\nplaces in the kingdom, which they believed was now ready to burst\nupon them. Other occasions in the Gospels in which we find similar\nquarrelling among the disciples as to pre-eminence are similarly\nassociated with references made by our Lord to His approaching\ncrucifixion. On a former occasion He cured these misplaced ambitions\nby setting a child in the midst of them. On this He cures them by a\nstill more pathetic and wonderful example, His own; and He says, 'I,\nin My lowliness and service, am to be your Pattern. In Me see the\nbasis of all true greatness, and the right use of all influence and\nauthority. The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to\nminister.'\n\nI. So, then, let us look first at the perfect life of service of the\nServant-Lord.\n\nNow, in order to appreciate the significance of that life of service,\nwe must take into account the introductory words, 'The Son of Man\ncame.' They declare His pre-existence, His voluntary entrance into\nthe conditions of humanity, and His denuding Himself of 'the glory\nwhich He had with the Father before the world was.' We shall never\nunderstand the Servant-Christ until we understand that He is the\nEternal Son of the Father. His service began long before any of His\nacts of sympathetic and self-forgetting lowliness rendered help to\nthe miserable here upon earth. His service began when He laid aside,\nnot the garments of earth, but the vesture of the heavens, and\ngirded Himself, not with the cincture woven in man's looms, but with\nthe flesh of our humanity, 'and being found in fashion as a man,'\nbowed Himself to enter into the conditions of earth. This was the\nfirst, the chiefest of all His acts of service, and the sanctity and\nawfulness of it run through the list of all His deeds and make them\nunspeakably great. It was much that His hands should heal, that His\nlips should comfort, that His heart should bleed with sympathy for\nsorrow. But, oh! it was more that He _had_ hands to touch, lips to\nspeak to human hearts, and the heart of a man and a brother to feel\n_with_ as well as _for_ us. 'The Son of Man came'--there is\nthe transcendent example of the true use of greatness; there is the\nconspicuous instance of the true basis of authority and rule. For it\nwas because He was 'found in fashion as a Man' that He has won a 'name\nthat is above every name,' and that there have accrued to Him the\n'many crowns' which He wears at the Father's side.\n\nBut then, passing beyond this, we may dwell, though all imperfectly,\nupon the features, familiar as they are, of that wonderful life of\nself-oblivious and self-sacrificing ministration to others. Think of\nthe purity of the source from all which these wonders and\nblessednesses of service for man flowed. The life of Jesus Christ is\nself-forgetting love made visible. Scientists tell us that, by the\narrangement of particles of sand upon plates of glass, there can be\nmade, as it were, perceptible to the eye, the sweetness of musical\nsounds; and each note when struck will fling the particles into\nvarying forms of beauty. The life of Jesus Christ presents in shapes\nof loveliness and symmetry the else invisible music of a divine\nlove. He lets us see the rhythm of the Father's heart. The source\nfrom which His ministrations have flowed is the pure source of a\nperfect love. Ancient legends consolidated the sunbeams into the\nbright figure of the far-darting god of light. And so the sunbeams\nof the divine love have, as it were, drawn themselves together and\nshaped themselves into the human form of the Son of Man who 'came\nnot to be ministered unto, but to minister.'\n\nNo taint of bye-ends was in that service; no sidelong glances at\npossible advantages of influence or reputation or the like, which so\noften deform men's philanthropies and services to one another. No\nmore than the sunbeam shines for the sake of collateral issues which\nmay benefit itself, did Jesus Christ seek His own advantage in\nministering to men. There was no speck of black in that lustrous\nwhite robe, but all was perfectly unselfish love. Like the clear\nsea, weedless and stainless, that laves the marble steps of the\npalaces of Venice, the deep ocean of Christ's service to man was\npure to the depths throughout.\n\nThat perfect ministry of the Servant-Lord was rendered with strange\nspontaneity and cheerfulness. One of the evangelists says, in a very\nstriking and beautiful phrase, that 'He healed them that had need of\nhealing,' as if the presence of the necessity evoked the supply, by\nthe instinctive action of a perfect love. There was never in Him one\ntrace of reluctance to have leisure broken in upon, repose\ndisturbed, or even communion with God abbreviated. All men could\ncome always; they never came inopportunely. We often cheerfully take\nup a burden of service, but find it very hard to continue bearing\nit. But He was willing to come down from the mountain of\nTransfiguration because there was a demoniac boy in the plain; and\ntherefore He put aside the temptation--'Let us build here three\ntabernacles.' He was willing to abandon His desert seclusion because\nthe multitude sought Him. Interrupted in His communion with the\nFather by His disciples, He had no impatient word to say, but 'Let\nus go into other cities also, for therefore am I sent.' When He\nstepped from the fishing-boat on the other side of the lake to which\nHe had fled for a moment of repose, He was glad when He saw the\nmultitude who had pertinaciously outrun Him, and were waiting for\nHim on the beach. On His Cross He had leisure to turn from His own\nphysical sufferings and the weight of a world's sin, which lay upon\nHim, to look at that penitent by His side, and He ended His life in\nthe ministry of mercy to a brigand. And thus cheerfully, and always\nwithout a thought of self, 'He came to minister.'\n\nThink, too, of the sweep of His ministrations. They took in all men;\nthey were equally open to enemies and to friends, to mockers and to\nsympathisers. Think of the variety of the gifts which He brought in\nHis ministry--caring for body and for soul; alleviating sorrow,\nbinding up wounds, purifying hearts; dealing with sin, the fountain,\nand with miseries, its waters, with equal helpfulness and equal\nlove.\n\nAnd think of how that ministering was always ministration by 'the\nLORD.' For there is nothing to me more remarkable in the Gospel\nnarrative than the way in which, side by side, there lie in Christ's\nlife the two elements, so difficult to harmonise in fact, and so\nimpossible to have been harmonised in a legend, the consciousness of\nauthority and the humility of a servant. The paradox with which John\nintroduces his sweet pathetic story of our Lord's washing the\ndisciples' feet is true of, and is illustrated by, every instance of\nmore than ordinary lowliness and self-oblivion which the Gospel\ncontains. 'Jesus, knowing that He had come from God, and went to\nGod, and that the Father had given all things into His hand'--did\nwhat? 'Laid aside His garments and took a towel and girded Himself.'\nThe two things ever go together. And thus, in His lowliest\nabasement, as in a star entangled in a cloud, there shine out, all\nthe more broad and conspicuous for the environment which wraps them,\nthe beams of His uncreated lustre.\n\nThat ministration was a service that never shrank from stern rebuke.\nHis service was no mere soft and pliant, sympathetic helpfulness,\nbut it could smite and stab, and be severe, and knit its brow, and\nspeak stern words, as all true service must. For it is not service\nbut cruelty to sympathise with the sinner, and say nothing in\ncondemnation of his sin. And yet no sternness is blessed which is\nnot plainly prompted by desire to help.\n\nNow, I know far better than you do how wretchedly inadequate all\nthese poor words of mine have been to the great theme that I have\nbeen trying to speak of, but they may at least--like a little water\npoured into a pump--have set your minds working upon the theme, and,\nI hope, to better purpose. 'The Son of Man came ... to minister.'\n\nII. Now, secondly, note the service that should be modelled on His.\n\nOh! brethren, if we, however imperfectly, have taken into mind and\nheart that picture of Him who was and is amongst us as 'One that\nserveth,' how sharp a test, and how stringent, and, as it seems to\nus sometimes, impossible, a commandment are involved in the 'even\nas' of my text. When we think of our grudging services; when we\nthink of how much more apt we are to insist upon what men owe to us\nthan of what we owe to them; how ready we are to demand, how slow we\nare to give; how we flame up in what we think is warranted\nindignation if we do not get the observance, or the sympathy, or the\nattention that we require, and yet how little we give of these, we\nmay well say, 'Thou hast set a pattern that can only drive us to\ndespair.' If we would read our Gospels more than we do with the\nfeeling, as we trace that Master through each of His phases of\nsympathy and self-oblivion and self-sacrifice and service, 'that is\nwhat I should be,' what a different book the New Testament would be\nto us, and what different people you and I would be!\n\nThere is no ground on which we can rest greatness or superiority in\nChrist's kingdom except this ground of service. And there is no use\nthat we can make either of money or of talents, of acquirements or\nopportunities, except the use of helping our fellows with them,\nwhich will stand the test of this model and example. 'It is more\nblessed to give than to receive.' The servant who serves for love is\nhighest in the hierarchy of Heaven. God, who is supreme, has stooped\nlower than any that are beneath Him, and His true rule follows, not\nbecause He is infinite, omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, or any\nof those other pompous Latin words which describe what men call His\nattributes, but because He loves best, and does most for the most.\nAnd that is what you and I ought to be. We may well take the lesson\nto ourselves. I have no space, and, I hope, no need to enlarge upon\nit; but be sure of this, that if we are ever to be near the right\nand the left of the Master in His kingdom, there is one way, and\nonly one way, to come thither, and that is to make self abdicate its\nauthority as the centre of our lives, and to enthrone there Christ,\nand for His sake all our brethren. Be ambitious to be first, but\nremember, _Noblesse oblige_. He that is first must become last.\nHe that is Servant of all is Master of all. That is the only mastery\nthat is worth anything, the devotion of hearts that circle round the\nsource from which they draw light and warmth. What is it that makes\na mother the queen of her children? Simply that all her life she has\nbeen their servant, and never thought about herself, but always\nabout them.\n\nNow much might be said as to the application of these threadbare\nprinciples in the Church and in society, but I do not enlarge on\nthat; only let me say in a word--that here is the one law on which\npreeminence in the Church is to be allocated.\n\nWhat becomes of sacerdotal hierarchies, what becomes of the 'lords\nover God's heritage,' if the one ground of pre-eminence is service?\nI know, of course, that there may be different forms embodying one\nprinciple, but it seems to me that that form of Church polity is\nnearest the mind of Christ in which the only dignity is dignity of\nservice, and the only use of place is the privilege of stooping and\nhelping.\n\nThis fruitful principle will one day shape civil as well as\necclesiastical societies. For the present, our Lord draws a contrast\nbetween the worldly and the Christian notions of rank and dignity.\n'It shall not be so among you,' says He. And the nobler conception\nof eminence and service set forth in His disciples, if they are true\nto their Lord and their duty, will leaven, and we may hope finally\ntransform society, sweeping away all vulgar notions of greatness as\ndepending on birth, or wealth, or ruder forms of powers, and\nmarshalling men according to Christ's order of precedence, in which\nhelpfulness is preeminence and service is supremacy, while\nconversely pre-eminence is used to help and superiority stoops to\nserve.\n\nOne remark will close my sermon. You have to take the last words of\nthis verse if you are ever going to put in practice its first words.\n'Even as the Son of Man came, not to be ministered unto, but to\nminister,'--if Jesus Christ had stopped there He would only have\nbeen one more of the long roll of ineffectual preachers and prophets\nwho show men the better way, and leave them struggling in the mire.\nBut He did not stop there: 'Even as the Son of Man came ... to give\nHis life a ransom for many.'\n\nAh! the Cross, with its burden of the sacrifice for the world's sin,\nis the only power which will supply us with a sufficient motive for\nthe loftiness of Christlike service. I know that there is plenty of\nentirely irreligious and Christless beneficence in the world. And\nGod forbid that I should say a word to seem to depreciate that. But\nsure I am that for the noblest, purest, most widely diffused and\nblessedly operative kinds of service of man, there is no motive and\nspring anywhere except 'He loved me, and gave Himself for me.' And,\nbought by that service and that blood, it will be possible, and it\nis obligatory upon all of us, to 'do unto others,' as He Himself\nsaid, 'as I have done to you.' 'The servant is not greater than his\nLord.'\n\n\n\n\nWHAT THE HISTORIC CHRIST TAUGHT ABOUT HIS DEATH\n\n\n    'The Son of Man came... to give His life a ransom for\n    many.'--Matt. xx. 28.\n\nWe hear a great deal at present about going back to 'the Christ of\nthe Gospels.' In so far as that phrase and the movement of thought\nwhich it describes are a protest against the substitution of\ndoctrines for the Person whom the doctrines represent, I, for one,\nrejoice in it. But I believe that the antithesis suggested by the\nphrase, and by some of its advocates avowed, between the Christ of\nthe Gospels and the Christ of the Epistles, is false. The Christ of\nthe Gospels is the Christ of the Epistles, as I humbly venture to\nbelieve. And I cannot but see that there is a possibility of a\nmovement which, carried out legitimately, should command the fullest\nsympathy of every Christian heart, degenerating into the rejection\nof all the supernatural elements in the nature and work of our Lord,\nand leaving us with a meagre human Christ, shrunken and impotent.\nThe Christ of the Gospels, by all means; but let it be the whole\nChrist of all the Gospels, the Christ over whose cradle angels sang,\nby whose empty grave angels watched, whose ascending form angels\nbeheld and proclaimed that He should come again to be our Judge. Go\nback to that Christ, and all will be well.\n\nNow it seems to me that one direction in which there is a\npossibility of such movement as I have referred to being one-sided\nand harmful is in reference to the conception which we form of the\ndeath of Jesus Christ. And therefore I ask you to listen for a few\nmoments to me at this time whilst I try to bring out what is plain\nin the words before us; and is, as I humbly believe, interwoven in\nthe whole texture of all the Gospels--viz., the conception which\nJesus Christ Himself formed of the meaning of His death.\n\nI. The first thing that I notice is that the Christ of the Gospels\nthought and taught that His death was to be His own act.\n\nI do not think that it is an undue or pedantic pressing of the\nsignificance of the words before us, if I ask you to notice two of\nthe significant expressions in this text. 'The Son of Man\n_came_,' and came 'to _give_ His life.' The one word refers to the act\nof entrance into, the other to the act of departure from, this earthly\nlife. They correspond in so far as that both bring into prominence\nChrist's own consent, volition, and action in the very two things\nabout which men are least consulted, their being born and their dying.\n\n'The Son of Man came.' Now if that expression occurred but once it\nmight be minimised as being only a synonym for birth, having no\nspecial force. But if you will notice that it is our Lord's habitual\nword about Himself, only varied occasionally by another one equally\nsignificant when he says that He 'was sent'; and if you will further\nnotice that all through the Gospels He never but once speaks of\nHimself as being 'born,' I think you will admit that I am not making\ntoo much of a word when I say that when Christ, out of the depths of\nHis consciousness, said 'the Son of Man _came_,' He was teaching\nus that He lived before He was born, and that behind the natural fact\nof birth there lay the supernatural fact of His choosing to be\nincarnated for man's redemption.  The one instance in which He does\nspeak of Himself as 'being born' is most instructive in this\nconnection. For it was before the Roman governor; and He accompanied\nthe clause in which He said, 'To this end was I born'--which was\nadapted to Pilate's level of intelligence--with another one which\nseemed to be inserted to satisfy His own sense of fitness, rather\nthan for any light that it would give to its first hearer, 'And for\nthis cause came I into the world.' The two things were not synonymous;\nbut before the birth there was the coming, and Jesus was born because\nthe Eternal Word willed to come. So says the Christ of the Gospels;\nand the Christ of the Epistles is represented as 'taking upon Him\nthe form of a servant, and being found in fashion as a man.' Do you\naccept that as true of 'the historic Christ'?\n\nWith precise correspondence, if we turn to the other end of His\nlife, we find the equally significant expression in my text which\nasserts for it, too, that the other necessity to which men\nnecessarily and without their own volition bow was to Christ a\nmatter of choice. 'The Son of Man came to _give_.' 'No man\ntaketh it from Me,' as He said on another occasion. 'I lay it down\nof Myself.' 'The Good Shepherd giveth His life for the sheep.' 'My\nflesh ... I give for the world's life.' Now, brethren, we are not to\nregard these words as mere vague expressions for a willing surrender\nto the necessity of death, but as expressing what I believe is\ntaught us all through Scripture, and is fundamental to any real\ngrasp of the real Christ, that He died because He chose, and chose\nbecause He loved. What meant that 'loud voice' with which He said\n'It is finished,' but that there was no physical exhaustion, such as\nwas usually the immediate occasion of death by crucifixion? What\nmeant that surprising rapidity with which the last moment came in\nHis case, to the astonishment of the stolid bystanders? They meant\nthe same thing as I believe that the Evangelists meant when they,\nwith one consent, employed expressions to describe Christ's death,\nwhich may indeed be only euphemisms, but are apparently declarations\nof its voluntary character. 'He gave up the ghost.' 'He yielded His\nSpirit.' He breathed forth His life, and so He died.\n\nAs one of the old fathers said, 'Who is this that thus falls asleep\nwhen He wills? To die is weakness, but thus to die is power.' 'The\nweakness of God is stronger than man.' The desperate king of Israel\nbade his slave kill him, and when the menial shrunk from such\nsacrilege he fell upon his own sword. Christ bade His servant Death,\n'Do this,' and he did it; and dying, our Lord and Master declared\nHimself the Lord and Master of Death. This is a part of the history\nof the historic Christ. Do you believe it?\n\nII. Then, secondly, the Christ of the Gospels thought and taught\nthat His death was one chief aim of His coming.\n\nI have omitted words from my text which intervene between its first\nand its last ones; not because I regard them as unimportant, but\nbecause they would lead us into too wide a field to cover in one\nsermon. But I would pray you to observe how the re-insertion of them\nthrows immense light upon the significance of the words which I have\nchosen. 'The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to\nminister.' That covers the whole ground of His gracious and gentle\ndealings here on earth, His tenderness, self-abnegation, sympathy,\nhealing, and helpfulness. Then, side by side with that, and as the\ncrowning manifestation of His work of service, without which His\nlife--gracious, radiant, sweet as it is--would still want something\nof its power, He sets His death.\n\nSurely that is an altogether unexampled phenomenon; altogether a\nunique and unparalleled thing, that a _man_ should regard that\nwhich for all workers, thinkers, speakers, poets, philanthropists,\nis the sad term of their activity, as being a part of His work; and\nnot only a part, but so conspicuous a part that it was a purpose\nwhich He had in view from the very beginning, and before the\nbeginning, of His earthly life. So Calvary was to Jesus Christ no\ninterruption, tragic and premature, of His life's activities. His\ndeath was no mere alternative set before Him, which He chose rather\nthan be unfaithful or dumb. He did not die because He was hounded by\nhostile priests, but He came on purpose that He might so end His\ncareer.\n\nI need not remind you of, and space would not permit me to dwell\nupon, other instances in the Gospels in which our Lord speaks the\nsame language. At the very beginning of His public ministry He told\nthe inquiring rabbi, who came to Him with the notion that He would\nbe somewhat flattered by His recognition by one of the authoritative\nand wise pundits of the nation, that 'the Son of Man must be lifted\nup.' The necessity was before Him, but it was no unwelcome\nnecessity, for it sprung from His own love. It was the very aim of\nHis coming, to live a Servant and to die a Ransom.\n\nDear brethren, let me press upon you this plain truth, that no\nconception of Christ's death which looks upon it merely as the\nclose, by pathetic sufferings, of a life to the activities of which\nit adds nothing but pathos, approaches the signification of it which\ninheres in the thought that this was the aim and purpose with which\nJesus Christ was incarnate, that He should live indeed the pure and\nsweet life which He lived, but equally that He should die the\npainful and bitter death which He died. He was not merely a martyr,\nthough the first of them, but something far more, as we shall see\npresently. If to you the death of Jesus Christ is the same in kind,\nhowever superior in degree, as those of patriots and reformers and\nwitnesses for the truth and martyrs for righteousness, then I humbly\nventure to represent that, instead of going back to, you have gone\naway from, the Christ of the Gospels, who said, 'The Son of Man came\n... to give His life'; and that such a Christ is not a historic but\nan imaginary one.\n\nIII. So, thirdly, notice that the Christ of the Gospels thought and\ntaught that His death was a ransom.\n\nA ransom is a price paid in exchange for captives that they may be\nliberated; or for culprits that they may be set free. And that was\nChrist's thought of what He had to die for. There lay the 'must.'\n\nI do not dwell upon the conception of our condition involved in that\nword. We are all bound and held by the chain of our sins. We all\nstand guilty before God, and, as I believe, there is a necessity in\nthat loving divine nature whereby it is impossible that without a\nransom there can be, in the interests of mankind and in the\ninterests of righteousness, forgiveness of sins. I do not mean that\nin the words before us there is a developed theory of atonement, but\nI do mean that no man, dealing with them fairly, can strike out of\nthem the notion of vicarious suffering in exchange for, or instead\nof, 'the many.' This is no occasion for theological discussion, nor\nam I careful now to set forth a fully developed doctrine; but I am\ndeclaring, as God helps me, what is to me, and I pray may be to you,\nthe central thought about that Cross of Calvary, that on it there is\nmade the sacrifice for the world's sins.\n\nAnd, dear brethren, I beseech you to consider, how can we save the\ncharacter of Jesus Christ, accepting these Gospels, which on the\nhypothesis about which I am now speaking are valid sources of\nknowledge, without recognising that He deliberately led His\ndisciples to believe that He died for--that is, instead of--them\nthat put their trust in Him? For remember that not only such words\nas these of my text are to be taken into account. Remember that it\nwas the Christ of the Gospels who established that last rite of the\nLord's Supper, in which the broken bread, and the separation between\nthe bread and the wine, both indicated a violent death, and who said\nabout both the one and the other of the double symbols, 'For you.' I\ndo not understand how any body of professing believers, rejecting\nChrist's death as the sacrifice for sin, can find a place in their\nbeliefs or in their practice for that institution of the Lord's\nSupper, or can rightly interpret the sacred words then spoken. This\nis why the Cross was Christ's aim. This is why He said, with His\ndying breath, 'It is finished.' This truth is the explanation of His\nwords, 'The Good Shepherd giveth His life for the sheep.'\n\nAnd this truth of a ransom-price lies at the basis of all vigorous\nChristianity. A Christianity without a dying Christ is a dying\nChristianity. And history shows us that the expansiveness and\nelevating power of the Gospel depend on the prominence given to the\nsacrifice on the Cross. An old fable says that the only thing that\nmelts adamant is the blood of a lamb. The Gospel reveals the\nprecious blood of Jesus Christ, His death for us as a ransom, as the\none power which subdues hostility and binds hearts to Him. The\nChrist of the Gospels is the Christ who taught that He died for us.\n\nIV. Lastly, the Christ of the Gospels thought and taught that His\ndeath had world-wide power.\n\nHe says here, 'A ransom for _many_.' Now that word is not used\nin this instance in contradistinction to 'all,' nor in\ncontradistinction to 'few.' It is distinctly employed as emphasising\nthe contrast between the single death and the wide extent of its\nbenefits; and in terms which, rigidly taken, simply express\nindefiniteness, it expresses universality. That that is so seems to\nme to be plain enough, if we notice other places of Scripture to\nwhich, at this stage of my sermon, I can but allude. For instance,\nin Romans v. the two expressions, 'the many' and the 'all,'\nalternate in reference to the extent of the power of Christ's\nsacrifice for men. And the Apostle in another place, where probably\nthere may be an allusion to the words of the text, so varies them as\nthat he declares that Jesus Christ in His death was the ransom\n'instead of all.' But I do not need to dwell upon these. 'Many' is a\nvague word, and in it we see dim crowds stretching away beyond our\nvision, for whom that death was to be the means of salvation. I take\nit that the words of our text have an allusion to those in the great\nprophecy in the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, in which we read, 'By\nHis knowledge shall My righteous Servant' (mark the allusion in our\ntext, 'Who came to _minister_') 'justify many, for He shall\nbear their iniquities.'\n\nSo, brethren, I believe that I am not guilty of unduly widening out our\nLord's thought when I say that the indefinite 'many' is practically\n'all.' And, brother, if 'all,' then _you_; if all, then _me_; if\nall, then _each_. Think of a man, nineteen centuries ago, away\nin a little insignificant corner of the world, standing up and saying,\n'My death is the price paid in exchange for the world!' That is\nmeekness and lowliness of heart, is it? That is humility, so beautiful\nin a teacher, is it? How any man can accept the veracity of these\nnarratives, believe that Jesus Christ said anything the least like\nthis, not believe that He was the Divine Son of the Father, the\nSacrifice for the world's sin, and yet profess--and honestly profess,\nI doubt not, in many cases--to retain reverence and admiration, all\nbut adoration, for Him, I confess that I, for my poor part, cannot\nunderstand.\n\nBut I ask you, what you are going to do with these thoughts and\nteachings of the Christ of the Gospels. Are you going to take them\nfor true? Are, you going to trust your salvation to Him? Are you\ngoing to accept the ransom and say, 'O Lord, truly I am Thy servant;\nThou hast loosed my bonds'? Brethren, the Christ of the Gospels, by\nall means; but the Christ that said, 'The Son of Man came to ...\ngive His life a ransom for many.' My Christ, and your Christ, and\nthe world's Christ is 'the Christ that died; yea, rather, that is\nrisen again; who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh\nintercession for us.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE COMING OF THE KING TO HIS PALACE\n\n\n    'And when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem, and were come\n    to Bethphage, unto the mount of Olives, then sent Jesus\n    two disciples, 2. Saying unto them, Go into the village\n    over against you, and straightway ye shall find an ass\n    tied, and a colt with her: loose them, and bring them\n    unto Me. 3. And if any man say ought unto you, ye shall\n    say, The Lord hath need of them; and straightway he\n    will send them. 4. All this was done, that it might be\n    fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, saying,\n    5. Tell ye the daughter of Sion, Behold, thy King\n    cometh unto thee, meek, and sitting upon an ass, and a\n    colt the foal of an ass. 6. And the disciples went, and\n    did as Jesus commanded them, 7. And brought the ass,\n    and the colt, and put on them their clothes, and they\n    set Him thereon. 8. And a very great multitude spread\n    their garments in the way; others cut down branches\n    from the trees, and strawed them in the way. 9. And the\n    multitudes that went before, and that followed, cried,\n    saying, Hosanna to the Son of David: Blessed is He that\n    cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest.\n    10. And when He was come into Jerusalem, all the city\n    was moved, saying, Who is this? 11. And the multitude\n    said, This is Jesus the prophet of Nazareth of Galilee.\n    12. And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out\n    all them that sold and bought in the temple, and\n    overthrew the tables of the moneychangers, and the\n    seats of them that sold doves, 13. And said unto them,\n    It is written, My house shall be called the house of\n    prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves. 14. And\n    the blind and the lame came to Him in the temple; and\n    He healed them. 15. And when the chief priests and\n    scribes saw the wonderful things that He did, and the\n    children crying in the temple, and saying, Hosanna to\n    the Son of David, they were sore displeased, 16. And\n    said unto Him, Hearest Thou what these say? And Jesus\n    saith unto them, Yea; have ye never read, Out of the\n    mouth of babes and sucklings Thou hast perfected praise?'\n    --MATT. xxi. 1-16.\n\nJesus spent His last Sabbath in the quiet home at Bethany with\nLazarus and his sisters. Some sense of His approaching death tinged\nthe modest festivities of that evening with sadness, and spoke in\nMary's 'anointing of His body for the burying.' The pause was brief,\nand, with the dawn of Sunday, He set Himself again to tread the road\nto the cross. Who can doubt that He felt the relief of that\nmomentary relaxation of the strain on His spirit, and the\ncorresponding pressure of its renewed tightening? This passage shows\nHim putting out from the quiet haven and facing the storm again. It\nis in two main sections, dealing respectively with the royal\nprocession, and the acts of the King in the temple.\n\nI. The procession of the King. The first noteworthy point is that\nour Lord initiates the whole incident, and deliberately sets Himself\nto evoke the popular enthusiasm, by a distinct voluntary fulfilment\nof a Messianic prophecy. The allusion to the prophecy, in His\nsending for the colt and mounting it, may have escaped the disciples\nand the crowds of pilgrims; but they rightly caught His intention to\nmake a solemn triumphal entry into the city, and responded with a\nburst of enthusiasm, which He expected and wished. The poor garments\nflung hastily on the animals, the travel-stained cloaks cast on the\nrocky path, the branches of olive and palm waved in the hands, and\nthe tumult of acclaim, which shrilly echoed the words of the psalm,\nand proclaimed Him to be the Son of David, are all tokens that the\ncrowds hailed Him as their King, and were all permitted and welcomed\nby Him. All this is in absolute opposition to His usual action,\nwhich had been one long effort to damp down inflammable and\nunspiritual Messianic hopes, and to avoid the very enthusiasm which\nnow surges round Him unchecked. Certainly that calm figure, sitting\non the slow-pacing ass, with the noisy multitude pressing round Him,\nis strangely unlike Him, who hid Himself among the hills when they\nsought to make Him a King. His action is the more remarkable, if it\nbe remembered that the roads were alive with pilgrims, most of whom\npassing through Bethany would be Galileans; that they had seen\nLazarus walking about the village, and knew who had raised him; that\nthe Passover festival was _the_ time in all the year when\npopular tumults were to be expected; and that the crowds going to\nJerusalem were met by a crowd coming from it, bent on seeing the\ndoer and the subject of the great miracle. Into this heap of\ncombustibles our Lord puts a light. He must have meant that it\nshould blaze as it did.\n\nWhat is the reason for this contrast? The need for the former\nreticence no longer existed. There was no fear now of His teaching\nand ministry being interrupted by popular outburst. He knew that it\nwas finished, and that His hour had come. Therefore, the same motive\nof filial obedience which had led Him to avoid what would prevent\nHis discharging His Father's commission, now impelled Him to draw\nthe attention of the nation and its rulers to the full extent of His\nclaims, and to put the plain issue of their acceptance or rejection\nin the most unmistakable manner. A certain divine decorum, if we may\nso call it, required that once He should enter the city as its King.\nSome among the shouting crowds might have their enthusiasm purified\nand spiritualised, if once it were directed to Him. It was for us,\nno less than for them, that this one interruption of His ordinary\nmethod was adopted by Him, that we too might ponder the fact that He\nlaid His hand on that magnificent prophecy, and said, 'It is mine. I\nam the King.'\n\nThe royal procession is also a revelation of the character of the\nKing and the nature of His kingdom. A strange King this, indeed, who\nhas not even an ass of His own, and for followers, peasants with\npalm branches instead of swords! What would a Roman soldier or one\nof Herod's men have thought of that rustic procession of a pauper\nprince on an ass, and a hundred or two of weaponless, penniless men?\nChrist's one moment of royal pomp is as eloquent of His humiliation\nas the long stretch of His lowly life is. And yet, as is always the\ncase, side by side with the lowliness there gleams the veiled\nsplendour. He had to borrow the colt, and the message in which He\nasks for it is a strange paradox. 'The Lord hath need of him'--so\ngreat was the poverty of so great a King. But it spoke, too, of a\nmore than human knowledge, and of an authority which had only to\nrequire in order to receive. Some farming villager, no doubt, who\nwas a disciple but secretly, gladly yielded his beasts. The prophecy\nwhich Matthew quotes, with the omission of some words, from\nZechariah, and the addition of the first clause from Isaiah, is\nsymbolic, and would have been amply fulfilled in the mission and\ncharacter of Christ, though this event had never taken place. But\njust as it is symbolic, so this external fulfilment, which is\nintended to point to the real fulfilment, is also symbolic. The\nchariot and the horse are the emblems of conquerors. It is fitting\nthat the Prince of Peace should make His state entry on a colt,\nunridden before, and saddled only with a garment. Zechariah meant\nthat Zion's King should not reign by the right of the strongest, and\nthat all His triumphs should be won by lowly meekness. Christ meant\nthe same by His remarkable act. And has not the picture of Him,\nthroned thus, stamped for ever on the imagination of the world a\nprofounder sense of the inmost nature of His kingdom than many words\nwould have done? Have we learned the lesson of the gentleness which\nbelongs to His kingdom, and of the unchristian character of war and\nviolence? Do we understand what the Psalmist meant when he sang, 'In\nthy majesty ride on prosperously, because of ... meekness'? Let us\nnot forget the other picture, 'Behold, a white horse, and He that\nsat thereon, called Faithful and True; and in righteousness He doth\njudge and make war.'\n\nThe entry may remind us also of the worthlessness of mere enthusiastic\nfeeling in reference to Jesus Christ. The day was the Sunday. How many\nof that crowd were shouting as loudly, 'Crucify Him!' and 'Not this\nman, but Barabbas!' on the Friday? The palm-branches had not faded,\nwhere they had been tossed, before the fickle crowd had swung round\nto the opposite mood. Perhaps the very exuberance of feeling at the\nbeginning, had something to do with the bitterness of the execrations\nat the end, of the week. He had not answered their expectations, but,\ninstead of heading a revolt, had simply taught in the temple, and\nmeekly let Himself be laid hold of. Nothing succeeds like success,\nand no idol is so quickly forsaken as the idol of a popular rising.\nAll were eager to disclaim connection with Him, and to efface the\nremembrance of their Sunday's hosannas by their groans round His\ngibbet. But there is a wider lesson here. No enthusiasm can be too\nintense which is based upon a true sense of our need of Christ, and\nof His work for us; but it is easy to excite apparently religious\nemotion by partial presentations of Him, and such excitement foams\nitself away by its very violence, like some Eastern river that in\nwinter time dashes down the wady with irresistible force, and in\nsummer is bone dry. Unless we know Christ to be the Saviour of our\nsouls and the Lamb of God, we shall soon tire of singing hosannas in\nHis train, and want a king with more pretensions; but if we have\nlearned who and what He is to us, then let us open our mouths wide,\nand not be afraid of letting the world hear our shout of praise.\n\nII. The coming of the King in the temple. The discussion of the\naccuracy of Matthew's arrangement of events here is unnecessary. He\nhas evidently grouped, as usual, incidents which have a common\nbearing, and wishes to put these three, of the cleansing, the\nhealing, and the pleasure in the children's praise, as the\ncharacteristic acts of the King in the temple. We can scarcely avoid\nseeing in the first of the three a reference to Malachi's prophecy,\n'The Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to His temple ... And\nHe shall purify the sons of Levi.' His first act, when in manhood He\nvisited the temple, had been to cleanse. His first act when He\nenters it as its Lord is the same. The abuse had grown again apace.\nMuch could be said in its vindication, as convenient and harmless,\nand it was too profitable to be lightly abandoned. But the altar of\nMammon so near the altar of God was sacrilege in His eyes, and\nthough He had passed the traders unmolested many times since that\nfirst driving out, now that He solemnly comes to claim His rights,\nHe cannot but repeat it. It is perhaps significant that His words\nnow have both a more sovereign and a more severe tone than before.\nThen He had spoken of 'My Father's house,' now it is 'My house,'\nwhich are a part of His quotation indeed, but not therefore\nnecessarily void of reference to Himself. He is exercising the\nauthority of a son over His own house, and bears Himself as Lord of\nthe temple. Before, He charged them with making it a 'house of\nmerchandise'; now, with turning it into a robber's cave. Evil\nrebuked and done again is worse than before. Trafficking in things\npertaining to the altar is even more likely than other trading to\ncross the not always very well defined line which separates trade\nfrom trickery and commerce from theft. That lesson needs to be laid\nto heart in many quarters now. There is always a fringe of moneyed\ninterests round Christ's Church, seeking gain out of religious\ninstitutions; and their stands have a wonderful tendency to creep\ninwards from the court of the Gentiles to holier places. The\nparasite grows very quickly, and Christ had to deal with it more\nthan once to keep down its growth. The sellers of doves and changers\nof money into the sacred shekel were venial offenders compared with\nmany in the Church, and the race is not extinct. If Christ were to\ncome to His house to-day, in bodily form, who doubts that He would\nbegin, as He did before, by driving the traders out of His temple?\nHow many 'most respectable' usages and people would have to go, if\nHe did!\n\nThe second characteristic, or we might say symbolical, act is the\nhealing of the blind and lame. Royal state and cleansing severity\nare wonderfully blended with tender pity and the gentle hand of\nsovereign virtue to heal. The very manifestation of the former drew\nthe needy to Him; and the blind, though they could not see, and the\nlame, though they could not walk, managed to grope and hobble their\nway to Him, not afraid of His severity, nor daunted by His royalty.\nNo doubt they haunted the temple precincts as beggars, with perhaps\nas little sense of its sacredness as the money-changers; but their\nmisery kindled a flicker of confidence and desire, to which He who\ntends the dimmest wick till it breaks into clear flame could not but\nrespond. Though in His house He casts out the traders, He will heal\nthe cripples and the blind, who know their need, and faintly trust\nHis heart and power. Such a trait could not be wanting in this\ntypical representation of the acts of the King.\n\nFinally, He encourages and casts the shield of His approval round\nthe children's praises. How natural it is that the children, pleased\nwith the stir and not yet drilled into conventionalism, should have\nkept up their glad shouts, even inside the temple enclosure! How\ntheir fresh treble voices ring yet through all these centuries! The\npriests had, no doubt, been nursing their wrath at all that had been\ngoing on, but they had not dared to interfere with the cleansing,\nnor, for very shame, with the healings; but now they see their\nopportunity. This is a clear breach of all propriety, and that is\nthe crime of crimes in the eyes of such people. They had kept quite\ncool and serenely contemptuous, amid the stir of the glad\nprocession, and they did not much care though He healed some\nbeggars; but to have this unseemly noise, though it was praise, was\nmore than they could stand. Ecclesiastical martinets, and men whose\nreligion is mostly ceremony, are, of course, more 'moved with\nindignation' at any breach of ceremonial regulations than at holes\nmade in graver laws. Nothing makes men more insensitive to the ring\nof real worship than being accustomed to the dull decorum of formal\nworship. Christ answers their 'hearest thou?' with a 'did ye never\nread?' and shuts their mouths with words so apposite in their\nplainest meaning that even they are silenced. To Him these young\nringing hosannas are 'perfect praise,' and worth any quantity of\nrabbis' preachments. In their deeper sense, His words declare that\nthe ears of God and of His Son, the Lord of the temple, are more\ngladly filled with the praises of the 'little ones,' who know their\nweakness, and hymn His goodness with simple tongue, than with\nheartless eloquence of words or pomp of worship. The psalm from\nwhich the words are taken declares man's superiority over the\nhighest works of God's hands, and the perfecting of the divine\npraise from his lips. We are but as the little children of creation,\nbut because we know sin and redemption, we lead the chorus of\nheaven. As St. Bernard says, 'Something is wanting to the praise of\nheaven, if those be wanting who can say, \"We went through fire and\nthrough water; and Thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place.\"' In\nlike manner, those praise Him most acceptably among men who know\ntheir feebleness, and with stammering lips humbly try to breathe\ntheir love, their need, and their trust.\n\n\n\n\nA NEW KIND OF KING\n\n\n    'All this was done, that it might be fulfilled which\n    was spoken by the prophet, saying, Tell ye the daughter\n    of Zion, Behold, thy King cometh unto thee, meek, and\n    sitting upon an ass.'--MATT. xxi. 4, 5.\n\nOur Lord's entrance into Jerusalem is one of the comparatively few\nevents which are recorded in all the four Gospels. Its singular\nunlikeness to the rest of His life, and its powerful influence in\nbringing about the Crucifixion, may account for its prominence in\nthe narratives. It took place probably on the Sunday of Passion\nWeek. Before the palm branches were withered the enthusiasm had died\naway, and the shouting crowd had found out that this was not the\nsort of king that they wanted. They might have found that out, even\nby the very circumstances of the entrance, for they were profoundly\nsignificant; though their meaning, like so much of the rest of\nChrist's life, was less clear to the partakers and spectators than\nit is to us. 'These things understood not the disciples at the\nfirst,' says John in closing his narrative of the entrance, 'but\nwhen Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that they had done\nthese things unto Him.'\n\nMy object in this sermon is not at all to attempt a pictorial\ntreatment of this narrative, for these Gospels tell it us a great\ndeal better than any of us can tell it after them; but to seek to\nbring out, if it may be, two or three aspects of its significance.\n\nI. First, then, I ask you to consider its significance as an\naltogether exceptional fact in Christ's life.\n\nThroughout the whole of the preceding period, He had had two aims\ndistinctly in view. One was to shun publicity; and the other was to\ndamp down the heated, vulgar anticipations of the multitude, who\nexpected a temporal king. And now here He deliberately, and of set\npurpose, takes a step which is like flinging a spark into a powder\nbarrel. The nation was assembled in crowds, full of the unwholesome\nexcitement which attended their meeting for the annual feast. All\nwere in a quiver of expectation; and knowing that, Jesus Christ\noriginates this scene by His act of sending the two disciples into\nthe village over against them, to 'bring the ass, and the colt the\nfoal of an ass.' The reasons for a course so entirely opposed to all\nthe preceding must have been strong. Let us try to see what they\nwere.\n\nFirst, He did it in order to precipitate the conflict which was to end\nin His death. Now, had He any right to do that? Knowing as He did the\nferment of expectation into which He was thrusting this new element\nof disturbance, and foreseeing, as He must have done, that it would\nsharpen the hostility of the rulers of the people to a murderous\ndegree, how can He be acquitted of one of two things--either singular\nshortsightedness or rash foolhardiness in taking such a step? Was He\njustified, or was He not?\n\nIf we are to look at His conduct from ordinary points of view, the\nanswer must certainly be that He was not. And we can only understand\nthis, and all the rest of His actions during the fateful three or\nfour days that followed it, if we recognise in them the fixed\nresolve of One who knew that His mission was not only to live and to\nteach by word and life, but to die, and by death to deliver the\nworld. I take it that it is very hard to save the character of Jesus\nChrist for our reverence if we refuse to regard His death as for our\nredemption. But if He came, and knew that He came, not only 'to\nminister' but 'to give His life a ransom for many,' then we can\nunderstand how He hastened to the Cross, and deliberately set a\nlight to the train which was to end in that great explosion. On any\nother hypothesis it seems to me immensely hard to account for His\nact here.\n\nThen, still further, looking at this distinctly exceptional fact in\nour Lord's life, we see in it a very emphatic claim to very singular\nprerogative and position. He not only thereby presented Himself\nbefore the nation in their collective capacity as being the King of\nIsrael, but He also did a very strange thing. He dressed Himself, so\nto speak, in order to fulfil a prophecy. He posed before the world\nas being the Person who was meant by sacred old words. And His\nEntrance upon the slow-pacing colt was His voluntary and solemn\nassertion that He was the Person of whom the whole stream and\ncurrent of divinely sent premonitions and forecasts had been\nwitnessing from the beginning. He claimed thereby to be the King of\nIsrael and the Fulfiller of the divine promises that were of old.\n\nNow again, I have to ask the question, Was He right, or was He\nwrong? If He was right, then He is a great deal more than a wise\nTeacher, and a perfect Example of excellence. If He was wrong, He is\na great deal less. There is no escape from that alternative, as it\nseems to me, but by the desperate expedient of denying that He ever\ndid this thing which this narrative tells us that He did. At all\nevents I beseech you all, dear friends, to take fairly into your\naccount of the character of Jesus Christ, this fact, that He, the\nmeek, the gentle, said that He was meek, and everybody has believed\nHim; and that once, in the very crisis of His life, and in\ncircumstances which make the act most conspicuous, He who always\nshunned publicity, nor 'caused His voice to be heard in the\nstreets,' and steadfastly put away from Himself the vulgar homage\nthat would have degraded Him into a mere temporal monarch, did\nassert that He was the King of Israel and the Fulfiller of prophecy.\nAsk yourselves, What does that fact mean?\n\nAnd then, still further, looking at the act as exceptional in our\nLord's life, note that it was done in order to make one final,\nsolemn appeal and offer to the men who beheld Him. It was the last\nbolt in His quiver. All else had failed, perhaps this might succeed.\nWe know not the depths of the mysteries of that divine foreknowledge\nwhich, even though it foresees failure, ceases not to plead and to\nwoo obstinate hearts. But this we may thankfully learn, that, just\nas with despairing hope, but with unremitting energy, Jesus Christ,\noften rejected, offered Himself once more if perchance He might win\nmen to repentance, so the loving patience and long-suffering of our\nGod cease not to plead ever with us. 'Last of all He sent unto them\nHis Son, saying, They will reverence My Son when they see Him'; and\nyet the expectation was disappointed, and the Son was slain. We\ntouch deep mysteries, but the persistence of the pleading and\nrejected love and pity of our God shine through this  strange fact.\n\nII. And now, secondly, let me ask you to note its significance as a\nsymbol.\n\nThe prophecy which two out of the four evangelists--viz., Matthew and\nJohn--regard as having been, in some sense, fulfilled by the Entrance\ninto Jerusalem, would have been fulfilled quite as truly if there had\nbeen no Entrance. For the mere detail of the prophecy is but a\npicturesque way of setting forth its central and essential point--viz.,\nthe meekness of the King. So our Lord's fulfilment is only an external,\naltogether subsidiary, accomplishment of the prophecy; and in fact,\nlike some other of the external correspondences between His life and\nthe outward details of Old Testament prophecy, is intended for little\nmore than a picture or a signpost which may direct our thoughts to the\ninward correspondence, which is the true fulfilment.\n\nSo then, the deed, like the prophecy after which it is moulded, is\nwholly and entirely of importance in its symbolical aspect.\n\nThe symbolism is clear enough. This is a new kind of King. He comes,\nnot mounted on a warhorse, or thundering across the battlefield in a\nscythe-armed chariot, like the Pharaohs and the Assyrian monarchs,\nwho have left us their vainglorious monuments, but mounted on the\nemblem of meekness, patience, gentleness, and peace. And He is a\npauper King, for He has to borrow the beast on which He rides, and\nHis throne is draped with the poor, perhaps ragged, robes of a\nhandful of fishermen. And His attendants are not warriors bearing\nspears, but peasants with palm branches. And the salutation of His\nroyalty is not the blare of trumpets, but the 'Hosanna!' from a\nthousand throats. That is not the sort of King that the world calls\na King. The Roman soldiers might well have thought they were\nperpetrating an exquisite jest when they thrust the reed into His\nunresisting hand, and crushed down the crown of thorns on His\nbleeding brows.\n\nBut the symbol discloses the very secret of His Kingdom, the\ninnermost mysteries of His own character and of the forces to which\nHe intrusts the further progress of His word. Gentleness is royal\nand omnipotent; force and violence are feeble. The Lord is in the\nstill, small voice, not in the earthquake, nor the fire, nor the\nmighty wind. The dove's light pinion will fly further than the wings\nof Rome's eagles, with their strong talons and blood-dyed beaks. And\nthe kingdom that is established in meekness, and rules by gentleness\nand for gentleness, and has for its only weapons the power of love\nand the omnipotence of patience, that is the kingdom which shall be\neternal and universal.\n\nNow all that is a great deal more than pretty sentiment; it has the\nclosest practical bearing upon our lives. How slow God's Church has\nbeen to believe that the strength of Christ's kingdom is meekness!\nProfessing Christian men have sought to win the world to their side,\nand by wealth or force or persecution, or this, that, or the other\nof the weapons out of the world's armoury, to promote the kingdom of\nChrist. But it has all been in vain. There is only one power that\nconquers hate, and that is meek love. There is only one way by which\nChrist's kingdom can stand firm, and that is its unworldly contrast\nto all the manner of human dominion. Wheresoever God's Church has\nallied itself with secular sovereignties, and trusted in the arm of\nflesh, there has the fine gold become dimmed. Endurance wears out\npersecution, patient submission paralyses hostile violence, for you\ncannot keep on striking down unresisting crowds with the sword. The\nChurch of Christ is an anvil that has been beaten upon by many\nhammers, and it has worn them all out. Meekness is victorious, and\nthe kingdom of Christ can only be advanced by the faithful\nproclamation of His gentle love, from lips that are moved by hearts\nwhich themselves are conformed to His patient image.\n\nThen, still further, let me remind you that this symbol carries in\nit, as it seems to me, the lesson of the radical incompatibility of\nwar with Christ's kingdom and dominion. It has taken the world all\nthese centuries to begin to learn that lesson. But slowly men are\ncoming to it, and the day will dawn when all the pomp of warfare,\nand the hell of evil passions from which it comes, and which it\nstimulates, will be felt to be as utterly incompatible with the\nspirit of Christianity as slavery is felt to-day. The prophecy which\nunderlies our symbol is very significant in this respect.\nImmediately upon that vision of the meek King throned on the colt\nthe foal of an ass, follows this: 'And I will cut off the chariot\nfrom Ephraim, and the horses from Jerusalem; and the battle bow\nshall be cut off, and He shall speak peace unto the heathen.'\n\nLet me beseech you, Christian men and women, to lay to heart the\nduty of Christ's followers in reference to the influence and\nleavening of public opinion upon this matter, and to see to it that,\nin so far as we can help, we set ourselves steadfastly against that\ndevilish spirit which still oppresses with an incubus almost\nintolerable, the nations of so-called Christendom. Lift up your\nvoices be not afraid, but cry, 'We are the followers of the Prince\nof Peace, and we war against the war that is blasphemy against His\ndominion.'\n\nAnd so, still further, note the practical force of this symbol as\ninfluencing our own conduct. We are the followers of the meek\nChrist. It becomes _us_ to walk in all meekness and gentleness.\n'Spirited conduct' is the world's euphemism for unchristian conduct,\nin ninety-nine cases out of the hundred. The perspective of virtue\nhas altered since Jesus Christ taught us how to love. The old\nheathen virtues of magnanimity, fortitude, and the like have 'with\nshame to take a lower room.' There is something better than these.\nThe saint has all the virtues of the old heathen hero, and some more\nbesides, which are higher than these, and those which he has in\ncommon, he has in different proportion. The flaunting tulips and\npeonies of the garden of the world seem to outshine the white\nsnowdrops and the glowing, modest little violets below their leaves,\nbut the former are vulgar, and they drop very soon, and the latter,\nif paler and more delicate, are refined in their celestial beauty.\nThe slow-pacing steed on which Jesus Christ rides will out-travel\nthe fiery warhorse, and will pursue its patient, steadfast path till\nHe 'bring forth righteousness unto judgment,' and 'all the upright\nin heart shall follow Him.'\n\nIII. Lastly, notice the significance of this fact as a prophecy. It\nwas, as I have pointed out, the last solemn appeal to the nation,\nand in a very real sense it was Christ's coming to judgment. It is\nimpossible to look at it without seeing, besides all its other\nmeanings, gleaming dimly through it, the anticipations of that other\ncoming, when the Lord Himself 'shall descend with a shout, with the\nvoice of the Archangel, and the trump of God.'\n\nLet me bring into connection with the scene of my text three others,\ngathered from various parts of Scripture. In the forty-fifth Psalm\nwe find, side by side with the great words, 'Ride on prosperously\nbecause of truth and _meekness_ and righteousness,' the others,\n'Thine arrows are sharp in the hearts of the king's enemies; the\npeople shall fall under Thee.' Now, though it is possible that that\nlater warlike figure may be merely the carrying out of the thought\nwhich is more gently put before us in the former words, still it\nlooks as if there were two sides to the conquering manifestation of\nthe king--one being in 'meekness and truth and righteousness,' and\nthe other in some sense destructive and punitive.\n\nBut, however that may be, my second scene is drawn from the last\nbook of Scripture, where we read that, when the first seal was\nopened, there rode forth a Figure, crowned, mounted upon a white\nsteed, bearing bow and arrow, 'conquering and to conquer.' And,\nthough that again may be but an image of the victorious progress of\nthe gentle Gospel of Jesus Christ throughout the whole earth, still\nit comes as one in a series of judgments, and may rather be taken to\nexpress the punitive effects which follow its proclamation even here\nand now.\n\nBut there can be no doubt with regard to the third of the scenes\nwhich I connect with the incident of which we are discoursing: 'And\nI saw heaven opened, and beheld a white horse; and He that sat upon\nHim was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness doth He judge\nand make war.... And out of His mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with\nit He should smite the nations; and He shall rule them with a rod of\niron; and He treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of\nAlmighty God.' That is the Christ who came into Jerusalem on the colt\nthe foal of an ass. That is the Christ who is meek and long-suffering.\nThere is a reserve of punitive and destructive power in the meek King.\nAnd oh I what can be so terrible as the anger of meekness, the wrath\nof infinite gentleness? In the triumphal entry, we find that, when\nthe procession turned the rocky shoulder of Olivet, and the long line\nof the white city walls, with the gilding of the Temple glittering in\nthe sunshine, burst upon their view, the multitude lifted up their\nvoices in gladness. But Christ sat there, and as He looked across the\nvalley, and beheld, with His divine prescience, the city, now so\njoyous and full of stir, sitting solitary and desolate, He lifted up\nHis voice in loud wailing. The Christ wept because He must punish,\nbut He punished though He wept.\n\nOur Judge is the gentle Jesus, therefore we can hope. The gentle\nJesus is our Judge, therefore let us not presume. I beseech you,\nbrethren, lay, as these poor people did their garments, your lusts\nand proud wills in His way, and join the welcoming shout that hails\nthe King, 'meek and having salvation.' And then, when He comes forth\nto judge and to destroy, you will not be amongst the ranks of the\nenemies, whom He will ride down and scatter, but amongst 'the armies\nthat follow Him, ... clothed in fine linen, clean and pure.'\n\n'Kiss the Son lest He be angry, and ye perish from the way when His\nwrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their\ntrust in Him.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE VINEYARD AND ITS KEEPERS\n\n\n    'Hear another parable: There was a certain householder,\n    which planted a vineyard, and hedged it round about,\n    and digged a winepress in it, and built a tower, and\n    let it out to husbandmen, and went into a far country:\n    34. And when the time of the fruit drew near, he sent\n    his servants to the husbandmen, that they might receive\n    the fruits of it. 35. And the husbandmen took his\n    servants, and beat one, and killed another, and stoned\n    another. 36. Again, he sent other servants more than\n    the first: and they did unto them likewise. 37. But\n    last of all he sent unto them his son, saying, They\n    will reverence my son. 38. But when the husbandmen saw\n    the son, they said among themselves, This is the heir;\n    come, let us kill him, and let us seize on his\n    inheritance. 39. And they caught him, and cast him out\n    of the vineyard, and slew him. 40. When the lord\n    therefore of the vineyard cometh what will he do unto\n    those husbandmen? 41. They say unto him, He will\n    miserably destroy those wicked men, and will let out\n    his vineyard unto other husbandmen, which shall render\n    him the fruits in their seasons. 42. Jesus saith unto\n    them, Did ye never read in the scriptures, The stone\n    which the builders rejected, the same is become the\n    head of the corner: this is the Lord's doing, and it is\n    marvellous in our eyes? 43. Therefore say I unto you,\n    The kingdom of God shall be taken from you, and given\n    to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof. 44. And\n    whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken: but\n    on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to\n    powder. 45. And when the chief priests and Pharisees\n    had heard His parables, they perceived that He spake of\n    them. 46. But when they sought to lay hands on Him,\n    they feared the multitude, because they took Him for a\n    prophet.'--MATT. xxi. 33-46.\n\nThis parable was apparently spoken on the Tuesday of the Passion\nWeek. It was a day of hand-to-hand conflict with the Jewish\nauthorities and of exhausting toil, as the bare enumeration of its\nincidents shows. It included all that Matthew records between verse\n20 of this chapter and the end of the twenty-fifth chapter--the\nanswer to the deputation from the Sanhedrin; the three parables\noccasioned by it, namely, those of the two sons, this one, and that\nof the marriage of the king's son; the three answers to the traps of\nthe Pharisees and Herodians about the tribute, of the Sadducees\nabout the resurrection, and of the ruler about the chief\ncommandment; Christ's question to His questioners about the Son and\nLord of David; the stern woes hurled at the unmasked hypocrites; to\nwhich must be added, from other gospels, the sweet eulogium on the\nwidow's mite, and the deep saying to the Greeks about the corn of\nwheat, with, possibly, the incident of the woman taken in adultery;\nand then, following all these, the solemn prophecies of the end\ncontained in Matthew xxiv. and xxv., spoken on the way to Bethany,\nas the evening shadows were falling. What a day! What a fountain of\nwisdom and love which poured out such streams! The pungent severity\nof this parable, with its transparent veil of narrative, is only\nappreciated by keeping clearly in view the circumstances and the\nlisteners. They had struck at Jesus with their question as to His\nauthority, and He parries the blow. Now it is His turn, and the\nsharp point goes home.\n\nI. The first stage is the preparation of the vineyard, in which\nthree steps are marked. It is planted and furnished with all\nappliances needful for making wine, which is its great end. The\ndirect divine origin of the religious ideas and observances of\n'Judaism' is thus asserted by Christ. The only explanation of them\nis that God enclosed that bit of the wilderness, and with His own\nhands set growing there these exotics. Neither the theology nor the\nritual is of man's establishing. We need not seek for special\nmeanings for wall, wine-press, and tower. They simply express the\ncompleteness of the equipment of the vineyard, as in Isaiah's song,\nwhich lies at the foundation of the parable, and suggest his\nquestion, 'What could have been done more?'\n\nThus furnished, the vineyard is next handed over to the husbandmen,\nwho, in Matthew, are exclusively the rulers, while in Luke they are\nthe people. No doubt it was 'like people, like priest.' The strange\ndominion of the Pharisees rested entirely on popular consent, and\ntheir temper accurately indexed that of the nation. The Sanhedrin\nwas the chief object at which Christ aimed the parable. But it only\ngave form and voice to the national spirit, and 'the people loved to\nhave it so.' National responsibilities are not to be slipped out of\nby being shifted on to the broad shoulders of governments or\ninfluential men. Who lets them be governments and influential?\n\n  'Guv'ment ain't to answer for it,\n   God will send the bill to you.'\n\nChrist here teaches both rulers and ruled the ground and purpose of\ntheir privileges. They prided themselves on these as their own, but\nthey were only tenants. They made their 'boast of the law'; but they\nforgot that fruit was the end of the divine planting and equipment.\nHoliness and glad obedience were what God sought, and when He found\nthem, He was refreshed as with 'grapes in the wilderness.'\n\nHaving installed the husbandmen, the owner goes into another\ncountry. The cluster of miracles which inaugurate an epoch of\nrevelation are not continued beyond its beginning. Centuries of\ncomparative divine silence followed the planting of the vineyard.\nHaving given us our charge, God, as it were, steps aside to leave us\nroom to work as we will, and so to display what we are made of. He\nis absent in so far as conspicuous oversight and retribution are\nconcerned. He is present to help, love, and bless. The faithful\nhusbandman has Him always near, a joy and a strength, else no fruit\nwould grow; but the sin and misery of the unfaithful are that they\nthink of Him as far off.\n\nII. Then comes the habitual ill-treatment of the messengers. These\nare, of course, the prophets, whose office was not only to foretell,\nbut to plead for obedience and trust, the fruits sought by God. The\nwhole history of the nation is summed up in this dark picture.\nGeneration after generation of princes, priests, and people had done\nthe same thing. There is no more remarkable historical fact than\nthat of the uniform hostility of the Jews to the prophets. That a\nnation of such a sort as always to hate and generally to murder them\nshould have had them in long succession, throughout its history, is\nsurely inexplicable on any naturalistic hypothesis. Such men were\nnot the natural product of the race, nor of its circumstances, as\ntheir fate shows. How did they spring up? No 'philosophy of Jewish\nhistory' explains the anomaly except the one stated here,--'He sent\nHis servants.' We are told nowadays that the Jews had a natural\ngenius for religion, just as the Greeks for art and thought, and the\nRomans for law and order, and that that explains the origin of the\nprophets. Does it explain their treatment?\n\nThe hostility of the husbandmen grows with indulgence. From beating\nthey go on to killing, and stoning is a specially savage form of\nkilling. The opposition which began, as the former parable tells us,\nwith polite hypocrisy and lip obedience, changed, under the stimulus\nof prophetic appeals, to honest refusal, and from that to violence\nwhich did not hesitate to slay. The more God pleads with men, the\nmore self-conscious and bitter becomes their hatred; and the more\nbitter their hatred, the more does He plead, sending other\nmessengers, more perhaps in number, or possibly of more weight, with\nlarger commission and clearer light. Thus both the antagonistic\nforces grow, and the worse men become, the louder and more\nbeseeching is the call of God to them. That is always true; and it\nis also ever true that he who begins with 'I go, sir, and goes not,\nis in a fair way to end with stoning the prophets.\n\nChrist treats the whole long series of violent rejections as the\nacts of the same set of husbandmen. The class or nation was one, as\na stream is one, though all its particles are different; and the\nPharisees and scribes, who stood with frowning hatred before Him as\nHe spoke, were the living embodiment of the spirit which had\nanimated all the past. In so far as they inherited their taint, and\nrepeated their conduct, the guilt of all the former generations was\nlaid at their door. They declared themselves their predecessors'\nheirs; and as they reproduced their actions, they would have to bear\nthe accumulated weight of the consequences.\n\nIII. Verses 37-39 tell of the mission of the Son and of its fatal\nissue. Three points are prominent in them. The first is the unique\nposition which Christ here claims, with unwonted openness and\ndecisiveness, as apart from and far above all the prophets. They\nconstitute one order, but He stands alone, sustaining a closer\nrelation to God. They were faithful 'as servants,' but He 'as a\nSon,' or, as Mark has it, 'the only and beloved Son.' The listeners\nunderstood Him well enough. The assertion, which seemed audacious\nblasphemy to them, fitted in with all His acts in that last week,\nwhich was not only the crisis of His life, but of the nation's fate.\nRulers and people must decide whether they will own or reject their\nKing, and they must do it with their eyes open. Jesus claimed to\nfill a unique position. Was He right or wrong in His claim? If He\nwas wrong, what becomes of His wisdom, His meekness, His religion?\nIs a religious teacher, who made the mistake of thinking that He was\nthe Son of God in a sense in which no other man is so, worthy of\nadmiration? If He was right, what becomes of a Christianity which\nsees in Him only the foremost of the prophets?\n\nThe next point marked is the owner's vain hope, in sending his Son. He\nthought that He would be welcomed, and He was disappointed. It was His\nlast attempt. Christ knew Himself to be God's last appeal, as He is to\nall men, as well as to that generation. He is the last arrow in God's\nquiver. When it has shot that bolt, the resources even of divine love\nare exhausted, and no more can be done for the vineyard than He has\ndone for it. We need not wonder at unfulfilled hopes being here\nascribed to God. The startling thought only puts into language the\ngreat mystery which besets all His pleadings with men, which are\ncarried on, though they often fail, and which must, therefore, in view\nof His foreknowledge, be regarded as carried on with the knowledge that\nthey will fail. That is the long-suffering patience of God. The\ndifficulty is common to the words of the parable and to the facts of\nGod's unwearied pleading with impenitent men. Its surface is a\ndifficulty, its heart is an abyss of all-hoping charity.\n\nThe last point is the vain calculation of the husbandmen. Christ\nputs hidden motives into plain words, and reveals to these rulers\nwhat they scarcely knew of their own hearts. Did they, in their\nsecret conclaves, look each other in the face, and confess that He\nwas the Heir? Did He not Himself ground His prayer for their pardon\non their ignorance? But their ignorance was not entire, else they\nhad had no sin; neither was their knowledge complete, else they had\nhad no pardon. Beneath many an obstinate denial of Him lies a secret\nconfession, or misgiving, which more truly speaks the man than does\nthe loud negation. And such strange contradictions are men, that the\nsecret conviction is often the very thing which gives bitterness and\neagerness to the hostility. So it was with some of those whose\nhidden suspicions are here set in the light. How was the rulers' or\nthe people's wish to 'seize on His inheritance' their motive for\nkilling Jesus? Their great sin was their desire to have their\nnational prerogatives, and yet to give no true obedience. The ruling\nclass clung to their privileges and forgot their responsibilities,\nwhile the people were proud of their standing as Jews, and careless\nof God's service. Neither wished to be reminded of their debt to the\nLord of the vineyard, and their hostility to Jesus was mainly\nbecause He would call on them for fruits. If they could get this\nunwelcome and persistent voice silenced, they could go on in the\ncomfortable old fashion of lip-service and real selfishness. It is\nan account, in vividly parabolic language, not only of _their_\nhostility, but of that of many men who are against Him. They wish to\npossess life and its good, without being for ever pestered with\nreminders of the terms on which they hold it, and of God's desire\nfor their love and obedience. They have a secret feeling that Christ\nhas the right to ask for their hearts, and so they often turn from\nHim angrily, and sometimes hate Him.\n\nWith what sad calmness does Jesus tell the fate of the son, so\ncertain that it is already as good as done! It _was_ done in\ntheir counsels, and yet He does not cease to plead, if perchance\nsome hearts may be touched and withdraw themselves from the\nconfederacy of murder.\n\nIV. We have next the self-condemnation from unwilling lips. Our Lord\nturns to the rulers with startling and dramatic suddenness, which\nmay have thrown them off their guard, so that their answer leaped\nout before they had time to think whom it hit. His solemn\nearnestness laid a spell on them, which drew their own condemnation\nfrom them, though they had penetrated the thin veil of the parable,\nand knew full well who the husbandmen were. Nor could they refuse to\nanswer a question about legal punishments for dishonesty, which was\nput to them, the fountains of law, without incurring a second time\nthe humiliation just inflicted when He had forced them to\nacknowledge that they, the fountains of knowledge, did not know\nwhere John came from. So from all these motives, and perhaps from a\nmingling of audacity, which would brazen it out and pretend not to\nsee the bearing of the question, they answer. Like Caiaphas in his\ncounsel, and Pilate with his writing on the Cross, and many another,\nthey spoke deeper things than they knew, and confessed beforehand\nhow just the judgments were, which followed the very lines marked\nout by their own words.\n\nV. Then come the solemn application and naked truth of the parable.\nWe have no need to dwell on the cycle of prophecies concerning the\ncorner-stone, nor on the original application of the psalm. We must\nbe content with remarking that our Lord, in this last portion of His\naddress, throws away even the thin veil of parable, and speaks the\nsternest truth in the nakedest words. He puts His own claim in the\nplainest fashion, as the corner-stone on which the true kingdom of\nGod was to be built. He brands the men who stood before Him as\nincompetent builders, who did not know the stone needed for their\nedifice when they saw it. He declares, with triumphant confidence,\nthe futility of opposition to Himself--even though it kill Him. He\nis sure that God will build on Him, and that His place in the\nbuilding, which shall rise through the ages, will be, to even\ncareless eyes, the crown of the manifest wonders of God's hand.\nStrange words from a Man who knew that in three days He would be\ncrucified! Stranger still that they have come true! He is the\nfoundation of the best part of the best men; the basis of thought,\nthe motive for action, the pattern of life, the ground of hope, for\ncountless individuals; and on Him stands firm the society of His\nChurch, and is hung all the glory of His Father's house.\n\nChrist confirms the sentence just spoken by the rulers on\nthemselves, but with the inversion of its clauses. All disguise is\nat an end. The fatal 'you' is pronounced. The husbandmen's\ncalculation had been that killing the heir would make them lords of\nthe vineyard; the grim fact was that they cast themselves out when\nthey cast him out. He is the heir. If we desire the inheritance, we\nmust get it through Him, and not kill or reject, but trust and obey\nHim. The sentence declares the two truths, that possession of the\nvineyard depends on honouring the Son, and on bringing forth the\nfruits. The kingdom has been taken from the churches of Asia Minor,\nAfrica, and Syria, because they bore no fruit. It is not held by us\non other conditions. Who can venture to speak of the awful doom set\nforth in the last words here? It has two stages: one a lesser\nmisery, which is the lot of him who stumbles against the stone,\nwhile it lies passive to be built on; one more dreadful, when it has\nacquired motion and comes down with irresistible impetus. To stumble\nat Christ, or to refuse His grace, and not to base our lives and\nhopes on Him is maiming and damage, in many ways, here and now. But\nsuppose the stone endowed with motion, what can stand against it?\nAnd suppose that the Christ, who is now offered for the rock on\nwhich we may pile our hopes and never be confounded, comes to judge,\nwill He not crush the mightiest opponent as the dust of the summer\nthreshing-floor?\n\n\n\n\nTHE STONE OF STUMBLING\n\n\n    'Whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken:\n    but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to\n    powder.'--MATT. xxi. 44.\n\nAs Christ's ministry drew to its close, its severity and its\ngentleness both increased; its severity to the class to whom it was\nalways severe, and its gentleness to the class from whom it never\nturned away. Side by side, through all His manifestation of Himself,\nthere were the two aspects: 'He showed Himself _froward_' (if I\nmay quote the word) to the self-righteous and the Pharisee; and He\nbent with more than a woman's tenderness of yearning love over the\ndarkness and sinfulness, which in its great darkness dimly knew\nitself blind, and in its sinfulness stretched out a lame hand of\nfaith, and groped after a divine deliverer. Here, in my text, there\nare only words of severity and awful foreboding. Christ has been\ntelling those Pharisees and priests that the kingdom is to be taken\nfrom them, and given to a nation that brings forth the fruits\nthereof. He interprets for them an Old Testament figure, often\nrecurring, which we read in the 118th Psalm (and I may just say, in\npassing, that we get here His interpretation of that psalm, and the\nvindication of our application of it, and other similar ones, to Him\nand His office); 'The stone which the builders rejected,' said He,\n'is become the head of the corner'; and then, falling back on other\nOld Testament uses of the same figure, He weaves into one the whole\nof them--that in Isaiah about the 'sure foundation,' and that in\nDaniel about 'the stone cut out without hands, which became a great\nmountain,' crushing down all opposition,--and centres them all in\nHimself; as fulfilled in Himself, in His person and His work.\n\nThe two clauses of my text figuratively point to two different\nclasses of operation on the rejecters of the Gospel. What are these\ntwo classes? 'Whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken:\nbut on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder.' In\nthe one case, the stone is represented as passive, lying quiet; in\nthe other, it has acquired motion. In the one case, the man stumbles\nand hurts himself; a remediable injury, a self-inflicted injury, a\nnatural injury, without the active operation of Christ to produce it\nat all; in the other case the injury is worse than remediable, it is\nutter, absolute, grinding destruction, and it comes from the active\noperation of the 'stone of stumbling.' That is to say, the one class\nrepresents the present hurts and harms which, by the natural\noperation of things, without the action of Christ judicially at all,\nevery man receives in the very act of rejecting the Gospel; and the\nother represents the ultimate issue of that rejection, which\nrejection is darkened into opposition and fixed hostility, when the\nstone that was laid 'for a foundation' has got wings (if I may so\nsay), and comes down in judgment, crushing and destroying the\nantagonist utterly. 'Whosoever falls on this stone is broken,' here\nand now; and 'on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to\npowder,' hereafter and yonder.\n\nTaking, then, into account the weaving together in this passage of\nthe three figures from the Old Testament to which I have already\nreferred,--the rejected stone, the foundation, and the mountain-stone\nof Daniel, and looking in the light of these, at the twofold issues,\none present and one future, which the text distinctly brings before\nus,--we have just three points to which I ask your attention now.\nFirst, Every man has some kind of contact with Christ. Secondly,\nRejection of Him, here and now, is harm and maiming. And, lastly,\nRejection of Him, hereafter and yonder, is hopeless, endless, utter\ndestruction.\n\nI. In the first place, every man has some kind of connection with\nChrist.\n\nI am not going to enter at all now upon any question about the\ncondition of the 'dark places of the earth' where the Gospel has not\ncome as a well-known preached message; we have nothing to do with\nthat; the principles on which _they_ are judged is not the\nquestion before us now. I am speaking exclusively about persons who\nhave heard the word of salvation, and are dwelling in the midst of\nwhat we call a Christian land. Christ is offered to each of us, in\ngood faith on God's part, as a means of salvation, a foundation on\nwhich we may build. A man is free to accept or to reject that offer.\nIf he reject it, he has not thereby cut himself off from all contact\nand connection with that rejected Saviour, but he still sustains a\nrelation to Him; and the message that he has refused to believe, is\nexercising an influence upon his character and his destiny.\n\nChrist comes, I say, offered to us all in good faith on the part of\nGod, as a foundation upon which we may build. And then comes in that\nstrange mystery, that a man, consciously free, turns away from the\noffered mercy, and makes Him that was intended to be the basis of\nhis life, the foundation of his hope, the rock on which, steadfast\nand serene, he should build up a temple-home for his soul to dwell\nin,--makes Him a stumbling-stone against which, by rejection and\nunbelief, he breaks himself!\n\nMy friend, will you let me lay this one thing upon your heart,--you\ncannot hinder the Gospel from influencing you somehow. Taking it in\nits lowest aspects, it is one of the forces of modern society, an\nelement in our present civilisation. It is everywhere, it obtrudes\nitself on you at every turn, the air is saturated with its\ninfluence. To be unaffected by such an all-pervading phenomenon is\nimpossible. To no individual member of the great whole of a nation\nis it given to isolate himself utterly from the community. Whether\nhe oppose or whether he acquiesce in current opinions, to denude\nhimself of the possessions which belong in common to his age and\nstate of society is in either case impracticable. 'That which cometh\ninto your mind,' said one of the prophets to the Jews who were\ntrying to cut themselves loose from their national faith and their\nancestral prerogatives, 'That which cometh into your mind shall not\nbe at all, that ye say, We will be as the heathen, as the families\nof the countries to serve wood and stone.' Vain dream! You can no\nmore say, I will pass the Gospel by, and it shall be nothing to me,\nI will simply let it alone, than you can say, I will shut myself up\nfrom other influences proper to my time and nation. You cannot go\nback to the old naked barbarism, and you cannot reduce the influence\nof Christianity, even considered merely as one of the characteristics\nof the times, to zero. You may fancy you are letting it alone, but\nit does not let you alone; it is here, and you cannot shut yourself\noff from it.\n\nBut it is not merely as a subtle and diffused influence that the\nGospel exercises a permanent effect upon us. It is presented to each\nof us here individually, in the definite form of an actual offer of\nsalvation for each, and of an actual demand of trust from each. The\nwords pass into our souls, and thenceforward we can never be the\nsame as if they had not been there. The smallest ray of light\nfalling on a sensitive plate produces a chemical change that can\nnever be undone again, and the light of Christ's love, once brought\nto the knowledge and presented for the acceptance of a soul, stamps\non it an ineffaceable sign of its having been there. The Gospel once\nheard, is always the Gospel which has been heard. Nothing can alter\nthat. Once heard, it is henceforward a perpetual element in the\nwhole condition, character, and destiny of the hearer.\n\nChrist does something to every one of us. His Gospel will tell upon\nyou, it _is_ telling upon you. If you disbelieve it, you are\nnot the same as if you had never heard it. Never is the box of\nointment opened without some savour from it abiding in every nostril\nto which its odour is wafted. Only the alternative, the awful\n'either, or,' is open for each--the 'savour of life unto life,\n_or_ the savour of death unto death.' To come back to the\nillustration of the text, Christ is something, and does something to\nevery one of us. He is either the rock on which I build, poor, weak,\nsinful creature as I am, getting security, and sanctity, and\nstrength from Him, I being a living stone' built upon 'the living\nstone,' and partaking of the vitality of the foundation; or else He\nis the other thing, 'a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence to\nthem which stumble at the word.' Christ stands for ever in some kind\nof relation to, and exercises for ever some kind of influence on,\nevery man who has heard the Gospel.\n\nII. The immediate issue of rejection of Him is loss and maiming.\n\n'Whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken.' Just think for\na moment, by way of illustrating this principle, first of all, of\nthe _positive_ harm which you do to yourself in the act of\nturning away from the mercy offered you in Christ; and then think\nfor a moment of the _negative_ loss which you sustain by the\nsame act.\n\nNote the _positive_ harm. Am I uncharitable when I say that no\nman ever yet _passively neglected_ the message of love in God's\nSon; but that always _this_ is the rude outline of the experience\nof people who know what it is to have a Saviour offered to them, and\nknow what it is to put Him away,--that there is a feeble and transitory\nmovement of heart and will; that Conscience says, 'Thou oughtest'; that\nWill says, 'I would'; that the heart is touched by some sense of that\ngreat and gentle vision of light and love which passes before the eye;\nthat the man, as it were, like some fever-ridden patient, lifts himself\nup for an instant from the bed on which he is lying, and puts out a\nhand, and then falls back again, the vacillating, fevered, paralysed\nwill recoiling from the resolution, and the conscience having power to\nsay, 'Thou oughtest,' but no power to enforce the execution of its\ndecrees, and the heart turning away from the salvation that it would\nhave found in the love of love, to the loss that it finds in the love\nof self and earth? Or in other words, is it not true that every man\nwho rejects Christ does in simple verity _reject_ Him, and not\nmerely neglect Him; that there is always an effort, that there is a\nstruggle, feeble, perhaps, but real, which ends in the turning away? It\nis not that you stand there, and simply let Him go past. That were bad\nenough; but the fact is worse than that. It is that you turn your back\nupon Him. It is not that His hand is laid on yours, and yours remains\ndead and cold, and does not open to clasp it; but it is that His hand\nbeing laid on yours, you clench yours the tighter, and _will not_\nhave it. And so every man (I believe) who rejects Christ does these\nthings thereby--wounds his own conscience, hardens his own heart,\nmakes himself a worse man, just because he has had a glimpse, and\nhas willingly, and almost consciously, 'loved darkness rather than\nlight.' Oh, brethren, the message of love can never come into a\nhuman soul, and pass away from it unreceived, without leaving that\nspirit worse, with all its lowest characteristics strengthened, and\nall its best ones depressed, by the fact of rejection. I have nothing\nto do now with pursuing that process to its end; but the natural\nresult--if there were no future Judgment at all, if there were no\nmovement ever given to the stone that you ought to build on--the\nnatural result of the simple rejection of the Gospel is that, bit by\nbit, all the lingering remains of nobleness that hover about the man,\nlike scent about a broken vase, pass away; and that, step by step,\nthrough the simple process of saying, 'I will not have Christ to rule\nover me,' the whole being degenerates, until manhood becomes\ndevil-hood, and the soul is lost by its own want of faith. Unbelief\nis its own judgment; unbelief is its own condemnation; unbelief, as\nsin, is punished, like all other sins, by the perpetuation of deeper\nand darker forms of itself. Every time that you stifle a conviction,\nfight down a conviction, or drive away a conviction; and every time\nthat you feebly move towards the decision, 'I _will_ trust Him, and\nlove Him, and be His,' yet fail to realise it, you have harmed your\nsoul, you have made yourself a worse man, you have lowered the tone\nof your conscience, you have enfeebled your will, you have made your\nheart harder against love, you have drawn another horny scale over\nthe eye, that will prevent you from seeing the light that is yonder;\nyou have, as much as in you is, withdrawn from God, and approximated\nto the other pole of the universe (if I may say that), to the dark\nand deadly antagonist of mercy, and goodness, and truth, and grace.\n'Whosoever falls on this stone,' by the natural result of his\nunbelief, 'shall be broken' and maimed, and shall mar his own nature.\n\nI need not dwell on the _negative_ evil results of unbelief;\nthe loss of that which is the only guide for a man, the taking away,\nor rather the failing to possess, that great love above us, that\ndivine Spirit in us, by which only we are ever made what we ought to\nbe. This only I would leave with you, in this part of my subject,\nWhoever is not in Christ is maimed. Only he that is 'a man in Christ'\nhas come 'to the measure of the stature of a perfect man.' There,\nand there alone, do we get the power which will make us full-grown.\nThere alone is the soul planted in that good soil in which, growing,\nit becomes as a rounded, perfect tree, with leaves and fruits in\ntheir season. All other men are half-men, quarter-men, fragments of\nmen, parts of humanity exaggerated and contorted and distorted from\nthe reconciling whole which the Christian ought to be, and in\nproportion to his Christianity is on the road to be, and one day will\nassuredly and actually be, a 'complete and entire man, wanting\nnothing'; nothing maimed, nothing broken, the realisation of the\nideal of humanity, the renewed copy 'of the second Adam, the Lord\nfrom heaven.'\n\nThere is another consideration closely connected with this second\npart of my subject, that I just mention and pass on. Not only by the\nact of rejection of Christ do we harm and maim ourselves, but also\nall attempts at opposition--formal opposition--to the Gospel as a\nsystem, stand self-convicted and self-condemned to speedy decay.\nWhat a commentary upon that word, 'Whosoever falls on this stone\nshall be broken,' is the whole history of the heresies of the Church\nand the assaults of unbelief! Man after man, rich in gifts, endowed\noften with far larger and nobler faculties than the people who\noppose him, with indomitable perseverance, a martyr to his error,\nsets himself up against the truth that is sphered in Jesus Christ;\nand the great divine message simply goes on its way, and all the\nbabblement and noise are like so many bats flying against a light,\nor like the sea-birds that come sweeping up in the tempest and the\nnight, to the hospitable Pharos that is upon the rock, and smite\nthemselves dead against it. Sceptics well known in their generation,\nwho made people's hearts tremble for the ark of God, what has become\nof them? Their books lie dusty and undisturbed on the top shelf of\nlibraries; whilst there the Bible stands, with all the scribblings\nwiped off the page, as though they had never been! Opponents fire\ntheir small shot against the great Rock of Ages, and the little\npellets fall flattened, and only scale off a bit of the moss that\nhas gathered there! My brother, let the history of the past teach\nyou and me, with other deeper thoughts, a very calm and triumphant\nconfidence about all that opponents say nowadays; for all the modern\nopposition to this Gospel will go as all the past has done, and the\nnewest systems which cut and carve at Christianity, will go to the\ntomb where all the rest have gone; and dead old infidelities will\nrise up from their thrones, and say to the bran-new ones of this\ngeneration, when their day is worked out, 'Are ye also become weak\nas we? art thou also become like one of us?' 'Whosoever shall fall\non this stone shall be broken': personally, he will be harmed; and\nhis opinions, and his books, and his talk, and all his\nargumentation, will come to nothing, like the waves that break into\nimpotent foam against the rocky cliffs.\n\nIII. Last of all, the issue, the ultimate issue, of unbelief is\nirremediable destruction when Christ begins to move.\n\nThe former clause has spoken about the harm that naturally follows\nunbelief whilst the Gospel is being preached; the latter clause speaks\nabout the active agency of Christ when the end shall have come, and\nthe preaching of the Gospel shall have merged into the act of judgment.\nI do not mean to dwell, brethren, upon that thought; it seems to me\nfar too awful a one to be handled by my hands, at any rate. Let us\nleave it in the vagueness and dreadfulness of the words of Him who\nnever spoke exaggerated words, and who, when He said, 'It shall grind\nhim to powder,' meant (as it seems to me) nothing less than a\ndestruction which, contrasted with the former remediable wounding and\nbreaking, was a destruction utter, and hopeless, and everlasting, and\nwithout remedy. Ground--ground to powder! Any life left in that? any\ngathering up of that, and making a man of it again? All the humanity\nbattered out of it, and the life clean gone from it! Does not that\nsound very much like 'everlasting destruction from the presence of God\nand from the glory of His power'? Christ, silent now, will begin to\nspeak; passive now, will begin to act. The stone comes down, and the\nfall of it will be awful. I remember, away up in a lonely Highland\nvalley, where beneath a tall black cliff, all weather-worn, and cracked,\nand seamed, there lies at the foot, resting on the greensward that\ncreeps round its base, a huge rock, that has fallen from the face of\nthe precipice. A shepherd was passing beneath it; and suddenly, when\nthe finger of God's will touched it, and rent it from its ancient bed\nin the everlasting rock, it came down, leaping and bounding from pinnacle\nto pinnacle--and it fell; and the man that was beneath it is there now!\n'Ground to powder.' Ah, my brethren, that is not _my_ illustration--that\nis Christ's. Therefore I say to you, since all that stand against Him\nshall become 'as the chaff of the summer threshing-floor,' and be swept\nutterly away, make Him the foundation on which you build; and when the\nstorm sweeps away every 'refuge of lies,' you will be safe and serene,\nbuilded upon the Rock of Ages.\n\n\n\n\nTWO WAYS OF DESPISING GOD'S FEAST\n\n\n    'And Jesus answered and spake unto them again by\n    parables, and said, 2. The kingdom of heaven is like\n    unto a certain king, which made a marriage for his son,\n    3. And sent forth his servants to call them that were\n    bidden to the wedding: and they would not come.\n    4. Again, he sent forth other servants, saying, Tell\n    them which are bidden, Behold, I have prepared my\n    dinner: my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all\n    things are ready: come unto the marriage. 6. But they\n    made light of it, and went their ways, one to his farm,\n    another to his merchandise; 6. 'And the remnant took\n    his  servants, and entreated them spitefully, and slew\n    them. 7. But when the king heard thereof, he was wroth:\n    and he sent forth his armies, and destroyed those\n    murderers, and burned up their city. & Then saith he to\n    his servants, The wedding is ready, but they which were\n    bidden were not worthy. 9. Go ye therefore into the\n    highways, and as many as ye shall find, bid to the\n    marriage.  10. So those servants went out into the\n    highways, and gathered together all as many as they\n    found, both bad and good: and the wedding was furnished\n    with guests. 11. And when the king came in to see the\n    guests, he saw there a man which had not on a\n    wedding-garment: 12. And he saith unto him, Friend, how\n    earnest thou in hither not having a wedding-garment?\n    And he was speechless. 13. Then said the king to the\n    servants, Bind him hand and foot, and take him away,\n    and cast him into outer darkness; there shall be\n    weeping and gnashing of teeth. 14. For many are called,\n    but few are chosen.'--MATT. xxii. 1-14.\n\nThis parable, and the preceding one of the vine-dressers, make a\npair. They are closely connected in time, as well as subject. 'Jesus\nanswered.' What? Obviously, the unspoken murderous hate, restrained\nby fear, which had been raised in the rulers' minds, and flashed in\ntheir eyes, and moved in their gestures. Christ answers it by\nrepeating His blow; for the present parable is, in outline,\nidentical with the preceding, though differing in colouring, and\ncarrying its thoughts farther. That stopped with the transference of\nthe kingdom to the Gentiles; this passes on to speak also of the\ndevelopment among the Gentiles, and ends with the law 'many called,\nfew chosen,' which is exemplified in Jew and Gentile. There are,\nthen, two parts in it: verses 1-9 covering the same ground as the\nformer; verses 10-14 adding new matter.\n\nI. The judgment on those who refuse the offered joys of the kingdom.\nIn the previous parable, the kingdom was presented on the side of\nduty and service. The call was to render obedience. The vineyard was\na sphere for toil. The owner had given it indeed, but, having given,\nhe required. That is only half the truth, and the least joyful half.\nSo this parable dismisses all ideas of work, duty, service,\nrequirement, and instead gives the emblem of a marriage feast as the\npicture of the kingdom. It therein unites two familiar prophetic\nimages for the Messianic times--those of a festival and of a\nmarriage. As Luther says, 'He calls it a marriage feast, not a time\nof toil or a time of sorrow, but a time of holiday and a time of\njoy; in which we make ourselves fine, sing, play, dance, eat, drink,\nare glad, and have a good time; else it would not be a wedding\nfeast, if people were to be working, mourning, or crying. Therefore,\nChrist calls His Christianity and gospel by the name of the highest\njoy on earth; namely, by the name of a marriage feast.' How pathetic\nthis designation of His kingdom is on Christ's lips, when we\nremember how near His bitter agony He stood, and that He tasted its\nbitterness already! It is not the whole truth any more than the\nvineyard emblem is. Both must be united in our idea of the kingdom,\nas both may be in experience. It is possible to be at once toiling\namong the vines in the hot sunshine, and feasting at the table. The\nChristian life is not all grinding at heavy tasks, nor all enjoyment\nof spiritual refreshment; but our work may be so done as to be our\n'meat'--as it was His--and our glad repose may be unbroken even in\nthe midst of toil. We are, at one and the same time, labourers in\nthe king's vineyard, and guests at the king's table; and the same\nduality will, in some unknown fashion, continue in the perfect\nkingdom, where there will be both work and feasting, and all the\nlife shall be both in one.\n\nThe second point to be noticed is the invitations of the king. There\nhad been an invitation before the point at which the parable begins,\nfor the servants are sent to summon those who had already been\n'called.' That calling, which lies beyond the horizon of our\nparable, is the whole series of agencies in Old Testament times. So\nthis parable begins almost where the former leaves off. They only\nslightly overlap. The first servants here are Christ Himself, and\nHis followers in their ministry during His life; and the second set\nare the apostles and preachers of the gospel during the period\nbetween the completion of the preparation of the feast (that is, the\ndeath of Christ) and the destruction of Jerusalem. The characteristic\ndifference of their message from that of the servants in the former\nparable, embodies the whole difference between the preaching of the\nprophets, as messengers demanding the fruit of righteousness, and the\nglad tidings of a gospel of free grace which does not demand, but\noffers, and does not say 'obey' until it has said 'eat, and be glad.'\nThe reiterated invitations not only correspond to the actual facts,\nbut, like the facts, set the miracle of God's patience in a still\nbrighter light than the former story did; for while it is wonderful\nthat the lord of the vineyard should stoop to ask so often for fruit,\nit is far more wonderful that the founder of the feast, who is king\ntoo, should stoop to offer over and over again the refused abundance\nof his table.\n\nMark, further, the refusal of the invitations: 'They would not (or\n\"did not wish to\") come.' That is Christ's gentle way of describing\nthe unbelief of His generation. It is the second set of refusers who\nare painted in darker colours. We are accustomed to think that the\nsin of His contemporaries was great beyond parallel, but he seems\nhere to hint that the sin of those who reject Him after the Cross\nand the Resurrection, is blacker than theirs. At any rate, it\nclearly is so. But note that the parable speaks as if the refusers\nwere the same persons throughout, thus taking the same point of view\nas the former one did, and regarding the generations of the Jews as\none whole. There is a real unity, though the individuals be\ndifferent, if the spirit actuating successive generations be the\nsame.\n\nNote the two classes of rejecters. The first simply pay no\nattention, because their heads are full of business. They do not\neven speak more or less lame excuses, as the refusers in Luke's\nsimilar parable had the decency to do. The king's messenger\naddresses a group, who pause on their road for a moment, to listen\nlistlessly to what he has to say, and, when he has done, disperse\nwithout a word, each man going on his road, as if nothing had\nhappened. The ground of their indifference lies in their absorption\nwith this world's good, and their belief that it is best. 'His own\nfarm,' as the original puts it emphatically, holds one man by the\nsolid delight of possessing acres that he can walk over and till;\nhis merchandise draws another, by the excitement of speculation and\nthe lust of acquiring. It is not only the hurry and fever of a great\ncommercial city, but the quiet and leisure of country life, which\nshut out taste for God's feast. Strange preference of toil and risk\nof loss to abundance, repose, and joy! Savages barter gold for glass\nbeads. We choose lives of weary work and hunting after uncertain\nriches, rather than listen to His call, despising the open-handed\nhousekeeping of our Father's house, and trying to fill our hunger\nwith the swine's husks. The suicidal madness of refusing the kingdom\nis set in a vivid light in these quiet words.\n\nBut stranger still is the conduct of the rest. Why should they kill\nmen whose only fault was bringing them a hospitable invitation? The\nincongruity of the representation has given offence to some\ninterpreters, who are not slow to point out how Christ could have\nimproved His parable. But the reality is more incongruous still, and\nthe unmotived outburst of wrath against the innocent bearers of a\nkindly invitation is only too true to life. Mark the distinction\ndrawn by our Lord between the bulk of the people who simply\nneglected, and the few who violently opposed. He does not charge the\nguilt on all. The murderers of Him and of His first followers were\nnot the mass of the nation, who, left to themselves, would not have\nso acted, but the few who stirred up the many. But, though He does\nnot lay the guilt at the doors of all, yet the punishment falls on\nall, and, when the city is burned, the houses of the negligent and\nof the slayers are equally consumed; for simple refusal of the\nmessage and slaying the messengers were but the positive and\nsuperlative degrees of the same crime--rebellion against the king,\nwhose invitation was a command.\n\nThe fatal issue is presented, as in the former parable, in two\nparts: the destruction of the rebels, and the passing over of the\nkingdom to others. But the differences are noteworthy. Here we read\nthat 'the king was wroth.' Insult to a king is worse than dishonesty\nto a landlord. The refusal of God's proffered grace is even more\ncertain to awake that awful reality, the wrath of God, than the\nfailure to render the fruits of the good possessed. Love repelled\nand thrown back on itself cannot but become wrath. That refusal,\nwhich is rebellion, is fittingly described as punished by force of\narms and the burning of the city. We can scarcely help seeing that\nour Lord here, in a very striking and unusual way, mingles prose\nprediction with parabolic imagery. Some commentators object to this,\nand take the armies and the burning to be only part of the imagery,\nbut it is difficult to believe that. Note the forcible pronouns,\n'His armies,' and 'their city.' The terrible Roman legions were His\nsoldiers for the time being, the axe which He laid to the root of\nthe tree. The city had ceased to be His, just as the temple ceased\nto be 'My house,' and became, by their sin, 'your house.' The legend\ntold that, before their destruction, a mighty voice was heard\nsaying, 'Let us depart,' and, with the sound of rushing wings, His\npresence left sanctuary and city. When He was no longer 'the glory\nin the midst,' He was no longer 'a wall of fire round about,' and\nthe Roman torches worked their will on the city which was no longer\n'the city of our God.'\n\nThe command to gather in others to fill the vacant places follows on\nthe destruction of the city. This may seem to be opposed to the\nfacts of the transference of the kingdom to the Gentiles, which\ncertainly was begun long before Jerusalem fell. But its fall was the\nfinal and complete severance of Christianity from Judaism, and not\ntill then had the messengers to give up the summons to Israel as\nhopeless. Perhaps Paul had this parable floating in his memory when\nhe said to the howling blasphemers at Antioch in Pisidia, 'Seeing ye\n... judge yourselves unworthy of eternal life, lo, we turn to the\nGentiles. For so hath the Lord commanded us.' 'They which were\nbidden were not worthy,' and their unworthiness consisted not in any\nother moral demerit, but solely in this, that they had refused the\nproffered blessings. That is the only thing which makes any of us\nunworthy. And that will make the best of us unworthy.\n\nII. Verses 10-14 carry us beyond the preceding parable, and show us\nthe judgment on the unworthy accepters of the invitation. There are\ntwo ways of sinning against God's merciful gift: the one is refusing\nto accept it; the other is taking it in outward seeming, but\ncontinuing in sin. The former was the sin of the Jews; the latter is\nthe sin of nominal Christians. We may briefly note the points of\nthis appendix to the parable. The first is the indiscriminate\ninvitation, which is more emphatically marked as being so, by the\nmention of the 'bad' before the good among the guests. God's offer\nis for all, and, in a very real sense, is specially sent to the\nworst, just as the doctor goes first to the most severely wounded.\nSo the motley crew, without the least attempt at discrimination, are\nseated at the table. If the Church understands its business, it will\nhave nothing to do in its message with distinctions of character any\nmore than of class, but, if it makes any difference, will give the\noutcast and disreputable the first place in its efforts. Is that\nwhat it does?\n\nThe next point is the king's inspection. The word rendered 'behold'\nimplies a fixed and minute observation. When does that scrutiny take\nplace? Obviously, from the sequel, the final judgment is referred\nto, and it is remarkable that here there is no mention of the king's\nson as the judge. No parable can shadow forth all truth, and though\nthe Father 'has committed all judgment to the Son,' the Son's\njudgment is the Father's, and the exigencies of the parable required\nthat the son as bridegroom should not be brought into view as judge.\nNote that there is only one guest without the dress needed. That may\nbe an instance of the lenity of Christ's charity, which hopeth all\nthings; or it may rather be intended to suggest the keenness of the\nking's glance, which, in all the crowded tables, picks out the one\nragged losel who had found his way there--so individual is his\nknowledge, so impossible for us to hide in the crowd.\n\nMark that the feast has not begun, though the guests are seated. The\njudgment stands at the threshold of the heavenly kingdom. The king\nspeaks with a certain coldness, very unlike the welcome fit for a\nguest; and his question is one of astonishment at the rude boldness\nof the man who came there, knowing that he had not the proper dress.\n(That knowledge is implied in the form of the sentence in the\nGreek.) What, then, is the wedding garment? It can be nothing else\nthan righteousness, moral purity, which fits for sitting at His\ntable in His kingdom. And the man who has it not, is the nominal\nChristian, who says that he has accepted God's invitation, and lives\nin sin, not putting off 'the old man with his deeds,' nor putting on\n'the new man, which is created in righteousness.' How that garment\nwas to be obtained is no part of this parable. We know that it is\nonly to be received by faith in Jesus Christ, and that if we are to\npass the scrutiny of the king, it must be as 'not having our own\nrighteousness,' but His made ours by faith which makes us righteous,\nand then by all holy effort, and toil in His strength, we must\nclothe our souls in the dress which befits the banqueting hall; for\nonly they who are washed and clothed in fine linen, clean and white,\nshall sit there. But Christ's purpose here was not to explain how\nthe robe was to be procured, but to insist that it must be worn.\n\n'He was speechless,'--or, as the word means, 'muzzled.' The man is\nself-condemned, and, having nothing to say in extenuation, the\nsolemn promise is pronounced of ejection from the lighted hall, with\nlimbs bound so that he cannot struggle, and consignment to the\nblackness outside, of which our Lord adds, in words not put into the\nking's mouth, but which we have heard from Him before, 'There shall\nbe the [well-known and terrible] weeping and gnashing of teeth--awful\nthough figurative expressions for despair and passion.\n\nBoth parts of the parable come under one law, and exemplify one\nprinciple of the kingdom, that its invitations extend more widely\nthan the real possession of its gifts. The unbelieving Jew, in one\ndirection, and the unrighteous Christian in another, are instances\nof this.\n\nThis is not the place to discuss that wide and well-worn question of\nthe ground of God's choice. That does not enter into the scope of\nthe parable. For it, the choice is proved by the actual\nparticipation in the feast. They who do not choose to receive the\ninvitation, or to put on the wedding garment, do, in different ways,\nshow that they are not 'chosen' though 'called.' The lesson is, not\nof interminable and insoluble questionings about God's secrets, but\nof earnest heed to His gracious call, and earnest, believing effort\nto make the fair garment our very own, 'if so be that being clothed\nwe shall not be found naked.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE TABLES TURNED: THE QUESTIONERS QUESTIONED\n\n\n    'But when the Pharisees had heard that He had put the\n    Sadducees to silence, they were gathered together.\n    35. Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked Him a\n    question, tempting Him, and saying, 36. Master, which\n    is the great commandment in the law? 37. Jesus said\n    unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy\n    heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.\n    38. This is the first and great commandment. 39. And\n    the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy\n    neighbour as thyself. 40. On these two commandments\n    hang all the law and the prophets. 41. While the\n    Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them,\n    42. Saying, What think ye of Christ? whose Son is He?\n    They say unto Him, The son of David. 43. He saith unto\n    them, How then doth David in spirit call Him Lord,\n    saying, 44. The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit Thou on My\n    right hand, till I make Thine enemies Thy footstool?\n    45. If David then call Him Lord, how is He his son?\n    46. And no man was able to answer Him a word; neither\n    durst any man, from that day forth, ask Him any more\n    questions.'--MATT.xxii.34-46.\n\nHerodians, Sadducees, Pharisees, who were at daggers drawn with each\nother, patched up an alliance against Jesus, whom they all hated.\nTheir questions were cunningly contrived to entangle Him in the\ncobwebs of casuistry and theological hair-splitting, but He walked\nthrough the fine-spun snares as a lion might stalk away with the\nnooses set for him dangling behind him. The last of the three\nquestions put to Jesus, and the one question with which He turned\nthe tables and silenced His questioners, are our subject. In the\nformer, Jesus declares the essence of the law or of religion; in the\nlatter, He brings to light the essential loftiness of the Messiah.\n\nI. The two preceding questions are represented to have been asked by\ndeputations; this is specially noted as emanating from an\nindividual. The 'lawyer' seems to have anticipated his colleagues,\nand possibly his question was not that which they had meant to put.\nHis motive in asking it was that of 'tempting' Jesus, but we must\nnot give that word too hostile a sense, for it may mean no more than\n'testing' or trying. The legal expert wished to find out the\nattainments and standpoint of this would-be teacher, and so he\nproposed a question which would bring out the whereabouts of Jesus,\nand give opportunity for a theological wrangle. He did not ask the\nquestion for guidance, but as an inquisitor cross-examining a\nsuspected heretic. Probably the question was a stereotyped one, and\nthere are traces in the Gospels that the answer recognised as\northodox was that which Jesus gave (Luke x. 27). The two\ncommandments are quoted from Deuteronomy vi. 5 and Leviticus xix. 18\nrespectively. The lawyer probably only desired to raise a discussion\nas to the relative worth of isolated precepts. Jesus goes deep down\nbelow isolated precepts, and unifies, as well as transforms, the\nlaw. Supreme and undivided love to God is not only the great, but\nalso the first, commandment. In more modern phrase, it is the sum of\nman's duty and the germ of all goodness. Note that Jesus shifts the\ncentre from conduct to character, from deeds to affections. 'As a\nman _thinketh_ in his heart, so is he,' said the sage of old;\nChrist says, 'As a man loves, so is he.' Two loves we have,--either\nthe dark love of self and sense, or the white love of God, and all\ncharacter and conduct are determined by which of these sways us.\nNote, further, that love to God must needs be undivided. God is one\nand all; man is one and finite. To love such an object with half a\nheart is not to love. True, our weakness leads astray, but the only\nreal love corresponding to the natures of the lover and the loved is\nwhole-hearted, whole-souled, whole-minded. It must be 'all in all,\nor not at all.'\n\n'A second is like unto it,'--love to man is the under side, as it\nwere, of love to God. The two commandments are alike, for both call\nfor love, and the second is second because it is a consequence of\nthe first. Each sets up a lofty standard; 'with all thy heart' and\n'as thyself' sound equally impossible, but both result necessarily\nfrom the nature of the case. Religion is the parent of all morality,\nand especially of benevolent love to men. Innate self-regard will\nyield to no force but that of love to God. It is vain to try to\ncreate brotherhood among men unless the sense of God's fatherhood is\nits foundation. Love of neighbours is the second commandment, and to\nmake it the first, as some do now, is to end all hope of fulfilling\nit. Still further, Jesus hangs law and prophets on these two\nprecepts, which, at bottom, are one. Not only will all other duties\nbe done in doing these, since 'love is the fulfilling of the law,'\nbut all other precepts, and all the prophets' appeals and\nexhortations, are but deductions from, or helps to the attainment\nof, these. All our forms of worship, creeds, and the like, are of\nworth in so far as they are outcomes of love to God, or aid us in\nloving Him and our neighbours. Without love, they are 'as sounding\nbrass, or a tinkling cymbal.'\n\nII. The Pharisees remained 'gathered together,' and may have been\npreparing another question, but Jesus had been long enough\ninterrogated. It was not fitting that He should be catechised only.\nHis questions teach. He does not seek to 'entangle' the Pharisees\n'in their speech,' nor to make them contradict themselves, but\nbrings them full up against a difficulty, that they may open their\neyes to the great truth which is its only solution. His first\nquestion, 'What think ye of the Christ?' is simply preparatory to\nthe second. The answer which He anticipated was given,--as, of\ncourse, it would be, for the Davidic descent of the Messiah was a\ncommonplace universally accepted. One can fancy that the Pharisees\nsmiled complacently at the attempt to puzzle them with such an\nelementary question, but the smile vanished when the next one came.\nThey interpreted Psalm 110 as Messianic, and David in it called\nMessiah 'my Lord.' How can He be both? Jesus' question is in two\nforms,--'If He is son, how does David call Him Lord?' or, if He is\nLord, 'how then is He his son?' Take either designation, and the\nother lands you in inextricable difficulties.\n\nNow what was our Lord's purpose in thus driving the Pharisees into a\ncorner? Not merely to 'muzzle' them, as the word in verse 34,\nrendered 'put to silence,' literally means, but to bring to light\nthe inadequate conceptions of the Messiah and of the nature of His\nkingdom, to which exclusive recognition of his Davidic descent\nnecessarily led. David's son would be but a king after the type of\nthe Herods and C\u00e6sars, and his kingdom as 'carnal' as the wildest\nzealot expected, but David's Lord, sitting at God's right hand, and\nhaving His foes made His footstool by Jehovah Himself,--what sort of\na Messiah King would that be? The majestic image, that shapes itself\ndimly here, was a revelation that took the Pharisees' breath away,\nand made them dumb. Nor are the words without a half-disclosed claim\non Christ's part to be that which He was so soon to avow Himself\nbefore the high priest as being. The first hearers of them probably\ncaught that meaning partly, and were horrified; we hear it clearly\nin the words, and answer, 'Thou art the King of glory, O Christ!\nThou art the everlasting Son of the Father.'\n\nJesus here says that Psalm 110 is Messianic, that David was the\nauthor, and that he wrote it by divine inspiration. The present\nwriter cannot see how our Lord's argument can be saved from collapse\nif the psalm is not David's.\n\n\n\n\nTHE KING'S FAREWELL\n\n\n    'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for\n    ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear\n    beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's\n    bones, and of all uncleanness. 28. Even so ye also\n    outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within ye are\n    full of hypocrisy and iniquity. 29. Woe unto you,\n    scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! because ye build the\n    tombs of the prophets, and garnish the sepulchres of\n    the righteous, 30. And say, If we had been in the days\n    of our fathers, we would not have been partakers with\n    them in the blood of the prophets. 31. Wherefore ye be\n    witnesses unto yourselves, that ye are the children of\n    them which killed the prophets. 32. Fill ye up then the\n    measure of your fathers. 33. Ye serpents, ye generation\n    of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell!\n    34. Wherefore, behold, I send unto you prophets, and\n    wise men, and scribes: and some of them ye shall kill\n    and crucify; and some of them shall ye scourge in your\n    synagogues, and persecute them from city to city;\n    35. That upon you may come all the righteous blood shed\n    upon the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel unto\n    the blood of Zacharias son of Barachias, whom ye slew\n    between the temple and the altar. 36. Verily I say unto\n    you, All these things shall come upon this generation.\n    37. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the\n    prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee,\n    how often would I have gathered thy children together,\n    even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings,\n    and ye would not! 38. Behold, your house is left unto\n    you desolate.  39. For I say unto you, Ye shall not see\n    Me henceforth, till ye shall say, Blessed is He that\n    cometh in the name of the Lord.'--MATT.  xxiii. 27-39.\n\nIf, with the majority of authorities, we exclude verse 14 from the\ntext, there are, in this chapter, seven woes, like seven thunders,\nlaunched against the rulers. They are scathing exposures, but, as\nthe very word implies, full of sorrow as well as severity. They are\nnot denunciations, but prophecies warning that the end of such\ntempers must be mournful. The wailing of an infinite compassion,\nrather than the accents of anger, sounds in them; and it alone is\nheard in the outburst of lamenting in which Christ's heart runs\nover, as in a passion of tears, at the close. The blending of\nsternness and pity, each perfect, is the characteristic of this\nwonderful climax of our Lord's appeals to His nation. Could such\ntones of love and righteous anger joined have been sent echoing\nthrough the ages in this Gospel, if they had not been heard?\n\nI. The woe of the 'whited sepulchres.' The first four woes are\ndirected mainly to the teachings of the scribes and Pharisees; the\nlast three to their characters. The two first of these fasten on the\nsame sin, of hypocritical holiness. There is, however, a difference\nbetween the representation of hypocrites under the metaphor of the\nclean outside of the cup and platter, and that of the whited\nsepulchre. In the former, the hidden sin is 'extortion and excess';\nthat is, sensual enjoyment wrongly procured, of which the emblems of\ncup and plate suggest that good eating and drinking are a chief\npart. In the latter, it is 'iniquity'--a more general and darker\nname for sin. In the former, the Pharisee is 'blind,' self-deceived\nin part or altogether; in the latter, stress is rather laid on his\n'appearance unto men.' The repetition of the same charge in the two\nwoes teaches us Christ's estimate of the gravity and frequency of\nthe sin.\n\nThe whitened tombs of Mohammedan saints still gleam in the strong\nsunlight on many a knoll in Palestine. If the Talmudical practice is\nas old as our Lord's time, the annual whitewashing was lately over.\nIts purpose was not to adorn the tombs, but to make them\nconspicuous, so that they might be avoided for fear of defilement.\nSo He would say, with terrible irony, that the apparent holiness of\nthe rulers was really a sign of corruption, and a warning to keep\naway from them. What a blow at their self-complacency! And how\nprofoundly true it is that the more punctiliously white the\nhypocrite's outside, the more foul is he within, and the wider berth\nwill all discerning people give him! The terrible force of the\nfigure needs no dwelling on. In Christ's estimate, such a soul was\nthe very dwelling-place of death; and foul odours and worms and\ncorruption filled its sickening recesses. Terrible words to come\nfrom His lips into which grace was poured, and bold words to be\nflashed at listeners who held the life of the Speaker in their\nhands! There are two sorts of hypocrites, the conscious and the\nunconscious; and there are ten of the latter for one of the former,\nand each ten times more dangerous. Established religion breeds them,\nand they are specially likely to be found among those whose business\nis to study the documents in which it is embodied. These woes are\nnot like thunder-peals rolling above our heads, while the lightning\nstrikes the earth miles away. A religion which is mostly whitewash\nis as common among us as ever it was in Jerusalem; and its foul\naccompaniments of corruption becoming more rotten every year, as the\nwhitewash is laid on thicker, may be smelt among us, and its fatal\nend is as sure.\n\nII. The woe of the sepulchre builders (vs. 29-36). In these verses\nwe have, first, the specification of another form of hypocrisy,\nconsisting in building the prophets' tombs, and disavowing the\nfathers' murder of them. Honouring dead prophets was right; but\nhonouring dead ones and killing living ones was conscious or\nunconscious hypocrisy. The temper of mind which leads to glorifying\nthe dead witnesses, also leads to supposing that all truth was given\nby them; and hence that the living teachers, who carry their message\nfarther, are false prophets. A generation which was ready to kill\nJesus in honour of Moses, would have killed Moses in honour of\nAbraham, and would not have had the faintest apprehension of the\nmessage of either.\n\nIt is a great deal easier to build tombs than to accept teachings,\nand a good deal of the posthumous honour paid to God's messengers\nmeans, 'It's a good thing they are dead, and that we have nothing to\ndo but to put up a monument.' Bi-centenaries and ter-centenaries and\njubilees do not always imply either the understanding or the\nacceptance of the principles supposed to be glorified thereby. But\nthe magnifiers of the past are often quite unconscious of the\nhollowness of their admiration, and honest in their horror of their\nfathers' acts; and we all need the probe of such words as Christ's\nto pierce the skin of our lazy reverence for our fathers' prophets,\nand let out the foul matter below--namely, our own blindness to\nGod's messengers of to-day.\n\nThe statement of the hypocrisy is followed, in verses 31-33, with\nits unmasking and condemnation. The words glow with righteous wrath\nat white heat, and end in a burst of indignation, most unfamiliar to\nHis lips. Three sentences, like triple lightning flash from His\npained heart. With almost scornful subtlety He lays hold of the\nwords which He puts into the Pharisees' mouths, to convict them of\nkindred with those whose deeds they would disown. 'Our fathers, say\nyou? Then you do belong to the same family, after all. You confess\nthat you have their blood in your veins; and, in the very act of\ndenying sympathy with their conduct, you own kindred. And, for all\nyour protestations, spiritual kindred goes with bodily descent.'\nChrist here recognises that children probably 'take after their\nparents,' or, in modern scientific terms, that 'heredity' is the\nlaw, and that it works more surely in the transmission of evil than\nof good.\n\nThen come the awful words bidding that generation 'fill up the\nmeasure of the fathers.' They are like the other command to Judas to\ndo his work quickly. They are more than permission, they are\ncommand; but such a command as, by its laying bare of the true\ncharacter of the deed in view, is love's last effort at prevention.\nMark the growing emotion of the language. Mark the conception of a\nnation's sins as one through successive generations, and the other,\nof these as having a definite measure, which being filled, judgment\ncan no longer tarry. Generation after generation pours its\ncontributions into the vessel, and when the last black drop which it\ncan hold has been added, then comes the catastrophe. Mark the fatal\nnecessity by which inherited sin becomes darker sin. The fathers'\ncrimes are less than the sons'. This inheritance increases by each\ntransmission. The cloak strikes one more at each revolution of the\nhands.\n\nIt is hard to recognise Christ in the terrible words that follow. We\nhave heard part of them from John the Baptist; and it sounded\nnatural for him to call men serpents and the children of serpents,\nbut it is somewhat of a shock to hear Jesus hurling such names at\neven the most sinful. But let us remember that He who sees hearts,\nhas a right to tell harsh truths, and that it is truest kindness to\nstrip off masks which hide from men their own real character, and\nthat the revelation of the divine love in Jesus would be a partial\nand impotent revelation if it did not show us the righteous love\nwhich is wrath. There is nothing so terrible as the anger of gentle\ncompassion, and the fiercest and most destructive wrath is 'the\nwrath of the Lamb.' Seldom, indeed, did He show that side of His\ncharacter; but it is there, and the other side would not be so\nblessed as it is, unless that were there too.\n\nThe woe ends with the double prophecy that that generation would\nrepeat and surpass the fathers' guilt, and that on it would fall the\naccumulated penalties of past bloodshed. Note that solemn\n'therefore,' which looks back to the whole preceding context, and\nforward to the whole subsequent. Because the rulers professed\nabhorrence of their fathers' deeds, and yet inherited their spirit,\nthey too would have their prophets, and would slay them. God goes on\nsending His messengers, because we reject them; and the more deaf\nmen are, the more does He peal His words into their ears. That is\nmercy and compassion, that all men may be saved and come to the\nknowledge of the truth; but it is judgment too, and its foreseen\neffect must be regarded as part of the divine purpose in it.\nChrist's desire is one thing, His purpose another. His desire is\nthat all should find in His gospel 'the savour of life'; but His\npurpose is that, if it be not that to any, it shall be to them the\nsavour of death. Mark, too, the authority with which He, in the face\nof these scowling Pharisees, assumes the distinct divine prerogative\nof sending forth inspired men, who, as His messengers, shall stand\non a level with the prophets of old. Mark His silence as to His own\nfate, which is only obscurely hinted at in the command to fill up\nthe measure of the fathers. Observe the detailed enumeration of His\nmessengers' gifts,--'prophets' under direct inspiration, like those\nof old, which may especially refer to the apostles; 'wise men,' like\na Stephen or an Apollos; 'scribes,' such as Mark and Luke and many a\nfaithful servant since, whose pen has loved to write the name above\nevery name. Note the detailed prophecy of their treatment, which\nbegins with _slaying_ and goes down to the less severe _scourging_,\nand thence to the milder _persecution_. Do the three punishments\nbelong to the three classes of messengers, the severest falling to\nthe lot of the most highly endowed, and even the quiet penman being\nhunted from city to city?\n\nWe need not wriggle and twist to try to avoid admitting that the\ncalling of the martyred Zacharias, 'the son of Barachias,' is an\nerror of some one who confused the author of the prophetic book with\nthe person whose murder is narrated in 2 Chronicles xxiv. We do not\nknow who made the mistake, or how it appears in our text, but it is\nnot honest to try to slur it over. The punishment of long ages of\nsin, carried on from father to son, does in the course of that\nhistory of the world, which is a part of the judgment of the world,\nfall upon one generation. It takes long for the mass of heaped-up\nsin to become top-heavy; but when it is so, it buries one generation\nof those who have worked at piling it up, beneath its down-rushing\navalanche.\n\n  'The mills of God grind slowly,\n   But they grind exceeding small.'\n\nThe catastrophes of national histories are prepared for by continuous\ncenturies. The generation that laid the first powder-hornful of the\ntrain is dead and buried, long before the explosion which sends\nconstituted order and institutions sky-high. The misery is that often\nthe generation which has to pay the penalty has begun to awake to the\nsin, and would be glad to mend it, if it could. England in the\nseventeenth century, France in the eighteenth, America in the\nnineteenth, had to reap harvests from sins sown long before. Such is\nthe law of the judgment wrought out by God's providence in history.\nBut there is another judgment, begun here and perfected hereafter, in\nwhich fathers and sons shall each bear their own burden, and reap\naccurately the fruit of what they have sown. 'The soul that sinneth,\nit shall die.'\n\nIII. The parting wail of rejected love. The lightning flashes of the\nsevenfold woes end in a rain of pity and tears. His full heart\noverflows in that sad cry of lamentation over the long-continued\nfoiling of the efforts of a love that would fain have fondled and\ndefended. What intensity of feeling is in the redoubled naming of\nthe city! How yearningly and wistfully He calls, as if He might still\nwin the faithless one, and how lingeringly unwilling He is to give up\nhope! How mournfully, rather than accusingly, He reiterates the acts\nwhich had run through the whole history, using a form of the verbs\nwhich suggests continuance. Mark, too, the matter-of-course way in\nwhich Christ assumes that He sent all the prophets whom, through\nthe generations, Jerusalem had stoned.\n\nSo the lament passes into the solemn final leave-taking, with which\nour Lord closes His ministry among the Jews, and departs from the\ntemple. As, in the parable of the marriage-feast, the city was\nemphatically called 'their city,' so here the Temple, in whose\ncourts He was standing, and which in a moment He was to quit for\never, is called 'your house,' because His departure is the\nwithdrawing of the true Shechinah. It had been the house of God: now\nHe casts it off, and leaves it to them to do as they will with it.\nThe saddest punishment of long-continued rejection of His pleading\nlove, is that it ceases at last to plead. The bitterest woe for\nthose who refuse to render to Him the fruits of the vineyard, is to\nget the vineyard for their own, undisturbed. Christ's utmost\nretribution for obstinate blindness is to withdraw from our sight.\nAll the woes that were yet to fall, in long, dreary succession on\nthat nation, so long continued in its sin, so long continued in its\nmisery, were hidden in that solemn departure of Christ from the\nhenceforward empty temple. Let us fear lest our unfaithfulness meet\nthe like penalty! But even the departure does not end His yearnings,\nnor close the long story of the conflict between God's beseeching\nlove and their unbelief. The time shall come when the nation shall\nonce more lift up, with deeper, truer adoration, the hosannas of the\ntriumphal entry. And then a believing Israel shall see their King,\nand serve Him. Christ never takes final leave of any man in this\nworld. It is ever possible that dumb lips may be opened to welcome\nHim, though long rejected; and His withdrawals are His efforts to\nbring about that opening. When it takes place, how gladly does He\nreturn to the heart which is now His temple, and unveil His beauty\nto the long-darkened eyes!\n\n\n\n\nTWO FORMS OF ONE SAYING\n\n\n    'He that endureth to the end, the same shall be saved.'\n    --Matt. xxiv. 13, R.V.\n\n    'In your patience possess ye your souls.'--Luke xxi. 19.\n\nThese two sayings, different as they sound in our Version, are\nprobably divergent representations of one original. The reasons for\nso supposing are manifold and obvious on a little consideration. In\nthe first place, the two sayings occur in the Evangelists' reports\nof the same prophecy and at the same point therein. In the second\nplace, the verbal resemblance is much greater than appears in our\nAuthorised Version, because the word rendered 'patience' in Luke is\nderived from that translated 'endureth' in Matthew; and the true\nconnection between the two versions of the saying would have been\nmore obvious if we had had a similar word in both, reading in the\none 'he that endureth,' and in the other 'in your endurance.' In the\nthird place, the difference between these two sayings presented in\nour Version, in that the one is a promise and the other a command,\nis due to an incorrect reading of St. Luke's words. The Revised\nVersion substitutes for the imperative 'possess' the promise 'ye\nshall possess,' and with that variation the two sayings are brought\na good deal nearer each other. In both endurance is laid down as the\ncondition, which in both is followed by a promise. Then, finally,\nthere need be no difficulty in seeing that 'possessing,' or, more\nliterally, 'gaining your souls,' is an exact equivalent of the other\nexpression, 'ye shall be saved.' One cannot but remember our Lord's\nsolemn antithetical phrase about a man 'losing his own soul.' To\n'win one's soul' is to be saved; to be saved is to win one's soul.\n\nSo I think I have made out my thesis that the two sayings are\nsubstantially one. They carry a great weight of warning, of\nexhortation, and of encouragement to us all. Let us try now to reap\nsome of that harvest.\n\nI. First, then, notice the view of our condition which underlies\nthese sayings.\n\nIt is a sad and a somewhat stern one, but it is one to which, I\nthink, most men's hearts will respond, if they give themselves\nleisure to think; and if they 'see life steadily, and see it whole.'\nFor howsoever many days are bright, and howsoever all days are good,\nyet, on the whole, 'man is a soldier, and life is a fight.' For some\nof us it is simple endurance; for all of us it has sometimes been\nagony; for all of us, always, it presents resistance to every kind of\nhigh and noble career, and especially to the Christian one. Easy-going\noptimists try to skim over these facts, but they are not to be so\nlightly set aside. You have only to look at the faces that you\nmeet in the street to be very sure that it is always a grave and\nsometimes a bitter thing to live. And so our two texts presuppose\nthat life on the whole demands endurance, whatever may be included\nin that great word.\n\nThink of the inward resistance and outward hindrances to every lofty\nlife. The scholar, the man of culture, the philanthropist--all who\nwould live for anything else than the present, the low, and the\nsensual--find that there is a banded conspiracy, as it were, against\nthem, and that they have to fight their way by continual antagonism,\nby continual persistence, as well as by continual endurance. Within,\nweakness, torpor, weariness, levity, inconstant wills, bright\npurposes clouding over, and all the cowardice and animalism of our\nnature war continually against the better, higher self. And without,\nthere is a down-dragging, as persistent as the force of gravity,\ncoming from the whole assemblage of external things that solicit,\nand would fain seduce us. The old legends used to tell us how,\nwhensoever a knight set out upon any great and lofty quest, his path\nwas beset on either side by voices, sometimes whispering seductions,\nand sometimes shrieking maledictions, but always seeking to withdraw\nhim from his resolute march onwards to his goal. And every one of\nus, if we have taken on us the orders of any lofty chivalry, and\nespecially if we have sworn ourselves knights of the Cross, have to\nmeet the same antagonism. Then, too, there are golden apples rolled\nupon our path, seeking to draw us away from our steadfast endurance.\n\nBesides the hindrances in every noble path, the hindrances within\nand the hindrances without, the weight of self and the drawing of\nearth, there come to us all--in various degrees no doubt, and in\nvarious shapes--but to all of us there come the burdens of sorrows\nand cares, and anxieties and trials. Wherever two or three are\ngathered together, even if they gather for a feast, there will be\nsome of them who carry a sorrow which they know well will never be\nlifted off their shoulders and their hearts, until they lay down all\ntheir burdens at the grave's mouth; and it is weary work to plod on\nthe path of life with a weight that cannot be shifted, with a wound\nthat can never be stanched.\n\nOh, brethren, rosy-coloured optimism is all a dream. The recognition\nof the good that is in the evil is the devout man's talisman, but\nthere is always need for the resistance and endurance which my texts\nprescribe. And the youngest of us, the gladdest of us, the least\nexperienced of us, the most frivolous of us, if we will question our\nown hearts, will hear their Amen to the stern, sad view of the facts\nof earthly life which underlies this text.\n\nThough it has many other aspects, the world seems to me sometimes to\nbe like that pool at Jerusalem in the five porches of which lay,\ngroaning under various diseases, but none of them without an ache, a\ngreat multitude of impotent folk, halt and blind. Astronomers tell\nus that one, at any rate, of the planets rolls on its orbit swathed\nin clouds and moisture. The world moves wrapped in a mist of tears.\nGod only knows them all, but each heart knows its own bitterness and\nresponds to the words, 'Ye have need of patience.'\n\nII. Now, secondly, mark the victorious temper.\n\nThat is referred to in the one saying by 'he that endureth,' and in\nthe other 'in your endurance.' Now, it is very necessary for the\nunderstanding of many places in Scripture to remember that the\nnotion either of patience or of endurance by no means exhausts the\npower of this noble Christian word. For these are passive virtues,\nand however excellent and needful they may be, they by no means sum\nup our duty in regard to the hindrances and sorrows, the burdens and\nweights, of which I have been trying to speak. For you know it is\nonly 'what cannot be cured' that 'must be endured,' and even\nincurable things are not merely to be endured, but they ought to be\nutilised. It is not enough that we should build up a dam to keep the\nfloods of sorrow and trial from overflowing our fields; we must turn\nthe turbid waters into our sluices, and get them to drive our mills.\nIt is not enough that we should screw ourselves up to lie\nunresistingly under the surgeon's knife; though God knows that it is\nas much as we can manage sometimes, and we have to do as convicts\nunder the lash do, get a bit of lead or a bullet into our mouths,\nand bite at it to keep ourselves from crying out. But that is not\nall our duty in regard to our trials and difficulties. There is\nrequired something more than passive endurance.\n\nThis noble word of my texts does mean a great deal more than that. It\nmeans active persistence as well as patient submission. It is not\nenough that we should stand and bear the pelting of the pitiless storm,\nunmurmuring and unbowed by it; but we are bound to go on our course,\nbearing up and steering right onwards. Persistent perseverance in the\npath that is marked out for us is especially the virtue that our Lord\nhere enjoins. It is well to sit still unmurmuring; it is better to\nmarch on undiverted and unchecked. And when we are able to keep\nstraight on in the path which is marked out for us, and especially in\nthe path that leads us to God, notwithstanding all opposing voices, and\nall inward hindrances and reluctances; when we are able to go to our\ntasks of whatever sort they are and to do them, though our hearts are\nbeating like sledge-hammers; when we say to ourselves, 'It does not\nmatter a bit whether I am sad or glad, fresh or wearied, helped or\nhindered by circumstances, this one thing I do,' then we have come to\nunderstand and to practise the grace that our Master here enjoins. The\nendurance which wins the soul, and leads to salvation, is no mere\npassive submission, excellent and hard to attain as that often is;\nbut it is brave perseverance in the face of all difficulties, and in\nspite of all enemies.\n\nMark how emphatically our Lord here makes the space within which\nthat virtue has to be exercised conterminous with the whole duration\nof our lives. I need not discuss what 'the end' was in the original\napplication of the words; that would take us too far afield. But\nthis I desire to insist upon, that right on to the very close of\nlife we are to expect the necessity of putting forth the exercise of\nthe very same persistence by which the earlier stages of any noble\ncareer must necessarily be marked. In other departments of life\nthere may be relaxation, as a man goes on through the years; but in\nthe culture of our characters, and in the deepening of our faith,\nand in the drawing near to our God, there must be no cessation or\ndiminution of earnestness and of effort right up to the close.\n\nThere are plenty of people, and I dare say that I address some of\nthem now, who began their Christian career full of vigour and with a\nheat that was too hot to last. But, alas, in a year or two all the\nfervency was past, and they settled down into the average, easygoing,\nunprogressive Christian, who is a wet blanket to the devotion and\nwork of a Christian church. I wonder how many of us would scarcely\nknow our own former selves if we could see them. Christian people,\nto how many of us should the word be rung in our ears: 'Ye did run\nwell; _what_ did hinder you'? The answer is--Myself.\n\nBut may I say that this emphatic 'to the end' has a special lesson\nfor us older people, who, as natural strength abates and enthusiasm\ncools down, are apt to be but the shadows of our old selves in many\nthings? But there should be fire within the mountain, though there\nmay be snow on its crest. Many a ship has been lost on the harbour\nbar; and there is no excuse for the captain leaving the bridge, or\nthe engineer coming up from the engine-room, stormy as the one\nposition and stifling as the other may be, until the anchor is down,\nand the vessel is moored and quiet in the desired haven. The desert,\nwith its wild beasts and its Bedouin, reaches right up to the city\ngates, and until we are within these we need to keep our hands on\nour sword-hilts and be ready for conflict. 'He that endureth to the\nend, the same shall be saved.'\n\nIII. Lastly, note the crown which endurance wins.\n\nNow, I need not spend or waste your time in mere verbal criticism,\nbut I wish to point out that that word 'soul' in one of our two\ntexts means both the soul and the life of which it is the seat; and\nalso to remark that the being saved and the winning of the life or\nthe soul has distinct application, in our Lord's words, primarily to\ncorporeal safety and preservation in the midst of dangers; and,\nstill further, to note the emphatic '_in_ your patience,' as\nsuggesting not only a future but a present acquisition of one's own\nsoul, or life, as the result of such persevering endurance and\nenduring perseverance. All which things being kept in view, I may\nexpand the great promise that lies in my text, as follows:--\n\nFirst, by such persevering persistence in the Christian path, we gain\nourselves. Self-surrender is self-possession.  We never own ourselves\ntill we have given up owning ourselves, and yielded ourselves to that\nLord who gives us back saints to ourselves. Self-control is\nself-possession. We do not own ourselves as long as it is possible\nfor any weakness in flesh, sense, or spirit to gain dominion over us\nand hinder us from doing what we know to be right. We are not our own\nmasters then. 'Whilst they promise them liberty, they themselves are\nthe bond-slaves of corruption.' It is only when we have the bit well\ninto the jaws of the brutes, and the reins tight in our hands, so\nthat a finger-touch can check or divert the course, that we are truly\nlords of the chariot in which we ride and of the animals that impel it.\n\nAnd such self-control which is the winning of ourselves is, as I\nbelieve, thoroughly realised only when, by self-surrender of\nourselves to Jesus Christ, we get His help to govern ourselves and\nso become lords of ourselves. Some little petty Rajah, up in the\nhills, in a quasi-independent State in India, is troubled by\nmutineers whom he cannot subdue; what does he do? He sends a message\ndown to Lahore or Calcutta, and up come English troops that\nconsolidate his dominion, and he rules securely, when he has\nconsented to become a feudatory, and recognise his overlord. And so\nyou and I, by continual repetition, in the face of self and sin, of\nour acts of self-surrender, bring Christ into the field; and then,\nwhen we have said, 'Lord, take me; I live, yet not I, but Christ\nliveth in me'; and when we daily, in spite of hindrances, stand to\nthe surrender and repeat the consecration, then 'in our perseverance\nwe acquire our souls.'\n\nAgain, such persistence wins even the bodily life, whether it\npreserves it or loses it. I have said that the words of our texts\nhave an application to bodily preservation in the midst of the\ndreadful dangers of the siege and destruction of Jerusalem. But so\nregarded they are a paradox. For hear how the Master introduces\nthem: 'Some of you shall they cause to be put to death, but there\nshall not a hair of your heads perish. In your perseverance ye shall\nwin your lives.' 'Some of you they will put to death,' but ye 'shall\nwin your lives,'--a paradox which can only be solved by experience.\nWhether this bodily life be preserved or lost, it is gained when it\nis used as a means of attaining the higher life of union with God.\nMany a martyr had the promise, 'Not a hair of your head shall\nperish,' fulfilled at the very moment when the falling axe shore his\nlocks in twain, and severed his head from his body.\n\nFinally, full salvation, the true possession of himself, and the\nacquisition of the life which really is life, comes to a man who\nperseveres to the end, and thus passes to the land where he will\nreceive the recompense of the reward. The one moment the runner,\nwith flushed cheek and forward swaying body, hot, with panting\nbreath, and every muscle strained, is straining to the winning-post;\nand the next moment, in utter calm, he is wearing the crown.\n\n'To the end,' and what a contrast the next moment will be! Brethren,\nmay it be true of you and of me that 'we are not of them that draw\nback unto perdition, but of them that believe to the winning of\ntheir souls!'\n\n\n\n\nTHE CARRION AND THE VULTURES\n\n\n    'Wheresoever the carcase is, there will the eagles be\n    gathered together.'--MATT. xxiv. 28.\n\nThis grim parable has, of course, a strong Eastern colouring. It is\nbest appreciated by dwellers in those lands. They tell us that no\nsooner is some sickly animal dead, or some piece of carrion thrown\nout by the way, than the vultures--for the eagle does not prey upon\ncarrion--appear. There may not have been one visible a moment before\nin the hot blue sky, but, taught by scent or by sight that their\nbanquet is prepared, they come flocking from all corners of the\nheavens, a hideous crowd round their hideous meal, fighting with\nflapping wings and tearing it with their strong talons. And so, says\nChrist, wherever there is a rotting, dead society, a carcase\nhopelessly corrupt and evil, down upon it, as if drawn by some\nunerring attraction, will come the angels, the vultures of the\ndivine judgment.\n\nThe words of my text were spoken, according to the version of them\nin Luke's Gospel, in answer to a question from the disciples. Our\nLord had been discoursing, in very solemn words, which, starting\nfrom the historical event of the impending fall of Jerusalem, had\ngradually passed into a description of the greater event of His\nsecond coming. And all these solemn warnings had stirred nothing\ndeeper in the bosoms of the disciples than a tepid and idle\ncuriosity which expressed itself in the one almost irrelevant\nquestion, 'Where, Lord?' He answers--Not here, not there, but\neverywhere where there is a carcase. The great event which is\nreferred to in our Lord's solemn words is a future judgment, which\nis to be universal. But the words are not exhausted in their\nreference to that event. There have been many 'comings of the Lord,'\nmany 'days of the Lord,' which on a smaller scale have embodied the\nsame principles as are to be displayed in world-wide splendour and\nawfulness at the last.\n\nI. The first thing, then, in these most true and solemn words is\nthis, that they are to us a revelation of a law which operates with\nunerring certainty through all the course of the world's history.\n\nWe cannot tell, but God can, when evil has become incurable; or\nwhen, in the language of my text, the mass of any community has\nbecome a carcase. There may be flickerings of life, all unseen by\nour eyes, or there may be death, all unsuspected by our shallow\nvision. So long as there is a possibility of amendment, 'sentence\nagainst an evil work is not executed speedily'; and God dams back,\nas it were, the flow of His retributive judgment, 'not willing that\nany should perish, but that all should come to the knowledge of the\ntruth.' But when He sees that all is vain, that no longer is\nrestoration or recovery possible, then He lets loose the flood; or,\nin the language of my text, when the thing has become a carcase,\nthen the vultures, God's scavengers, come and clear it away from off\nthe face of the earth.\n\nNow that is the law that has been working from the beginning,\nworking as well in regard to the long delays as in regard to the\nswift execution. There is another metaphor, in the Old Testament,\nthat puts the same idea in a very striking form. It speaks about\nGod's 'awakening,' as if His judgment slumbered. All round that dial\nthe hand goes creeping, creeping, creeping slowly, but when it comes\nto the appointed line, then the bell strikes. And so years and\ncenturies go by, all chance of recovery departs, and then the crash!\nThe ice palace, built upon the frozen blocks, stands for a while,\nbut when the spring thaws come, it breaks up.\n\nLet me remind you of some instances and illustrations. Take that\nstory which people stumble over in the early part of the Old\nTestament revelation--the sweeping away of those Canaanitish nations\nwhose hideous immoralities had turned the land into a perfect sty of\nabominations. There they had been wallowing, and God's Spirit, which\nstrives with men ever and always, had been striving with them, we\nknow not for how long, but when the time came at which, according to\nthe grim metaphor of the Old Testament, 'the measure of their\niniquity was full,' then He hurled upon them the fierce hosts out of\nthe desert, and in a whirlwind of fire and sword swept them off the\nface of the earth.\n\nTake another illustration. These very people, who had been the\nexecutioners of divine judgment, settled in the land, fell into the\nsnare--and you know the story. The captivities of Israel and Judah\nwere other illustrations of the same thing. The fall of Jerusalem,\nto which our Lord pointed in the solemn context of these words, was\nanother. For millenniums God had been pleading with them, sending\nHis prophets, rising early and sending, saying, 'Oh, do not do this\nabominable thing which I hate!' 'And last of all He sent His Son.'\nChrist being rejected, God had shot His last bolt. He had no more\nthat He could do. Christ being refused, the nation's doom was fixed\nand sealed, and down came the eagles of Rome, again God's scavengers,\nto sweep away the nation on which had been lavished such wealth of\ndivine love, but which had now come to be a rotting abomination,\nand to this day remains in a living death, a miraculously preserved\nmonument of God's Judgments.\n\nTake another illustration how, once more, the executants of the law\nfall under its power. That nation which crushed the feeble resources\nof Judaea, as a giant might crush a mosquito in his grasp, in its\nturn became honeycombed with abominations and immoralities; and then\ndown from the frozen north came the fierce Gothic tribes over the\nRoman territory. One of their captains called himself the 'Scourge\nof God,' and he was right. Another swooping down of the vultures\nflashed from the blue heavens, and the carrion was torn to fragments\nby their strong beaks.\n\nTake one more illustration--that French Revolution at the end of the\neighteenth century. The fathers sowed the wind, and the children\nreaped the whirlwind. Generations of heartless luxury, selfishness,\ncarelessness of the cry of the poor, immoral separation of class\nfrom class, and all the sins which a ruling caste could commit\nagainst a subject people, had prepared for the convulsion. Then, in\na carnival of blood and deluges of fire and sulphur, the rotten\nthing was swept off the face of the earth, and the world breathed\nmore freely for its destruction.\n\nTake another illustration, through which many of us have lived. The\nbitter legacy of negro slavery that England gave to her giant son\nacross the Atlantic, which blasted and sucked the strength out of\nthat great republic, went down amidst universal execration. It took\ncenturies for the corpse to be ready, but when the vultures came\nthey made quick work of it.\n\nAnd so, as I say, all over the world, and from the beginning of\ntime, with delays according to the possibilities of restoration and\nrecovery which the divine eye discerns, this law is working. Verily\nthere is a God that judgeth in the earth. 'The wheels of God grind\nslowly, but they grind exceeding small.' 'Wheresoever the carcase\nis, there will the eagles be gathered together.'\n\nAnd has the law exhausted its force? Are there going to be no more\napplications of it? Are there no European societies at this day that\nin their godlessness and social iniquities are hurrying fast to the\ncondition of carrion? Look around us--drunkenness, sensual\nimmorality, commercial dishonesty, senseless luxury amongst the\nrich, heartless indifference to the wail of the poor, godlessness\nover all classes and ranks of the community. Surely, surely, if the\nbody politic be not dead, it is sick nigh unto death. And I, for my\npart, have little hesitation in saying that as far as one can see,\nEuropean society is driving as fast as it can, with its godlessness\nand immorality, to such another 'day of the Lord' as these words of\nmy text suggest. Let us see to it that we do our little part to be\nthe 'salt of the earth' which shall keep it from rotting, and so\ndrive away the vultures of judgment.\n\nII. But let me turn to another point. We have here a law which is to\nhave a far more tremendous accomplishment in the future.\n\nThere have been many comings of the Lord, many days of the Lord,\nwhen, as Isaiah says in his magnificent vision of one such, 'the\nloftiness of man has been bowed down, and the haughtiness of man\nmade low, and the Lord alone exalted in that day when He arises to\nshake terribly the earth. And all these 'days of the Lord' are\nprophecies, and distinctly point to a future 'day' when the same\nprinciples which have been disclosed as working on a small scale in\nthem, shall be manifested in full embodiment. These 'days of the\nLord' proclaim '_the_ day of the Lord.' In the prophecies both\nof the Old and New Testaments that universal future judgment is seen\nglimmering through the descriptions of the nearer partial judgments.\nSo interpreters are puzzled to say at what point in a prophecy the\ntransition is made from the smaller to the greater. The prophecies\nare like the diagrams in treatises on perspective, in which\ndiverging lines are drawn from the eye, enclosing a square or other\nfigure, and which, as they recede further from the point of view,\nenclose a figure, the same in shape but of greater dimensions. There\nis a historical event foretold, the fall of Jerusalem. It is close\nup to the eyes of the disciples, and is comparatively small. Carry\nout the lines that touch its corners and define its shape, and upon\nthe far distant curtain of the dim future there is thrown a like\nfigure immensely larger, the coming of Jesus Christ to judge the\nworld. All these little premonitions and foretastes and anticipatory\nspecimens point onwards to the assured termination of the world's\nhistory in that great and solemn day, when all men shall be gathered\nbefore Christ's throne, and He shall judge all nations--judge you\nand me amongst the rest. That future judgment is distinctly a part\nof the Christian revelation. Jesus Christ is to come in bodily form\nas He went away. All men are to be judged by Him. That judgment is\nto be the destruction of opposing forces, the sweeping away of the\ncarrion of moral evil.\n\nIt is therefore distinctly a part of the message that is to be\npreached by us, under penalty of the awful condemnation pronounced\non the watchman who seeth the sword coming and gives no warning. It\nis not becoming to make such a solemn message the opportunity for\npictorial rhetoric, which vulgarises its greatness and weakens its\npower. But it is worse than an offence against taste; it is\nunfaithfulness to the preaching which God bids us, treason to our\nKing, and cruelty to our hearers, to suppress the warning--'The day\nof the Lord cometh.' There are many temptations to put it in the\nbackground. Many of you do not want that kind of preaching. You want\nthe gentle side of divine revelation. You say to us in fact, though\nnot in words. 'Prophesy to us smooth things. Tell us about the\ninfinite love which wraps all mankind in its embrace. Speak to us of\nthe Father God, who \"hateth nothing that He hath made.\" Magnify the\nmercy and gentleness and tenderness of Christ. Do not say anything\nabout that other side. It is not in accordance with the tendencies\nof modern thought.'\n\nSo much the worse, then, for the tendencies of modern thought. I\nyield to no man in the ardour of my belief that the centre of all\nrevelation is the revelation of a God of infinite love, but I cannot\nforget that there is such a thing as 'the terror of the Lord,' and I\ndare not disguise my conviction that no preaching sounds every\nstring in the manifold harp of God's truth, which does not strike\nthat solemn note of warning of judgment to come.\n\nSuch suppression is unfaithfulness. Surely, if we preachers believe\nthat tremendous truth, we are bound to speak. It is cruel kindness\nto be silent. If a traveller is about to plunge into some gloomy\njungle infested by wild beasts, he is a friend who sits by the\nwayside to warn him of his danger. Surely you would not call a\nsignalman unfeeling because he held out a red lamp when he knew that\njust round the curve beyond his cabin the rails were up, and that\nany train that reached the place would go over in horrid ruin.\nSurely that preaching is not justly charged with harshness which\nrings out the wholesome proclamation of a day of judgment, when we\nshall each give account of ourselves to the divine-human Judge.\n\nSuch suppression weakens the power of the Gospel, which is the\nproclamation of deliverance, not only from the power, but also from\nthe future retribution of sin. In such a maimed gospel there is but\nan enfeebled meaning given to that idea of deliverance. And though\nthe thing that breaks the heart and draws men to God is not terror,\nbut love, the terror must often be evoked in order to lead to love.\nIt is only 'judgment to come' which will make Felix tremble, and\nthough his trembling may pass away, and he be none the nearer the\nkingdom, there will never any good be done to him unless he does\ntremble. So, for all these reasons, all faithful preaching of\nChrist's Gospel must include the proclamation of Christ as Judge.\n\nBut, if I should be unfaithful, if I did not preach this truth, what\nshall we call you if you turn away from it? You would not think it a\nwise thing of the engine-driver to shut his eyes if the red lamp\nwere shown, and to go along at full speed and to pay no heed to\nthat? Do you think it would be right for a Christian minister to\nlock his lips and never say, 'There is a judgment to come'? And do\nyou think it is wise of you not to think of that, and to shape your\nconduct accordingly?\n\nOh, dear friends! I do not doubt that the centre of all divine\nrevelation is the love of God, nor do I doubt that incomparably the\nhighest representation of the power of Christ's Gospel is that it\ndraws men away from the love and the practice of evil, and makes\nthem pure and holy. But that is not all. There is not only the\npractice and the power of sin to be fought against, but there is the\npenalty of sin to be taken into account; and as sure as you are\nliving, and as sure as there is a God above us, so sure is it that\nthere is a Day of Judgment, when 'He will judge the world in\nrighteousness by the Man whom He hath ordained.' The believing of\nthat is not salvation, but the belief of that seems to me to be\nindispensable for any vigorous grasp of the delivering love of God\nin Jesus Christ our Lord.\n\nIII. And so the last thing that I have to say is that this is a law\nwhich need never touch you, nor you know anything about but by the\nhearing of the ear.\n\nIt is told us that we may escape it. When Paul reasoned of\nrighteousness, and temperance, and judgment to come, his hearer\ntrembled as he listened, but there was an end. But the true effect\nof this message is the effect that Paul himself attached to it when\nhe said in the hearing of Athenian wisdom, 'God hath commanded all\nmen everywhere _to repent_, because He hath appointed a day in\nthe which He will judge the world in righteousness.' Judgment\nfaithfully preached is the preparation for preaching that 'there is\nno condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus.' If we trust in\nthat great Saviour, we shall be quickened from the death of sin, and\nso shall not be food for the vultures of judgment. Can these corpses\nlive? Can this eating putrescence, which burrows its foul way\nthrough our souls, be sweetened? Is there any antiseptic for it?\nYes, blessed be God, and the hand whose touch healed the leper will\nheal us, and 'our flesh will come again as the flesh of a little\nchild.' Christ has bared His breast to the divine judgments against\nsin, and if by faith we shelter ourselves in Him, we shall never\nknow the terrors of that awful day.\n\nBe sure that judgment to come is no mere figure dressed up to\nfrighten children, nor the product of blind superstition, but that\nit is the inevitable issue of the righteousness of the All-ruling\nGod. You and I and all the sons of men have to face it. 'Herein is\nour love made perfect, that we may have boldness before Him in the\nDay of Judgment.' Betake yourselves, as poor sinful creatures who\nknow something of the corruption of your own hearts, to that dear\nChrist who has died on the Cross for you, and all that is obnoxious\nto the divine judgments will, by His transforming life breathed into\nyou, be taken out of your hearts; and when that 'day of the Lord'\nshall dawn, you, trusting in the sacrifice of Him who is your Judge,\nwill 'have a song as when a holy solemnity is kept.' Take Christ for\nyour Saviour, and then, when the vultures of judgment, with their\nmighty black pinions, are wheeling and circling in the sky, ready to\npounce upon their prey, He will gather you 'as a hen gathereth her\nchickens under her wings,' and beneath their shadow you will be\nsafe.\n\n\n\n\nWATCHING FOR THE KING\n\n\n    'Watch therefore: for ye know not what hour your Lord\n    doth come. 43. But know this, that if the goodman of\n    the house had known in what watch the thief would come,\n    he would have watched, and would not have suffered his\n    house to be broken up. 44. Therefore be ye also ready:\n    for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man\n    cometh. 45. Who then is a faithful and wise servant,\n    whom his lord hath made ruler over his household, to\n    give them meat in due season! 46. Blessed is that\n    servant, whom his lord when he cometh shall find so\n    doing. 47. Verily I say unto you, That he shall make\n    him ruler over all his goods. 48. But and if that evil\n    servant shall say in his heart, My lord delayeth his\n    coming; 49. And shall begin to smite his\n    fellow-servants, and to eat and drink with the drunken;\n    50. The lord of that servant shall come in a day when\n    he looketh not for him, and in an hour that he is not\n    aware of, 51. And shall out him asunder, and appoint\n    him his portion with the hypocrites: there shall be\n    weeping and gnashing of teeth.'--MATT. xxiv. 42-51.\n\nThe long day's work was nearly done. Christ had left the temple,\nnever to return. He took His way across the Mount of Olives to\nBethany, and was stayed by the disciples' question as to the date of\nthe destruction of the temple, which He had foretold, and of the\n'end of the world,' which they attached to it. They could not fancy\nthe world lasting without the temple! We often make a like mistake.\nSo there, on the hillside, looking across to the city lying in the\nsad, fading evening light, He spoke the prophecies of this chapter,\nwhich begin with the destruction of Jerusalem, and insensibly merge\ninto the final coming of the Son of Man, of which that was a prelude\nand a type. The difficulty of accurately apportioning the details of\nthis prophecy to the future events which fulfil them is common to it\nwith all prophecy, of which it is a characteristic to blend events\nwhich, in the fulfilment, are far apart. From the mountain top, the\neye travels over great stretches of country, but does not see the\ngorges, separating points which seem close together, foreshortened\nby distance.\n\nThere are many comings of the Son of Man before His final coming for\nfinal judgment, and the nearer and smaller ones are themselves\nprophecies. So, we do not need to settle the chronology of\nunfulfilled prophecy in order to get the full benefit of Christ's\nteachings here. In its moral and spiritual effect on us, the\nuncertainty of the time of our going to Christ is nearly identical\nwith the uncertainty of the time of His coming to us.\n\nI. The command of watchfulness enforced by our ignorance of the time\nof His coming (vs. 42-44). The two commands at the beginning and end\nof the paragraph are not quite the same. 'Be ye ready' is the\nconsequence of watchfulness. Nor are the two appended reasons the\nsame; for the first command is grounded on His coming at a day when\n'ye _know_ not,' and the second on His coming 'in an hour that\nye _think_ not,' that is to say, it not only is uncertain, but\nunexpected and surprising. There may also be a difference worth\nnoting in the different designations of Christ as 'your Lord,'\nstanding in a special relation to you, and as 'the Son of Man,' of\nkindred with all men, and their Judge. What is this 'watchfulness'?\nIt is literally wakefulness. We are beset by perpetual temptations\nto sleep, to spiritual drowsiness and torpor. 'An opium sky rains\ndown soporifics.' And without continual effort, our perception of\nthe unseen realities and our alertness for service will be lulled to\nsleep. The religion of multitudes is a sleepy religion. Further, it\nis a vivid and ever-present conviction of His certain coming, and\nconsequently a habitual realising of the transience of the existing\norder of things, and of the fast-approaching realities of the\nfuture. Further, it is the keeping of our minds in an attitude of\nexpectation and desire, our eyes ever travelling to the dim distance\nto mark the far-off shining of His coming. What a miserable contrast\nto this is the temper of professing Christendom as a whole! It is\nswallowed up in the present, wide awake to interests and hopes\nbelonging to this 'bank and shoal of time,' but sunk in slumber as\nto that great future, or, if ever the thought of it intrudes,\nshrinking, rather than desire, accompanies it, and it is soon\nhustled out of mind.\n\nChrist bases His command on our ignorance of the time of His coming.\nIt was no part of His purpose in this prophecy to remove that\nignorance, and no calculations of the chronology of unfulfilled\npredictions have pierced the darkness. It was His purpose that from\ngeneration to generation His servants should be kept in the attitude\nof expectation, as of an event that may come at any time and must\ncome at some time. The parallel uncertainty of the time of death,\nthough not what is meant here, serves the same moral end if rightly\nused, and the fact of death is exposed to the same danger of being\nneglected because of the very uncertainty, which ought to be one\nchief reason for keeping it ever in view. Any future event, which\ncombines these two things, absolute certainty that it will happen,\nand utter uncertainty when it will happen, ought to have power to\ninsist on being remembered, at least, till it was prepared for, and\nwould have it, if men were not such fools. Christ's coming would be\noftener contemplated if it were more welcome. But what sort of a\nservant is he, who has no glow of gladness at the thought of meeting\nhis lord? True Christians are 'all them that have loved His\nappearing.'\n\nThe illustrative example which separates these two commands is\nremarkable. The householder's ignorance of the time when the thief\nwould come is the reason why he does not watch. He cannot keep awake\nall night, and every night, to be ready for him; so he has to go to\nsleep, and is robbed. But our ignorance is a reason for wakefulness,\nbecause we can keep awake all the night of life. The householder\nwatches to prevent, but we to share in, that for which the watch is\nkept. The figure of the thief is chosen to illustrate the one point\nof the unexpected stealthy approach. But is there not deep truth in\nit, to the effect that Christ's coming is like that of a robber to\nthose who are asleep, depriving them of earthly treasures? The word\nrendered 'broken up' means literally 'dug through,' and points to a\nclay or mud house, common in the East, which is entered, not by\nbursting open doors or windows, but by digging through the wall.\nDeath comes to men sunk in spiritual slumber, to strip them of good\nwhich they would fain keep, and makes his entrance by a breach in\nthe earthly house of this tabernacle. So St. Paul, in his earliest\nEpistle, refers to this saying (a proof of the early diffusion of\nthe gospel narrative), and says, 'Ye, brethren, are not in darkness,\nthat that day should overtake you as a thief.'\n\nII. The picture and reward of watchfulness. The general exhortation\nto watch is followed by a pair of contrasted parable portraits,\nprimarily applicable to the apostles and to those 'set over His\nhousehold.' But if we remember what Christ taught as the condition\nof pre-eminence in His kingdom, we shall not confine their\napplication to an order.\n\n  'The least flower with a brimming cup may stand,\n   And share its dew-drop with another near,'\n\nand the most slenderly endowed Christian has some crumb of the bread\nof life intrusted to him to dispense. It is to be observed that\nwatchfulness is not mentioned in this portraiture of the faithful\nservant. It is presupposed as the basis and motive of his service.\nSo we learn the double lesson that the attitude of continual outlook\nfor the Lord is needed, if we are to discharge the tasks which He\nhas set us, and that the true effect of watchfulness is to harness\nus to the car of duty. Many other motives actuate Christian\nfaithfulness, but all are reinforced by this, and where it is feeble\nthey are more or less inoperative. We cannot afford to lose its\ninfluence. A Church or a soul which has ceased to be looking for Him\nwill have let all its tasks drop from its drowsy hands, and will\nfeel the power of other constraining motives of Christian service\nbut faintly, as in a half-dream.\n\nOn the other hand, true waiting for Him is best expressed in the\nquiet discharge of accustomed and appointed tasks. The right place\nfor the servant to be found, when the Lord comes, is 'so doing' as\nHe commands, however secular the task may be. That was a wise judge\nwho, when sudden darkness came on, and people thought the end of the\nworld was at hand, said, 'Bring lights, and let us go on with the\ncase. We cannot be better employed, if the end has come, than in\ndoing our duty.' Flighty impatience of common tasks is not watching\nfor the King, as Paul had to teach the Thessalonians, who were\n'shaken' in mind by the thought of the day of the Lord; but the\nproper attitude of the watchers is 'that ye study to be quiet, and\nto do your own business.'\n\nObserve, further, the interrogative form of the parable. The\nquestion is the sharp point which gives penetrating power, and\nsuggests Christ's high estimate of the worth and difficulty of such\nconduct, and sets us to ask for ourselves, 'Lord, is it I?' The\nservant is 'faithful' inasmuch as he does his Lord's will, and\nrightly uses the goods intrusted to him, and 'wise' inasmuch as he\nis 'faithful.' For a single-hearted devotion to Christ is the parent\nof insight into duty, and the best guide to conduct; and whoever\nseeks only to be true to his Lord in the use of his gifts and\npossessions, will not lack prudence to guide him in giving to each\nhis food, and that in due season. The two characteristics are\nconnected in another way also; for, if the outcome of faithfulness\nbe taken into account, its wisdom is plain, and he who has been\nfaithful even unto death will be seen to have been wise though he\ngave up all, when the crown of eternal life sparkles on his\nforehead. Such faithfulness and wisdom (which are at bottom but two\nnames for one course of conduct) find their motive in that\nwatchfulness, which works as ever in the great Taskmaster's eye, and\nas ever keeping in view His coming, and the rendering of account to\nHim.\n\nThe reward of the faithful servant is stated in language similar to\nthat of the parable of the talents. Faithfulness in a narrower\nsphere leads to a wider. The reward for true work is more work, of\nnobler sort and on a grander scale. That is true for earth and for\nheaven. If we do His will here, we shall one day exchange the\nsubordinate place of the steward for the authority of the ruler, and\nthe toil of the servant for the 'joy of the Lord.' The soul that is\njoined to Christ and is one in will with Him has all things for its\nservants; and he who uses all things for his own and his brethren's\nhighest good is lord of them all, while he walks amid the shadows of\ntime, and will be lifted to loftier dominion over a grander world\nwhen he passes hence.\n\nIII. The picture and doom of the unwatchful servant. This portrait\npresupposes that a long period will elapse before Christ comes. The\nsecret thought of the evil servant is the thought of a time far down\nthe ages from the moment of our Lord's speaking. It would take\ncenturies for such a temper to be developed in the Church. What is\nthe temper? A secret dismissal of the anticipation of the Lord's\nreturn, and that not merely because He has been long in coming, but\nas thinking that He has broken His word, and has not come when He\nsaid that He would. This unspoken dimming over of the expectation\nand unconfessed doubt of the firmness of the promise, is the natural\nproduct of the long time of apparent delay which the Church has had\nto encounter. It will cloud and depress the religion of later ages,\nunless there be constant effort to resist the tendency and to keep\nawake. The first generations were all aflame with the glad hope\n'Maranatha'--'The Lord is at hand.' Their successors gradually lost\nthat keenness of expectation, and at most cried, 'Will not He come\nsoon?' Their successors saw the starry hope through thickening mists\nof years; and now it scarcely shines for many, or at least is but a\ndim point, when it should blaze as a sun.\n\nHe was an 'evil' servant who said so in his heart. He was evil\nbecause he said it, and he said it because he was evil; for the\nyielding to sin and the withdrawal of love from Jesus dim the desire\nfor His coming, and make the whisper that He delays, a hope; while,\non the other hand, the hope that He delays helps to open the\nsluices, and let sin flood the life. So an outburst of cruel\nmasterfulness and of riotous sensuality is the consequence of the\ndimmed expectation. There would have been no usurpation of authority\nover Christ's heritage by priest or pope, or any other, if that hope\nhad not become faint. If professing Christians lived with the great\nwhite throne and the heavens and earth fleeing away before Him that\nsits on it, ever burning before their inward eye, how could they\nwallow amid the mire of animal indulgence? The corruptions of the\nChurch, especially of its official members, are traced with sad and\nprescient hand in these foreboding words, which are none the less a\nprophecy because cast by His forbearing gentleness into the milder\nform of a supposition.\n\nThe dreadful doom of the unwatchful servant is couched in terms of\nawful severity. The cruel punishment of sawing asunder, which,\ntradition says, was suffered by Isaiah and was not unfamiliar in old\ntimes, is his. What concealed terror of retribution it signifies we\ndo not know. Perhaps it points to a fate in which a man shall be, as\nit were, parted into two, each at enmity with the other. Perhaps it\nimplies a retribution in kind for his sin, which consisted, as the\nnext clause implies, in hypocrisy, which is the sundering in twain\nof inward conviction and practice, and is to be avenged by a like\nbut worse rending apart of conscience and will. At all events, it\nshadows a fearful retribution, which is not extinction, inasmuch as,\nin the next clause, we read that his portion--his lot, or that\ncondition which belongs to him by virtue of his character--is with\n'the hypocrites.' He was one of them, because, while he said 'my\nlord,' he had ceased to love and obey, having ceased to desire and\nexpect; and therefore whatever is their fate shall be his, even to\nthe 'dividing asunder of soul and spirit,' and setting eternal\ndiscord among the thoughts and intents of the heart. That is not the\npunishment of unwatchfulness, but of what unwatchfulness leads to,\nif unawakened. Let these words of the King ring an alarum for us\nall, and rouse our sleepy souls to watch, as becomes the children of\nthe day.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WAITING MAIDENS\n\n\n    'Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten\n    virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet\n    the bridegroom. 2. And five of them were wise, and five\n    were foolish. 3. They that were foolish took their\n    lamps, and took no oil with them: 4. But the wise took\n    oil in their vessels with their lamps. 5. While the\n    bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. 6. And\n    at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom\n    cometh; go ye out to meet him. 7. Then all those virgins\n    arose, and trimmed their lamps. 8. And the foolish said\n    unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are\n    gone out. 9. But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest\n    there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to\n    them that sell, and buy for yourselves. 10. And while\n    they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that\n    were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the\n    door was shut. 11 Afterward came also the other virgins,\n    saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. 12. But he answered and\n    said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not. 13. Watch\n    therefore; for ye know neither the day nor the hour\n    wherein the Son of Man cometh.'--MATT. xxv. 1-13.\n\nWe shall best understand this beautiful but difficult parable if we\nlook on to its close. Our Lord appends to it the refrain of all this\ncontext, the exhortation to watch, based upon our ignorance of the\ntime of His coming. But as in the former little parable of the wise\nservant it was his faithful, wise dispensing of his lord's goods,\nand not his watchfulness, which was the point of the eulogium passed\non him, so here it is the readiness of the wise virgins to take\ntheir places in the wedding march which is commended. That readiness\nconsists in their having their lamps burning and their oil in store.\nThis, then, is the main thing in the parable. It is an exhibition,\nunder another aspect, of what constitutes fitness for entrance into\nthe festal chamber of the bridegroom, which had just been set forth\nas consisting in faithful stewardship. Here it is presented as being\nthe possession of lamp and oil.\n\nI. The first consideration, then, must be, What is the meaning of\nthese emblems? A great deal of fine-spun ingenuity has been expended\non subordinate points in the parable, such as the significance of\nthe number of maidens, the conclusions from the equal division into\nwise and foolish, the place from which they came to meet the\nbridegroom, the point in the marriage procession where they are\nsupposed to join it, whether it was at going to fetch the bride, or\nat coming back with her; whether the feast is held in her house, or\nin his, and so on. But all these are unimportant questions, and as\nChrist has left them in the background, we only destroy the\nperspective by dragging them into the front. In no parable is it\nmore important than in this to restrain the temptation to run out\nanalogies into their last results. The remembrance that the virgins,\nas the emblem of the whole body of the visible Church, are the same\nas the bride, who does not appear in the parable, might warn against\nsuch an error. They were ten, as being the usual number for such a\ncompany, or as being the round number naturally employed when\ndefiniteness was not sought. They were divided equally, not because\nour Lord desired to tell, but because He wished to leave unnoticed,\nthe numerical proportion of the two classes. One set are 'wise' and\nthe other 'foolish,' because He wishes to show not only the sin, but\nthe absurdity, of unreadiness, and to teach us that true wisdom is\nnot of the head only, but far more of the heart. The conduct of the\ntwo groups of maidens is looked at from the prudent and common-sense\nstandpoint, and the provident action of the one sets in relief the\nreckless stupidity of the other.\n\nThere have been many opinions as to the meaning of the lamps and the\noil, which it is needless to repeat. Surely the analogy of\nscriptural symbolism is our best guide. If we follow it, we get a\nmeaning which perfectly suits the emblems and the whole parable. In\nthe Sermon on the Mount, our Lord uses the same figure of the lamp,\nand explains it: 'Let your light shine before men, that they may see\nyour good works.'\n\nII. Note the sleep of all the virgins. No blame is hinted on account\nof it. It is not inconsistent with the wisdom of the wise, nor does\nit interfere with their readiness to meet the bridegroom. It is,\nthen, such a sleep as is compatible with watching. Our Lord's\nintroduction of this point is an example of His merciful allowance\nfor our weakness. There must be a certain slackening of the tension\nof expectation when the bridegroom tarries. Centuries of delay\ncannot but modify the attitude of the waiting Church, and Jesus here\nimplies that there will be a long stretch of time before His advent,\nduring which all His people will feel the natural effect of the\ndeferring of hope. But the sleep which He permits, unblamed, is\nlight, and such as one takes by snatches when waiting to be called.\nHe does not ask us always to be on tiptoe of expectation, nor to\nrefuse the teaching of experience; but counts that we have watched\naright, if we wake from our light slumbers when the cry is heard,\nand have our lamps lit, ready for the procession.\n\nIII. Then comes the midnight cry and the waking of the maidens. The\nhour, 'of night's black arch the keystone,' suggests the unexpectedness\nof His coming; the loudness of the cry, its all-awaking effect; the\nbroken words of the true reading, 'Behold the bridegroom!' the\ncloseness on the heels of the heralds with which the procession\nflashes through the darkness. The virgins had 'gone forth to meet him'\nat the beginning of the parable, but the going forth to which they are\nnow summoned is not the same. The Christian soul goes forth once when,\nat the beginning of its Christian life, it forsakes the world to wait\nfor and on Christ, and again, when it leaves the world to pass with\nHim into the banquet. Life is the slumber from which some are awaked\nby the voice of death, and some who 'remain' shall be awaked by the\ntrumpet of judgment. There is no interval between the cry and the\nappearance of the bridegroom; only a moment to rouse themselves, to\nlook to their lamps, and to speak the hurried words of the foolish\nand the answer of the wise, and then the procession is upon them. It\nis all done as in a flash, 'in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye.'\nThis impression of swiftness, which leaves no time for delayed\npreparation, is the uniform impression conveyed by all the Scripture\nreferences to the coming of the Lord. The swoop of the eagle, the\nfierce blaze of lightning from one side of the sky to the other, the\nbursting of the flood, that morning's work at Sodom, not begun till\ndawn and finished before the 'sun was risen on the earth,' are its\ntypes. Foolish indeed to postpone preparation till that moment when\ncry and coming are simultaneous, like lightning and thunder right\noverhead!\n\nThe foolish virgins' imploring request and its answer are not to be\npressed, as if they meant more than to set forth the hopelessness of\nthen attempting to procure the wanting oil, and especially the\nhopelessness of attempting to get it from one's fellows. There is a\nworld of suppressed terror and surprise in that cry, 'Our lamps are\ngoing out.' Note that they burned till the bridegroom came, and\nthen, like the magic lamps in old legends, at his approach shivered\ninto darkness. Is not that true of the formal, outward religion,\nwhich survives everything but contact with His all-seeing eye and\nperfect judgment? These foolish maidens were as much astonished as\nalarmed at seeing their lights flicker down to extinction; and it is\npossible for professing Christians to live a lifetime, and never to\nbe found out either by themselves or by anybody else. But if there\nhas been no oil in the lamp, it will be quenched when He appears.\nThe atmosphere that surrounds His throne acts like oxygen on the\noil-fed flame, and like carbonic acid gas on the other.\n\nThe answer of the wise is not selfishness. It is not from our\nfellows, however bright their lamps, that we can ever get that\ninward grace. None of them has more than suffices for his own needs,\nnor can any give it to another. It may be bought, on the same terms\nas the pearl of great price was bought, 'without money'; but the\nmarket is closed, as on a holiday, on the day of the king's son's\nmarriage. That is not touched upon here, except in so far as it is\nhinted at in the absence of the foolish when he enters the\nbanqueting chamber, and in their fruitless prayer. They had no time\nto get the oil before he came, and they had not got it when they\nreturned. The lesson is plain. We can only get the new life of the\nSpirit, which will make our lives a light, from God; and we can get\nit now, not then.\n\nIV. We see the wise virgins within and the foolish without. They\nare, indeed, no longer designated by these adjectives, but as\n'ready' and 'the others'; for preparedness is fitness, and they who\nare found of Him in possession of the outward righteousness and of\nits inward source, His own divine life in them, are prepared. To\nsuch the gates of the festal chamber fly open. In that day, place is\nthe outcome of character, and it is equally impossible for the\n'ready' to be shut out, and for 'the others' to go in.\n\n'When the bridegroom with his feastful friends passes to bliss at\nthe mid hour of night,' they who have 'filled their odorous lamps\nwith deeds of light' have surely 'gained their entrance.' There is\nsilence as to the unspeakable joys of the wedding feast. Some faint\nsounds of music and dancing, some gleams from the lighted windows,\nfind their way out; but the closed door keeps its secret, and only\nthe guests know the gladness.\n\nThat closed door means security, perpetuity, untold blessedness, but\nit means exclusion too. The piteous reiterated call of the shut-out\nmaidens, roused too late, and so suddenly, from songs and laughter\nto vain cries, evokes a stern answer, through which shines the awful\nreality veiled in the parable. We do not need to regard the prayer\nfor entrance, and its refusal, as conveying more than the\nfruitlessness of wishes for entrance then, when unaccompanied with\nfitness to enter. Such desire as is expressed in this passionate\nbeating at the closed door, with hoarse entreaties, is not fitness.\nIf it were, the door would open; and the reason why it does not lies\nin the bridegroom's awful answer, 'I know you not.' The absence of\nthe qualification prevents his recognising them as his. Surely the\nunalleviated darkness of a hopeless exclusion settles down on these\nsad five, standing, huddled together, at the door, with the\nextinguished lamps hanging in their despairing hands. 'Too late, too\nlate, ye cannot enter now.' The wedding bell has become a funeral\nknell. They were not the enemies of the bridegroom, they thought\nthemselves his friends. They let life ebb without securing the one\nthing needful, and the neglect was irremediable. There is a tragedy\nunderlying many a life of outward religiousness and inward\nemptiness, and a dreadful discovery will flare in upon such, when\nthey have to say to themselves,\n\n  'This might have been once,\n   And we missed it, lost it for ever.'\n\n\n\n\nDYING LAMPS\n\n\n    'Our lamps are gone out.'--MATT. xxv. 8.\n\nThis is one of the many cases in which the Revised Version, by\naccuracy of rendering the tense of a verb, gives a much more\nstriking as well as correct reproduction of the original than the\nAuthorised Version does. The former reads 'going out,' instead of\n'gone out,' a rendering which the Old Version has, unfortunately,\nrelegated to the margin. It is clearly to be preferred, not only\nbecause it more correctly represents the Greek, but because it sets\nbefore us a more solemn and impressive picture of the precise time\nat which the terrible discovery was made by the foolish five. They\nwoke from their sleep, and hastily trimmed their lamps. These burned\nbrightly for a moment, and then began to flicker and die down. The\nextinction of their light was not the act of a moment, but was a\ngradual process, which had advanced in some degree before it\nattracted the attention of the bearers of the lamps. At last it\nroused the half-sleeping five into startled, wide-awake\nconsciousness. There is a tone of alarm and fear in their sudden\nexclamation, 'Our lamps are going out.' They see now the catastrophe\nthat threatens, and understand that the only means of averting it is\nto replenish the empty oil-vessels before the flame has quite\nexpired. But their knowledge and their dread were alike too late,\nand, as they went on their hopeless search for some one to give them\nwhat they once might have had in abundance, the last faint flicker\nceased, and they had to grope their way in the dark, with their\nlightless lamps hanging useless in their slack hands, while far off\nthe torches of the bridal procession, in which they might have had a\npart, flashed through the night. We have nothing to do with the\ntragical issue of the process of extinction; but solemn lessons of\nuniversal application gather round the picture of that process, as\nrepresented in our text, and to these we turn now.\n\nI. We must settle the meaning of the oil and the lamps.\n\nThe Old Testament symbolism is our best guide as to the significance\nof the oil. Throughout it, oil symbolises the divine influences that\ncome down on men appointed by God to their several functions, and\nwhich are there traced to the Spirit of the Lord. So the priests\nwere set apart by unction with the holy oil; so Samuel poured oil on\nthe black locks of Saul. So, too, the very name Messiah means\n'anointed,' and the great prophecy, which Jesus claimed for His own\nin His first sermon in the synagogue at Nazareth, put into the\nMessiah's lips the declaration, 'The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me,\nbecause He hath anointed Me.' But there are Old Testament symbols\nwhich bear still more closely on the emblems of our text. Zechariah\nsaw in vision a golden lamp-stand with seven lamps, and on either\nside of it an olive tree, from which oil flowed through golden pipes\nto feed the flame. The interpretation of the vision was given by the\n'angel that talked with' the prophet as being, 'not by might nor by\npower, but by My Spirit, saith the Lord.'\n\nSo, then, we follow the plainly marked road and Scripture use of a\nsymbol when we take the oil in this parable to be that which every\nlistener to Jesus, who was instructed in the old things which he was\nbringing forth with new emphasis from the ancient treasure-house of\nthe word of God, would take it to be--namely, the sum of the\ninfluences from Heaven which were bestowed through the Spirit of the\nLord.\n\nSuch being the meaning of the oil, what was meant by the lamp? We\nhave no intention of discussing here the many varying interpretations\nwhich have been given to the symbol. To do so would lead us too far\nafield. We can only say that the interpretation of the oil as the\ninfluence of the Holy Spirit necessarily involves the explanation of\nthe lamp which is fed by it, as being the spiritual life of the\nindividual, which is nourished and made visible to the world as light,\nby the continual communication from God of these hallowing influences.\nTurning again to the Old Testament, I need only remind you of the\ngreat seven-branched lamp which stood in the Tabernacle, and afterwards\nin the Temple. It was the symbol of the collective Israel, as recipient\nof divine influences, and thereby made the light of a dark world. Its\nrays streamed out over the desert first, and afterwards shone from\nthe mountain of the Lord's house, beaming illumination and invitation\nto those who sat in darkness to behold the great light, and to walk\nin the light of the Lord. Zechariah's emblem was based on the Temple\nlamp. In accordance with the greater prominence given by the Old\nTestament to national than to individual religion, both of these\nrepresented the people as a whole. In accordance with the more\nadvanced individualism of the New Testament, our text so far varies\nthe application of the emblem, that each of the ten virgins who, as\na whole, stand for the collective professing Church, has her own\nlamp. But that is the only difference between the Old and the New\nTestament uses of the symbol.\n\nI need not remind you how the same metaphor recurs frequently in the\nteachings of our Lord and of the Apostles. Sometimes the Old\nTestament collective point of view is maintained, as in our Lord's\nsaying in the Sermon on the Mount, 'Ye are the light of the world,'\nbut more frequently, the characteristic individualising of the\nfigure prevails, and we read of Christians shining 'as lights in the\nworld,' and each holding forth, as a lamp does its light, 'the word\nof life.' Nor must we forget the climax of the uses of this emblem,\nin the vision of the Apocalypse, where John once more saw the Lord,\non whose bosom his head had so often peacefully lain, 'walking in\nthe midst of the seven golden candlesticks.' There, again, the\ncollective rather than the individual bearing of the figure is\nprominent, but with significant differences from the older use of\nit. In Judaism there was a formal, outward unity, represented by the\none lamp with its manifold lights, all welded together on the golden\nstem; but the churches of Asia Minor were distinct organisations,\nand their oneness came, not from outward union of a mechanical kind,\nbut from the presence in their midst of the Son of God.\n\nThe sum of all this course of thought is that the lamp is the\nChristian life of the individual sustained by the communication of\nthe influences of God's Holy Spirit.\n\nII. We note next the gradual dying out of the light. 'Our lamps are\ngoing out.'\n\nAll spiritual emotions and vitality, like every other kind of\nemotion and vitality, die unless nourished. Let no theological\ndifficulties about 'the final perseverance of the saints,' or 'the\nindefeasibleness of grace,' and the impossibility of slaying the\ndivine life that has once been given to a man, come in the way of\nletting this parable have its full, solemn weight. These foolish\nvirgins had oil and had light, the oil failed by their fault, and so\nthe light went out, and they were startled, when they awoke from\ntheir slumber, to see how, instead of brilliant flame, there was\nsmoking wick.\n\nDear brethren, let us take the lesson. There is nothing in our\nreligious emotions which has any guarantee of perpetuity in it,\nexcept upon certain conditions. We may live, and our life may ebb. We\nmay trust, and our trust may tremble into unbelief. We may obey, and\nour obedience may be broken by the mutinous risings of self-will. We\nmay walk in the 'paths of righteousness,' and our feet may falter\nand turn aside. There is certainty of the dying out of all communicated\nlife, unless the channel of communication with the life from which it\nwas first kindled, be kept constantly clear. The lamp may be 'a burning\nand a shining light,' or, more accurately translating the phrase of\nour Lord, 'a light kindled and' (therefore) 'shining,' but it will be\nlight 'for a season' only, unless it is fed from that from which it\nwas first set alight; and that is from God Himself.\n\n'Our lamps are going out,'--a slow process that! The flame does not\nall die into darkness in a minute. There are stages in its death.\nThe white portion of the flame becomes smaller and the blue part\nextends; then the flame flickers, and finally shudders itself, as it\nwere, off the wick; then nothing remains but a charred red line\nalong the top; then that line breaks up into little points, and one\nafter another these twinkle out, and then all is black, and the lamp\nis gone out. And so, slowly, like the ebbing away of the tide, like\nthe reluctant, long-protracted dying of summer days, like the\ndropping of the blood from some fatal wound, by degrees the process\nof extinction creeps, creeps, creeps on, and the lamp that was going\nis finally gone out.\n\nIII. Again, we note that extinction is brought about simply by doing\nnothing.\n\nThese five foolish virgins did not stray away into any forbidden\npaths. No positive sin is alleged against them. They were simply\nasleep. The other five were asleep too. I do not need to enter, here\nand now, into the whole interpretation of the parable, or there\nmight be much to say about the difference between these two kinds of\nsleep. But what I wish to notice is that it was nothing except\nnegligence darkening into drowsiness, which caused the dying out of\nthe light.\n\nIt was not of set purpose that the foolish five took no oil with\nthem. They merely neglected to do so, not having the wit to look\nahead and provide against the contingency of a long time of waiting\nfor the bridegroom. Their negligence was the result, not of\ndeliberate wish to let their lights go out, but of their\nheedlessness; and because of that negligence they earned the name of\n'foolish.' If we do not look forward, and prepare for possible\ndrains on our powers, we shall deserve the same adjective. If we do\nnot lay in stores for future use, we may be sent to school to the\nharvesting ant and the bee. That lesson applies to all departments\nof life; but it is eminently applicable to the spiritual life, which\nis sustained only by communications from the Spirit of God. For\nthese communications will be imperceptibly lessened, and may be\naltogether intercepted, unless diligent attention is given to keep\nopen the channels by which they enter the spirit. If the pipes are\nnot looked to, they will be choked by masses of matted trifles,\nthrough which the 'rivers of living water,' which Christ took as a\nsymbol of the Spirit's influences, cannot force a way.\n\nThe thing that makes shipwreck of the faith of most professing\nChristians that do come to grief is no positive wickedness, no\nconduct which would be branded as sin by the Christian conscience or\neven by ordinary people, but simply torpor. If the water in a pond\nis never stirred, it is sure to stagnate, and green scum to spread\nover it, and a foul smell to rise from it. A Christian man has only\nto do what I am afraid a good many of us are in great danger of\ndoing--that is, nothing--in order to ensure that his lamp shall go\nout.\n\nDo you try to keep yours alight? There is only one way to do it--that\nis to go to Christ and get Him to pour His sweetness and His power\ninto our open hearts. When one of the old patriarchs had committed a\ngreat sin, and had unbelievingly twitched his hand out of God's hand,\nand gone away down into Egypt to help himself instead of trusting to\nGod, he was commanded, on his return to Palestine, to go to the place\nwhere he dwelt at the first, and begin again, at the point where he\nbegan when he first entered the land. Which being translated is just\nthis--the only way to keep our spirits vital and quick is by having\nrecourse, again and again, to the same power which first imparted\nlife to them, and this is done by the first means, the means of simple\n reliance upon Christ in the consciousness of our own deep need, and\nof believingly waiting upon Him for the repeated communication of the\ngifts which we, alas! have so often misimproved. Negligence is enough\nto slay. Doing nothing is the sure way to quench the Holy Spirit.\n\nAnd, on the other hand, keeping close to Him is the sure way to\nsecure that He will never leave us. You can choke a lamp with oil,\nbut you cannot have in your hearts too much of that divine grace.\nAnd you receive all that you need if you choose to go and ask it\nfrom Him. Remember the old story about Elisha and the poor woman.\nThe cruse of oil began to run. She brought all the vessels that she\ncould rake together, big and little, pots and cups, of all shapes\nand sizes, and set them, one after the other, under the jet of oil.\nThey were all filled; and when she brought no more vessels the oil\nstayed. If you do not take your empty hearts to God, and say, 'Here,\nLord, fill this cup too; poor as it is, fill it with Thine own\ngracious influences,' be very sure that no such influences will come\nto you. But if you do go, be as sure of this, that so long as you\nhold out your emptiness to Him, He will flood it with His fulness,\nand the light that seemed to be sputtering to its death will flame\nup again. He will not quench the smoking wick, if only we carry it\nto Him; but as the priests in the Temple walked all through the\nnight to trim the golden lamps, so He who walks amidst the seven\ncandlesticks will see to each.\n\nIV. And now one last word. That process of gradual extinction may be\ngoing on, and may have been going on for a long while, and the\nvirgin that carries the lamp be quite unaware of it.\n\nHow could a sleeping woman know whether her lamp was burning or not?\nHow can a drowsy Christian tell whether his spiritual life is bright\nor not? To be unconscious of our approximation to this condition is,\nI am afraid, one of the surest signs that we are in it. I suppose\nthat a paralysed limb is quite comfortable. At any rate, paralysis\nof the spirit may be going on without our knowing anything about it.\nSo, dear friends, do not put these poor words of mine away from you\nand say, 'Oh! they do not apply to me.'\n\nI am quite sure that the people to whom they do apply will be the\nlast people to take them to themselves. And while I quite believe,\nthank God! that there are many of us who may feel and know that our\nlamps are not going out, sure I am that there are some of us whom\neverybody but themselves knows to be carrying a lamp that is so far\ngone out that it is smoking and stinking in the eyes and noses of\nthe people that stand by. Be sure that nobody was more surprised\nthan were the five foolish women when they opened their witless,\nsleepy eyes, and saw the state of things. So, dear friends, 'let\nyour loins be girt about, and your lamps burning; and ye yourselves\nlike unto men that wait for their Lord.'\n\n\n\n\n'THEY THAT WERE READY'\n\n\n    'They that were ready went in with him to the marriage.'\n    --MATT. xxv. 10.\n\nIt is interesting to notice the variety of aspects in which, in this\nlong discourse, Jesus sets forth His Second Coming. It is like the\nflood that swept away a world. It is like a thief stealing through\nthe dark, and breaking up a house. It is like a master reckoning\nwith his servants. These three metaphors suggest solemn, one might\nalmost say alarming, images. But then this parable comes in and\ntells how that coming is like that of a bridegroom to the bride's\nhouse, with joy and music. I am afraid that the average Christian,\nwhen he thinks at all of Christ's coming, takes these three first\naspects rather than the last one, and so loses what is meant to be a\nbright hope and a great stimulus. It is not in human nature to think\nmuch about a terrible future. It is not in human nature to avoid\nthinking a great deal about a blessed future. And although one does\nnot wish to preach carelessness, or the ignoring of the solemn side\nof that coming, sure I am that our Christian lives would be stronger\nand purer, brighter and better able to front the solemn side, if the\nblessed side of it were more often the object of our contemplation.\n\nTurning to the words of my text, which seem to me to be the very\ncentre and heart of this parable, I ask:--\n\nI. What makes readiness?\n\nThere have been many answers given to that question. One has been\nthat to be ready means to be perpetually having before us the\nthought of the coming of the Lord, and that has been taken to be the\nmeaning of the watchfulness which is enjoined in the context. But\nthe parable itself points in an altogether different direction. Who,\naccording to it, were ready? The five who had lamps and oil. To have\nthese was readiness.\n\nIt is beautiful to notice how these five who _were_ ready when\nthe Master came had 'slumbered and slept' like the other five. Ah!\nthat touch in the picture shows that 'He knoweth our frame; He\nremembereth that we are dust.' It is not in human nature to keep up\npermanently a tension of expectation for a far-off good; and in\nprofound knowledge of the weakness of humanity, our Lord, in this\nparable, says: 'While the Bridegroom tarried they _all_ slumbered'--and\nyet the five were ready when the Bridegroom came. In like manner,\nChristian men and women who have no expectation at all that the\nSecond Coming of the Lord will occur during their lifetimes, may\nnevertheless be ready, if they have the burning lamps and the store\nof oil. The question then comes to be, What is meant by these?\n\nPerhaps harm has been done by insisting upon too minute and specific\ninterpretation. But, at the same time, we must not forget that, from\nthe very beginning of the Jewish Revelation, from the time when the\nseven-branched candlestick was appointed for the Tabernacle, right\ndown to the day when the Apocalyptic Seer saw in Patmos the Son of\nMan walking in the midst of the seven golden candlesticks, the\nmetaphor has had one meaning. The aggregate of God's people are\nintended to be, as Jesus told us immediately after He had drawn the\ncharacter of a true disciple, in the wonderful outlines of the\nBeatitudes, 'the light of the world,' and they will be so in the\nmeasure in which the gentle radiance of that character shines\nthrough their lives, as the light of a lamp through frosted glass.\nBut the aggregate is made up of units, and individual Christians are\nto shine 'as lights in the world,' and their separate brightnesses\nare to coalesce in the clustered light of the whole Church. What\nmakes an individual Christian a light is a Christ-like life, derived\nfrom that Life which was 'the Light of men.' The lamp which the five\nwise virgins bear is the same as the light which the consistent\nChristian is. The inner self illuminated from Christ, the source of\nall our illumination, lights up the outward life, which each of us\nmay be conceived as carrying in our hands. It is not ourselves, and\nyet it is ourselves made visible. It is not ourselves, but Christ in\nus; and so we shine as lights in the world, only by 'holding forth\nthe word of life.'\n\nThat modification of the figure by Paul is profoundly true and\nimportant, for after all we are not so much lights as candelabra,\nand only as we bear aloft the flashing light of Christ shall we\nshine 'in a naughty world.' Our lamps, then, are Christ-like\ncharacters derived from Christ, and to have and bear these is the\nfirst element in being ready for the Bridegroom.\n\nDear friends, remember that this whole parable is spoken to\nprofessing Christians and real members of Christ's Church; and that\nthere is no meaning in it unless it is possible to quench the light\nof the lamp. Remember that our Lord said once, 'Let your loins be\ngirt,' and put that as the necessary condition of lamps burning.\n'Let your loins be girt' with resolved effort of faith and\ndependence, and make sure that you have the provision for the\ncontinuance of the light. So, and only so, shall any man be of the\nhappy company of them that were ready.\n\nII. Note that this readiness is the condition of entrance.\n\n'They that were ready went in with Him to the marriage.' Now faith\nalone unites a man to Jesus Christ, and makes him an heir of\nsalvation. But faith alone, if that were possible, would not admit a\nman to the marriage-feast. Of course the supposed case is an\nimpossible case, for as James has taught us in his plain moral way,\nfaith which is alone dies, or perhaps never lived. But what our Lord\ntells us here is that moral character, which is of such a sort as to\nshine in the world's darkness, is the condition of entrance. People\nsay that salvation is by faith. Yes, that is true; but salvation is\nby works also, only that the works are made possible through faith.\nIn the very necessity and nature of things nothing but the readiness\nwhich consists in continued Christ-like character will ever allow a\nman to pass the threshold. Now do you believe that? Or are you\nsaying, 'I trust to Jesus Christ, and so I am sure I shall go to\nHeaven.' No, you will not, unless your faith is making you heavenly,\nin your temper and conduct. For to talk about the next world as a\nplace of retribution is but an imperfect statement of the case. It\nis not a place of retribution so much as of outcome, and the apostle\ngives a completer view when he says, 'Whatsoever a man soweth, that\nshall he also reap.' That future life is not the reward of goodness\nso much as the necessary consequence of holiness. Holiness and\nblessedness are, in some measure, separated here; there they are two\nnames for the one condition. 'No man shall see the Lord,' without\nthat holiness. 'They that were ready went in.' Of course they did.\nAm I ready? That question means, Am I, by my faith in Jesus Christ,\nreceiving into my heart the anointing which that great anointed One\ngives us? Am I living a life that is a light in the world? If so,\nand not else, my entrance is sure.\n\nWe have seen what this readiness consists in, and how it is the\ncondition of entrance. There is one last thought--\n\nIII. To delay preparation is madness.\n\nThere is nothing in all Christ's parables more tragical,  more\npathetic, than this picture of the hapless five  when they woke up\nto find their lamps going out.  They heard the procession coming,\nthe sound of feet drawing nearer, and the music borne every moment\nmore loudly on the midnight air. And there were they, with dying\nlamps and empty oil-cans. Their shock, their alarm, their\nbewilderment, are all expressed in that preposterous request of\ntheirs, Give us of your oil.'\n\nThe answer of the wise virgins has been said to be cold and\nunfeeling. It is not that; it is simply a plain statement of facts.\nThe oil that belongs to me cannot be given to you. That is the first\nlesson taught us by the request of the foolish and the answer of the\nwise. 'If thou be wise, thou shalt be wise for thyself; and if thou\nscornest, thou alone shalt bear it.' 'Every man shall bear his own\nburden.' There is no possible transference of moral character or\nspiritual gifts in that fashion. The awful individuality of each\nsoul, and its unshareable personal responsibility, come solemnly to\nview in the words which superficial readers pass by: 'Not so, lest\nthere be not enough for us and you.' You cannot share your brother's\noil. You may share many of his possessions; not this.\n\n'Go to them that sell, and buy for yourselves.' The question of\nwhether there was time to buy was not for the five wise to answer.\nThere was not much chance that the would-be buyers would find a shop\nopen and anybody waiting to sell them oil at twelve o'clock at\nnight. But they risked it; and when they came back they were too\nlate.\n\nNow, dear friends, all the lessons of this parable may be taken by\nus, though we do not believe, and think we have good reason for not\nbelieving, that the literal return of Jesus Christ is to take place\nin our time. It does not matter very much, in so far as the teaching\nof this parable is concerned, whether the Bridegroom comes to us, or\nwhether we go to the Bridegroom. I do not for a moment say that\nthere is no such thing as coming to Jesus Christ in the last hours\nof life, and becoming ready to enter even then, but I do say that it\nis a very rare case, and that there is a terrible risk in delaying\ntill then. But I pray you to remember that our parable is addressed\nto, and contemplates the case of, not people who are away from Jesus\nChrist, but Christians, and that it is to them that its message is\nchiefly brought. It is they whom it warns not to put off making sure\nthat they have provision for the continuance of the Christ-life. We\nhave, day by day, to go to Him that sells and 'buy for ourselves.'\nAnd we know, what it did not fall within our Lord's purpose to say\nin this parable, that the price of the oil is the surrender of\nourselves, and the opening of our hearts to the entrance of that\ndivine Spirit. Then there will be no fear but that the lamp will\nhold out to burn, and no fear but that 'when the Bridegroom, with\nHis feastful friends, passes to bliss, at the mid-hour of night,' we\nshall gain our entrance.\n\n\n\n\nTRADERS FOR THE MASTER\n\n\n    'For the kingdom of heaven la as a man travelling into a\n    far country, who called his own servants, and delivered\n    unto them his goods. 15. And unto one he gave five\n    talents, to another two, and to another one; to every\n    man according to his several ability; and straightway\n    took his journey. 16. Then he that had received the five\n    talents went and traded with the same, and made them\n    other five talents. 17. And likewise he that had received\n    two, he also gained other two. 18. But he that had\n    received one went and digged in the earth, and hid his\n    lord's money. 19. After a long time the lord of those\n    servants cometh, and reckoneth with them. 20. And so he\n    that had received five talents came and brought other\n    five talents, saying, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me\n    five talents: behold, I have gained beside them five\n    talents more. 21. His lord said unto him, Well done,\n    thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful\n    over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many\n    things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord. 22. He also\n    that had received two talents came and said, Lord, thou\n    deliveredst unto me two talents: behold, I have gained\n    two other talents beside them. 23. His lord said unto\n    him, Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast\n    been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler\n    over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.\n    24. Then to which had received the one talent came and\n    said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man,\n    reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where\n    thou hast not strawed: 25. And I was afraid, and went\n    and hid thy talent in the earth: lo, there thou hast\n    that is thine. 26. His lord answered and said unto him,\n    Thou wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest that I\n    reap where I sowed not, and gather where I have not\n    strawed: 27. Thou oughtest therefore to have put my\n    money to the exchangers, and then at my coming I should\n    have received mine own with usury. 28. Take therefore\n    the talent from him, and give it unto him which hath ten\n    talents. 29. For unto every one that hath shall be given,\n    and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not\n    shall be taken away even that which he hath. 30. And\n    cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness:\n    there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.'\n    --MATT. xxv. 14-30.\n\nThe parable of the Ten Virgins said nothing about their working\nwhilst they waited. This one sets forth that side of the duties of\nthe servants in their master's absence, and so completes the former.\nIt is clearly in its true historical connection here, and is closely\nknit to both the preceding and following context. It is a strange\ninstance of superficial reading that it should ever have been\nsupposed to be but another version of Luke's parable of the pounds.\nThe very resemblances of the two are meant to give force to their\ndifferences, which are fundamental. They are the converse of each\nother. That of the pounds teaches that men who have the same gifts\nintrusted to them may make a widely different use of these, and will\nbe rewarded differently, in strictly graduated proportion to their\nunlike diligence. The lesson of the parable before us, on the other\nhand, is that men with dissimilar gifts may employ them with equal\ndiligence; and that, if they do, their reward shall be the same,\nhowever great the endowments of one, and slender those of another. A\nreader who has missed that distinction must be very shortsighted, or\nsworn to make out a case against the Gospels.\n\nI. We may consider the lent capital and the business done with it.\n\nMasters nowadays do not give servants their money to trade with,\nwhen they leave home; but the incident is true to the old-world\nrelations of master and slave. Our Lord's consciousness of His near\ndeparture, which throbs in all this context, comes out emphatically\nhere. He is preparing His disciples for the time when they will have\nto work without Him, like the managers of some branch house of\nbusiness whose principal has gone abroad. What are the 'talents'\nwith which He will start them on their own account? We have taken\nthe word into common language, however little we remember the\nteaching of the parable as to the hand that gives 'men of talent'\ntheir endowments. But the natural powers usually called by the name\nare not what Christ means here, though the principles of the parable\nmay be extended to include them. For these powers are the 'ability'\naccording to which the talents are given. But the talents themselves\nare the spiritual knowledge and endowments which are properly the\ngifts of the ascended Lord to His Church. Two important lessons as\nto these are conveyed. First, that they are distributed in varying\nmeasure, and that not arbitrarily, by the mere will of the giver,\nbut according to his discernment of what each servant can profitably\nadminister. The 'ability' which settles their amount is not more\nclosely defined. It may include natural faculty, for Christ's gifts\nusually follow the line of that; and the larger the nature, the more\nof Him it can contain. But it also includes spiritual receptiveness\nand faithfulness, which increase the absorbing power. The capacity\nto receive will also be the capacity to administer, and it will be\nfully filled.\n\nThe second lesson taught is that spiritual gifts are given for\ntrading with. In other words, they are here considered not so much\nas blessings to the possessor as his stock-in-trade, which he can\nemploy for the Master's enrichment. We are all tempted to think of\nthem mostly as given us for our own blessing and joy; and the\nreminder is never unseasonable that a Christian receives nothing for\nhimself alone. God hath shined into our hearts, that we may give to\nothers the light of the knowledge which has flashed glad day into\nour darkness. The Master intrusts us with a portion of His wealth,\nnot for expending on ourselves, but for trading with.\n\nA third principle here is that the right use of His gifts increases\nthem in our hands. 'Money makes money.' The five talents grow to\nten, the two to four. The surest way to increase our possession of\nChrist's grace is to try to impart it. There is no better way of\nstrengthening our own faith than to seek to make others share in it.\nChristian convictions, spoken, are confirmed, but muffled in silence\nare weakened. 'There is that scattereth and yet increaseth.' Seed\nheaped and locked up in a granary breeds weevils and moths; flung\nbroadcast over the furrows, it multiplies into seed that can be sown\nagain, and bread that feeds the sower. So we have in this part of\nthe parable almost the complete summary of the principles on which,\nthe purposes for which, and the results to faithful use with which,\nChrist gives His gifts.\n\nThe conduct of the slenderly endowed servant who hides his talent\nwill be considered farther on.\n\nII. We note the faithful servants' balance-sheet and reward.\n\nOur Lord again sounds the note of delay--'After a long time'--an\nindefinite phrase which we know carries centuries in its folds, how\nmany more we know not nor are intended to know. The two faithful\nservants present their balance-sheet in identical words, and receive\nthe same commendation and reward. Their speech is in sharp contrast\nwith the idle one's excuse, inasmuch as it puts a glad acknowledgment\nof the lord's giving in the forefront, as if to teach that the\nthankful recognition of his liberality underlies all joyful and\nsuccessful service, and deepens while it makes glad the sense of\nresponsibility. The cords of love are silken; and he who begins with\nsetting before himself the largeness of Christ's gifts to him, will\nnot fail in using these so as to increase them. In the light of that\nday, the servant sees more clearly than when he was at work the\nresults of his work. We do not know what the year's profits have\nbeen till stock-taking and balancing-time comes. Here we often say,\n'I have laboured in vain.' There we shall say, 'I have gained five\ntalents.'\n\nThe verbatim repetition of the same words to both servants teaches\nthe great lesson of this parable as contrasted with that of the\npounds, that where there has been the same faithful work, with\ndifferent amounts of capital, there will be the same reward. Our\nMaster does not care about quantity, but about quality and motive.\nThe slave with a few shillings, enough to stock meagrely a little\nstall, may show as much business capacity, diligence, and fidelity,\nas if he had millions to work with. Christ rewards not actions, but\nthe graces which are made visible in actions; and these can be as\nwell seen in the tiniest as in the largest deeds. The light that\nstreams through a pin-prick is the same that pours through the\nwidest window. The crystals of a salt present the same facets,\nflashing back the sun at the same angles, whether they be large or\nmicroscopically small. Therefore the judgment of Christ, which is\nsimply the utterance of fact, takes no heed of the extent but only\nof the kind of service, and puts on the same level of recompense all\nwho, with however widely varying powers, were one in spirit, in\ndiligence, and devotion. The eulogium on the servants is not\n'successful' or 'brilliant,' but 'faithful,' and both alike get it.\n\nThe words of the lord fall into three parts. First comes his\ngenerous and hearty praise,--the brief and emphatic monosyllable\n'Well,' and the characterisation of the servants as 'good and\nfaithful.' Praise from Christ's lips is praise indeed; and here He\npours it out in no grudging or scanty measure, but with warmth and\nevident delight. His heart glows with pleasure, and His commendation\nis musical with the utterance of His own joy in His servants. He\n'rejoices over them with singing'; and more gladly than a fond\nmother speaks honeyed words of approval to her darling, of whose\ngoodness she is proud, does He praise these two. When we are tempted\nto disparage our slender powers as compared with those of His more\nconspicuous servants, and to suppose that all which we do is nought,\nlet us think of this merciful and loving estimate of our poor\nservice. For such words from such lips, life itself were wisely\nflung away; but such words from such lips will be spoken in\nrecognition of many a piece of service less high and heroic than a\nmartyr's. 'Good and faithful' refers not to the more general notion\nof goodness, but to the special excellence of a servant, and the\nlatter word seems to define the former. Fidelity is the grace which\nHe praises,--manifested in the recognition that the capital was a\nloan, given to be traded with for Him, and to be brought back\nincreased to Him. He is faithful who ever keeps in view, and acts\non, the conditions on which, and the purposes for which, he has\nreceived his spiritual wealth; and 'he who is faithful in that which\nis least, is faithful also in much.'\n\nThe second part of the lord's words is the appointment to higher\noffice, as the reward of faithfulness. Here on earth, the tools\ncome, in the long run, to the hands that can use them, and the best\nreward of faithfulness in a narrower sphere is to be lifted to a\nwider. Promotion means more to do; and if the world were rightly\norganised, the road to advancement would be diligence; and the\nhigher a man climbed, the wider would be the horizon of his labour.\nIt is so in Christ's kingdom, and should be so in His visible\nChurch. It will be so in heaven. Clearly this saying implies the\nactive theory of the future life, and the continuance in some\nministry of love, unknown to us, of the energies which were trained\nin the small transactions of earth. 'If five talents are \"a few\nthings,\" how great the \"many things\" will be!' In the parable of the\npounds, the servant is made a ruler; here being 'set over' seems\nrather still to point to the place of a steward or servant. The\nsphere is enlarged, but the office is unaltered. The manager who\nconducted a small trade rightly will be advanced to the\nsuperintendence of a larger business.\n\n  'We doubt not that for one so true\n   There must be other, nobler work to do,'\n\nand that in that work the same law will continue to operate, and\nfaithfulness be crowned with ever-growing capacities and tasks\nthrough a dateless eternity.\n\nThe last words of the lord pass beyond our poor attempts at\ncommenting. No eye can look undazzled at the sun. When Christ was\nnear the Cross, He left His disciples a strange bequest at such a\nmoment,--His joy; and that is their brightest portion here, even\nthough it be shaded with many sorrows. The enthroned Christ welcomes\nall who have known 'the fellowship of His sufferings' into the\nfulness of His heavenly joy, unshaded, unbroken, unspeakable; and\nthey pass into it as into an encompassing atmosphere, or some broad\nland of peace and abundance. Sympathy with His purposes leads to\nsuch oneness with Him that His joy is ours, both in its occasions\nand in its rapture. 'Thou makest them drink of the river of Thy\npleasures,' and the lord and the servant drink from the same cup.\n\nIII. The excuse and punishment of the indolent servant.\n\nHis excuse is his reason. He did think hardly of his lord, and, even\nthough he had His gift in his hand to confute him, he slandered Him\nin his heart as harsh and exacting. To many men the requirements of\nreligion are more prominent than its gifts, and God is thought of as\ndemanding rather than as 'the giving God.' Such thoughts paralyse\naction. Fear is barren, love is fruitful. Nothing grows on the\nmountain of curses, which frowns black over against the sunny slopes\nof the mountain of blessing with its blushing grapes. The indolence\nwas illogical, for, if the master was such as was thought, the more\nreason for diligence; but fear is a bad reasoner, and the absurd gap\nbetween the premises and the conclusion is matched by one of the\nvery same width in every life that thinks of God as rigidly\nrequiring obedience, which, therefore, it does _not_ give!\nStill another error is in the indolent servant's words. He flings\ndown the hoarded talent with 'Lo, thou hast thine own.' He was\nmistaken. Talents hid are not, when dug up, as heavy as they were\nwhen buried. This gold does rust, and a life not devoted to God is\nnever carried back to Him unspoiled.\n\nThe lord's answer again falls into three parts, corresponding to\nthat to the faithful servants. First comes the stern characterisation\nof the man. As with the others' goodness, his badness is defined\nby the second epithet. It is slothfulness. Is that all? Yes; it does\nnot need active opposition to pull down destruction on one's head.\nSimple indolence is enough, the negative sin of not doing or being\nwhat we ought. Ungirt loins, unlit lamps, unused talents, sink a man\nlike lead. Doing nothing is enough for ruin.\n\nThe remarkable answer to the servant's charge seems to teach us that\ntimid souls, conscious of slender endowments, and pressed by the\nheavy sense of responsibility, and shrinking from Christian\nenterprises, for fear of incurring heavier condemnation, may yet\nfind means of using their little capital. The bankers, who invest\nthe collective contributions of small capitalists to advantage, may,\nor may not, be intended to be translated into the Church; but, at\nany rate, the principle of united service is here recommended to\nthose who feel too weak for independent action. Slim houses in a row\nhold each other up; and, if we cannot strike out a path for\nourselves, let us seek strength and safety in numbers.\n\nThe fate of the indolent servant has a double horror. It is loss and\nsuffering. The talent is taken from the slack hands and coward heart\nthat would not use it, and given to the man who had shown he could\nand would. Gifts unemployed for Christ are stripped off a soul\nyonder. How much will go from many a richly endowed spirit, which\nhere flashed with unconsecrated genius and force! We do not need to\nwait for eternity to see that true possession, which is use,\nincreases powers, and that disuse, which is equivalent to not\npossessing, robs of them. The blacksmith's arm, the scout's eye, the\ncraftsman's delicate finger, the student's intellect, the\nsensualist's passions, all illustrate the law on its one side; and\nthe dying out of faculties and tastes, and even of intuitions and\nconscience, by reason of simple disuse, are melancholy instances of\nit on the other. But the solemn words of this condemnation seem to\npoint to a far more awful energy in its working in the future, when\neverything that has not been consecrated by employment for Jesus\nshall be taken away, and the soul, stripped of its garb, shall 'be\nfound naked.' How far that process of divesting may affect\nfaculties, without touching the life, who can tell? Enough to see\nwith awe that a spirit may be cut, as it were, to the quick, and\nstill exist.\n\nBut loss is not all the indolent servant's doom. Once more, like the\nslow toll of a funeral bell, we hear the dread sentence of ejection\nto the 'mirk midnight' without, where are tears undried and passion\nunavailing. There is something very awful in the monotonous\nrepetition of that sentence so often in these last discourses of\nChrist's. The most loving lips that ever spoke, in love, shaped this\nform of words, so heart-touching in its wailing, but decisive,\nproclamation of blackness, homelessness, and sorrow, and cannot but\ntoll them over and over again into our ears, in sad knowledge of our\nforgetfulness and unbelief,--if perchance we may listen and be\nwarned, and, having heard the sound thereof, may never know the\nreality of that death in life which is the sure end of the indolent\nwho were blind to His gifts, and therefore would not listen to His\nrequirements.\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE TALENT WAS BURIED\n\n    'Then he which had received the one talent came and\n    said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man,\n    reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where\n    thou hast not strawed: 25. And I was afraid, and went\n    and hid thy talent in the earth.'-MATT. xxv. 24, 25.\n\nThat was a strangely insolent excuse for indolence. To charge an\nangry master to his face with grasping greed and injustice was\ncertainly not the way to conciliate him. Such language is quite\nunnatural and incongruous until we remember the reality which the\nparable was meant to shadow--viz., the answers for their deeds which\nmen will give at Christ's judgment bar. Then we can understand how,\nby some irresistible necessity, this man was compelled, even at the\nrisk of increasing the indignation of the master, to turn himself\ninside out, and to put into harsh, ugly words the half-conscious\nthoughts which had guided his life and caused his unfaithfulness.\n'Every one of us shall give account of himself to God.' The\nunabashed impudence of such an excuse for idleness as this is but\nputting into vivid and impressive form this truth, that then a man's\nactions in their true character, and the ugly motives that underlie\nthem, and which he did not always honestly confess to himself, will\nbe clear before him. It will be as much of a surprise to the men\nthemselves, in many cases, as it could be to listeners. Thus it\nbecomes us to look well to the under side of our lives, the unspoken\nconvictions and the unformulated motives which work all the more\nmightily upon us because, for the most part, they work in the dark.\nThis is Christ's explanation of one very operative and fruitful\ncause of the refusal to serve Him.\n\nI. I ask you, then, to consider, first, the slander here and the\ntruth that contradicts it.\n\n'I knew thee that thou art an hard man,' says he, 'reaping where\nthem hast not sown' (and he was standing with the unused talent in\nhis hand all the while), 'and gathering where thou hast not\nstrawed.' That is to say, deep down in many a heart that has never\nsaid as much to itself, there lies this black drop of gall--a\nconception of the divine character rather as demanding than as\ngiving, a thought of Him as exacting. What He requires is more\nconsidered than what He bestows. So religion is thought to be mainly\na matter of doing certain things and rendering up certain\nsacrifices, instead of being regarded, as it really is, as mainly a\nmatter of receiving from God. Christ's authority makes me bold to\nsay that this error underlies the lives of an immense number of\nnominal Christians, of people who think themselves very good and\nreligious, as well as the lives of thousands who stand apart from\nreligion altogether. And I want, not to drag down any curtain by my\nown hand, but to ask you to lift away the veil which hides the ugly\nthing in your hearts, and to put your own consciousness to the bar\nof your own conscience, and say whether it is not true that the\nuppermost thought about God, when you think about Him at all, is,\n'Thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown.'\n\nIt is not difficult to understand why such a thought of God should\nrise in a heart which has no delight in Him nor in His service.\nThere is a side of the truth as to God's relations to man which\ngives a colour of plausibility to the slander. Grave and stringent\nrequirements are made by the divine law upon each of us; and our\nconsciences tell us that they have not been kept. Therefore we seek\nto persuade ourselves that they are too severe. Then, further, we\nare, by reason of our own selfishness, almost incapable of rising to\nthe conception of God's pure, perfect, disinterested love; and we\nare far too blind to the benefits that He pours upon us all every\nday of our lives. And so from all these reasons taken together, and\nsome more besides, it comes about that, for some of us, the blessed\nsun in the heavens, the God of all mercy and love, has been darkened\ninto a lurid orb shorn of all its beneficent beams, and hangs\nthreatening there in our misty sky. 'I knew Thee that Thou art an\nhard man.' Ah! I am sure that if we would go down into the deep\nplaces of our own hearts, and ask ourselves what our real thought of\nGod is, many of us would acknowledge that it is something like that.\n\nNow turn to the other side. What is the truth that smites this\nslander to death? That God is perfect, pure, unmingled, infinite\nlove. And what is love? The infinite desire to impart itself. His\n'nature and property' is to be merciful, and you can no more stop\nGod from giving than you can shut up the rays of the sun within\nitself. To be and to bestow are for Him one and the same thing. His\nlove is an infinite longing to give, which passes over into\nperpetual acts of beneficence. He never reaps where He has not sown.\nIs there any place where He has not sown? Is there any heart on\nwhich there have been no seeds of goodness scattered from His rich\nhand? The calumniator in the text was speaking his slanders with\nthat in his hand which should have stopped his mouth. He who\ncomplained that the hard master was asking for fruit of what He had\nnot given would have had nothing at all, if he had not obtained the\none talent from His hand. And there is no place in the whole wide\nuniverse of God where His love has not scattered its beneficent\ngifts. There are no fallow fields out of cultivation and unsown, in\nHis great farm. He never asks where He has not given.\n\nHe never asks until after He has given. He begins with bestowing,\nand it is only after the vineyard has been planted on the very\nfruitful hill, and the hedge built round about it, and the winepress\ndigged, and the tower erected, and miracles of long-suffering mercy\nand skilful patience have been lavished upon it, that then He looks\nthat it should bring forth grapes. God's gifts precede His\nrequirements. He ever sows before He reaps. More than that, He gives\n_what_ He asks, helping us to render to Him the hearts that He\ndesires. He, by His own merciful communications, makes it possible\nthat we should lay at His feet the tribute of loving thanks. Just as\na parent will give a child some money in order that the child may go\nand buy the giver a birthday present, so God gives to us hearts, and\nenriches them with many bestowments. He scatters round about us good\nfrom His hand, like drops of a fragrant perfume from a blazing\ntorch, in order that we may catch them up and have some portion of\nthe joy which is especially His own--the joy of giving. It would be\na poor affair if our sole relation to God were that of receiving. It\nwould be a tyrannous affair if our sole relation to God were that of\nrendering up. But both relations are united, and if it be 'more\nblessed to give than to receive,' the Giver of all good does not\nleave us without the opportunity of entering in even to that\nsuperlative blessing. We have to come to Him and say, when we lay\nthe gifts, either of our faculties or of our trust, of our riches or\nof our virtues, at His feet, 'All things come of Thee, and of Thine\nown have we given Thee.'\n\nHe asks for our sakes, and not for His own. 'If I were hungry I\nwould not tell thee, for the cattle upon a thousand hills are Mine.\nOffer unto God praise, and pay thy vows unto the Most High.' It is\nblessed to us to render. He is none the richer for all our giving,\nas He is none the poorer for all His. Yet His giving to us is real,\nand our giving is real and a joy to Him. That is the truth lifted up\nagainst the slander of the natural heart. God is love, pure giving,\nunlimited and perpetual disposition to bestow. He gives all things\nbefore He asks for anything, and when He asks for anything it is\nthat we may be blessed.\n\nBut you say, 'That is all very well--where do you learn all that about\nGod?' My answer is a very simple one. I learn it, and I believe there\nis no other place to learn it, at the Cross of Jesus Christ. If that\nbe the very apex of the divine love and self-revelation; if, looking\nupon it, we understand God better than by any other means, then there\ncan be no question but that instead of gathering where He has not\nstrawed, and reaping where He has not sown, God is only, and always,\nand utterly, and to every man, infinite love that bestows itself. My\nheart says to me many a time, 'God's laws are hard, God's judgment is\nstrict. God requires what you cannot give. Crouch before Him, and be\nafraid.' And my faith says, 'Get thee behind me, Satan!' 'He that\nspared not His own Son, ... how shall He not with Him also freely give\nus all things?' The Cross of Christ is the answer to the slander, and\nthe revelation of the giving God.\n\nII. Secondly, mark here the fear that dogs such a thought, and the\nlove that casts out the fear.\n\n'I was afraid.' Yes, of course. If a man is not a fool, his emotions\nfollow his thoughts, and his thoughts ought to shape his emotions.\nAnd wherever there is the twilight of uncertainty upon the great\nlesson that the Cross of Jesus Christ has taught us, _there_\nthere will be, however masked and however modified by other\nthoughts, deep in the human heart, a perhaps unspoken, but not\ntherefore ineffectual, dread of God. Just as the misconception of\nthe divine character does influence many a life in which it has\nnever been spoken articulately, and needs some steady observation of\nourselves to be detected, so is it with this dread of Him. Carry the\ntask of self-examination a little further, and ask yourselves\nwhether there does not lie coiled in many of your hearts this dread\nof God, like a sleeping snake which only needs a little warmth to be\nawakened to sting. There are all the signs of it. There are many of\nyou who have a distinct indisposition to be brought close up to the\nthought of Him. There are many of you who have a distinct sense of\ndiscomfort when you are pressed against the realities of the\nChristian religion. There are many of you who, though you cover it\nover with a shallow confidence, or endeavour to persuade yourselves\ninto speculative doubts about the divine nature, or hide it from\nyourselves by indifference, yet know that all that is very thin ice,\nand that there is a great black pool down below---a dread at the\nheart, of a righteous Judge somewhere, with whom you have somewhat\nto do, that you cannot shake off. I do not want to appeal to fear,\nbut it goes to one's heart to see the hundreds and thousands of\npeople round about us who, just because they are afraid of God, will\nnot think about Him, put away angrily and impatiently solemn words\nlike these that I am trying to speak, and seek to surround\nthemselves with some kind of a fool's paradise of indifference, and\nto shut their eyes to facts and realities. You do not confess it to\nyourselves. What kind of a thought must that be about your relation\nto God which you are afraid to speak? Some of you remember the awful\nwords in one of Shakespeare's plays: 'Now I, to comfort him, bid him\nhe should not think of God. I hoped there was no need to trouble\nhimself with any such thoughts yet.' What does that teach us? 'I\nknew Thee that Thou art an hard man; and I was afraid.'\n\nDear friend, there are two religions in this world: there is the\nreligion of fear, and there is the religion of love; and if you have\nnot the one, you must have the other, if you have any at all. The\nonly way to get perfect love that casts out fear is to be quite sure\nof the Father-love in heaven that begets it. And the only way to be\nsure of the infinite love in the heavens that kindles some little\nspark of love in our hearts here, is to go to Christ and learn the\nlesson that He reveals to us at His Cross. Love will annihilate the\nfear; or rather, if I may take such a figure, will set a light to\nthe wreathing smoke that rises, and flash it all up into a ruddy\nflame. For the perfect love that casts out fear sublimes it into\nreverence and changes it into trust. Have you got that love, and did\nyou get it at Christ's Cross?\n\nIII. Lastly, mark the torpor of fear and the activity of love. 'I\nwas afraid, and I went and hid thy talent in the earth.'\n\nFear paralyses service, cuts the nerve of activity, makes a man\nrefuse obedience to God. It was a very illogical thing of that\nindolent servant to say, 'I knew that you were so hard in exacting\nwhat was due to you that therefore I determined _not_ to give\nit to you.' Is it more illogical and more absurd than what hundreds\nof men and women round about us do to-day, when they say, 'God's\nrequirements are so great that I do _not_ attempt to fulfil\nthem'? One would have thought that he would have reasoned the other\nway, and said, 'Because I knew that Thy requirements were so great\nand severe, therefore I put myself with all my powers to my work.'\nNot so. Logical or illogical, the result remains, that that thought\nof God, that black drop of gall, in many a heart, stops the action\nof the hand. Fear is barren, or if it produces anything it is\nnothing to the purpose, and it brings gifts that not even God's love\ncan accept, for there is no love in them. Fear is barren; Love is\nfruitful--like the two mountains of Samaria, from one of which the\nrolling burden of the curses of the Law was thundered, and from the\nother of which the sweet words of promise and of blessing were\nchanted in musical response. On the one side are black rocks,\nwithout a blade of grass on them, the Mount of Cursing; on the other\nside are blushing grapes and vineyards, the Mount of Blessing. Love\nmoves to action, fear paralyses into indolence. And the reason why\nsuch hosts of you do nothing for God is because your hearts have\nnever been touched with the thorough conviction that He has done\neverything for you, and asks you but to love Him back again, and\nbring Him your hearts. These dark thoughts are like the frost which\nbinds the ground in iron fetters, making all the little flowers that\nwere beginning to push their heads into the light shrink back again.\nAnd love, when it comes, will come like the west wind and the\nsunshine of the Spring; and before its emancipating fingers the\nearth's fetters will be cast aside, and the white snowdrops and the\nyellow crocuses will show themselves above the ground. If you want\nyour hearts to bear any fruit of noble living, and holy\nconsecration, and pure deeds, then here is the process--Begin with\nthe knowledge and belief of 'the love which God hath to us'; learn\nthat at the Cross, and let it silence your doubts, and send them\nback to their kennels, silenced. Then take the next step, and love\nHim back again. 'We love Him because He first loved us.' That love\nwill be the productive principle of all glad obedience, and you will\nkeep His commandments, and here upon earth find, as the faithful\nservant found, that talents used increase; and yonder will receive\nthe eulogium from His lips whom to please is blessedness, by whom to\nbe praised is heaven's glory, 'Well done! good and faithful\nservant.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE KING ON HIS JUDGMENT THRONE\n\n\n    'When the Son of Man shall come in His glory, and all\n    the holy angels with Him, then shall He sit upon the\n    throne of His glory: 32. And before Him shall be\n    gathered all nations: and He shall separate them one\n    from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the\n    goats: 33. And He shall set the sheep on His right\n    hand, but the goats on the left. 34. Then shall the\n    King say unto them on His right hand, Come, ye blessed\n    of My Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from\n    the foundation of the world: 35. For I was an hungred,\n    and ye gave Me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave Me\n    drink: I was a stranger, and ye took Me in: 36. Naked,\n    and ye clothed Me: I was sick, and ye visited Me: I was\n    in prison, and ye came unto Me. 37. Then shall the\n    righteous answer Him, saying, Lord, when saw we Thee an\n    hungred, and fed Thee? or thirsty, and gave Thee drink?\n    38. When saw we Thee a stranger, and took Thee in! or\n    naked, and clothed Thee! 39. Or when saw we Thee sick,\n    or in prison, and came unto Thee? 10. And the King\n    shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you,\n    Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of\n    these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me. 41. Then\n    shall He say also unto them on the left hand, Depart\n    from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for\n    the devil and his angels: 42. For I was an hungred, and\n    ye gave Me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave Me no\n    drink: 43. I was a stranger, and ye took Me not in:\n    naked, and ye clothed Me not: sick, and in prison, and\n    ye visited Me not. 44. Then shall they also answer Him,\n    saying, Lord, when saw we Thee an hungred, or athirst,\n    or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did\n    not minister unto Thee? 45. Then shall He answer them,\n    saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it\n    not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to Me.\n    46. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment:\n    but the righteous into life eternal.'--MATT. xxv. 31-46.\n\nThe teachings of that wonderful last day of Christ's ministry, which\nhave occupied so many of our pages, are closed with this tremendous\npicture of universal judgment. It is one to be gazed upon with\nsilent awe, rather than to be commented on. There is fear lest, in\noccupying the mind in the study of the details, and trying to pierce\nthe mystery it partly unfolds, we should forget our own individual\nshare in it. Better to burn in on our hearts the thought, 'I shall\nbe there,' than to lose the solemn impression in efforts to unravel\nthe difficulties of the passage. Difficulties there are, as is to be\nexpected in even Christ's revelation of so unparalleled a scene.\nMany questions are raised by it which will never be solved till we\nstand there. Who can tell how much of the parabolic element enters\ninto the description? We, at all events, do not venture to say of\none part, 'This is merely drapery, the sensuous representation of\nspiritual reality,' and of another, 'That is essential truth.' The\ncurtain is the picture, and before we can separate the elements of\nit in that fashion, we must have lived through it. Let us try to\ngrasp the main lessons, and not lose the spirit in studying the\nletter.\n\nI. The first broad teaching is that Christ is the Judge of all the\nearth. Sitting there, a wearied man on the Mount of Olives, with the\nvalley of Jehoshaphat at His feet, which the Jew regarded as the\nscene of the final judgment, Jesus declared Himself to be the Judge\nof the world, in language so unlimited in its claims that the\nspeaker must be either a madman or a god. Calvary was less than\nthree days off, when He spoke thus. The contrast between the vision\nof the future and the reality of the present is overwhelming. The\nSon of Man has come in weakness and shame; He will come in His\nglory, that flashing light of the self-revealing God, of which the\nsymbol was the 'glory' which shone between the cherubim, and which\nJesus Christ here asserts to belong to Him as '_His_ glory.'\nThen, heaven will be emptied of its angels, who shall gather round\nthe enthroned Judge as His handful of sorrowing followers were\nclustered round Him as He spoke, or as the peasants had surrounded\nthe meek state of His entry yesterday. Then, He will take the place\nof Judge, and 'sit,' in token of repose, supremacy, and judgment,\n'on the throne of His glory,' as He now sat on the rocks of Olivet.\nThen, mankind shall be massed at His feet, and His glance shall part\nthe infinite multitudes, and discern the character of each item in\nthe crowd as easily and swiftly as the shepherd's eye picks out the\nblack goats from among the white sheep. Observe the difference in\nthe representation from those in the previous parables. There, the\nparting of kinds was either self-acting, as in the case of the\nfoolish maidens; or men gave account of _themselves_, as in the\ncase of the servants with the talents. Here, the separation is the\nwork of the Judge, and is completed before a word is spoken. All\nthese representations must be included in the complete truth as to\nthe final judgment. It is the effect of men's actions; it is the\nresult of their compelled disclosing of the deepest motives of their\nlives; it is the act of the perfect discernment of the Judge. Their\ndeeds will judge them; they will judge themselves; Christ will\njudge.\n\nSingularly enough, every possible interpretation of the extent of\nthe expression 'all nations' has found advocates. It has been taken\nin its widest and plainest meaning, as equivalent to the whole race;\nit has been confined to mankind exclusive of Christians, and it has\nbeen confined to Christians exclusive of heathens. There are\ndifficulties in all these explanations, but probably the least are\nfound in the first. It is most natural to suppose that 'all nations'\nmeans all nations, unless that meaning be impossible. The absence of\nthe limitation to the 'kingdom of heaven,' which distinguishes this\nsection from the preceding ones having reference to judgment, and\nthe position of the present section as the solemn close of Christ's\nteachings, which would naturally widen out into the declaration of\nthe universal judgment, which forms the only appropriate climax and\nend to the foregoing teachings, seem to point to the widest meaning\nof the phrase. His office of universal Judge is unmistakably taught\nthroughout the New Testament, and it seems in the highest degree\nunnatural to suppose that He did not speak of it in these final\nwords of prophetic warning. We may therefore, with some confidence,\nsee in the magnificent and awful picture here drawn the vision of\nuniversal judgment. Parabolic elements there no doubt are in the\npicture; but we have no governing revelation, free from these, by\nwhich we can check them, and be sure of how much is form and how\nmuch substance. This is clear, 'that we must all appear before the\njudgment-seat of Christ'; and this is clear, that Jesus Christ put\nforth, when at the very lowest point of His earthly humiliation,\nthese tremendous claims, and asserted His authority as Judge over\nevery soul of man. We are apt to lose ourselves in the crowd. Let us\npause and think that 'all' includes 'me.'\n\nII. Note the principles of Christ's universal judgment. It is\nimportant to remember that this section closes a series of\ndescriptions of the judgment, and must not be taken as if, when\nisolated, it set forth all the truth. It is often harped upon by\npersons who are unfriendly to evangelical teaching, as if it were\nChrist's only word about judgment, and interpreted as if it meant\nthat, no matter what else a man was, if only he is charitable and\nbenevolent, he will find mercy. But this is to forget all the rest\nof our Lord's teaching in the context, and to fly in the face of the\nwhole tenor of New Testament doctrine. We have here to do with the\nprinciples of judgment which apply equally to those who have, and to\nthose who have not, heard the gospel. The subjects of the kingdom\nare shown the principles more immediately applicable to them, in the\nprevious parables, and here they are reminded that there is a\nstandard of judgment absolutely universal. All men, whether\nChristians or not, are judged by 'the things done in the body,\nwhether they be good or bad.' So Christ teaches in His closing words\nof the Sermon on the Mount, and in many another place. 'Every tree\nthat bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the\nfire.' The productive source of good works is not in question here;\nstress is laid on the fruits, rather than on the root. The gospel is\nas imperative in its requirements of righteousness as the law is,\nand its conception of the righteousness which it requires is far\ndeeper and wider. The subjects of the kingdom ever need to be\nreminded of the solemn truth that they have not only, like the wise\nmaidens, to have their lights burning and their oil vessels filled,\nnor only, like the wise servants, to be using the gifts of the\nkingdom for their lord, but, as members of the great family of man,\nhave to cultivate the common moralities which all men, heathen and\nChristian, recognise as binding on all, without which no man shall\nsee the Lord. The special form of righteousness which is selected as\nthe test is charity. Obviously it is chosen as representative of all\nthe virtues of the second table of the law. Taken in its bare\nliterality, this would mean that men's relations to God had no\neffect in the judgment, mid that no other virtues but this of\ncharity came into the account. Such a conclusion is so plainly\nrepugnant to all Christ's teaching, that we must suppose that love\nto one's neighbour is here singled out, just as it is in His summary\nof 'the law and the prophets,' as the crown and flower of all\nrelative duties, and as, in a very real sense, being 'the fulfilling\nof the law.' The omission of any reference to the love of God\nsufficiently shows that the view here is rigidly limited to acts,\nand that all the grounds of judgment are not meant to be set forth.\n\nBut the benevolence here spoken of is not the mere natural\nsentiment, which often exists in great energy in men whose moral\nnature is, in other respects, so utterly un-Christlike that their\nentrance into the kingdom prepared for the righteous is\ninconceivable. Many a man has a hundred vices and yet a soft heart.\nIt is very much a matter of temperament. Does Christ so contradict\nall the rest of His teaching as to say that such a man is of 'the\nsheep,' and 'blessed of the Father'? Surely not. Is every piece of\nkindliness to the distressed, from whatever motive, and by\nwhatsoever kind of person done, regarded by Him as done to Himself?\nTo say so, would be to confound moral distinctions, and to dissolve\nall righteousness into a sentimental syrup. The deeds which He\nregards as done to Himself, are done to His 'brethren.' That\nexpression carries us into the region of motive, and runs parallel\nwith His other words about 'receiving a prophet,' and 'giving a cup\nof cold water to one of these little ones,' because they are His.\nSeeing that all nations are at the bar, the expression, 'My\nbrethren,' cannot be confined to the disciples, for many of those\nwho are being judged have never come in contact with Christians, nor\ncan it be reasonably supposed to include all men, for, however true\nit is that Christ is every man's brother, the recognition of kindred\nhere must surely be confined to those at the right hand. Whatever be\nincluded under the 'righteous,' that is included under the\n'brethren.' We seem, then, led to recognise in the expression a\nreference to the motive of the beneficence, and to be brought to the\nconclusion that what the Judge accepts as done to Himself is such\nkindly help and sympathy as is extended to these His kindred, with\nsome recognition of their character, and desire after it. To\n'receive a prophet' implies that there is some spiritual affinity\nwith him in the receiver. To give help to His brethren, because they\nare so, implies some affinity with Him or feeling after likeness to\nHim and them. Now, if we hold fast by the universality of the\njudgment here depicted, we shall see that this recognition must\nnecessarily have different degrees in those who have heard of Christ\nand in those who have not. In the former, it will be equivalent to\nthat faith which is the root of all goodness, and grasps the Christ\nrevealed in the gospel. In the latter, it can be no more than a\nfeeling after Him who is the 'light that lighteneth every man that\ncometh into the world.' Surely there are souls amid the darkness of\nheathenism yearning toward the light, like plants grown in the dark.\nBy ways of His own, Christ can reach such hearts, as the river of\nthe water of life may percolate through underground channels to many\na tree which grows far from its banks.\n\nIII. Note the surprises of the judgment. The astonishment of the\nrighteous is not modesty disclaiming praise, but real wonder at the\nundreamed-of significance of their deeds. In the parable of the\ntalents, the servants unveiled their inmost hearts, and accurately\ndescribed their lives. Here, the other side of the truth is brought\ninto prominence, that, at that day, we shall be surprised when we\nhear from His lips what we have really done. True Christian\nbeneficence has consciously for its motive the pleasing of Christ;\nbut still he who most earnestly strove, while here, to do all as\nunto Jesus, will be full of thankful wonder at the grace which\naccepts his poor service, and will learn, with fresh marvelling, how\nclosely He associates Himself with His humblest servant. There is an\nelement of mystery hidden from ourselves in all our deeds. Our love\nto Christ's followers never goes out so plainly to Him that, while\nhere, we can venture to be sure that He takes it as done for Him. We\ncannot here follow the flight of the arrow, nor know what meaning He\nwill attach to, or what large issues He will evolve from, our poor\ndoings. So heaven will be full of blessed surprises, as we reap the\nfruit growing 'in power' of what we sowed 'in weakness,' and as\ndoleful will be the astonishment which will seize those who see, for\nthe first time, in the lurid light of that day, the true character\nof their lives, as one long neglect of plain duties, which was all a\ndefrauding the Saviour of His due. Mere doing nothing is enough to\ncondemn, and its victims will be shudderingly amazed at the fatal\nwound it has inflicted on them.\n\nIV. The irrevocableness of the judgment. That is an awful contrast\nbetween the 'Come! ye blessed,' and 'Depart! ye cursed.' That is a\nmore awful parallel between 'eternal punishment' and 'eternal life.'\nIt is futile to attempt to alleviate the awfulness by emptying the\nword 'eternal' of reference to duration. It no doubt connotes\nquality, but its first meaning is ever-during. There is nothing here\nto suggest that the one condition is more terminable than the other.\nRather, the emphatic repetition of the word brings the unending\ncontinuance of each into prominence, as the point in which these two\nstates, so wofully unlike, are the same. In whatever other passages\nthe doctrine of universal restoration may seem to find a foothold,\nthere is not an inch of standing-room for it here. Reverently\naccepting Christ's words as those of perfect and infallible love,\nthe present writer feels so strongly the difficulty of bringing all\nthe New Testament declarations on this dread question into a\nharmonious whole, that he abjures for himself dogmatic certainty,\nand dreads lest, in the eagerness of discussing the duration (which\nwill never be beyond the reach of discussion), the solemn reality of\nthe fact of future retribution should be dimmed, and men should\nargue about 'the terror of the Lord' till they cease to feel it.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DEFENCE OF UNCALCULATING LOVE\n\n\n    'Now when Jesus was in Bethany, in the house of Simon\n    the leper, 7. There came unto him a woman having an\n    alabaster box of very precious ointment, and poured\n    it on His head, as He sat at meat. 8. But when His\n    disciples saw it, they had indignation, saying, To what\n    purpose is this waste? 9. For this ointment might have\n    been sold for much, and given to the poor. 10. When\n    Jesus understood it, He said unto them, Why trouble ye\n    the woman? for she hath wrought a good work upon Me.\n    11. For ye have the poor always with you; but Me ye\n    have not always. 12. For in that she hath poured this\n    ointment on My body, she did it for My burial.\n    13. Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel\n    shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also\n    this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial\n    of her. 14. Then one of the twelve, called Judas\n    Iscariot, went unto the chief priests, 15. And said\n    unto them, What will ye give me, and I will deliver Him\n    unto you? And they covenanted with him for thirty\n    pieces of silver. 16. And from that time he sought\n    opportunity to betray Him.'--MATT. xxvi. 6-16.\n\nJohn tells us that the 'woman' was Mary, and the objector Judas.\nBoth the deed and the cavil are better understood by knowing whence\nthey came. Lazarus was a guest, and as his sister saw him sitting\nthere by Jesus her heart overflowed, and she could not but catch up\nher most precious possession, and lavish it on His head and feet.\nLove's impulses appear absurd to selfishness. How could Judas\nunderstand Mary? Detracting comments find ready ears. One sneer will\ncool down to contempt and blame the feelings of a company. People\nare always eager to pick holes in conduct which they uneasily feel\nto be above their own reach. Poor Mary! she had but yielded to the\nuncalculating impulse of her great love, and she finds herself\ncharged with imprudence, waste, and unfeeling neglect of the poor.\nNo wonder that her gentle heart was 'troubled.' But Jesus threw the\nshield of His approval over her, and that was enough. Never mind how\nJudas and better men than he may find fault, if Jesus smiles\nacceptance.\n\nHis great words set forth, first, the vindication of the act,\nbecause of its motive. Anything done with no regard to any end but\nHimself is, in His eyes, 'good.' The perfection of conduct is that\nit shall all be referred to Jesus. That 'altar' sanctifies gift and\ngiver. Conversely, whatever has no reference to Him lacks the\nhighest beauty of goodness. A pebble in the bed of a sunlit stream\nhas its veins of colour brought out; lift it out, and, as it dries,\nit dulls. So our deeds plunged into that great river are heightened\nin loveliness. Everything which has 'For Christ's sake' stamped on\nit is thereby hallowed. That is the unfailing recipe for making a\nlife fair. Mary was thinking only of Jesus and of her love to Him,\ntherefore what she did was sweet to Him. The greater part of a deed\nis its motive, and the perfect motive is love to Jesus.\n\nBut, further, Christ defends the side of Mary's deed which the\ncritics fastened on. They posed as being more practical and\nbenevolent than she was. They were utilitarians, she was wasteful.\nTheir objection sounds sensible, but it belongs to the low levels of\nlife. One flash of lofty love would have killed it. Christ's reply\nto it draws a contrast between constant duties and special,\ntransient moments. It is coloured, too, by His consciousness of His\nnear end, and has an undertone of sadness in that 'Me ye have not\nalways.' There are high tides of Christian emotion, when the\nquestion of what good this thing will do is submerged, and the only\nquestion is, 'What best thing shall I render to the Lord?' The\ncritics were not more beneficent, but less inflamed with love to\nJesus, and the leader of them only wished that the proceeds of the\nointment had come into his hands, where some of it would have stuck.\nWe hear the same sort of taunt today,--What is the sense of all this\nmoney being spent on missions and religious objects? How much more\nuseful it would be if expended on better dwellings for the poor or\nhospitals or technical schools! But there is a place in Christ's\ntreasury for useless deeds, if they are the pure expression of love\nto Him, and Mary's alabaster box, which did no good at all, lies\nbeside the cups that held cold water which slaked some thirsty lips.\nUncalculating impulse, which only knows that it would fain give all\nto the Lover of souls, is not merely excused, but praised, by Jesus.\nLovers on earth do not concern themselves about the usefulness of\ntheir gifts, and the divine Lover rejoices over what cold-blooded\nspectators, who do not in the least understand the ways of loving\nhearts, find useless 'waste.' The world would put all the emotions\nof Christian hearts, and all the heroisms of Christian martyrs, and\nall the sacrifices of Christian workers, into the same class. Jesus\naccepts them all.\n\nAgain, He breathes a meaning into the gift beyond what the giver\nmeant. Mary did not regard her anointing  as preparatory to His\nburial, but He had His thoughts fixed on it, and He sought to\nprepare the disciples for the coming storm. How far away from the\nsimple festivities in Simon's house were His thoughts! What a gulf\nbetween the other guests and Him! But Jesus always puts significance\ninto the service which He accepts, and surprises the givers by the\nfar-reaching issues of their gifts. We know not what He may make our\npoor deeds mean. Results are beyond our vision. Therefore let us\nmake sure of what is within our horizon--namely, motives. If we do\nanything for His sake, He will take care of what it comes to. That\nis true even on earth, and still more true in heaven. 'Lord, when\nsaw we Thee an hungred, and fed Thee?' What surprises will wait\nChrist's humble servants in heaven, when they see what was the true\nnature and the widespread consequences of their humble deeds! 'Thou\nsowest not that body that shall be, but bare grain, ... but God\ngiveth it a body as it hath pleased Him.'\n\nAgain, Mark gives an additional clause in Christ's words, which\nbrings out the principle that the measure of acceptable service is\nability. 'She hath done what she could' is an apology, or rather a\nvindication, for the shape of the gift. Mary was not practical, and\ncould not 'serve' like Martha; she probably had no other precious\nthing that she could give, but she could love, and she could bestow\nher best on Jesus. But the saying implies a stringent demand, as\nwell as a gracious defence. Nothing less than the full measure of\nability is the measure of Christian obligation. Power to its last\nparticle is duty. Jesus does not ask how much His servants do or\ngive, but He does ask that they should do and give all that they\ncan. He wishes us to be ourselves in serving Him, and to shape our\nmethods according to character and capabilities, but He also wishes\nus to give Him our whole selves. If anything is kept back, all that\nis given is marred.\n\nJesus' last word gives perpetuity to the service which He accepts.\nMary is promised immortality for her deed, and the promise has been\nfulfilled, and here are we, all these centuries after, looking at\nher as she breaks the box and pours it on His head. Jesus is not\nunrighteous to forget any work of love done for Him. The fragrance\nof the ointment soon passed away, and the shreds of the broken cruse\nwere swept into the dust-bin, with the other relics of the feast;\nbut all the world knows of that act of all-surrendering love, and it\nsmells sweet and blossoms for evermore.\n\n\n\n\nTHE NEW PASSOVER\n\n\n    'Now the first day of the feast of unleavened bread the\n    disciples came to Jesus, saying unto Him, Where wilt\n    Thou that we prepare for Thee to eat the passover?\n    18. And He said, Go into the city to such a man, and\n    say unto him, The Master saith, My time is at hand; I\n    will keep the passover at thy house with My disciples.\n    19. And the disciples did as Jesus had appointed them;\n    and they made ready the passover. 20. Now when the even\n    was come, He sat down with the twelve. 21. And as they\n    did eat, He said, Verily I say unto you, That one of\n    you shall betray Me. 22. And they were exceeding\n    sorrowful, and began every one of them to say unto Him,\n    Lord, is it I? 23. And He answered and said, He that\n    dippeth his hand with Me in the dish, the same shall\n    betray Me. 21. The Son of Man goeth as it is written\n    of Him; but woe unto that man by whom the Son of Man is\n    betrayed! it had been good for that man if he had not\n    been born. 25. Then Judas, which betrayed Him, answered\n    and said, Master, is it I? He said unto him, Thou hast\n    said 26. And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and\n    blessed it, and brake it, and gave it to the disciples,\n    and said, Take, eat; this is My body. 27. And He took\n    the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying,\n    Drink ye all of it; 28. For this is My blood of the new\n    testament, which is shed for many for the remission\n    of sins. 29. But I say unto you, I will not drink\n    henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day\n    when I drink it new with you in My Father's kingdom.\n    30. And when they had sung an hymn, they went out into\n    the Mount of Olives.'--MATT. xxvi. 17-30.\n\nThe Tuesday of Passion Week was occupied by the wonderful discourses\nwhich have furnished so many of our meditations. At its close Jesus\nsought retirement in Bethany, not only to soothe and prepare His\nspirit but to 'hide Himself' from the Sanhedrin. There He spent the\nWednesday. Who can imagine His thoughts? While He was calmly\nreposing in Mary's quiet home, the rulers determined on His arrest,\nbut were at a loss how to effect it without a riot. Judas comes to\nthem opportunely, and they leave it to him to give the signal.\nPossibly we may account for the peculiar secrecy observed as to the\nplace for the last supper, by our Lord's knowledge that His steps\nwere watched, and by His earnest wish to eat the Passover with the\ndisciples before He suffered. The change between the courting of\npublicity and almost inviting of arrest at the beginning of the\nweek, and the evident desire to postpone the crisis till the fitting\nmoment which marks the close of it, is remarkable, and most\nnaturally explained by the supposition that He wished the time of\nHis death to be that very hour when, according to law, the paschal\nlamb was slain. On the Thursday, then, he sent Peter and John into\nthe city to prepare the Passover; the others being in ignorance of\nthe place till they were there, and Judas being thus prevented from\ncarrying out his purpose till after the celebration.\n\nThe precautions taken to ensure this have left their mark on\nMatthew's narrative, in the peculiar designation of the host,--'Such\na man!' It is a kind of echo of the mystery which he so well\nremembered as round the errand of the two. He does not seem to have\nheard of the token by which they knew the house, viz., the man with\nthe pitcher whom they were to meet. But he does know that Peter and\nJohn got secret instructions, and that he and the others wondered\nwhere they were to go. Had there been a previous arrangement with\nthis unnamed 'such an one,' or were the token and the message alike\ninstances of Christ's supernatural knowledge and authority? It is\ndifficult to say. I incline to the former supposition, which would\nbe in accordance with the distinct effort after secrecy which marks\nthese days; but the narratives do not decide the question. At all\nevents, the host was a disciple, as appears from the authoritative\n'the Master saith'; and, whether he had known beforehand that 'this\nday' incarnate 'salvation would come to his house' or no, he eagerly\naccepts the peril and the honour. His message is royal in its tone.\nThe Lord does not ask permission, but issues His commands. But He is\na pauper King, not having where to lay His head, and needing another\nman's house in which to gather His own household together for the\nfamily feast of the Passover. What profound truths are wrapped up in\nthat 'My time is come'! It speaks of the voluntariness of His\nsurrender, the consciousness that His Cross was the centre point of\nHis work, His superiority to all external influences as determining\nthe hour of His death, and His submission to the supreme appointment\nof the Father. Obedience and freedom, choice and necessity, are\nwonderfully blended in it.\n\nSo, late on that Thursday evening, the little band left Bethany for\nthe last time, in a fashion very unlike the joyous stir of the\ntriumphal entry. As the evening is falling, they thread their way\nthrough the noisy streets, all astir with the festal crowds, and\nreach the upper room, Judas vainly watching for an opportunity to\nslip away on his black errand. The chamber, prepared by unknown\nhands, has vanished, and the hands are dust; but both are immortal.\nHow many of the living acts of His servants in like manner seem to\nperish, and the doers of them to be forgotten or unknown! But He\nknows the name of 'such an one,' and does not forget that he opened\nhis door for Him to enter in and sup.\n\nThe fact that Jesus put aside the Passover and founded the Lord's\nSupper in its place, tells much both about _His_ authority and\n_its_ meaning. What must He have conceived of Himself, who bade\nJew and Gentile turn away from that God-appointed festival, and\nthink not of Moses, but of Him? What did He mean by setting the\nLord's Supper in the place of the Passover, if He did not mean that\nHe was the true Paschal Lamb, that His death was a true sacrifice,\nthat in His sprinkled blood was safety, that His death inaugurated\nthe better deliverance of the true Israel from a darker prison-house\nand a sorer bondage, that His followers were a family, and that 'the\nchildren's bread' was the sacrifice which He had made? There are\nmany reasons for the doubling of the commemorative emblem, but this\nis obviously one of the chief--that, by the separation of the two in\nthe rite, we are carried back to the separation in fact; that is to\nsay, to the violent death of Christ. Not His flesh alone, in the\nsense of Incarnation, but His body broken and His blood shed, are\nwhat He wills should be for ever remembered. His own estimate of the\ncentre point of His work is unmistakably pronounced in His\ninstitution of this rite.\n\nBut we may consider the force of each emblem separately. In many\nimportant points they mean the same things, but they have each their\nown significance as well. Matthew's condensed version of the words\nof institution omits all reference to the breaking of the body and\nto the memorial character of the observance, but both are implied.\nHe emphasises the reception, the participation, and the significance\nof the bread. As to the latter, 'This is My body' is to be\nunderstood in the same way as 'the field is the world,' and many\nother sayings. To speak in the language of grammarians, the copula\nis that of symbolic relationship, not that of existence; or, to\nspeak in the language of the street, 'is' here means, as it often\ndoes, 'represents.' How could it mean anything else, when Christ sat\nthere in His body, and His blood was in His veins? What, then, is\nthe teaching of this symbol? It is not merely that He in His\nhumanity is the bread of life, but that He in His death is the\nnourishment of our true life. In that great discourse in John's\nGospel, which embodies in words the lessons which the Lord's Supper\nteaches by symbols, He advances from the general statement, 'I am\nthe Bread of Life,' to the yet more mysterious and profound teaching\nthat His flesh, which at some then future point He will 'give for\nthe life of the world,' is the bread; thus distinctly foreshadowing\nHis death, and asserting that by that death we live, and by\npartaking of it are nourished. The participation in the benefits of\nChrist's death, which is symbolised by 'Take, eat,' is effected by\nliving faith. We feed on Christ when our minds are occupied with His\ntruth, and our hearts nourished by His love, when it is the 'meat'\nof our wills to do His will, and when our whole inward man fastens\non Him as its true object, and draws from Him its best being. But\nthe act of reception teaches the great lesson that Christ must be in\nus, if He is to do us any good. He is not 'for us' in any real\nsense, unless He be 'in us.' The word rendered in John's Gospel\n'eateth' is that used for the ruminating of cattle, and wonderfully\nindicates the calm, continual, patient meditation by which alone we\ncan receive Christ into our hearts, and nourish our lives on Him.\nBread eaten is assimilated to the body, but this bread eaten\nassimilates the eater to itself, and he who feeds on Christ becomes\nChrist-like, as the silk-worm takes the hue of the leaves on which\nit browses. Bread eaten to-day will not nourish us to-morrow,\nneither will past experiences of Christ's sweetness sustain the\nsoul. He must be 'our daily bread' if we are not to pine with\nhunger.\n\nThe wine carries its own special teaching, which clearly appears in\nMatthew's version of the words of institution. It is 'My blood,' and\nby its being presented in a form separate from the bread which is\nHis body suggests a violent death. It is 'covenant blood,' the seal\nof that 'better covenant' than the old, which God makes now with all\nmankind, wherein are given renewed hearts which carry the divine law\nwithin themselves; the reciprocal and mutually blessed possession of\nGod by men and of men by God, the universally diffused knowledge of\nGod, which is more than head knowledge, being the consciousness of\npossessing Him; and, finally, the oblivion of all sins. These\npromises are fulfilled, and the covenant made sure, by the shed\nblood of Christ. So, finally, it is 'shed for many, for the\nremission of sins.' The end of Christ's death is pardon which can\nonly be extended on the ground of His death. We are told that Christ\ndid not teach the doctrine of atonement. Did He establish the Lord's\nSupper? If He did (and nobody denies that), what did He mean by it,\nif He did not mean the setting forth by symbol of the very same\ntruth which, stated in words, is the doctrine of His atoning death?\nThis rite does not, indeed, explain the _rationale_ of the\ndoctrine; but it is a piece of unmeaning mummery, unless it preaches\nplainly the fact that Christ's death is the ground of our\nforgiveness.\n\nBread is the 'staff of life,' but blood is the life. So 'this cup'\nteaches that 'the life' of Jesus Christ must pass into His people's\nveins, and that the secret of the Christian life is 'I live; yet not\nI, but Christ liveth in me.' Wine is joy, and the Christian life is\nnot only to be a feeding of the soul on Christ as its nourishment,\nbut a glad partaking, as at a feast, of His life and therein of His\njoy. Gladness of heart is a Christian duty, 'the joy of the Lord is\nyour strength' and should be _our_ joy; and though here we eat\nwith loins girt, and go out, some of us to deny, some of us to flee,\nall of us to toil and suffer, yet we may have His joy fulfilled in\nourselves, even whilst we sorrow.\n\nThe Lord's Supper is predominantly a memorial, but it is also a\nprophecy, and is marked as such by the mysterious last words of\nJesus, about drinking the new wine in the Father's kingdom. They\npoint the thoughts of the saddened eleven, on whom the dark shadow\nof parting lay heavily, to an eternal reunion, in a land where 'all\nthings are become new,' and where the festal cup shall be filled\nwith a draught that has power to gladden and to inspire beyond any\nexperience here. The joys of heaven will be so far analogous to the\nChristian joys of earth that the same name may be applied to both;\nbut they will be so unlike that the old name will need a new\nmeaning, and communion with Christ at His table in His kingdom, and\nour exuberance of joy in the full drinking in of His immortal life,\nwill transcend the selectest hours of communion here. Compared with\nthat fulness of joy they will be 'as water unto wine,'--the new wine\nof the kingdom.\n\n\n\n\n'IS IT I?'\n\n\n    'And they were exceeding sorrowful, and began every one\n    of them to say unto Him, Lord, is it I? 25. Then Judas,\n    which betrayed Him, answered and said, Master, is it I?\n    He said unto him, Thou hast said.'-MATT. xxvi. 22, 25.\n\n    'He then lying on Jesus' breast saith unto Him, Lord,\n    who is it?'--JOHN xiii. 25.\n\nThe genius of many great painters has portrayed the Lord's Supper,\nbut the reality of it was very different from their imaginings. We\nhave to picture to ourselves some low table, probably a mere tray\nspread upon the ground, round which our Lord and the twelve\nreclined, in such a fashion as that the head of each guest came\nagainst the bosom of him that reclined above him; the place of\nhonour being at the Lord's left hand, or higher up the table than\nHimself, and the second place being at His right, or below Himself.\n\nSo there would be no eager gesticulations of disciples starting to\ntheir feet when our Lord uttered the sad announcement, 'One of you\nshall betray Me!' but only horror-struck amazement settled down upon\nthe group. These verses, which we have put together, show us three\nstages in the conversation which followed the sad announcement. The\nthree evangelists give us two of these; John alone omits these two,\nand only gives us the third.\n\nFirst, we have their question, born of a glimpse into the\npossibilities of evil in their hearts, 'Lord, is it I?'\n\nThe form of that question in the original suggests that they\nexpected a negative answer, and might be reproduced in English:\n'Surely it is not I?' None of them could think that he was the\ntraitor, yet none of them could be sure that he was not. Their\nMaster knew better than they did; and so, from a humble knowledge of\nwhat lay in them, coiled and slumbering, _but there_, they\nwould not meet His words with a contradiction, but with a question.\nHis answer spares the betrayer, and lets the dread work in their\nconsciences for a little longer, for their good. For many hands\ndipped in the dish together, to moisten their morsels; and to say,\n'He that dippeth with Me in the dish, the same shall betray Me,' was\nto say nothing more than 'One of you at the table.'\n\nThen comes the second stage. Judas, reassured that he has escaped\ndetection for the moment, and perhaps doubting whether the Master\nhad anything more than a vague suspicion of treachery, or knew who\nwas the traitor, shapes his lying lips with loathsome audacity into\nthe same question, but yet not quite the same, The others had said,\n'Is it I, Lord?' he falters when he comes to that name, and dare not\nsay 'Lord!' That sticks in his throat. 'Rabbi!' is as far as he can\nget. 'Is it I, Rabbi?' Christ's answer to him, 'Thou hast said,' is\nanother instance of patient longsuffering. It was evidently a\nwhisper that did not reach the ears of any of the others, for he\nleaves the room without suspicion. Our Lord still tries to save him\nfrom himself by showing Judas that his purpose is known, and by\nstill concealing his name.\n\nThen comes the third stage, which we owe to John's Gospel. Here\nagain he is true to his task of supplementing the narrative of the\nthree synoptic Gospels. Remembering what I have said about the\nattitude of the disciples at the table, we can understand that\nPeter, if he occupied the principal place at the Lord's left, was\nless favourably situated for speaking to Christ than John, who\nreclined in the second seat at His right, and so he beckoned over\nthe Master's head to John. The Revised Version gives the force of\nthe original more vividly than the Authorised does: 'He, leaning\nback, as he was, on Jesus' breast, saith unto Him, Lord! who is it?'\nJohn, with a natural movement, bends back his head on his Master's\nbreast, so as to ask and be answered, in a whisper. His question is\n_not_, 'Is it I?' He that leaned on Christ's bosom, and was\ncompassed about by Christ's love, did not need to ask that. The\nquestion now is, 'Who is it?' Not a question of presumption, nor of\ncuriosity, but of affection; and therefore answered: 'He it is to\nwhom I shall give the sop, when I have dipped it.'\n\nThe morsel dipped in the dish and passed by the host's hand to a\nguest, was a token of favour, of unity and confidence. It was one\nmore attempt to save Judas, one more token of all-forgiving\npatience. No wonder that that last sign of friendship embittered his\nhatred and sharpened his purpose to an unalterable decision, or, as\nJohn says: 'After the sop, Satan entered into him.' For then, as\never, the heart which is not melted by Christ's offered love is\nhardened by it.\n\nNow, if we take these three stages of this conversation we may learn\nsome valuable lessons from them. I take the first form of the\nquestion as an example of that wholesome self-distrust which a\nglimpse into the slumbering possibilities of evil in our hearts\nought to give us all. I take the second on the lips of Judas, as an\nexample of the very opposite of that self-distrust, the fixed\ndetermination to do a wrong thing, however clearly we know it to be\nwrong. And I take the last form of the question, as asked by John,\nas an illustration of the peaceful confidence which comes from the\nconsciousness of Christ's love, and of communion with Him. Now a\nword or two about each of these.\n\nI. First, we have an example of that wholesome self-distrust, which\na glimpse into the possibilities of evil that lie slumbering in all\nour hearts ought to teach every one of us.\n\nEvery man is a mystery to himself. In every soul there lie, coiled\nand dormant, like hibernating snakes, evils that a very slight rise\nin the temperature will wake up into poisonous activity. And let no\nman say, in foolish self-confidence, that any form of sin which his\nbrother has ever committed is impossible for him. Temperament\nshields us from much, no doubt. There are sins that 'we are inclined\nto,' and there are sins that 'we have no mind to.' But the identity\nof human nature is deeper than the diversity of temperament, and\nthere are two or three considerations that should abate a man's\nconfidence that _anything_ which one man has done it is impossible\nthat he should do. Let me enumerate them very briefly. Remember, to\nbegin with, that all sins are at bottom but varying forms of one root.\nThe essence of every evil is selfishness, and when you have that, it\nis exactly as with cooks who have the 'stock' by the fireside. They\ncan make any kind of soup out of it, with the right flavouring. We\nhave got the mother tincture of all wickedness in each of our hearts;\nand therefore do not let us be so sure that it cannot be manipulated\nand flavoured into any form of sin. All sin is one at bottom, and this\nis the definition of it--living to myself instead of living to God.\nSo it may easily pass from one form of evil into another, just as\nlight and heat, motion and electricity, are all--they tell us--various\nforms and phases of one force. Just as doctors will tell you that\nthere are types of disease which slip from one form of sickness\ninto another, so if we have got the infection about us it is a matter\nvery much of accidental circumstances what shape it takes. And no\nman with a human heart is safe in pointing to any sin, and saying,\n'_That_ form of transgression I reckon alien to myself.'\n\nAnd then let me remind you, too, that the same consideration is\nreinforced by this other fact, that all sin is, if I may so say,\ngregarious; is apt not only to slip from one form into another, but\nthat any evil is apt to draw another after it. The tangled mass of\nsin is like one of those great fields of seaweed that you some times\ncome across upon the ocean, all hanging together by a thousand slimy\ngrowths; which, if lifted from the wave at any point, drags up yards\nof it inextricably grown together. No man commits only one kind of\ntransgression. All sins hunt in couples. According to the grim\npicture of the Old Testament, about another matter, 'None of them\nshall want his mate. The wild beasts of the desert shall meet with\nthe wild beasts of the islands.' One sin opens the door for another,\n'and seven other spirits worse than himself' come and make holiday\nin the man's heart.\n\nAgain, any evil is possible to us, seeing that all sin is but\nyielding to tendencies common to us all. The greatest transgressions\nhave resulted from yielding to such tendencies. Cain killed his\nbrother from jealousy; David besmirched his name and his reign by\nanimal passion; Judas betrayed Christ because he was fond of money.\nMany a man has murdered another one simply because he had a hot\ntemper. And you have got a temper, and you have got the love of\nmoney, and you have got animal passions, and you have got that which\nmay stir you up into jealousy. Your neighbour's house has caught\nfire and been blown up. Your house, too, is built of wood, and\nthatched with straw, and you have as much dynamite in your cellars\nas he had in his. Do not be too sure that you are safe from the\ndanger of explosion.\n\nAnd, again, remember that this same wholesome self-distrust is\nneedful for us all, because all transgression is yielding to\ntemptations that assail all men. Here are one hundred men in a\nplague-stricken city; they have all got to draw their water from the\nsame well. If five or six of them died of cholera it would be very\nfoolish of the other ninety-five to say, 'There is no chance of our\nbeing touched.' We all live in the same atmosphere; and the\ntemptations that have overcome the men that have headed the count of\ncrimes appeal to you. So the lesson is, 'Be not high-minded, but\nfear.'\n\nAnd remember, still further, that the same solemn consideration is\nenforced upon us by the thought that men will gradually drop down to\nthe level which, before they began the descent, seemed to be\nimpossible to them. 'Is thy servant a dog that he should do this\nthing?' said Hazael when the crime of murdering his master first\nfloated before him. Yes, but he did it. By degrees he came down to\nthe level to which he thought that he would never sink. First the\nimagination is inflamed, then the wish begins to draw the soul to\nthe sin, then conscience pulls it back, then the fatal decision is\nmade, and the deed is done. Sometimes all the stages are hurried\nquickly through, and a man spins downhill as cheerily and fast as a\ndiligence down the Alps. Sometimes, as the coast of a country may\nsink an inch in a century until long miles of the flat seabeach are\nunder water, and towers and cities are buried beneath the barren\nwaves, so our lives may be gradually lowered, with a motion\nimperceptible but most real, bringing us down within high-water\nmark, and at last the tide may wash over what was solid land.\n\nSo, dear friends, there is nothing more foolish than for any man to\nstand, self-confident that any form of evil that has conquered his\nbrother has no temptation for him. It may not have for you, under\npresent circumstances; it may not have for you to-day; but, oh!\nwe have all of us one human heart, and 'he that trusteth in his own\nheart is a fool.' 'Blessed is the man that feareth always.' Humble\nself-distrust, consciousness of sleeping sin in my heart that may very\nquickly be stirred into stinging and striking; rigid self-control over\nall these possibilities of evil, are duties dictated by the plainest\ncommon-sense.\n\nDo not say, 'I know when to stop.' Do not say, 'I can go so far; it\nwill not do me any harm.' Many a man has said that, and many a man\nhas been ruined by it. Do not say, 'It is natural to me to have\nthese inclinations and tastes, and there can be no harm in yielding\nto them.' It is perfectly natural for a man to stoop down over the\nedge of a precipice to gather the flowers that are growing in some\ncranny in the cliff; and it is as natural for him to topple over,\nand be smashed to a mummy at the bottom. God gave you your\ndispositions and your whole nature 'under lock and key,'--keep them\nso. And when you hear of, or see, great criminals and great crimes,\nsay to yourself, as the good old Puritan divine said, looking at a\nman going to the scaffold, 'But for the grace of God there go I!'\nAnd in the contemplation of sins and apostasies, let us each look\nhumbly at our own weakness, and pray Him to keep us from our\nbrother's evils which may easily become ours.\n\nII. Secondly, we have here an example of precisely the opposite\nsort, namely, of that fixed determination to do evil which is\nunshaken by the clearest knowledge that it is evil.\n\nJudas heard his crime described in its own ugly reality. He heard\nhis fate proclaimed by lips of absolute love and truth; and\nnotwithstanding both, he comes unmoved and unshaken with his\nquestion. The dogged determination in his heart, that dares to see\nhis evil stripped naked and is 'not ashamed,' is even more dreadful\nthan the hypocrisy and sleek simulation of friendship in his face.\n\nNow most men turn away with horror from even the sins that they are\nwilling to do, when they are put plainly and bluntly before them. As\nan old mediaeval preacher once said, 'There is nothing that is\nweaker than the devil stripped naked.' By which he meant exactly\nthis--that we have to dress wrong in some fantastic costume or\nother, so as to hide its native ugliness, in order to tempt men to\ndo it. So we have two sets of names for wrong things, one of which\nwe apply to our brethren's sins, and the other to the same sins in\nourselves. What I do is 'prudence,' what you do of the same sort is\n'covetousness'; what I do is 'sowing my wild oats,' what you do is\n'immorality' and 'dissipation'; what I do is 'generous living,' what\nyou do is 'drunkenness' and 'gluttony'; what I do is 'righteous\nindignation,' what you do is 'passionate anger.' And so you may go\nthe whole round of evil. Very bad are the men who can look at their\ndeed, described in Its own inherent deformity, and yet say, 'Yes;\nthat is it, and I am going to do it.' 'One of you shall betray Me.'\n'Yes; I will betray you!' It must have taken something to look into\nthe Master's face, and keep the fixed purpose steady.\n\nNow I ask you to think, dear friends, of this, that that obstinate\ncondition of dogged determination to do a wrong thing, knowing it to\nbe a wrong thing, is a condition to which all evil steadily tends.\nWe may not come to it in this world--I do not know that men ever do\nso wholly; but we are all getting towards it in regard to the\nspecial wrong deeds and desires which we cherish and commit. And\nwhen a man has once reached the point of saying to evil, 'Be thou my\ngood,' then he is a 'devil' in the true meaning of the word; and\nwherever he is, he is in hell! And the one unpardonable sin is the\nsin of clear recognition that a given thing is contrary to God's\nwill, and unfaltering determination, notwithstanding, to do it. That\nis the only sin that cannot be pardoned, 'either in this world or in\nthe world to come.'\n\nAnd so, my brother, seeing that such a condition is possible, and\nthat all the paths of evil, however tentative and timorous they may\nbe at first, and however much the sin may be wrapped up with excuses\nand forms and masks, tend to that condition, let us take that old\nprayer upon our lips, which befits both those who distrust\nthemselves because of slumbering sins, and those who dread being\nconquered by manifest iniquity:--'Who can understand his errors?\nCleanse Thou me from secret faults. Keep back Thy servant also from\npresumptuous sins. Let them not have dominion over me.'\n\nIII. Now, lastly, we have in the last question an example of the\npeaceful confidence that comes from communion with Jesus Christ.\n\nJohn leaned on the Master's bosom. 'He was the disciple whom Jesus\nloved.' And so compassed with that great love, and feeling absolute\nsecurity within the enclosure of that strong hand, his question is\nnot, 'Is it I?' but 'Who is it?' From which I think we may fairly\ndraw the conclusion that to feel that Christ loves me, and that I am\ncompassed about by Him, is the true security against my falling into\nany sin.\n\nIt was not John's love to Christ, but Christ's to John that made his\nsafety. He did not say: 'I love Thee so much that I cannot betray\nThee.' For all our feelings and emotions are but variable, and to\nbuild confidence upon them is to build a heavy building upon\nquicksand; the very weight of it drives out the foundations. But he\nthought to himself--or he felt rather than he thought--that all\nabout him lay the sweet, warm, rich atmosphere of his Master's love;\nand to a man who was encompassed by that, treachery was impossible.\n\nSin has no temptation so long as we actually enjoy the greater\nsweetness of Christ's felt love. Would thirty pieces of silver have\nbeen a bribe to John? Would anything that could have terrified\nothers have frightened him from his Master's side whilst he felt His\nlove? Will a handful of imitation jewellery, made out of coloured\nglass and paste, be any temptation to a man who bears a rich diamond\non his finger? And will any of earth's sweetness be a temptation to\na man who lives in the continual consciousness of the great rich\nlove of Christ wrapping him round about? Brethren, not ourselves,\nnot our faith, not our emotion, not our religious experience;\nnothing that is in us, is any security that we may not be tempted,\nand yield to the temptation, and deny or betray our Lord. There is\nonly one thing that is a security, and that is that we be folded to\nthe heart, and held by the hand, of that loving Lord. Then--then we\nmay be confident that we shall not fall; for 'the Lord is able to\nmake us stand.'\n\nSuch confidence is but the other side of our self-distrust; is the\nconstant accompaniment of it, must have that self-distrust for its\ncondition and prerequisite, and leads to a yet deeper and more\nblessed form of that self-distrust. Faith in Him and 'no confidence\nin the flesh' are but the two sides of the same coin, the obverse\nand the reverse. The seed, planted in the ground, sends a little\nrootlet down, and a little spikelet up, by the same vital act. And\nso in our hearts, as it were, the downward rootlet is self-despair,\nand the upward shoot is faith in Christ. The two emotions go\ntogether--the more we distrust ourselves the more we shall rest upon\nHim, and the more we rest upon Him, and feel that all our strength\ncomes, not from our foot, but from the Rock on which it stands, the\nmore we shall distrust our own ability and our own faithfulness.\n\nTherefore, dear brethren, looking upon all the evil that is around\nus, and conscious in some measure of the weakness of our own hearts,\nlet us do as a man would do who stands upon the narrow ledge of a\ncliff, and look sheer down into the depth below, and feels his head\nbegin to reel and turn giddy; let us lay hold of the Guide's hand,\nand if we cleave by Him, He will hold up our goings that our\nfootsteps slip not. Nothing else will. No length of obedient service\nis any guarantee against treachery and rebellion. As John Bunyan\nsaw, there was a backdoor to hell from the gate of the Celestial\nCity. Men have lived for years consistent professing Christians, and\nhave fallen at last. Many a ship has come across half the world, and\ngone to pieces on the harbour bar. Many an army, victorious in a\nhundred fights, has been annihilated at last. No depths of religious\nexperience, no heights of religious blessedness, no attainments of\npast virtue and self-sacrifice, are any guarantees for to-morrow.\nTrust in nothing and in nobody, least of all in yourselves and your\nown past. Trust only in Jesus Christ.\n\n'Now unto Him that is able to keep us from falling, and to present\nus faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy; to\nthe only wise God our Saviour be glory and majesty, dominion and\npower, both now and for ever.' Amen.\n\n\n\n\n'THIS CUP'\n\n\n    'And Jesus took the cup, and grave thanks, and gave it\n    to them, saying, Drink ye all of it; 28. For this is My\n    blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for\n    the remission of sins'--MATT. xxvi. 27, 28.\n\nThe comparative silence of our Lord as to the sacrificial character\nof His death has very often been urged as a reason for doubting that\ndoctrine, and for regarding it as no part of the original Christian\nteaching. That silence may be accounted for by sufficient reasons.\nIt has been very much exaggerated, and those who argue from it\nagainst the doctrine of the Atonement have forgotten that Jesus\nChrist founded the Lord's Supper.\n\nThat rite shows us what He thought, and what He would have us think,\nof His death; and in the presence of its testimony it seems to me\nimpossible to deny that His conception of it was distinctly\nsacrificial. By it He points out the moment of His whole career\nwhich He desires that men should remember. Not His words of\ntenderness and wisdom; not His miracles, amazing and gracious as\nthese were; not the flawless beauty of His character, though it\ntouches all hearts and wins the most rugged to love, and the most\ndegraded to hope; but the moment in which He gave His life is what\nHe would imprint for ever on the memory of the world.\n\nAnd not only so, but in the rite he distinctly tells us in what\naspect He would have that death remembered. Not as the tragic end of\na noble career which might be hallowed by tears such as are shed\nover a martyr's ashes; not as the crowning proof of love; not as the\nsupreme act of patient forgiveness; but as a death for us, in which,\nas by the blood of the sacrifice, is secured the remission of sins.\n\nAnd not only so, but the double symbol in the Lord's Supper--whilst\nin some respects the bread and wine speak the same truths, and\ncertainly point to the same Cross--has in each of its parts special\nlessons intrusted to it, and special truths to proclaim. The bread\nand the wine both say:--'Remember Me and My death.' Taken in\nconjunction they point to that death as violent; taken separately\nthey each suggest various aspects of it, and of the blessings that\nwill flow to us therefrom. And it is my present purpose to bring\nout, as briefly and as clearly as I can, the special lessons which\nour Lord would have us draw from that cup which is the emblem of His\nshed blood.\n\nI. First, then, observe that it speaks to us of a divine treaty or\ncovenant.\n\nAncient Israel had lived for nearly 2000 years under the charter of\ntheir national existence which, as we read in the Old Testament, was\ngiven on Sinai amidst thunderings and lightnings--'Now, therefore,\nif ye will obey My voice indeed, and keep My covenant, then ye shall\nbe a peculiar treasure unto Me above all people; for all the earth\nis Mine, and ye shall be unto Me a kingdom of priests and an holy\nnation.'\n\nAnd that covenant, or agreement, or treaty, on the part of God, was\nratified by a solemn act, in which the blood of the sacrifice,\ndivided into two portions, was sprinkled, one half upon the altar,\nand the other half, after their acceptance of the conditions and\nobligations of the covenant, on the people, who had pledged\nthemselves to obedience.\n\nAnd now, here is a Galilean peasant, in a borrowed upper room,\nwithin four-and-twenty hours of His ignominious death which might\nseem to blast all His work, who steps forward and says, 'I put away\nthat ancient covenant which knits this nation to God. It is\nantiquated. I am the true offering and sacrifice, by the blood of\nwhich, sprinkled on altar and on people, a new covenant, built upon\nbetter promises, shall henceforth be.'\n\nWhat a tremendous piece of audacity, except on the one hypothesis\nthat He that spake was indeed the Word of God; and that He was\nmaking that which Himself had established of old, to give way to\nthat which He establishes now! The new covenant which Christ seals\nin His blood, is the charter, the better charter, under the\nconditions of which, not a nation but the world may find an external\nsalvation which dwarfs all the deliverances of the past. That idea\nof a covenant confirmed by Christ's blood may sound to many hearers\ndry and hard. But if you will try to think what great truths are\nwrapped up in the theological phraseology, you will find them very\nreal and very strong. Is it not a grand thought that between us and\nthe infinite divine Nature there is established a firm and unmovable\nagreement? Then He has revealed His purposes; we are not left to\ngrope in darkness, at the mercy of 'peradventures' and 'probablies';\nnor reduced to consult the ambiguous oracles of nature or of\nProvidence, or the varying voices of our own hearts, or painfully\nand dubiously to construct more or less strong bases for confidence\nin a loving God out of such hints and fragments of revelation as\nthese supply. He has come out of His darkness, and spoken articulate\nwords, plain words, faithful words, which bind Him to a distinctly\ndefined course of action. Across the great ocean of possible modes\nof action for a divine nature He has, if I may so say, buoyed out\nfor Himself a channel, so as that we know His path, which is in the\ndeep waters. He has limited Himself by the utterance of a faithful\nword, and we can now come to Him with His own promise, and cast it\ndown before Him, and say: 'Thou hast spoken, and Thou art bound to\nfulfil it.' We have a covenant wherein God has shown us His hand,\nhas told us what He is going to do and has thereby pledged Himself\nto its performance.\n\nAnd, still further, in order to get the full sweetness of this\nthought, to break the husk and reach to the kernel, you must\nremember what, according to the New Testament, are the conditions of\nthis covenant. The old agreement was, 'If ye will obey My voice and\ndo My commandments, then,'--so and so will happen. The old condition\nwas, 'Do and live; be righteous and blessed!' The new condition is:\n'Take and have; believe and live!' The one was law, the other is\ngift; the one was retribution, the other is forgiveness. One was\noutward, hard, rigid law, fitly 'graven with a pen of iron on the\nrocks for ever'; the other is impulse, love, a power bestowed that\nwill make us obedient; and the sole condition that we have to render\nis the condition of humble and believing acceptance of the divine\ngift. The new covenant, in the exuberant fulness of its mercy, and\nin the tenderness of its gracious purposes, is at once the\ncompletion and the antithesis of the ancient covenant with its\nprecepts and its retribution.\n\nAnd, still further, this 'new covenant,' of which the essence is\nGod's bestowment of Himself on every heart that wills to possess\nHim; this new covenant, according to the teaching of these words of\nmy text and of the symbol to which they refer, is ratified and\nsealed by that great sacrifice. The blood was sprinkled on the\naltar; the blood was sprinkled on the people, which being translated\ninto plain, unmetaphorical language is simply this, that Christ's\ndeath remains for ever present to the divine mind as the great\nreason and motive which modifies His government, and which ensures\nthat His love shall ever find its way to every seeking soul. His\ndeath is the token; His death is the reason; His death is the pledge\nof the unending and the inexhaustible mercy of God bestowed upon\neach of us. 'He that spared not His own Son, shall He not with Him\nalso freely give us all things?' The outward rite with its symbol is\nthe exhibition in visible form of that truth, that the blood of\nJesus Christ seals to the world the infinite mercy of God.\n\nAnd, on the other hand, that same blood of the covenant, sprinkled\nupon the other parties to the treaty, even our poor sinful hearts,\nbinds them to the fulfilment of the condition which belongs to them.\nThat is to say, by the power of that sacrifice there are evoked in\nour poor souls, faith, love, surrender. It, and it alone, knits us\nto God; it, and it alone, binds us to the fulfilment of the\ncovenant. My brother, have you entered into that sweet, solemn,\nsacred alliance and union with God? Have you accepted and fulfilled\nthe conditions? Is your heart 'sprinkled with the blood so freely\nshed for you'; and have you thereby been brought into living\nalliance with the God who has pledged His being and His name to be\nthe all-sufficient God to you?\n\nII. Still further, this cup speaks to us of the forgiveness of sins.\n\nOne theory, and one theory only, as it seems to me, of the meaning\nof Christ's death, is possible if these words of my text ever\ndropped from Christ's lips, or if He ever instituted the rite to\nwhich they refer; He must have believed that His death was a\nsacrifice, without which the sins of the world were not forgiven;\nand by which forgiveness came to us all.\n\nAnd I do not think that we rightly conceive the relation between the\nsacrifices of barbarous heathen tribes, or the sacrifices appointed\nin Israel, and the great sacrifice on the Cross, if we say that our\nLord's death is only figuratively accommodated to these in order to\nmeet lower or grosser conceptions, but rather, I take it, that the\naccommodation is the other way. In all nations beyond the limits of\nIsrael the sacrifices of living victims spoke not only of surrender\nand dependence, but likewise of the consciousness of demerit and\nevil on the part of the offerers, and were at once a confession of\nsin, a prayer for pardon, and a propitiation of an offended God. And\nI believe that the sacrifices in Israel were intended and adapted\nnot only to meet the deep-felt want of human nature, common to them\nas to all other tribes, but also were intended and adapted to point\nonwards to Him in whose death a real want of mankind was met, in\nwhose death a real sacrifice was offered, in whose death an angry\nGod was not indeed propitiated, but in whose death the loving Father\nof our souls Himself provided the Lamb for the offering, without\nwhich, for reasons deeper than we can wholly fathom, it was\nimpossible that sin should be remitted.\n\nI insist upon no theory of an Atonement. I believe there is no\nGospel, worth calling so, worth the preaching, worth your believing,\nor that will ever move the world or purify society, except the\nGospel which begins with the fact of an Atonement, and points to the\nCross as the altar on which the Sacrifice for the sins of the world,\nwithout whose death pardon is impossible, has died for us all.\n\nOh! dear friends, do not let yourselves be confused by the\ndifficulties that beset all human and incomplete statements of the\nphilosophy of the death of Christ; but getting away from these,\ncleave you to the fact that your sins were laid upon Christ, and\nthat He has died for us all; that His death is a sacrifice; His body\nbroken for us; and for the remission of our sins, His blood freely\nshed. Thus, and only thus, will you come to the understanding either\nof the sweetness of His love or of the power of His example; then,\nand only then, shall we know why it was that He elected to be\nremembered, out of all the moments of His life, by that one when He\nhung in weakness upon the Cross, and out of the darkness came the\ncry, 'My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?'\n\nIII. And now, again, let me remind you that this cup speaks likewise\nof a life infused.\n\n'The blood is the life,' says the physiology of the Hebrews. The\nblood is the life, and when men drink of that cup they symbolise the\nfact that Christ's own life and spirit are imparted to them that\nlove Him. 'Except ye eat the flesh, and drink the blood of the Son\nof Man, ye have no life in you.' The very heart of Christ's gift to\nus is the gift of His own very life to be the life of our lives. In\ndeep, mystical reality He Himself passes into our being, and the\n'law of the spirit of life makes us free from the law of sin and\ndeath,' so that we may say: 'He that is joined to the Lord is one\nspirit,' and the humble believing soul may rejoice in this: 'I live,\nyet not I, but Christ liveth in Me.' This is, in one aspect, the\nvery deepest meaning of this Communion rite. As physicians sometimes\ntried to restore life to an almost dead man by the transfusion into\nhis shrunken veins of the fresh warm blood from a young and healthy\nsubject, so into our fevered life, into our corrupted blood, there\nis poured the full tide of the pure and perfect life of Jesus Christ\nHimself, and we live, not by our own power, nor for our own will,\nnor in obedience to our own caprices, but by Him and in Him, and\nwith Him and for Him. This is the heart of Christianity, the\npossession within us of the life, the immortal life of Him that died\nfor us.\n\nMy brother have you that great gift in your heart? Be sure of this,\nthat unless the life of Christ is in you by faith, ye are dead,\n'dead in trespasses and in sins'; dead, and sure to rot away and\ndisintegrate into corruption. The cup of blessing which we drink\nspeaks to us of the transfusion into our spirits of the Spirit of\nJesus Christ.\n\nIV. And lastly, it speaks of a festal gladness.\n\nThe bread says nothing to us of the remission of sins. The broken\nbread proclaims, indeed, our nourishment from Jesus, but falls short\nof the deep and solemn truth that it is the very life-blood of\nChrist Himself which nourishes us and vitalises us. And the bread,\nin like manner, proclaims indeed the fact that we are fed on Him,\nbut says nothing of the joy of that feeding. The wine is the symbol\nof that, and it proclaims to us that the Christian life here on\nearth, just because it is the feeding on and the drinking in of\nJesus Christ, ought ever to be a life of blessedness, of abounding\njoy, by whatsoever darkness, burdens, cares, toils, sorrows, and\nsolitude it may be shaded and saddened. They who live on Christ,\nthey who drink in of His spirit, they should be glad in all\ncircumstances, they, and they alone. We sit at a table, though it be\nin the wilderness, though it be in the presence of our enemies,\nwhere there ought to be joy and the voice of rejoicing.\n\nBut beyond that, as our Master Himself taught these apostles in that\nupper room, this cup points onwards to a future feast. At that\nsolemn hour Jesus stayed His own heart with the vision of the\nperfected kingdom and the glad festival then. So this Communion has\na prophetic element in it, and links on with predictions and\nparables which speak of the 'marriage supper' of the great King, and\nof the time when we shall sit at His table in His kingdom.\n\nFor the past the Lord's Supper speaks of the one sufficient oblation\nand satisfaction for the sins of the whole world. For the present it\nspeaks of life produced and sustained by communion with Jesus\nChrist. And for the future it speaks of the unending, joyful\nsatisfaction of all desires in the 'upper room' of the heavens.\n\nHow unlike, and yet how like to that scene in the upper room at\nJerusalem! From it the sad disciples went out, some of them to deny\ntheir Master; all of them to struggle, to sin, to lose Him from\ntheir sight, to toil, to sorrow, and at last to die. From that other\ntable we shall go no more out, but sit there with Him in full\nfruition of unfailing blessedness and participation of His immortal\nlife for evermore.\n\nDear brethren, these are the lessons, these the hopes, which this\n'blood of the new covenant' teaches and inspires. Have you entered\ninto that covenant with God? Have you made sure work of the\nforgiveness of your sins through His blood? Have you received into\nyour spirits His immortal life? Then you may humbly be confident\nthat, after life's weariness and lonesomeness are past, you will be\nwelcomed to the banqueting hall by the Lord of the feast, and sit\nwith Him and His servants who loved Him at that table and be glad.\n\n\n\n\n'UNTIL THAT DAY'\n\n\n    'I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine,\n    until that day when I drink it new with you in my\n    Father's kingdom.'--MATT. xxvi. 29.\n\nThis remarkable saying of our Lord's is recorded in all of the\naccounts of the institution of the Lord's Supper. The thought\nembodied in it ought to be present in the minds of all who partake\nof that rite. It converts what is primarily a memorial into a\nprophecy. It bids us hope as well as, and because we, remember. The\nlight behind us is cast forward on to the dimness before. So the\nApostle Paul, in his solitary reference to the Communion--which,\nindeed, is an entirely incidental one, and evoked simply by the\ncorruptions in the Corinthian Church, emphasises this prophetic and\nonward-looking aspect of the backward-looking rite when he says, 'Ye\ndo show the Lord's death _till He come_.'\n\nNow, it seems to me that those of us who so strongly hold that the\nCommunion is primarily a simple memorial service, with no mysterious\nor magical efficacy of any sort about it, do rather ignore in our\nordinary thoughts the other aspect which is brought out in my text;\nand that comparative ignoring seems to me to be but a part of a very\nlamentable and general tendency of this day, whereby the prospect of\na future life has become somewhat dimmed and does not fill the place\neither in ordinary Christian thinking, or as a motive for Christian\nservice which the proportion of faith, and the relative importance\nof the present and the future suggest that it ought to fill. The\nChristianity of this day has so much to do with the present life,\nand the thought of the Gospel as a power in the present has been so\nemphasised, in legitimate reaction from the opposite exaggeration,\nthat there is great need, as I believe, to preach to Christian people\nthe wisdom of making more prominent in their faith their immortal\nhope. I wish, then, to turn now to this aspect of the rite which we\nregard as a memorial, and try to emphasise its forward-looking\nattitude, and the large blessed truths that emerge if we consider that.\n\nI. First, let me say just a word about the twin aspect of the\nCommunion as a memorial prophecy, or prophetic remembrance.\n\nNow, I need not remind you, I suppose, that according to the view\nwhich, as I believe, the New Testament takes, and which certainly we\nNonconformists take, of all the rites of external worship, every one\nof them is a prophecy, because every act in which our sense is\nbrought in to reinforce the spirit--and by outward forms, be they\nvocal, or be they manual, or be they of any other sort, we try to\nexpress and to quicken spiritual emotions and intellectual\nconvictions--declares its own imperfection, digs its own grave, and\nprophecies its own resurrection in a nobler and better fashion. Just\nbecause these outward symbols of bread and wine do, through the\nsenses, quicken the faith and the love of the spirit, they declare\nthemselves to be transitory, and they point onwards to the time when\nthat which is perfect shall absorb, and so destroy, that which is in\npart, and when sense shall be no longer necessary as the ally and\nhumble servant of spirit. 'I saw no temple therein.' Temples, and\nrites, and services, and holy days, and all the external apparatus\nof worship, are but scaffolding, and just as the scaffolding round a\nbuilding is a prophecy of its own being pulled down when the\nbuilding is reared and completed, so we cannot partake of these\nexternal symbols rightly, unless we recognise their transiency, and\nfeel that they say to us, 'A mightier than I cometh after me, the\nlatchet of whose shoe I am not worthy to unloose.' The light that\nshines in the dark heralds the day and its own extinction.\n\nSo, looking back we must look forward, and partaking of the symbol,\nwe must reach out to the time when the symbol shall be antiquated,\nthe reality having come. The Passover of Israel did not more truly\npoint onwards to the true Lamb of Sacrifice, and to the true\nPassover that was slain for us, and to its own elevation into the\nLord's Supper of the Christian Church, than the Lord's Supper of the\nChristian Church points onwards to the 'marriage supper of the\nLamb,' and its own cessation.\n\nBut then, again, let me remind you that this prophetic aspect is\ninherent in the memorial aspect of the Communion, because what we\nremember necessarily demands the coming of what we hope. That is to\nsay, if Jesus Christ be what the Lord's Supper says that He is, and\nif He has done what that broken bread and poured out wine proclaim,\naccording to His own utterance, that He has done, then clearly that\ndeath which was for the life of the world, that death which was the\nseal of a covenant, that body broken for the remission of sins, that\nwine partaken of as a reception into ourselves of the very life-blood\nof Jesus Christ, do all demand something far nobler and more perfect\nthan the broken, incomplete obedience and loyalties and communions\nwhich Christian men here exercise and possess.\n\nIf He died, as the rite says that He did, and if dying He left such\na commentary upon His act as that ordinance affords, then He cannot\nhave done with the world; then the powers that were set in motion by\nHis death cannot pause nor cease their action until they have\nreached their appropriate culmination in effecting all that it was\nin them to effect. If, leaving His people, He said to them, 'Never\nforget My death for you, My broken body, and My shed blood,' He\ntherein said that the time will come, must come, when all the powers\nof the Cross shall be incorporated in humanity, and when the parted\nshall be reunited. The Communion would stand as the expression of\nChrist's mistaken estimate of His own importance, if there were not\nbeyond the grave the perfecting of it, and the full appropriation\nand joyful possession of all which the death that it signifies\nbrought to mankind.\n\nTherefore, dear brethren, it seems to me that the best way by which\nChristians can deepen their confidence and brighten their hope in\nthe perfect reunion and blessedness of the heavens, is to increase\nthe firmness of their faith in, and the depth of their apprehension\nof, the sacrifice of the Cross. If the Cross demands the Crown, then\nour surest way to realise as certain our own possession of that\nCrown is to cling very close to that Cross. The more we look\nbackwards to it the more will it fling its light into all the dark\nplaces that are in front of us, and flush the heavens up to the\nseventh and beyond, with the glories that stream from it. Hold fast\nby the Cross, and the more fully, believingly, joyously,\nunfalteringly, we recognise in it the foundation of our salvation,\nthe more gladly, clearly, operatively, shall we cherish the hope\nthat 'the headstone shall be brought forth with shoutings,' and that\nthe imperfect symbolical communion of earth will grow and greaten\ninto complete and real union in eternal bliss.\n\nLet me urge, then, this, that, as a matter of fact, a faith in\neternal glory goes with and fluctuates in the same degree and manner\nas does the faith in the past sacrifice that Christ has made. He,\nand He alone, as I believe, turns nebulae into solidity, and makes\nof the more or less tremulous anticipation of a more or less dim and\ndistant future, a calm, still certainty. We know that He will come\nbecause, and in proportion as, we believe that He has come. Keep\nthese two things, then, always together, the memory and the hope.\nThey stand like two great piers, one on either side of a narrow,\ndark glen, and suspended from them is stretched the bridge, along\nwhich the happy pilgrims may travel and enter into rest.\n\nII. And now, let us turn for a moment to the lovely vision of that\nfuture which is suggested by our text.\n\nThe truest way, I was going to say the only way, by which we can\nhave any conceptions of a condition of being of which we have no\nexperience, is to fall back upon the experiences which we have, and\nuse them as symbols and metaphors. The curtain is the picture. So\nour Lord here, in accordance with the necessary limitations of our\nhuman knowledge, contents Himself with using what lay at His hand,\nand taking it as giving faint shadows and metaphorical suggestions\nas to spiritual blessedness yonder.\n\nThere is one other way, as it seems to me, by which we can in any\nmeasure body forth to ourselves that unknown condition of things,\nand that is to fall back upon our present experiences in another\nfashion, and negative all of them which involve pain and limitation\nand incompleteness. There shall be no night--no sorrow--no tears--no\nsighing, and the like. These negatives of the strong and stinging\ngriefs and limitations of the present are perhaps our second-best\nway of coming to some prophetic vision of that great future.\n\nRemembering, then, that we are dealing with pure metaphor, and that\nthe exact translation of the metaphor into reality is not yet\npossible for us, let us take one or two very plain thoughts out of\nthis great saying--'Until I drink it new with you in My Father's\nkingdom.'\n\nThen, we have to think of the completion of the Christian life\nbeyond, which is also the completion of the results of Christ's\ndeath on the Cross, as being, according to the very frequent\nmetaphor both of the Old and the New Testament, a prolonged\nfestival. I do not need to speak of the details of the thoughts that\nthence emerge. Let me sum them up as briefly as may be. They include\nthe satisfaction of every desire and the nourishment of all\nstrength, and food for every faculty. When we think of the hungry\nhearts that all men carry, and how true it is that even the wisest\nand the holiest of us are 'spending our money for that which is not\nbread, and our labour for that which satisfieth not'; when we think\nof how the choicest foods that life can provide, even for the\nnoblest hunger of noble hearts, are too often to us but as a feeding\non ashes that will leave grit between the teeth and a foul taste\nupon the palate, surely it is blessed to think that we may, after\nall life's disappointments, cherish the hope of a perfect fruition,\nand that yonder, if not here, it will be fully true that 'God never\nsends mouths but He sends meat to feed them.' That is not so in this\nworld, for we all carry hungers which impel us forward to nobler\nliving, and which it would not be good for us to have satisfied\nhere. But, unless the whole universe is a godless chaos, there must\nbe somewhere a state in which a man shall have all that he wants,\nand shall want only what he ought.\n\nThe emblem of a feast suggests also society. The solitary travellers\nwho have been toiling and moiling through the desert all the day\nlong, snatching up a hasty mouthful as they march, and lonely many a\ntime, come together at last, and sit together there joyous and\nunited. Deep down in our hearts some of us have gashes that always\nbleed. We know losses and loneliness, and we can feel, I hope, how\nblessed is the thought that all the wanderers shall sit there\ntogether, and rejoice in each other's communion, 'and so shall\n_we_ ever be with the Lord.'\n\nBut besides satisfaction and society the figure suggests repose.\nThat rest is not indolence, for we have to carry other metaphors\nwith us in order to come to the full significance of this one, and\nthe festal imagery is not all that we have to take into account; for\nwe read, 'I grant unto you a kingdom, and ye shall sit on twelve\nthrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel,' as well as 'ye shall\neat and drink with Me at My table in My kingdom.' So repose, which\nis consistent and coexistent with the intensest activity, is the\ngreat hope that comes out of these metaphors. But for many of us--I\nsuppose for all of us elderly people--who are about weary of work\nand worry, there is no deeper hope than the hope of rest. 'I have\nhad labour enough for one,' says one of our poets. And I think there\nis something in most of our hearts that echoes that and rejoices to\nhear that, after the long march, 'ye shall sit with Me at My table.'\n\nBut besides satisfaction, society, and rest, the figure suggests\ngladness. Wine is the emblem of the joyous side of a feast, just as\nbread is the emblem of the necessary nourishment. And it is\n_new_ wine; joy raised to a higher power, transformed and\nglorified; and yet the old emotion in a new form. As for that\ngladness, 'eye hath not seen, neither hath it entered into the heart\nof man to conceive, the things that God hath prepared for them that\nlove Him.' Only all we weary, heavy-laden, saddened, anxious,\ndisappointed, tormented people may hope for these festal joys, if we\nare Christ's. The feast will last when all the troubles and the\ncares which helped us to it are dead and buried and forgotten.\n\nThese four things, brethren--satisfaction, society, rest, new\ngladness--are proclaimed and prophesied to each of us, if we will,\nby this memorial rite.\n\nAgain, there comes from this aspect of the Communion the thought\nthat the blessed condition of the Christian soul hereafter is a\nfeast on a sacrifice. We must distinguish between the sense in which\nour Lord drinks with us, and the sense in which we alone partake of\nthat feast of which He provides the viands. But just as in the\nsymbolic ordinance of the Communion the very essence of it is that\nwhat was offered as sacrifice is now incorporated into the\nparticipant's spiritual being, and becomes part of himself, and the\nlife of his life, so, in the future, all the blessedness of the\nclustered and constellated joys of that life, which is one eternal\nfestival, shall arise from the reception into perfected spirits with\never-growing greatness and blessedness of the Christ that died and\never lives for them. That heavenly glory, to its highest pinnacle of\naspiration, to its most rapt completeness of gladness, is all the\nconsequence of Christ's death on the Cross. That death, which we\ncommemorate, is the procuring cause of man's entrance into bliss,\nand that death is the subject of the continual, grateful remembrance\nof the saints in the seventh heaven of their glory. Life yonder, as\nall true life here, consists in taking into ourselves the life of\nJesus Christ, and the law for heaven is the same as the law for\nearth, 'He that eateth Me, even he shall live by Me.'\n\nLastly, the conception of the future for Christian souls arising\nfrom this aspect of the Lord's Supper is that it is not only a\nfeast, and a feast on a sacrifice, but that it is a feast with the\nKing.\n\n'_With you_ I will drink it.' Brethren, we pass beyond metaphor when\nwe gather up and condense all the vague brightness and glories of that\nperfect future into this one rapturous, overwhelming, all-embracing\nthought: 'So shall we ever be with the Lord.' I could almost wish\nthat Christian people had no other thought of that future than this,\nfor surely in its grand simplicity, in its ineffable depth, there lie\nthe germs of every blessedness. How poor all the material emblems are\nof which sensuous imaginations make so much, when compared with that\nhope! As the good old hymn has it, which to me says more, in its bold\nsimplicity, than all the sentimental enlargements of Scriptural\nmetaphors which some people admire so much--\n\n  'It is enough that Christ knows all,\n   And I shall be with Him.'\n\nStrange that He says, 'I will drink it _with you._' Does He\nneed sustenance? Does He need any external things in order to make\nHis feast? No! and Yes! 'I will sup with Him' as well as 'He with\nme.' And, surely, His meat and drink are the love, the loyalty, the\nobedience, the receptiveness, the society of His redeemed children.\n'The joy of the Lord' comes from 'seeing of the travail of His\nsoul,' and His servants do enter into that joy in deep and wondrous\nfashion. We not only shall live on Christ, but He Himself puts to\nHis own lips the chalice that He commends to ours, and in marvellous\ncondescension to, and identity with, our glorified humanity drinks\nwith us the 'new wine' in the Father's kingdom.\n\n\n\n\nGETHSEMANE, THE OIL-PRESS\n\n\n    'Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called\n    Gethsemane, and saith unto the disciples, Sit ye here,\n    while I go and pray yonder. 37. And He took with Him\n    Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be\n    sorrowful and very heavy. 38. Then saith He unto them,\n    My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry\n    ye here, and watch with Me. 39. And He went a little\n    farther, and fell on His face, and prayed, saying, O My\n    Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me:\n    nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt. 40. And\n    He cometh unto the disciples, and findeth them asleep,\n    and saith unto Peter, What, could ye not watch with Me\n    one hour! 41. Watch and pray, that ye enter not into\n    temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh\n    is weak. 42. He went away again the second time, and\n    prayed, saying, O My Father, if this cup may not pass\n    away from Me, except I drink it, Thy will be done.\n    43. And He came and found them asleep again: for their\n    eyes were heavy. 44. And He left them, and went away\n    again, and prayed the third time, saying the same words.\n    45. Then cometh He to His disciples, and saith unto\n    them, Sleep on now, and take your rest: behold, the\n    hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into\n    the hands of sinners. 46. Rise, let us be going: behold,\n    he is at hand that doth betray Me.'--MATT. xxvi. 36-46.\n\nOne shrinks from touching this incomparable picture of unexampled\nsorrow, for fear lest one's finger-marks should stain it. There is\nno place here for picturesque description, which tries to mend the\ngospel stories by dressing them in to-day's fashions, nor for\ntheological systematisers and analysers of the sort that would\n'botanise upon their mother's grave.' We must put off our shoes, and\nfeel that we stand on holy ground. Though loving eyes saw something\nof Christ's agony, He did not let them come beside Him, but withdrew\ninto the shadow of the gnarled olives, as if even the moonbeams must\nnot look too closely on the mystery of such grief. We may go as near\nas love was allowed to go, but stop where it was stayed, while we\nreverently and adoringly listen to what the Evangelist tells us of\nthat unspeakable hour.\n\nI. Mark the 'exceeding sorrow' of the Man of Sorrows. Somewhere on\nthe western foot of Olivet lay the garden, named from an oil-press\nformerly or then in it, which was to be the scene of the holiest and\nsorest sorrow on which the moon, that has seen so much misery, has\never looked. Truly it was 'an oil-press,' in which 'the good olive'\nwas crushed by the grip of unparalleled agony, and yielded precious\noil, which has been poured into many a wound since then. Eight of\nthe eleven are left at or near the entrance, while He passes deeper\ninto the shadows with the three. They had been witnesses of His\nprayers once before, on the slopes of Hermon, when He was\ntransfigured before them. They are now to see a no less wonderful\nrevelation of His glory in His filial submission. There is something\nremarkable in Matthew's expression, 'He began to be sorrowful,'--as\nif a sudden wave of emotion, breaking over His soul, had swept His\nhuman sensibilities before it. The strange word translated by the\nRevisers 'sore troubled' is of uncertain derivation, and may\npossibly be simply intended to intensify the idea of sorrow; but\nmore probably it adds another element, which Bishop Lightfoot\ndescribes as 'the confused, restless, half-distracted state which is\nproduced by physical derangement or mental distress.' A storm of\nagitation and bewilderment broke His calm, and forced from His\npatient lips, little wont to speak of His own emotions, or to seek\nfor sympathy, the unutterably pathetic cry, 'My soul is exceeding\nsorrowful'--compassed about with sorrow, as the word means--'even\nunto death.' No feeble explanation of these words does justice to\nthe abyss of woe into which they let us dimly look. They tell the\nfact, that, a little more and the body would have sunk under the\nburden. He knew the limits of human endurance, for 'all things were\nmade by Him,' and, knowing it, He saw that He had grazed the very\nedge. Out of the darkness He reaches a hand to feel for the grasp of\na friend, and piteously asks these humble lovers to stay beside Him,\nnot that they could help Him to bear the weight, but that their\npresence had some solace in it. His agony must be endured alone,\ntherefore He bade them tarry there; but He desired to have them at\nhand, therefore He went but 'a little forward.' They could not bear\nit with Him, but they could 'watch with' Him, and that poor comfort\nis all He asks. No word came from them. They were, no doubt, awed\ninto silence, as the truest sympathy is used to be, in the presence\nof a great grief. Is it permitted us to ask what were the fountains\nof these bitter floods that swept over Christ's sinless soul? Was\nthe mere physical shrinking from death all? If so, we may reverently\nsay that many a maiden and old man, who drew all their fortitude\nfrom Jesus, have gone to stake or gibbet for His sake, with a calm\nwhich contrasts strangely with His agitation. Gethsemane is robbed\nof its pathos and nobleness if that be all. But it was not all.\nRather it was the least bitter of the components of the cup. What\nlay before Him was not merely death, but the death which was to\natone for a world's sin, and in which, therefore, the whole weight\nof sin's consequences was concentrated. 'The Lord hath made to meet\non Him the iniquities of us all'; that is the one sufficient\nexplanation of this infinitely solemn and tender scene. Unless we\nbelieve that, we shall find it hard to reconcile His agitation in\nGethsemane with the perfection of His character as the captain of\n'the noble army of martyrs.'\n\nII. Note the prayer of filial submission. Matthew does not tell us\nof the sweat falling audibly and heavily, and sounding to the three\nlike slow blood-drops from a wound, nor of the strengthening angel,\nbut he gives us the prostrate form, and the threefold prayer,\nrenewed as each moment of calm, won by it, was again broken in upon\nby a fresh wave of emotion. Thrice He had to leave the disciples,\nand came back, a calm conqueror; and twice the enemy rallied and\nreturned to the assault, and was at last driven finally from the\nfield by the power of prayer and submission. The three Synoptics\ndiffer in their report of our Lord's words, but all mean the same\nthing in substance; and it is obvious that much more must have been\nspoken than they report. Possibly what we have is only the fragments\nthat reached the three before they fell asleep. In any case, Jesus\nwas absent from them on each occasion long enough to allow of their\ndoing so.\n\nThree elements are distinguishable in our Lord's prayer. There is,\nfirst, the sense of Sonship, which underlies all, and was never more\nclear than at that awful moment. Then there is the recoil from 'the\ncup,' which natural instinct could not but feel, though sinlessly.\nThe flesh shrank from the Cross, which else had been no suffering;\nand if no suffering, then had been no atonement. His manhood would\nnot have been like ours, nor His sorrows our pattern, if He had not\nthus drawn back, in His sensitive humanity, from the awful prospect\nnow so near. But natural instinct is one thing, and the controlling\nwill another. However currents may have tossed the vessel, the firm\nhand at the helm never suffered them to change her course. The will,\nwhich in this prayer He seems so strangely to separate from the\nFather's, even in the act of submission, was the will which wishes,\nnot that which resolves. His fixed purpose to die for the world's\nsin never wavered. The shrinking does not reach the point of\nabsolutely and unconditionally asking that the cup might pass. Even\nin the act of uttering the wish, it is limited by that 'if it be\npossible,' which can only mean--possible, in view of the great\npurpose for which He came. That is to be accomplished, at any cost;\nand unless it can be accomplished though the cup be withdrawn, He\ndoes not even wish, much less will, that it should be withdrawn. So,\nthe third element in the prayer is the utter resignation to the\nFather's will, in which submission He found peace, as we do.\n\nHe prayed His way to perfect calm, which is ever the companion of\nperfect self-surrender to God. They who cease from their own works\ndo 'enter into rest.' All the agitations which had come storming in\nmassed battalions against Him are defeated by it. They have failed\nto shake His purpose, they now fail even to disturb His peace. So,\nvictorious from the dreadful conflict, and at leisure of heart to\ncare for others, He can go back to the disciples. But even whilst\nseeking to help them, a fresh wave of suffering breaks in on His\ncalm, and once again He leaves them to renew the struggle. The\ninstinctive shrinking reasserts itself, and, though overcome, is not\neradicated. But the second prayer is yet more rooted in acquiescence\nthan the first. It shows that He had not lost what He had won by the\nformer; for it, as it were, builds on that first supplication, and\naccepts as answer to its contingent petition the consciousness,\naccompanying the calm, that it was not possible for the cup to pass\nfrom Him. The sense of Sonship underlies the complete resignation of\nthe second prayer as of the first. It has no wish but God's will,\nand is the voluntary offering of Himself. Here He is both Priest and\nSacrifice, and offers the victim with this prayer of consecration.\nSo once more He triumphs, because once more, and yet more\ncompletely, He submits, and accepts the Cross. For Him, as for us,\nthe Cross accepted ceases to be a pain, and the cup is no more\nbitter when we are content to drink it. Once more in fainter fashion\nthe enemy came on, casting again his spent arrows, and beaten back\nby the same weapon. The words were the same, because no others could\nhave expressed more perfectly the submission which was the heart of\nHis prayers and the condition of His victory.\n\nChrist's prayer, then, was not for the passing of the cup, but that\nthe will of God might be done in and by Him, and 'He was heard in\nthat He feared,' not by being exempted from the Cross, but by being\nstrengthened through submission for submission. So His agony is the\npattern of all true prayer, which must ever deal with our wishes, as\nHe did with His instinctive shrinking,--present them wrapped in an\n'if it be possible,' and followed by a 'nevertheless.' The meaning\nof prayer is not to force our wills on God's, but to bend our wills\nto His; and that prayer is really answered of which the issue is our\ncalm readiness for all that He lays upon us.\n\nIII. Note the sad and gentle remonstrance with the drowsy three.\n'The sleep of the disciples, and of these disciples, and of all\nthree, and such an overpowering sleep, remains even after Luke's\nexplanation, \"for sorrow,\" a psychological riddle' (_Meyer_).\nIt is singularly parallel with the sleep of the same three at the\nTransfiguration--an event which presents the opposite pole of our\nLord's experiences, and yields so many antithetical parallels to\nGethsemane. No doubt the tension of emotion, which had lasted for\nmany hours, had worn them out; but, if weariness had weighed down\ntheir eyelids, love should have kept them open. Such sleep of such\ndisciples may have been a riddle, but it was also a crime, and\naugured imperfect sympathy. Gentle surprise and the pain of\ndisappointed love are audible in the question, addressed to Peter\nespecially, as he had promised so much, but meant for all. This was\nall that Jesus got in answer to His yearning for sympathy. 'I looked\nfor some to take pity, but there was none.' Those who loved Him most\nlay curled in dead slumber within earshot of His prayers. If ever a\nsoul tasted the desolation of utter loneliness, that suppliant\nbeneath the olives tasted it. But how little of the pain escapes His\nlips! The words but hint at the slightness of their task compared\nwith His, at the brevity of the strain on their love, and at the\ncompanionship which ought to have made sleep impossible. May we not\nsee in Christ's remonstrance a word for all? For us, too, the task\nof keeping awake in the enchanted ground is light, measured against\nHis, and the time is short, and we have Him to keep us company in\nthe watch, and every motive of grateful love should make it easy;\nbut, alas, how many of us sleep a drugged and heavy slumber!\n\nThe gentle remonstrance soon passes over into counsel as gentle.\nWatchfulness and prayer are inseparable. The one discerns dangers,\nthe other arms against them. Watchfulness keeps us prayerful, and\nprayerfulness keeps us watchful. To watch without praying is\npresumption, to pray without watching is hypocrisy. The eye that\nsees clearly the facts of life will turn upwards from its scanning\nof the snares and traps, and will not look in vain. These two are\nthe indispensable conditions of victorious encountering of\ntemptation. Fortified by them, we shall not 'enter into' it, though\nwe encounter it. The outward trial will remain, but its power to\nlead us astray will vanish. It will still be danger or sorrow, but\nit will not be temptation; and we shall pass through it, as a\nsunbeam through foul air, untainted, and keeping heaven's radiance.\nThat is a lesson for a wider circle than the sleepy three.\n\nIt is followed by words which would need a volume to expound in all\ntheir depth and width of application, but which are primarily a\nreason for the preceding counsel, as well as a loving apology for\nthe disciples' sleep. Christ is always glad to give us credit for\neven imperfect good; His eye, which sees deeper than ours, sees more\nlovingly, and is not hindered from marking the willing spirit by\nrecognising weak flesh. But these words are not to be made a pillow\nfor indolent acquiescence in the limitations which the flesh imposes\non the spirit. He may take merciful count of these, and so may we,\nin judging others, but it is fatal to plead them at the bar of our\nown consciences. Rather they should be a spur to our watchfulness\nand to our prayer. We need these because the flesh is weak, still\nmore because, in its weakness toward good, it is strong to evil.\nSuch exercise will give governing power to the spirit, and enable it\nto impose its will on the reluctant flesh. If we watch and pray, the\nconflict between these two elements in the renewed nature will tend\nto unity and peace by the supremacy of the spirit; if we do not, it\nwill tend to cease by the unquestioned tyranny of the flesh. In one\nor other direction our lives are tending.\n\nStrange that such words had no effect. But so it was, and so deep\nwas the apostles' sleep that Christ left them undisturbed the second\ntime. The relapse is worse than the original disease. Sleep broken\nand resumed is more torpid and fatal than if it had not been\ninterrupted. We do not know how long it lasted, though the whole\nperiod in the garden must have been measured by hours; but at last\nit was broken by the enigmatical last words of our Lord. The\nexplanation of the direct opposition between the consecutive\nsentences, by taking the 'Sleep on now' as ironical, jars on one's\nreverence. Surely irony is out of keeping with the spirit of Christ\nthen. Rather He bids them sleep on, since the hour is come, in sad\nrecognition that the need for their watchful sympathy is past, and\nwith it the opportunity for their proved affection. It is said with\na tone of contemplative melancholy, and is almost equivalent to 'too\nlate, too late.' The memorable sermon of F. W. Robertson, on this\ntext, rightly grasps the spirit of the first clause, when it dwells\nwith such power on the thought of 'the irrevocable past' of wasted\nopportunities and neglected duty. But the sudden transition to the\nsharp, short command and broken sentences of the last verse is to be\naccounted for by the sudden appearance of the flashing lights of the\nband led by Judas, somewhere near at hand, in the valley. The mood\nof pensive reflection gives place to rapid decision. He summons them\nto arise, not for flight, but that He may go out to meet the\ntraitor. Escape would have been easy. There was time to reach some\nsheltering fold of the hill in the darkness; but the prayer beneath\nthe silver-grey olives had not been in vain, and these last words in\nGethsemane throb with the Son's willingness to yield Himself up, and\nto empty to its dregs the cup which the Father had given Him.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LAST PLEADING OF LOVE\n\n\n    'And Jesus said unto him, Friend, wherefore art thou\n    come?'--MATT. xxvi. 50.\n\nWe are accustomed to think of the betrayer of our Lord as a kind of\nmonster, whose crime is so mysterious in its atrocity as to put him\nbeyond the pale of human sympathy. The awful picture which the great\nItalian poet draws of him as alone in hell, shunned even there, as\nguilty beyond all others, expresses the general feeling about him.\nAnd even the attempts which have been made to diminish the greatness\nof his guilt, by supposing that his motive was only to precipitate\nChrist's assumption of His conquering Messianic power, are prompted\nby the same thought that such treason as his is all but\ninconceivable. I cannot but think that these attempts fail, and that\nthe narratives of the Gospels oblige us to think of his crime as\ndeliberate treachery. But even when so regarded, other emotions than\nwondering loathing should be excited by the awful story.\n\nThere had been nothing in his previous history to suggest such sin,\nas is proved by the disciples' question, when our Lord announced\nthat one of them should betray Him. No suspicion lighted on him--no\nfinger pointed to where he sat. But self-distrust asked, 'Lord, is\nit I?' and only love, pillowed on the Master's breast, and strong in\nthe happy sense of His love, was sufficiently assured of its own\nconstancy, to change the question into 'Lord! who is it?' The\nprocess of corruption was unseen by all eyes but Christ's. He came\nto his terrible pre-eminence in crime by slow degrees, and by paths\nwhich we may all tread. As for his guilt, that is in other hands\nthan ours. As for his fate, let us copy the solemn and pitying\nreticence of Peter, and say, 'that he might go to _his own_\nplace'--the place that belongs to him, and that he is fit for,\nwherever that may be. As for the growth and development of his sin,\nlet us remember that 'we have all of us one human heart,' and that\nthe possibilities of crime as dark are in us all. And instead of\nshuddering abhorrence at a sin that can scarcely be understood, and\ncan never be repeated, let us be sure that whatever man has done,\nman may do, and ask with humble consciousness of our own deceitful\nhearts, 'Lord, is it I?'\n\nThese remarkable and solemn words of Christ, with which He meets the\ntreacherous kiss, appear to be a last appeal to Judas. They may\npossibly not be a question, as in our version--but an incomplete\nsentence, 'What thou hast come to do'--leaving the implied command,\n'That do,' unexpressed. They would then be very like other words\nwhich the betrayer had heard but an hour or two before, 'That thou\ndoest, do quickly.' But such a rendering does not seem so\nappropriate to the circumstances as that which makes them a\nquestion, smiting on his heart and conscience, and seeking to tear\naway the veil of sophistications with which he had draped from his\nown eyes the hideous shape of his crime. And, if so, what a\nwonderful instance we have here of that long-suffering love. They\nare the last effort of the divine patience to win back even the\ntraitor. They show us the wrestle between infinite mercy and a\ntreacherous, sinful heart, and they bring into awful prominence the\npower which that heart has of rejecting the counsel of God against\nitself. I venture to use them now as suggesting these three things:\nthe patience of Christ's love; the pleading of Christ's love; and\nthe refusal of Christ's love.\n\nI. The patience of Christ's love.\n\nIf we take no higher view of this most pathetic incident than that the\nwords come from a man's lips, even then all its beauty will not be\nlost. There are some sins against friendship in which the manner is\nharder to bear than the substance of the evil. It must have been a\nstrangely mean and dastardly nature, as well as a coarse and cold one,\nthat could think of fixing on the kiss of affection as the concerted\nsign to point out their victim to the legionaries. Many a man who\ncould have planned and executed the treason would have shrunk from\nthat. And many a man who could have borne to be betrayed by his own\nfamiliar friend would have found that heartless insult worse to endure\nthan the treason itself. But what a picture of perfect patience and\nunruffled calm we have here, in that the answer to the poisonous,\nhypocritical embrace was these moving words! The touch of the traitor's\nlips has barely left His cheek, but not one faint passing flush of\nanger tinges it. He is perfectly self-oblivious--absorbed in other\nthoughts, and among them in pity for the guilty wretch before Him.\nHis words have no agitation in them, no instinctive recoil from the\npollution of such a salutation. They have grave rebuke, but it is\nrebuke which derives its very force from the appeal to former\ncompanionship. Christ still recognises the ancient bond, and is true\nto it. He will still plead with this man who has been beside Him long;\nand though His heart be wounded yet He is not wroth, and He will not\ncast him off. If this were nothing more than a picture of human\nfriendship it would stand alone, above all other records that the\nworld cherishes in its inmost heart, of the love that never fails, and\nis not soon angry.\n\nBut we, I hope, dear brethren, think more loftily and more truly of\nour dear Lord than as simply a perfect manhood, the exemplar of all\ngoodness. How He comes to be that, if He be not more than that, I do\nnot understand, and I, for one, feel that my confidence in the\nflawless completeness of His human character lives or dies with my\nbelief that He is the Eternal Word, God manifest in the flesh.\nCertainly we shall never truly grasp the blessed meaning of His life\non earth until we look upon it all as the revelation of God. The\ntears of Christ are the pity of God. The gentleness of Jesus is the\nlong-suffering of God. The tenderness of Jesus is the love of God.\n'He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father'; and all that life so\nbeautiful but so anomalous as to be all but incredible, when we\nthink of it as only the life of a man, glows with a yet fairer\nbeauty, and corresponds with the nature which it expresses, when we\nthink of it as being the declaration to us by the divine Son of the\ndivine Father--our loftiest, clearest, and authentic revelation of\nGod.\n\nHow that thought lifts these words before us into a still higher\nregion! We are now in the presence of the solemn greatness of a\ndivine love. If the meaning of this saying is what we have\nsuggested, it is pathetic even in the lower aspect, but how\ninfinitely that pathos is deepened when we view it in the higher!\n\nSurely if ever there was a man who might have been supposed to be\nexcluded from the love of God, it was Judas. Surely if ever there\nwas a moment in a human life, when one might have supposed that even\nChrist's ever open heart would shut itself together against any one,\nit was this moment. But no, the betrayer in the very instant of his\ntreason has that changeless tenderness lingering around him, and\nthat merciful hand beckoning to him still.\n\nAnd have we not a right to generalise this wonderful fact, and to\ndeclare its teaching to be--that the love of God is extended to us\nall, and cannot be made to turn away from us by any sins of ours?\nSin is mighty; it can work endless evils on us; it can disturb and\nembitter all our relations with God; it can, as we shall presently\nhave to point out, make it necessary for the tenderest 'grace of God\nto come disciplining'--to 'come with a rod,' just because it comes\nin 'the spirit of meekness.' But one thing it cannot do, and that\nis--make God cease to love us. I suppose all human affection can be\nworn out by constant failure to evoke a response from cold hearts. I\nsuppose that it can be so nipped by frosts, so constantly checked in\nblossoming, that it shrivels and dies. I suppose that constant\ningratitude, constant indifference can turn the warmest springs of\nour love to a river of ice. 'Can a mother forget her child?--Yea,\nshe may forget.' But we have to do with a God, whose love is His\nvery being; who loves us not for reasons in us but in Himself; whose\nlove is eternal and boundless as all His nature; whose love,\ntherefore, cannot be turned away by our sin--but abides with us for\never, and is granted to every soul of man. Dear brethren, we cannot\nbelieve too firmly, we cannot trust too absolutely, we cannot\nproclaim too broadly that blessed thought, without which we have no\nhope to feed on for ourselves, or to share with our fellows--the\nuniversal love of God in Christ.\n\nIs there a _worst_ man on earth at this moment? If there be,\nhe, too, has a share in that love. Harlots and thieves, publicans\nand sinners, leprous outcasts, and souls tormented by unclean\nspirits, the wrecks of humanity whom decent society and respectable\nChristianity passes by with averted head and uplifted hands,\ncriminals on the gibbet with the rope round their necks--and those\nwho are as hopeless as any of these, self-complacent formalists and\n'Gospel-hardened professors'--all have a place in that heart. And\nthat, not as undistinguished members of a class, but as separate\nsouls, singly the objects of God's knowledge and love. He loves all,\nbecause He loves each. We are not massed together in His view, nor\nin His regard. He does not lose the details in the whole; as we,\nlooking on some great crowd of upturned faces, are conscious of all\nbut recognise no single one. He does not love a class--a world--but\nHe loves the single souls that make it up--you and me, and every one\nof the millions that we throw together in the vague phrase, 'the\nrace.' Let us individualise that love in our thoughts as it\nindividualises us in its outflow--and make our own the 'exceeding\nbroad' promises, which include us, too. 'God loves _me_; Christ\ngave Himself for _me_. _I_ have a place in that royal, tender\nheart.'\n\nNor should any sin make us doubt this. He loved us with exceeding\nlove, even when we were 'dead in trespasses.' He did not begin to\nlove because of anything in us; He will not cease because of\nanything in us. We change; 'He abideth faithful, He cannot deny\nHimself.' As the sunshine pours down as willingly and abundantly on\nfilth and dunghills, as on gold that glitters in its beam, and\njewels that flash back its lustre, so the light and warmth of that\nunsetting and unexhausted source of life pours down 'on the\nunthankful and on the good.' The great ocean clasps some black and\nbarren crag that frowns against it, as closely as with its waves it\nkisses some fair strand enamelled with flowers and fragrant with\nperfumes. So that sea of love in which we 'live, and move, and have\nour being,' encircles the worst with abundant flow. He Himself sets\nus the pattern, which to imitate is to be the children of 'our\nFather which is in heaven,' in that He loves His enemies, blessing\nthem that curse, and doing good to them that hate. He Himself is\nwhat He has enjoined us to be, in that He feeds His enemies when\nthey hunger, and when they thirst gives them drink, heaping coals of\nfire on their heads, and seeking to kindle in them thereby the glow\nof answering love, not being overcome of their evil, so that He\nrepays hate with hate and scorn with scorn, but in patient\ncontinuance of loving kindness seeking to overcome evil with good.\nHe is Himself that 'charity' which 'is not easily provoked, is not\nsoon angry, beareth all things, hopeth all things, and never\nfaileth.' His love is mightier than all our sins, and waits not on\nour merits, nor is turned away by our iniquities. 'God so loved the\nworld that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth\nin Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.'\n\nII. Then, secondly, we have here--the pleading of Christ's patient\nlove.\n\nI have been trying to say as broadly and strongly as I can, that our\nsins do not turn away the love of God in Christ from us. The more\nearnestly we believe and proclaim that, the more needful is it to\nset forth distinctly--and that not as limiting, but as explaining\nthe truth--the other thought, that the sin which does not avert,\ndoes modify the expression of, the love of God. Man's sin compels\nHim to do what the prophet calls his 'strange work'--the work which\nis not dear to His heart, nor natural, if one may so say, to His\nhands--His work of judgment.\n\nThe love of Christ has to come to sinful men with patient pleading\nand remonstrance, that it may enter their hearts and give its\nblessings. We are familiar with a modern work of art in which that\nlong-suffering appeal is wonderfully portrayed. He who is the Light\nof the world stands, girded with the royal mantle clasped with the\npriestly breastplate, bearing in His hand the lamp of truth, and\nthere, amidst the dew of night and the rank hemlock, He pleads for\nentrance at the closed door which has no handle on its outer side,\nand is hinged to open only from within. 'I stand at the door and\nknock. If any man open the door, I will come in.'\n\nAnd in this incident before us, we see represented not only the\nendless patience of God's pitying love, but the method which it\nneeds to take in order to reach the heart.\n\nThere is an appeal to the traitor's heart, and an appeal to his\nconscience. Christ would have him think of the relations that have\nso long subsisted between them; and He would have him think, too, of\nthe real nature of the deed he is doing, or, perhaps, of the motives\nthat impel him. The grave, sad word, by which He addresses him, is\nmeant to smite upon his heart. The sharp question which He puts to\nhim is meant to wake up his conscience; and both taken together\nrepresent the two chief classes of remonstrance which He brings to\nbear upon us all--the two great batteries from which He assails the\nfortress of our sins.\n\nThere is first, then--Christ's appeal to the heart. He tries to make\nJudas feel the considerations that should restrain him. The\nappellation by which our Lord addresses him does not in the original\nconvey quite so strongly the idea of amity, as our word 'Friend'\ndoes. It is not the same as that which He had used a few hours\nbefore in the upper chamber, when He said, 'Henceforth I call you\nnot servants, but I have called you friends.--Ye are My friends if\nye do whatsoever I command you.' It is the same as is put into the\nlips of the Lord of the vineyard, remonstrating with his jealous\nlabourer, 'Friend, I do thee no wrong.' There is a tone, then, of\nless intimate association and graver rebuke in it than in that name\nwith which He honours those who make His will theirs, and His word\nthe law of their lives. It does not speak of close confidence, but\nit does suggest companionship and kindness on the part of the\nspeaker. There is rebuke in it, but it is rebuke which derives its\nwhole force from the remembrance of ancient concord and connection.\nOur Lord would recall to the memory of the betrayer the days in\nwhich they had taken sweet counsel together. It is as if He had\nsaid--'Hast thou forgotten all our former intercourse? Thou hast\neaten My bread, thou hast been Mine own familiar friend, in whom I\ntrusted--canst thou lift up thy heel against Me?' What happy hours\nof quiet fellowship on many a journey, of rest together after many a\nday of toil, what forgotten thoughts of the loving devotion and the\nglow of glad consecration that he had once felt, what a long series\nof proofs of Christ's gentle goodness and meek wisdom should have\nsprung again to remembrance at such an appeal! And how black and\ndastardly would his guilt have seemed if once he had ventured to\nremember what unexampled friendship he was sinning against!\n\nIs it not so with us all, dear brethren? All our evils are betrayals\nof Christ, and all our betrayals of Christ are sins against a\nperfect friendship and an unvaried goodness. We, too, have sat at\nHis table, heard His wisdom, seen His miracles, listened to His\npleadings, have had a place in His heart; and if we turn away from\nHim to do our own pleasure, and sell His love for a handful of\nsilver, we need not cherish shuddering abhorrence against that poor\nwretch who gave Him up to the cross. Oh! if we could see aright, we\nshould see our Saviour's meek, sad face standing between us and each\nof our sins, with warning in the pitying eyes, and His pleading\nvoice would sound in our ears, appealing to us by loving\nremembrances of His ancient friendship, to turn from the evil which\nis treason against Him, and wounds His heart as much as it harms\nours. Take heed lest in condemning the traitor we doom ourselves. If\nwe flush into anger at the meanness of his crime, and declare, 'He\nshall surely die,' do we not hear a prophet's voice saying to each,\n'Thou art the man'?\n\nThe loving hand laid on the heart-strings is followed by a strong\nstroke on conscience. The heart vibrates most readily in answer to\ngentle touches: the conscience, in answer to heavier, as the breath\nthat wakes the chords of an Aeolian harp would pass silent through\nthe brass of a trumpet. 'Wherefore art thou come?'--if to be taken\nas a question at all, which, as I have said, seems most natural, is\neither, 'What hast thou come to do?'--or, 'Why hast thou come to do\nit?' Perhaps it maybe fairly taken as including both. But, at all\nevents, it is clearly an appeal to Judas to make him see what his\nconduct really is in itself, and possibly in its motive too. And\nthis is the constant effort of the love of Christ--to get us to say\nto ourselves the real name of what we are about.\n\nWe cloak our sins from ourselves with many wrappings, as they swathe\na mummy in voluminous folds. And of these veils, one of the thickest\nis woven by our misuse of words to describe the very same thing by\ndifferent names, according as we do it, or another man does it.\nAlmost all moral actions--the thing to which we can apply the words\nright or wrong--have two or more names, of which the one suggests\nthe better and the other the worse side of the action. For instance\nwhat in ourselves we call prudent regard for our own interest, we\ncall, in our neighbour, narrow selfishness; what in ourselves is\nlaudable economy, in him is miserable avarice. We are impetuous, he\nis passionate; we generous, he lavish; we are clever men of\nbusiness, he is a rogue; we sow our wild oats and are gay, he is\ndissipated. So we cheat ourselves by more than half-transparent\nveils of our own manufacture, which we fling round the ugly features\nand misshapen limbs of these sins of ours, and we are made more than\never their bond-slaves thereby.\n\nTherefore, it is the office of the truest love to force us to look at\nthe thing as it is. It would go some way to keep a man from some of\nhis sins if he would give the thing its real name. A distinct conscious\nstatement to oneself, 'Now I am going to tell a lie'--'This that I am\ndoing is fraud'--'This emotion that I feel creeping with devilish\nwarmth about the roots of my heart is revenge'--and so on, would\nsurely startle us sometimes, and make us fling the gliding poison\nfrom our breast, as a man would a snake that he found just lifting\nits head from the bosom of his robe. Suppose Judas had answered the\nquestion, and, gathering himself up, had looked his Master in the face,\nand said--'What have I come for?' 'I have come to betray Thee for\nthirty pieces of silver!' Do you not think that putting his guilt into\nwords might have moved even him to more salutary feelings than the\nremorse which afterwards accompanied his tardy discernment of what he\n_had_ done? So the patient love of Christ comes rebuking, and\nsmiting hard on conscience. 'The grace of God that bringeth salvation\nto all men hath appeared disciplining'--and His hand is never more\ngentle than when it plucks away the films with which we hide our sins\nfrom ourselves, and shows us the 'rottenness and dead men's bones'\nbeneath the whited walls of the sepulchres and the velvet of the coffins.\n\nHe must begin with rebukes that He may advance to blessing. He must\nteach us what is separating us from Him that, learning it, we may\nflee to His grace to help us. There is no entrance for the truest\ngifts of His patient love into any heart that has not yielded to His\npleading remonstrance, and in lowly penitence has answered His\nquestion as He would have us answer it, 'Friend and Lover of my\nsoul, I have sinned against Thy tender heart, against the unexampled\npatience of Thy love. I have departed from Thee and betrayed Thee.\nBlessed be Thy merciful voice which hath taught me what I have done!\nBlessed be Thine unwearied goodness which still bends over me! Raise\nme fallen! forgive me treacherous! Keep me safe and happy, ever true\nand near to Thee!'\n\nIII. Notice the possible rejection of the pleading of Christ's\npatient love.\n\nEven that appeal was vain. Here we are confronted with a plain\ninstance of man's mysterious and awful power of 'frustrating the\ncounsel of God'--of which one knows not whether is greater, the\ndifficulty of understanding how a finite will _can_ rear itself\nagainst the Infinite Will, or the mournful mystery that a creature\nshould desire to set itself against its loving Maker and Benefactor.\nBut strange as it is, yet so it is; and we can turn round upon\nSovereign Fatherhood bidding us to its service, and say, '_I will\nnot_.' He pleads with us, and we can resist His pleadings. He\nholds out the mercies of His hands and the gifts of His grace, and\nwe can reject them. We cannot cease to be the objects of His love,\nbut we can refuse to be the recipients of its most precious gifts.\nWe can bar our hearts against it. Then, of what avail is it to us?\nTo go back to an earlier illustration, the sunshine pours down and\nfloods a world, what does that matter to us if we have fastened up\nshutters on all our windows, and barred every crevice through which\nthe streaming gladness can find its way? We shall grope at noontide\nas in the dark within our gloomy house, while our neighbours have\nlight in theirs. What matters it though we float in the great ocean\nof the divine love, if with pitch and canvas we have carefully\nclosed every aperture at which the flood can enter? A hermetically\nclosed jar, plunged in the Atlantic, will be as dry inside as if it\nwere lying on the sand of the desert. It is possible to perish of\nthirst within sight of the fountain. It is possible to separate\nourselves from the love of God, not to separate the love of God from\nourselves.\n\nThe incident before us carries another solemn lesson--how simple and\neasy a thing it is to repel that pleading love. What did Judas do?\nNothing; it was enough. He merely held his peace--no more. There was\nno need for him to break out with oaths and curses, to reject his\nLord with wild words. Silence was sufficient. And for us--no more is\nrequired. We have but to be passive; we have but to stand still. Not\nto accept is to refuse; non-submission is rebellion. We do not need\nto emphasise our refusal by any action--no need to lift our clenched\nhands in defiance. We have simply to put them behind our backs or to\nkeep them folded. The closed hand must remain an empty hand. 'He\nthat believeth not is condemned.' My friend, remember that, when\nChrist pleads and draws, to do nothing is to oppose, and to delay is\nto refuse. It is a very easy matter to ruin your soul. You have\nsimply to keep still when He says 'Come unto Me'--to keep your eyes\nfixed where they were, when He says, 'Look unto Me, and be ye\nsaved,' and all the rest will follow of itself.\n\nNotice, too, how the appeal of Christ's love hardens where it does\nnot soften. That gentle voice drove the traitor nearer the verge\nover which he fell into a gulf of despair. It should have drawn him\ncloser to the Lord, but he recoiled from it, and was thereby brought\nnearer destruction. Every pleading of Christ's grace, whether by\nprovidences, or by books, or by His own word, does something with\nus. It is never vain. Either it melts or it hardens. The sun either\nscatters the summer morning mists, or it rolls them into heavier\nfolds, from whose livid depths the lightning will be flashing by\nmid-day. You cannot come near the most inadequate exhibition of the\npardoning love of Christ without being either drawn closer to Him or\ndriven further from Him. Each act of rejection prepares the way for\nanother, which will be easier, and adds another film to the darkness\nwhich covers your eyes, another layer to the hardness which incrusts\nyour hearts.\n\nAgain, that silence, so eloquent and potent in its influence, was\nprobably the silence of a man whose conscience was convicted while\nhis will was unchanged. Such a condition is possible. It points to\nsolemn thoughts, and to deep mysteries in man's awful nature. He\nknew that he was wrong, he had no excuse, his deed was before him in\nsome measure in its true character, and yet he would not give it up.\nSuch a state, if constant and complete, presents the most frightful\npicture we can frame of a soul. That a man shall not be able to say,\n'I did it ignorantly'; that Christ shall not be able to ground His\nintercession on, 'They know not what they do'; that with full\nknowledge of the true nature of the deed, there shall be no wavering\nof the determination to do it--we may well turn with terror from\nsuch an awful abyss. But let us remember that, whether such a\ncondition in its completeness is conceivable or not, at all events\nwe may approach it indefinitely; and we do approach it by every sin,\nand by every refusal to yield to the love that would touch our\nconsciences and fill our hearts.\n\nHave you ever noticed what a remarkable verbal correspondence there\nis between these words of our text, and some other very solemn ones\nof Christ's? The question that He puts into the lips of the king who\ncame in to see his guests is, '_Friend, how camest thou_ in\nhither, not having on a wedding garment?' The question asked on\nearth shall be repeated again at last. The silence which once\nindicated a convinced conscience and an unchanged will may at that\nday indicate both of these and hopelessness beside. The clear vision\nof the divine love, if it do not flood the heart with joy and evoke\nthe bliss of answering love, may fill it with bitterness. It is\npossible that the same revelation of the same grace may be the\nheaven of heaven to those who welcome it, and the pain of hell to\nthose who turn from it. It is possible that love believed and\nreceived may be life, and love recognised and rejected may be death.\nIt is possible that the vision of the same face may make some break\nforth with the rapturous hymn, 'Lo, this is our God, we have waited\nfor Him!' and make others call on the hills to fall on them and\ncover them from its brightness.\n\nBut let us not end with such words. Rather, dear brethren, let us\nyield to His patient beseechings; let Him teach us our evil and our\nsin. Listen to His great love who invites us to plead, and promises\nto pardon--'Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord:\nthough your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;\nthough they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE REAL HIGH PRIEST AND HIS COUNTERFEIT\n\n\n    'And they that had laid hold on Jesus led Him away to\n    Caiaphas the high priest, where the scribes and the\n    elders were assembled. 58. But Peter followed Him afar\n    off unto the high priest's palace, and went in, and sat\n    with the servants, to see the end. 59. Now the chief\n    priests, and elders, and all the council, sought false\n    witness against Jesus, to put Him to death; 60. But\n    found none: yea, though many false witnesses came, yet\n    found they none. At the last came two false witnesses,\n    61. And said, This fellow said, I am able to destroy\n    the temple of God, and to build it in three days.\n    62 And the high priest arose, and said unto Him,\n    Answerest Thou nothing? what is it which these witness\n    against Thee? 63. But Jesus held His peace. And the\n    high priest answered and said unto Him, I adjure Thee\n    by the living God, that Thou tell us whether Thou be\n    the Christ, the Son of God. 64. Jesus saith unto him,\n    Thou hast said: nevertheless I say unto you, Hereafter\n    shall ye see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand\n    of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven. 65. Then\n    the high priest rent his clothes, saying, He hath spoken\n    blasphemy; what further need have we of witnesses?\n    behold, now ye have heard His blasphemy. 66. What think\n    ye? They answered and said, He is guilty of death.\n    67. Then did they spit in His face, and buffeted Him;\n    and others smote Him with the palms of their hands,\n    68. Saying, Prophesy unto us, Thou Christ, Who is he\n    that smote Thee?'--MATT. xxvi. 57-68.\n\nJohn's Gospel tells us that Jesus was brought before 'Annas first,'\nprobably in the same official priestly residence as Caiaphas, his\nson-in-law, occupied. That preliminary examination brought out\nnothing to incriminate the prisoner, and was flagrantly illegal,\nbeing an attempt to entrap Him into self-accusing statements. It was\nbaffled by Jesus being silent first, and subsequently taking His\nstand on the undeniable principle that a charge must be sustained by\nevidence, not based on self-accusation. Annas, having made nothing\nof this strange criminal, 'sent Him bound unto Caiaphas.'\n\nA meeting of the Sanhedrin had been hastily summoned in the dead of\nnight, which was itself an illegality. Now Jesus stands before the\npoor shadow of a judicial tribunal, which, though it was all that\nRome had left a conquered people, was still entitled to sit in\njudgment on Him. Strange inversion, and awful position for these\nformalists! And with sad persistence of bitter prejudice they\nproceeded to try the prisoner, all unaware that it was themselves,\nnot Him, that they were trying.\n\nThey began wrongly, and betrayed their animus at once. They were\nsitting there to inquire whether Jesus was guilty or no; they had\nmade up their minds beforehand that He was, and their effort now was\nbut to manufacture some thin veil of legality for a judicial murder.\nSo they 'sought false witness, ... that they might put Him to\ndeath.' Matthew simply says that no evidence sufficient for the\npurpose was forthcoming; Mark adds that the weak point, was that the\nlies contradicted each other. Christ's presence has a strange,\nsolemn power of unmasking our falsehoods, both of thought and deed,\nand it is hard to speak evil of Him before His face. If His\ncalumniators were confused when He stood as Prisoner, what will they\nbe when He sits as a Judge?\n\nOnly Matthew and Mark tell us of the two witnesses whose twisted\nversion of the word about 'destroying the Temple and rebuilding it\nin three days' seemed to Caiaphas serious enough to require an\nanswer. Their mistake was one which might have been made in good\nfaith, but none the less was their travesty 'false witness.' Their\nversion of His great word shows how easily the teaching of a lofty\nsoul, passed through the popular brain, is degraded, and made to\nmean the opposite of what he had meant by it. For the destruction of\nthe Temple had appeared in the saying as the Jews' work, and Jesus\nhad presented Himself in it as the Restorer, not the Destroyer, of\nthe Temple and of all that it symbolised. We destroy, He rebuilds.\nThe murder of Jesus was the suicide of the nation. Caiaphas and his\ncouncil were even now pulling down the Temple. And that murder was\nthe destruction, so far as men could effect it, of the true 'Temple\nof His body,' in which the fulness of the Godhead dwelt, and which\nwas more gloriously reconstituted in the Resurrection. The risen\nChrist rears the true temple on earth, for through Him the Holy\nGhost dwells in His Church, which is collectively 'the Temple,' and\nin all believing spirits, which are individually 'the temples' of\nGod. So the false witnesses distorted into a lie a great truth.\n\nThe Incarnate Word was dumb all the while. He 'was still and\nrefrained' Himself. It was the silence of the King before a lawless\ntribunal of rebels, of patient meekness, 'as a sheep before her\nshearers'; of innocence that will not stoop to defend itself from\ngroundless accusations; of infinite pity and forbearing love, which\nsees that it cannot win, but will not smite. Jesus is still silent,\nbut one day, 'with the breath of His lips shall He slay the wicked.'\nCaiaphas seems to have been annoyed as well as surprised at Jesus'\nsilence, for there is a trace of irritation, as at 'contempt of\ncourt,' in his words. But our Lord's continued silence appears to\nhave somewhat awed him, and the dawning consciousness of his dignity\nis, perhaps, the reason for the high priest's casting aside all the\nfoolery of false witnessing, and coming at last to the real\npoint,--the Messianic claims of Jesus.\n\nCaiaphas was doing his duty as high priest in inquiring into such\nclaims, but he was somewhat late in the day, and he had made up his\nmind before he inquired. What he wished to get was a plain assertion\non which the death sentence could be pronounced. Jesus knew this,\nand yet He answered. But Luke tells us that He first scathingly\npointed to the unreality and animus of the question by saying, 'If I\ntell you, ye will not believe.' But yet it was fitting that He\nshould solemnly, before the supreme court, representative of the\nnation, declare that He was the Messiah, and that, if He was to be\nrejected and condemned, it should be on the ground of that\ndeclaration. Before Caiaphas He claimed to be Messiah, before Pilate\nHe claimed to be King. Each rejected Him in the character that\nappealed to them most. The many-sidedness of the perfect Revealer of\nGod brings Him to each soul in the aspect that most loudly addresses\neach. Therefore the love in the appeal and the guilt in its\nrejection are the greater.\n\nBut Christ's self-attestation to the council was not limited to the\nmere claim to the name of Messiah. It disclosed the implications of\nthat name in a way altogether unlike the conceptions held by\nCaiaphas. When Caiaphas put in apposition 'the Christ' and 'the Son\nof God,' he was not speaking from the ordinary Jewish point of view,\nbut from some knowledge, of Christ's teaching, and there are two\ncharges combined into one.\n\nBut Jesus' answer, while plainly claiming to be the Messiah, expands\nitself in regard to the claim to be 'Son of God,' and shows its\ntremendous significance. It involves participation in divine\nauthority and omnipotence. It involves a future coming to be the\nJudge of His judges. It declares that these blind scribes and elders\nwill see Him thus exalted, and it asserts that all this is to begin\nthen and there ('henceforth'), as if that hour of humiliation was to\nHis consciousness the beginning of His manifestation as Lord, or, as\nJohn has it, 'the hour that the Son of Man should be glorified.' Nor\nmust we leave out of sight the fact that it is 'the Son of Man' of\nwhom all this is said, for thereby are indicated the raising of His\nperfect humanity to participation in Deity, and the possibility that\nHis brethren, too, may sit where He sits. Much was veiled in the\nanswer to the council, much is veiled to us. But this remains,--that\nJesus, at that supreme moment, when He was bound to leave no\nmisunderstandings, made the plainest claim to divinity, and could\nhave saved His life if He had not done so. Either Caiaphas, in his\nostentatious horror of such impiety, was right in calling Christ's\nwords blasphemy, and not far wrong in inferring that Jesus was not\nfit to live, or He is the everlasting 'Son of the Father,' and will\n'come to be our Judge.'\n\n\n\n\nJESUS CHARGED WITH BLASPHEMY\n\n\n    'Then the high priest rent his clothes, saying, He\n    hath spoken blasphemy; what further need have we of\n    witnesses?'--MATT. xxvi. 65.\n\nJesus was tried and condemned by two tribunals, the Jewish\necclesiastical and the Roman civil. In each case the charge\ncorresponded to the Court. The Sanhedrin took no cognisance of, and\nhad no concern with, rebellion against Caesar; though for the time\nthey pretended loyalty. Pilate had still less concern about Jewish\nsuperstitions. And so the investigation in each case turned on a\ndifferent question. In the one it was, 'Art Thou the Son of God?' in\nthe other, 'Art Thou the King of Israel?' The answer to both was a\nsimple 'Yes!' but with very significant differences. Pilate received\nan explanation; the Sanhedrin none. The Roman governor was taught\nthat Christ's title of King belonged to another region altogether\nfrom that of Caesar, and did not in the slightest degree infringe\nupon the dominion that he represented. But 'Son of God' was capable\nof no explanation that could make it any less offensive; and the\nonly thing to be done was to accept it or to condemn Him.\n\nSo this saying of the high priest differs from other words of our\nLord's antagonists, which we have been considering in recent pages,\nin that it is no distortion of our Lord's characteristics or\nmeaning. It correctly understands, but it fatally rejects, His\nclaims; and does not hesitate to take the further step, on the\nground of these, of branding Him as a blasphemer.\n\nWe may turn the high priest's question in another direction: 'What\nfurther need have we of witnesses?' These horror-stricken judges,\nrending their garments in simulated grief and zeal, and that silent\nPrisoner, knowing that His life was the forfeit of His claims, yet\nsaying no word of softening or explanation of them, may teach us\nmuch. They are witnesses to some of the central facts of the\nrevelation of God in Christ. Let us turn to these for a few moments.\n\nI. First, then, they witness to Christ's claims.\n\nThe question that was proposed to Jesus, 'Art Thou the Christ, the\nSon of the living God?' was suggested by the facts of His ministry,\nand not by anything that had come out in the course of this\ninvestigation. It was the summing up of the impression made on the\necclesiastical authorities of Judaism by His whole attitude and\ndemeanour. And if we look back to His life we shall see that there\nwere instances, long before this, on which, on the same ground, the\nsame charge was flung at Him. For example, when He would heal the\nparalytic, and, before He dealt with bodily disease, attended to\nspiritual weakness, and said, 'Thy sins be forgiven thee,' ere He\nsaid, 'Take up thy bed and walk,' there was a group of keen-eyed\nhunters after heresy sitting eagerly on the watch, who snatched at\nthe words in a moment, and said, 'Who is this that forgiveth sins?\nNo _man_ forgiveth sins, but God only! This man speaketh\nblasphemies!' And they were right. He did claim a divine\nprerogative; and either the claim must be admitted or the charge of\nblasphemy urged.\n\nAgain, when He infringed Rabbinical Sabbath law by a cure, and they\nsaid, 'This Man has broken the Sabbath day,' His vindication was\nworse than His offence, for He answered, 'My Father worketh\nhitherto, and I work.' And then they sought the more to kill Him,\nbecause He not only brake the Sabbath, but also called God His own\nFather, making Himself equal with God.' And again, when He declared\nthat the safety of His sheep in His hands was identical with their\nsafety in His Father's hands, and vindicated the audacious\nparallelism by the tremendous assertion, 'I and My Father are One,'\nthe charge of blasphemy rang out; and was inevitable, unless the\nclaim was true.\n\nThese outstanding instances are but, as it were, summits that rise\nabove the general level. But the general level is that of One who\ntakes an altogether unique position. No one else, professing to lead\nmen in paths of righteousness, has so constantly put the stress of\nHis teaching, not upon morality, nor religion, nor obedience to God,\nbut upon this, 'Believe in Me'; or ever pushed forward His own\npersonality into the foreground, and made the whole nobleness and\nblessedness and security and devoutness of a life to hinge upon that\none thing, its personal relation to Him.\n\nPeople talk about the sweet and gentle wisdom that flowed from\nChrist's lips, and so on; about the lofty morality, about the beauty\nof pity and tenderness, and all the other commonplaces so familiar\nto us, and we gladly admit them all. But I venture to go a step\nfurther than all these, and to say that the outstanding\n_differentia_, the characteristic which marks off Christ's\nteaching as something new, peculiar, and altogether _per se_,\nis not its morality, not its philanthropy, not its meek wisdom, not\nits sweet reasonableness, but its tremendous assertions of the\nimportance of Himself.\n\nAnd if I am asked to state the ground upon which such an assertion\nmay be vindicated, I would point you to such facts as these, that\nthis Man took up a position of equality with, and of superiority to,\nthe legislation which He and the people to whom He was speaking\nregarded as being divinely sent, and said, 'Ye have heard that it\nhath been said to them of old time' so and so; 'but I say unto you':\nthat this Man declared that to build upon His words was to build\nupon a rock; that this Man declared that He--He--was the legitimate\nobject of absolute trust, of utter submission and obedience; that He\nclaimed from His followers affiance, love, reverence which cannot be\ndistinguished from worship, and that He did not therein conceive\nthat He was intercepting anything that belonged to the Father. This\nMan professed to be able to satisfy the desires of every human heart\nwhen He said, 'If any man thirst let him come to Me and drink.' This\nMan claimed to be able to breathe the sanctity of repose in the\nblessedness of obedience over all the weary and the heavy laden; and\nassured them that He Himself, through all the ages, and in all\nlands, and for all troubles, would give them rest. This Man declared\nthat He who stood there, in the quiet homes of Galilee, and went\nabout its acres with those blessed feet for our advantage, was to be\nJudge of the whole world. This Man said that His name was 'Son of\nGod'; and this Man declared, 'He that hath seen Me hath seen the\nFather.'\n\nAnd then people say to us, 'Oh! your Gospel narratives, even if they\nbe the work of men in good faith, telling what they suppose He said,\nmistook the Teacher; and if we could strip away the accretion of\nmistaken reverence, and come to the historical person, we should\nfind no claims like these.'\n\nWell, this is not the time to enter into the large questions which\nthat contention involves, but I point you to the incident which\nmakes my text, and I say, 'What need we any further witnesses?'\nNobody denies that Jesus Christ was crucified as the result of a\ncombination of Sanhedrin and Pilate. What set the Jewish rulers\nagainst Him with such virulent and murderous determination? Is there\nanything in the life of Jesus Christ, if it is watered down as the\npeople, who want to knock out all the supernatural, desire to water\nit down--is there anything in the life that will account for the\ninveterate acrimony and hostility which pursued Him to the death?\nThe fact remains that, whether or not Evangelists and Apostles\nmisconceived His teaching when they gave such prominence to His\npersonality and His lofty claims, His enemies were under the same\ndelusion, if it were a delusion; and the reason why the whole\northodox religionism of Judaism rejoiced when He was nailed to the\nCross was summed up in the taunt which they flung at Him as He hung\nthere, 'If He be the Son of God, let Him come down, and we will\nbelieve Him.'\n\nSo, brethren, I put into the witness-box Annas and Caiaphas and all\ntheir satellites, and I say, 'What need we any further witnesses?'\nHe died because He declared that He was the Son of God.\n\nAnd I beseech you ask yourselves whether we are not being put off\nwith a maimed version of His teaching, if there is struck out of it\nthis its central characteristic, that He, 'the sage and humble,'\ndeclared that He was 'likewise One with the Creator.'\n\nII. Secondly, note how we have here the witness that Jesus Christ\nassented always to the loftiest meaning that men attached to His\nclaims.\n\nI have already pointed out the remarkable difference between the\nexplanations which He condescended to give to the Roman governor as\nto the perfectly innocent meaning of His claim to be the King of\nIsrael, and His silence before the Sanhedrin. That silence is only\nexplicable because they rightly understood the meaning of the claim\nwhich they contemptuously and perversely rejected. Jesus Christ knew\nthat His death was the forfeit, as I have said, and yet He locked\nHis lips and said not a word.\n\nIn like manner when, on the other occasion to which I have already\nreferred, the Pharisees stumbled at His claims to forgive sins, He\nsaid nothing to soften down that claim. If He had meant then only\nwhat some people would desire to make Him mean when He said, 'Thy\nsins be forgiven thee'--viz., that He was simply acting as a\nminister of the divine forgiveness, and assuring a poor sinner that\nGod had pardoned him--why in common honesty, in discharge of His\nplain obligations of a teacher, did He not say so--not for His own\nsake, but for the sake of preventing such a tremendous\nmisunderstanding of His meaning? But He let them go away with the\nconviction that He intended to claim a divine prerogative, and\nvindicated the assertion by doing what only a divine power could do:\n'That ye may know that the Son of Man hath power enough on earth to\nforgive sins, He saith unto the sick of the palsy, Take up thy bed\nand walk.' There was no need for Him to have wrought a miracle to\nestablish His right to tell a poor soul that God forgave sin. And\nthe fact that the miracle was supposed to be the demonstration and\nthe vindication of His right to declare forgiveness shows that He\nwas exercising that prerogative which belongs, as they rightly said,\nto God only.\n\nAnd in precisely the same manner, the commonest obligations of\nhonesty, the plain duty of a misunderstood Teacher, to say nothing\nof the duty of self-preservation, ought to have opened His lips in\nthe presence of the Jewish authorities, if they understood wrongly\nand set too high their estimate of the meaning of His claims. His\nsilence establishes the fact that they understood these aright.\n\nAnd so, all through His life, we note this peculiarity, that He\nnever puts aside as too lofty for truth men's highest interpretations\nof His claims, nor as too lowly for their mutual relation the lowest\nreverence which bowed before Him. Peter, in the house of Cornelius,\nsaid, 'Stand up! for I myself also am a man.' Paul and Barnabas, when\nthe priests brought out the oxen and garlands to the gates of Lystra,\ncould say, 'We also are men of like passions with yourselves.' But\nthis meek Jesus lets men fall at His feet; and women wash them with\ntheir tears and wipe them with the hairs of their head; and souls\nstretch out maimed hands of faith, and grasp Him as their only hope.\nWhen His apostle said, 'Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God,'\nHis answer was, 'Blessed art thou, for flesh and blood hath not revealed\nit unto thee,' and when another exclaimed, 'My Lord and my God!' this\nPattern of all meekness accepted and endorsed the title, and pronounced\na benediction on all who, not having seen Him, should hereafter attain\na like faith.\n\nNow I want to know whether that characteristic, which runs through all\nHis life, and is inseparable from it, can be vindicated on any ground\nexcept the ground that He was 'God manifest in the flesh.' Either\nJesus Christ had a greedy appetite for excessive adoration, was a\nvictim to diseased vanity and ever-present self-regard--the most\ndamning charge that you can bring against a religious teacher--or He\naccepted love and reverence and trust, because the love and the\nreverence and the trust knit souls to the Incarnate God their Saviour.\n\nIII. And so, lastly we have here witness to the only alternative to\nthe acceptance of His claims.\n\nHe hath spoken 'blasphemy,' not because He had derogated from the\ndignity of divinity, but because He had presumed to participate in\nit. And it seems to me, with all deference, that this rough\nalternative is the only legitimate one. If Jesus Christ did make\nsuch claims, and His relation to the Jewish hierarchy and His death\nare, as I have shown you, apart even from the testimony of the\nEvangelists, strong confirmation of the fact that He did--if Jesus\nChrist did make such claims, and they were not valid, one of two\nthings follows. Either He believed them, and then, what about His\nsanity? or He did not believe them, and then, what about His\nhonesty? In either case, what about His claims to be a Teacher of\nreligion? What about His claims to be the Pattern of humanity? That\npart of His teaching and character is either the manifestation of\nHis glory or it is like one of those fatal black seams that run\nthrough and penetrate into the substance of a fair white marble\nstatue, marring all the rest of its pale and celestial beauty.\nBrethren, it seems to me that, when all is said and done, we come to\none of three things about Jesus Christ. Either 'He blasphemeth' if\nHe said these things, and they were not true, or 'He is beside\nHimself' if He said these things and believed them, or\n\n  'Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ;\n   Thou art the everlasting Son of the Father.'\n\nNow I know that there are many men who, I venture to say, are far\nbetter than their creed, and who, believing it impossible to accept,\nin their plain meaning, the plain claims of Jesus Christ to\ndivinity, do yet cleave to Him with a love and a reverence and an\nobedience which more orthodox men might well copy. And far be it\nfrom me to say one word which might seem even to quench the faintest\nbeam of light that, shining from His perfect character, draws any\nheart, however imperfectly, to Himself. Only, if I speak to any such\nat this time, I beseech them to follow the light which draws them,\nand to see whether their reverence for that fair character should\nnot lead them to accept implicitly the claims that came from His own\nlips. I humbly venture to say that if we know anything at all about\nJesus Christ, we know that He lived declaring Himself to be the\nEverlasting Son of the Father, and that He died because He did so\ndeclare Himself. And I beseech you to ponder the question whether\nreverence for Him and admiration of His character can be logically\nand reasonably retained, side by side with the repudiation of that\nwhich is the most distinctive part of His message to men.\n\nOh, brethren, if it is true that God has come in the flesh, and that\nthat sweet, gracious, infinitely beautiful life is really the\nrevelation of the heart of God, then what a beam of sunshine falls\nupon all the darkness of this world! Then God is love; then that\nlove holds us all; did not shrink from dying for us, and lives for\never to bless us. If these claims are true, what should our attitude\nbe but that of infinite trust, love, submission, obedience, and the\nshaping of our lives after the pattern of His life?\n\nThese rejectors, when they said, 'He speaketh blasphemies,' were\nsealing their own doom, and the ruined Temple and nineteen centuries\nof wandering misery show what comes to men who hear Christ declaring\nthat He is the Son of the living God and the Judge of the world, and\nwho find nothing in the words but blasphemy. On the other hand, if\nwe will answer His question, 'Whom say ye that I am?' as the apostle\nanswered it, we shall, like the apostle, receive a benediction from\nHis lips, and be set on that faith as on a rock against which the\n'gates of hell' shall not prevail.\n\n\n\n\n'SEE THOU TO THAT!'\n\n\n    'I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent\n    blood. And they said, What is that to us? See thou to\n    that. 24. I am innocent of the blood of this just\n    Person: see ye to it.'--MATT. xxvii. 4, 24.\n\nSo, what the priests said to Judas, Pilate said to the priests. They\ncontemptuously bade their wretched instrument bear the burden of his\nown treachery. They had condescended to use his services, but he\npresumed too far if he thought that that gave him a claim upon their\nsympathies. The tools of more respectable and bolder sinners are\nflung aside as soon as they are done with. What were the agonies or\nthe tears of a hundred such as he to these high-placed and heartless\ntransgressors? Priests though they were, and therefore bound by\ntheir office to help any poor creature that was struggling with a\nwounded conscience, they had nothing better to say to him than this\nscornful gibe, 'What is that to us? See thou to that.'\n\nPilate, on the other hand, metes to them the measure which they had\nmeted to Judas. With curious verbal correspondence, he repeats the\nvery words of Judas and of the priests. 'Innocent blood,' said\nJudas. 'I am innocent of the blood of this just Person,' said\nPilate. 'See thou to that,' answered they. 'See ye to it,' says he.\nHe tries to shove off his responsibility upon them, and they are\nquite willing to take it. Their consciences are not easily touched.\nFanatical hatred which thinks itself influenced by religious motives\nis the blindest and cruellest of all passions, knowing no\ncompunction, and utterly unperceptive of the innocence of its\nvictim.\n\nAnd so these three, Judas, the priests, and Pilate, suggest to us, I\nthink, a threefold way in which conscience is perverted. Judas\nrepresents the agony of conscience, Pilate represents the shuffling\nsophistications of a half-awakened conscience, and those priests and\npeople represent the torpor of an altogether misdirected conscience.\n\nI. Judas, or the agony of conscience.\n\n'I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood.' We do\nnot need to enter at any length upon the difficult question as to\nwhat were the motives of Judas in his treachery. For my part I do\nnot see that there is anything in the Scripture narrative, simply\ninterpreted, to bear out the hypothesis that his motives were\nmistaken zeal and affection for Christ; and a desire to force Him to\nthe avowal of His Messiahship. One can scarcely suppose zeal so\nstrangely perverted as to begin by betrayal, and if the object was\nto make our Lord speak out His claims, the means adopted were\nsingularly ill-chosen. The story, as it stands, naturally suggests a\nmuch less far-fetched explanation.\n\nJudas was simply a man of a low earthly nature, who became a\nfollower of Christ, thinking that He was to prove a Messiah of the\nvulgar type, or another Judas Maccab\u00e6us. He was not attracted by\nChrist's character and teaching. As the true nature of Christ's work\nand kingdom became more obvious, he became more weary of Him and it.\nThe closest proximity to Jesus Christ made eleven enthusiastic\ndisciples, but it made one traitor. No man could live near Him for\nthree years without coming to hate Him if he did not love Him. Then,\nas ever, He was set for the fall and for the rise of many. He was\nthe 'savour of life unto life, or of death unto death.'\n\nBut be this as it may, we have here to do with the sudden revulsion\nof feeling which followed upon the accomplished act. This burst of\nconfession does not sound like the words of a man who had been\nactuated by motives of mistaken affection. He knows himself a\ntraitor, and that fair, perfect character rises before him in its\npurity, as he had never seen it before--to rebuke and confound him.\n\nSo this exclamation of his puts into a vivid shape, which may help it to\nstick in our memories and hearts, this thought--what an awful difference\nthere is in the look of a sin before we do it and afterwards! Before we\ndo it the thing to be gained seems so attractive, and the transgression\nthat gains it seems so comparatively insignificant. Yes! and when we\nhave done it the two change places; the thing that we win by it seems\nso contemptible--thirty pieces of silver! pitch them over the Temple\nenclosure and get rid of them!--and the thing that we did to win them\ndilates into such awful magnitude!\n\nFor instance, suppose we do anything that we know to be wrong, being\ntempted to it by a momentary indulgence of some mere animal impulse.\nBy the very nature of the case, that dies in its satisfaction and\nthe desire dies along with it. We do not wish the prize any more\nwhen once we have got it. It lasts but a moment and is past. Then we\nare left alone with the thought of the sin that we have done. When\nwe get the prize of our wrong-doing, we find out that it is not as\nall-satisfying as we expected it would be. Most of our earthly aims\nare like that. The chase is a great deal more than the hare. Or, as\nGeorge Herbert has it, 'Nothing between two dishes--a splendid\nservice of silver plate, and when you take the cover off there is no\nfood to eat--such are the pleasures here.'\n\nUniversally, this is true, that sooner or later, when the delirium\nof passion and the rush of temptation are over and we wake to\nconsciousness, we find that we are none the richer for the thing\ngained, and oh! so infinitely the poorer for the means by which we\ngained it. It is that old story of the Veiled Prophet that wooed and\nwon the hearts of foolish maidens, and, when he had them in his\npower in the inner chamber, removed the silver veil which they had\nthought hid dazzling glory and showed hideous features that struck\ndespair into their hearts. Every man's sin does that for him. And to\nyou I come now with this message: every wrong thing that you do,\ngreat or small, will be like some of those hollow images of the gods\nthat one hears of in barbarian temples--looked at in front, fair,\nbut when you get behind them you find a hollow, full of dust and\nspiders' webs and unclean things. Be sure of this, every sin is a\nblunder.\n\nThat is the first lesson that lies in these words of this wretched\ntraitor; but again, here is an awful picture for us of the hell upon\nearth, of a conscience which has no hope of pardon. I do not suppose\nthat Judas was lost, if he were lost, because he betrayed Jesus\nChrist, but because, having betrayed Jesus Christ, he never asked to\nbe forgiven. And I suppose that the difference between the traitor\nwho betrayed Him and the other traitor who denied Him, was this,\nthat the one, when 'he went out and wept bitterly,' had the thought\nof a loving Master with him, and the other, when 'he went out and\nhanged himself,' had the thought of nothing but that foul deed\nglaring before him. I pray you to learn this lesson--you cannot\nthink too much, too blackly, of your own sins, but you may think too\nexclusively of them, and if you do they will drive you to madness of\ndespair.\n\nMy dear friend, there is no penitence or remorse which is deep\nenough for the smallest transgression; but there is no transgression\nwhich is so great but that forgiveness for it may come. And we may\nhave it for the asking, if we will go to that dear Christ that died\nfor us. The consciousness of sinfulness is a wholesome consciousness.\nI would that every man and woman listening to me now had it deep in\ntheir consciences, and then I would that it might lead us all to that\none Lord in whom there is forgiveness and peace. Be sure of this,\nthat if Judas Iscariot, when his 'soul flared forth in the dark,'\ndied without hope and without pardon, it was not because his crime\nwas too great for forgiveness, but because the forgiveness had never\nbeen asked. There is no unpardonable sin except that of refusing the\npardon that avails for all sin.\n\nII. So much, then, for this first picture and the lessons that come\nout of it. In the next place we take Pilate, as the representative\nof what I have ventured to call the shufflings of a half-awakened\nconscience.\n\n'I am innocent of the blood of this just Person,' says he: 'see ye\nto it.' He is very willing to shuffle off his responsibility upon\npriests and people, and they, for their part, are quite as willing\nto accept it; but the responsibility can neither be shuffled off by\nhim nor accepted by them. His motive in surrendering Jesus to them\nwas probably nothing more than the low and cowardly wish to humour\nhis turbulent subjects, and so to secure an easy tenure of office.\nFor such an end what did one poor man's life matter? He had a great\ncontempt for the accusers, which he is scarcely at the pains to\nconceal. It breaks out in half-veiled sarcasms, by which he\ncynically indemnifies himself for his ignoble yielding to the\nconstraint which they put upon him. He knows perfectly well that the\nRoman power has nothing to fear from this King, whose kingdom rested\non His witness to the Truth. He knows perfectly well that unavowed\nmotives of personal enmity lie at the bottom of the whole business.\nIn the words of our text he acquits Christ, and thereby condemns\nhimself. If Pilate knew that Jesus was innocent, he knew that he, as\ngovernor, was guilty of prostituting Roman justice, which was Rome's\nbest gift to her subject nations, and of giving up an innocent man\nto death, in order to save himself trouble and to conciliate a\nhowling mob. No washing of his hands will cleanse them. 'All the\nperfumes of Arabia will not sweeten that hand. But his words let us\nsee how a man may sophisticate his conscience and quibble about his\nguilt.\n\nHere, then, we get once more a vivid picture that may remind us of\nwhat, alas! we all know in our own experience, how a man's\nconscience may be clearsighted enough to discern, and vocal enough\nto declare, that a certain thing is wrong, but not strong enough to\nrestrain from doing it. Conscience has a voice and an eye; alas! it\nhas no hands. It shares the weakness of all law, it cannot get\nitself executed. Men will get over a fence, although the board that\nsays, 'Trespassers will be prosecuted' is staring them in the face\nin capital letters at the very place where they leap it. Your\nconscience is a king without an army, a judge without officers. 'If\nit had authority, as it has the power, it would govern the world,'\nbut as things are, it is reduced to issuing vain edicts and to\nsaying, 'Thou shalt not,' and if you turn round and say, 'I will,\nthough,' then conscience has no more that it can do.\n\nAnd then here, too, is an illustration of one of the commonest of\nthe ways by which we try to slip our necks out of the collar, and to\nget rid of the responsibilities that really belong to us. 'See ye to\nit' does not avail to put Pilate's crime on the priests' shoulders.\nMen take part in evil, and each thinks himself innocent, because he\nhas companions. Half-a-dozen men carry a burden together; none of\nthem fancies that he is carrying it. It is like the case of turning\nout a platoon of soldiers to shoot a mutineer--nobody knows whose\nbullet killed him, and nobody feels himself guilty; but there the\nman lies dead, and it was somebody  that did it. So corporations,\nchurches, societies, and nations do things that individuals would\nnot do, and each man of them wipes his mouth and says, 'I have done\nno harm.' And even when we sin alone we are clever at finding\nscapegoats. 'The woman tempted me, and I did eat,' is the formula\nuniversally used yet. The schoolboy's excuse, 'Please, sir, it was\nnot me, it was the other boy,' is what we are all ready to say.\n\nNow I pray you, brethren, to remember that, whether our consciences\ntry to shuffle off responsibility for united action upon the other\nmembers of the firm, or whether we try to excuse our individual\nactions by laying blame on our tempers, or whether we adopt the\nmodern slang, and talk about circumstances and heredity and the\nlike, as being reasons for the diminution or the extinction of the\nnotion of guilt, it is sophistical trifling; and down at the bottom\nmost of us know that we alone are responsible for the volition which\nleads to our act. We could have helped it if we had liked. Nobody\ncompelled us to keep in the partnership of evil, or to yield to the\ntempter. Pilate was not forced by his subjects to give the\ncommandment that 'it should be as they required.' They had their own\nburden to carry. Each man has to bear the consequences of his\nactions. There are many 'burdens' which we can 'bear for one\nanother, and so fulfil the law of Christ'; but every man has to bear\nas his own the burden of the fruits of his deeds. In that harvest,\nhe that soweth and he that reapeth are one, and each of us has to\ndrink as we ourselves have brewed. You have to pay for your share,\nhowever many companions you may have had in the act.\n\nSo do not you sophisticate your consciences with the delusion that\nyour responsibility may be shifted to any other person or thing.\nThese may diminish, or may modify your responsibility, and God takes\nall these into account. But after all these have been taken into\naccount there is this left--that you yourselves have done the act,\nwhich you need not have done unless you had so willed, and that\nhaving done it, you have to carry it on your back for evermore. 'See\nthou to that,' was a heartless word, but it was a true one. 'Every\none of us shall give an account of himself to God,' and as the old\nBook of Proverbs has it, 'If thou be wise, thou shalt be wise for\nthyself: and if thou scornest, thou alone shalt bear it.'\n\nIII. And so, lastly, we have here another group still--the priests\nand people. They represent for us the torpor and misdirection of\nconscience.\n\n'Then answered all the people and said, His blood be on us and on\nour children.' They were perfectly ready to take the burden upon\nthemselves. They thought that they were 'doing God service' when\nthey slew God's Messenger. They had no perception of the beauty and\ngentleness of Christ's character. They believed Him to be a\nblasphemer, and they believed it to be a solemn religious duty to\nslay Him then and there. Were they to blame because they slew a\nblasphemer? According to Jewish law--no. They were to blame because\nthey had brought themselves into such a moral condition that that\nwas all which they thought of and saw in Jesus Christ. With their\nawful words they stand before us, as perhaps the crowning instances\nin Scripture history of the possible torpor which may paralyse\nconsciences.\n\nI need not dwell, I suppose, even for a moment, upon the thought of\nhow the highest and noblest sentiments may be perverted into\nbecoming the allies of the lowest crime. 'O Liberty! what crimes\nhave been done in thy name!' you remember one of the victims of the\nguillotine said, as her last words. 'O Religion! what crimes have\nbeen done in _thy_ name!' is one of the lessons to be gathered\nfrom Calvary.\n\nBut, passing that, to come to the thing that is of more consequence\nto each of us, let us take this thought, dear brethren, as to the\nawful possibility of a conscience going fast asleep in the midst of\nthe wildest storm of passion, like that unfaithful prophet Jonah,\ndown in the hold of the heathen ship. You can lull your consciences\ninto dead slumber. You can stifle them so that they shall not speak\na word against the worst of your sins. You can do so by simply\nneglecting them, by habitually refusing to listen to them. If you\nkeep picking all the leaves and buds off the tree before they open,\nit will stop flowering. You can do it by gathering round yourself\nalways, and only, evil associations and evil deeds. The habit of\nsinning will lull a conscience faster than almost anything else. We\ndo not know how hot a room is, or how much the air is exhausted,\nwhen we have been sitting in it for an hour and a half. But if we\ncame into it from outside we should feel the difference. Styrian\npeasants thrive and fatten upon arsenic, and men may flourish upon\nall iniquity and evil, and conscience will say never a word. Take\ncare of that delicate balance within you; and see that you do not\ntamper with it nor twist it.\n\nConscience may be misguided as well as lulled. It may call evil\ngood, and good evil; it may take honey for gall, and gall for honey.\nAnd so we need something outside of ourselves to be our guide, our\nstandard. We are not to be contented that our consciences acquit us.\n'I know nothing against myself, yet I am not hereby justified,' says\nthe apostle; 'he that judgeth me is the Lord.' And it is quite\npossible that a man may have no prick of conscience and yet have\ndone a very wrong thing. So we want, as it seems to me, something\noutside of ourselves that shall not be affected by our variations.\nConscience is like the light on the binnacle of a ship. It tosses up\nand down along with the vessel. We want a steady light yonder on\nthat headland, on the fixed solid earth, which shall not heave with\nthe heaving wave, nor vary at all. Conscience speaks lowest when it\nought to speak loudest. The worst man is least troubled by his\nconscience. It is like a lamp that goes out in the thickest\ndarkness. Therefore we need, as I believe, a revelation of truth and\ngoodness and beauty outside of ourselves to which we may bring our\nconsciences that they may be enlightened and set right. We want a\nstandard like the authorised weights and measures that are kept in\nthe Tower of London, to which all the people in the little country\nvillages may send up their yard measures and their pound weights,\nand find out if they are just and true. We want a _Bible_, and\nwe want a _Christ_ to tell us what is duty, as well as to make\nit possible for us to do it.\n\nThese groups which we have been looking at now, show us how very\nlittle help and sympathy a wounded conscience can get from its\nfellows. The conspirators turn upon each other as soon as the\ndetectives are amongst them, and there is always one of them ready\nto go into the witness-box and swear away the lives of the others to\nsave his own neck. Wolves tear sick wolves to pieces.\n\nRound us there stand Society, pitiless and stern, and Nature, rigid\nand implacable; not to be besought, not to be turned. And when I, in\nthe midst of this universe of fixed law and cause and consequence,\nwail out, 'I have sinned,' a thousand voices say to me, 'What is\nthat to us? See thou to that.' And so I am left with my guilt--it\nand I together. There comes One with outstretched, wounded hands,\nand says, 'Cast all thy burden upon Me, and I will free thee from it\nall.' 'Surely He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows!'\nTrust in Him, in His great sacrifice, and you will find that His\n'innocent blood' has a power that will liberate your conscience from\nits torpor, its vain excuses, its agony and despair.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SENTENCE WHICH CONDEMNED THE JUDGES\n\n\n    And Jesus stood before the governor: and the governor\n    asked Him, saying, Art Thou the King of the Jews? And\n    Jesus said unto him, Thou sayest. 12. And when He was\n    accused of the chief priests and elders, He answered\n    nothing. 13. Then said Pilate unto Him, Hearest Thou\n    not how many things they witness against Thee? 14. And\n    He answered him to never a word; insomuch that the\n    governor marvelled greatly. 15. Now at that feast the\n    governor was wont to release unto the people a prisoner,\n    whom they would. 16. And they had then a notable\n    prisoner, called Barabbas. 17. Therefore when they were\n    gathered together, Pilate said unto them, Whom will ye\n    that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is\n    called Christ? 18. For he knew that for envy they had\n    delivered Him. 19. When he was set down on the judgment\n    seat, his wife sent unto him, saying, Have thou nothing\n    to do with that just man: for I have suffered many\n    things this day in a dream because of Him. 20. But the\n    chief priests and elders persuaded the multitude that\n    they should ask Barabbas, and destroy Jesus. 21. The\n    governor answered and said unto them, Whether of the\n    twain will ye that I release unto you? They said,\n    Barabbas. 22. Pilate saith unto them, What shall I do\n    then with Jesus which is called Christ? They all say\n    unto him, Let Him be crucified. 23. And the governor\n    said, Why, what evil hath He done? But they cried out\n    the more, saying, Let him be crucified. 24. When Pilate\n    saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a\n    tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands\n    before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the\n    blood of this just Person: see ye to it. 25. Then\n    answered all the people, and said, His blood be on us,\n    and on our children. 26. Then released he Barabbas unto\n    them: and when he had scourged Jesus, he delivered Him\n    to be crucified.'--ST. MATT. xxvii. 11-26.\n\nThe principal figures in this passage are Pilate and the Jewish\nrulers and people. Jesus is all but passive. They are busy in\ncondemning Him, and little know that they are condemning themselves.\nThey are unconsciously exemplifying the tragic truth of Christ's\nsaying, 'Whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken.' They\ndo not dislodge it, but their attempt to dislodge it wounds them.\n\nI. Matthew gives a very summary account of our Lord's appearing\nbefore Pilate, but, brief as it is, and much as it omits, it throws\nup into strong light the two essential points,--Christ's declaration\nthat He was the King of the Jews, and His silence while a storm of\naccusations raged around Him. As to the former, it was the only\ncharge with which Pilate was properly concerned. He had a right to\nknow whether this strange criminal was dangerous to Rome, because He\nclaimed kingship, and, if he were satisfied that He was not, his\nbounden duty was to liberate Him. One can understand the scornful\nemphasis which Pilate laid on 'Thou' as he looked on his Prisoner,\nwho certainly would not seem to his practical eyes a very formidable\nleader of revolt. There is a world of contempt, amused rather than\nalarmed, in the question, and behind it lies the consciousness of\ncommanding legions enough to crush any rising headed by such a\nperson. John's account shows the pains which Jesus took to make sure\nof the sense in which the question was asked before He answered it,\nand then to make clear that His kingship bore no menace to Rome.\nThat being made plain, He answered with an affirmative. Just as He\nhad in unmistakable language claimed before the Sanhedrin to be the\nMessiah, the Son of God, so He claimed before Pilate to be the King\nof Israel, answering each tribunal as to what each had the right to\ninquire into, and thus 'before Pontius Pilate witnessing the good\nconfession,' and leaving both tribunals without excuse. Jesus died\nbecause He would not bate His claims to Messianic dignity. Did He\nfling away His life for a false conception of Himself? He was either\na dreamer intoxicated with an illusion, and His death was suicide,\nor He was--what?\n\nThe one avowal was all that Pilate was entitled to. For the rest Jesus\nlocked His lips, and He whose very name was The Word was silent. What\nwas the meaning of that silence? It was not disdain, nor unwillingness\nto make Himself known; but it was partly merciful--inasmuch as He knew\nthat all speech would have been futile, and would but have added to\nthe condemnation of such hearers as Caiaphas, Herod, and Pilate--and\npartly judicial. Still more was it the silence of perfect, unresisting\nsubmission,--'as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so He openeth\nnot His mouth.' And it is a pattern for us, as Peter tells us in his\nEpistle; for it is with regard to this very matter of taking unjust\nsuffering patiently and without resistance that the apostle says that\nJesus has 'left us an example.' There are limits to such silent\nendurance of wrong, for Paul defended himself tooth and nail before\npriests and kings; but Christ's followers are strongest by meek\npatience, and descend when they take a leaf out of their enemies' book.\n\nII. The next point is Pilate's weak attempt to save Jesus. Christ's\nsilence had impressed Pilate, and, if he had been a true man, he\nwould not have stopped at 'marvelling greatly.' He was clearly\nconvinced of Christ's innocence of any crime that threatened Roman\nsupremacy, and therefore was bound to have given effect to his\nconvictions, and let Jesus go. He had read the motives of the\npriests, which were too plain for a shrewd man of the world to be\nblind to them. That Jews should be taken with such a sudden fit of\nloyalty as to yell for the death of a fellow-countryman because he\nwas a rebel against Caesar was too absurd to swallow, and Pilate was\nnot taken in. He knew that something else was working below ground,\nand hit on 'envy' as the solution. He was not far wrong; for the\nzeal which to the priests themselves seemed to be excited by devout\nregard for God's honour was really kindled by determination to keep\ntheir own prerogatives, and keen insight into the curtailment of\nthese which would follow if this Jesus were recognised as Messiah.\nPilate's diagnosis coincided with Christ's in the parable: 'This is\nthe Heir; come, let us kill Him, and the inheritance shall be ours.'\n\nSo, willing to deliver Jesus, and yet afraid to cross the wishes of\nhis ticklish subjects, Pilate, like other weak men, tries a trick by\nwhich he may get his way and seem to give them theirs. He hoped that\nthey would choose Jesus rather than Barabbas as the object of the\ncustomary release. It was ingenious of him to narrow the choice to\none or other of the two, ignoring all other prisoners who might have\nhad the benefit of the custom. But there is also, perhaps, a dash of\nsarcasm, and a hint of his having penetrated the priests' motives,\nin his confining their choice to Jesus or Barabbas; for Barabbas was\nwhat they had charged Jesus with being,--a rebel; and, if they\npreferred him to Jesus, the hypocrisy of their suspicious loyalty\nwould be patent. The same sub-acid tone is obvious in Pilate's twice\ndesignating our Lord as 'Jesus which is called Christ.' He delights\nto mortify them by pushing the title into their faces, as it were.\nHe dare not be just, and he relieves and revenges himself by being\ncynical and mocking.\n\nIII. Having referred the choice to the 'multitude,' Pilate takes his\nplace on his official seat to wait for, and then to ratify, their\nvote. In that pause, he perhaps felt some compunction at paltering\nwith justice, which it was Rome's one virtue to administer. How his\nwife's message would increase his doubt! Was her dream a divine\nwarning, or a mere reflection in sleep of waking thoughts? It is\nnoticeable that Matthew records several dreams which conveyed God's\nwill,--for example, to Joseph and to the Magi, and here may be\nanother instance; or some tidings as to Jesus may have reached the\nlady, though not her husband, and her womanly sense of right may\nhave shaped the dream, and given her vivid impressions of the danger\nof abetting a judicial murder. But Matthew seems to tell of her\nintervention mainly in order to preserve her testimony to Jesus'\ninnocence, and to point out one more of the fences which Pilate\ntrampled down in his dread of offending the rulers. A wife's\nmessage, conveying what both he and she probably regarded as a\nsupernatural warning, was powerless to keep him back from his\ndisgraceful failure of duty.\n\nIV. While he was fighting against the impression of that message,\nthe rulers were busy in the crowd, suggesting the choice of\nBarabbas. It was perhaps his wife's words that stung him to act at\nonce, and have done with his inner conflict. So he calls for the\ndecision of the alternative which he had already submitted. His\ndignity would suffer, if he had to wait longer for an answer. He got\nit at once, and the unanimous vote was for Barabbas. Probably the\nrulers had skilfully manipulated the people. The multitude is easily\nled by demagogues, but, left to itself, its instincts are usually\nright, though its perception of character is often mistaken. Why was\nBarabbas preferred? Probably just because he had been cast into\nprison for sedition, and so was thought to be a good patriot.\nPopular heroes often win their reputation by very questionable acts,\nand Barabbas was forgiven his being a murderer for the sake of his\nbeing a rebel. But it was not so much that Barabbas was loved as\nthat Jesus was hated, and it was not the multitude so much as the\nrulers that hated him. Many of those now shrieking 'Crucify Him!'\nhad shouted 'Hosanna!' a day or two before till they were hoarse.\nThe populace was guilty of fickleness, blindness, rashness, too easy\ncredence of the crafty calumnies of the rulers. But a far deeper\nstain rests on these rulers who had resisted the light, and were now\nanimated by the basest self-interest in the garb of keen regard for\nthe honour of God. There were very different degrees of guilt in the\nmany voices that roared 'Barabbas!'\n\nPilate made one more feeble attempt to save Jesus by asking what was\nto be done with Him. The question was an ignoble abdication of his\njudicial office, and perhaps was meant as a salve for his own\nconscience, and an excuse to his wife, enabling him to say, 'I did\nnot crucify Him; they did,'--a miserable pretext, the last resort of\na weak man, who knew that he was doing a wrong and cowardly thing.\n\nV. The same nervous fear and vain attempt to shuffle responsibility\noff himself give tragic interest to his theatrical washing of his\nhands. The one thing that he feared was a riot, which would be like\na spark in a barrel of gunpowder, if it broke out at the Passover,\nwhen Jerusalem swarmed with excited crowds. To avoid that, the\nsacrifice of one Jew's life was a small matter, even though he was\nan interesting and remarkable person, and Pilate knew Him to be\nperfectly harmless.\n\nBut no washing of hands could shift the guilt from Pilate.\n\n  'Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood\n   Clean from my hand? No.'\n\nHis vain declaration of innocence is an acknowledgment of guilt, for\nhe is forced by conscience to declare that Jesus is a 'righteous\nMan,' and, as such, He should have been under the broad shield of\nRoman justice. We too often deceive ourselves by throwing the blame\nof our sins on companions or circumstances, and try to cheat our\nconsciences into silence. But our guilt is ours, however many allies\nwe have had, and however strong have been our temptations; and\nthough we may say, 'I am innocent,' God will sooner or later say to\neach of us, 'Thou art the man!'\n\nThe wild cry of passion with which the multitude accepted the\nresponsibility has been only too completely fulfilled in the\nmillennium-long Iliad of woes which has attended the Jews. Surely,\nthe existence, in such circumstances, for all these centuries, of\nthat strange, weird, fated race, is a standing miracle, and the most\nconspicuous proof that 'verily, there is a God that judgeth in the\nearth.' But it is also a prophecy that Israel shall 'turn to the\nLord,' and that the blood which has so long been on them as a crime,\ncarrying its own punishment, will at last be sprinkled on their\nhearts, and take away their sin.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CRUCIFIXION\n\n\n    'And when they were come unto a place called Golgotha,\n    that is to say, a place of a skull, 34. They gave Him\n    vinegar to drink mingled with gall: and when He had\n    tasted thereof, He would not drink. 35. And they\n    crucified Him, and parted His garments, casting lots:\n    that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the\n    prophet, They parted My garments among them, and upon\n    My vesture did they cast lots. 36. And sitting down\n    they watched Him there; 37. And set up over His head\n    His accusation written, THIS IS JESUS THE KING OF THE\n    JEWS. 38. Then were there two thieves crucified with\n    Him, one on the right hand, and another on the left\n    39. And they that passed by reviled Him, wagging their\n    heads, 40. And saying, Thou that destroyest the temple,\n    and buildest it in three days, save Thyself. If Thou be\n    the Son of God, come down from the cross. 41. Likewise\n    also the chief priests mocking Him, with the scribes\n    and elders, said, 42. He saved others; Himself He\n    cannot save. If He be the King of Israel, let Him now\n    come down from the cross, and we will believe Him.\n    43. He trusted in God; let Him deliver Him now, if He\n    will have Him: for He said, I am the Son of God.\n    44. The thieves also, which were crucified with Him,\n    cast the same in His teeth. 45. Now from the sixth hour\n    there was darkness over all the land unto the ninth\n    hour. 46. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a\n    loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that\n    is to say, My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?\n    47. Some of them that stood there, when they heard\n    that, said. This Man calleth for Elias. 48. And\n    straightway one of them ran, and took a spunge, and\n    filled it with vinegar, and put it on a reed, and gave\n    Him to drink. 49. The rest said, Let be, let us see\n    whether Elias will come to save Him. 50. Jesus, when He\n    had cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost.'\n    --MATT. xxvii. 33-50.\n\nThe characteristic of Matthew's account of the crucifixion is its\nrepresentation of Jesus as perfectly passive and silent. His refusal\nof the drugged wine, His cry of desolation, and His other cry at\ndeath, are all His recorded acts. The impression of the whole is 'as\na sheep before his shearers is dumb, so He openeth not His mouth.'\nWe are bid to look on the grim details of the infliction of the\nterrible death, and to listen to the mockeries of people and\npriests; but reverent awe forbids description of Him who hung there\nin His long, silent agony. Would that like reticence had checked the\nill-timed eloquence of preachers and teachers of later days!\n\nI. We have the ghastly details of the crucifixion.--Conder's\nsuggestion of the site of Calvary as a little knoll outside the\ncity, seems possible. It is now a low, bare hillock, with a scanty\nskin of vegetation over the rock, and in its rounded shape and bony\nrockiness explains why it was called 'skull.' It stands close to the\nmain Damascus road, so that there would be many 'passers by' on that\nfeast day. Its top commands a view over the walls into the temple\nenclosure, where, at the very hour of the death of Jesus, the\nPassover lamb was perhaps being slain. Arrived at the place, the\nexecutioners go about their task with stolid precision. What was the\ncrucifying of another Jew or two to them? Before they lift the cross\nor fasten their prisoner to it, a little touch of pity, or perhaps\nonly the observance of the usual custom, leads them to offer a\ndraught of wine, in which some anodyne had been mixed, to deaden\nagony. But the cup which He had to drink needed that He should be in\nfull possession of all His sensibilities to pain, and of all His\nunclouded firmness of resolve; and so His patient lips closed\nagainst the offered mercy. He would not drink because He would\nsuffer, and He would suffer because He would redeem. His last act\nbefore He was nailed to the cross was an act of voluntary refusal of\nan opened door of escape from some portion of His pains.\n\nWhat a gap there is between verses 34 and 35! The unconcerned\nsoldiers went on to the next step in their ordinary routine on such\nan occasion,--the fixing of the cross and fastening of the victim to\nit. To them it was only what they had often done before; to Matthew,\nit was too sacred to be narrated, He cannot bring his pen to write\nit. As it were, he bids us turn away our eyes for a moment; and when\nnext we look, the deed is done, and there stands the cross, and the\nLord hanging, dumb and unresisting, on it. We see not Him, but the\nsoldiers, busy at their next task. So little were they touched by\ncompassion or awe, that they paid no heed to Him, and suspended\ntheir work to make sure of their perquisites,--the poor robes which\nthey stripped from His body. Thus gently Matthew hints at the\nignominy of exposure attendant on crucifixion, and gives the measure\nof the hard stolidity of the guards. Gain had been their first\nthought, comfort was their second. They were a little tired with\ntheir march and their work, and they had to stop there on guard for\nan indefinite time, with nothing to do but two more prisoners to\ncrucify: so they take a rest, and idly keep watch over Him till He\nshall die. How possible it is to look at Christ's sufferings and see\nnothing! These rude legionaries gazed for hours on what has touched\nthe world ever since, and what angels desired to look into, and saw\nnothing but a dying Jew. They thought about the worth of the\nclothes, or about how long they would have to stay there, and in the\npresence of the most stupendous fact in the world's history were all\nunmoved. We too may gaze on the cross and see nothing. We too may\nlook at it without emotion, because without faith, or any\nconsciousness of what it may mean for us. Only they who see there\nthe sacrifice for their sins and the world's, see what is there.\nOthers are as blind as, and less excusable than, these soldiers who\nwatched all day by the Cross, seeing nothing, and tramped back at\nnight to their barrack utterly ignorant of what they had been doing.\nBut their work was not quite done. There was still a piece of grim\nmockery to be performed, which they would much enjoy. The 'cause,'\nas Matthew calls it, had to be nailed to the upper part of the\ncross. It was tri-lingual, as John tells us,--in Hebrew, the\nlanguage of revelation; in Greek, the tongue of philosophy and art;\nin Latin, the speech of law and power. The three chief forces of the\nhuman spirit gave unconscious witness to the King; the three chief\nlanguages of the western world proclaimed His universal monarchy,\neven while they seemed to limit it to one nation. It was meant as a\ngibe at Him and at the nation, and as Pilate's statement of the\nreason for his sentence; but it meant more than Pilate meant by it,\nand it was fitting that His royal title should hang above His head;\nfor the cross is His throne, and He is the King of men because He\nhas died for them all. One more piece of work the soldiers had still\nto do. The crucifixion of the two robbers (perhaps of Barabbas'\ngang, though less fortunate than he) by Christ's side was intended\nto associate Him in the public mind with them and their crimes, and\nwas the last stroke of malice, as if saying, 'Here is your King, and\nhere are two of His subjects and ministers.' Matthew says nothing of\nthe triumph of Christ's love, which won the poor robber for a\ndisciple even at that hour of ignominy. His one purpose seems to be\nto accumulate the tokens of suffering and shame, and so to emphasise\nthe silent endurance of the meek Lamb of God. Therefore, without a\nword about any of our Lord's acts or utterances, he passes on to the\nnext group of incidents.\n\nII. The mockeries of people and priests. There would be many coming\nand going on the adjoining road, most of them too busy about their\nown affairs to delay long; for crucifixion was a slow process, and,\nwhen once the cross has been lifted, there would be little to see.\nBut they were not too busy to spit venom at Him as they passed. How\nmany of these scoffers, to whom death cast no shield round the\nobject of their poor taunts, had shouted themselves hoarse on the\nMonday, and waved palm branches that were not withered yet! What had\nmade the change? There was no change. They were running with the\nstream in both their hosannas and their jeers, and the one were\nworth as much as the other. They had been tutored to cry, 'Blessed\nis He that cometh!' and now they were tutored to repeat what had\nbeen said at the trial about destroying the temple. The worshippers\nof success are true to themselves when they mock at failure. They\nwho shout round Jesus, when other people are doing it, are only\nconsistent when they join in the roar of execration. Let us take\ncare that our worship of Him is rooted in our own personal\nexperience, and independent of what rulers or influential minds today\nsay of Him.\n\nA common passion levels all distinctions of culture and rank. The\nreverend dignitaries echoed the ferocious ridicule of the mob, whom\nthey despised so much. The poorest criminal would have been left to\ndie in peace; but brutal laughter surged round the silent sufferer,\nand showers of barbed sarcasms were flung at Him. The throwers\nfancied them exquisite jests, and demonstrations of the absurdity of\nChrist's claims; but they were really witnesses to His claims, and\nexplanations of His sufferings. Look at them in turn, with this\nthought in our minds. 'He saved others; Himself He cannot save,' was\nlaunched as a sarcasm which confuted His alleged miracles by His\npresent helplessness. How much it admits, even while it denies!\nThen, He did work miracles; and they were all for others, never for\nHis own ends; and they were all for saving, never for destroying.\nThen, too, by this very taunt His claim to be the 'Saviour' is\npresupposed. And so, 'Physician, heal Thyself,' seemed to them an\nunanswerable missile to fling. If they had only known what made the\n'cannot,' and seen that it was a 'will not,' they would have stood\nfull in front of the great miracle of love which was before them\nunsuspected, and would have learned that the not saving Himself,\nwhich they thought blew to atoms His pretensions to save others, was\nreally the condition of His saving a world. If He is to save others\nHe cannot save Himself. That is the law for all mutual help. The\nlamp burns out in giving light, but the necessity for the death of\nHim who is the life of the world is founded on a deeper 'must.' His\nonly way of delivering us from the burden of sin is His taking it on\nHimself. He has to 'bear our griefs and carry our sorrows,' if He is\nto bear away the sin of the world. But the 'cannot' derives all its\npower from His own loving will. The rulers' taunt was a venomous\nlie, as they meant it. If for 'cannot' we read 'will not,' it is the\ncentral truth of the Gospel.\n\nNor did they succeed better with their second gibe, which made mirth\nof such a throne, and promised allegiance if He would come down. O\nblind leaders of the blind! That death which seemed to them to\nshatter His royalty really established it. His Cross is His throne\nof saving power, by which He sways hearts and wills, and because of\nit He receives from the Father universal dominion, and every knee\nshall bow to Him. It is just because He did not come down from it\nthat we believe on Him. On His head are many crowns; but, however\nmany they be, they all grow out of the crown of thorns. The true\nkingship is absolute command over willingly submitted spirits; and\nit is His death which bows us before Him in raptures of glad love\nwhich counts submission, liberty, and sacrifice blessed. He has the\nright to command because He has given Himself for us, and His death\nwakes all-surrendering and all-expecting faith.\n\nNor was the third taunt more fortunate. These very religious men had\nread their Bibles so badly that they might never have heard of Job,\nnor of the latter half of Isaiah. They had been poring over the\nletter all their lives, and had never seen, with their microscopes,\nthe great figure of the Innocent Sufferer, so plain there. So they\nthought that the Cross demonstrated the hollowness of Jesus' trust\nin God, and the rejection of Him by God. Surely religious teachers\nshould have been slow to scoff at religious trust, and surely they\nmight have known that failure and disaster even to death were no\nsigns of God's displeasure. But, in one aspect, they were right. It\nis a mystery that such a life should end thus; and the mystery is\nnone the less because many another less holy life has also ended in\nsuffering. But the mystery is solved when we know that God did not\ndeliver Him, just because He 'would have Him,' and that the Father's\ndelight in the Son reached its very highest point when He became\nobedient until death, and offered Himself 'a sacrifice acceptable,\nwell pleasing unto God.'\n\nIII. We pass on to the darkness, desolation, and death. Matthew\nrepresents these three long hours from noon till what answers to our\n3 P.M. as passed in utter silence by Christ. What went on beneath\nthat dread veil, we are not meant to know. Nor do we need to ask its\nphysical cause or extent. It wrapped the agony from cruel eyes; it\nsymbolised the blackness of desolation in His spirit, and by it God\ndraped the heavens in mourning for man's sin. What were the\nonlookers doing then? Did they cease their mocking, and feel some\ntouch of awe creeping over them?\n\n  'His brow was chill with dying,\n   And His soul was faint with loss.'\n\nThe cry that broke the awful silence, and came out of the darkness,\nwas more awful still. The fewer our words the better; only we may\nmark how, even in His agony, Jesus has recourse to prophetic words,\nand finds in a lesser sufferer's cry voice for His desolation.\nFurther, we may reverently note the marvellous blending of trust and\nsense of desertion. He feels that God has left Him, and yet he holds\non to God. His faith, as a man, reached its climax in that supreme\nhour when, loaded with the mysterious burden of God's abandonment,\nHe yet cried in His agony, 'My God!' and that with reduplicated\nappeal. Separation from God is the true death, the 'wages of sin';\nand in that dread hour He bore in His own consciousness the\nuttermost of its penalty. The physical fact of Christ's death, if it\ncould have taken place without this desolation from the\nconsciousness of separation from God, would not have been the\nbearing of all the consequences of man's sins. The two must never be\nparted in our grateful contemplations; and, while we reverently\nabjure the attempt to pierce into that which God hid from us by the\ndarkness, we must reverently ponder what Christ revealed to us by\nthe cry that cleft it, witnessing that He then was indeed bearing\nthe whole weight of a world's sin. By the side of such thoughts, and\nin the presence of such sorrow, the clumsy jest of the bystanders,\nwhich caught at the half-heard words, and pretended to think that\nJesus was a crazy fanatic calling for Elijah with his fiery chariot\nto come and rescue Him, may well be passed by. One little touch of\nsympathy moistened His dying lips, not without opposition from the\nheartless crew who wanted to have their jest out. Then came the end.\nThe loud cry of the dying Christ is worthy of record; for\ncrucifixion ordinarily killed by exhaustion, and this cry was\nevidence of abundant remaining vitality. In accordance therewith,\nthe fact of death is expressed by a phrase, which, though used for\nordinary deaths, does yet naturally express the voluntariness of\nChrist. 'He sent away His spirit,' as if He had bid it depart, and\nit obeyed. Whether the expression may be fairly pressed so far or\nno, the fact is the same, that Jesus died, not because He was\ncrucified, but because He chose. He was the Lord and Master of\nDeath; and when He bid His armour-bearer strike, the slave struck,\nand the King died, not like Saul on the field of his defeat, but a\nvictor in and by and over death.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLIND WATCHERS AT THE CROSS\n\n    'And sitting down they watched Him there.'\n    --MATT. xxvii. 36.\n\nOur thoughts are, rightly, so absorbed by the central Figure in this\ngreat chapter that we pass by almost unnoticed the groups round the\ncross. And yet there are large lessons to be learned from each of\nthem. These rude soldiers, four in number, as we infer from John's\nGospel, had no doubt joined with their comrades in the coarse\nmockery which preceded the sad procession to Calvary; and then they\nhad to do the rough work of the executioners, fastening the\nsufferers to the rude wooden crosses, lifting these, with their\nburden, filing them into the ground, then parting the raiment. And\nwhen all that is done they sit stolidly down to take their ease at\nthe foot of the cross, and idly to wait, with eyes that look and see\nnothing, until the sufferers die. A strange picture; and a strange\nthing to think of, how they were so close to the great event in the\nworld's history, and had to stare at it for three or four hours, and\nnever saw anything!\n\nThe lessons that the incident teaches us may be very simply gathered\ntogether.\n\nI. First we infer from this the old truth of how ignorant men are of\nthe real meaning and outcome of what they do.\n\nThese four Roman soldiers were foreigners; I suppose that they could\nnot speak a word to a man in that crowd. They had no means of\ncommunication with them. They had had plenty of practice in\ncrucifying Jews. It was part of their ordinary work in these\ntroublesome times, and this was just one more. Think of what a\ncorporal's guard of rough English soldiers, out in Northern India,\nwould think if they were bidden to hang a native who was charged\nwith rebellion against the British Government. So much, and not one\nwhit more, did these men know of what they were doing; and they went\nback to their barracks, stolid and unconcerned, and utterly ignorant\nof what they had been about.\n\nBut in part it is so with us all, though in less extreme fashion.\nNone of us know the real meaning, and none of us know the possible\nissues and outcome of a great deal of our lives. We are like people\nsowing seed in the dark; it is put into our hands and we sow. We do\nthe deed; this end of it is in our power, but where it runs out to,\nand what will come of it, lie far beyond our ken. We are compassed\nabout, wherever we go, by this atmosphere of mystery, and enclosed\nwithin a great ring of blackness.\n\nAnd so the simple lesson to be drawn from that clear fact, about all\nour conduct, is this--let results alone. Never mind about what you\ncannot get hold of; you cannot see to the other end, and you have\nnothing to do with it. You can see this end; make that right. Be\nsure that the motive is right, and then into whatever unlooked-for\nconsequences your act may run out at the further end, you will be\nright. Never mind what kind of harvest is coming out of your deeds,\nyou cannot forecast it. 'Thou soweth not that body that shall be,\nbut bare grain.... God giveth it a body as it pleaseth Him.' Let\nalone that profitless investigation, the attempt to fashion and\nunderstand either the significance or the issues of your conduct,\nand stick fast by this--look after your motive for doing it, and\nyour temper in doing it; and then be quite sure, 'Thou shalt find it\nafter many days,' and the fruit will be 'unto praise and honour and\nglory at the appearing of Jesus Christ.'\n\nII. Take another very simple and equally plain lesson from this\nincident, viz., the limitation of responsibility by knowledge.\n\nThese men, as I said, were ignorant of what they were doing, and,\ntherefore, they were guiltless. Christ Himself said so: 'They know\nnot what they do.' But it is marvellous to observe that whilst the\npeople who stood round the cross, and were associated in the act\nthat led Jesus there, had all degrees of responsibility, the least\nguilty of the whole were the men who did the actual work of nailing\nHim to the cross, and lifting it with Him upon it. These soldiers\nwere not half as much to blame as were many of the men that stood\nby; and just in the measure in which the knowledge or the\npossibility of knowledge increased, just in that measure did the\nresponsibility increase. The high priest was a great deal more to\nblame than the Roman soldiers. The rude tool that nailed Christ to\nthe cross, the hammer that was held in the hand of the legionary,\nwas almost as much to blame as the hand that wielded it. For the\nhand that wielded it had very little more knowledge than it had.\n\nIn so far as it was possible that these men might have known\nsomething of what they were doing, in so far were they to blame; but\nremember what a very, very little light could possibly have shone\nupon these souls. If there is no light there cannot be any shadow;\nand if these men were, as certainly they were, all but absolutely\nignorant, and never could have been anything else, of what they were\ndoing, then they were all but absolutely guiltless. And so you come\nto this, which is only a paradox to superficial thinkers, that the\nmen that did the greatest crime in the whole history of the world,\ndid it with all but clean hands; and the people that were to be\ncondemned were those who delivered 'the Just One' into the hands of\nmore lawless, and therefore less responsible, men.\n\nSo here is the general principle, that as knowledge and light rise\nand fall, so responsibility rises and falls along with them. And\ntherefore let us be thankful that we have not to judge one another,\nbut that we have all to stand before that merciful and loving\ntribunal of the God who is a God of knowledge, and by whom actions\nare _weighed_, as the Old Book has it--not _counted_, but weighed. And\nlet us be thankful, too, that we may extend our charity to all round\nus, and refrain from thinking of any man or woman that we can pronounce\nupon their criminality, because we do not know the light in which they\nwalk.\n\nIII. And now the last lesson, and the one that I most desire to lay\nupon your hearts, is this, how possible it is to look at Christ on\nthe cross, and see nothing.\n\nFor half a day there they sat, and it was but a dying Jew that they\nsaw, one of three. A touch of pity came into their hearts once or\ntwice, alternating to mockery, which was not savage because it was\nsimply brutal; but when it was all over, and they had pierced His\nside, and gone away back to their barracks, they had not the least\nnotion that they, with their dim, purblind eyes, had been looking at\nthe most stupendous miracle in the whole world's history, had been\ngazing at the thing into which angels desired to look; and had seen\nthat to which the hearts and the gratitude of unconverted millions\nwould turn for all eternity. They laid their heads down on their\npillows that night and did not know what had passed before their\neyes, and they shut the eyes that had served them so ill, and went\nto sleep, unconscious that they had seen the pivot on which the\nwhole history of humanity had turned; and been the unmoved witnesses\nof 'God manifest in the flesh,' dying on the cross for the whole\nworld, and for them. What should they have seen if they had seen the\nreality? They should have seen not a dying rebel but a dying Christ;\nthey should have looked with emotion, they should have looked with\nfaith, they should have looked with thankfulness.\n\nAny one who looks at that cross, and sees nothing but a pure and\nperfect man dying upon it, is very nearly as blind as the Roman\nlegionaries. Any one to whom it is only an example of perfect\ninnocence and patient suffering has only seem an inch into the\nInfinite; and the depths of it are as much concealed from him as\nthey were from them. Any one who looks with an unmoved heart,\nwithout one thrill of gratitude, is nearly as blind as the rough\nsoldiers. He that looks and does not say--\n\n  'My faith would lay her hand\n   On that dear head of Thine;\n   While like a penitent I stand\n   And there confess my sin,'\n\nhas not learned more of the meaning of the Cross than they did. And\nany one who looks to it, and then turns away and forgets, or who\nlooks at it and fails to recognise in it the law of his own life and\npattern for his own conduct, has yet to see more deeply into it\nbefore he sees even such portion of its meaning as here we can\napprehend.\n\nOh! dear friends, we all of us, as the apostle says in one of his\nletters, have had this Christ 'manifestly set forth before us as if\npainted upon a placard upon a wall' (for that is the meaning of the\npicturesque words that he employs). And if we look with calm,\nunmoved hearts; if we look without personal appropriation of that\nCross and dying love to ourselves, and if we look without our hearts\ngoing out in thankfulness and laying themselves at His feet in a\ncalm rapture of life-long devotion, then we need not wonder that\nfour ignorant heathen men sat and looked at Him for four long hours\nand saw nothing, for we are as blind as ever they were.\n\nYou say, 'We see.' Do you see? Do you look? Does the look touch your\nhearts? Have you fathomed the meaning of the fact? Is it to you the\nsacrifice of the living Christ for your salvation? Is it to you the\ndeath on which all your hopes rest? You say that you see. Do you see\nthat in it? Do you see your only ground of confidence and peace? And\ndo you so see that, like a man who has looked at the sun for a\nmoment or two, when you turn away your head you carry the image of\nwhat you beheld still stamped on your eyeball, and have it both as a\nmemory and a present impression? So is the cross photographed on\nyour heart; and is it true about us that every day, and all days, we\nbehold our Saviour, and beholding Him are being changed into His\nlikeness? Is it true about us that we thus bear about with us in the\nbody 'the dying of the Lord Jesus'? If we look to Him with faith and\nlove, and make His Cross our own, and keep it ever in our memory,\never before us as an inspiration and a hope and a joy and a pattern,\nthen we see. If not, 'for judgment am I come into the world, that\nthey which see not may see, and that they which see might be made\nblind.' For what men are so blind to the infinite pathos and\ntenderness, power, mystery, and miracle of the Cross, as the men and\nwomen who all their lives long have heard a Gospel which has been\nheld up before their lack-lustre eyes, and have looked at it so long\nthat they cannot see it any more?\n\nLet us pray that our eyes may be purged, that we may see, and seeing\nmay copy, that dying love of the ever-loving Lord.\n\n\n\n\nTAUNTS TURNING TO TESTIMONIES\n\n\n    '... The chief priests mocking Him ... said, 42. He\n    saved others; Himself He cannot save. If He be the\n    King of Israel, let Him now come down from the cross,\n    and we will believe Him. 43. He trusted in God; let\n    Him deliver Him now, if He will have Him.'\n    --MATT. xxvii. 41-43.\n\nIt is an old saying that the corruption of the best is the worst.\nWhat is more merciful and pitiful than true religion? What is more\nmerciless and malicious than hatred which calls itself 'religious'?\nThese priests, like many a persecutor for religion since, came to\nfeast their eyes on the long-drawn-out agonies of their Victim, and\ntheir rank tongues blossomed into foul speech. Characteristically\nenough, though they shared in the mockeries of the mob, they kept\nthemselves separate. The crowd pressed near enough to the cross to\nspeak their gibes _to_ Jesus; the dignified movers of the\nignorant crowd stood superciliously apart, and talked scoffingly\n_about_ Him. Whilst the populace yelled, 'Thou that destroyest\nthe Temple and buildest it in three days, come down,' the chief\npriests, with the scribes, looked at each other with a smile, and\nsaid, '_He_ saved others; Himself _He_ cannot save.'   Now,\nthese brutal taunts have lessons for us. They witness to the popular\nimpression of Christ, and what His claims were. He asserted Himself\nto be a worker of miracles, the Messiah-King of Israel, the Son of God,\ntherefore He died. And they witness to the misconception which ruled\nin the minds of these priests as to the relation of His claims to the\nCross. They thought that it had finally burst the bubble, and disposed\nonce for all of these absurd and blasphemous pretensions. Was it\ncredible that a man who possessed miraculous power should not, in\nthis supreme moment, use it to deliver Himself? Did not 'Physician,\nheal Thyself,' come in properly there? Would any of the most besotted\nfollowers of this pretender retain a rag of belief in His Messiahship\nif He was crucified? Could it be possible that, if there was a God at\nall, He should leave a man that really trusted in Him, not to say\nwho was really His Son, to die thus? A cracked mirror gives a distorted\nimage. The facts were seen, but their relation was twisted. If we will\ntake the guidance of these gibes, and see what is the real explanation\nto the anomaly that they suggest, then we shall find that the taunts\nturn to Him for a testimony, and that 'out of the mouths of mockers\nthere is 'perfected praise.' The stones flung at the Master turn to\nroses strewed in His path.\n\nI. So, then, first the Cross shows us the Saviour who could not save\nHimself.\n\nThe priests did not believe in Christ's miracles, and they thought\nthat this final token of his impotence, as they took it to be, was\nclear proof that the miracles were either tricks or mistakes. They\nsaw the two things, they fatally misunderstood the relation between\nthem. Let us put the two things together.\n\nHere, on the one hand, is a Man who has exercised absolute authority\nin all the realms of the universe, who has spoken to dead matter,\nand it has obeyed; who by His word has calmed the storm, and hushed\nthe winds by His word, has multiplied bread, has transmuted pale water\ninto ruddy wine; who has moved omnipotent amongst the disturbed minds\nand diseased bodies of men, who has cast His sovereign word into the\ndepth and darkness of the grave, and brought out the dead, stumbling\nand entangled in the grave-clothes. All these are facts on the one\nside. And on the other there is this--that there, passive, and, to\nsuperficial eyes, impotent, He hangs the helpless Victim of Roman\nsoldiers and of Jewish priests. The short and easy vulgar way to\nsolve the apparent contradiction was to deny the reality of the one\nof its members; to say 'Miracles? Absurd! He never worked one, or He\nwould have been working one now.'\n\nBut let their error lead us into truth, and let us grasp the\nrelation of the two apparently contradictory facts. 'He saved\nothers,' that is certain. He did not 'save Himself,' that is\nas certain. Was the explanation 'cannot'? The priests by 'cannot'\nmeant physical impossibility, defect of power, and they were\nwrong. But there is a profound sense in which the word 'cannot'\nis absolutely true. For this is in all time, and in all human\nrelations, the law of service--sacrifice; and no man can truly\nhelp humanity, or an individual, unless he is prepared to\nsurrender himself in the service. The lamp burns away in giving\nlight. The fire consumes in warming the hearth, and no brotherly\nsympathy or help has ever yet been rendered, or ever will be,\nexcept at the price of self-surrender. Now, some people think\nthat this is the whole explanation of our Lord's history, both\nin His life and in His death. I do not believe that it is the\nwhole explanation, but I do believe it carries us some way\ntowards the central sanctuary, where the explanation lies. And\nyet it is not complete or adequate, because, to parallel Christ's\nwork with the work of any of the rest of us to our brethren,\nhowever beautiful, disinterested, self-oblivious, and self-consuming\nit may be, seems to me--I say it with deference, though I must here\nremember considerations of brevity and be merely assertive--entirely\nto ignore the unique special characteristic of the work of Jesus\nChrist--viz., that it was the atonement for the sins of the world.\nHe could not bear away our sins, unless the burden of them was laid\non His own back, and He carried our griefs, our sorrows, our diseases,\nand our transgressions. 'He saved others, Himself He cannot save.' But\nthe impossibility was purely the result of His own willing and obedient\nlove; or, if I put it in more epigrammatic form, the priests' 'cannot'\nwas partially true, but if they had said '_would not_' they would\nhave hit the mark, and come to full truth. The reason for His death\nbecomes clear, and each of the contrasted facts is enhanced, when we\nset side by side the opulence and ease of His manifold miracles and\nthe apparent impotence and resourcelessness of the passive Victim on\nthe cross.\n\nThat 'cannot' did not come from defect of power, but from plenitude\nof love, and it was a 'will not' in its deepest depths. For you will\nfind scattered throughout Scripture, especially these Gospels,\nindications from our Lord's own lips, and by His own acts, that, in\nthe truest and fullest sense, His sufferings were voluntary. 'No man\ntaketh it from me'--He says about His life--'I have power to lay it\ndown, and I have power to take it again.' And once He did choose to\nflash out for a moment the always present power, that we might learn\nthat when it did not appear, it was not because he could not, but\nbecause he would not. When the soldiers came to lay their hands upon\nHim, He presented Himself before them, saving them all the trouble\nof search, and when He asked a question, and received the answer\nthat it was He of whom they were in search, there came one sudden\napocalypse of His majesty, and they fell to the ground, and lay\nthere prone before Him. They could have had no power at all against\nHim, except He had willed to surrender Himself to them. Again,\nthough it is hypercritical perhaps to attach importance to what may\nonly be natural idiomatic forms of speech, yet in this connection it\nis not to be overlooked that the language of all the Evangelists, in\ndescribing the supreme moment of Christ's death, is congruous with\nthe idea that He died neither from the exhaustion of crucifixion,\nnor from the thrust of the soldier's spear, but because He would.\nFor they all have expressions equivalent to that of one of them, 'He\ngave up His spirit.' Be that as it may, the 'cannot' was a 'will\nnot'; and it was neither nails that fastened Him to the tree, nor\nviolence that slew Him, but He was fixed there by His own steadfast\nwill, and He died because He would. So if we rightly understand the\n'cannot' we may take up with thankfulness the taunt which, as I say,\nis tuned to a testimony, and reiterate adoringly, 'He saved others,\nHimself He cannot save.'\n\nII. The Cross shows us the King on His throne.\n\nTo the priests it appeared ludicrous to suppose that a King of\nIsrael should, by Israel, be nailed upon the cross. 'Let Him come\ndown, and we will believe Him.' They saw the two facts, they\nmisconceived their relation. There was a relation between them, and\nit is not difficult for us to apprehend it.\n\nThe Cross is Christ's throne. There are two ways in which the\ntragedy of His crucifixion is looked at in the Gospels, one that\nprevails in the three first, another that prevails in the fourth.\nThese two seem superficially to be opposite; they are complementary.\nIt depends upon your station whether a point in the sky is your\n_zenith_ or your _nadir_. Here it is your zenith; at the antipodes\nit is the nadir. In the first three gospels the aspect of humiliation,\ndegradation, inanition, suffering, is prominent in the references to\nthe Crucifixion. In the _fourth_ gospel the aspect of glory and\ntriumph is uppermost. 'Even so must the Son of Man be lifted up'; 'I,\nif I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me'; 'Now the hour is come\nthat the Son of Man should be glorified.' And it _is_ His glory, for\non that Cross Jesus Christ manifests, in transcendent and superlative\nform, at once power and love that are boundless and divine. The Cross\nis the foundation of His kingdom. In his great passage in Philippians\nthe Apostle brings together, in the closest causal connection, His\nobedience unto death, the death of the Cross, and His exaltation and\nreception of 'the name that is above every name, that at the name of\nJesus every knee should bow.' The title over the Cross was meant for\na gibe. It was a prophecy. By the Cross He becomes the 'King,' and not\nonly the 'King of the Jews.' The sceptre that was put in His hand,\nthough it was meant for a sneer, was a forecast of a truth, for He\nrules, not with a rod of iron, but with the reed of gentleness; and\nthe crown of thorns, that was pressed down on His wounded and\nbleeding head, foretold for our faith the great truth that suffering is\nthe foundation of dominion, and that men will bow as to their King\nand Lord before Him who died for them, with a prostration of spirit, a\nloyalty of allegiance, and an alertness of service, which none\nother, monarch or superior, may even dream of attaining. The Cross\nestablishes, not destroys, Christ's dominion over men.\n\nYes; and that Cross wins their faith as nothing else can. The blind\npriests said, 'Let Him come down, and we will believe Him.'\nPrecisely because He did not come down, do sad and sorrowful and\nsinful hearts turn to Him from the ends of the earth, and from the\ndistances of the ages pour the treasures of their trust and their\nlove at His feet. Did you ever think how strange it is, except with\none explanation, that the gibes of the priests did not turn out to\nbe true? Why is it that Christ's shameful death did not burst the\nbubble, as they thought it had done? Why is it that in His case--and\nI was going to say, and it would have been no exaggeration, in His\ncase only--the death of the leader did not result in the dispersion\nof the led? Why is it that His fate and future were the opposite of\nthat of multitudes of other pseudo-Messiahs, of whom it is true that\nwhen they were slain their followers came to nought? Why? There is\nonly one explanation, I think, and that is that the death was not\nthe end, but that He rose again from the dead. My brother, you will\neither have to accept the Resurrection, with all that comes from it,\nor else you will have to join the ranks of the priests, and consider\nthat Christ's death blew to atoms Christ's pretensions. If we know\nanything about Him, we know that He asserted miraculous power,\nMessiahship, and a filial relation to God. These things are facts.\nDid He rise or did He not? If He did not, He was an enthusiast. If\nHe did, He is the King to whom our hearts can cleave, and to whom\nour loyalty is due.\n\nIII. Now, lastly, the Cross shows us the Son, beloved of the Father.\n\nThe priests thought that it was altogether incredible that His\ndevotion should have been genuine, or His claim to be the Son of God\nshould have any reality, since the Cross, to their vulgar eyes,\ndisproved them both. Like all coarse-minded people, they estimated\ncharacter by condition, but they who do that make no end of\nmistakes. They had forgotten their own Prophecies, which might have\ntold them that 'the Servant of the Lord in whom' His 'heart\ndelighted,' was a suffering Servant. But whilst they recognised the\nfacts, here again, as in the other two cases, they misconceived the\nrelation. We have the means of rectifying the distorted image.\n\nWe ought to know, and to be sure, that the Cross of Christ was the\nvery token that this was God's 'beloved Son in whom He was well\npleased.' If we dare venture on the comparison of parts of that\nwhich is all homogeneous and perfect, we might say that in the\nmoment of His death Jesus Christ was more than ever the object of\nthe Father's delight.\n\nWhy? It is not my purpose now to enlarge upon all the reasons which\nmight be suggested. Let me put them together in a sentence or two.\nIn that Cross Jesus Christ revealed God as God's heart had always\nyearned to be revealed, infinite in love, pitifulness, forbearance,\nand pardoning mercy. There was the highest manifestation of the\nglory of God. 'What?' you say, 'a poor weak Man, hanging on a cross,\nand dying in the dark--is _that_ the very shining apex of all\nthat humanity can know of divinity?' Yes, for it is the pure\nmanifestation that God is Love. Therefore the whole sunshine of the\nFather's presence rested on the dying Saviour. It was the hour when\nGod most delighted in Him, if I may venture the comparison, for the\nother reasons that then He carried filial obedience to its utmost\nperfection, that then His trust in God was deepest, even at the hour\nwhen His spirit was darkened by the cloud that the world's sin,\nwhich He was carrying, had spread thunderous between Him and the\nsunshine of the Father's face. For in that mysterious voice, which\nwe can never understand in its depths, there were blended trust and\ndesolation, each in its highest degree: 'My God! my God! Why hast\nThou forsaken Me?' And the Cross was the complete carrying out of\nGod's dearest purpose for the world, that He might be 'just, and the\njustifier of him that believeth in Jesus.' Therefore, then--I was\ngoing to say as never before--was Christ His Son, in whom He\ndelighted.\n\nBrethren, let us, led by the errors of these scoffers, grasp the\ntruths that they pervert. Let us see that weak Man hanging helpless\non the cross, whose 'cannot' is the impotence of omnipotence,\nimposed by His own loving will to save a world by the sacrifice of\nHimself. Let us crown Him our King, and let our deepest trust and\nour gladdest obedience be rendered to Him because He did not come\ndown from, but 'endured, the cross.' Let us behold with wonder, awe,\nand endless love the Father not withholding His only Son, but\n'delivering Him up to the death for us all,' and from the empty\ngrave and the occupied Throne let us learn how the Father by both\nproclaims to all the world concerning Him hanging dying on the\ncross: '_This_ is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE VEIL RENT\n\n\n    'Behold, the veil of the Temple was rent in twain from\n    the top to the bottom.'--MATT. xxvii. 51.\n\nAs I suppose we are all aware, the Jewish Temple was divided into\nthree parts: the Outer Court, open to all; the Holy Place, to which\nthe ministering priests had daily access to burn incense and trim\nthe lamps; and the Holy of Holies, where only the High Priest was\npermitted to go, and that but once a year, on the great Day of\nAtonement. For the other three hundred and sixty-four days the\nshrine lay silent, untrodden, dark. Between it and the less sacred\nHoly Place hung the veil, whose heavy folds only one man was\npermitted to lift or to pass. To all others it was death to peer\ninto the mysteries, and even to him, had he gone at another time,\nand without the blood of the sacrifice, death would have ensued.\n\nIf we remember all this and try to cast ourselves back in\nimagination to the mental attitude of the ordinary Jew, the incident\nof my text receives its true interpretation. At the moment when the\nloud cry of the dying Christ rung over the heads of the awestruck\nmultitude, that veil was, as it were, laid hold of by a pair of\ngiant hands and torn asunder, as the Evangelist says, 'from the top\nto the bottom.' The incident was a symbol. In one aspect it\nproclaimed the end of the long years of Israel's prerogative. In\nanother it ushered in an epoch of new relations between man and God.\nIf Jesus Christ was what He said He was, if His death was what He\ndeclared it to be, it was fitting that it should be attended by a\ntrain of subordinate and interpreting wonders. These were, besides\nthat of my text, the darkened sun, the trembling earth, the shivered\nrocks, the open graves, the rising saints--all of them, in their\nseveral ways, illuminating the significance of that death on\nCalvary.\n\nNot less significant is this symbol of my text, and I desire now to\ndraw your attention to its meanings.\n\nI. The rent veil proclaims the desecrated temple.\n\nThere is a striking old legend, preserved by the somewhat mendacious\nhistorian of the Jewish people, that, before Jerusalem fell, the\nanxious watchers heard from within the sanctuary a great voice\nsaying, 'Let us depart hence!' and through the night were conscious\nof the winnowing of the mighty wings of the withdrawing cherubim.\nAnd soon a Roman soldier tossed a brand into the most Holy Place,\nand the 'beautiful house where their fathers praised was burned with\nfire.' The legend is pathetic and significant. But that 'departing'\nhad taken place forty years before; and at the moment when Jesus\n'gave up the ghost,' purged eyes might have seen the long trail of\nbrightness as the winged servitors of the Most High withdrew from\nthe desecrated shrine. The veil rent declared that the sacred soil\nwithin it was now common as any foot of earth in Galilee; and its\nrending, so to speak, made way for a departing God.\n\nThat conception, that the death of Christ Jesus was the\n_de-consecration_--if I may coin a word--of the Temple, and the end\nof all its special sanctity, and that thenceforward the Presence had\ndeparted from it, is distinctly enough taught us by Himself in words\nwhich move in the same circle of ideas as that in which the symbol\nresides.... You remember, no doubt, that, if we accept the testimony\nof John's Gospel, at the very beginning of our Lord's ministry He\nvindicated His authority to cleanse the sanctuary against the cavils\nof the sticklers for propriety by the enigmatical words, 'Destroy\nthis Temple, and in three days I will build it up,' to which the\nEvangelist appends the comment, 'He spake of the Temple of His\nbody,' that body in which 'all the fulness of the Godhead' dwelt,\nand which was, and is to-day, all that the Temple shadowed and\nforetold, the dwelling-place of God in humanity, the place of\nsacrifice, the meeting-place between God and man. But just because\nour Lord in these dark words predicted His death and His\nresurrection, He also hinted the destruction of the literal stone\nand lime building, and its rearing again in nobler and more\nspiritual form. When He said, 'Destroy this Temple,' He implied,\nsecondarily, the destruction of the house in which He stood, and\nlaid that destruction, whensoever it should come to pass, at their\ndoors. And, inasmuch as the saying in its deepest depth meant His\ndeath by their violence and craft, therefore, in that early saying\nof His, was wrapped up the very same truth which was symbolised by\nthe rent veil, and was bitterly fulfilled at last. When they slew\nChrist they killed the system under which they lived, and for which\nthey would have been glad to die, in a zeal without knowledge; and\ndestroyed the very Temple on the distorted charge of being the\ndestroyer of which, they handed Him over to the Roman power.\n\nThe death of Christ is, then, the desecration and the destruction of\nthat Temple. Of course it is; because when a nation that had had\nmillenniums of education, of forbearance, of revelation, turned at\nlast upon the very climax and brightest central light of all the\nRevelation, standing there amongst them in a bodily form, there was\nnothing more to be done. God had shot His last arrow; His quiver was\nempty. 'Last of all He sent unto them His Son, saying,' with a\nwistful kind of half-confidence, 'They will reverence My Son,' and\nthe divine expectation was disappointed, and exhaustless Love was\nempty-handed, and all was over. He could turn to themselves and say,\n'Judge between Me and My vineyard. What more could have been done\nthat I have not done to it?' Therefore, there was nothing left but\nto let the angels of destruction loose, and to call for the Roman\neagles with their broad-spread wings, and their bloody beaks, and\ntheir strong talons, to gather together round the carcase. When He\ngave up the Ghost, 'the veil of the Temple was rent in twain from\nthe top to the bottom.'\n\nA time of repentance was given. It was possible for the most guilty\nparticipator in that judicial murder to have his gory hands washed\nand made white in the very blood that he had shed; but, failing\nrepentance, that death was the death of Israel, and the destruction\nof Israel's Temple. Let us take the lesson, dear brethren. If we\nturn away from that Saviour, and refuse the offered gifts of His\nlove, there is no other appeal left in the power of Heaven; and\nthere is nothing for it after that except judgment and destruction.\nWe can 'crucify the Son of God afresh and put Him to an open shame.'\nAnd the hearts that are insensitive, as are some of our hearts, to\nthat great love and grace, are capable of nothing except to be\npulverised by means of a judgment. Repentance is possible for us\nall, but, failing that, the continuance of rejection of Christ is\nthe pulling down, on our own heads, of the ruins of the Temple, like\nthe Israelitish hero in his blindness and despair.\n\nII. Now, secondly, the rent veil means, in another way of looking at\nthe incident, light streaming in on the mystery of God.\n\nLet me recall to your imaginations what lay behind that heavy veil.\nIn the Temple, in our Lord's time, there was no presence of the\nShekinah, the light that symbolised the divine presence. There was\nthe mercy-seat, with the outstretched wings of the cherubim; there\nwere the dimly pictured forms on the tapestry hangings; there was\nsilence deep as death; there was darkness absolute and utter, whilst\nthe Syrian sun was blazing down outside. Surely that is the symbol\nof the imperfect knowledge or illumination as to the divine nature\nwhich is over all the world. 'The veil is spread over all nations,\nand the covering over all people.' And surely that sudden, sharp\ntearing asunder of the obscuring medium, and letting the bright\nsunlight stream into every corner of the dark chamber, is for us a\nsymbol of the great fact that in the life, and especially in the\ndeath, of Jesus Christ our Lord, we have light thrown in to the\ndepths of God.\n\nWhat does that Cross tell us about God that the world did not know?\nAnd how does it tell us? and why does it tell us? It tells us of\nabsolute righteousness, of that in the divine nature which cannot\ntolerate sin; of the stern law of retribution which must be wrought\nout, and by which the wages of every sin is death. It tells us not\nonly of a divine righteousness which sees guilt and administers\npunishment, but it tells us of a divine love, perfect, infinite,\nutter, perennial, which shrinks from no sacrifice, which stoops to\nthe lowest conditions, which itself takes upon it all the miseries\nof humanity, and which dies because it loves and will save men from\ndeath. And as we look upon that dying Man hanging on the cross, the\nvery embodiment and consummation of weakness and of shame, we have\nto say, 'Lo! this is our God! We have waited for Him'--through all\nthe weary centuries--'and He will save us.' How does it tell us all\nthis? Not by eloquent and gracious thoughts, not by sweet and\nmusical words, but by a deed. The only way by which we can know men\nis by what they do. The only way by which we know God is by what He\ndoes. And so we point to that Cross and say, 'There! not in words,\nnot in thoughts, not in speculations, not in hopes and fears and\nperadventures and dim intuitions, but in a solid fact; there is the\nRevelation which lays bare the heart of God, and shows us its very\nthrobbing of love to every human soul.' 'The veil was rent in twain\nfrom the top to the bottom.'\n\nThe Cross will reveal God to you only if you believe that Jesus\nChrist was the Incarnate Word. Brethren, if that death was but the\ndeath of even the very holiest, noblest, sweetest, perfectest soul\nthat ever lived on earth and breathed human breath, there is no\nrevelation of God in it for us. It tells us what Jesus was, and by a\nvery roundabout inference may suggest something of what the divine\nnature is, but unless you can say, as the New Testament says, 'In\nthe beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word\nwas God.... And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, and we\nbeheld His glory, the glory as of the only Begotten of the Father,\nfull of grace and truth,' I fail to see how the death of Christ can\nbe a revelation of the love of God.\n\nI need not occupy time in dilating upon the contrast between this\nsolid certitude, and all that the world, apart from Jesus Christ,\nhas to lay hold of about God. We want something else than mist on\nwhich to build, and on which to lay hold. And there is a\nsubstantial, warm, flesh-and-blood hand, if I may so say, put out to\nus through the mist when we believe in Christ the Son of God, who\ndied on the cross for us all. Then, amidst whirling mists and\ntossing seas, there is a fixed point to which we can moor; then our\nconfidence is built, not on peradventures or speculations or wishes\nor dreams or hopes, but on a historical fact, and grasping that firm\nwe may stand unmoved.\n\nDear friends, I may be very old-fashioned and very narrow--I suppose\nI am; but I am bound to declare my conviction, which I think every\nday's experience of the tendency of thought only makes more certain,\nthat, practically for this generation, the choice lies between\naccepting the life and death of Jesus Christ as the historical\nRevelation of God, or having no knowledge of Him--_knowledge_,\nI say,--of Him at all; you must choose between the barred sanctuary,\nwithin which lies couched a hidden Something--with a capital S--or\nperhaps a hidden Someone whom you never can know and never will; or\nthe rent veil, rent by Christ's death, through which you can pass,\nand behold the mercy-seat and, above the outstretched wings of the\nadoring cherubim, the Father whose name is Love.\n\nIII. Lastly, the rent veil permits any and every man to draw near to\nGod.\n\nYou remember what I have already said as to the jealous guarding of\nthe privacy of that inner shrine, and how not only the common herd\nof the laity, but the whole of the priesthood, with the solitary\nexception of its titular head, were shut out from ever entering it.\nIn the old times of Israel there was only one man alive at once who\nhad ever been beyond the veil. And now that it is rent, what does\nthat show but this, that by the death of Jesus Christ any one, every\none, is welcome to pass in to the very innermost sanctuary, and to\ndwell, nestling as close as he will, to the very heart of the\nthroned God? There is a double veil, if I may so say, between man\nand God: the side turned outward is woven by our own sins; and the\nother turned inwards is made out of the necessary antagonism of the\ndivine nature to man's sin. There hangs the veil, and when the\nPsalmist asked, 'Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord; or who\nshall stand in His holy place?' he was putting a question which\nechoes despairingly in the very heart of all religions. And he\nanswered it as conscience ever answers it when it gets fair play:\n'He that hath clean hands and a pure heart, who hath not lifted up\nhis soul unto vanity.' And where or who is he? Nowhere; nobody.\nAccess is barred, because it is impossible that a holy and righteous\nGod should communicate the selectest gifts of His love, even the\nsense of His favour, and of harmony and fellowship with Him, to\nsinful men, and barred, because it is impossible that men, with the\nconsciousness of evil and the burden of guilt sometimes chafing\ntheir shoulders, and always bowing down their backs, should desire\nto possess, or be capable of possessing, that fellowship and union\nwith God. A black, frowning wall, if I may change the metaphor of my\ntext, rises between us and God. But One comes with the sacrificial\nvessel in His hand, and pours His blood on the barrier, and that\nmelts the black blocks that rise between us and God, and the path is\npatent and permeable for every foot. 'The veil of the Temple was\nrent in twain' when Christ died. That death, because it is a\nsacrifice, makes it possible that the whole fulness of the divine\nlove should be poured upon man. That death moves our hearts, takes\naway our sense of guilt, draws us nearer to Him; and so both by its\noperation--not on the love of God--but on the government of God, and\nby its operation on the consciousness of men, throws open the path\ninto His very presence.\n\nIf I might use abstract words, I would say that Christ's death\npotentially opens the path for every man, which being put into plain\nEnglish--which is better--is just that by the death of Christ every\nman can, if he will, go to God, and live beside Him. And our faith\nis our personal laying hold of that great sacrifice and treading on\nthat path. It turns the 'potentiality' into an actuality, the\npossibility into a fact. If we believe on Him who died on the cross\nfor us all, then by that way we come to God, than which there is\nnone other given under heaven among men.\n\nSo all believers are priests, or none of them are. The absolute\nright of direct access to God, without the intervention of any man\nwho has an officially greater nearness to Him than others, and\nthrough whom as through a channel the grace of sacrament comes, is\ncontained in the great symbol of my text. And it is a truth that\nthis day needs. On the one hand there is agnostic unbelief, which\nneeds to see in the rent veil the illumination streaming through it\non to the depths of God; and on the other hand there is the\ncomplementary error--and the two always breed each other--the\nsuperstition which drags back by an anachronism the old Jewish\nnotions of priesthood into the Christian Church. It needs to see in\nthe rent veil the charter of universal priesthood for all believers,\nand to hearken to the words which declare, 'Ye are a chosen\ngeneration, a spiritual house, a royal priesthood, that ye should\noffer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable unto God by Jesus Christ.'\nThat is the lesson that this day wants. 'Having, therefore,\nbrethren, boldness to enter into the holiest of all, by the blood of\nJesus, by a new and living way, which He has consecrated for us\nthrough the veil, that is His flesh, let us draw near with true\nhearts in full assurance of faith.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRINCE OF LIFE\n\n\n    'In the end of the Sabbath, as it began to dawn toward\n    the first day of the week, came Mary Magdalene and the\n    other Mary to see the sepulchre. 2. And, behold, there\n    was a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord\n    descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the\n    stone from the door, and sat upon it. 3. His countenance\n    was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow:\n    4. And for fear of him the keepers did shake, and became\n    as dead men. 5. And the angel answered and said unto the\n    women, Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which\n    was crucified. 6. He is not here: for He is risen, as He\n    said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay. 7. And go\n    quickly, and tell His disciples that He is risen from\n    the dead; and, behold, He goeth before you into Galilee;\n    there shall ye see Him: lo, I have told you. 8. And they\n    departed quickly from the sepulchre with fear and great\n    joy; and did run to bring His disciples word. 9. And as\n    they went to tell His disciples, behold, Jesus met them,\n    saying, All hail. And they came and held Him by the\n    feet, and worshipped Him. 10. Then said Jesus unto them,\n    Be not afraid: go tell My brethren that they go into\n    Galilee, and there shall they see Me. 11. Now, when\n    they were going, behold, some of the watch came into\n    the city, and shewed unto the chief priests all the\n    things that were done. 12. And when they were assembled\n    with the elders, and had taken counsel, they gave large\n    money unto the soldiers, 13. Saying, Say ye, His\n    disciples came by night, and stole Him away while we\n    slept. 14. And if this come to the governor's ears, we\n    will persuade him, and secure you. 15. So they took the\n    money, and did as they were taught: and this saying is\n    commonly reported among the Jews until this day.'\n    --MATT. xxviii. 1-15.\n\nThe attempts at harmonising the resurrection narratives are not only\nunsatisfactory, but they tend to blur the distinctive characteristics\nof each account. We shall therefore confine ourselves entirely to\nMatthew's version, and leave the others alone, with the simple\nremark that a condensed report of a series of events does not deny\nwhat it omits, nor contradict a fuller one. The peculiarities of\nMatthew's last chapter are largely due to the purpose of his gospel.\n Throughout, it has been the record of the Galilean ministry, the\npicture of the King of Israel, and of His treatment by those who\nshould have been His subjects. This chapter establishes the fact of\nHis resurrection; but, passing by the Jerusalem appearances of the\nrisen Lord, as being granted to individuals and having less bearing\non His royalty, emphasises two points: His rejection by the\nrepresentatives of the nation, whose lie is endorsed by popular\nacceptance; and the solemn assumption, in Galilee, so familiar to\nthe reader, of universal dominion, with the world-wide commission,\nin which the kingdom bursts the narrow national limits and becomes\nco-extensive with humanity. It is better to learn the meaning of\nMatthew's selection of his incidents than to wipe out instructive\npeculiarities in the vain attempt after harmony.\n\nFirst, notice his silence (in which all the four narratives are\nalike) as to the time and circumstances of the resurrection itself.\nThat had taken place before the grey twilight summoned the faithful\nwomen, and before the earthquake and the angel's descent. No eye saw\nHim rise. The guards were not asleep, for the statement that they\nwere is a lie put into their mouths by the rulers; but though they\nkept jealous watch, His rising was invisible to them. 'The prison\nwas shut with all safety,' for the stone was rolled away after He\nwas risen, 'and the keepers standing before the doors,' but there\nwas 'no man within.' As in the evening of that day He appeared in\nthe closed chamber, so He passed from the sealed grave. Divine\ndecorum required that that transcendent act should be done without\nmortal observers of the actual rising of the Sun which scatters for\never the darkness of death.\n\nMatthew next notices the angel ministrant and herald. His narrative\nleaves the impression that the earthquake and appearance of the\nangel immediately preceded the arrival of the women, and the\n'Behold!' suggests that they felt and saw both. But that is a piece\nof chronology on which there may be difference of opinion. The other\nnarratives tell of two angels. Matthew's mention of one only may be\ndue either to the fact that one was speaker, or to the subjective\nimpressions of his informant, who saw but the one, or to variation\nin the number visible at different times. We know too little of the\nlaws which determine their appearances to be warranted in finding\ncontradiction or difficulty here. The power of seeing may depend on\nthe condition of the beholder. It may depend, not as with gross\nmaterial bodies, on optics, but on the volition of the radiant\nbeings seen. They may pass from visibility to its opposite, lightly\nand repeatedly, flickering into and out of sight, as the Pleiades\nseem to do. Where there is such store of possibilities, he is rash\nwho talks glibly about contradictions.\n\nOf far more value is it to note the purpose served by this waiting\nangel. We heard much of a herald angel of the Lord in the story of\nthe Nativity. We hear nothing of him during the life of Christ. Now\nagain he appears, as the stars, quenched in the noontide, shine\nagain when the sun is out of the sky. He attends as humble servitor,\nin token that the highest beings gazed on that empty grave with\nreverent adoration, and were honoured by being allowed to guard the\nsacred place. Death was an undreaded thing to them, and no hopes for\nthemselves blossomed from Christ's grave; but He who had lain in it\nwas their King as well as ours, and new lessons of divine love were\ntaught them, as they wondered and watched. They come to minister by\nact and word to the weeping women's faith and joy. Their appearance\nparalyses the guards, who would have kept the Marys from the grave.\nThey roll away the great circular stone, which women's hands,\nhowever nerved by love, could not have moved in its grooves. They\nspeak tender words to them. There by the empty tomb, the strong\nheavenly and the weak earthly lovers of the risen King meet\ntogether, and clasp hands of help, the pledge and first-fruits of\nthe standing order henceforth, and the inauguration of their office\nof 'ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for ... heirs of\nsalvation.' The risen Christ hath made both one. The servants of the\nsame King must needs be friends of one another.\n\nThe angel's words fall into three parts. First, he calms fears by the\nassurance that the seekers for Christ are dear to Him. 'Fear not _ye_'\nglances at the prostrate watchers, and almost acknowledges the\nreasonableness of their abject terror. To them he could not but be\nhostile, but to hearts that longed for their and his Lord, he and all\nhis mighty fellows were brethren. Let us learn that all God's angels\nare our lovers and helpers, if we love and seek for Jesus. Superstition\nhas peopled the gulf between God and man with crowds of beings;\nrevelation assures us that it is full of creatures who excel in strength.\nMen have cowered before them, but 'whether they be thrones, or\ndominions, or principalities, or powers,' our King was their Creator,\nand is their Sovereign, and, if we serve Him, all these are on our\nside. The true deliverer from superstitious terrors is the risen Christ.\nAgain, the angel announces in simplest words the glorious fact, 'He\nis risen,' and helps them to receive it by a double way. He reminds\nthem of Christ's own words, which had seemed so mysterious and\nhad turned out so simple, so incredible, and now had proved so true.\nHe calls them with a smile of welcome to draw near, and with him to\nlook into the empty place. The invitation extends to us all, for the\none assurance of immortality; and the only answer to the despairing\nquestion, 'If a man die, shall he live again?' which is solid enough\nto resist the corrosion of modern doubt as of ancient ignorance, is\nthat empty grave, and the filled throne, which was its necessary\nconsequence. By it we measure the love that stooped so low, we\nschool our hearts to anticipate without dread or reluctance our own\nlying down there, we fasten our faith on the risen Forerunner, and\nrejoice in the triumphant assurance of a living Christ. If the\nwonder of the women's stunned gaze is no more ours, our calm\nacceptance of the familiar fact need be none the less glad, and our\nestimate of its far-reaching results more complete than their tumult\nof feeling permitted to them.\n\nNo wonder that, swiftly, new duty which was privilege followed on\nthe new, glad knowledge. It was emphatically 'a day of good\ntidings,' and they could not hold their peace. A brief glance,\nenough for certitude and joy, was permitted; and then, with urgent\nhaste, they are sent to be apostles to the Apostles. The possession\nof the news of a risen Saviour binds the possessors to be its\npreachers. Where it is received in any power, it will impel to\nutterance. He who can keep silence has never felt, as he ought, the\nworth of the word, nor realised the reason why he has seen the Cross\nor the empty grave. 'He goeth before you into Galilee; there shall\nye see.' It was but two complete days and one night since Christ had\nsaid to the disciples that He would rise again, and, as the Shepherd\nof the scattered flock, go before them into Galilee. How long ago\nsince that saying it would seem! The reasons for Matthew's omission\nof all the other appearances of our Lord in Jerusalem, with the\nexception of the one which immediately follows, and for the stress\nhe lays on this rendezvous in their native Galilee, have already\nbeen touched on, and need not detain us now.\n\nThe next point in the narrative is the glad interview with the risen\nJesus. The women had been at the grave but for a few moments. But\nthey lived more in these than in years of quiet. Time is very\nelastic, and five minutes or five seconds may change a life. These\nfew moments changed a world. Haste, winged by fear which had no\ntorment, and by joy which found relief in swift movement, sent them\nrunning, forgetful of conventional proprieties, towards the\nawakening city. Probably Mary Magdalene had left them, as soon as\nthey saw the open grave, and had hurried back alone to tell the\ntidings. And now the crowning joy and wonder comes. How simply it is\ntold!--the introductory 'Behold!' just hinting at the wonderfulness,\nand perhaps at the suddenness, of our Lord's appearance, and the\nrest being in the quietest and fewest words possible. Note the deep\nsignificance of the name 'Jesus' here. The angel spoke of 'the\nLord,' but all the rest of the chapter speaks of 'Jesus.' The joy\nand hope that flow from the Resurrection depend on the fact of His\nhumanity. He comes out of the grave, the same brother of our mortal\nflesh as before. It was no phantom whose feet they clasped, and He\nis not withdrawn from them by His mysterious experience. All through\nthe Resurrection histories and the narrative of the forty days, the\nsame emphasis attaches to the name, which culminates in the angel's\nassurance at the Ascension, that 'this same Jesus,' in His true\nhumanity, who has gone up on high our Forerunner, shall come again\nour Brother and our Judge. 'It is _Christ_ that died, yea\nrather, that is risen again'; but that triumphant assurance loses\nall its blessedness, unless we say too, '_Jesus_ died for our\nsins according to the Scriptures, and ... rose again the third day.'\n\nNote, too, the calmness of His greeting. He uses the common form of\nsalutation, as if He had but been absent on some common occasion,\nand met them in ordinary circumstances. He speaks out of His own\ndeep tranquillity, and desires to impart it to their agitated\nspirits. He would calm their joy, that it may be the deeper, like\nHis own. If we may give any weight to the original meaning of the\nformula of greeting which He employs, we may see blessed prophecy in\nit. The lips of the risen Christ bid us all 'rejoice.' His\nsalutation is no empty wish, but a command which makes its own\nfulfilment possible. If our hearts welcome Him, and our faith is\nfirm in His risen power and love, then He gives us a deep and\ncentral gladness, which nothing\n\n  'That is at enmity with joy\n   Can utterly abolish or destroy.'\n\nThe rush to His feet, and the silent clasp of adoration, are\neloquent of a tumult of feeling most natural, and yet not without\nturbid elements, which He does not wholly approve. We have not here\nthe prohibition of such a touch which was spoken to Mary, but we\nhave substantially the same substitution, by His command, of\npractical service for mere emotion. That carries a lesson always in\nseason. We cannot love Christ too much, nor try to get too near Him,\nto touch Him with the hand of our faith. But there have been modes\nof religious emotion, represented by hymns and popular books, which\nhave not mingled reverence rightly with love, and have spoken of\nHim, and of the emotions binding us to Him, in tones unwholesomely\nlike those belonging to earthly passion. But, apart from that, Jesus\ntaught these women, and us through them, that it is better to\nproclaim His Resurrection than to lie at His feet; and that, however\nsweet the blessedness which we find in Him may be, it is meant to\nput a message into our lips, which others need. Our sight of Him\ngives us something to say, and binds us to say it. It was a blessing\nto the women to have work to do, in doing which their strained\nemotions might subside. It was a blessing to the mournful company in\nthe upper room to have their hearts prepared for His coming by these\nheralds. It was a wonderful token of His unchanged love, and an\nanswer to fears and doubts of how they might find Him, that He sends\nthe message to them as brethren.\n\nIn the hurry of that Easter morning, they had no time to ponder on\nall that it had brought them. The Resurrection as the demonstration\nof Christ's divinity and of the acceptance of His perfect sacrifice,\nor as the pledge of their resurrection, or as the type of their\nChristian life, was for future experience to grasp. For that day, it\nwas enough to pass from despair to joy, and to let the astounding\nfact flood them with sunny hope.\n\nWe know the vast sweep of the consequences and consolations of it\nfar better than they did. There is no reason, in our distance from\nit, for its diminishing either in magnitude, in certitude, or in\nblessedness in our eyes. No fact in the history of the world stands\non such firm evidence as the resurrection of Jesus Christ. No age of\nthe world ever needed to believe it more than this one does. It\nbecomes us all to grasp it for ourselves with an iron tenacity of\nhold, and to echo, in the face of the materialisms and know-nothing\nphilosophy of this day, the old ringing confession, 'Now is Christ\nrisen from the dead!'\n\nWe need say little about the last point in this narrative--the\nobstinate blindness of the rulers, and their transparent lie to\naccount for the empty grave. The guard reports to the rulers, not to\nthe governor, as they had been handed over by Pilate for special\nservice. But they were Roman soldiers, as appears from the danger\nwhich the rulers provided against, that of their alleged crime\nagainst military discipline, in sleeping at their post, coming to\nhis ears. The trumped-up story is too puerile to have taken in any\none who did not wish to believe it. How could they tell what\nhappened when they were asleep? How could such an operation as\nforcing back a heavy stone, and exhuming a corpse, have been carried\non without waking them? How could such a timid set of people have\nmustered up courage for such a bold act? What did they do it for?\nNot to bury their Lord. He had been lovingly laid there by reverent\nhands, and costly spices strewn upon the sacred limbs. The only\npossible motive would be that the disciples might tell lies about\nHis resurrection. That hypothesis that the Resurrection was a\ndeliberately concocted falsehood has proved too strong for the\nstomach of modern unbelief, and has been long abandoned, as it had\nneed to be. When figs grow on thistles, such characters as the early\nChristians, martyrs, heroes, saints, will be produced by a system\nwhich has a lie, known to be one, for its foundation. But the lame\nstory is significant in two ways. It confesses, by its desperate\nattempt to turn the corner of the difficulty, that the great rock,\non which all denials of Christ's resurrection split, is the simple\nquestion--If He did not rise again, what became of the body? The\npriests' answer is absurd, but it, at all events, acknowledges that\nthe grave was empty, and that it is incumbent to produce an\nexplanation which reasonable men can accept without laughter.\n\nFurther, this last appearance of the rulers in the gospel is full of\ntragic significance, and is especially important to Matthew, whose\nnarrative deals especially with Jesus as the King and Messiah of\nIsrael. This is the end of centuries of prophecy and patience! This\nis what all God's culture of His vineyard has come to! The\nhusbandmen cast the Heir out of the vineyard, and slew him. But\nthere was a deeper depth than even that. They would not be persuaded\nwhen He rose again from the dead. They entrenched themselves in a\nlie, which only showed that they had a glimmering of the truth and\nhated it. And the lie was willingly swallowed by the mass of the\nnation, who thereby showed that they were of the same stuff as they\nwho made it. A conspiracy of falsehood, which knew itself to be\nsuch, was the last act of that august council of Israel. It is an\nawful lesson of the penalties of unfaithfulness to the light\npossessed, an awful instance of 'judicial blindness.' So sets the\nsun of Israel. And therefore Matthew's Gospel turns away from the\napostate nation, which has rejected its King, to tell, in its last\nwords, of His assumption of universal dominion, and of the passage\nof the glad news from Israel to the world.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RISEN LORD'S GREETINGS AND GIFTS\n\n\n    'And as they went to tell His disciples, behold, Jesus\n    met them, saying, All hail.'--MATT. xxviii. 9.\n\n    'Then the same day at evening ... came Jesus and stood\n    in the midst, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you.'\n    --JOHN xx. 19.\n\nSo did our Lord greet His sad followers. The first of these\nsalutations was addressed to the women as they hurried in the\nmorning from the empty tomb bewildered; the second to the disciples\nassembled in the upper room in the evening of the same day. Both are\nordinary greetings. The first is that usual in Greek, and literally\nmeans 'Rejoice'; the second is that common in Hebrew. The divergence\nbetween the two may be owing to the Evangelist Matthew having\nrendered the words which our Lord actually did speak, in the tongue\nfamiliar to His time, into their equivalent Greek. But whatever\naccount may be given of the divergence does not materially affect\nthe significance which I find in the salutations. And I desire to\nturn to them for a few moments now, because I think that, if we\nponder them, we may gain some precious lessons from these Easter\ngreetings of the Lord Himself.\n\nI. First, then, notice their strange and majestic simplicity.\n\nHe meets His followers after Calvary and the Tomb and the\nResurrection, with the same words with which two casual\nacquaintances, after some slight absence, might salute one another\nby the way. Their very simplicity is their sublimity here. For think\nof what tremendous experiences He had passed through since they saw\nHim last, and of what a rush of rapture and disturbance of joy shook\nthe minds of the disciples, and then estimate the calm and calming\npower of that matter-of-fact and simple greeting. It bears upon its\nvery front the mark of truth. Would anybody have imagined the scene\nso? There have been one or two great poets who might conceivably\nhave risen to the height of putting such words under such\ncircumstances into the mouths of creatures of their own imagination.\nAnalogous instances of the utmost simplicity of expression in\nmoments of intense feeling may be quoted from \u00c6schylus or\nShakespeare, and are regarded as the high-water marks of genius. But\ndoes any one suppose that these evangelists were exceptionally\ngifted souls of that sort, or that they could have imagined anything\nlike this--so strange in its calm, so unnatural at first sight, and\nyet vindicating itself as so profoundly natural and sublime--unless\nfor the simple reason that they had heard it themselves, or been\ntold it by credible witnesses? Neither the delicate pencil of the\ngreat dramatic genius nor the coarser brush of legend can have drawn\nsuch an incident as this, and it seems to me that the only\nreasonable explanation of it is that these greetings are what He\nreally did say.\n\nFor, as I have remarked, unnatural as it seems at first sight, if\nwe think for a moment, the very simplicity and calm, and, I was\ngoing to say, the _matter-of-factness_, of such a greeting, as\nthe first that escaped from lips that had passed through death and\nyet were red and vocal, is congruous with the deepest truths of\nHis nature. He has come from that tremendous conflict, and He\nreappears, not flushed with triumph, nor bearing any trace of effort,\nbut surrounded as by a nimbus with that strange tranquillity which\nevermore enwrapped Him. So small does the awful scene which He has\npassed through seem to this divine-human Man, and so utterly are\nthe old ties and bonds unaffected by it, that when He meets His\nfollowers, all He has to say to them as His first greeting is,\n'Peace be unto you!'--the well-worn salutation that was bandied to\nand fro in every market-place and scene where men were wont to meet.\nThus He indicates the divine tranquillity of His nature; thus He\nminimises the fact of death; thus He reduces it to its true\ninsignificance as a parenthesis across which may pass unaffected all\nsweet familiarities and loving friendships; thus He reknits the\nbroken ties, and, though the form of their intercourse is hereafter\nto be profoundly modified, the substance of it remains, whereof He\ngiveth assurance unto them in these His first words from the dead. So,\nas to a man standing on some mountain plateau, the deep gorges which\nseam it become invisible, and the unbroken level runs right on. So,\nthere are a marvellous proof of the majesty and tranquillity of the\ndivine Man, a glorious manifestation of His superiority over death;\na blessed assurance of the reknitting of all ancient ties, after it\nas before it, coming to us from pondering on the trivial words--trivial\nfrom other lips, but profoundly significant on His--wherewith He\ngreeted His servants when He rose again from the dead.\n\nII. Then note, secondly, the universal destination of the greetings\nof the risen Lord.\n\nI have said that it is possibly a mere accident that we should have\nthe two forms of salutation preserved for us here; and that it is\nquite conceivable that our Lord really spoke but one, which has been\npreserved unaltered from its Hebrew or Aramaic original in John, and\nrendered by its Greek equivalent by the Evangelist Matthew.\n\nBut be that as it may, I cannot help feeling that in this fact, that\nthe one salutation is the common greeting among Greek-speaking peoples,\nand the other the common greeting amongst Easterns, we may permissibly\nfind the thought of the universal aspect of the gifts and greetings of\nthe risen Christ. He comes to all men, and each man hears Him, 'in his\nown tongue wherein he was born,' breathing forth to him greetings\nwhich are promises, and promises which are gifts. Just as the mocking\ninscription on the Cross proclaimed, in 'Hebrew and Greek and Latin,'\nthe three tongues known to its readers, the one kingdom of the\ncrucified King--so in the greetings from the grave, the one declares\nthat, to all the desires of eager, ardent, sensuous, joy-loving\nWesterns, and all the aspirations of repose-loving Easterns, who had\nhad bitter experience of the pangs and pains of a state of warfare,\nJesus Christ is ready to respond and to bring answering gifts.\nWhatsoever any community or individual has conceived as its highest\nideal of blessedness and of good, that the risen Christ hath in His\nhands to bestow. He takes men's ideals of blessedness, and deepens\nand purifies and refines them.\n\nThe Greek notion of joy as being the good to be most wished for\nthose dear to us, is but a shallow one. They had to learn, and their\nphilosophy and their poetry and their art came to corruption because\nthey would not learn, that the corn of wheat must be cast into the\nground and die before it bring forth fruit. They knew little of the\nblessing and meaning of sorrow, and therefore the false glitter\npassed away, and the pursuit of the ideal became gross and foul and\nsensuous. And, on the other hand, the Jew, with his longing for\npeace, had an equally shallow and unworthy conception of what it\nmeant, and what was needed to produce it. If he had only external\nconcord with men, and a competency of outward good within his reach\nwithout too much trouble, he thought that because he 'had much goods\nlaid up for many years' he might 'take his ease; and eat, and drink,\nand be merry.' But Jesus Christ comes to satisfy both aspirations by\ncontradicting both, and to reveal to Greek and Jew how much deeper\nand diviner was his desire than he dreamed it to be; and, therefore,\nhow impossible it was to find the joy that would last, in the\ndancing fireflies of external satisfactions or the delights of art\nand beauty; and how impossible it was to find the repose that\nennobled and was wedded to action, in anything short of union with\nGod.\n\nThe Lord Christ comes out of the grave in which He lay for every\nman, and brings to each man's door, in a dialect intelligible to the\nman himself, the satisfaction of the single soul's aspirations and\nideals, as well as of the national desires. His gifts and greetings\nare of universal destination, meant for us all and adapted for us\neach.\n\nIII. Then, thirdly, notice the unfailing efficacy of the Lord's\ngreetings.\n\nLook at these people to whom He spoke. Remember what they were\nbetween the Friday and the Sunday morning; utterly cowed and beaten,\nthe women, in accordance with the feminine nature, apparently more\ndeeply touched by the personal loss of the Friend and Comforter; and\nthe men apparently, whilst sharing that sorrow, also touched by\ndespair at the going to water of all the hopes that they had been\nbuilding upon His official character and position. 'We trusted that\nit had been He which should have redeemed Israel,' they said, 'as\nthey walked and were sad.' They were on the point of parting. The\nKeystone withdrawn, the stones were ready to fall apart. Then came\n_something_--let us leave a blank for a moment--then  came\n_something_; and those who had been cowards, dissolved in\nsorrow and relaxed by despair, in eight-and-forty hours became\nheroes. From that time, when, by all reasonable logic and common\nsense applied to men's motives, the Crucifixion should have crushed\ntheir dreams and dissolved their society, a precisely opposite\neffect ensues, and not only did the Church continue, but the men\nchanged their characters, and became, somehow or other, full of\nthese very two things which Christ wished for them--namely, joy and\npeace.\n\nNow I want to know--what bridges that gulf? How do you get the Peter\nof the Acts of the Apostles out of the Peter of the Gospels? Is\nthere any way of explaining that revolution of character, whilst yet\nits broad outlines remain identical, which befell him and all of\nthem, except the old-fashioned one that the _something_ which\ncame in between was the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the\nconsequent gift of joy and peace in Him, a joy that no troubles or\npersecutions could shake, a peace that no conflicts could for a\nmoment disturb? It seems to me that every theory of Christianity\nwhich boggles at accepting the Resurrection of Jesus Christ as a\nplain fact, is shattered to pieces on the sharp-pointed rock of this\none demand--'Very well! If it is not a fact, account for the\nexistence of the Church, and for the change in the characters of its\nmembers.' You may wriggle as you like, but you will never get a\nreasonable theory of these two undeniable facts until you believe\nthat He rose from the dead. In His right hand He carried peace, and\nin His left joy. He gave these to them, and therefore 'out of\nweakness they were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to\nflight the armies of the aliens,' and when the time came, 'were\ntortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better\nresurrection.' There is omnipotent efficacy in Christ's greetings.\n\nThe one instance opens up the general law, that His wishes are\ngifts, that all His words are acts, that He speaks and it is done,\nand that when He desires for us joy, it is a deed of conveyance and\ngift, and invests us with the joy that He desires if we observe the\nconditions.\n\nChrist's wishes are omnipotent, ours are powerless. We wish for our\nfriends many good things, and the event turns wishes to mockery, and\nthe garlands which we prepared for their birthdays have sometimes to\nbe hung on their tombs. The limitations of human friendship and of\nour deepest and sincerest wishes, like a dark background, enhance\nthe boundless efficacy of the greetings of the Master, which are not\nonly wishes but bestowments of the thing wished, and therein given,\nby Him.\n\nIV. So, lastly, notice our share in this twofold greeting.\n\nWhen it was first heard, I suppose that the disciples and the women\napprehended the salutation only in its most outward form, and that\nall other thoughts were lost in the mere rapture of the sudden\nchange from the desolate sense of loss to the glad consciousness of\nrenewed possession. When the women clung to His feet on that Easter\nmorning, they had no thought of anything but--'we clasp Thee again,\nO Soul of our souls.' But then, as time went on, the meaning and\nblessedness and far-reaching issues of the Resurrection became more\nplain to them. And I think we can see traces of the process, in the\ndevelopment of Christian teaching as presented in the Acts of the\nApostles and in the Epistles. Peter in his early sermons dwells on\nthe Resurrection all but exclusively from one point of view--viz.,\nas being the great proof of Christ's Messiahship. Then there came by\ndegrees, as is represented in the same Peter's letter, and\nabundantly in the Apostle Paul's, the recognition of the light which\nthe Resurrection of Jesus Christ threw upon immortality; as a\nprophecy and a pattern thereof. Then, when the historical fact had\nbecome fully accepted and universally diffused, and its bearings\nupon men's future had been as fully apprehended as is possible here,\nthere came, finally, the thought that the Resurrection of Jesus\nChrist was the symbol of the new life, which from that risen Lord\npassed into all those who loved and trusted Him.\n\nNow, in all these three aspects--as proof of Messiahship, as the\npattern and prophecy of immortality, and as the symbol of the better\nlife which is accessible for us, here and now--the Resurrection of\nJesus Christ stands for us even more truly than for the rapturous\nwomen who caught His feet, or for the thankful men who looked upon\nHim in the upper chamber, as the source of peace and of joy.\n\nFor, dear brethren, therein is set forth for us the Christ whose\nwork is thereby declared to be finished and acceptable to God, and\nall sorrow of sin, all guilt, all disturbance of heart and mind by\nreason of evil passions and burning memories of former iniquity, and\nall disturbance of our concord with God, are at once and for ever\nswept away. If Jesus Christ was 'declared to be the Son of God with\npower by His Resurrection from the dead,' and if in that\nResurrection, as is most surely the case, the broad seal of the\ndivine acceptance is set to the charter of our forgiveness and\nsonship by the blood of the Cross, then joy and peace come to us\nfrom Him and from it.\n\nAgain, the resurrection of Jesus Christ sets Him forth before us as\nthe pattern and the prophecy of immortal life. This Samson has taken\nthe gates of the prison-house on His broad shoulders and carried\nthem away, and now no man is kept imprisoned evermore in that\ndarkness. The earthquake has opened the doors and loosened every\nman's bonds. Jesus Christ hath risen from the dead, and therein not\nonly demonstrated the certainty that life subsists through death,\nand that a bodily life is possible thereafter, but hath set before\nall those who give the keeping of their souls into His hands the\nglorious belief that 'the body of their humiliation shall be'\n'changed into the likeness of the body of His glory, according to\nthe working whereby He is able even to subdue all things unto\nHimself.' Therefore the sorrows of death, for ourselves and for our\ndear ones, the agitation which it causes, and all its darkness into\nwhich we shrink from passing, are swept away when He comes forth\nfrom the grave, serene, radiant, and victorious, to die no more, but\nto dispense amongst us His peace and His joy.\n\nAnd, again, the risen Christ is the source of a new life drawn from\nHim and received into the heart by faith in His sacrifice and\nResurrection and glory. And if I have, deep-seated in my soul,\nthough it may be in imperfect maturity, that life which is hid with\nChrist in God, an inward fountain of gladness, far better than the\neffervescent, and therefore soon flat, waters of Greek or earthly\njoy, is mine; and in my inmost being dwells a depth of calm peace\nwhich no outward disturbance can touch, any more than the winds that\nrave along the surface of the ocean affect its unmoved and unsounded\nabysses. Jesus Christ comes to thee, my brother, weary, distracted,\ncare-laden, sin-laden, sorrowful and fearful. And He says to each of\nus from the throne what He said in the upper room before the Cross,\nand on leaving the grave after it, 'My joy will remain in you, and\nyour joy shall be full. My peace I leave to you, My peace I give\nunto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you.'\n\n\n\n\nON THE MOUNTAIN\n\n\n    'Then the eleven disciples went away into Galilee, into\n    a mountain where Jesus had appointed them. 17. And when\n    they saw Him, they worshipped Him: but some doubted.'\n    --MATT. xxviii. 16, 17.\n\n    'After that, He was seen of above five hundred brethren\n    at once.'--1 COR. xv. 4\n\nTo infer an historian's ignorance from his silence is a short and\neasy, but a rash, method. Matthew has nothing to say of our Lord's\nappearances in Jerusalem, except in regard to that of the women in\nthe early morning of Easter Day. But it does not follow that he was\nignorant of these appearances. Imperfect knowledge may be the\nexplanation; but the scope and design of his Gospel is much more\nlikely to be so. It is emphatically the Gospel of the King of\nIsrael, and it moves, with the exception of the story of the\nPassion, wholly within the limits of the Galilean ministry. What\nmore probable than that the same motive which induced Jesus to\nselect the mountain which He had appointed as the scene of this\nmeeting should have induced the Evangelist to pass by all the other\nmanifestations in order to fix upon this one? It was fitting that in\nGalilee, where He had walked in lowly gentleness, 'kindly with His\nkind,' He should assume His sovereign authority. It was fitting that\nin 'Galilee of the Gentiles,' that outlying and despised province,\nhalf heathen in the eyes of the narrow-minded Pharisaic Jerusalem,\nHe should proclaim the widening of His kingdom from Israel to all\nnations.\n\nIf we had Matthew's words only, we should suppose that none but the\neleven were present on this occasion. But it is obviously the same\nincident to which Paul refers when he speaks of the appearance to\n'five hundred brethren at once.' These were the Galilean disciples\nwho had been faithful in the days of His lowliness, and were thus\nnow assembled to hear His proclamation of exaltation. Apparently the\nmeeting had been arranged beforehand. They came without Him to 'the\nmountain where Jesus had appointed.' Probably it was the same spot\non which the so-called Sermon on the Mount, the first proclamation\nof the King, had been delivered, and it was naturally chosen to be\nthe scene of a yet more exalted proclamation. A thousand tender\nmemories and associations clustered round the spot. So we have to\nthink of the five hundred gathered in eager expectancy; and we\nnotice how unlike the manner of His coming is to that of the former\nmanifestations. _Then_, suddenly, He became visibly present\nwhere a moment before He had been unseen. But _now_ He gradually\napproaches, for the doubting and the worshipping took place 'when\nthey saw Him,' and before 'He came to them.' I suppose we may\nconceive of Him as coming down the hill and drawing near to them,\nand then, when He stands above them, and yet close to them--else the\nfive hundred could not have seen Him 'at once'--doubts vanish; and\nthey listen with silent awe and love. The words are majestic; all is\nregal. There is no veiled personality now, as there had been to Mary,\nand to the two on the road to Emmaus. There is no greeting now, as\nthere had been in the upper chamber; no affording of a demonstration\nof the reality of His appearance, as there had been to Thomas and to\nthe others. He stands amongst them as the King, and the music of His\nwords, deep as the roll of thunder, and sweet as harpers harping with\ntheir harps, makes all comment or paraphrase sound thin and poor. But\nyet so many great and precious lessons are hived in the words that we\nmust reverently ponder them. The material is so abundant that I can\nbut touch it in the slightest possible fashion. This great utterance\nof our Lord's falls into three parts: a great claim, a great commission,\na great promise.\n\nI. There is a Great Claim.\n\n'All power is given unto Me in heaven and in earth.' No words can\nmore absolutely express unconditional, unlimited authority and\nsovereignty. Mark the variety of the gift--'all power'; every kind\nof force, every kind of dominion is in His hands. Mark the sphere of\nsovereignty--'in heaven and in earth.' Now, brethren, if we know\nanything about Jesus Christ, we know that He made this claim. There\nis no reason, except the unwillingness of some people to admit that\nclaim, for casting any sort of doubt upon these words, or making any\ndistinction in authority between them and the rest of the words of\ngraciousness which the whole world has taken to its heart. But if He\nsaid this, what becomes of His right to the veneration of mankind,\nas the Perfect Example of the self-sacrificing, self-oblivious\nreligious life? It is a mystery that I cannot solve, how any man can\nkeep his reverence for Jesus, and refuse to believe that beneath\nthese tremendous words there lies a solemn and solid reality.\n\nNotice, too, that there is implied a definite point of time at which\nthis all-embracing authority was given. You will find in the Revised\nVersion a small alteration in the reading, which makes a great\ndifference in the sense. It reads, 'All power _has been_ given';\nand that points, as I say, to a definite period. _When_ was it\ngiven? Let another portion of Scripture answer the question--'Declared\nto be the Son of God with power, by the resurrection from the dead.'\n_Then_ to the Man Jesus was given authority over heaven and earth.\nAll the early Christian documents concur in this view of the connection\nbetween the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and His investiture\nwith this sovereign power. Hearken to Paul, 'Became obedient unto\ndeath, even the death of the Cross; wherefore God also hath highly\nexalted Him, and given Him a name that is above every name.' Hearken\nto Peter, 'Who raised Him from the dead and gave Him glory.' Hearken\nto the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews, 'We see Jesus crowned\nwith glory and honour for the suffering of death.' Hearken to John,\n'To Him that is the Faithful Witness, and the First-born from the\ndead, and the Prince of the kings of the earth.' Look with his\neyes to the vision of the 'Lamb as it had been slain,' enthroned\nin the midst of the throne, and say whether this unanimous consent\nof the earliest Christian teachers is explicable on any reasonable\ngrounds, unless there had been underlying it just the words of our\ntext, and the Master Himself had taught them that all power was\ngiven to Him in heaven and in earth. As it seems to me impossible\nto account for the existence of the Church if we deny the\nResurrection, so it seems to me impossible to account for the faith\nof the earliest stratum of the Christian Church without the\nacceptance of some such declaration as this, as having come from the\nLord Himself. And so the hands that were pierced with the nails wield\nthe sceptre of the Universe, and on the brows that were wounded and\nbleeding with the crown of thorns are wreathed the many crowns of\nuniversal Kinghood.\n\nBut we have further to notice that in this investiture, with 'all\npower in heaven and on earth,' we have not merely the attestation of\nthe perfection of His obedience, the completeness of His work, and\nthe power of His sacrifice, but that we have also the elevation of\nManhood to enthronement with Divinity. For the _new_ thing that\ncame to Jesus after His resurrection was that His humanity was taken\ninto, and became participant of, 'the glory which I had with Thee,\nbefore the world was.' Then our nature, when perfect and sinless, is\nso cognate and kindred with the Divine that humanity is capable of\nbeing invested with, and bearing, that 'exceeding and eternal weight\nof glory.' In that elevation of the Man Christ Jesus, we may read a\nprophecy, that shall not be unfulfilled, of the destiny of all those\nwho conform to Him through faith, love, and obedience, finally to\nsit down with Him on His throne, even as He is set down with the\nFather on His throne.\n\nAh! brethren, Christianity has dark and low views of human nature,\nand men say they are too low and too dark. It is 'Nature's sternest\npainter,' and, therefore, 'its best.' But if on its palette the\nblacks are blacker than anywhere else, its range of colour is\ngreater, and its white is more lustrous. No system thinks so\ncondemnatorily of human nature as it is; none thinks so glowingly of\nhuman nature as it may become. There are bass notes far down beyond\nthe limits of the scale to which ears dulled by the world and sin\nand sorrow are sensitive; and there are clear, high tones, thrilling\nand shrilling far above the range of perception of such ears. The\nman that is in the lowest depths may rise with Jesus to the highest,\nbut it must be by the same road by which the Master went. 'If we\nsuffer with Him, we shall also reign with Him,' and only 'if.' There\nis no other path to the Throne but the Cross. _Via crucis, via\nlucis_--the way of the Cross is the way of light. It is to those\nwho have accepted their Gethsemanes and their Calvarys that He\nappoints a kingdom, as His Father has appointed unto Him.\n\nSo much, then, for the first point here in these words; turn now to\nthe second.\n\nII. The Great Commission.\n\nOne might have expected that the immediate inference to be drawn from\n'All power is given unto Me in heaven and in earth' would have been\nsome word of encouragement and strengthening to those who were so soon\nto be left, and who were beginning to be conscious of their feebleness.\nBut there is nothing more striking in the whole of the incidents of\nthose forty days than the prominence which is given in them to the\nwork of the Church when the Master had left it, and to the imperative\nobligations devolving upon it. And so here, not encouragement, but\nobligation is the inference that is drawn from that tremendous claim.\n'Because I have all power, therefore you are charged with the duty\nof winning the world for its King.' The all-ruling Christ calls for\nthe universal proclamation of His sovereignty by His disciples. These\nfive hundred little understood the sweep of the commandment, and, as\nhistory shows, terribly failed to apprehend the emancipating power\nof it. But He says to us, as to them, 'I am not content with the\nauthority given to Me by God, unless I have the authority that each\nman for himself can give Me, by willing surrender of his heart and\nwill to Me.' Jesus Christ craves no empty rule, no mere elevation\nby virtue of Divine supremacy, over men. He regards that elevation\nas incomplete without the voluntary surrender of men to become His\nsubjects and champions. Without its own consent He does not count\nthat His universal power is established in a human heart. Though\nthat dominion be all-embracing like the ocean, and stretching into\nall corners of the universe, and dominating over all ages, yet in\nthat ocean there may stand up black and dry rocks, barren as they\nare dry, and blasted as they are black, because, with the awful\npower of a human will, men have said, 'We will not have this Man\nto reign over us.' It is willing subjects whom Christ seeks, in\norder to make the Divine grant of authority a reality.\n\nIn that work He needs His servants. The gift of God notwithstanding,\nthe power of His Cross notwithstanding, the perfection and\ncompleteness of His great reconciling and redeeming work\nnotwithstanding, all these are vain unless we, His servants, will\ntake them in our hands as our weapons, and go forth on the warfare\nto which He has summoned us. This is the command laid upon us all,\n'Make disciples of all nations.' Only so will the reality correspond\nto the initial and all-embracing grant.\n\nIt would take us too far to deal at all adequately, or in anything\nbut the most superficial fashion, with the remaining parts of this\ngreat commission. 'Make disciples of all nations'--that is the first\nthing. Then comes the second step: 'Baptizing them into the name of\nthe Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.' Who are to be\nbaptized? Now, notice, if I may venture upon being slightly\ntechnical for a moment, that the word 'nations' in the preceding\nclause is a neuter one, and that the word for 'them' in this clause\nis a masculine, which seems to me fairly to imply that the command\n'baptizing them' does not refer to 'all nations,' but to the\ndisciples latent among them, and to be drawn from them. Surely,\nsurely the great claim of absolute and unbounded power has for its\nconsequence something better than the lame and impotent conclusion\nof appointing an indiscriminate rite, as the means of making\ndisciples! Surely that is not in accordance with the spirituality of\nthe Christian faith!\n\n'Baptizing them into the Name'--the name is one, that of the Father,\nand the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Does that mean the name of God,\nand of a man, and of an influence, all jumbled up together in\nblasphemous and irrational union? Surely, if Father, Son, and Holy\nSpirit have one name, the name of Divinity, then it is but a step to\nsay that three Persons are one God! But there is a great deal more\nhere than a baptismal formula, for to be baptized into the Name is\nbut the symbol of being plunged into communion with this one\nthreefold God of our salvation. The ideal state of the Christian\ndisciple is that he shall be as a vase dropped into the Atlantic,\nencompassed about with God, and filled with Him. We all 'live, and\nmove, and have our being' in Him, but some of us have so wrapped\nourselves, if I may venture to use such a figure, in waterproof\ncovering, that, though we are floating in an ocean of Divinity, not\na drop finds its way in. Cast the covering aside, and you will be\nsaturated with God, and only in the measure in which you live and\nmove and have your being in the Name are you disciples.\n\nThere is another step still. Making disciples and bringing into\ncommunion with the Godhead is not all that is to flow from, and\ncorrespond to, and realise in the individual, the absolute authority\nof Jesus Christ--'Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I\nhave commanded you.' We hear a great deal in these days about the\nworthlessness of mere dogmatic Christianity. Jesus Christ\nanticipated all that talk, and guarded it from exaggeration. For\nwhat He tells us here that we are to train ourselves and others in,\nis not creed but conduct; not things to be believed or _credenda_\nbut things to be done or _agenda_--'teaching them to observe all\nthings whatsoever I have commanded you.' A creed that is not wrought\nout in actions is empty; conduct that is not informed, penetrated,\nregulated by creed, is unworthy of a man, not to say of a Christian.\nWhat we are to know we are to know in order that we may do, and so\ninherit the benediction, which is never bestowed upon them that\nknow, but upon them that, knowing these things, are blessed _in_,\nas well as _for_, the doing of them.\n\nThat training is to be continuous, educating to new views of duty;\nnew applications of old truths, new sensitiveness of conscience,\nunveiling to us, ever as we climb, new heights to which we aspire.\nThe Christian Church has not yet learnt--thank God it is learning,\nthough by slow degrees--all the moral and practical implications and\napplications of 'the truth as it is in Jesus.' And so these are the\nthree things by which the Church recognises and corresponds to the\nuniversal dominion of Christ, the making disciples universally; the\nbringing them into the communion of the Father, the Son, and the\nHoly Spirit; and the training of them to conduct ever approximating\nmore and more to the Divine ideal of humanity in the glorified\nChrist.\n\nAnd now I must gather just into a sentence or two what is to be said\nabout the last point. There is--\n\nIII. The Great Promise.\n\n'I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world,' or, as it\nmight be read, 'with you all the days, even to the accomplishment of\nthe age.' Note that emphatic 'I am,' which does not only denote\ncertainty, but is the speech of Him who is lifted above the lower\nregions where Time rolls and the succession of events occurs. That\n'I am' covers all the varieties of _was, is, will be_. Notice\nthe long vista of variously tinted days which opens here. Howsoever\nmany they be, howsoever different their complexion, days of summer\nand days of winter, days of sunshine and days of storm, days of\nbuoyant youth and days of stagnant, stereotyped old age, days of\napparent failure and days of apparent prosperity, He is with us in\nthem all. They change, He is 'the same yesterday, and to-day, and\nfor ever.' Notice the illimitable extent of the promise--'even unto\nthe end.' We are always tempted to think that long ago the earth was\nmore full of God than it is to-day, and that away forward in the\nfuture it will again be fuller, but that this moment is comparatively\nempty. The heavens touch the earth on the horizon in front and behind,\nand they are highest and remotest above us just where we stand. But\nno past day had more of Christ in it than to-day has, and that He\nhas gone away is the condition of His coming. 'He therefore departed\nfor a season, that we might receive Him for ever.'\n\nBut mark that the promise comes after a command, and is contingent,\nfor all its blessedness and power, upon our obedience to the\nprescribed duty. That duty is primarily to make disciples of all\nnations, and the discharge of it is so closely connected with the\nrealisation of the promise that a non-missionary Church never has\nmuch of Christ's presence. But obedience to all the King's commands\nis required if we stand before Him, and are to enjoy His smile. If\nyou wish to keep Christ very near you, and to feel Him with you, the\nway to do so is no mere cultivation of religious emotion, or\nsaturating your mind with religious books and thoughts, though these\nhave their place; but on the dusty road of life doing His will and\nkeeping His commandments. 'If a man love Me he will keep My words,\nand My Father will love Him. We will come to Him, and make our abode\nwith Him.'","title":"Expositions of Holy Scripture : St. Matthew Chaps. IX to XXVIII","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":245225}