{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_8200/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_8200","id":"gutenberg_8200","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8200","summary":null,"tags":["Bible. Luke -- 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\nST. LUKE\n\nALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVOLUME I: ST. LUKE _Chaps. I to XII_\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nELIJAH COME AGAIN (Luke i. 5-17)\n\nTRUE GREATNESS (Luke i. 15)\n\nTHE MAGNIFICAT (Luke i. 46-55)\n\nZACHARIAS'S HYMN (Luke i. 67-80)\n\nTHE DAYSPRING FROM ON HIGH (Luke i. 78,79)\n\nSHEPHERDS AND ANGELS (Luke ii. 8-20)\n\nWAS, IS, IS TO COME (Luke ii. 16; Luke xxiv. 51; Acts i. 11)\n\nSIMEON'S SWAN-SONG (Luke ii. 29,30)\n\nTHE BOY IN THE TEMPLE (Luke ii. 49)\n\nJOHN THE PREACHER OF REPENTANCE (Luke iii. 1-14)\n\nJOHN'S WITNESS TO JESUS, AND GOD'S (Luke iii. 15-22)\n\nTHE TEMPTATION (Luke iv. 1-13)\n\nPREACHING AT NAZARETH (Luke iv. 21)\n\nA SABBATH IN CAPERNAUM (Luke iv. 33-44)\n\nINSTRUCTIONS FOB FISHERMEN (Luke v. 4)\n\nFEAR AND FAITH (Luke v. 8; John xxi. 7)\n\nBLASPHEMER, OR--WHO? (Luke v. 17-26)\n\nLAWS OP THE KINGDOM (Luke vi. 20-31)\n\nTHREE CONDENSED PARABLES (Luke vi. 41-49)\n\nWORTHY--NOT WORTHY (Luke vii. 4, 6, 7)\n\nJESUS AT THE BIER (Luke vii. 13-15)\n\nJOHN'S DOUBTS AND CHRIST'S PRAISE (Luke vii. 18-28)\n\nGREATNESS IN THE KINGDOM (Luke vii. 28)\n\nTHWARTING GOD'S PURPOSE (Luke vii. 30)\n\nA GLUTTONOUS MAN AND A WINEBIBBER (Luke vii. 34)\n\nTHE TWO DEBTORS (Luke vii. 41-43)\n\nLOVE AND FORGIVENESS (Luke vii. 47)\n\nGO INTO PEACE (Luke vii. 50)\n\nTHE MINISTRY OP WOMEN (Luke viii 2,3)\n\nONE SEED AND DIVERSE SOILS (Luke viii. 4-15)\n\nSEED AMONG THORNS (Luke viii. 14)\n\nA MIRACLE WITHIN A MIRACLE (Luke viii. 43-48)\n\nCHRIST TO JAIRUS (Luke viii. 50)\n\nBREAD FROM HEAVEN (Luke ix. 10-17)\n\n'THE LORD THAT HEALETH THEE' (Luke ix. 11)\n\nCHRIST'S CROSS AND OURS (Luke ix. 18-27)\n\nPRAYER AND TRANSFIGURATION (Luke ix. 29)\n\n'IN THE HOLY MOUNT' (Luke ix. 30, 31)\n\nCHRIST HASTENING TO THE CROSS (Luke ix. 51)\n\nCHRIST'S MESSENGERS: THEIR EQUIPMENT AND WORK (Luke x. 1-11; 17-20)\n\nNEIGHBOURS FAR OFF (Luke x. 25-37)\n\nHOW TO PRAY (Luke xi. 1-13)\n\nTHE PRAYING CHRIST (Luke xi. 1)\n\nTHE RICH FOOL (Luke xii. 13-23)\n\nANXIOUS ABOUT EARTH, OR EARNEST ABOUT THE KINGDOM (Luke xii. 22-31)\n\nSTILLNESS IN STORM (Luke xii. 29)\n\nTHE EQUIPMENT OF THE SERVANTS (Luke xii. 35-36)\n\nTHE SERVANT-LORD (Luke xii. 37)\n\nSERVANTS AND STEWARDS HERE AND HEREAFTER (Luke xii. 37, 43, 44)\n\nFIRE ON EARTH (Luke xii. 49)\n\n\n\n\nELIJAH COME AGAIN\n\n\n    'There was, in the days of Herod the king of Judea, a\n    certain priest named Zacharias, of the course of Abia:\n    and his wife was of the daughters of Aaron, and her\n    name was Elisabeth. 6. And they were both righteous\n    before God, walking in all the commandments and\n    ordinances of the Lord blameless. 7. And they had no\n    child, because that Elisabeth was barren; and they\n    both were now well stricken in years. 8. And it came\n    to pass, that, while he executed the priest's office\n    before God in the order of his course, 9. According to\n    the custom of the priest's office, his lot was to burn\n    incense when he went into the temple of the Lord.\n    10. And the whole multitude of the people were praying\n    without at the time of incense. 11. And there appeared\n    unto him an angel of the Lord standing on the right\n    side of the altar of incense. 12. And when Zacharias\n    saw him, he was troubled, and fear fell upon him.\n    13. But the angel said unto him, Fear not, Zacharias:\n    for thy prayer is heard; and thy wife Elisabeth shall\n    bear thee a son, and thou shalt call his name John.\n    14. And thou shalt have joy and gladness; and many\n    shall rejoice at his birth. 15. For he shall be great\n    in the sight of the Lord, and shall drink neither wine\n    nor strong drink; and he shall be filled with the Holy\n    Ghost, even from his mother's womb. 16. And many of\n    the children of Israel shall he turn to the Lord their\n    God. 17. And he shall go before Him in the spirit and\n    power of Elias, to turn the hearts of the fathers to\n    the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the\n    just; to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.'\n    --LUKE i. 5-17.\n\nThe difference between the style of Luke's preface (vs. 1-4) and the\nsubsequent chapters relating to the Nativity suggests that these are\ndrawn from some Hebrew source. They are saturated with Old Testament\nphraseology and constructions, and are evidently translated by Luke.\nIt is impossible to say whence they came, but no one is more likely\nto have been their original narrator than Mary herself. Elisabeth or\nZacharias must have communicated the facts in this chapter, for\nthere is no indication that those contained in this passage, at all\nevents, were known to any but these two.\n\nIf we were considering a fictitious story, we should note the\nartistic skill which prepared for the appearance of the hero by the\nintroduction first of his satellite; but the order of the narrative\nis due, not to artistic skill, but to the divinely ordered sequence\nof events. It was fitting that John's office as Forerunner should\nbegin even before his birth. So the story of his entrance into the\nworld prepares for that of the birth which hallows all births.\n\nI. We have first a beautiful outline picture of the quiet home in\nthe hill country. The husband and wife were both of priestly\ndescent, and in their modest lives, away among the hills, were\nlovely types of Old Testament godliness. That they are pronounced\n'blameless' militates against no doctrine of universal sinfulness.\nIt is not to be taken as dogma at all, but as the expression of\nGod's merciful estimate of His servants' characters. These two\nsimple saints lived, as all married believers should do, yoked\ntogether in the sweet exercise of godliness, and helping each other\nto all high and noble things. Hideous corruption of wedlock reigned\nround them. Such profanations of it as were shown later by Herod and\nHerodias, Agrippa and Bernice, were but too common; but in that\nquiet nook these two dwelt 'as heirs together of the grace of life,'\nand their prayers were not hindered.\n\nThe most of the priests who appear in the Gospels are heartless\nformalists, if not worse; yet not only Annas and Caiaphas and their\nspiritual kindred ministered at the altar, but there were some in\nwhose hearts the ancient fire burned. In times of religious\ndeclension, the few who still are true are mostly in obscure\ncorners, and live quiet lives, like springs of fresh water rising in\nthe midst of a salt ocean. John thus sprang from parents in whom the\nold system had done all that it could do. In his origin, as in\nhimself, he represented the consummate flower of Judaism, and\ndischarged its highest office in pointing to the coming One.\n\nThis 'blameless' pair had a crook in their lot. Childlessness was\nthen an especial sorrow, and many a prayer had gone up from both\nthat their solitary home might be gladdened by children's patter and\nprattle. But their disappointed hope had not made them sour, nor\nturned their hearts from God. If they prayed about it, they would\nnot murmur at it, and they were not thereby hindered from 'walking\nin all God's commandments and ordinances blameless.' Let us learn\nthat unfulfilled wishes are not to clog our devotion, nor to silence\nour prayers, nor to slacken our running the race set before us.\n\nII. We are carried away from the home among the hills to the crowded\nTemple courts. The devout priest has come up to the city, leaving\nhis aged wife in solitude, for his turn of service has arrived.\nDetails of the arrangements of the sacerdotal 'courses' need not\ndetain us. We need only note that the office of burning incense was\nregarded as an honour, was determined by lot, and took place at the\nmorning and evening sacrifice. So Zacharias, with his censer in his\nhand, went to the altar which stood in front of the veil, flanked on\nthe right hand by the table of shewbread, and on the left by the\ngreat lamp-stand. The place, his occupation, the murmur of many\npraying voices without, would all tend to raise his thoughts to God;\nand the curling incense, as it ascended, would truly symbolise the\ngoing up of his heart in aspiration, desire, and trust. Such a man\ncould not do his work heartlessly or formally.\n\nMark the manner of the angel's appearance. He was not seen as in the\nact of coming, but was suddenly made visible standing by the altar,\nas if he had been stationed there before; and what had happened was\nnot that he came, but that Zacharias's eyes were opened. So, when\nElisha's servant was terrified at the sight of the besiegers, the\nprophet prayed that his eyes might be opened, and when they were, he\nsaw what had been there before, 'the mountain full of horses and\nchariots of fire.' Not the Temple courts only, but all places are\nfull of divine messengers, and we should see them if our vision was\npurged. But such considerations are not to weaken the supernatural\nelement in the appearance of this angel with his message. He was\nsent, whatever that may mean in regard to beings whose relation to\nplace must be different from ours. He had an utterance of God's will\nto impart.\n\nIt has often been objected to these chapters that they are full of\nangelic appearances, which modern thought deems suspicious. But\nsurely if the birth of Jesus was what we hold it to have been, the\ncoming into human life of the Incarnate Son of God, it is not legend\nthat angel wings gleam in their whiteness all through the story, and\nangel voices adore the Lord of men as well as angels, and angel eyes\ngaze on His cradle, and learn new lessons there.\n\nIII. We have next the angel's message. The devoutest heart is\nconscious of shrinking dread when brought face to face with\ncelestial brightness that has overflowed into our darkness. So 'Fear\nnot' is the first word on the messenger's lips, and one can fancy\nthe accent of sweetness and the calm of heart which followed. It has\noften been thought that Zacharias had been praying for offspring\nwhile he was burning incense; but the narrative does not say so, and\nbesides the fact that he had ceased to hope for children (as is\nshown by his incredulity), surely it casts a slur on his religious\ncharacter to suppose that personal wishes were uppermost at so\nsacred a moment. Prayers that he had long ago put aside as finally\nrefused, now started to life again. God delays often, but He does\nnot forget. Blessings may come to-day as the result of old prayers\nwhich have almost passed from our memory and our hope.\n\nObserve how brief is the announcement of the child's birth,\nimportant as that was to the father's heart, and how the prophecy\nlingers on the child's future work, which is important for the\nworld. His name, character, and work in general are first spoken,\nand then his specific office as the Forerunner is delineated at the\nclose. The name is significant. 'John' means 'The Lord is gracious.'\nIt was an omen, a condensed prophecy, the fulfilment of which\nstretched beyond its bearer to Him as whose precursor alone was John\na token of God's grace.\n\nHis character (ver. 15) puts first 'great in the sight of the Lord.'\nThen there are some whom God recognises as great, small as we all\nare before Him. And His estimate of greatness is not the world's\nestimate. How Herod or Pilate or Caesar, or philosophers at Athens,\nor rabbis in Jerusalem would have scoffed if they had been pointed\nto the gaunt ascetic pouring out words which they would have thought\nwild, to a crowd of Jews, and been told that that was the greatest\nman in the world (except One)! The elements of greatness in the\nestimate of God which is truth, are devotion to His service, burning\nconvictions, intense moral earnestness, superiority to sensuous\ndelights, clear recognition of Jesus, and humble self-abnegation\nbefore Him. These are not the elements recognised in the world's\nPantheon. Let us take God's standard.\n\nJohn was to be a Nazarite, living not for the senses, but the soul,\nas all God's great ones have to be. The form may vary, but the\nsubstance of the vow of abstinence remains for all Christians. To\nput the heel on the animal within, and keep it well chained up, is\nindispensable, if we are ever to know the buoyant inspiration which\ncomes from a sacreder source than the fumes of the wine-cup. Like\nJohn, we must flee the one if we would have the other, and be\n'filled with the Holy Ghost.'\n\nThe consequence of his character is seen in his work, as described\ngenerally in verse 16. Only such a man can effect such a change, in\na time of religious decay, as to turn many to God. It needs a strong\narm to check the downward movement and to reverse it. No one who is\nhimself entangled in sense, and but partially filled with God's\nSpirit, will wield great influence for good. It takes a Hercules to\nstop the chariot racing down hill, and God's Herculeses are all made\non one pattern, in so far that they scorn delights, and empty\nthemselves of self and sense that they may be filled with the\nSpirit.\n\nJohn's specific office is described in verse 17, with allusion to\nthe closing prophecy of Malachi. That prophecy had kindled an\nexpectation that Elijah, in person, would precede Messias. John was\nlike a reincarnation of the stern prophet. He came in a similar\nepoch. His characteristic, like Elijah's, was 'power,' not\ngentleness. If the earlier prophet had to beard Ahab and Jezebel,\nthe second Elijah had Herod and Herodias. Both haunted the desert,\nboth pealed out thunders of rebuke. Both shook the nation, and\nstirred conscience. No two figures in Scripture are truer brethren\nin spirit than Elijah the Tishbite and John the Baptist.\n\nHis great work is to go before the Messiah, and to prepare Israel\nfor its King. Observe that the name of the coming One is not\nmentioned in verse 17. 'Him' is enough. Zacharias knew who 'He' was.\nBut observe, too, that the same mysterious person is distinctly\ncalled 'The Lord,' which in this connection, and having regard to\nthe original prophecy in Malachi, can only be the divine name. So,\nin some fashion not yet made plain, Messiah's advent was to be the\nLord's coming to His people, and John was the Forerunner, in some\nsense, of Jehovah Himself.\n\nBut the way in which Israel was to be prepared is further specified\nin the middle clauses of the verse, which are also based on\nMalachi's words. The interpretation of 'to turn the hearts of the\nfathers to the children' is very doubtful; but the best explanation\nseems to be that the phrase means to bring back to the descendants\nof the ancient fathers of the nation the ancestral faith and\nobedience. They are to be truly Abraham's seed, because they do the\nworks and cherish the faith of Abraham. The words imply the same\ntruth which John afterwards launched as a keen-edged dart, 'Think\nnot to say, We have Abraham to our father.' Descent after the flesh\nshould lead to kindred in spirit. If it does not, it is nought.\n\nTo turn 'the disobedient to the wisdom of the just' is practically\nthe same change, only regarded from another point of view. John was\nsent to effect repentance, that change of mind and heart by which\nthe disobedient to the commands of God should be brought to possess\nand exercise the moral and religious discernment which dwells only\nin the spirits of the righteous. Disobedience is folly. True wisdom\ncannot be divorced from rectitude. Real rectitude cannot live apart\nfrom obedience to God.\n\nSuch was God's intention in sending John. How sadly the real effects\nof his mission contrast with its design! So completely can men\nthwart God, as Jesus said in reference to John's mission, 'The\nPharisees and lawyers frustrated the counsel of God against\nthemselves, being not baptized of him.' Let us take heed lest we\nbring to nothing, so far as we are concerned, His gracious purpose\nof redemption in Christ!\n\n\n\n\nTRUE GREATNESS\n\n\n    He shall be great in the sight of the Lord.'--LUKE i. 15.\n\nSo spake the angel who foretold the birth of John the Baptist. 'In\nthe sight of the Lord'--then men are not on a dead level in His\neyes. Though He is so high and we are so low, the country beneath\nHim that He looks down upon is not flattened to Him, as it is to us\nfrom an elevation, but there are greater and smaller men in His\nsight, too. No epithet is more misused and misapplied than that of\n'a great man.' It is flung about indiscriminately as ribbons and\norders are by some petty State. Every little man that makes a noise\nfor a while gets it hung round his neck. Think what a set they are\nthat are gathered in the world's Valhalla, and honoured as the\nworld's great men! The mass of people are so much on a level, and\nthat level is so low, that an inch above the average looks gigantic.\nBut the tallest blade of grass gets mown down by the scythe, and\nwithers as quickly as the rest of its green companions, and goes its\nway into the oven as surely. There is the world's false estimate of\ngreatness and there is God's estimate. If we want to know what the\nelements of true greatness are, we may well turn to the life of this\nman, of whom the prophecy went before him that he should be 'great\nin the sight of the Lord.' That is gold that will stand the test.\n\nWe may remember, too, that Jesus Christ, looking back on the career\nto which the angel was looking forward, endorsed the prophecy and\ndeclared that it had become a fact, and that 'of them that were born\nof women there had not arisen a greater than John the Baptist.' With\nthe illumination of His eulogium we may turn to this life, then, and\ngather some lessons for our own guidance.\n\nI. First, we note in John unwavering and immovable firmness and\ncourage.\n\n'What went ye out into the wilderness for to see? A reed shaken with\nthe wind?' Nay! an iron pillar that stood firm whatsoever winds blew\nagainst it. This, as I take it, is in some true sense the basis of\nall moral greatness--that a man should have a grip which cannot be\nloosened, like that of the cuttle-fish with all its tentacles round\nits prey, upon the truths that dominate his being and make him a\nhero. 'If you want me to weep,' said the old artist-poet, 'there must\nbe tears in your own eyes.' If you want me to believe, you yourself\nmust be aflame with conviction which has penetrated to the very\nmarrow of your bones. And so, as I take it, the first requisite\neither for power with others, or for greatness in a man's own\ndevelopment of character, is that there shall be this unwavering\nfirmness of grasp of clearly-apprehended truths, and unflinching\nboldness of devotion to them.\n\nI need not remind you how magnificently, all through the life of our\ntypical example, this quality was stamped upon every utterance and\nevery act. It reached its climax, no doubt, in his bearding Herod\nand Herodias. But moral characteristics do not reach a climax unless\nthere has been much underground building to bear the lofty pinnacle;\nand no man, when great occasions come to him, develops a courage and\nan unwavering confidence which are strange to his habitual life.\nThere must be the underground building; and there must have been\nmany a fighting down of fears, many a curbing of tremors, many a\nrebuke of hesitations and doubts in the gaunt, desert-loving\nprophet, before he was man enough to stand before Herod and say, 'It\nis not lawful for thee to have her.'\n\nNo doubt there is much to be laid to the account of temperament, but\nwhatever their temperament may be, the way to this unwavering\ncourage and firm, clear ring of indubitable certainty, is open to\nevery Christian man and woman; and it is our own fault, our own sin,\nand our own weakness, if we do not possess these qualities.\nTemperament! what on earth is the good of our religion if it is not\nto modify and govern our temperament? Has a man a right to jib on\none side, and give up the attempt to clear the fence, because he\nfeels that in his own natural disposition there is little power to\ntake the leap? Surely not. Jesus Christ came here for the very\npurpose of making our weakness strong, and if we have a firm hold\nupon Him, then, in the measure in which His love has permeated our\nwhole nature, will be our unwavering courage, and out of weakness we\nshall be made strong.\n\nOf course the highest type of this undaunted boldness and unwavering\nfirmness of conviction is not in John and his like. He presented\nstrength in a lower form than did the Master from whom his strength\ncame. The willow has a beauty as well as the oak. Firmness is not\nobstinacy; courage is not rudeness. It is possible to have the iron\nhand in the velvet glove, not of etiquette-observing politeness, but\nof a true considerateness and gentleness. They who are likest Him\nthat was 'meek and lowly in heart,' are surest to possess the\nunflinching resolve which set His face like a flint, and enabled Him\nto go unhesitatingly and unrecalcitrant to the Cross itself.\n\nDo not let us forget, either, that John's unwavering firmness\nwavered; that over the clear heaven of his convictions there did\nsteal a cloud; that he from whom no violence could wrench his faith\nfelt it slipping out of his grasp when his muscles were relaxed in\nthe dungeon; and that he sent 'from the prison'--which was the\nexcuse for the message--to ask the question, 'After all, art Thou He\nthat should come?'\n\nNor let us forget that it was that very moment of tremulousness\nwhich Jesus Christ seized, in order to pour an unstinted flood of\npraise for the firmness of his convictions, on the wavering head of\nthe Forerunner. So, if we feel that though the needle of our compass\npoints true to the pole, yet when the compass-frame is shaken, the\nneedle sometimes vibrates away from its true direction, do not let\nus be cast down, but believe that a merciful allowance is made for\nhuman weakness. This man was great; first, because he had such\ndauntless courage and firmness that, over his headless corpse in the\ndungeon at Machaerus, might have been spoken what the Regent Moray\nsaid over John Knox's coffin, 'Here lies one that never feared the\nface of man.'\n\nII. Another element of true greatness that comes nobly out in the\nlife with which I am dealing is its clear elevation above worldly\ngood.\n\nThat was the second point that our Lord's eulogium signalised. 'What\nwent ye out into the wilderness for to see? A man clothed in soft\nraiment?' But you would have gone to a palace, if you had wanted to\nsee that, not to the reed-beds of Jordan. As we all know, in his\nlife, in his dress, in his food, in the aims that he set before him,\nhe rose high above all regard for the debasing and perishable\nsweetnesses that appeal to flesh, and are ended in time. He lived\nconspicuously for the Unseen. His asceticism belonged to his age,\nand was not the highest type of the virtue which it expressed. As I\nhave said about his courage, so I say about his self-denial--Christ's\nis of a higher sort. As the might of gentleness is greater than the\nmight of such strength as John's, so the asceticism of John is lower\nthan the self-government of the Man that came eating and drinking.\n\nBut whilst that is true, I seek, dear brethren, to urge this old\nthreadbare lesson, always needed, never needed more than amidst the\nsenselessly luxurious habits of this generation, needed in few\nplaces more than in a great commercial centre like that in which we\nlive, that one indispensable element of true greatness and elevation\nof character is that, not the prophet and the preacher alone, but\nevery one of us, should live high above these temptations of gross\nand perishable joys, should\n\n  'Scorn delights and live laborious days.'\n\nNo man has a right to be called 'great' if his aims are small. And\nthe question is, not as modern idolatry of intellect, or, still\nworse, modern idolatry of success, often makes it out to be, Has he\ngreat capacities? or has he won great prizes? but has he greatly\nused himself and his life? If your aims are small you will never be\ngreat; and if your highest aims are but to get a good slice of this\nworld's pudding--no matter what powers God may have given you to\nuse--you are essentially a small man.\n\nI remember a vigorous and contemptuous illustration of St. Bernard's,\nwho likens a man that lives for these perishable delights which John\nspurned, to a spider spinning a web out of his own substance, and\ncatching in it nothing but a wretched prey of poor little flies.\nSuch a one has surely no right to be called a great man. Our aims\nrather than our capacity determine our character, and they who\ngreatly aspire after the greatest things within the reach of men,\nwhich are faith, hope, charity, and who, for the sake of effecting\nthese aspirations, put their heels upon the head of the serpent and\nsuppress the animal in their nature, these are the men 'great in the\nsight of the Lord.'\n\nIII. Another element of true greatness, taught us by our type, is\nfiery enthusiasm for righteousness.\n\nYou may think that that has little to do with greatness. I believe\nit has everything to do with it, and that the difference between men\nis very largely to be found here, whether they flame up into the\nwhite heat of enthusiasm for the things that are right, or whether\nthe only things that can kindle them into anything like earnestness\nand emotion are the poor, shabby things of personal advantage. I\nneed not remind you how, all through John's career, there burned,\nunflickering and undying, that steadfast light; how he brought to\nthe service of the plainest teaching of morality a fervour of\npassion and of zeal almost unexampled and magnificent. I need not\nremind you how Jesus Christ Himself laid His hand upon this\ncharacteristic, when He said of him that 'he was a light kindled and\nshining.' But I would lay upon all our hearts the plain, practical\nlesson that, if we keep in that tepid region of lukewarmness which\nis the utmost approach to tropical heat that moral and religious\nquestions are capable of raising in many of us, good-bye to all\nchance of being 'great in the sight of the Lord.' We hear a great\ndeal about the 'blessings of moderation,' the 'dangers of\nfanaticism,' and the like. I venture to think that the last thing\nwhich the moral consciousness of England wants today is a\nrefrigerator, and that what it needs a great deal more than that is,\nthat all Christian people should be brought face to face with this\nplain truth--that their religion has, as an indispensable part of\nit, 'a Spirit of burning,' and that if they have not been baptized\nin fire, there is little reason to believe that they have been\nbaptized with the Holy Ghost.\n\nI long that you and myself may be aflame for goodness, may be\nenthusiastic over plain morality, and may show that we are so by our\ndaily life, by our rebuking the opposite, if need be, even if it\ntake us into Herod's chamber, and make Herodias our enemy for life.\n\nIV. Lastly, observe the final element of greatness in this man-absolute\nhumility of self-abnegation before Jesus Christ.\n\nThere is nothing that I know in biography anywhere more beautiful,\nmore striking, than the contrast between the two halves of the\ncharacter and demeanour of the Baptist; how, on the one side, he\nfronts all men undaunted and recognises no superior, and how neither\nthreats nor flatteries nor anything else will tempt him to step one\ninch beyond the limitations of which he is aware, nor to abate one\ninch of the claims which he urges; and on the other hand how, like\nsome tall cedar touched by the lightning's hand, he falls prone\nbefore Jesus Christ and says, 'He must increase, and I must\ndecrease': 'A man can receive nothing except it be given him of\nGod.' He is all boldness on one side; all submission and dependence\non the other.\n\nYou remember how, in the face of many temptations, that attitude was\nmaintained. The very message which he had to carry was full of\ntemptations to a self-seeking man to assert himself. You remember\nthe almost rough 'No!' with which, reiteratedly, he met the\nsuggestions of the deputation from Jerusalem that sought to induce\nhim to say that he was more than he knew himself to be, and how he\nstuck by that infinitely humble and beautiful saying, 'I am a\nvoice'--that is all. You remember how the whole nation was in a kind\nof conspiracy to tempt him to assert himself, and was ready to break\ninto a flame if he had dropped a spark, for all men were musing in\ntheir heart whether he was the Christ or not,' and all the lawless\nand restless elements would have been only too glad to gather round\nhim, if he had declared himself the Messiah. Remember how his own\ndisciples came to him, and tried to play upon his jealousy and to\ninduce him to assert himself: 'Master, He whom thou didst baptize'--and\nso didst give Him the first credentials that sent men on His\ncourse--'has outstripped thee, and all men are coming to Him.' And\nyou remember the lovely answer that opened such depths of unexpected\ntenderness in the rough nature: 'He that hath the bride is the\nbridegroom; the friend of the bridegroom heareth the voice; and that\nis enough to fill my cup with joy to the very brim.' And what\nconceptions of Jesus Christ had John, that he thus bowed his lofty\ncrest before Him, and softened his heart into submission almost\nabject? He knew Him to be the coming Judge, with the fan in His\nhand, who could baptize with fire, and he knew Him to be 'the Lamb\nof God which taketh away the sin of the world.' Therefore he fell\nbefore Him.\n\nBrethren, we shall not be 'great in the sight of the Lord' unless we\ncopy that example of utter self-abnegation before Jesus Christ.\nThomas a Kempis says somewhere, 'He is truly great who is small in\nhis own sight, and thinks nothing of the giddy heights of worldly\nhonour.' You and I know far more of Jesus Christ than John the\nBaptist did. Do we bow ourselves before Him as he did? The Source\nfrom which he drew his greatness is open to us all. Let us begin\nwith the recognition of the Lamb of God that takes away the world's\nsin, and with it ours. Let the thought of what He is, and what He\nhas done for us, bow us in unfeigned submission. Let it shatter all\ndreams of our own importance or our own desert. The vision of the\nLamb of God, and it only, will crush in our hearts the serpent's\neggs of self-esteem and self-regard.\n\nThen, let our closeness to Jesus Christ, and our experience of His\npower, kindle in us the fiery enthusiasm with which He baptizes all\nHis true servants, and let it because we know the sweetnesses that\nexcel, take from us all liability to be tempted away by the vulgar\nand coarse delights of earth and of sense. Let us keep ourselves\nclear of the babble that is round about us, and be strong because we\ngrasp Christ's hand.\n\nI have been speaking about no characteristic which may not be\nattained by any man, woman, or child amongst us. 'The least in the\nkingdom of heaven' may be greater than John. It is a poor ambition\nto seek to be _called_ 'great.' It is a noble desire to _be_ 'great\nin the sight of the Lord.' And if we will keep ourselves close to\nJesus Christ that will be attained. It will matter very little what\nmen think of us, if at last we have praise from the lips of Him who\npoured such praise on His servant. We may, if we will. And then it will\nnot hurt us though our names on earth be dark and our memories perish\nfrom among men.\n\n  'Of so much fame in heaven expect the meed.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAGNIFICAT\n\n    'And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord, 47. And\n    my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. 48. For He\n    hath regarded the low estate of His hand-maiden: for,\n    behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me\n    blessed. 49. For He that is mighty hath done to me\n    great things; and holy is His name, 50. And His mercy\n    is on them that fear Him from generation to generation.\n    51. He hath shewed strength with His arm: He hath\n    scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.\n    52. He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and\n    exalted them of low degree. 53. He hath filled the\n    hungry with good things; and the rich He hath sent\n    empty away. 54. He hath holpen His servant Israel, in\n    remembrance of His mercy; 55. As He spake to our\n    fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed for ever.'\n    --LUKE i. 46-55.\n\nBirds sing at dawn and sunrise. It was fitting that the last strains\nof Old Testament psalmody should prelude the birth of Jesus. To\ndisbelievers in the Incarnation the hymns of Mary and Zacharias are,\nof course, forgeries; but if it be true nothing can be more\n'natural' than these. The very features in this song, which are\nappealed to as proof of its being the work of some unknown pious\nliar or dishonest enthusiast, really confirm its genuineness.\nCritics shake their heads over its many quotations and allusions to\nHannah's song and to other poetical parts of the Old Testament, and\ndeclare that these are fatal to its being accepted as Mary's. Why?\nmust the simple village maiden be a poetess because she is the\nmother of our Lord? What is more likely than that she should cast\nher emotions into forms so familiar to her, and especially that\nHannah's hymn should colour hers? These old psalms provided the\nmould into which her glowing emotions almost instinctively would\nrun, and the very absence of 'originality' in the song favours its\ngenuineness.\n\nAnother point may be noticed as having a similar bearing; namely,\nthe very general and almost vague outline of the consequences of the\nbirth, which is regarded as being the consummation to Israel of the\nmercy promised to the fathers. Could such a hymn have been written\nwhen sad experience showed how the nation would reject their\nMessiah, and ruin themselves thereby? Surely the anticipations which\nglow in it bear witness to the time when they were cherished, as\nprior to the sad tragedy which history unfolded. Little does Mary as\nyet know that 'a sword shall pierce through' her 'own soul also,'\nand that not only will 'all generations' call her 'blessed,' but\nthat one of her names will be 'Our Lady of Sorrows.' For her and for\nus, the future is mercifully veiled. Only one eye saw the shadow of\nthe Cross stretching black and grim athwart the earliest days of\nJesus, and that eye was His own. How wonderful the calmness with\nwhich He pressed towards that 'mark' during all His earthly life!\n\nThe hymn is sometimes divided into four strophes or sections: first,\nthe expression of devout emotion (vs. 46-48a); second, the great\nfact from which they arise (vs. 48b-50); third, the consequences of\nthe fact (vs. 51-53); fourth, its aspect to Israel as fulfilment of\npromise. This division is, no doubt, in accordance with the course\nof thought, but is perhaps somewhat too artificial for our purposes;\nand we may rather simply note that in the earlier part the personal\nelement is present, and that in the later it fades entirely, and the\nmighty deeds of God alone fill the meek singer's eye and lips. We\nmay consider the lessons of these two halves.\n\nI. The more personal part extends to the end of verse 50. It\ncontains three turnings or strophes, the first two of which have two\nclauses each, and the third three. The first is verses 46 and 47,\nthe purely personal expression of the glad emotions awakened by\nElisabeth's presence and salutation, which came to Mary as\nconfirmation of the angel's annunciation. Not when Gabriel spoke,\nbut when a woman like herself called her 'mother of my Lord,' did\nshe break into praise. There is a deep truth there. God's voice is\nmade more sure to our weakness when it is echoed by human lips, and\nour inmost hopes attain substance when they are shared and spoken by\nanother. We need not attribute to the maiden from Nazareth\nphilosophical accuracy when she speaks of her 'soul' and 'spirit.'\nHer first words are a burst of rapturous and wondering praise, in\nwhich the full heart runs over. Silence is impossible, and speech a\nrelief. They are not to be construed with the microscopic accuracy\nfit to be applied to a treatise on psychology. 'All that is within'\nher praises and is glad. She does not think so much of the\nstupendous fact as of her own meekly exultant heart, and of God, to\nwhom its outgoings turn. There are moods in which the devout soul\ndwells on its own calm blessedness and on God, its source, more\ndirectly than on the gift which brings it. Note the twofold\nact--magnifying and rejoicing. We magnify God when we take into our\nvision some fragment more of the complete circle of His essential\ngreatness, or when, by our means, our fellows are helped to do so.\nThe intended effect of all His dealings is that we should think more\nnobly--that is, more worthily--of Him. The fuller knowledge of His\nfriendly greatness leads to joy in Him which makes the spirit bound\nas in a dance--for such is the meaning of the word 'rejoice'--and\nwhich yet is calm and deep. Note the double name of God--Lord and\nSaviour. Mary bows in lowly obedience, and looks up in as lowly,\nconscious need of deliverance, and beholding in God both His majesty\nand His grace, magnifies and exults at once.\n\nVerse 48 is the second turn of thought, containing, like the former,\ntwo clauses. In it she gazes on her great gift, which, with maiden\nreserve, she does not throughout the whole hymn once directly name.\nHere the personal element comes out more strongly. But it is\nbeautiful to note that the 'lowliness' is in the foreground, and\nprecedes the assurance of the benedictions of all generations. The\nwhole is like a murmur of wonder that such honour should come to\nher, so insignificant, and the 'behold' of the latter half verse is\nan exclamation of surprise. In unshaken meekness of steadfast\nobedience, she feels herself 'the handmaid of the Lord.' In\nundisturbed humility, she thinks of her 'low estate,' and wonders\nthat God's eye should have fallen on her, the village damsel, poor\nand hidden. A pure heart is humbled by honour, and is not so dazzled\nby the vision of future fame as to lose sight of God as the source\nof all. Think of that simple young girl in her obscurity having\nflashed before her the certainty that her name would be repeated\nwith blessing till the world's end, and then thus meekly laying her\nhonours down at God's feet. What a lesson of how to receive all\ndistinctions and exaltations!\n\nVerses 49 and 50 end this part, and contain three clauses, in which\nthe personal disappears, and only the thought of God's character as\nmanifested in His wonderful act remains. It connects indeed with the\npreceding by the 'to me' of verse 49; but the main subject is the\nnew revelation, which is not confined to Mary, of the threefold\ndivine glory fused into one bright beam, in the Incarnation. Power,\nholiness, eternal mercy, are all there, and that in deeper and more\nwondrous fashion than Mary knew when she sang. The words are mostly\nquotations from the Old Testament, but with new application and\nmeaning. But even Mary's anticipations fell far short of the reality\nof that power in weakness, that holiness mildly blended with\ntenderest pity and pardoning love; that mercy which for all\ngenerations was to stretch not only to 'them that fear Him,' but to\nrebels, whom it would make friends. She saw but dimly and in part.\nWe see more plainly all the rays of divine perfection meeting in,\nand streaming out to, the whole world, from her Son 'the effulgence\nof the Father's glory.'\n\nII. The second part of the song is a lyric anticipation of the\nhistorical consequences of the appearance of the Messiah, cast into\nforms ready to the singer's hand, in the strains of Old Testament\nprophecy. The characteristics of Hebrew poetry, its parallelism, its\nantitheses, its exultant swing, are more conspicuous here than in\nthe earlier half. The main thought of verses 51 to 53 is that the\nMessiah would bring about a revolution, in which the high would be\ncast down and the humble exalted. This idea is wrought out in a\nthreefold antithesis, of which the first pair must have one member\nsupplied from the previous verse. Those who 'fear Him' are opposed\nto 'the proud in the imagination of their hearts.' These are thought\nof as an army of antagonists to God and His anointed, and thus the\nword 'scattered' acquires great poetic force, and reminds us of many\na psalm, such as the Second and One hundred and tenth, where Messiah\nis a warrior.\n\nThe next pair represent the antithesis as being that of social\ndegree, and in it there may be traced a glance at 'Herod the King'\nand the depressed line of David, to which the singer belonged, while\nthe meaning must not be confined to that. The third pair represent\nthe same opposites under the guise of poverty and riches. Mary is\nnot to be credited with purely spiritual views in these contrasts,\nnor to be discredited with purely material ones. She, no doubt,\nthought of her own oppressed nation as mainly meant by the hungry\nand lowly; but like all pious souls in Israel, she must have felt\nthat the lowliness and hunger which Messiah was to ennoble and\nsatisfy, meant a condition of spirit conscious of weakness and sin,\nand eagerly desiring a higher good and food than earth could give.\nSo much she had learned from many a psalm and prophet. So much the\nSpirit which inspired psalmist and prophet spoke in her lowly and\nexultant heart now. But the future was only revealed to her in this\nwide, general outline. Details of manner and time were all still\nblank. The broad truth which she foretold remains one of the salient\nhistorical results of Christ's coming, and is the universal\ncondition of partaking of His gifts. He has been, and is, the most\nrevolutionary force in history; for without Him society is\nconstituted on principles the reverse of the true, and as the world,\napart from Jesus, is down-side up, the mission of His gospel is to\nturn it upside-down, and so bring the right side uppermost. The\ncondition of receiving anything from Him is the humble recognition\nof emptiness and need. If princes on their thrones will come to Him\njust in the same way as the beggar on the dunghill does, they will\nvery probably be allowed to stay on them; and if the rich man will\ncome to Him as poor and in need of all things, he will not be 'sent\nempty away.' But Christ is a discriminating Christ, and as the\nprophet said long before Mary, 'I ... will bind up that which was\nbroken, and will strengthen that which was sick; and the fat and the\nstrong I will destroy. I will feed them with judgment.'\n\nThe last turn in the song celebrates the faithfulness of God to His\nancient promises, and His help by His Messiah to Israel. The\ndesignation of Israel as 'His servant' recalls the familiar name in\nIsaiah's later prophecies. Mary sees in the great wonder of her\nSon's birth the accomplishment of the hopes of ages, and an\nassurance of God's mercy as for ever the portion of the people. We\ncannot tell how far she had learned that Israel was to be counted,\nnot by descent but disposition. But, in any case, her eyes could not\nhave embraced the solemn facts of her Son's rejection by His and her\npeople. No shadows are yet cast across the morning of which her song\nis the herald. She knew not the dark clouds of thunder and\ndestruction that were to sweep over the sky. But the end has not yet\ncome, and we have to believe still that the evening will fulfil the\npromise of the morning, and 'all Israel shall be saved,' and that\nthe mercy which was promised from of old to Abraham and the fathers,\nshall be fulfilled at last and abide with their seed for ever.\n\n\n\n\nZACHARIAS'S HYMN\n\n\n    'And his father Zacharias was filled with the Holy\n    Ghost, and prophesied, saying, 68. Blessed be the Lord\n    God of Israel; for He hath visited and redeemed His\n    people, 69. And hath raised up an horn of salvation\n    for us in the house of His servant David; 70. As He\n    spake by the mouth of His holy prophets, which have\n    been since the world began; 71. That we should be\n    saved from our enemies, and from the hand of all that\n    hate us; 72. To perform the mercy promised to our\n    fathers, and to remember His holy covenant, 73. The\n    oath which He sware to our father Abraham, 74. That He\n    would grant unto us, that we, being delivered out of\n    the hand of our enemies, might serve Him without fear,\n    75. In holiness and righteousness before Him, all the\n    days of our life. 76. And thou, child, shalt be called\n    the Prophet of the Highest: for thou shalt go before\n    the face of the Lord to prepare His ways; 77. To give\n    knowledge of salvation unto His people, by the\n    remission of their sins, 78. Through the tender mercy\n    of our God; whereby the day-spring from on high hath\n    visited us, 79. To give light to them that sit in\n    darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet\n    into the way of peace. 80. And the child grew, and\n    waxed strong in spirit, and was in the deserts till the\n    day of his shewing unto Israel.'--LUKE i. 67-80.\n\nZacharias was dumb when he disbelieved. His lips were opened when he\nbelieved. He is the last of the Old Testament prophets, [Footnote:\nIn the strictest sense, John the Baptist was a prophet of the Old\ndispensation, even though he came to usher in the New. (See Matt.\nxi. 9-11.) In the same sense, Zacharias was the last prophet of the\nOld dispensation, before the coming of his son to link the Old with\nthe New.] and as standing nearest to the Messiah, his song takes up\nthe echoes of all the past, and melts them into a new outpouring of\nexultant hope. The strain is more impassioned than Mary's, and\nthrobs with triumph over 'our enemies,' but rises above the mere\npatriotic glow into a more spiritual region. The complete\nsubordination of the personal element is very remarkable, as shown\nby the slight and almost parenthetical reference to John. The father\nis forgotten in the devout Israelite. We may take the song as\ndivided into three portions: the first (vs. 68-75) celebrating the\ncoming of Messiah, with special reference to its effect in freeing\nIsrael from its foes; the second (vs. 76, 77), the highly dramatic\naddress to his unconscious 'child'; the third (vs. 78, 79) returns\nto the absorbing thought of the Messiah, but now touches on higher\naspects of His coming as the Light to all who sit in darkness.\n\nI. If we remember that four hundred dreary years, for the most part\nof which Israel had been groaning under a foreign yoke, had passed\nsince the last of the prophets, and that during all that time devout\neyes had looked wearily for the promised Messiah, we shall be able\nto form some faint conception of the surprise and rapture which\nfilled Zacharias's spirit, and leaps in his hymn at the thought that\nnow, at last, the hour had struck, and that the child would soon be\nborn who was to fulfil the divine promises and satisfy fainting\nhopes. No wonder that its first words are a burst of blessing of\n'the God of Israel.' The best expression of joy, when long-cherished\ndesires are at last on the eve of accomplishment, is thanks to God.\nHow short the time of waiting seems when it is past, and how\nneedless the impatience which marred the waiting! Zacharias speaks\nof the fact as already realised. He must have known that the\nIncarnation was accomplished; for we can scarcely suppose that the\nemphatic tenses 'hath visited, hath redeemed, hath raised' are\nprophetic, and merely imply the certainty of a future event. He must\nhave known, too, Mary's royal descent; for he speaks of 'the house\nof David.'\n\n'A horn' of salvation is an emblem taken from animals, and implies\nstrength. Here it recalls several prophecies, and as a designation\nof the Messiah, shadows forth His conquering might, all to be used\nfor deliverance to His people. The vision before Zacharias is that\nof a victor king of Davidic race, long foretold by prophets, who\nwill set Israel free from its foreign oppressors, whether Roman or\nIdumean, and in whom God Himself 'visits and redeems His people.'\nThere are two kinds of divine visitations--one for mercy and one for\njudgment. What an unconscious witness it is of men's evil\nconsciences that the use of the phrase has almost exclusively\nsettled down upon the latter meaning! In verses 71-75, the idea of\nthe Messianic salvation is expanded and raised. The word 'salvation'\nis best construed, as in the Revised Version, as in apposition with\nand explanatory of 'horn of salvation.' This salvation has issues,\nwhich may also be regarded as God's purposes in sending it. These\nare threefold: first, to show mercy to the dead fathers of the race.\nThat is a striking idea, and pictures the departed as, in their\nsolemn rest, sharing in the joy of Messiah's coming, and perhaps in\nthe blessings which He brings. We may not too closely press the\nphrase, but it is more than poetry or imagination. The next issue is\nGod's remembrance of His promises, or in other words, His fulfilment\nof these. The last is that the nation, being set free, should serve\nGod. The external deliverance was in the eyes of devout men like\nZacharias precious as a means to an end. Political freedom was\nneedful for God's service, and was valuable mainly as leading to\nthat.  The hymn rises far above the mere impatience of a foreign\nyoke. 'Freedom to worship God,' and God worshipped by a ransomed\nnation, are Zacharias's ideal of the Messianic times.\n\nNote his use of the word for priestly 'service.' He, a priest, has\nnot forgotten that by original constitution all Israel was a nation\nof priests; and he looks forward to the fulfilment at last of the\nideal which so soon became impracticable, and possibly to the\nabrogation of his own order in the universal priesthood. He knew not\nwhat deep truths he sang. The end of Christ's coming, and of the\ndeliverance which He works for us from the hand of our enemies,\ncannot be better stated than in these words. We are redeemed that we\nmay be priests unto God. Our priestly service must be rendered in\n'holiness and righteousness,' in consecration to God and discharge\nof all obligations; and it is to be no interrupted or occasional\nservice, like Zacharias's, which occupied but two short weeks in the\nyear, and might never again lead him within the sanctuary, but is to\nfill with reverent activity and thankful sacrifice all our days.\nHowever this hymn may have begun with the mere external conception\nof Messianic deliverance, it rises high above that here, and will\nstill further soar beyond it. We may learn from this priest-prophet,\nwho anticipated the wise men and brought his offerings to the unborn\nChrist, what Christian salvation is, and for what it is given us.\n\nII. There is something very vivid and striking in the abrupt address\nto the infant, who lay, all unknowing, in his mother's arms. The\ncontrast between him as he was then and the work which waited him,\nthe paternal wonder and joy which yet can scarcely pause on the\nchild, and hurries on to fancy him in the years to come, going\nherald-like before the face of the Lord, the profound prophetic\ninsight into John's work, are all noteworthy. The Baptist did\n'prepare the way' by teaching that the true 'salvation' was not to\nbe found in mere deliverance from the Roman yoke, but in 'remission\nof sin.' He thus not only gave 'knowledge of salvation,' in the\nsense that he announced the fact that it would be given, but also in\nthe sense that he clearly taught in what it consisted. John was no\npreacher of revolt, as the turbulent and impure patriots of the day\nwould have liked him to be, but of repentance. His work was to awake\nthe consciousness of sin, and so to kindle desires for a salvation\nwhich was deliverance from sin, the only yoke which really enslaves.\nZacharias the 'blameless' saw what the true bondage of the nation\nwas, and what the work both of the Deliverer and of His herald must\nbe. We need to be perpetually reminded of the truth that the only\nsalvation and deliverance which can do us any good consist in\ngetting rid, by pardon and by holiness, of the cords of our sins.\n\nIII. The thoughts of the Forerunner and his office melt into that of\nthe Messianic blessings from which the singer cannot long turn away.\nIn these closing words, we have the source, the essential nature,\nand the blessed results of the gift of Christ set forth in a noble\nfigure, and freed from the national limitations of the earlier part\nof the hymn. All comes from the 'bowels of mercy of our God,' as\nZacharias, in accordance with Old Testament metaphor, speaks,\nallocating the seat of the emotions which we attribute to the heart.\nConventional notions of delicacy think the Hebrew idea coarse, but\nthe one allocation is just as delicate as the other. We can get no\ndeeper down or farther back into the secret springs of things than\nthis--that the root cause of all, and most especially of the mission\nof Christ, is the pitying love of God's heart. If we hold fast by\nthat, the pain of the riddle of the world is past, and the riddle\nitself more than half solved. Jesus Christ is the greatest gift of\nthat love, in which all its tenderness and all its power are\ngathered up for our blessing.\n\nThe modern civilised world owes most of its activity to the\nquickening influence of Christianity. The dayspring visits us that\nit may shine on us, and it shines that it may guide us into 'the way\nof peace.' There can be no wider and more accurate description of\nthe end of Christ's mission than this--that all His visitation and\nenlightenment are meant to lead us into the path where we shall find\npeace with God, and therefore with ourselves and with all mankind.\nThe word  'peace,' in the Old Testament, is used to include the sum\nof all that men require for their conscious well-being. We are at\nrest only when all our relations with God and the outer world are\nright, and when our inner being is harmonised with itself, and\nsupplied with appropriate objects. To know God for our friend, to\nhave our being fixed on and satisfied in Him, and so to be\nreconciled to all circumstances, and a friend of all men--this is\npeace; and the path to such a blessed condition is shown us only by\nthat Sun of Righteousness whom the loving heart of God has sent into\nthe darkness and torpor of the benighted wanderers in the desert.\nThe national reference has faded from the song, and though it still\nspeaks of 'us' and 'our,' we cannot doubt that Zacharias both saw\nmore deeply into the salvation which Christ would bring than to\nlimit it to breaking an earthly yoke, and deemed more worthily and\nwidely of its sweep, than to confine it within narrower bounds than\nthe whole extent of the dreary darkness which it came to banish from\nall the world.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DAYSPRING FROM ON HIGH\n\n\n    'The day-spring from on high hath visited us, 79. To\n    give light to them that sit in darkness and in the\n    shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of\n    peace.'--LUKE i. 78, 79.\n\nAs the dawn is ushered in by the notes of birds, so the rising of\nthe Sun of Righteousness was heralded by song, Mary and Zacharias\nbrought their praises and welcome to the unborn Christ, the angels\nhovered with heavenly music over His cradle, and Simeon took the\nchild in his arms and blessed it. The human members of this choir\nmay be regarded as the last of the psalmists and prophets, and the\nfirst of Christian singers. The song of Zacharias, from which my\ntext is taken, is steeped in Old Testament allusions, and redolent\nof the ancient spirit, but it transcends that. Its early part is\npurely national, and hails the coming of the Messiah chiefly as the\ndeliverer of Israel from foreign oppressors, though even in it their\ndeliverance is regarded mostly as the means to an end, and the end\none very appropriate on the lips of a priestly prophet---viz.\nsacerdotal service by the whole nation 'in holiness and\nrighteousness all their days.'\n\nBut in this latter portion, which is separated from the former by\nthe pathetic, incidental, and slight reference to the singer's own\nchild, the national limits are far surpassed. The song soars above\nthem, and pierces to the very heart and kernel of Christ's work.\n'The dayspring from on high hath visited us, to give light to them\nthat sit in darkness and the shadow of death, to guide our feet into\nthe way of peace.' Nothing deeper, nothing wider, nothing truer\nabout the mission and issue of Christ's coming could be spoken. And\nthus we have to look at the three things that lie in this text, as\nbearing upon our conceptions of Christ and His work--the darkness,\nthe dawn, and the directing light.\n\nI. The darkness.\n\nZacharias, as becomes the last of the prophets, and a man whose\nwhole religious life was nourished upon the ancient Scriptures,\nspeaks almost entirely in Old Testament phraseology in this song.\nAnd his description of 'them that sit in darkness and the shadow of\ndeath' is taken almost verbally from the great words from the Book\nof the Prophet Isaiah, who speaks, in immediate connection with his\nprophecy of the coming of the Christ, of 'the people that walk in\ndarkness and them that dwell,' or sit, 'in the shadow of death, upon\nwhom the light hath shined.'\n\nThe picture that rises before us is that of a group of travellers\nbenighted, bewildered, huddled together in the dark, afraid to move\nfor fear of pitfalls, precipices, wild beasts, and enemies; and so\nsighing for the day and compelled to be inactive till it comes. That\nis the picture of humanity apart from Jesus Christ, a darkness so\nintense, so tragic, that it is, as it were, the very shadow of the\nultimate and essential darkness which is death, and in it men are\nsitting torpid, unable to find their way and afraid to move.\n\nNow darkness, all the world over, is the emblem of three\nthings--ignorance, impurity, sorrow. And all men who are rent\naway from Jesus Christ, or on whom His beams have not yet fallen,\nthis text tells us, have that triple curse lying upon them.\n\nIgnorance. Think of what, without Jesus Christ, the world has deemed\nof the unseen, and of the God, if there be a God, that may inhabit\nthere. He has been to them a great Peradventure, a great Terror, a\ngreat Inscrutable, a stone-eyed Fate, a thin, nebulous Nothing, with\nno emotion, no attributes, no heart, no ear to hear, the nearest\napproach to nonentity, according to the despairing saying of a\nmaster of philosophy, that 'pure Being is equal to pure Nothing.'\nAnd if all men do not rise to such heights of melancholy abstraction\nas that, still how little there is of blessed certainty, how little\nclearness of conception of a Divine Person that turns to us with\nlove and tenderness in His heart, apart from Christ and His\nteaching! If you take away from civilised men all the knowledge of\nGod that they owe to Jesus Christ, what have you left? The ladder by\nwhich they climbed is kicked away by a great many people nowadays,\nbut it is to Him that they owe the very conceptions in the name of\nwhich some of them turn round and deny Him.\n\nIgnorance of God, ignorance of one's own self and of one's deepest\nduties, and ignorance of that solemn future, the fact of which is\nplain to most men, but the how of which is such a blank mystery but\nfor Jesus Christ--these things are elements of the darkness that\nwraps the world. Go to heathendom if you want to see the problem\nworked out, as to what men know outside of the revelation which\nculminates in Jesus Christ. And take your own hearts, dear friends\nwho stand aside from that sweet Lord and light of our lives, and ask\nyourselves, What do I know, with a certainty which is to me as\nvalid, as--yea! more valid than that given by sense and outward\nperceptions? What do I know of God that I do not owe to Jesus\nChrist? Nothing. You may guess much, you may hope a little, you may\ndread a great deal, you may question more than all, but you will\n_know_ nothing.\n\nWell, then, further, this solemn emblem stands for impurity. And we\nhave only to consult our own hearts to feel how true it is about us\nall, that we dwell in a region all darkened, if not by the coarse\ntransgressions which men consent to call sins, yet darkened more\nsubtly and oftentimes more hopelessly by the obscuration of pure\nselfishness and living to myself and by myself. Wherever that comes,\nit is like the mists that steal up from some poisonous marsh, and\nshut out stars and sky, and drape the whole country in a melancholy\nveil. It is white but it is poisonous, it is white but it is\ndarkness all the same. There are other kinds of sin than the sins\nthat break the Ten Commandments; there are other kinds of sin than\nthe sins that the world takes cognisance of. The worst poisons are\nthe tasteless ones, and colourless gases are laden with fatal power.\nWe may walk in a darkness that may be felt, though there be nothing\nin our lives that men call sin, and little there of which our\nconsciences are as yet educated enough to be ashamed. Rent from God,\nman lives to himself, and so is sunk in darkness.\n\nAnd what shall I say about the third of the doleful triad of which\nthis pregnant emblem is the recognised symbol all the world over?\nSurely, though earth be full of blessing, and life of possibilities\nof joy, no man travels very far along the road without feeling that\nthe burden of sorrow is a burden that we all have to carry. There\nare blessings in plenty, there is mirth more than enough. There is\n'the laughter' which is 'the crackling of thorns' under a pot. There\nare plenty of distractions and amusements, 'blessings more plentiful\nthan hope'; but yet the ground tone of every human life, when the\nfirst flush of inexperience and novelty has worn off, apart from\nGod, is sadness, conscious of itself sometimes, and driven to all\nmanner of foolish attempts at forgetfulness, unconscious of itself\nsometimes, and knowing not what is the disease of which it\nlanguishes. There it is, like some persistent minor in a great piece\nof music, wailing on through all the embroidery and lightsomeness of\nthe cheerfuller and loftier notes. 'Every heart knoweth its own\nbitterness,' and every heart _has_ a bitterness of its own to\nknow.\n\nI do not understand how it is that men who have no religion in them\ncan bear their own sorrows and see their neighbours' and not go mad.\nSometimes the world seems to me to be moving round its central sun\nwith a doleful atmosphere of sighs wherever it goes, and all the\nmirth and stir and bustle are but like a thin crust of grass with\nflowers upon it, cast across the sulphurous depths of some volcano\nthat may slumber for a while, but is there all the same.\n\nBrother! you and I, away from Jesus Christ, have to face the\ncertainties of ignorance, of sin, of sorrow--ignorance unenlightened,\nsin unconquered, sorrow uncomforted.\n\nAnd then comes the other tragic, and yet most picturesque emblem in\nthe representation here: 'They _sit_ in darkness.' Yes! what\ncan they do, poor creatures? They know not where to go. The light\nhas left them, inactivity is a necessity. And so, with folded hands,\nthey wish for the day, or try to forget the night by lighting some\nlittle torch of their own that only serves to make darkness visible,\nand dies all too soon, leaving them to lie down in sorrow.\n\nBut, you say, 'What nonsense! Inactivity! look at the fierce energy\nof life in our Western lands.' Well, grant it all, there may be\nplenty of material activity attendant upon inward stagnation and\ntorpor. But, again, I would like to ask how much of the most\ngodless, commercial, artistic, intellectual activity of so-called\ncivilised and Christian countries is owing to the stimulus and\nferment that Jesus Christ brought. If you want to see how true it is\nthat men without Him _sit_ in the darkness, go to heathen\nlands, and see the stagnation, the torpor, there.\n\nNow, dear brethren, all this is true about us, in the measure in\nwhich we do not participate by faith and love, welcoming Him into\nour hearts in the illumination that Jesus Christ brings. And what I\nwant to do is to lay upon the hearts and consciences of each of us\nhere this thought, that the solemn, tragic picture of my text is the\npicture of me, separate from Christ, however I may try to conceal it\nfrom myself, and to mask it from other people by busying myself with\ninferior knowledges, by avoiding to listen to the answer that\nconscience gives to the question as to my moral character, and by\nbefooling myself with noisy joys and tumultuous pleasures, in which\nthere is no pleasure.\n\nII. Now, note secondly, the dayspring, or dawn.\n\nMy text, in the part on which I have just been speaking, links\nitself with ancient Messianic prophecy, and this expression, 'the\ndayspring from on high.' also links itself with other prophecies of\nthe same sort. Almost the last word of prophecy before the four\ncenturies of silence which Mary and Zacharias broke, was, 'Unto you\nthat fear His name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise with healing\nin His beams.' There can be little doubt, I think, that the allusion\nof my text is to these all but the last words of the prophet\nMalachi. For that final chapter of the Old Testament colours the\nsong both of Mary and of Zacharias. And it is to be observed that\nthe Greek translation of the Hebrew uses the same verb, of which the\ncognate noun is here employed, for the rising of the Sun of\nRighteousness. The picturesque old English word 'dayspring' means\nneither more nor less than _sunrising_. And it is here used\npractically as a name for Jesus Christ, who is Himself the Sun,\nrepresented as rising over a darkened earth, and yet, with a\nsingular neglect of the propriety of the metaphor, as descending\nfrom on high, not to shine on us from the sky, but to 'visit us' on\nearth.\n\nJesus Christ Himself, over and over again, said by implication, and\nmore than once by direct claim, 'I am the Light of the world.' And\nmy text is the anticipation, perhaps from lips that did not fully\nunderstand the whole significance of the prophecy which they spoke,\nof these later declarations. I have said that the darkness is the\nemblem of three baleful things, of the converse of which light is\nthe symbol. As the darkness speaks to us of ignorance, so Christ, as\nthe Sun illumines us with the light of 'the knowledge of the glory\nof God in the face of Jesus Christ.' For doubt we have blessed\ncertainty, for a far-off God we have the knowledge of God close at\nhand. For an impassive will or a stony-eyed fate we have the\nknowledge (and not only the wistful yearning after the knowledge) of\na loving heart, warm and throbbing. Our God is no unemotional\nabstraction, but a living Person who can love, who can pity, and we\nare speaking more than poetry when we say, God is compassion, and\ncompassion is God. This we know because 'He that hath seen Me hath\nseen the Father.' And the solid certainty of a loving God, tender,\npitying, mighty to help, quick to hear, ready to forgive, waiting to\nbless, is borne into our hearts, and comes there, sweet as the\nsunshine, when we turn ourselves to the light of Christ.\n\nIn like manner the darkness, born of our own sin, which wraps our\nhearts, and shuts out so much that is fair and sweet and strong,\nwill pass away if we turn ourselves to Him. His light pouring into\nour souls will hurt the eye at first, but it will hurt to cure. The\ndarkness of sin and alienation will pass, and the true light will\nshine.\n\nThe darkness of sorrow--well! it will not cease, but He will 'smooth\nthe raven down of darkness till it smiles,' and He will bring into\nour griefs such a spirit of quiet submission as that they shall\nchange into a solemn scorn of ills, and be almost like gladnesses.\nPeace, which is better than exuberant delight, will come to quiet\nthe sorrow of the soul that trusts in Jesus Christ. The day which is\nknowledge, purity, gladsomeness, the cheerful day will be ours if we\nhold by Him. We 'are all the children of the light and of the day';\nwe 'are not of the night nor of darkness.'\n\nBrother, it is possible to grope at noontide as in the dark, and in\nall the blaze of Christ's revelation still to be left in the\nCimmerian folds of midnight gloom. You can shut your eyes to the\nsunshine; have you opened your hearts to its coming?\n\nI cannot dwell (your time will not allow of it) upon the other\npoints connected with this description of the day spring, except\njust to point out in passing the singular force and depth of the\nwords--which I suppose are more forcible and deep than he who spoke\nthem understood at the time that visitation was described. The\ndayspring is 'from on high.' This Sun has come down on to the earth.\nIt has not risen on a far-off horizon, but it has come down and\nvisited us, and walks among us. This Sun, our life-star, 'hath had\nelsewhere its setting, and cometh from afar.' For He that rises upon\nus as the Light of life, hath descended from the heavens, and was,\nbefore He appeared amongst men.\n\nAnd His coming is a divine visitation. The word here 'hath\n_visited_ us' (or 'shall visit us,' as the Revised Version\nvaries it), is chiefly employed in the Old Testament to describe the\ndivine acts of self-revelation, and these, mostly redemptive acts.\nZacharias employs it in that sense in the earlier portion of the\nsong, where he says that 'God hath visited and redeemed His people.'\nAnd so from the use of this word we gather these two thoughts--God\ncomes to us when Christ comes to us, and His coming is wondrous,\nblessed nearness, and nearness to each of us. 'What is man that Thou\nshouldst be mindful of him, or the son of man that Thou shouldst\nvisit him?' said the old Psalmist. We say 'What is man that the\nDayspring from on high should come down upon earth, and round His\nimmortal beams, should, as it were, cast the veil and obscuration of\na human form; and so walk amongst us, the embodied Light and the\nIncarnate God?' 'The dayspring from on high hath visited us.'\n\nIII. Lastly, note the directing by the light.\n\n'To guide our feet into the way of peace.' This Sun stoops to the\noffice of the star that moved before the wise men and hovered over\nHis cradle, and becomes to each individual soul a guide and\ndirector. The picture of my text, I suppose, carries us on to the\nmorning, when the benighted travellers catch the first gleams of the\nrising sun and resume their activity, and there is a cheerful stir\nthrough the encampment and the way is open before them once more,\nand they are ready to walk in it. The force of the metaphor,\nhowever, implies more than that, for it speaks to us of the wonder\nthat this universal Light should become the special guide of each\nindividual soul, and should not merely hang in the heavens, to cast\nthe broad radiance of its beams over the whole surface of the earth,\nbut should move before each man, a light unto _his_ feet and a\nlamp to _his_ path, in special manifestation to him of his duty\nand his life's pilgrimage.\n\nThere is only one way of peace, and that is to follow His beams and\nto be directed by His preceding us. Then we shall realise the most\nindispensable of all the conditions of peace--Christ brings you and\nme the reconciliation which puts us at peace with God, which is the\nfoundation of all other tranquillity. And He will guide docile feet\ninto the way of peace in yet another fashion--in that the following\nof His example, the cleaving to Him, the holding by His skirts or by\nHis hand, and the treading in His footsteps, is the only way by\nwhich the heart can receive the solid satisfaction in which it\nrests, and the conscience can cease from accusing and stinging. The\nway of wisdom is a path of pleasantness and a way of peace. Only\nthey who walk in Christ's footsteps have quiet hearts and are at\namity with God, in concord with themselves, friends of mankind, and\nat peace with circumstances. There is no strife within, no strained\nrelations or hostile alienation to God, no gnawing unrest of\nunsatisfied desires, no pricks of accusing conscience; for the man\nwho puts his hand into Christ's hand, and says, 'Order Thou my\nfootsteps by Thy word'; 'Where Thou goest I will go, and what Thou\ncommandest I will do.'\n\nBrother, put thy hand out from the darkness and clasp His, and 'the\ndarkness shall be light about thee'; and He will fulfil His own\npromise when He said, 'I am the Light of the world. He that\nfolloweth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the Light of\nlife.\n\n\n\n\nSHEPHERDS AND ANGELS\n\n\n    'And there were in the same country shepherds abiding\n    in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.\n    9. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and\n    the glory of the Lord shone round about them; and they\n    were sore afraid. 10. And the angel said unto them,\n    Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of\n    great joy, which shall be to all people. 11. For unto\n    you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour,\n    which is Christ the Lord. 12. And this shall be a sign\n    unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling\n    clothes, lying in a manger. 13. And suddenly there was\n    with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising\n    God, and saying, 14. Glory to God in the highest, and\n    on earth peace, good will toward men. 15. And it came\n    to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into\n    heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now\n    go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is\n    come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.\n    16. And they came with haste, and found Mary and\n    Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. 17. And when\n    they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying\n    which was told them concerning this child. 18. And all\n    they that heard it wondered at those things which were\n    told them by the shepherds. 19. But Mary kept all\n    these things, and pondered them in her heart. 20. And\n    the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God\n    for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it\n    was told unto them.'--LUKE ii. 8-20.\n\nThe central portion of this passage is, of course, the angels'\nmessage and song, the former of which proclaims the transcendent\nfact of the Incarnation, and the latter hymns its blessed results.\nBut, subsidiary to these, the silent vision which preceded them and\nthe visit to Bethlehem which followed are to be noted. Taken\ntogether, they cast varying gleams on the great fact of the birth of\nJesus Christ.\n\nWhy should there be a miraculous announcement at all, and why should\nit be to these shepherds? It seems to have had no effect beyond a\nnarrow circle and for a time. It was apparently utterly forgotten\nwhen, thirty years after, the carpenter's Son began His ministry.\nCould such an event have passed from memory, and left no ripple on\nthe surface? Does not the resultlessness cast suspicion on the\ntruthfulness of the narrative? Not if we duly give weight to the few\nwho knew of the wonder; to the length of time that elapsed, during\nwhich the shepherds and their auditors probably died; to their\nhumble position, and to the short remembrance of extraordinary\nevents which have no immediate consequences. Joseph and Mary were\nstrangers in Bethlehem. Christ never visited it, so far as we know.\nThe fading of the impression cannot be called strange, for it\naccords with natural tendencies; but the record of so great an\nevent, which was entirely ineffectual as regards future acceptance\nof Christ's claims, is so unlike legend that it vouches for the\ntruth of the narrative. An apparent stumbling-block is left, because\nthe story is true.\n\nWhy then, the announcement at all, since it was of so little use?\nBecause it was of some; but still more, because it was fitting that\nsuch angel voices should attend such an event, whether men gave heed\nto them or not; and because, recorded, their song has helped a world\nto understand the nature and meaning of that birth. The glory died\noff the hillside quickly, and the music of the song scarcely\nlingered longer in the ears of its first hearers; but its notes echo\nstill in all lands, and every generation turns to them with wonder\nand hope.\n\nThe selection of two or three peasants as receivers of the message,\nthe time at which it was given, and the place, are all significant.\nIt was no unmeaning fact that the 'glory of the Lord' shone lambent\nround the shepherds, and held them and the angel standing beside\nthem in its circle of light. No longer within the secret shrine, but\nout in the open field, the symbol of the Divine Presence glowed\nthrough the darkness; for that birth hallowed common life, and\nbrought the glory of God into familiar intercourse with its\nsecularities and smallnesses. The appearance to these humble men as\nthey 'sat simply chatting in a rustic row 'symbolised the\ndestination of the Gospel for all ranks and classes.\n\nThe angel speaks by the side of the shepherds, not from above. His\ngentle encouragement 'Fear not!' not only soothes their present\nterror, but has a wider meaning. The dread of the Unseen, which lies\ncoiled like a sleeping snake in all hearts, is utterly taken away by\nthe Incarnation. All messages from that realm are thenceforward\n'tidings of great joy,' and love and desire may pass into it, as all\nmen shall one day pass, and both enterings may be peaceful and\nconfident. Nothing harmful can come out of the darkness, from which\nJesus has come, into which He has passed, and which He fills.\n\nThe great announcement, the mightiest, most wonderful word that had\never passed angels' immortal lips, is characterised as 'great joy'\nto 'all the people,' in which designation two things are to be\nnoted--the nature and the limitation of the message. In how many\nways the Incarnation was to be the fountain of purest gladness was\nbut little discerned, either by the heavenly messenger or the\nshepherds. The ages since have been partially learning it, but not\ntill the 'glorified joy' of heaven swells redeemed hearts will all\nits sorrow-dispelling power be experimentally known. Base joys may\nbe basely sought, but His creatures' gladness is dear to God, and if\nsought in God's way, is a worthy object of their efforts.\n\nThe world-wide sweep of the Incarnation does not appear here, but\nonly its first destination for Israel. This is manifest in the\nphrase 'all the people,' in the mention of 'the city of David' and\nin the emphatic 'you,' in contradistinction both from the messenger,\nwho announced what he did not share, and Gentiles, to whom the\nblessing was not to pass till Israel had determined its attitude to\nit.\n\nThe titles of the Infant tell something of the wonder of the birth,\nbut do not unfold its overwhelming mystery. Magnificent as they are,\nthey fall far short of 'The Word was made flesh.' They keep within\nthe circle of Jewish expectation, and announce that the hopes of\ncenturies are fulfilled. There is something very grand in the\naccumulation of titles, each greater than the preceding, and all\nculminating in that final 'Lord.' Handel has gloriously given the\nspirit of it in the crash of triumph with which that last word is\npealed out in his oratorio. 'Saviour' means far more than the\nshepherds knew; for it declares the Child to be the deliverer from\nall evil, both of sin and sorrow, and the endower with all good,\nboth of righteousness and blessedness. The 'Christ' claims that He\nis the fulfiller of prophecy, perfectly endowed by divine anointing\nfor His office of prophet, priest, and king--the consummate flower\nof ancient revelation, greater than Moses the law-giver, than\nSolomon the king, than Jonah the prophet. 'The Lord' is scarcely to\nbe taken as the ascription of divinity, but rather as a prophecy of\nauthority and dominion, implying reverence, but not unveiling the\ndeepest secret of the entrance of the divine Son into humanity. That\nremained unrevealed, for the time was not yet ripe.\n\nThere would be few children of a day old in a little place like\nBethlehem, and none but one lying in a manger. The fact of the\nbirth, which could be verified by sight, would confirm the message\nin its outward aspect, and thereby lead to belief in the angel's\ndisclosure of its inward character. The 'sign' attested the veracity\nof the messenger, and therefore the truth of all his word--both of\nthat part of it capable of verification by sight and that part\napprehensible by faith.\n\nNo wonder that the sudden light and music of the multitude of the\nheavenly host' flashed and echoed round the group on the hillside.\nThe true picture is not given when we think of that angel choir as\nfloating in heaven. They stood in their serried ranks round the\nshepherds and their fellows on the solid earth, and 'the night was\nfilled with music,' not from overhead, but from every side. Crowding\nforms became all at once visible within the encircling 'glory,' on\nevery face wondering gladness and eager sympathy with men, from\nevery lip praise. Angels can speak with the tongues of men when\ntheir theme is their Lord become man, and their auditors are men.\nThey hymn the blessed results of that birth, the mystery of which\nthey knew more completely than they were yet allowed to tell.\n\nAs was natural for them, their praise is first evoked by the result\nof the Incarnation in the highest heavens. It will bring 'glory to\nGod' there; for by it new aspects of His nature are revealed to\nthose clear-eyed and immortal spirits who for unnumbered ages have\nknown His power, His holiness, His benignity to unfallen creatures,\nbut now experience the wonder which more properly belongs to more\nlimited intelligences, when they behold that depth of condescending\nLove stooping to be born. Even they think more loftily of God, and\nmore of man's possibilities and worth, when they cluster round the\nmanger, and see who lies there.\n\n'On earth peace.' The song drops from the contemplation of the\nheavenly consequences to celebrate the results on earth, and gathers\nthem all into one pregnant word, 'Peace.' What a scene of strife,\ndiscord, and unrest earth must seem to those calm spirits! And how\nvain and petty the struggles must look, like the bustle of an ant-hill!\nChrist's work is to bring peace into all human relations, those with\nGod, with men, with circumstances, and to calm the discords of souls\nat war with themselves. Every one of these relations is marred by sin,\nand nothing less thorough than a power which removes it can rectify\nthem. That birth was the coming into humanity of Him who brings peace\nwith God, with ourselves, with one another. Shame on Christendom that\nnineteen centuries have passed, and men yet think the cessation of\nwar is only a 'pious imagination'! The ringing music of that angel\nchant has died away, but its promise abides.\n\nThe symmetry of the song is best preserved, as I humbly venture to\nthink, by the old reading as in the Authorised Version. The other,\nrepresented by the Revised Version, seems to make the second clause\ndrag somewhat, with two designations of the region of peace. The\nIncarnation brings God's 'good will' to dwell among men. In Christ,\nGod is well pleased; and from Him incarnate, streams of divine\ncomplacent love pour out to freshen and fertilise the earth.\n\nThe disappearance of the heavenly choristers does not seem to have\nbeen so sudden as their appearance. They 'went away from them into\nheaven,' as if leisurely, and so that their ascending brightness was\nlong visible as they rose, and attestation was thereby given to the\nreality of the vision. The sleeping village was close by, and as\nsoon as the last gleam of the departing light had faded in the\ndepths of heaven, the shepherds went 'with haste,' untimely as was\nthe hour. They would not have much difficulty in finding the inn and\nthe manger. Note that they do not tell their story till the sight\nhas confirmed the angel message. Their silence was not from doubt;\nfor they say, before they had seen the child, that 'this thing' is\n'come to pass,' and are quite sure that the Lord has told it them.\nBut they wait for the evidence which shall assure others of their\ntruthfulness.\n\nThere are three attitudes of mind towards God's revelation set forth\nin living examples in the closing verses of the passage. Note the\nconduct of the shepherds, as a type of the natural impulse and\nimperative duty of all possessors of God's truth. Such a story as\nthey had to tell would burn its way to utterance in the most\nreticent and shyest. But have Christians a less wonderful message to\ndeliver, or a less needful one? If the spectators of the cradle\ncould not be silent, how impossible it ought to be for the witnesses\nof the Cross to lock their lips!\n\nThe hearers of the story did what, alas! too many of us do with the\nGospel. 'They wondered,' and stopped there. A feeble ripple of\nastonishment ruffled the surface of their souls for a moment; but\nlike the streaks on the sea made by a catspaw of wind, it soon died\nout, and the depths were unaffected by it.\n\nThe antithesis to this barren wonder is the beautiful picture of the\nVirgin's demeanour. She 'kept all these sayings, and pondered them\nin her heart.' What deep thoughts the mother of the Lord had, were\nhers alone. But we have the same duty to the truth, and it will\nnever disclose its inmost sweetness to us, nor take so sovereign a\ngrip of our very selves as to mould our lives, unless we too\ntreasure it in our hearts, and by patient brooding on it understand\nits hidden harmonies, and spread our souls out to receive its\ntransforming power. A non-meditative religion is a shallow religion.\nBut if we hide His word in our hearts, and often in secret draw out\nour treasure to count and weigh it, we shall be able to speak out of\na full heart, and like these shepherds, to rejoice that we have seen\neven as it was spoken unto us.\n\n\n\n\nWAS, IS, IS TO COME\n\n\n    '... The babe lying in a manger...'--LUKE ii. 16.\n\n    '... While He blessed them, He was parted from them,\n    and carried up into heaven...'--LUKE xxiv. 51.\n\n    'This same Jesus... shall so come in like manner as\n    ye have seen Him go...'--ACTS I. 11.\n\nThese three fragments, which I have ventured to isolate and bring\ntogether, are all found in one author's writings. Luke's biography\nof Jesus stretches from the cradle in Bethlehem to the Ascension\nfrom Olivet. He narrates the Ascension twice, because it has two\naspects. In one it looks backward, and is necessary as the\ncompletion of what was begun in the birth. In one it looks forward,\nand makes necessary, as its completion, that coming which still lies\nin the future. These three stand up, like linked summits in a\nmountain. We can understand none of them unless we embrace them all.\nIf the story of the birth is true, a life so begun cannot end in an\nundistinguished death like that of all men. And if the Ascension\nfrom Olivet is true, that cannot close the history of His relations\nto men. The creed which proclaims He was 'born of the Virgin Mary'\nmust go on to say '... He ascended up into heaven'; and cannot pause\ntill it adds '...From thence He shall come to judge the quick and\nthe dead.' So we have then three points to consider in this sermon.\n\nI. Note first, the three great moments.\n\nThe thing that befell at Bethlehem, in the stable of the inn, was a\ncommonplace and insignificant enough event looked at from the\noutside: the birth of a child to a young mother. It had its elements\nof pathos in its occurring at a distance from home, among the\npublicity and discomforts of an inn stable, and with some cloud of\nsuspicion over the mother's fair fame. But the outside of a fact is\nthe least part of it. A little film of sea-weed floats upon the\nsurface, but there are fathoms of it below the water. Men said, 'A\nchild is born.' Angels said, and bowed their faces in adoration,\n'The Word has become flesh'. The eternal, self-communicating\npersonality in the Godhead, passed voluntarily into the condition of\nhumanity. Jesus was born, the Son of God came. Only when we hold\nfast by that great truth do we pierce to the centre of what was done\nin that poor stable, and possess the key to all the wonders of His\nlife and death.\n\nFrom the manger we pass to the mountain. A life begun by such a\nbirth cannot be ended, as I have said, by a mere ordinary death. The\nAlpha and the Omega of that alphabet must belong to the same fount\nof type. A divine conformity forbids that He who was born of the\nVirgin Mary should have His body laid to rest in an undistinguished\ngrave. And so what Bethlehem began, Olivet carries on.\n\nNote the circumstances of this second of these great moments. The\nplace is significant. Almost within sight of the city, a stone's\nthrow probably from the home where He had lodged, and where He had\nconquered death in the person of Lazurus; not far from the turn of the\nroad where the tears had come into His eyes amidst the shouting of the\nrustic procession, as He had looked across the valley; just above\nGethsemane, where He had agonised on that bare hillside to which He\nhad often gone for communion with the Father in heaven. There, in some\ndimple of the hill, and unseen but by the little group that surrounded\nHim, He passed from their midst. The manner of the departure is yet\nmore significant than the place. Here were no whirlwind, no chariots\nand horses of fire, no sudden rapture; but, as the narrative makes\nemphatic, a slow, leisurely, self-originated floating upwards. He was\nborne up from them, and no outward vehicle or help was needed; but by\nHis own volition and power He rose towards the heavens. 'And a cloud\nreceived Him out of their sight'--the Shechinah cloud, the bright\nsymbol of the Divine Presence which had shone round the shepherds on\nthe pastures of Bethlehem, and enwrapped Him and the three disciples\non the Mount of Transfiguration. It came not to lift Him on its soft\nfolds to the heavens, but in order that, first, He might be plainly\nseen till the moment that He ceased to be seen, and might not dwindle\ninto a speck by reason of distance; and secondly, that it might teach\nthe truth, that, as His body was received into the cloud, so He entered\ninto the glory which He 'had with the Father before the world was.'\nSuch was the second of these moments.\n\nThe third great moment corresponds to these, is required by them,\nand crowns them. The Ascension was not only the close of Christ's\nearthly life which would preserve congruity with its beginning, but\nit was also the clear manifestation that, as He came of His own\nwill, so He departed by His own volition. 'I came forth from the\nFather, and am come into the world. Again, I leave the world and go\nunto the Father.' Thus the earthly life is, as it were, islanded in\na sea of glory, and that which stretches away beyond the last moment\nof visibility, is like that which stretched away beyond the first\nmoment of corporeity; the eternal union with the eternal Father. But\nsuch an entrance on and departure from earth, and such a career on\nearth, can only end in that coming again of which the angels spoke\nto the gazing eleven.\n\nMark the emphasis of their words. 'This same Jesus,' the same in His\nmanhood, 'shall so come, in like manner, as ye have seen Him go.'\nHow much the 'in like manner' may mean we can scarcely dogmatically\naffirm. But this, at least, is clear, that it cannot mean less than\ncorporeally visible, locally surrounded by angel-guards, and\nperhaps, according to a mysterious prophecy, to the same spot from\nwhich He ascended. But, at all events, there are the three moments\nin the manifestation of the Son of God.\n\nII. Look, in the second place, at the threefold phases of our Lord's\nactivity which are thus suggested.\n\nI need not dwell, in more than a sentence or two, on the first of\nthese. Each of these three moments is the inauguration of a form of\nactivity which lasts till the emergence of the next of the triad.\n\nThe birth at Bethlehem had, for its consequence and purpose, a\nthreefold end: the revelation of God in humanity, the manifestation\nof perfect manhood to men, and the rendering of the great sacrifice\nfor the sins of the world. These three--showing us God; showing\nourselves as we are and as we may be; as we ought to be, and,\nblessed be His name, as we shall be, if we observe the conditions;\nand the making reconciliation for the sins of the whole world--these\nare the things for which the Babe lying in the manger was born and\ncame under the limitations of humanity.\n\nTurn to the second of the three, and what shall we say of it? That\nAscension has for its great purpose the application to men of the\nresults of the Incarnation. He was born that He might show us God\nand ourselves, and that He might die for us. He ascended up on high\nin order that the benefits of that Revelation and Atonement might be\nextended through, and appropriated by, the whole world.\n\nOne chief thought which is enforced by the narrative of the\nAscension is the permanence, the eternity of the humanity of Jesus\nChrist. He ascended up where He was before, but He who ascended is\nnot altogether the same as He who had been there before, for He has\ntaken up with Him our nature to the centre of the universe and the\nthrone of God, and there, 'bone of our bone, and flesh of our\nflesh,' a true man in body, soul, and spirit, He lives and reigns.\nThe cradle at Bethlehem assumes even greater solemnity when we think\nof it as the beginning of a humanity that is never laid aside. So we\ncan look confidently to all that blaze of light where He sits, and\nfeel that, howsoever the body of His humiliation may have been\nchanged into the body of His glory, He still remains corporeally and\nspiritually a true Son of man. Thus the face that looks down from\namidst the blaze, though it be 'as the sun shineth in his strength,'\nis the old face; and the breast which is girded with the golden\ngirdle is the same breast on which the seer had leaned his happy\nhead; and the hand that holds the sceptre is the hand that was\npierced with the nails; and the Christ that is ascended up on high\nis the Christ that loved and pitied adulteresses and publicans, and\ntook the little child in His gracious arms--'The same yesterday, and\nto-day, and for ever.'\n\nChrist's Ascension is as the broad seal of heaven attesting the\ncompleteness of His work on earth. It inaugurates His repose which\nis not the sign of His weariness, but of His having finished all\nwhich He was born to do. But that repose is not idleness. Rather it\nis full of activity.\n\nOn the Cross He shouted with a great voice ere He died, 'It is\nfinished.' But centuries, perhaps millenniums, yet will have to\nelapse before the choirs of angels shall be able to chant, 'It is\ndone: the kingdoms of the world are the kingdoms of God and of His\nChrist.' All the interval is filled by the working of that ascended\nLord whose session at the right hand of God is not only symbolical\nof perfect repose and a completed sacrifice, but also of perfect\nactivity in and with His servants.\n\nHe has gone--to rest, to reign, to work, to intercede, and to\nprepare a place for us. For if our Brother be indeed at the right\nhand of God, then our faltering feet may travel to the Throne, and\nour sinful selves may be at home there. The living Christ, working\nto-day, is that of which the Ascension from Olivet gives us the\nguarantee.\n\nThe third great moment will inaugurate yet another form of activity\nas necessary and certain as either of the two preceding. For if His\ncradle was what we believe it to have been, and if His sacrifice was\nwhat Scripture tells us it is, and if through all the ages He,\ncrowned and regnant, is working for the diffusion of the powers of\nHis Cross and the benefits of His Incarnation, there can be no end\nto that course except the one which is expressed for us by the\nangels' message to the gazing disciples: He shall so come in like\nmanner as ye have seen Him go. He will come to manifest Himself as\nthe King of the world and its Lord and Redeemer. He will come to\ninaugurate the great act of Judgment, which His great act of\nRedemption necessarily draws after it, and Himself be the Arbiter of\nthe fates of men, the determining factor in whose fates has been\ntheir relation to Him. No doubt many who never heard His name upon\nearth will, in that day be, by His clear eye and perfect judgment,\ndiscerned to have visited the sick and the imprisoned, and to have\ndone many acts for His sake. And for us who know Him, and have heard\nHis name, the way in which we stand affected in heart and will to\nChrist reveals and settles our whole character, shapes our whole\nbeing, and will determine our whole destiny. He comes, not only to\nmanifest Himself so as that 'every eye shall see Him,' and to divide\nthe sheep from the goats, but also in order that He may reign for\never and gather into the fellowship of His love and the community of\nHis joys all who love and trust Him here. These are the triple\nphases of our Lord's activity suggested by the three great moments.\n\nIII. Lastly, notice the triple attitude which we should assume to\nHim and to them.\n\nFor the first, the cradle, with its consequence of the Cross, our\nresponse is clinging faith, grateful memory, earnest following, and\nclose conformity. For the second, the Ascension, with its\nconsequence of a Christ that lives and labours for us, and is with\nus, our attitude ought to be an intense realisation of the fact of\nHis present working and of His present abode with us. The centre of\nChristian doctrine has, amongst average Christians, been far too\nexclusively fixed within the limits of the earthly life, and in the\ninterests of a true and comprehensive grasp of all the blessedness\nthat Christianity is capable of bringing to men, I would protest\nagainst that type of thought, earnest and true as it may be within\nits narrow limits, which is always pointing men to the past fact of\na Cross, and slurs over and obscures the present fact of a living\nChrist who is with us, and in us. One difference between Him and all\nother benefactors and teachers and helpers is this, that, as ages go\non, thicker and ever-thickening folds of misty oblivion wrap them,\nand their influence diminishes as new circumstances emerge, but this\nChrist's power laughs at the centuries, and is untinged by oblivion,\nand is never out of date. For all others we have to say--'having\nserved his generation,' or a generation or two more, 'according to\nthe will of God, he fell on sleep.' But Christ knows no corruption,\nand is for ever more the Leader, and the Companion, and the Friend,\nof each new age.\n\nBrethren! the Cross is incomplete without the throne. We are told to\ngo back to the historical Christ. Yes, Amen, I say! But do not let\nthat make us lose our grasp of the living Christ who is with us to-day.\nWhilst we rejoice over the 'Christ that died,' let us go on with Paul\nto say, 'Yea! rather, that is risen again, and is even at the right\nhand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.'\n\nFor that future, discredited as the thought of the second corporeal\ncoming of the Lord Jesus in visible fashion and to a locality has\nbeen by the fancies and the vagaries of so-called Apocalyptic\nexpositors, let us not forget that it is the hope of Christ's\nChurch, and that 'they who love His appearing' is, by the Apostle,\nused as the description and definition of the Christian character.\nWe have to look forwards as well as backwards and upwards, and to\nrejoice in the sure and certain confidence that the Christ who has\ncome is the Christ who will come.\n\nFor us the past should be full of Him, and memory and faith should\ncling to His Incarnation and His Cross. The present should be full\nof Him, and our hearts should commune with Him amidst the toils of\nearth. The future should be full of Him, and our hopes should be\nbased upon no vague anticipations of a perfectibility of humanity,\nnor upon any dim dreams of what may lie beyond the grave; but upon\nthe concrete fact that Jesus Christ has risen, and that Jesus Christ\nis glorified. Does my faith grasp the Christ that was--who died for\nme? Does my heart cling to the Christ who is--who lives and reigns,\nand with whom my life is hid in God? Do my hopes crystallise round,\nand anchor upon, the Christ that is to come, and pierce the dimness\nof the future and the gloom of the grave, looking onwards to that\nday of days when He, who is our life, shall appear, and we shall\nappear also with Him in glory?\n\n\n\n\nSIMEON'S SWAN-SONG\n\n\n    'Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace,\n    according to Thy word: 30. For mine eyes have seen Thy\n    salvation.'--LUKE ii. 29,30.\n\nThat scene, when the old man took the Infant in his withered arms,\nis one of the most picturesque and striking in the Gospel narrative.\nSimeon's whole life appears, in its later years, to have been under\nthe immediate direction of the Spirit of God. It is very remarkable\nto notice how, in the course of three consecutive verses, the\noperation of that divine Spirit upon him is noted. 'It was revealed\nunto him by the Holy Ghost that he should not see death before he\nhad seen the Lord's Christ.' 'And he came by the Spirit into the\nTemple.' I suppose that means that some inward monition, which he\nrecognised to be of God, sent him there, in the expectation that at\nlast he was to 'see the Lord's Christ.' He was there before the\nChild was brought by His parents, for we read 'He came by the Spirit\ninto the Temple, and when the parents brought in the Child Jesus ...\nhe took Him in his arms.' Think of the old man, waiting there in the\nSanctuary, told by God that he was thus about to have the fulfilment\nof his life-long desire, and yet probably not knowing what kind of a\nshape the fulfilment would take. There is no reason to believe that\nhe knew he was to see an infant; and he waits. And presently a\npeasant woman comes in with a child in her arms, and there arises in\nhis soul the voice 'Anoint Him! for this is He!' And so, whether he\nexpected such a vision or no, he takes the Child in his arms, and\nsays, 'Lord! Now, now !--after all these years of waiting--lettest\nThou Thy servant depart in peace.'\n\nNow, it seems to me that there are two or three very interesting\nthoughts deducible from this incident, and from these words. I take\nthree of them. Here we have the Old recognising and embracing the\nNew; the slave recognising and submitting to his Owner; and the\nsaint recognising and welcoming the approach of death.\n\nI. The Old recognising and embracing the New.\n\nIt is striking to observe how the description of Simeon's character\nexpresses the aim of the whole Old Testament Revelation. All that\nwas meant by the preceding long series of manifestations through all\nthese years was accomplished in this man. For hearken how he is\ndescribed--'just and devout,' that is the perfection of moral\ncharacter, stated in the terms of the Old Testament; 'waiting for\nthe Consolation of Israel,' that is the ideal attitude which the\nwhole of the gradual manifestation of God's increasing purpose\nrunning through the ages was intended to make the attitude of every\ntrue Israelite--an expectant, eager look forwards, and in the\npresent, the discharge of all duties to God and man. 'And the Holy\nGhost was upon him'; that, too, in a measure, was the ultimate aim\nof the whole Revelation of Israel. So this man stands as a bright,\nconsummate flower which had at last effloresced from the roots; and\nin his own person, an embodiment of the very results which God had\npatiently sought through millenniums of providential dealing and\ninspiration. Therefore in this man's arms was laid the Christ for\nwhom he had so long been waiting.\n\nAnd he exhibits, still further, what God intended to secure by the\nwhole previous processes of Revelation, in that he recognises that\nthey were transcended and done with, that all that they pointed to\nwas accomplished when a devout Israelite took into his arms the\nIncarnate Messiah, that all the past had now answered its purpose,\nand like the scaffolding when the top stone of a building is brought\nforth with shouting, might be swept away and the world be none the\npoorer. And so he rejoices in the Christ that he receives, and sings\nthe swan-song of the departing Israel, the Israel according to the\nSpirit. And that is what Judaism was meant to do, and how it was\nmeant to end, in an _euthanasia_, in a passing into the nobler\nform of the Christian Church and the Christian citizenship.\n\nI do not need to remind you how terribly unlike this ideal the\nreality was, but I may, though only in a sentence or two, point out\nthat that relation of the New to the Old is one that recurs, though\nin lees sharp and decisive forms, in every generation, and in our\ngeneration in a very special manner. It is well for the New when it\nconsents to be taken in the arms of the Old, and it is ill for the\nOld when, instead of welcoming, it frowns upon the New, and instead\nof playing the part of Simeon, and embracing and blessing the\nInfant, plays the part of a Herod, and seeks to destroy the Child\nthat seems to threaten its sovereignty. We old people who are\nconservative, if not by nature, by years, and you young people who\nare revolutionary and innovating by reason of your youth, may both\nfind a lesson in that picture in the Temple, of Simeon with the\nInfant Christ in his arms.\n\nII. Further, we have here the slave recognising and submitting to\nhis Owner.\n\nNow the word which is here employed for 'Lord' is one that very\nseldom occurs in the New Testament in reference to God; only some\nfour or five times in all. And it is the harshest and hardest word\nthat can be picked out. If you clip the Greek termination off it, it\nis the English word 'despot,' and it conveys all that that word\nconveys to us, not only a lord in the sense of a constitutional\nmonarch, not only a lord in the polite sense of a superior in\ndignity, but a despot in the sense of being the absolute owner of a\nman who has no rights against the owner, and is a slave. For the\nword 'slave' is what logicians call the correlative of this word\n'despot,' and as the latter asserts absolute ownership and\nauthority, the former declares abject submission. So Simeon takes\nthese two words to express his relation and feeling towards God.\n'Thou art the Owner, the Despot, and I am Thy slave.' That relation\nof owner and slave, wicked as it is, when subsisting between two\nmen--an atrocious crime, 'the sum of all villainies,' as the good\nold English emancipators used to call it--is the sum of all\nblessings when regarded as existing between man and God. For what\ndoes it imply? The right to command and the duty to obey, the\nsovereign will that is supreme over all, and the blessed attitude of\nyielding up one's will wholly, without reserve, without reluctance,\nto that infinitely mighty, and--blessed be God!--infinitely loving\nWill Absolute authority calls for abject submission.\n\nAnd again, the despot has the unquestioned right of life and death\nover his slave, and if he chooses, can smite him down where he\nstands, and no man have a word to say. Thus, absolutely, we hang\nupon God, and because He has the power of life and death, every\nmoment of our lives is a gift from His hands, and we should not\nsubsist for an instant unless, by continual effluence from Him, and\ninflux into us, of the life which flows from Him, the Fountain of\nlife.\n\nAgain, the slave-owner has entire possession of all the slave's\npossessions, and can take them and do what he likes with them. And\nso, all that I call mine is His. It was His before it became mine;\nit remains His whilst it is mine, because I am His, and so what\nseems to belong to me belongs to Him, no less truly. What, then, do\nyou do with your possessions? Use them for yourselves? Dispute His\nownership? Forget His claims? Grudge that He should take them away\nsometimes, and grudge still more to yield them to Him in daily\nobedience, and when necessary, surrender them? Is such a temper what\nbecomes the slave? What reason has he to grumble if the master comes\nto him and says, 'This little bit of ground that I have given you to\ngrow a few sugar-canes and melons on, I am going to take back\nagain.' What reason have we to set up our puny wills against Him, if\nHe exercises His authority over us and demands that we should regard\nourselves not only as sons but also as slaves to whom the owner of\nit and us has given a talent to be used for Him?\n\nNow, all that sounds very harsh, does it not? Let in one thought\ninto it, and it all becomes very gracious. The Apostle Peter, who\nalso once uses this word 'despot,' does so in a very remarkable\nconnection. He speaks about men's 'denying the despot that bought\nthem.' Ah, Peter! you were getting on very thin ice when you talked\nabout denial. Perhaps it was just because he remembered his sin in\nthe judgment hall that he used that word to express the very utmost\ndegree of degeneration and departure from Jesus. But be that as it\nmay, he bases the slave-owner's right on purchase. And Jesus Christ\nhas bought us by His own precious blood; and so all that sounds\nharsh in the metaphor, worked out as I have been trying to do,\nchanges its aspect when we think of the method by which He has\nacquired His rights and the purpose for which He exercises them. As\nthe Psalmist said, 'Oh, Lord! truly I am Thy slave. Thou hast loosed\nmy bonds.'\n\nIII. So, lastly, we have here the saint recognising and welcoming\nthe approach of death.\n\nNow, it is a very singular thing, but I suppose it is true, that\nsomehow or other, most people read these words, 'Lord! now lettest\nThou Thy servant depart in peace,' as being a petition; 'Lord! now\n_let_ Thy servant depart.' But they are not that at all. We\nhave here not a petition or an aspiration, but a statement of the\nfact that Simeon recognises the appointed token that his days were\ndrawing to an end, and it is the glad recognition of that fact.\n'Lord! I see now that the time has come when I may put aside all\nthis coil of weary waiting and burdened mortality, and go to rest.'\nLook how he regards approaching death. 'Thou lettest Thy servant\ndepart' is but a feeble translation of the original, which is better\ngiven in the version that has become very familiar to us all by its\nuse in a musical service, the _Nunc Dimittis_; 'Now Thou\n_dost send away_' It is the technical word for relieving a\nsentry from his post. It conveys the idea of the hour having come\nwhen the slave who has been on the watch through all the long, weary\nnight, or toiling through all the hot, dusty day, may extinguish his\nlantern, or fling down his mattock, and go home to his little hut.\n'Lord! Thou dost dismiss me now, and I take the dismission as the\nend of the long watch, as the end of the long toil.'\n\nBut notice, still further, how Simeon not only recognises, but\nwelcomes the approach of death. 'Thou lettest Thy servant depart in\npeace.' Yes, there speaks a calm voice tranquilly accepting the\npermission. He feels no agitation, no fluster of any kind, but\nquietly slips away from his post. And the reason for that peaceful\nwelcome of the end is 'for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation.' That\nsight is the reason, first of all, for his being sure that the\ncurfew had rung for him, and that the day's work was done. But it is\nalso the reason for the peacefulness of his departure. He went 'in\npeace,' because of what? Because the weary, blurred, old eyes had\nseen all that any man needs to see to be satisfied and blessed. Life\ncould yield nothing more, though its length were doubled to this old\nman, than the sight of God's salvation.\n\nCan it yield anything more to us, brethren? And may we not say, if\nwe have seen that sight, what an unbelieving author said, with a\ntouch of self-complacency not admirable, 'I have warmed both hands\nat the fire of life, and I am ready to depart.' We may go in peace,\nif our eyes have seen Him who satisfies our vision, whose bright\npresence will go with us into the darkness, and whom we shall see\nmore perfectly when we have passed from the sentry-box to the home\nabove, and have ceased to be slaves in the far-off plantation, and\nare taken to be sons in the Father's house. 'Thou lettest Thy\nservant depart in peace.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOY IN THE TEMPLE\n\n\n    'And He said unto them, How is it that ye sought Me!\n    wist ye not that I must be about My Father's business?'\n    --LUKE ii. 49.\n\nA number of spurious gospels have come down to us, which are full of\nstories, most of them absurd and some of them worse, about the\ninfancy of Jesus Christ. Their puerilities bring out more distinctly\nthe simplicity, the nobleness, the worthiness of this one solitary\nincident of His early days, which has been preserved for us. How has\nit been preserved? If you will look over the narratives there will\nbe very little difficulty, I think, in answering that question.\nObserving the prominence that is given to the parents, and how the\nstory enlarges upon what they thought and felt, we shall not have\nmuch doubt in accepting the hypothesis that it was none other than\nMary from whom Luke received such intimate details. Notice, for\ninstance, 'Joseph and His mother knew not of it.' 'They supposed Him\nto have been in the company.' 'And when they,' i.e. Joseph and Mary,\n'saw Him, they were astonished'; and then that final touch, 'He was\nsubject to them,' as if His mother would not have Luke or us think\nthat this one act of independence meant that He had shaken off\nparental authority. And is it not a mother's voice that says, 'His\nmother kept all these things in her heart,' and pondered all the\ntraits of boyhood? Now it seems to me that, in these words of the\ntwelve-year-old boy, there are two or three points full of interest\nand of teaching for us. There is--\n\nI. That consciousness of Sonship.\n\nI am not going to plunge into a subject on which certainly a great\ndeal has been very confidently affirmed, and about which the less is\ndogmatised by us, who must know next to nothing about it, the\nbetter; viz. the inter-connection of the human and the divine\nelements in the person of Jesus Christ. But the context leads us\nstraight to this thought--that there was in Jesus distinct growth in\nwisdom as well as in stature, and in favour with God and man. And\nnow, suppose the peasant boy brought up to Jerusalem, seeing it for\nthe first time, and for the first time entering the sacred courts of\nthe Temple. Remember, that to a Jewish boy, his reaching the age of\ntwelve made an epoch, because he then became 'a son of the Law,' and\ntook upon himself the religious responsibilities which had hitherto\ndevolved upon his parents. If we will take that into account, and\nremember that it was a true manhood which was growing up in the boy\nJesus, then we shall not feel it to be irreverent if we venture to\nsay, not that here and then, there began His consciousness of His\nDivine Sonship, but that that visit made an epoch and a stage in the\ndevelopment of that consciousness, just because it furthered the\ngrowth of His manhood.\n\nFurther, our Lord in these words, in the gentlest possible way, and\nyet most decisively, does what He did in all His intercourse with\nMary, so far as it is recorded for us in Scripture--relegated her\nback within limits beyond which she tended to advance. For she said,\n'Thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing,' no doubt thus\npreserving what had been the usual form of speech in the household\nfor all the previous years; and there is an emphasis that would fall\nupon her heart, as it fell upon none other, when He answered: 'Wist\nye not that I must be about My Father's business?' We are not\nwarranted in affirming that the Child meant all which the Man\nafterwards meant by the claim to be the Son of God; nor are we any\nmore warranted in denying that He did. We know too little about the\nmysteries of His growth to venture on definite statements of either\nkind. Our sounding-lines are not long enough to touch bottom in this\ngreat word from the lips of a boy of twelve; but this is clear, that\nas He grew into self-consciousness, there came with it the growing\nconsciousness of His Sonship to His Father in heaven.\n\nNow, dear brethren, whilst all that is unique, and parts Him off\nfrom us, do not let us forget that that same sense of Sonship and\nFatherhood must be the very deepest thing in us, if we are Christian\npeople after Christ's pattern. We, too, can be sons through Him, and\nonly through Him. I believe with all my heart in what we hear so\nmuch about now--'the universal Fatherhood of God.' But I believe\nthat there is also a special relation of Fatherhood and Sonship,\nwhich is constituted only, according to Scripture teaching in my\napprehension, through faith in Jesus Christ, and the reception of\nHis life as a supernatural life into our souls. God is Father of all\nmen--thank God for it! And that means, that He gives life to all\nmen; that in a very deep and precious sense the life which He gives\nto every man is not only derived from, but is kindred with, His own;\nand it means that His love reaches to all men, and that His\nauthority extends over them. But there is an inner sanctuary, there\nis a better life than the life of nature, and the Fatherhood into\nwhich Christ introduces us means, that through faith in Him, and the\nentrance into our spirits of the Spirit of adoption, we receive a\nlife derived from, and kindred with, the life of the Giver, and that\nwe are bound to Him not only by the cords of love, but to obey the\nparental authority. Sonship is the deepest thought about the\nChristian life.\n\nIt was an entirely new thought when Jesus spoke to His disciples of\ntheir Father in heaven. It was a thrilling novelty when Paul bade\nservile worshippers realise that they were no longer slaves, but\nsons, and as such, heirs of God. It was the rapture of pointing to a\nnew star flaming out, as it were, that swelled in John's\nexclamation: 'Beloved, now are we the sons of God!' For even though\nin the Old Testament there are a few occasional references to\nIsrael's King or to Israel itself as being 'God's son,' as far as I\nremember, there is only one reference in all the Old Testament to\nparental love towards each of us on the part of God, and that is the\ngreat saying in the 103rd Psalm: 'Like as a father pitieth his\nchildren, so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him.' For the most part\nthe idea connected in the Old Testament with the Fatherhood of God\nis authority: 'If I be a Father, where is Mine honour?' says the\nlast of the prophets. But when we pass into the New, on the very\nthreshold, here we get the germ, in these words, of the blessed\nthought that, as His disciples, we, too, may claim sonship to God\nthrough Him, and penetrate beyond the awe of Divine Majesty into the\nlove of our Father God. Brethren, notwithstanding all that was\nunique in the Sonship of Jesus Christ, He welcomes us to a place\nbeside Himself, and if we are the children of God by faith in Him,\nthen are we 'heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ.'\n\nNow the second thought that I would suggest from these words is--\n\nII. The sweet 'must' of filial duty.\n\n'How is it that ye sought Me?' That means: 'Did you not know where I\nshould be sure to be? What need was there to go up and down\nJerusalem looking for Me? You might have known there was only one\nplace where you would find Me. Wist ye not that I _must_ be\nabout My Father's business?' Now, the last words of this question\nare in the Greek literally, as the margin of the Revised Version\ntells us, 'in the things of My Father'; and that idiomatic form of\nspeech may either be taken to mean, as the Authorised Version does,\n'about My Father's business,' or, with the Revised Version, 'in My\nFather's house.' The latter seems the rendering most relevant in\nthis connection, where the folly of seeking is emphasised--the\ncertainty of His place is more to the point than that of His\noccupation. But the locality carried the occupation with it, for why\nmust He be in the Father's house but to be about the Father's\nbusiness, 'to behold the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in His\nTemple'?\n\nDo people know where to find us? Is it unnecessary to go hunting for\nus? Is there a place where it is certain that we shall be? It was so\nwith this child Jesus, and it should be so with all of us who\nprofess to be His followers.\n\nAll through Christ's life there runs, and occasionally there comes\ninto utterance, that sense of a divine necessity laid upon Him; and\nhere is its beginning, the very first time that the word occurs on\nHis lips, 'I must.' There is as divine and as real a necessity\nshaping our lives because it lies upon and moulds our wills, if we\nhave the child's heart, and stand in the child's position. In Jesus\nChrist the 'must' was not an external one, but He 'must be about His\nFather's business,' because His whole inclination and will were\nsubmitted to the Father's authority. And that is what will make any\nlife sweet, calm, noble. 'The love of Christ constraineth us.' There\nis a necessity which presses upon men like iron fetters; there is a\nnecessity which wells up within a man as a fountain of life, and\ndoes not so much drive as sweetly incline the will, so that it is\nimpossible for him to be other than a loving, obedient child.\n\nDear friend, have we felt the joyful grip of that necessity? Is it\nimpossible for me not to be doing God's will? Do I feel myself laid\nhold of by a strong, loving hand that propels me, not unwillingly,\nalong the path? Does inclination coincide with obligation? If it\ndoes, then no words can tell the freedom, the enlargement, the\ncalmness, the deep blessedness of such a life. But when these pull\nin two different ways, as, alas! they often do, and I have to say,\n'I must be about my Father's business, and I had rather be about my\nown if I durst,' which is the condition of a great many so-called\nChristian people--then the necessity is miserable; and slavery, not\nfreedom, is the characteristic of such Christianity. And there is a\ngreat deal of such to-day.\n\nAnd now one last word. On this sweet 'must,' and blessed compulsion\nto be about the Father's business, there follows:\n\nIII. The meek acceptance of the lowliest duties.\n\n'He went down to Nazareth, and was subject to them.' That is all\nthat is told us about eighteen years, by far the largest part of the\nearthly life of Christ. Legend comes in, and for once not\ninappropriately, and tells us, what is probably quite true, that\nduring these years, Jesus worked in the carpenter's shop, and as one\nstory says, 'made yokes,' or as another tells, made light implements\nof husbandry for the peasants round Nazareth. Be that as it may, 'He\nwas subject unto them,' and that was doing the Father's will, and\nbeing 'about the Father's business,' quite as much as when He was\namongst the doctors, and learning by asking questions as well as by\nhearkening to their instructions. Everything depends on the motive.\nThe commonest duty may be 'the Father's business,' when we are doing\nmanfully the work of daily life. Only we do not turn common duty\ninto the Father's business, unless we remember Him in the doing of\nit. But if we carry the hallowing and quickening influence of that\ngreat 'must' into all the pettinesses, and paltrinesses, and\nwearinesses, and sorrows of our daily trivial lives, then we shall\nfind, as Jesus Christ found, that the carpenter's shop is as sacred\nas the courts of the Temple, and that to obey Mary was to do the\nwill of the Father in heaven.\n\nWhat a blessed transformation that would make of all lives! The\npsalmist long ago said: 'One thing have I desired of the Lord, and\nthat will I seek after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord\nall the days of my life.' We may dwell in the house of the Lord all\nthe days of our lives. We may be in one or other of the many\nmansions of the Father's house where-ever we go, and may be doing\nthe will of the Father in heaven in all that we do. Then we shall be\nat rest; then we shall be strong; then we shall be pure; then we\nshall have deep in our hearts the joyous consciousness, undisturbed\nby rebellious wills, that now 'we are the sons of God,' and the\nstill more joyous hope, undimmed by doubts or mists, that 'it doth\nnot yet appear what we shall be'; but that wherever we go, it will\nbe but passing from one room of the great home into another more\nglorious still. 'I must be about my Father's business'; let us make\nthat the motto for earth, and He will say to us in His own good time\n'Come home from the field, and sit down beside Me in My house,' and\nso we 'shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.'\n\n\n\n\nJOHN THE PREACHER OF REPENTANCE\n\n\n    'Now, in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius\n    Cesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, and\n    Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip\n    tetrarch of Iturea and of the region of Trachonitis,\n    and Lysanias the tetrarch of Abilene, 2. Annas and\n    Caiaphas being the high priests, the word of God came\n    unto John, the son of Zacharias, in the wilderness.\n    3. And he came into all the country about Jordan,\n    preaching the baptism of repentance for the remission\n    of sins; 4. As it is written in the book of the words\n    of Esaias the prophet, saying, The voice of one crying\n    in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make\n    His paths straight. 6. Every valley shall be filled,\n    and every mountain and hill shall be brought low; and\n    the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways\n    shall be made smooth; 6. And all flesh shall see the\n    salvation of God. 7. Then said he to the multitude that\n    came forth to be baptized of him, O generation of\n    vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to\n    come! 8. Bring forth therefore fruits worthy of\n    repentance; and begin not to say within yourselves, We\n    have Abraham to our Father: for I say unto you, That\n    God is able of these stones to raise up children unto\n    Abraham. 9. And now also the axe is laid unto the root\n    of the trees: every tree therefore which bringeth not\n    forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.\n    10. And the people asked him, saying, What shall we do\n    then? 11. He answereth and saith unto them, He that\n    hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath none;\n    and he that hath meat, let him do likewise. 12. Then\n    came also publicans to be baptized, and said unto him,\n    Master, what shall we do? 13. And he said unto them,\n    Exact no more than that which is appointed you. 14. And\n    the soldiers likewise demanded of him, saying, And what\n    shall we do? And he said unto them, Do violence to no\n    man, neither accuse any falsely; and be content with\n    your wages.'--LUKE iii. 144.\n\nWhy does Luke enumerate so carefully the civil and ecclesiastical\nauthorities in verses 1 and 2? Not only to fix the date, but, in\naccordance with the world-wide aspect of his Gospel, to set his\nnarrative in relation with secular history; and, further, to focus\ninto one vivid beam of light the various facts which witnessed to\nthe sunken civil and darkened moral and religious condition of the\nJews. What more needed to be said to prove how the ancient glory had\nfaded, than that they were under the rule of such a delegate as\nPilate, of such an emperor as Tiberius, and that the bad brood of\nHerod's descendants divided the sacred land between them, and that\nthe very high-priesthood was illegally administered, so that such a\npair as Annas and Caiaphas held it in some irregular fashion between\nthem? It was clearly high time for John to come, and for the word of\nGod to come to him.\n\nThe wilderness had nourished the stern, solitary spirit of the\nBaptist, and there the consciousness of his mission and his message\n'came to him'--a phrase which at once declares his affinity with the\nold prophets. Out of the desert he burst on the nation, sudden as\nlightning, and cleaving like it. Luke says nothing as to his garb or\nfood, but goes straight to the heart of his message, 'The baptism of\nrepentance unto remission of sins,' in which expression the\n'remission' depends neither on 'baptism' alone, nor on 'repentance'\nalone. The outward act was vain if unaccompanied by the state of\nmind and will; the state of mind was proved genuine by submitting to\nthe act.\n\nIn verses 7 to 14 John's teaching as the preacher of repentance is\nsummarised. Why did he meet the crowds that streamed out to him with\nsuch vehement rebuke? One would have expected him to welcome them,\ninstead of calling them 'offspring of vipers,' and seeming to be\nunwilling that they should flee from the wrath to come. But Luke\ntells why. They wished to be baptized, but there is no word of their\nrepentance. Rather, they were trusting to their descent as exempting\nthem from the approaching storm, so that their baptism would not\nhave been the baptism which John required, being devoid of\nrepentance. Just because they thought themselves safe as being\n'children of Abraham,' they deserved John's rough name, 'ye\noffspring of vipers.'\n\nRabbinical theology has much to say about 'the merits of the\nfathers.' John, like every prophet who had ever spoken to the nation\nof judgments impending, felt that the sharp edge of his words was\nturned by the obstinate belief that judgments were for the Gentile,\nand never would touch the Jew. Do we not see the same unbelief that\nGod can ever visit England with national destruction in full force\namong ourselves?  Not the virtues of past generations, but the\nrighteousness of the present one, is the guarantee of national\nexaltation.\n\nJohn's crowds were eager to be baptized as an additional security,\nbut were slow to repent. If heaven could be secured by submitting to\na rite, 'multitudes' would come for it, but the crowd thins quickly\nwhen the administrator of the rite becomes the vehement preacher of\nrepentance. That is so to-day as truly as it was so by the fords of\nJordan. John demanded not only repentance, but its 'fruits,' for\nthere is no virtue in a repentance which does not change the life,\nwere such possible.\n\nRepentance is more than sorrow for sin. Many a man has that, and yet\nrushes again into the old mire. To change the mind and will is not\nenough, unless the change is certified to be real by deeds\ncorresponding. So John preached the true nature of repentance when\nhe called for its fruits. And he preached the greatest motive for it\nwhich he knew, when he pressed home on sluggish consciences the\nclose approach of a judgment for which everything was ready, the axe\nground to a fine edge, and lying at the root of the trees. If it lay\nthere, there was no time to lose; if it still lay, there was time to\nrepent before it was swinging round the woodman's head. We have a\nhigher motive for repentance in 'the goodness of God' leading to it.\nBut there is danger that modern Christianity should think too little\nof 'the terror of the Lord,' and so should throw away one of the\nstrongest means of persuading men. John's advice to the various\nclasses of hearers illustrates the truth that the commonest field of\nduty and the homeliest acts may become sacred. Not high-flying,\nsingular modes of life, abandoning the vulgar tasks, but the\nplainest prose of jog-trot duty will follow and attest real\nrepentance. Every calling has its temptations--that is to say, every\none has its opportunities of serving God by resisting the Devil.\n\n\n\n\nJOHN'S WITNESS TO JESUS, AND GOD'S\n\n\n    'And as the people were in expectation, and all men\n    mused in their hearts of John, whether he were the\n    Christ, or not; 16. John answered, saying unto them\n    all, I indeed baptize you with water; but one mightier\n    than I cometh, the latchet of whose shoes I am not\n    worthy to unloose: He shall baptize you with the Holy\n    Ghost, and with fire: 17. Whose fan is in His hand,\n    and He will thoroughly purge His floor, and will gather\n    the wheat into His garner; but the chaff He will burn\n    with fire unquenchable. 18. And many other things, in\n    his exhortation, preached he unto the people. 19. But\n    Herod the tetrarch, being reproved by him for Herodias\n    his brother Philip's wife, and for all the evils which\n    Herod had done, 20. Added yet this above all, that he\n    shut up John in prison. 21. Now, when all the people\n    were baptized, it came to pass, that Jesus also being\n    baptized, and praying, the heaven was opened, 22. And\n    the Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape, like a\n    dove, upon Him; and a voice came from heaven, which\n    said, Thou art My beloved Son; in Thee I am well\n    pleased.'--LUKE iii. 15-22.\n\nThis passage falls into three parts: John's witness to the coming\nMessiah (vs. 15-17); John's undaunted rebuke of sin in high places,\nand its penalty (vs. 18-20); and God's witness to Jesus (vs. 21,\n22).\n\nI. Luke sharply parts off the Baptist's work as a preacher of\nrepentance and plain morality from his work as the herald who\npreceded the king. The former is delineated in verses 7-14, and its\neffect was to set light to the always smouldering expectation of the\nMessiah. The people were ready to rally round him if he would say\nthat he was the coming deliverer. It was a real temptation, but his\nunmoved humility, which lay side by side with his boldness, brushed\nit aside, and poured an effectual stream of cold water on the\nexcitement. 'John answered' the popular questionings, of which he\nwas fully aware, and his answer crushed them.\n\nIn less acute fashion, the same temptation comes to all who move the\ngeneral conscience. Disciples always seek to hoist their teacher\nhigher than is fitting. Adherence to him takes the place of\nobedience to his message, and, if he is a true man, he has to damp\ndown misdirected enthusiasm.\n\nMark John's clear apprehension of the limitations of his work. He\nbaptized with water, the symbol and means of outward cleansing. He\ndoes not depreciate his position or the importance of his baptism,\nbut his whole soul bows in reverence before the coming Messiah,\nwhose great office was to transcend his, as the wide Mediterranean\nsurpassed the little lake of Galilee. His outline of that work is\ngrand, though incomplete. It is largely based upon Malachi's closing\nprophecy, and the connection witnesses to John's consciousness that\nhe was the Elijah foretold there. He saw that the Messiah would\nsurpass him in his special endowment. Strong as he was, that other\nwas to be stronger. Probably he did not dream that that other was to\nwield the divine might, nor that His perfect strength was to be\nmanifested in weakness, and to work its wonders by the might of\ngentle, self-sacrificing love. But, though he dimly saw, he\nperfectly adored. He felt himself unworthy (literally, insufficient)\nto be the slave who untied (or, according to Matthew, 'bore') his\nlord's sandals. How beautiful is the lowliness of that strong\nnature! He stood erect in the face of priests and tetrarchs, and\nfurious women, and the headsman with his sword, but he lay prostrate\nbefore his King.\n\nStrength and royal authority were not all that he had to proclaim of\nMessiah. 'He shall baptize you in the Holy Ghost and fire.' We\nobserve that the construction here is different from that in verse\n16 ('with water'), inasmuch as the preposition 'in' is inserted,\nwhich, though it is often used 'instrumentaly,' is here, therefore,\nmore probably to be taken as meaning simply 'in.' The two nouns are\ncoupled under one preposition, which suggests that they are fused\ntogether in the speaker's mind as reality and symbol.\n\nFire is a frequently recurrent emblem of the Holy Spirit, both in\nthe Old and New Testament. It is not the destructive, but the\nvitalising, glowing, transforming, energy of fire, which is\nexpressed. The fervour of holy enthusiasm, the warmth of ardent\nlove, the melting of hard hearts, the change of cold, damp material\ninto its own ruddy likeness, are all set forth in this great symbol.\nJohn's water baptism was poor beside Messiah's immersion into that\ncleansing fire. Fire turns what it touches into kindred flame. The\nrefiner's fire melts metal, and the scum carries away impurities.\nWater washes the surface, fire pierces to the centre.\n\nBut while that cleansing by the Spirit's fire was to be Messiah's\nprimary office, man's freedom to accept or reject such blessing\nnecessarily made His work selective, even while its destination was\nuniversal. So John saw that His coming would part men into two\nclasses, according as they submitted to His baptism of fire or not.\nThe homely image of the threshing-floor, on some exposed, windy\nheight, carries a solemn truth. The Lord of the harvest has an\ninstrument in His hand, which sets up a current of air, and the\nwheat falls in one heap, while the husks are blown farther, and lie\nat the edge of the floor. Mark the majestic emphasis on the Christ's\nownership in the two phrases, '_His_ floor' and '_His_ garner.'\n\nNotice, too, the fact which determines whether a man is chaff or\nwheat--namely, his yielding to or rejecting the fiery baptism which\nChrist offers. Ponder that awful emblem of an empty, rootless,\nfruitless, worthless life, which John caught up from Psalm I.\nThankfully think of the care and safe keeping and calm repose\nshadowed in that picture of the wheat stored in the garner after the\nseparating act. And let us lay on awed hearts the terrible doom of\nthe chaff. There are two fires, to one or other of which we must be\ndelivered. Either we shall gladly accept the purging fire of the\nSpirit which burns sin out of us, or we shall have to meet the\npunitive fire which burns up us and our sins together. To be\ncleansed by the one or to be consumed by the other is the choice\nbefore each of us.\n\nII. Verses 18-20 show John as the preacher and martyr of\nrighteousness. Luke tells his fate out of its proper place, in order\nto finish with him, and, as it were, clear the stage for Jesus.\nSimilarly the Baptist's desert life is told by anticipation in\nchapter i. 80. That treatment of his story marks his subordination.\nHis martyrdom is not narrated by Luke, though he knew of it (Luke\nix. 7-9), and this brief summary is all that is said of his heroic\nvehemence of rebuke to sin in high places, and of his suffering for\nrighteousness' sake. John's message had two sides to it, as every\ngospel of God's has. To the people he spoke good tidings and\nexhortations; to lordly sinners he pealed out stern rebukes.\n\nIt needs some courage to tell a prince to his face that he is foul\nwith corruption, and, still more, to put a finger on his actual\nsins. But he is no prophet who does not lift up his voice like a\ntrumpet, and speak to hardened consciences. King Demos is quite as\nimpatient of close dealing with his immorality as Herod was. London\nand New York get as angry with the Christian men who fight against\ntheir lust and drunkenness as ever he did, and would not be sorry if\nthey could silence these persistent 'fanatics' as conveniently as he\ncould. The need for courage like John's, and plain speech like his,\nis not past yet. The 'good tidings' has rebuke as part of its\nsubstance. The sword is two-edged.\n\nIII. The narrative now turns to Jesus, and does not even name John\nas having baptized Him. The peculiarities of Luke's account of the\nbaptism are instructive. He omits the conversation between Jesus and\nJohn, and the fact of John's seeing the dove and hearing the voice.\nLike Mark, he makes the divine voice speak directly to Jesus,\nwhereas Matthew represents it as spoken _concerning_ Him. The\nbaptism itself is disposed of in an incidental clause (_having\nbeen baptized_). The general result of these characteristics is\nthat this account lays emphasis on the bearing of the divine witness\nas borne to Jesus Himself. It does not deny, but simply ignores, its\naspect as a witness borne to John.\n\nAnother striking point is Luke's mention of Christ's prayer, which\nis thus represented as answered by the opened heavens, the\ndescending dove, and the attesting voice. We owe most of our\nknowledge of Christ's prayers to this Evangelist, whose mission was\nto tell of the Son of man. Mysteries beyond our plummets are\ncontained in this story; but however unique it is, it has this which\nmay be reproduced, that prayer unveiled heaven, and brought down the\ndove to abide on the bowed head, and the divine attestation of\nsonship to fill the waiting heart.\n\nWe need not dwell on the beautiful significance of the emblem of the\ndove. It symbolised both the nature of that gracious, gentle Spirit,\nand the perpetuity and completeness of its abode on Jesus. Others\nreceive portions of that celestial fullness, but itself, as if\nembodied in visible form, settled down on Him, and, with meekly\nfolded wings, tarried there unscared. 'God giveth not the Spirit by\nmeasure unto Him.'\n\nOur Evangelist does not venture into the deep waters, nor attempt to\ntell what was the relation between the Incarnate Word, as it dwelt\nin Jesus before that descent, and the Spirit which came upon Him. We\nshall be wise if we refrain from speculating on such points, and\ncontent ourselves with knowing that there has been one manhood\ncapable of receiving and retaining uninterruptedly the whole Spirit\nof God; and that He will fill us with the Spirit which dwelt in Him,\nin measure and manner corresponding to our need and our faith.\n\nThe heavenly voice spoke to the heart of the man Jesus. What was His\nneed of it, and what were its effects on Him, we do not presume to\naffirm. But probably it originated an increased certitude of the\nconsciousness which dawned, in His answer to Mary, of His unique\ndivine sonship. To us it declares that He stands in an altogether\nunexampled relation of kindred to the Father, and that His whole\nnature and acts are the objects of God's complacency. But He has\nnothing for Himself alone, and in Him we may become God's beloved\nsons, well pleasing to the Father.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TEMPTATION\n\n\n    4 And Jesus, being full of the Holy Ghost, returned\n    from Jordan, and was led by the Spirit into the\n    wilderness, 2. Being forty days tempted of the devil.\n    And in those days He did eat nothing: and when they\n    were ended, He afterward hungered. 3. And the devil\n    said unto Him, If Thou be the Son of God, command this\n    stone that it be made bread, 4. And Jesus answered him,\n    saying, It is written, That man shall not live by\n    bread alone, but by every word of God. 5. And the\n    devil, taking Him up into an high mountain, showed\n    unto Him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of\n    time. 6. And the devil said unto Him, All this power\n    will I give Thee, and the glory of them: for that is\n    delivered unto me; and to whomsoever I will I give it.\n    7. If Thou therefore wilt worship me, all shall be\n    Thine. 8. And Jesus answered and said unto him, Get\n    thee behind Me, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt\n    worship the Lord thy God, and Him only shalt thou\n    serve. 9. And he brought Him to Jerusalem and set Him\n    on a pinnacle of the temple, and said unto Him, If\n    Thou be the Son of God, cast Thyself down from hence:\n    10. For it is written, He shall give His angels charge\n    over Thee, to keep Thee; 11. And in their hands they\n    shall bear Thee up, lest at any time Thou dash Thy\n    foot against a stone. 12. And Jesus answering, said\n    unto Him, It is said, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord\n    Thy God. 13. And when the devil had ended all the\n    temptation, he departed from Him for a season.'\n    --LUKE iv. 1-13.\n\nIf we adopt the Revised Version's reading and rendering, the whole\nof the forty days in the desert were one long assault of Jesus by\nSatan, during which the consciousness of bodily needs was suspended\nby the intensity of spiritual conflict. Exhaustion followed this\nterrible tension, and the enemy chose that moment of physical\nweakness to bring up his strongest battalions. What a contrast these\ndays made with the hour of the baptism! And yet both the opened\nheavens and the grim fight were needful parts of Christ's\npreparation. As true man, He could be truly tempted; as perfect man,\nsuggestions of evil could not arise within, but must be presented\nfrom without. He must know our temptations if He is to help us in\nthem, and He must 'first bind the strong man' if He is afterwards\n'to spoil his house.' It is useless to discuss whether the tempter\nappeared in visible form, or carried Jesus from place to place. The\npresence and voice were real, though probably if any eye had looked\non, nothing would have been seen but the solitary Jesus, sitting\nstill in the wilderness.\n\nI. The first temptation is that of the Son of man tempted to\ndistrust God. Long experience had taught the tempter that his most\ntaking baits were those which appealed to the appetites and needs of\nthe body, and so he tries these first. The run of men are drawn to\nsin by some form or other of these, and the hunger of Jesus laid Him\nopen to their power--if not on the side of delights of sense, yet on\nthe side of wants. The tempter quotes the divine voice at the\nbaptism with almost a sneer, as if the hungry, fainting Man before\nhim were a strange 'Son of God.' The suggestion sounds innocent\nenough; for there would have been no necessary harm in working a\nmiracle to feed Himself. But its evil is betrayed by the words, 'If\nThou art the Son of God,' and the answer of our Lord, which begins\nemphatically with 'man,' puts us on the right track to understand\nwhy He repelled the insidious proposal even while He was faint with\nhunger. To yield to it would have been to shake off for His own sake\nthe human conditions which He had taken for our sakes, and to seek\nto cease to be Son of man in acting as Son of God. He takes no\nnotice of the title given by Satan, but falls back on His\nbrotherhood with man, and accepts the laws under which they live as\nHis conditions.\n\nThe quotation from Deuteronomy, which Luke gives in a less complete\nform than Matthew, implies, even in that incomplete form, that bread\nis not the only means of keeping a man in life, but that God can\nfeed Him, as He did Israel in its desert life, with manna; or, if\nmanna fails, by the bare exercise of His divine will. Therefore\nJesus will not use His power as Son of God, because to do so would\nat once take Him out of His fellowship with man, and would betray\nHis distrust of God's power to feed Him there in the desert. How\nsoon His confidence was vindicated Matthew tells us. As soon as the\ndevil departed from Him, 'angels came and ministered unto Him.' The\nsoft rush of their wings brought solace to His spirit, wearied with\nstruggle, and once again 'man did eat angels' food.'\n\nThis first temptation teaches us much. It makes the manhood of our\nLord pathetically true, as showing Him bearing the prosaic but\nterrible pinch of hunger, carried almost to its fatal point. It\nteaches us how innocent and necessary wants may be the devil's\nlevers to overturn our souls. It warns us against severing ourselves\nfrom our fellows by the use of distinctive powers for our own\nbehoof. It sets forth humble reliance on God's sustaining will as\nbest for us, even if we are in the desert, where, according to\nsense, we must starve; and it magnifies the Brother's love, who for\nour sakes waived the prerogatives of the Son of God, that He might\nbe the brother of the poor and needy.\n\nII. The second temptation is that of the Messiah, tempted to grasp\nHis dominion by false means. The devil finds that he must try a\nsubtler way. Foiled on the side of the physical nature, he begins to\napprehend that he has to deal with One loftier than the mass of men;\nand so he brings out the glittering bait, which catches the more\nfinely organised natures. Where sense fails, ambition may succeed.\nThere is nothing said now about 'Son of God.' The relation of Jesus\nto God is not now the point of attack, but His hoped--for relation\nto the world. Did Satan actually transport the body of Jesus to some\neminence? Probably not. It would not have made the vision of all the\nkingdoms any more natural if he had. The remarkable language 'showed\n... all ... in a moment of time' describes a physical impossibility,\nand most likely is meant to indicate some sort of diabolic\nphantasmagoria, flashed before Christ's consciousness, while His\neyes were fixed on the silent, sandy waste.\n\nThere is much in Scripture that seems to bear out the boast that the\nkingdoms are at Satan's disposal. But he is 'the father of lies' as\nwell as the 'prince of this world,' and we may be very sure that his\nauthority loses nothing in his telling. If we think how many thrones\nhave been built on violence and sustained by crime, how seldom in\nthe world's history the right has been uppermost, and how little of\nthe fear of God goes to the organisation of society, even to-day, in\nso-called Christian countries, we shall be ready to feel that in\nthis boast the devil told more truth than we like to believe. Note\nthat he acknowledges that the power has been 'given,' and on the\nfact of the delegation of it rests the temptation to worship. He\nknew that Jesus looked forward to becoming the world's King, and he\noffers easy terms of winning the dignity. Very cunning he thought\nhimself, but he had made one mistake. He did not know what kind of\nkingdom Jesus wished to establish. If it had been one of the bad old\npattern, like Nebuchadnezzar's or Caesar's, his offer would have\nbeen tempting, but it had no bearing on One who meant to reign by\nlove, and to win love by loving to the death.\n\nWorshipping the devil could only help to set up a devil's kingdom.\nJesus wanted nothing of the 'glory' which had been 'given' him. His\nanswer, again taken from Deuteronomy, is His declaration that His\nkingdom is a kingdom of obedience, and that He will only reign as\nGod's representative. It defines His own position and the genius of\nHis dominion. It would come to the tempter's ears as the broken law,\nwhich makes his misery and turns all his 'glory' into ashes. This is\nour Lord's decisive choice, at the outset of His public work, of the\npath of suffering and death. He renounces all aid from such arts and\nmethods as have built up the kingdoms of earth, and presents Himself\nas the antagonist of Satan and his dominion. Henceforth it is war to\nthe knife.\n\nFor us the lessons are plain. We have to learn what sort of kingdom\nJesus sets up. We have to beware, in our own little lives, of ever\nseeking to accomplish good things by questionable means, of trying\nto carry on Christ's work with the devil's weapons. When churches\nlower the standard of Christian morality, because keeping it up\nwould alienate wealthy or powerful men, when they wink hard at sin\nwhich pays, when they enlist envy, jealousy, emulation of the baser\nsort in the service of religious movements, are they not worshipping\nSatan? And will not their gains be such as he can give, and not such\nas Christ's kingdom grows by? Let us learn, too, to adore and be\nthankful for the calm and fixed decisiveness with which Jesus chose\nfrom the beginning, and trod until the end, with bleeding but\nunreluctant feet, the path of suffering on His road to His throne.\n\nIII. The third temptation tempts the worshipping Son to tempt God.\nLuke arranges the temptations partly from a consideration of\nlocality, the desert and the mountain being near each other, and\npartly in order to bring out a certain sequence in them. First comes\nthe appeal to the physical nature, then that to the finer desires of\nthe mind; and these having been repelled, and the resolve to worship\nGod having been spoken by Jesus, Luke's third temptation is\naddressed to the devout soul, as it looks to the cunning but shallow\neyes of the tempter. Matthew, on the other hand, in accordance with\nhis point of view, puts the specially Messianic temptation last. The\nactual order is as undiscoverable as unimportant. In Luke's order\nthere is substantially but one change of place--from the solitude of\nthe wilderness to the Temple. As we have said, the change was\nprobably not one of the Lord's body, but only of the scenes flashed\nbefore His mind's eye. 'The pinnacle of the Temple' may have been\nthe summit that looked down into the deep valley where the enormous\nstones of the lofty wall still stand, and which must have been at a\ndizzy height above the narrow glen on the one side and the Temple\ncourts on the other. There is immense, suppressed rage and malignity\nin the recurrence of the sneer, 'If Thou art the Son of God' and in\nthe use of Christ's own weapon of defence, the quotation of\nScripture.\n\nWhat was wrong in the act suggested? There is no reference to the\neffect on the beholders, as has often been supposed; and if we are\ncorrect in supposing that the whole temptation was transacted in the\ndesert, there could be none. But plainly the point of it was the\nsuggestion that Jesus should, of His own accord and needlessly, put\nHimself in danger, expecting God to deliver Him. It looked like\ndevout confidence; it was really 'tempting God'. It looked like the\nvery perfection of the trust with which, in the first round of this\nduel, Christ had conquered; it was really distrust, as putting God\nto proof whether He would keep His promises or no. It looked like\nthe very perfection of that worship with which He had overcome in\nthe second round of the fight; it wag really self-will in the mask\nof devoutness. It tempted God, because it sought to draw Him to\nfulfil to a man on self-chosen paths His promises to those who walk\nin ways which He has appointed.\n\nWe trust God when we look to Him to deliver us in perils met in meek\nacceptance of His will. We tempt Him when we expect Him to save us\nfrom those encountered on roads that we have picked oat for\nourselves. Such presumption disguised as filial trust is the\ntemptation besetting the higher regions of experience, to which the\nfumes of animal passions and the less gross but more dangerous airs\nfrom the desires of the mind do not ascend. Religious men who have\nconquered these have still this foe to meet. Spiritual pride, the\nbelief that we may venture into dangers either to our natural or to\nour religious life, where no call of duty takes us, the thrusting\nourselves, unbidden, into circumstances where nothing but a miracle\ncan save us-these are the snares which Satan lays for souls that\nhave broken his coarser nets. The three answers with which Jesus\novercame are the mottoes by which we shall conquer. Trust God, by\nwhose will we live. Worship God, in whose service we get all of this\nworld that is good for us. Tempt not God, whose angels keep us in\nour ways, when they are His ways, and who reckons trust that is not\nsubmission to His ways to be tempting God, and not trusting Him.\n\n'All the temptation' was ended. So these three made\na complete whole, and the quiver of the enemy was for\nthe time empty. He departed 'for a season,' or rather,\nuntil an opportunity. He was foiled when he tried\nto tempt by addressing desires. His next assault will\nbe at Gethsemane and Calvary, when dread and the\nshrinking from pain and death will be assailed as\nvainly.\n\n\n\n\nPREACHING AT NAZARETH\n\n\n    'And He began to say unto them, This day is this\n    scripture fulfilled In your ears.'--LUKE iv. 21.\n\nThis first appearance of our Lord, in His public work at Nazareth,\nthe home of His childhood, was preceded, as we learn from John's\nGospel, by a somewhat extended ministry in Jerusalem. In the course\nof it, He cast the money-changers out of the Temple, did many\nmiracles, had His conversation with Nicodemus, and on His return\ntowards Galilee met the woman of Samaria at the well. The report of\nthese things, no doubt, had preceded Him, and kindled the Nazarenes'\ncuriosity to see their old companion who had suddenly shot up into a\nperson of importance, and had even made a sensation in the\nmetropolis. A great man's neighbours are keen critics of, and slow\nbelievers in, his greatness. So it was natural and very prudent that\nJesus should not begin His ministry in Nazareth.\n\nWe can easily imagine the scene that morning in the little village,\nnestling among the hills. How many memories would occupy Christ as\nHe entered the synagogue, where He had so often sat a silent\nworshipper! How Mary's eyes would fill with tears if she was there,\nand how the companions of His boyhood, who used to play with Him,\nwould watch Him; all curious, some sympathetic, some jealous, some\ncontemptuous!\n\nThe synagogue service began with prayer and praise. Then followed\ntwo readings, one from the Law, one from the Prophets. When the\nlatter point was reached, in accordance with usage, Jesus rose,\nthereby signifying His desire to be reader of the Prophetic portion.\nWe can understand how there would be a movement of quickened\nattention as the roll was handed to Him and He turned its sheets. He\n'found the place'; that looks as if He sought for it; that is to\nsay, that it was not the appointed lesson for the day--if there was\nsuch--but that it was a passage selected by Himself.\n\nI need not enter upon the divergences between Luke's quotation as\ngiven in our English version and the Hebrew. They are partly due to\nthe fact that he is quoting from memory the Greek version of the\nLXX. He inserts, for instance, one clause which is not found in that\nplace in Isaiah, but in another part of the same prophet. Having\nread standing, as was the usage, in token of reverence for the\nScripture, Jesus resumed His seat, not as having finished, but, as\nwas the usage, taking the attitude of the teacher, which signified\nauthority. And then, His very first sentence was the most unlimited\nassertion that the great words which He had been reading had reached\ntheir full accomplishment in Himself. They are very familiar to our\nears. If we would understand their startling audacity we must listen\nto them with the ears of the Nazarenes, who had known Him ever since\nHe was a child. 'This day is this Scripture fulfilled in your ears.'\nNow, it seems to me that this first sermon of our Lord's to His old\nfellow-townsmen brings into striking prominence some characteristics\nof His whole teaching, to which I desire briefly to direct\nattention.\n\nI. I note Christ's self-assertion.\n\nTo begin in Nazareth with such words as these in my text was\nstartling enough, but it is in full accord with the whole tone of\nour Lord's teaching. If you will carefully search for the most\nessential characteristics and outstanding differentia of the words\nof Jesus Christ, even if you make all allowance that some make\nfor the non-historical character of the Gospels, you have this left\nas the residuum, that the impression which He made upon the men that\nwere nearest to Him, and that caught up most fully the spirit of His\nteaching, was that the great thing that differentiated it from all\nother was His unhesitating persistence in pushing into the very\nforefront, His testimony about Himself. I do not think that there is\nanything parallel to that anywhere else amongst the men whom the\nworld recognises as being great religious geniuses or great moral\nteachers. What characterises as perfectly unique our Lord's teaching\nis not only the blessed things that He said about God or the deep\ntruths that He said about men and their duty, or the sad things that\nHe said about men and their destiny, or the radiant hopes that He\nunveiled as to men and their possibility, but what He said about\nHimself. His message was not so much 'Believe in God and do right,'\nas it was 'Believe in Me and follow Me.'\n\nI need only point you to the Sermon on the Mount, which is popularly\nsupposed to contain very little of Christ's reference to Himself, and to\nremind you how there, in that authoritative proclamation of the laws of\nthe new kingdom, He calmly puts His own utterances as co-ordinate\nwith--nay! as superior to--the utterances of the ancient law, and sweeps\naside Moses--though recognising Moses' divine mission--with an 'I say\nunto you.' I need only remind you, further, how, at the end of that\n'compendium of reasonable morality,' He lays down this principle--that\nthese sayings of 'Mine' are a rock-foundation, on which whoever builds\nshall never be put to confusion. This is but a specimen of the golden\nthread, if I may call it so, of self-assertion which runs through the\nwhole of our Lord's teaching.\n\nNow, I venture to say that this undeniable characteristic is only\nwarranted on the supposition that He is the Son of God, and His work\nthe salvation of the world. If He is so, if 'He that hath seen Me\nhath seen the Father,' if the revelation of Himself which He makes\nis the Revelation of God, if His death is for the life of the world;\nand if, when we honour Him, we honour God; when we trust Him, we\ntrust God; when we obey Him we obey God; then I can understand His\npersistent self-assertion. But otherwise does He not deliberately\nintercept emotions which are only rightly directed to God? Does He\nnot claim prerogatives, such as forgiveness of sins, bestowal of\nlife, answering of prayer, which are only possessed by the Divine\nBeing?\n\nI know that many who will not go with me in my intellectual\nformularising of the truth about Christ's nature do bow to Him with\nunfeigned reverence. But it seems to me, I humbly confess, that\nthere is no logical basis for such reverence except the full-toned\nrecognition that the mystery of His self-assertion is explained by\nthe mystery of His nature, God manifest in the flesh. I, for my\npart, do not see how the moral perfectness of Jesus Christ is to be\nsaved, in view of that unmistakable strand in His teaching, unless\nby such admission. Rather, I feel that the recognition of it brings\nus face to face with the tremendous alternative, and that the people\nwho were moved to indignation by His self-assertion because they\nrecognised not His divine origin, and said 'This man blasphemeth';\n'This deceiver said,' have more to say in defence of their\nconclusion than those who bow before Him with reverence, and declare\nHim to be the pattern of all human perfectness, and yet falter when\nthey are asked to join in the great confession, 'Thou are the\nChrist, the Son of the living God.'\n\nII. Secondly, note here our Lord's sad conception of humanity.\n\nThere are, as it were, two strands running through the prophetic\npassage which He quotes, one in reference to Himself, one in\nreference to those whom He came to help. To the latter I now turn,\nto get our Lord's point of view when He looked upon the facts of\nhuman life.\n\nNo man will ever do much for the world whose ears have not been\nopened to hear its sad music. An inadequate conception of its\nmiseries is sure to lead to inadequate prescriptions for their\nremedy. We must bear upon our own hearts the burdens that we seek to\nlift off our brothers' shoulders. There is nothing about the\nMaster's words concerning mankind more pathetic and more plain than\nthe sad, stern, and yet pitying view which He always took concerning\nthem and their condition.\n\nIn the passage on which Jesus based His claims, as given by Luke,\none of the clauses is probably not in this place genuine, for 'the\nhealing of the brokenhearted' should be struck out of the true text.\nThere are then four symbols employed: the poor, the captives, the\nblind, the bruised. And these four are representations of the result\nof one fell cause, and that is--sin.\n\nSin impoverishes. Our true wealth is God. No man that possesses Him,\nby love, and trust, and conformity of will and effort to His\ndiscerned will, is poor, whatever else he has, whatever else he\nlacks. And no man who has lost this one durable treasure, the loving\ncommunion with, and possession of, God, in mind and heart and will\nand effort, but is a pauper whatever else he possesses. Wherever a\nman has sold himself to his own will, and has made himself and his\nown inclinations and misread good his centre and his aim, which is\nthe definition of sin, there bankruptcy and poverty have come.\nThieves sometimes beset travellers from the gold mines, as they are\nbringing down their dust or their nuggets to market, and empty the\npockets of the gold, and fill them up with sand. That is what sin\ndoes for us; it takes away our true treasure, and befools us by\ngiving us what seems to be solid till we come to open the bag; and\nthen there is no power in it to buy anything for us. 'Why will ye\nspend your labour for that which satisfieth not?' The one poverty is\nthe impoverishment that lays hold of every soul that wrenches\nitself, in self-will, apart from God. Sin makes poor.\n\nSin not only impoverishes, but imprisons 'the captives.' Ah! you\nhave only to think of your own experience to find out what that\nmeans. Is there nothing in the set of your affections, in the\nmastery that your passion has over you, in the habits of your lives,\nwhich you know as well as God knows it, to be wrong and ruinous, and\nof which you have tried to get rid? I know the answer, and every one\nof us, if we will look into our own hearts, knows it: we are 'tied\nand bound by the chains of our sin.' You do not need to go to\ninebriate homes, where there are people that would cut their right\nhands off if they could get rid of the craving, and cannot, to find\ninstances of this bondage. We have only to be honest with ourselves,\nand to try to pull the boat against the stream instead of letting it\ndrift with it, to know the force with which the current runs. A tiny\nthread like a spider's draws after it a bit of cotton a little\nthicker, and knotted to that there is a piece of pack-thread, and\nafter that a two-stranded cord, and then a cable that might hold an\nironclad at anchor. That is a parable of how we draw to ourselves,\nby imperceptible degrees, an ever-thickening set of manacles that\nbind our wills and make us the servants of sin. 'His slaves ye are\nwhom ye obey.' Sin imprisons. That is, your sin--do not let us\nbefool ourselves with abstractions--_your_ sin imprisons you.\n\nSin blinds. Wherever there comes over a soul the mist of self-will\nand self-regard, sight fails; and all the greatest things are\nblurred and blotted. The man that is immersed in his own evil is\nlike one plunged in the ocean. The cold, salt waters are about him,\nand above him; and to him the glories of the sky, and the brightness\nof the sun, the tenderness of the colouring, are all blotted out. He\nwho goes through life as some of us do, never seeing God, never\nseeing the loftiest beauty of goodness, never beholding with any\nclearness of vision the radiant possibilities of the future and its\nawful threatenings, may indeed see the things an inch from the point\nof his nose; but he is blind and cannot see afar off, and can only\nbehold, and that darkly, the insignificances that are around him.\nSin blinds.\n\nAnd sin bruises. It takes all the health out of us, and makes us,\nfrom the sole of the foot to the crown of the head, masses of\n'wounds and bruises and putrifying sores.'\n\nThe enchantress having worked all this havoc, then gives us a cup of\nillusion which, when we drink, we know not that there is anything\nthe matter with us. We are like a lunatic in a cell, who thinks\nhimself a prince in a palace, and though living on porridge and\nmilk, fancies that he is partaking of all the dainties of a\nluxurious table. The deceitfulness of sin is not the least of its\ntragical consequences.\n\nIII. Lastly, we have here our Lord's conception of Himself and of\nHis own work.\n\nYour time will not allow of my dwelling upon this as I would fain\nhave done, but let me point out one or two of the salient features\nof this initial programme of His. He claims to be the theme and the\nfulfilment of prophecy. Now, whatever influences modern notions\nabout the genesis of the Old Testament, and the characteristics of\nits prophetic utterances may have done, they have not touched, and\nthey never will touch, this one central characteristic of all that\nold system, that embedded in it there was an onward-looking gaze,\nanticipatory of a higher fulfilment and a further development of all\nthat it taught. To those of us to whom Christ's words are the end of\nall strife I need only point out that, here, He endorses the belief\nthat prophetic utterances, however they may have had, and did have,\na lower and immediate meaning, were only realised in the whole sweep\nand significance in Himself. So He presents Himself before His\nacquaintances in the little synagogue at Nazareth, and before the\nwhole world to all time, as the centre-point and pivot on which the\nhistory of the world, so to speak, revolves; all that was before\nconverging to Him, all that was after flowing down from Him. 'They\nthat went before, and they that followed after, cried, Hosanna!\nblessed be He that cometh in the name of the Lord.'\n\nHe claims to possess the whole fullness of the divine Spirit: 'The\nSpirit of the Lord is upon Me.' That is a reminiscence, no doubt, of\nthe experience by the fords of the Jordan, at the Baptism. But it\nalso opens up a wondrous consciousness, on His part, of a complete\nand uninterrupted possession of the divine life in all its fullness,\nwhich involves an entire separation from the miseries and needs of\nmen. He claims to be the Messiah of the Old Covenant, with all the\nfullness of meaning, and loftiness of dignity which clustered round\nthat word and that thought. He claims not only to proclaim, but to\nbestow, the blessings of which He speaks. For He not only comes to\n'preach good tidings to the poor,' but 'to heal the broken-hearted,'\nand 'to set at liberty all them that are bound.' He is the Gospel\nwhich He utters. He not merely proclaims the favour of heaven, but\nHe brings 'the acceptable year of the Lord.'\n\nThis, in barest outline--which is all that your time will admit--is\nthe summary of what Jesus Christ, in that first sermon in the\nsynagogue at Nazareth, asserted Himself to be.\n\nHe does not detail the means by which He is about to bring the\ngolden year, the year of Jubilee, 'the acceptable year of the Lord.'\nBut I venture to say that it is hard to find, in the life of Jesus\nChrist, that which fulfils Christ's own programme, as thus\nannounced, unless you bring in His death on the Cross for the\nabolition of sin, His Resurrection for the abolition of death; His\nreign in glory for the bestowment on all sinful and bruised souls of\nthe Spirit of healing and of righteousness.\n\nThese Nazarenes listened. Their hearts and consciences attested the\nmagnetic power of His personality, and the truth of His word. So do\nthe hearts and consciences of most of us. They wondered at the 'words\nof grace'--whose matter was grace, whose manner was gracious--that\nproceeded from His mouth. So do most of us. But they let the incipient\nmovement of their hearts be arrested by the cold, carping question,\n'Is not this Joseph's son?' and all the enthusiasm chilled into\nindifference; 'indignation' followed, and some of those who had\nalmost been drawn to Him, in an hour's time had their hands on His\nrobe, to cast Him from the brow of the hill on which their village\nwas built. Every man who comes to the point of feeling some emotions\ntowards Christ as his Redeemer, as his King, is at a fork of the\nroad. He may either take to the right, which will lead him to full\ncommunion and acceptance; or he may go to the left, which will carry\nhim away out into the desert. The critical hour in the alchemist's\nlaboratory was when the lead in his crucible began to melt. If a\ncold current got at it, it resumed its dead solidity, and no gold\ncould be made.\n\nBrother! do not let the world's cold currents get at your heart and\nfreeze it again, if you feel that in any measure it is beginning to\nmelt into penitence, and to flow with faith. The same voice that in\nthe synagogue of Nazareth said, 'He hath anointed Me to preach the\nGospel to the poor' speaks to us to-day from heaven, saying, 'I\ncounsel thee to buy of Me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest\nbe rich ... and anoint thine eyes with eyesalve that thou mayest\nsee.'\n\n\n***\n\nA SABBATH IN CAPERNAUM\n\n\n    'And in the synagogue there was a man which had a\n    spirit of an unclean devil, and cried out with a loud\n    voice, 34. Saying, Let us alone; what have we to do\n    with Thee, thou Jesus of Nazareth? art Thou come to\n    destroy us? I know Thee who Thou art; the Holy One of\n    God. 35. And Jesus rebuked him, saying, Hold thy\n    peace, and come out of him. And when the devil had\n    thrown him in the midst, he came out of him, and hurt\n    him not. 36. And they were all amazed, and spake among\n    themselves, saying, What a word is this! for with\n    authority and power He commandeth the unclean spirits,\n    and they come out. 37. And the fame of Him went out\n    into every place of the country round about. 38. And\n    He arose out of the synagogue, and entered into\n    Simon's house: and Simon's wife's mother was taken\n    with a great fever; and they besought Him for her.\n    39. And He stood over her, and rebuked the fever; and\n    it left her: and immediately she arose and ministered\n    unto them. 40. Now, when the sun was setting, all they\n    that had any sick with divers diseases brought them\n    unto Him; and He laid His hands on every one of them,\n    and healed them. 41. And devils also came out of many,\n    crying out, and saying, Thou art Christ, the Son of\n    God. And He, rebuking them, suffered them not to speak:\n    for they knew that He was Christ. 42. And when it was\n    day, He departed, and went into a desert place; and the\n    people sought Him, and came unto Him, and stayed Him,\n    that He should not depart from them. 43. And He said\n    unto them, I must preach the kingdom of God to other\n    cities also: for therefore am I sent. 44. And He\n    preached in the synagogues of Galilee.'--LUKE iv.33-44.\n\nThere are seven references to Christ's preaching in the synagogues\nin this chapter, and only two in the rest of this Gospel. Probably\nour Lord somewhat changed His method, and Luke, as the Evangelist of\nthe gospel for Gentile as well as Jew, emphasises the change, as\nforeshadowing and warranting the similar procedure in Paul's\npreaching. This lesson takes us down from the synagogue at Nazareth,\namong its hills, to that at Capernaum, on the lakeside, where Jesus\nwas already known as a worker of miracles. The two Sabbaths are in\nsharp contrast. The issue of the one is a tumult of fury and hate;\nthat of the other, a crowd of suppliants and an eager desire to keep\nHim with them. The story is in four paragraphs, each showing a new\nphase of Christ's power and pity.\n\nI. Verses 33-37 present Christ as the Lord of that dark world of\nevil. The hushed silence of the synagogue, listening to His gentle\nvoice, was suddenly broken by shrieks of rage and fear, coming from\na man who had been sitting quietly among the others. Possibly his\ncondition had not been suspected until Christ's presence roused his\ndreadful tyrant. The man's voice is at the demon's service, and only\nJesus recognises who speaks through the wretched victim. We take for\ngranted the reality of demoniacal possession, as certified for all\nwho believe Jesus, by His words and acts in reference to it, as well\nas forced on us, by the phenomena themselves, which are clearly\ndistinguishable from disease, madness, or sin. The modern aversion\nto the supernatural is quite as much an unreasonable prejudice as\nany old woman's belief in witchcraft  and Professor Huxley, making\nclumsy fun of the 'pigs at Gadara,' is holding opinions in the same\nsublime indifference  to evidence of facts as the most superstitious\nobject of his narrow-visioned scorn.\n\nNapoleon called 'impossible' a 'beast of a word.' So it is in\npractical life,--and no less so when glibly used to discredit\nwell-attested facts. We neither aspire to the omniscience which\npronounces that there can be no possession by evil spirits, nor\nventure to brush aside the testimony of the Gospels and the words of\nChrist, in order to make out such a contention.\n\nNote the rage and terror of the demon. The presence  of purity is a\nsharp pain to impurity, and an evil spirit is stirred to its depths\nwhen in contact with Jesus. Monstrous growths that love the dark\nshrivel and die in sunshine. The same presence which is joy to some\nmay be a very hell to others. We may approach even here that state\nof feeling which broke out in these shrieks of malignity, hatred,\nand dread. It is an awful thing when the only relief is to get away\nfrom Jesus, and when the clearest recognition of His holiness only\nmakes us the more eager to disclaim any connection with Him. That is\nthe hell of hells. In its completeness, it makes the anguish of the\ndemon; in its rudiments, it is the misery of some men.\n\nObserve too, the unclean spirit's knowledge, not only of the\nbirthplace and name, but of the character and divine relationship of\nJesus. That is one of the features of demoniacal possession which\ndistinguish it from disease or insanity, and is quite incapable of\nexplanation on any other ground. It gives a glimpse into a dim\nregion, and suggests that the counsels of Heaven, as effected on\nearth, are keenly watched and understood by eyes whose gleam is\nunsoftened by any touch of pity or submission. It is most natural,\nif there are such spirits, that they should know Jesus while men\nknew Him not, and that their hatred should keep pace with their\nknowledge, even while by the knowledge the hatred was seen to be\nvain.\n\nObserve Christ's tone of authority and sternness. He had pity for\nmen, who were capable of redemption, but His words and demeanour to\nthe spirits are always severe. He accepts the most imperfect\nrecognition from men, and often seems as if labouring to evoke it,\nbut He silences the spirits' clear recognition. The confession which\nis 'unto salvation' comes from a heart that loves, not merely from a\nhead that perceives; and Jesus accepts nothing else. He will not\nhave His name soiled by such lips.\n\nNote, still further, Christ's absolute control of the demon. His\nbare word is sovereign, and secures outward obedience, though from\nan unsubdued and disobedient will. He cannot make the foul creature\nlove, but He can make him act. Surely Omnipotence speaks, if demons\nhear and obey. Their king had been conquered, and they knew their\nMaster. The strong man had been bound, and this is the spoiling of\nhis house. The question of the wondering worshippers in the\nsynagogue goes to the root of the matter, when they ask what they\nmust think of the whole message of One whose word gives law to the\nunclean spirits; for the command to them is a revelation to us, and\nwe learn His Godhead by the power of His simple word, which is but\nthe forth-putting of His will.\n\nWe cannot but notice the lurid light thrown by the existence of such\nspirits on the possibility of undying and responsible beings\nreaching, by continued alienation of heart and will from God, a\nstage in which they are beyond the capacity of improvement, and\noutside the sweep of Christ's pity.\n\nII. Verses 38 and 39 show us Christ in the gentleness of His healing\npower, and the immediate service of gratitude to Him. The scene in\nthe synagogue manifested 'authority and power,' and was prompted by\nabhorrence of the demon even more than by pity for his victim; but\nnow the Lord's tenderness shines unmingled with sternness. Mark\ngives details of this cure, which, no doubt, came from Peter--such\nas his joint ownership of the house with his brother, the names of\nthe companions of Jesus, and the infinitely tender action of taking\nthe sick woman by the hand and helping her to rise. But Luke, the\nphysician, is more precise in his description of the case: 'holden\nby a great fever.' He traces the cure to the word of rebuke, which,\nno doubt, accompanied the clasp of the hand.\n\nHere again Christ puts forth divine power in producing effects in\nthe material sphere by His naked word. 'He spake and it was done.'\nThat truly divine prerogative was put forth at the bidding of His\nown pity, and that pity which wielded Omnipotence was kindled by the\nbeseechings of sorrowing hearts. Is not this miracle, which shines\nso lustrously by the side of that terrible scene with the demon, a\npicture in one case, and that the sickness of one poor and probably\naged woman, of the great truth that heartens all our appeals to Him?\nHe who moves the forces of Deity still from His throne lets us move\nHis heart by our cry.\n\nLuke is especially struck with one feature in the case--the\nimmediate return of usual strength. The woman is lying, the one\nminute, pinned down and helpless with 'great fever,' and the next is\nbustling about her domestic duties. No wonder that a physician\nshould think so abnormal a case worthy of note. When Christ heals,\nHe heals thoroughly, and gives strength as well as healing. What\ncould a woman, with no house of her own, and probably a poor\ndependant on her son-in-law, do for her healer? Not much. But she\ndid what she could, and that without delay. The natural impulse of\ngratitude is to give its best, and the proper use of healing and new\nstrength is to minister to Him. Such a guest made humble household\ncares worship; and all our poor powers or tasks, consecrated to His\npraise and become the offerings of grateful hearts, are lifted into\ngreatness and dignity. He did not despise the modest fare hastily\ndressed for Him; and He still delights in our gifts, though the\ncattle on a thousand hills are His. 'I will sup with him,' says He,\nand therein promises to become, as it were, a guest at our humble\ntables.\n\nIII. Verses 40 and 41 show us the all-sufficiency of Christ's pity\nand power. The synagogue worship would be in the early morning, and\nthe healing of the woman immediately after, and the meal she\nprepared the midday repast. The news had time to spread; and as soon\nas the sinking sun relaxed the Sabbatical restrictions, a motley\ncrowd came flocking round the house, carrying all the sick that\ncould be lifted, all eager to share in His healing. The same kind of\nthing may be seen yet round many a traveller's tent. It did not\nargue real faith in Him, but it was genuine sense of need, and\nexpectation of blessing from His hand; and the measure of faith was\nthe measure of blessing. They got what they believed He could give.\nIf their faith had been larger, the answers would have been greater.\n\nBut men are quite sure that they want to be well when they are ill,\nand bodily healing will be sought with far more earnestness and\ntrouble than soul-healing. Crowds came to Jesus as Physician who\nnever cared to come to Him as Redeemer. Offer men the smaller gifts,\nand they will run over one another in their scramble for them; but\noffer them the highest, and they will scarcely hold out a languid\nhand to take them.\n\nBut the point made prominent by Luke is the inexhaustible fullness\nof pity and power, which met and satisfied all the petitioners. The\nmisery spoke to Christ's heart; and so as the level rays of the\nsetting sun cast a lengthening shadow among the sad groups, He moved\namidst them, and with gentle touch healed them all. To-day, as then,\nthe fountain of His pity and healing power is full, after thousands\nhave drawn from it, and no crowd of suppliants bars our way to His\nheart or His hands. He has 'enough for all, enough for each, enough\nfor ever more.'\n\nThe reference to demoniacs adds nothing to the particulars in the\nearlier verses except the evidence it gives of the frequency of\npossession then.\n\nIV. Verses 42-44 show us Jesus seeking seclusion, but willingly\nsacrificing it at men's call. He withdraws in early morning, not\nbecause His store of power was exhausted, or His pity had tired, but\nto renew His communion with the Father. He needed solitude and\nsilence, and we need it still more. No work worth doing will ever be\ndone for Him unless we are familiar with some quiet place, where we\nand God alone together can hold converse, and new strength be poured\ninto our hearts. Our Lord is here our pattern, also, of willingly\nleaving the place of communion when duty calls and men implore. We\nmust not stay on the Mount of Transfiguration when demoniac boys are\nwrithing on the plain below, and heart-broken fathers wearying for\nour coming. A great, solemn 'must' ruled His life, as it should do\nours, and the fulfilment of that for which He 'was sent' ever was\nHis aim, rather than even the blessedness of solitary communion or\nrepose of the silent hour of prayer.\n\n\n\n\nINSTRUCTIONS FOR FISHERMEN\n\n\n    'Now when He had left speaking, He said unto Simon,\n    Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a\n    draught.'--LUKE v. 4.\n\nThe day's work begins early in the East. So the sun, as it rose\nabove the hills on the other side of the lake, shone down upon a\nbusy scene, fresh with the dew and energy of the morning, on the\nbeach by the little village of Bethsaida. One group of fishermen was\nwashing their nets, their boats being hauled up on the strand. A\ncrowd of listeners was thus early gathered round the Teacher; but\nthe fishermen, who were His disciples, seem to have gone on with\ntheir work, never minding Christ or the crowd. It is sometimes quite\nas religious to be washing nets as to be listening to Christ's\nteaching.\n\nThe incident which follows the words of my text, and which is called\nthe first miraculous draught of fishes, is stamped by our Lord\nHimself with a symbolic purpose; for at the end of it He says: 'Fear\nnot! from henceforth thou shalt catch men.' And that flings back a\nflood of light on the whole story; and not only warrants but obliges\nus to take it as being by Him intended for the instruction in their\nChristian work of these four whom He has chosen to be His workers.\nHowever many of our Lord's miracles may not come under this category\nof symbolism (and I, for my part, do not believe that there are any\nof them which do not), this one clearly does. We have His own\ncommentary to compel us to interpret its features as meaning\nsomething beyond what appears on the surface. I take it, then, that\nwe have here a first vivid code of instructions which our Lord gives\nto all His servants who do work for Him; and I wish to look at the\nvarious stages of this incident from that point of view.\n\nIf there are any of my hearers who think to themselves, 'Ah, well!\nhe is not going to say anything that I have anything to do with,' so\nmuch the worse for you, if you are not a Christian; or, so much the\nworse for you if, being a Christian, you are not an active servant.\nJesus Christ had four disciples who were fishermen, and out of them\nHe made four fishers of men. The obligation is universal.\n\nI. The Law of Service.\n\n'Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught.'\nNow there is nothing more remarkable in the whole narrative than the\nmatter-of-course fashion in which our Lord takes the disposal of\nthese men, and orders them about. It is not explicable unless we\nfall back upon what Luke does not tell us, but John does, in his\nGospel, that this was by no means the first time that He had come\nacross Peter and Andrew his brother, or James and John his brother.\nWe do not need to trouble ourselves with the chronological question\nhow long before they had been drawn to Him at the fords of Jordan by\nthe witness of John the Baptist, and by the witness of some of them\nto the others. The relationship had been then commenced which is\npresupposed by our Lord's authoritative tone here. It leads in the\nincident of my text to a closer discipleship, which did not admit of\nSimon and John hauling or cleaning their nets any more. They had\nbeen disciples before in a certain loose fashion, a fashion which\npermitted them to go home and look after their ordinary avocations.\nHence-forward they were disciples in a much more stringent fashion.\nIt was because they had already said 'Rabbi! Thou art the Son of\nGod! Thou art the King of Israel,' that this strange imperative\ncommand, inexplicable, except by the supplement of the last of the\nfour Gospels, came from Christ's lips and secured immediate\nobedience.\n\nIf we thus understand that His authority follows on our\ndiscipleship, and that the words of my text, first of all, insist\nupon and assert His right to command and absolutely dispose of the\nactivities, resources, and persons of all His disciples, we have\nlearned something that we only need to practise in order to make our\nlives noble with a strange nobility, and blessed and sweet with an\nunearthly sanctity and blessedness.\n\nFurther, the words of my text not only declare for us thus the\nabsolute authority of Jesus Christ over all His disciples, but also\nreveal His sweet promise and gracious assurance that He cares to\nguide, to direct, to prescribe spheres, to determine methods, to\nlead those who docilely look to Him and wait upon Him, in paths in\nwhich their activity may most profitably be employed for Him and for\nHis Church. If there is anything that is declared to us plainly in\nthe Scriptures, with regard to the relationships between men and\nJesus Christ, it is this, that a docile heart will always be a\nguided heart, partly by inward whispers, which only they disbelieve\nwho limit God in His relation to men, beyond what they have a right\nto do; and partly by outward providences which only they disbelieve\nwho limit God in His power over the external world, beyond what they\nhave a right to do. He will guide, sometimes with His eye, to which\nthe loving eye flashes back response; sometimes with His whispered\nword, when the noises of earth and the pulsations of self-will are\nstilled; sometimes with His rod, which the less sensitive of His\nsons do often need; sometimes by successes in paths that we venture\nupon tentatively and timidly; and sometimes by failures in paths\ninto which we rush confidently and presumptuously; but always, the\nwaiting heart is a guided heart, and if we listen we shall hear\n'This is the way, walk ye in it.' And sometimes it is God's will\nthat we should make mistakes, for these too help us to learn His\nwill.\n\nBut, further, and more particularly, I do not think that I am unduly\nreading too much meaning into this story, if I ask you to put emphasis\nupon one word, 'Launch out into the _deep_.' As long as you keep\npottering along, a boat's length from the shore, you will only catch\nlittle fishes. The big ones, and the heavy takes are away out yonder.\nGo out there, if you want to get them. Which, being translated, is\nthis--The same spirit of daring enterprise, which is a condition of\nsuccess in secular matters, is no less potent a factor in the success\nof Christian men in their enterprises for Jesus Christ. As long as we\nkeep Him down, within the limits of use and wont, and are horribly\nafraid of anything that our great-grandfathers did not use to do,\nthere will be very few fish in the bottom of the boat.\n\nOh, brethren! if one thinks of the world into which it has been\nGod's providence to put us, a world all seething with new\naspirations and unrest--if we think of the condition of the great\ncity in which we live, which is only a specimen of the cities of\nEngland, and of the tragical insufficiency of Christian enterprise\nand effort, as compared with the overwhelming masses of the\ncommunity, surely, surely, there is nothing more wanted to make\nChristian people wake up from their old jog-trot habits, and cast\nthemselves with new earnestness, new daring and enterprise, into\nforms of service which conscience and sober wisdom may approve. Of\ncourse, I do not forget that any such new methods must each approve\nthemselves at the tribunal of the Christian consciousness. It is no\npart of my business here to descend into details and particulars,\nbut I do want to lay on my own heart, and especially on the hearts\nof the members of the church of which I have the honour to be the\npastor, and also upon all other Christian people whom my voice may\nreach, the solemn responsibility which the conditions of life in our\ngeneration lay upon Christian men and women, 'Launch out into the\ndeep and let down your nets.' I believe, for my part, that if all\nthe good, God-fearing, Christ-loving men and women in Manchester\nwere to hear this voice sounding in their ears, and to obey it, they\nwould change the face of the city.\n\nII. The Response.\n\nPeter, characteristically, speaks out, and says exactly what a\nfisherman would be likely to say to a carpenter from Nazareth, that\ncame down to teach him his business. The landsman would not know\nwhat the fisherman knew well enough, that it was useless to go\nfishing in the morning if you had not caught anything all night.\nThere was very little chance of getting any better success when the\nsun's rays were glinting on the surface of the water.\n\n'We have toiled all the night, and have taken nothing.' Experience\nsaid, 'No! do not.' Christ said, 'Yes! do.' And so when Peter has\nmade a clean breast of his objection, founded on experience, he goes\non with the consent prompted by the devotion and consecration of\nlove, 'nevertheless.' A great word that. 'We have toiled all the\nnight, and have taken nothing; nevertheless at _Thy_ word we will\nlet down the net. So here goes.' And away they went, breakfastless\nperhaps, with their nets half cleaned, and sleepy and tired with the\nnight's work.\n\nHere, then, we see obedience that springs delighted to obey, because\nit is impelled by love. That is the spirit which can be trusted to\ngo out into the deep, which does not ask whether things are\nrecognised and usual or not, but which, if once it is sure of the\nLord's will, takes no counsel of anything else. How should it,\nseeing that there is nothing so delightsome to a heart that truly\nloves as to know and do the will of its beloved? And that, dear\nbrethren, is the spirit that all we Christian people need--a deeper,\nmore vivid, more continual, soul-subduing, muscle-straining\nconsciousness that Jesus Christ 'loved me and gave Himself for me.'\nThen His whisper will be like thunder, and the motto of our lives\nwill be 'At Thy word, I will!'\n\nFurther, here is obedience that was not in the least degree\ndepressed by the recognition of past failure. All night long they\nhad been dropping the net overboard, and drawing it in, and with\nhorny, wet hands seeking in its meshes, and finding nothing. Then\noverboard with it again, and more pulling at the heavy sweeps, till\nthe dawn began to show, and all in vain. Now the weary task must be\ndone all over again, though in all the past hours though they were\nthe best, there has been only failure.\n\nI think that our Christian courage and consecration would be\nimmensely increased, if we could learn the lesson of my text; and\nfeel that, however often in the past I may have broken down, the\nword of Christ's command, which thrills into my will, is also the\nword of Christ's promise which should stay my heart, and give me the\nassurance that past defeat shall be converted into future victory.\n\nThere is an obedience which did not grudge fresh toil before the\neffect of past toils had been quite got over. The nets, as I said,\nwere only half cleaned. It was a pity to begin and dirty them again.\nThe fishers had had a very hard night's toil. If they had been like\nsome of us they would have said, 'Oh! I have been working hard all\nthe night. I cannot possibly do any more this morning.' 'I am so\nvery busy with my business all the week, that it is perfectly absurd\nto talk about my teaching in a Sunday-school.' That was not their\nspirit at all. No matter how they had to rub their eyes to get the\nsleep out of them, they just bundled the nets into the boat once\nmore, pushed her down the strand, and shoved her out into the blue\nwaters at Christ's bidding. And that is the sort of workmen that He\nwants, and that you and I should be.\n\nFurther, we have here an obedience that kept the Master's word\nsounding in its heart whilst it was at work. 'At Thy word will I let\ndown the net.'\n\nAh! we very often begin working with a very pure motive, and as we\ngo on, the motive gradually oozes away, and what was begun in the\nspirit is continued in the flesh; and what was begun with a true\ndevotion to Jesus Christ is continued because we were doing it\nyesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and\nbecause it is the custom to do it. So we go on. The heart having all\ngone out of our service, the blessing is gone out of it too. But if\nwe will keep our hearts near that Lord and listen to His voice\ncalling us, wearied or not wearied, beaten before or not beaten\nbefore, and do as He bids us, launch out into the deep, we shall not\ntoil in vain.\n\nIII. The result.\n\nChrist's command ever includes His promise. Work done for Him is never\nresultless. True, His most faithful servants have often to say, if\nthey look at their few sheaves with the eye of sense, 'I have spent\nmy strength for nought.' True, the Apostolic experience is, at the\nbest, but too exactly repeated, 'Some believed, and some believed not.'\nChrist's Gospel always produces its twofold effect, being 'a savour of\nlife unto life, or of death unto death.' If the great Sower, when He\nwent forth to sow, expected but a fourth part of the seed to fall into\ngood ground, His servants need look for no larger results. But still\nit remains true that honest, earnest work for Jesus, wisely planned\nand prayerfully carried out with self-oblivion and self-surrender, will\nnot be unblessed. If our labour is 'in the Lord,' it will not be 'in\nvain.' Just as pain is a danger signal, pointing to mischief at work\non the body, so failure in achieving the results of Christian service\nis, for the most part, an indication of something wrong in method or\nspirit.\n\nBut, if we are toiling in loving obedience to Christ's voice, and\nseeking His direction as to sphere and manner of service, we may be\nquite sure of this, that whether we get, immediately or no, the\noutward and visible results which this incident promises to all who\nfulfil the conditions, we shall get the results which were\nsymbolised in the second form of this miraculous draught of fishes.\nFor, if you remember, there was another incident at the end of\nChrist's life, modelled upon this one, and equally significant,\nthough in a different fashion. On that occasion, when the disciples\nhad been toiling all the night, and saw, in the dim twilight of the\nmorning, the questionable figure standing on the shore there, they\nwere bidden to bring of the fish that they had caught, and when they\ncame to land they saw a fire of coals, and fish laid thereon, and\nbread; and His voice said, 'Come, and eat!' Blessed are the workers\nthat work for the Master, for living they shall not be left without\nHis blessing, and dying, 'they rest from their labours'--by the side\nof that mysterious fire, and Christ-provided food--'and their works\ndo follow them, in that they bring of the fish which they have\ncaught.\n\n\n\n\nFEAR AND FAITH\n\n\n    'When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees,\n    saying, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord.'\n    --LUKE v. 8.\n\n    'Now, when Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he\n    girt his fisher's coat unto him,... and did cast\n    himself into the sea.'--JOHN xxi. 7.\n\nThese two instances of the miraculous draught of fishes on the Lake\nof Gennesareth are obviously intended to be taken in conjunction.\nTheir similarities and their differences are equally striking and\nequally instructive. In the fragment of the incident which I have\nselected for our consideration now, we have the same man, in the\nsame scene and circumstances, in the presence of the same Lord,\nacting under the influences of the same motive, and doing two\nexactly opposite things.\n\nIn the first case, the miracle at once struck him with the\nconsciousness that he was now, in some way, he knew not how, in the\nimmediate presence of the supernatural. That was immediately\nfollowed by a quick spasm and sense of sin, and that again by a\nrecoil of terror, and that again by the cry, 'Go out of the boat;\nfor I am a sinful man, O Lord.'\n\nIn the other instance, as soon as he saw (or rather, by the help of\nhis friend's clearer sight, learned) that that dim and questionable\nfigure on the morning beach there, was the Lord, the sight brought\nback his sin to his mind. But this time the consciousness of sin\nsent him splashing over the side, and through the shallow water, to\nstruggle anyhow to get close to his Lord, not because he thought\nmore complacently of himself or less loftily of his Master, but\nbecause he had learned that the best place for a sinful man was as\nclose to Christ as ever he could get. And so, if we put these two\nincidents together, we get two or three thoughts that it is worth\nour while to dwell upon.\n\nI. I ask you to notice, first, that instinctive and swift awaking of\nconscience.\n\nThis was not Peter's first acquaintance with Jesus Christ, nor his\nfirst enrolment in the ranks of disciples. John's Gospel tells the\nvery beginning, and how, long before this incident, he had\nrecognised Jesus Christ to be the King of Israel. This was not his\nfirst experience of a miracle. There had been many wrought in\nCapernaum of which probably he was an observer; and he had been at\nthe wedding of Cana of Galilee; and in many ways and at many times,\nno doubt had seen manifestations of our Lord's supernatural power.\nBut here, in his own boat, with his own nets, about his own sort of\nwork, the thing came home to him as it never had come home before.\nAnd although he had long ago recognised Jesus Christ as the Messiah,\nthere is a new, tremulous accession of conviction in that 'O Lord!'\nIt means more than 'Master,' as he had just called Jesus. It means\nmore than he knew himself, no doubt, but it means at least a great,\nsudden illumination as to who and what Christ was. And so the\nconsciousness of sin flashes upon him at once, as a consequence of\nthat new vision of the divine, as manifested in Jesus Christ. The\nlinks of the process of thought are suppressed. We only see the two\nends of it. He passed through a series of thoughts with lightning\nrapidity. The beginning was the recognition of Christ as in some\nsense the manifestation to him of the Divine Presence, and the end\nof it was the recognition of his own sinfulness. He had no new\nfacts; but new meaning and vitality were given to the facts that had\nlong been familiar to him. The first result of this was a new\nconviction of his own hollowness and evil; and then, side by side\nwith that sense of demerit and sin, came this other trembling\napprehension of personal consequences. And so, not thinking so much\nabout the sin as about the punishment that he thought must\nnecessarily come when the holy and the impure collided, he cried,\n'Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!'\n\nNow I take it that you get there, in that one instance, packed into\nsmall and picturesque compass, just the outlines of what it is\nreasonable and right that there should always go on in a heart when\nit first catches a glimpse of the purity, and holiness, and nearness\nof God, and of the awful, solemn verity that we do, each of us for\nhimself, stand in a living, personal relation to Him. That sudden\nconviction may come by a thousand causes. A sunset opening the gates\nto the infinite distance may do it. A chance word may do it. A\nphrase in a sermon may do it. Some personal sorrow or sickness may\ndo it. Any accidental push may touch the spring, and then the door\nflies open, for we all of us carry, buried deep down in most of us,\nand not easily got at, that hidden conviction, only needing the\nletting in of air to flame up, that we have indeed to do with a\nliving God; that we are sinful and He is pure, and that, that being\nthe case, the discord between us, if we come to close quarters, must\nend disastrously for us.\n\nYou remember the grand vision of Isaiah, how, when he saw the King\nsitting on His throne, 'high and lifted up, and His train filled the\nTemple,' the first thought was, not of rapture at the Apocalypse,\nnot of adoration of the greatness, not of aspiration after the\npurity, not of any desire to join in the 'Holy! Holy! Holy!' of the\nburning spirits, but 'Woe is me, for I am undone; for mine eyes have\nseen the King; for I am a man of unclean lips.' Ah, brethren!\nwhenever the commonplaces of our professed religious belief are\nturned into realities for us, and these things that we have all been\nfamiliar with from our childhood, flame before us as true and real,\nthen there comes something analogous to the experience of that other\nOld Testament character--'I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the\near, but now mine eyes see Thee; wherefore I abhor myself, and\nrepent in dust and ashes.'\n\nAnd then there comes, in like manner, and there ought to come, along\nwith this new vision of a God in His purity, and the new sense of my\nown sinfulness, the apprehension of personal evil. For, although it\nbe the lowest of its functions, it is a function of conscience, not\nonly to say to me, 'It is wrong to do what is wrong,' but to say,\ntoo, 'If you do wrong, you will have to bear the consequences.' I\nbelieve that a part of the instinctive voice of conscience is the\ndeclaration, not only of a law, but of a Lawgiver, and that part of\nits message to me is not only that sin is a transgression of the\nlaw, but that 'the wages of sin is death.'\n\nNow, let me ask you to ask yourselves whether it is not a strange\nand solemn and sad testimony to the reality and universality of the\nfact of sin that the sense of impurity and dread of its issues are\nthe uniform results of any vivid, thrilling consciousness of\nnearness to God. And let me ask you to ask yourself one other\nquestion, and that is, whether it is a wise thing to live upon a\nsurface that may be shattered at any moment; whether that is true\npeace which needs but a touch to melt away; whether you are wise\nwith all this combustible material deep down in your conscience, in\npaying no regard to it but living and frolicking, and feasting and\ntrafficking, and lusting and sinning on the surface, like those\nlight-hearted, light-headed fools that build their houses on the\nslopes of volcanoes when the lava rush may come at any moment?\n\nII. That brings me to note, secondly, the mistaken cry of fear.\n\nPeter felt uneasy in the presence of that pure eye, and he also\nfelt, and was mistaken in feeling, that somehow or other he would be\nsafer if he was not so near the Master. Well, if it were true that\nJesus Christ brought God near to him, and if it were true that the\nproximity of God was the revelation of his blackness and the\npremonition and prophecy of evil to himself, would getting Christ\nout of the boat help him much? The facts would remain the same. The\ndeparture of the physician does not tend to cure the disease; and\nthus the cry,' Go away from me because I am sinful,' was all but\nludicrous if it had not been so tragical in its misapprehension of\nthe facts of the case and the cure for them.\n\nNow the parallel to that, with you and me, is--what? How do we\ncommit this same error? By trying to get rid of the thoughts which\nevoke these uncomfortable feelings of being impure and in peril. But\ndoes ceasing to remember the facts make any difference in the facts?\nSurely not. Just recall for a moment the many ways in which people\nmanage to blind themselves to these plain, and to some of us\nunwelcome, truths. You may do it by availing yourselves of that\nstrange power that we all have, of not attending to things that we\ndo not like to think about. It is a strange thing that a man should\nbe able to do that; it is a sad thing that any man should be fool\nenough to do it. But there are many among my hearers, I have no\ndoubt whatever, who know that if they were to let their thoughts\ndwell on the facts of their own characters and relation to God they\nwould be uncomfortable, and who, therefore, do their best to keep\nsuch thoughts at a safe distance. So, as soon as the sermon is over,\nsome of you will begin to criticise me, or to discuss politics, or\ngossip, and so get rid of the impressions that the truth might\nproduce. Or you fling yourselves into business. One of the reasons\nfor the fierce energy which some men throw into their common\navocations is their knowledge that if they have leisure, there may\ncome into their chambers, and sit down beside them there, these\nunwelcome thoughts, that kill mirth. Some of you try to get rid of\nthe Christ out of your boat by another way. You plunge into\nsensualism, and live in the low, vulgar atmosphere of fleshly\ndelight and sensuous excitements in order to drown thought. And some\nof you do it by the even simpler process of merely giving no heed to\nsuch thoughts when kindled. The fire, unfed and unstirred, goes out.\nThat is one way in which people come to have consciences, to use the\ndreadful words of the New Testament, 'seared as with a hot iron.' If\nyou will only never listen to it, it will stop speaking after a\nwhile, and then you will have an exemption from all these thoughts.\nWhen Felix first heard about temperance and righteousness and\njudgment to come he trembled, but paid no heed to his tremor, and\nsaid, 'Go away for this time, and when I am not busy at anything\nelse, I will have thee back again.' He did have Paul back again many\na time, and communed with him, but we never read that he trembled\nany more. The impression is not always reproduced, although the\ncircumstances that produced it at first may be. The most\nimpenetrable armour in which to clothe oneself against the sword of\nthe Spirit is hammered out of former convictions that were never\nacted on. A soul cased in these is very hard to get at.\n\nBut consider the folly of seeking to get rid of truth, however\nunwelcome, under the delusion that it ceases to be true because we\ncease to look at it. Christ's leaving the boat would not have helped\nPeter. The facts remained, however he refused to look at them. If he\ncould have changed them by getting rid of Him who reminded him of\nthem, it might have been worth while to send Him away--but to\ndismiss the physician is a new way of curing the disease. Pain is an\nalarm bell for the physical nature to point to something wrong\nthere, and this sense of evil, this shrinking from God regarded as\nthe judge, is the alarm bell in the spiritual nature to warn of\nsomething wrong there. Do you think that you banish the danger for\nwhich the alarm bell is rung because you wrap a clout round the\nclapper so as to prevent it from sounding? and do you think that you\nmake it less true that 'every transgression and disobedience shall\nreceive its just recompense of reward' by bidding your conscience\nhold its peace when it tells you so, or by trying to drown its voice\namidst the shouts of revelry, or the whirr of spindles, or the roar\nof traffic? By no means. The facts remain; and nothing except what\ndeals with the facts is the cure which a wise man will adopt.\n\nYou remember the old story of the king of Babylon who sat feasting\non the night when the city was captured. When the Finger came out\nand wrote upon the wall, 'Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin,' it did not\nstop the feast. They went on with their rioting, and whilst they\nwere carousing, the enemy was creeping up the dried bed of the\ndiverted river, 'and in that night was Belshazzar slain' amidst his\nwine-cups, and the flowers on his temples were dabbled with his\nblood. No more insane way of curing the consciousness of sin and the\ndread of judgment than that of stifling the voice that evokes it was\never dreamed of in an asylum.\n\nIII. Lastly, notice the right place for a sinful man.\n\nOn the second occasion to which our texts refer we have the Apostle\nfar more deeply conscious of his sin than he was on the first. He\nremembered his denial, and no doubt he remembered also the secret\ninterview that Jesus Christ had with him on the day of the\nResurrection, when, no doubt, He communicated to him His frank and\nfull assurance of forgiveness, He knows far more of Christ's dignity\nand character and nature after the Resurrection than he had done on\nthat day, long ago, by the banks of the lake. The deeper sense of\nhis own sin, and the clearer and loftier view of who and what Jesus\nChrist was, send him struggling to his Master, and make him blessed\nonly at His feet.\n\nAh yes, brother! the superficial knowledge of my evil may drive me\naway from Jesus Christ; the deepest conviction of it will send me\nright into His arms. A partial knowledge of the divine nature as\nrevealed in Him as judge, and punitive and necessarily antagonistic\nto the blackness of my sin, in the lustrous whiteness of His purity,\nmay drive me away from Him, but the deeper knowledge of God\nmanifested in Jesus Christ, the long-suffering, the gentle, loving,\npardoning, will send me to Him in all the depth of my self-abasement\nand in the confidence in His love as covering over my sin and\naccepting me. Where does the child go when it has transgressed\nagainst its mother's word? Into its mother's arms to hide its face\nupon her bosom near her heart. 'Against Thee, Thee only have I\nsinned'; and therefore to Thee, Thee only will I go. Only in\nnearness to Jesus Christ can we get the anodyne that quiets the\nconscience--the blessed assurance of forgiveness that lightens us of\nour burden and dread, and the power for holiness that will change\nour impurity into the likeness of His own purity. He, and He only,\ncan forgive. He, and He only, brings the loving God into the midst\nof unloving men. He, and He only, hath offered the sacrifice in\nwhich all sin is done away. He, and He only, by the communication of\nHis Spirit and life to me, will make me pure and deliver me from the\nburden of my sin.\n\nAnd so the man who knows his own need and Christ's grace will not\nsay, 'Depart from me for I am a sinful man,' but he will say, 'Leave\nme never, nor forsake me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord; but in Thee\nI have forgiveness and righteousness.'\n\nDear friends! that consciousness of demerit once evoked in a man's\nheart, however imperfectly, as I believe it is in some of your\nhearts now, must issue in one of two things. Either it will send you\nfurther into darkness to get away from the light, as the bats in a\ncave will flit to the deepest recesses of it in order to escape the\ntorch, or it will bring you nearer to Him, and at His feet you will\nfind cleansing.\n\nOh, dear friends!--strangers many of you, but all friends--let me\nbeseech you that, if the merciful Spirit of God is in any measure\nusing my poor words to touch your consciences and hearts, you would\nnot venture to seek escape from the convictions which are stirring\nin you by any other way than by betaking yourselves to the Cross.\nLet it not be, I pray you, that because you know yourselves to be in\nneed of forgiveness, and to stand in peril of judgment, you say to\nGod,' Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge of Thy ways.'\nBut rather do you cast yourselves into Christ's arms and keep near\nHim; saying as this same Peter did, on another occasion, 'Lord! to\nwhom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.'\n\n\n\n\nBLASPHEMER, OR--WHO?\n\n\n    'And it came to pass on a certain day, as He was\n    teaching, that there were Pharisees and doctors of the\n    law sitting by, which were come out of every town of\n    Galilee, and Judea, and Jerusalem; and the power of\n    the Lord was present to heal them. 18. And, behold,\n    men brought in a bed a man which was taken with a\n    palsy: and they sought means to bring him in, and to\n    lay him before Him. 19. And when they could not find\n    by what way they might bring him in because of the\n    multitude, they went upon the house-top, and let him\n    down through the tiling, with his couch, into the\n    midst before Jesus. 20. And when He saw their faith,\n    He said unto him, Man, thy sins are forgiven thee.\n    21. And the scribes and the Pharisees began to reason,\n    saying, Who is this which speaketh blasphemies? Who\n    can forgive sins but God alone? 22. But when Jesus\n    perceived their thoughts, He, answering, said unto\n    them, What reason ye in your hearts? 23. Whether is\n    easier to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee; or to say,\n    Rise up and walk! 24. But that ye may know that the\n    Son of man hath power upon earth to forgive sins, (He\n    said unto the sick of the palsy,) I say unto thee,\n    Arise, and take up thy couch, and go unto thine house.\n    25. And immediately he rose up before them, and took\n    up that whereon he lay, and departed to his own house,\n    glorifying God. 26. And they were all amazed, and they\n    glorified God, and were filled with fear, saying, We\n    have seen strange things to-day.'--LUKE v. 17-26.\n\nLuke describes the composition of the unfriendly observers in this\ncrowd with more emphasis and minuteness than the other Evangelists\ndo. They were Pharisees and doctors, and they were assembled from\nevery part of Galilee, and even from Judea, and, what was most\nremarkable, from Jerusalem itself. Probably the conflict with the\nauthorities in the capital recorded in John v. had taken place by\nthis time, and if so, a deputation from the Sanhedrim would very\nnaturally be despatched to Capernaum, and its members would as\nnaturally summon the local lights to sit with them, and watch this\nrevolutionary young teacher, who had no licence from them, and\napparently not much reverence for them.\n\nOne can easily imagine that these heresy-hunters would be much too\nsuperior persons to mix with the crowd about the door of Peter's\nhouse, and would, as Luke says, be 'sitting by,' near enough to see\nand hear, but far enough to show that they had no share in the\nvulgar enthusiasm of these provincial peasants. They were too holy\nto mingle with the mob, so they kept together by themselves, and\nwaited hopefully for some heresy or breach of their multitudinous\nprecepts. They got more than they expected.\n\nWe may note the contrast between their cynical watchfulness and the\nglorious manifestations for which they had no eyes. 'The power of\nthe Lord'--that is, of Christ--'was' (operative) 'in His healing,'\nor, according to another reading, 'to heal them.' But the critics\ntook no heed of that. There is a temper of mind which is sharp-eyed\nas a lynx for faults, and blind as a bat to evidences of divine\npower in the Gospel or its adherents. Some noses are keen to smell\nstenches, and dull to perceive fragrance. The race of such\ninquisitors is not extinct.\n\nThey contrast, too, with the earnestness of the four friends who\nbrought the paralysed man. The former sat cool and critical, because\nthey had no sense of need either for themselves or for others. The\nlatter made all the effort they could to fight through the crowd,\nand then took to the roof by some outside stair, and hastily\nstripping off enough of the tiling, lowered their friend, bed and\nall, right down in front of the young Rabbi. The house would be low,\nand the roof slight, and Jesus was probably seated in an open inner\ncourt or verandah, At any rate, the description gives a piece of\nlocal colour, and presents no improbability.\n\nEarnestness in striving to come oneself or to bring a dear one to\nChrist's feet seems a supremely absurd waste of energy to a cynical\ncritic, who feels no need of anything that Christ can give. It looks\nrather different to the paralytic on his couch, and to the friends\nwho long for his healing.\n\nThe first lesson from this incident is that our deepest need is\nforgiveness. No doubt, something in the paralytic's case determined\nChrist's method with him. Perhaps his sickness had been brought on\nby dissipation, and possibly conscience was lashing him with a whip\nof scorpions, so that, while his friends sought for his healing, he\nhimself was more anxious for pardon. It is very unlikely that Jesus\nwould have offered forgiveness unless He had known that it was\nyearned for. But whether that is so or not, we may fairly generalise\nthe order of givings in this miracle, and draw from it the lesson\nthat what Jesus then gave first is His chief gift. In most of His\nother miracles He gave bodily healing first. First or second, it is\nalways Christ's chief gift in the beginning of discipleship. His\nmiracles of bodily healing are parables of that higher miracle. This\nincident brings out what is always the order of relative importance,\nwhether it is that of chronological sequence or not.\n\nAnd we all need to lay that truth to heart for ourselves. No\ntinkering with superficial discomforts, or culture of intellect and\ntaste, or success in worldly pursuits, will avail to stanch the deep\nwound through which our life-blood is ebbing out. We need something\nthat goes deeper than all these styptics. Only a power which can\ndeal with our sense of sin, and soothe that into blessed assurance\nof pardon, is strong enough to grapple with our true root of misery.\nIt is useless to give a man dying of cancer medicine for pimples.\nThat is what all attempts to make man happy and restful while sin\nremains unforgiven, are doing.\n\nSocial reformers need this lesson. Many voices proclaim many gospels\nto-day. Culture, economical or social reconstruction, is trumpeted\nas the panacea. But it matters comparatively little how society is\norganised. If its individual members retain their former natures,\nthe former evils will come back, whatever its organisation. The only\nthorough cure for social evils is individual regeneration. Christ\ndeals with men singly, and remoulds society by renewing the\nindividual. The most elaborate machinery may be used for filtering\nthe black waters. What will be the good of that if the fountain of\nblackness is not sealed up, or rather purified, at its hidden\nsource? Make the tree good, and its fruit will be good. To make the\ntree good, you must begin with dealing with sin.\n\nThe second lesson from this incident is that Christ's claim to\nforgive sins is either blasphemy or the manifest token of divinity.\nThese Pharisees scented heresy at once. They were blind to the\npathos of the story, and hard as millstones towards the poor\nsufferer's wistful looks. But they pounced at once gleefully on\nChrist's words. They were perfectly right in their premises that\nforgiveness was a divine prerogative which no man could share. For\nsin is the name of evil, when considered in its relation to God. He\nonly can forgive it, for 'against Thee, Thee only,' as David\nconfessed, is it committed. True, the same act may be full of\nharmful results to men, and may be a breach of human law, but in its\ncharacter as sin it refers to God only. Forgiveness is the\noutpouring of God's love on a sinner, uninterrupted by his sin. Only\nGod can pour out that love.\n\nBut the cavillers were quite wrong in their conclusion. He did not\n'blaspheme.' The fact that Jesus knew and answered their whispered\nor unspoken 'reasonings in their hearts' might have taught them that\nhere was more than a rabbi, or even a prophet. But He goes on to\nreiterate His assertion that He has power to forgive sins.\n\nObserve that He does not deny their premises. Nor does He, as He was\nbound in common honesty to do, set them right if they were wrong in\nsupposing that He had claimed divine power. A wise religious\nteacher, who saw himself misunderstood as asserting that he could\ngive what he only meant to assure a penitent that God would give,\nwould have instantly said, 'Do not mistake me. I am only doing what\nevery servant of God's should and can do, telling this poor brother\nthat God is ready to forgive. God forbid that I should be supposed\nto do more than to declare his forgiveness!' Christ's answer is the\nstrongest possible contrast to that. He knew what these Pharisees\nsupposed Him to have meant by His authoritative words, and knowing\nit, He repeats them, and points to the miracle about to be done as\ntheir vindication.\n\nIs there any possible way of escaping from the conclusion that Jesus\nsolemnly and deliberately laid claim to exercise the divine\nprerogative of dispensing pardon? If He did, what shall we say of\nHim? Surely there is no third judgment of Him and His words\npossible; but either the Pharisees were right, and 'this man,' this\npattern of all meekness and perfect example of humility, blasphemed,\nor else Peter was right when he said, 'Thou art the Christ, the Son\nof the living God.'\n\nThe third lesson is that the visible effects of Christ's power\nattest the reality of His claim to produce the invisible effects of\npeaceful assurance of forgiveness. It was equally easy to say, 'Thy\nsins are forgiven thee,' and to say, 'Take up thy bed and walk.' It\nwas equally impossible for a mere man to forgive, and to give the\nparalytic muscular force to move. But the one saying could be\ntested, and its fulfilment verified by sight. The other could not;\nbut if the visible impossibility was done, it was a witness that the\ninvisible one could be.\n\nThe striking way in which our Lord weaves in His command to the\npalsied man to take up his bed with His words to the Pharisees is\npreserved in all the Gospels, and gives vividness to the narrative,\nwhile it brings out the main purpose of the miracle. It was a\ndemonstration in the visible sphere of Christ's power in the\ninvisible. Both were divine acts, and that which could be verified\nby sight established the reality of that which could not.\n\nThe same principle may be widely extended. It includes all the\noutward effects of Christ's gospel in the world. There are abundance\nof these which are patent to fair-minded observers. If one wishes to\nknow what these are, he has only to contrast heathen lands with\nthose in which, however imperfectly, Jesus is recognised as King and\nExample. The lives of His disciples are full of faults, but they\nshould, and in a measure, do, witness to the reality of His gifts of\nforgiveness and conquest of sin. He has done more to restore\nstrength to humanity paralysed for good than all other would-be\nphysicians put together have done; and since He has visibly effected\nsuch manifest changes on outward lives, it is no rash conclusion to\ndraw that He can change the inward nature. If He has healed the\npalsy, that is a work surpassing human power, and it proves that He\ncan forgive the sin which brought the paralysis, and tied the\nhelpless sufferer to his couch of pain.\n\n\n\n\n\nLAWS OF THE KINGDOM\n\n\n    'And He lifted up His eyes on His disciples, and said,\n    Blessed be ye poor: for yours is the kingdom of God,\n    21. Blessed are ye that hunger now: for ye shall be\n    filled. Blessed are ye that weep now: for ye shall\n    laugh. 22. Blessed are ye, when men shall hate you,\n    and when they shall separate you from their company,\n    and shall reproach you, and cast out your name as\n    evil, for the Son of man's sake. 23. Rejoice ye in\n    that day, and leap for joy; for, behold, your reward\n    is great in heaven: for in the like manner did their\n    fathers unto the prophets. 24. But woe unto you that\n    are rich! for ye have received your consolation.\n    25. Woe unto you that are full! for ye shall hunger.\n    Woe unto you that laugh now! for ye shall mourn and\n    weep. 26. Woe unto you when all men shall speak well\n    of you! for so did their fathers to the false prophets.\n    27. But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies,\n    do good to them which hate you, 28. Bless them that\n    curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use\n    you. 29. And unto him that smiteth thee on the one\n    cheek, offer also the other; and him that taketh away\n    thy cloak, forbid not to take thy coat also. 30. Give\n    to every man that asketh of thee; and of him that\n    taketh away thy goods ask them not again. 31. And as\n    ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them\n    likewise.'--LUKE vi. 20-31.\n\nLuke condenses and Matthew expands the Sermon on the Mount. The\ngeneral outline is the same in both versions. The main body of both\nis a laying down the law for Christ's disciples. Luke, however,\ncharacteristically omits what is prominent in Matthew, the polemic\nagainst Pharisaic righteousness, and the contrast between the moral\nteaching of Christ and that of the law. These were appropriate in a\nGospel which set forth Jesus as the crown of earlier revelation,\nwhile Luke is true to the broad humanities of his Gospel, in setting\nforth rather the universal aspect of Christian duty, and gathering\nit all into the one precept of love.\n\nThe fragment which forms the present passage falls into two parts--the\ndescription of the subjects of the kingdom and their blessedness,\ncontrasted with the character of the rebels; and the summing up of\nthe law of the kingdom in the all-including commandment of love.\n\nI. The subjects and blessedness of the kingdom, and the rebels. It\nis to be well kept in view that the discourse is addressed to 'His\ndisciples.' That fact remembered would have saved some critics from\ntalking nonsense about the discrepancy between Luke and Matthew, and\nsupposing that the former meant merely literal poverty, hunger, and\ntears. No doubt he omits the decisive words which appear in Matthew,\nwho appends 'in spirit' to 'poor,' and 'after righteousness' to\n'hunger and thirst,' but there is no ground for supposing that Luke\nmeant anything else than Matthew.\n\nNotice that in our passage the sayings are directly addressed to the\ndisciples, while in Matthew they are cast into the form of general\npropositions. In that shape, the additions were needed to prevent\nmisunderstanding of Christ, as if He were talking like a vulgar\ndemagogue, flattering the poor, and inveighing against the rich.\nMatthew's view of the force of the expressions is involved in Luke's\nmaking them an address _to the disciples.,_ 'Ye poor' at once\ndeclares that our Lord is not thinking of the whole class of\nliterally needy, but of such of these as He saw willing to learn of\nHim. No doubt, the bulk of them were poor men as regards the world's\ngoods, and knew the pinch of actual want, and had often had to weep.\nBut their earthly poverty and misery had opened their hearts to\nreceive Him, and that had transmuted the outward wants and sorrows\ninto spiritual ones, as is evident from their being disciples; and\nthese are the characteristics which He pronounces blessed. In this\ndemocratic and socialistic age, it is important to keep clearly in\nview the fact that Jesus was no flatterer of poor men as such, and\ndid not think that circumstances had such power for good or evil, as\nthat virtue and true blessedness were their prerogatives.\n\nThe foundation characteristic is poverty of spirit, the\nconsciousness of one's own weakness, the opposite of the delusion\nthat we are 'rich and increased with goods.' All true subjection to\nthe kingdom begins with that accurate, because lowly, estimate of\nourselves. Humility is life, lofty mindedness is death. The heights\nare barren, rivers and fertility are down in the valleys.\n\nLuke makes hunger the second characteristic, and weeping the third,\nwhile Matthew inverts that order. Either arrangement suggests\nimportant thoughts. Desire after the true riches naturally follows\non consciousness of poverty, while, on the other hand, sorrow for\none's conscious lack of these may be regarded as preceding and\nproducing longing. In fact, the three traits of character are\ncontemporaneous, and imply each other. Outward condition comes into\nview, only in so far as it tends to the production of these\nspiritual characteristics, and has, in fact, produced them, as it\nhad done, in some measure, in the disciples. The antithetical\ncharacteristics of the adversaries of the kingdom are, in like\nmanner, mainly spiritual; and their riches, fullness, and laughter\nrefer to circumstances only in so far as actual wealth, abundance,\nand mirth tend to hide from men their inward destitution,\nstarvation, and misery.\n\nBut what paradoxes to praise all that flesh abhors, and to declare\nthat it is better to be poor than rich, better to feel gnawing\ndesire than to be satisfied, better to weep than to laugh! How\nlittle the so-called Christian world believes it! How dead against\nmost men's theory and practice Christ goes! These Beatitudes have a\nsolemn warning for all, and if we really believed them, our lives\nwould be revolutionised. The people who say, 'Give me the Sermon on\nthe Mount: I don't care for your doctrines, but I can understand\n_it,' have not felt the grip of these Beatitudes.\n\nNote that the blessings and woes are based on the future issues of\nthe two states of mind. These are not wholly in the future life, for\nJesus says, 'Yours _is_ the kingdom.' That kingdom is a state\nof obedience to God, complete in that future world, but begun here.\nTrue poverty secures entrance thither, since it leads to submission\nof will and trust. True hunger is sure of satisfaction, since it\nleads to waiting on God, who 'will fulfil the desire of them that\nfear Him.' Sorrow which is according to God, cannot but bring us\nnear Him who 'will wipe away tears from off all faces.'\n\nOn the other hand, they who in condition are prosperous and\nsatisfied with earth, and in disposition are devoid of suspicion of\ntheir own emptiness, and draw their joys and sorrows from this world\nalone, cannot but have a grim awaking waiting for them. Here they\nwill often feel that earth's goods are no solid food, and that\nnameless yearnings and sadness break in on their mirth; and in the\ndim world beyond, they will start to find their hands empty and\ntheir souls starving.\n\nThe fourth of Luke's Beatitudes contrasts the treatment received\nfrom men by the subjects and the enemies of the kingdom. Better to\nbe Christ's martyr than the world's favourite! Alas, how few\nChristians wear the armour of that great saying! They would not set\nso much store by popularity, nor be so afraid of being on the\nunpopular side, if they did.\n\nII. The second part of the passage contains the summary of the laws\nof the kingdom from the lips of the King. Its keynote is love. The\nprecept follows strikingly on the predictions of excommunication and\nhatred. The only weapon to fight hate is love. 'The hate of hate,\nthe scorn of scorn,' are not Christian dispositions, though Tennyson\ntells us that they are the poet's. So much the worse for him if they\nare! First, the commandment, so impossible to us unless our hearts\nare made Christlike by much dwelling with Christ, is laid down in\nthe plainest terms. Enmity should only stimulate love, as a gash in\nsome tree bearing precious balsam makes the fragrant treasure flow.\nWho of us has conformed to that law which in three words sums up\nperfection? How few of us have even honestly tried to conform to it!\n\nBut the command becomes more stringent as it advances. The sentiment\nis worth much, but it must bear fruit in act. So the practical\nmanifestations of it follow. Deeds of kindness, words of blessing,\nand highest of all, and the best help to fulfilling the other two,\nprayer, are to be our meek answers to evil. Why should Christians\nalways let their enemies settle the terms of intercourse? They are\nnot to be mere reverberating surfaces, giving back echoes of angry\nvoices. Let us take the initiative, and if men scowl, let us meet\nthem with open hearts and smiles. 'A soft answer turneth away\nwrath.' 'It takes two to make a quarrel.' Frost and snow bind the\nearth in chains, but the silent sunshine conquers at last, and evil\ncan be overcome with good.\n\nOur Lord goes on to speak of another form of love--namely, patient\nendurance of wrong and unreasonableness. He puts that in terms so\nstrong that many readers are fain to pare down their significance.\nNon-resistance is commanded in the most uncompromising fashion, and\nillustrated in the cases of assault, robbery, and pertinacious\nmendicancy. The world stands stiffly on its rights; the Christian is\nnot to bristle up in defence of his, but rather to suffer wrong and\nloss. This is regarded by many as an impossible ideal. But it is to\nbe observed that the principle involved is that love has no limits\nbut itself. There may be resistance to wrong, and refusal of a\nrequest, if love prompts to these. If it is better for the other man\nthat a Christian should not let him have his way or his wish, and if\nthe Christian, in resisting or refusing, is honestly actuated by\nlove, then he is fulfilling the precept when he says 'No' to some\npetition, or when he resists robbery. We must live near Jesus Christ\nto know when such limitations of the precept come in, and to make\nsure of our motives.\n\nThe world and the Church would be revolutionised if even approximate\nobedience were rendered to this commandment. Let us not forget that\nit _is_ a commandment, and cannot be put aside without disloyalty.\n\nChrist then crystallises His whole teaching on the subject of our\nconduct to others into the immortal words which make our wishes for\nourselves the standard of our duty to others, and so give every man\nan infallible guide. We are all disposed to claim more from others\nthan we give to them. What a paradise earth would be if the two\nmeasuring-lines which we apply to their conduct and to our own were\nexactly of the same length!\n\n\n\n\nTHREE CONDENSED PARABLES\n\n\n    'And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy\n    brother's eye, but perceiveth not the beam that is in\n    thine own eye? 42. Either, how canst thou say to thy\n    brother, Brother, let me pull out the mote that is in\n    thine eye, when thou thyself beholdest not the beam\n    that is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite, cast out\n    first the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt\n    thou see clearly to pull out the mote that is in thy\n    brother's eye. 43. For a good tree bringeth not forth\n    corrupt fruit; neither doth a corrupt tree bring forth\n    good fruit. 44. For every tree is known by his own\n    fruit: for of thorns men do not gather figs, nor of a\n    bramble-bush gather they grapes. 45. A good man, out\n    of the good treasure of his heart, bringeth forth that\n    which is good; and an evil man, out of the evil\n    treasure of his heart, bringeth forth that which is\n    evil; for of the abundance of the heart his mouth\n    speaketh, 46. And why call ye Me, Lord, Lord, and do\n    not the things which I say? 47. Whosoever cometh to\n    Me, and heareth My sayings, and doeth them, I will\n    shew you to whom he is like: 48. He is like a man\n    which built an house, and digged deep, and laid the\n    foundation on a rock: and when the flood arose, the\n    stream beat vehemently upon that house, and could not\n    shake it; for it was founded upon a rock. 49. But he\n    that heareth, and doeth not, is like a man that,\n    without a foundation, built an house upon the earth;\n    against which the stream did beat vehemently, and\n    immediately it fell; and the ruin of that house was\n    great.'--LUKE vi. 41-49.\n\nThree extended metaphors, which may almost be called parables, close\nLuke's version of the Sermon on the Mount, and constitute this\npassage. These are the mote and the beam, the good and bad trees,\nthe houses on the rock and on the sand. Matthew puts the first of\nthese earlier in the sermon, and connects it with other precepts\nabout judging others. But whichever order is the original, that\nadopted by Luke has a clear connection of thought underlying it\nwhich will come out as we proceed.\n\nI. The striking and somewhat ludicrous image of the beam and the\nmote is found in Rabbinical writings, and may have been familiar to\nChrist's hearers. But His use of it is deeper and more searching\nthan the rabbis' was. He has just been speaking of blind guides and\ntheir blind followers. That 'parable,' as Luke calls it, naturally\nimages another defect which may attach to the eye. A man may be\npartly blind because some foreign body has got in. If we might\nsuppose a tacit reference to the Pharisees in the blind guides,\ntheir self-complacent censoriousness would be in view here; but the\napplication of the saying is much wider than to them only.\n\nVerse 41 teaches that the accurate measurement of the magnitude of\nour own failings should precede our detection of our brother's.\nChrist assumes the commonness of the opposite practice by asking\n'why' it is so. And we have all to admit that the assumption is\ncorrect. The keenness of men's criticism of their neighbour's faults\nis in inverse proportion to their familiarity with their own. It is\nno unusual thing to hear some one, bedaubed with dirt from head to\nfoot, declaiming with disgust about a speck or two on his\nneighbour's white robes.\n\nSatan reproving sin is not an edifying sight, but Satan criticising\nsin is still less agreeable. If only 'he that is without sin among\nyou' would fling stones, there would be fewer reputations pelted\nthan there are. Most men know less about their own faults than about\ntheir brother's. They use two pairs of spectacles--one which\ndiminishes, and is put on for looking at themselves; one which\nmagnifies, and is worn for their neighbour's benefit. But when their\nrespective good qualities are to be looked at, the other pair is\nused in each case. That is men's way, all the world over.\n\nChrist's question asks the reason for this all but universal\ndishonesty of having two weights and measures for faults. He would\nhave us ponder on the cause, that we may discover the remedy. He\nwould have us reflect, that we may get a vivid conviction of the\nunreasonableness of the practice. There is nothing in the fact that\na fault is mine which should make it small in my judgment; nor, on\nthe other hand, in the accident that it is another's, which should\nmake it seem large. A fault is a fault, whoever it belongs to, and\nwe should judge ourselves and others by the same rule. Only we\nshould be most severe in its application to ourselves, for we cannot\ntell how much our brother has had, to diminish the criminality of\nhis sin, and we can tell, if we will be honest, how much we have\nhad, to aggravate that of ours. So the conscience of a true\nChristian works as Paul's did when he said 'Of whom I am chief,' and\nis more disposed to make its own motes into beams than to censure\nits brother's.\n\nThe reason, so far as there is a reason, can only lie in our\ndiseased selfishness, which is the source of all sin. And the\nblindness to our 'beams' is partly produced by their very presence.\nAll sin blinds conscience. A man with a beam in his eye would not be\nable to see much. One device of sin, practised in order to withdraw\nthe doer's attention from his own deed, is to make him censorious of\nhis fellows, and to compound for the sins he is inclined to by\ncondemning other people's.\n\nVerse 42 teaches that the conquest of our own discovered evils must\nprecede efficient attempts to cure other people's. To pose as a\ncurer of them while we are ignorant of our own faults is,\nconsciously or unconsciously, hypocrisy, for it assumes a hatred of\nevil, which, if genuine, would have found first a field for its\nworking in ourselves. An oculist with diseased eyes would not be\nlikely to be a successful operator. 'Physician, heal thyself' would\nfit him well, and be certainly flung at him. A cleansed eye will\nsee the brother's mote clearly, but only in order to help its\nextraction. It is a delicate bit of work to get it out, and needs a\ngentle hand.\n\nOur discernment of others' faults must be compassionate, not to be\nfollowed by condemnation nor self-complacency but by loving efforts\nto help to a cure. And such will not be made unless we have learned\nour own sinfulness, and can go to the wrongdoer in brotherly\nhumility, and win him to use the 'eye-salve' which our conduct shows\nhas healed us.\n\nII. The second compressed parable of the two trees springs from the\nformer naturally, as stating the general law of which verse 42 gives\none case, namely, that good deeds (such as casting out the mote) can\nonly come from a good heart (made good by confession of its own\nevils and their ejection). It is often said that Christ's teaching\nis unlike that of His Apostles in that He places stress on works,\nand says little of faith. But how does He regard works? As fruits.\nThat is to say, they are of value in His eyes only as being products\nand manifestations of character. He does not tell us in this parable\nhow the character which will effloresce in blossoms and set in\nfruits of goodness is produced. That comes in the next parable. But\nhere is sufficiently set forth the great central truth of Christian\nethics that the inward disposition is the all-important thing, and\nthat deeds are determined as to their moral quality by the character\nfrom which they have proceeded.\n\nOur actions are our self-revelations. The words are not to be\npressed, as if they taught the entire goodness of one class of men,\nso that all their acts were products of their good character, nor\nthe unmingled evil of another, so that no good of any kind or in any\ndegree is in them or comes from them. They must be read as embodying\na general truth which is not as yet fully exemplified in any\ncharacter or conduct.\n\nIn verse 45 the same idea is presented under a different figure--that\nof a wealthy man who brings his possessions out of his store-house.\nThe application of the figure is significantly varied so as to include\nthe other great department of human activity. Speech is act. It, too,\nwill be according to the cast of the inner life. Of course, feigned\nspeech of all sorts is not in view. The lazy judgment of men thinks\nless of words than of deeds. Christ always attaches supreme importance\nto them. Intentional lying being excluded, speech is an even more\ncomplete self-revelation than act. When one thinks of the floods of\nfoul or idle or malicious talk which half drown the world as being\nrevelations of the sort of hearts from which they have gushed, one\nis appalled. What a black, seething fountain that must be which\nspurts up such inky waters!\n\nIII. The third parable, of the two houses, shows in part how hearts may\nbe made 'good.' It is attached to the preceding by verse 46. Speech\ndoes not always come from 'the abundance of the heart.' Many call Him\nLord who do not act accordingly. Deeds must confirm words. If the two\ndiverge, the latter must be taken as the credible self-revelation. Now\nthe first noticeable thing here is Christ's bold assumption that His\nwords are a rock foundation for any life. He claims to give an absolute\nand all-sufficient rule of conduct, and to have the right to command\nevery man.\n\nAnd people read such words and then talk about their Christianity\nnot being the belief of His divinity, but the practice of the Sermon\non the Mount! His words are the foundation for every firm, lasting\nlife. They are the basis of all true thought about God, ourselves,\nour duties, our future. 'That rock was Christ.' Every other\nfoundation is as sand. Unless we build on Him, we build on\nchangeable inclinations, short-lived desires, transitory aims,\nevanescent circumstances. Only the Christ who ever liveth, and is\never 'the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever,' is fit to be\nthe foundation of lives that are to be immortal.\n\nNote the two houses built on the foundations. The metaphor suggests\nthat each life is a whole with a definite character. Alas, how many\nof our lives are liker a heap of stones tilted at random out of a cart\nthan a house with a plan. But there is a character stamped on every\nlife, and however the man may have lived from hand to mouth without\npremeditation, the result has a character of its own, be it temple\nor pig-sty. Each life, too, is built up by slow labour, course by\ncourse. Our deeds become our dwelling-places. Like coral-insects, we\nlive in what we build. Memory, habit, ever-springing consequences,\nshape by slow degrees our isolated actions into our abodes. What do\nwe build?\n\nOne storm tries both houses. That may refer to the common trials of\nevery life, but it is best taken as referring to the future\njudgment, when God 'will lay judgment to the line, and righteousness\nto the plummet';  and whatever cannot stand that test will be\nswept away. Who would run up a flimsy structure on some windy\nheadland in northern seas? The lighthouses away out in ocean are\nfirmly bonded into living rock. Unless our lives are thus built on\nand into Christ, they will collapse into a heap of ruin. 'Behold I\nlay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious\ncorner stone, a sure foundation: he that believeth shall not make\nhaste.'\n\n\n\n\nWORTHY-NOT WORTHY\n\n\n    '... They besought Him ... saying, That he was worthy\n    for whom He should do this:... 6. I am not worthy that\n    Thou shouldest enter under my roof: 7. Wherefore\n    neither thought I myself worthy to come unto Thee....'\n    --LUKE vii. 4. 6. 7.\n\nA Roman centurion, who could induce the elders of a Jewish village\nto approach Jesus on his behalf, must have been a remarkable person.\nThe garrison which held down a turbulent people was not usually\nlikely to be much loved by them. But this man, about whom the\nincident with which our texts are connected is related, was\nobviously one of the people of whom that restless age had many, who\nhad found out that his creed was outworn, and who had been drawn to\nJudaism by its lofty monotheism and its austere morality. He had\ngone so far as to build a synagogue, and thereby, no doubt, incurred\nthe ridicule of his companions, and perhaps the suspicions of his\nsuperiors. What would the English authorities think of an Indian\ndistrict officer that conformed to Buddhism or Brahminism, and built\na temple? That is what the Roman officials would think of our\ncenturion. And there were other beautiful traits in his character.\nHe had a servant 'that was dear to him.' It was not only the nexus\nof master and servant and cash payments that bound these two\ntogether. And very beautiful is this story, when he himself speaks\nabout this servant. He does not use the rough word which implies a\nbondservant, and which is employed throughout the whole of the rest\nof the narrative, but a much gentler one, and speaks of him as his\n'boy.' So he had won the hearts of these elders so far as to make\nthem swallow their dislike to Jesus, and deign to go to Him with a\nrequest which implied His powers at which at all other times they\nscoffed.\n\nNow, we owe to Luke the details which show us that there was a\ndouble deputation to our Lord--the first which approached Him to ask\nHis intervention, and the second which the centurion sent when he\nsaw the little group coming towards his house, and a fresh gush of\nawe rose in his heart. The elders said, 'He is worthy'; he said, 'I\nam not worthy.' The verbal resemblance is, indeed, not so close in\nthe original as in our versions, for the literal rendering of the\nwords put into the centurion's mouth is 'not fit.' But still the\nevident antithesis is preserved: the one saying expresses the\nfavourable view that partial outsiders took of the man, the other\ngives the truer view that the man took of himself. And so, putting\naway the story altogether, we may set these two verdicts side by\nside, as suggesting wider lessons than those which arise from the\nnarrative itself.\n\nI. And, first, we have here the shallow plea of worthiness.\n\nThese elders did not think loftily of Jesus Christ. The conception\nthat we have of Him goes a long way to settle whether it is possible\nor not for us to approach Him with the word 'worthy' on our lips.\nThe higher we lift our thought of Christ, the lower becomes our\nthought of ourselves. These elders saw the centurion from the\noutside, and estimated him accordingly. There is no more frequent,\nthere is no more unprofitable and impossible occupation, than that\nof trying to estimate other people's characters. Yet there are few\nthings that we are so fond of doing. Half our conversation consists\nof it, and a very large part of what we call literature consists of\nit; and it is bound to be always wrong, whether it is eulogistic or\ncondemnatory, because it only deals with the surface.\n\nHere we have the shallow plea advanced by these elders in reference\nto the centurion which corresponds to the equally shallow plea that\nsome of us are tempted to advance in reference to ourselves. The\ndisposition to do so is in us all. Luther said that every man was\nborn with a Pope in his belly. Every man is born with a Pharisee in\nhimself, who thinks that religion is a matter of barter, that it is\nso much work, buying so much favour here, or heaven hereafter.\nWherever you look, you see the working of that tendency. It is the\nvery mainspring of heathenism, with all its penances and\nperformances. It is enshrined in the heart of Roman Catholicism,\nwith its dreams of a treasury of merits, and works of supererogation\nand the like. Ay! and it has passed over into a great deal of what\ncalls itself Evangelical Protestantism, which thinks that, somehow\nor other, it is all for our good to come here, for instance on a\nSunday, though we have no desire to come and no true worship in us\nwhen we have come, and to do a great many things that we would much\nrather not do, and to abstain from a great many things that we are\nstrongly inclined to, and all with the notion that we have to bring\nsome 'worthiness' in order to move Jesus Christ to deal graciously\nwith us.\n\nAnd then notice that the religion of barter, which thinks to earn\nGod's favour by deeds, and is, alas! the only religion of\nmultitudes, and subtly mingles with the thoughts of all, tends to\nlay the main stress on the mere external arts of cult and ritual.\n'He loveth our nation, and hath built us a synagogue'; not, 'He is\ngentle, good, Godlike.' 'He has built a synagogue.' That is the type\nof work which most people who fall into the notion that heaven is to\nbe bought, offer as the price. I have no doubt that there are many\npeople who have never caught a glimpse of any loftier conception than\nthat, and who, when they think--which they do not often do--about\nreligious subjects at all, are saying to themselves, 'I do as well\nas I can,' and who thus bring in some vague thought of the mercy of\nGod as a kind of make-weight to help out what of their own they put\nin the scale. Ah, dear brethren! that is a wearying, an endless, a\nself-torturing, an imprisoning, an enervating thought, and the plea\nof 'worthiness' is utterly out of place and unsustainable before God.\n\nII. Now let me turn to the deeper conviction which silences that\nplea.\n\n'I am not worthy that Thou shouldest enter under my roof, wherefore\nneither thought I myself worthy to come unto Thee.' This man had a\nloftier conception of who and what Christ was than the elders had.\nTo them He was only one of themselves, perhaps endowed with some\nkind of prophetic power, but still one of themselves. The centurion\nhad pondered over the mystic power of the word of command, as he\nknew it by experience in the legion, or in the little troop of which\nhe, though a man under the authority of his higher officers, was the\ncommander; and he knew that even his limited power carried with it\nabsolute authority and compelled obedience. And he had looked at\nChrist, and wondered, and thought, and had come at last to a dim\napprehension of that great truth that, somehow or other, in this Man\nthere did lie a power which, by the mere utterance of His will,\ncould affect matter, could raise the dead, could still a storm,\ncould banish disease, could quell devils. He did not formulate his\nbelief, he could not have said exactly what it led to, or what it\ncontained, but he felt that there was something divine about Him.\nAnd so, seeing, though it was but through mists, the sight of that\ngreat perfection, that divine humanity and human divinity, he bowed\nhimself and said, 'Lord! I am not worthy.'\n\nWhen you see Christ as He is, and give Him the honour due to His\nname, all notions of desert will vanish utterly.\n\nFurther, the centurion saw himself from the inside, and that makes\nall the difference. Ah, brethren! most of us know our own characters\njust as little as we know our own faces, and find it as difficult to\nform a just estimate of what the hidden man of the heart looks like\nas we find it impossible to form a just estimate of what we look to\nother people as we walk down the street. But if we once turned the\nsearchlight upon ourselves, I do not think that any of us would long\nbe able to stand by that plea, 'I am worthy.' Have you ever been on\na tour of discovery, like what they go through at the Houses of\nParliament on the first day of each session, down into the cellars\nto see what stores of explosive material, and what villains to fire\nit, may be lurking there? If you have once seen yourself as you are,\nand take into account, not only actions but base tendencies, foul,\nevil thoughts, imagined sins of the flesh, meannesses and basenesses\nthat never have come to the surface, but which you know are bits of\nyou, I do not think that you will have much more to say about 'I am\nworthy.' The flashing waters of the sea may be all blazing in the\nsunshine, but if they were drained off, what a frightful sight the\nmud and the ooze at the bottom would be! Others look at the dancing,\nglittering surface, but you, if you are a wise man, will go down in\nthe diving-bell sometimes, and for a while stop there at the bottom,\nand turn a bull's-eye straight upon all the slimy, crawling things\nthat are there, and that would die if they came into the light.\n\n'I am not worthy that Thou shouldest enter under my roof.' But then,\nas I have said, most of us are strangers to ourselves. The very fact\nof a course of action which, in other people, we should describe\nwith severe condemnation, being ours, bribes us to indulgence and\nlenient judgment. Familiarity, too, weakens our sense of the\nfoulness of our own evils. If you have been in the Black Hole all\nnight, you do not know how vitiated the atmosphere is. You have to\ncome out into the fresh air to find out that. We look at the errors\nof others through a microscope; we look at our own through the wrong\nend of the telescope; and the one set, when we are in a cynical\nhumour, seem bigger than they are; and the other set always seem\nsmaller.\n\nNow, that clear consciousness of my own sinfulness ought to underlie\nall my religious feelings and thoughts. I believe, for my part, that\nno man is in a position to apprehend Christianity rightly who has\nnot made the acquaintance of his own bad self. And I trace a very\nlarge proportion of the shallow Christianity of this day as well as\nof the disproportion in which its various truths are set forth, and\nthe rising of crops of erroneous conceptions just to this, that this\ngeneration has to a large extent lost--no, do not let me say this\ngeneration, _you and I_--have to a large extent lost, that\nwholesome consciousness of our own unworthiness and sin.\n\nBut on the other hand, let me remind you that the centurion's deeper\nconviction is not yet the deepest of all, and that whilst the\nChristianity which ignores sin is sure to be impotent, on the other\nhand the Christianity which sees very little but sin is bondage and\nmisery, and is impotent too. And there are many of us whose type of\nreligion is far gloomier than it should be, and whose motive of\nservice is far more servile than it ought to be, just because we\nhave not got beyond the centurion, and can only say, 'I am not\nworthy; I am a poor, miserable sinner.'\n\nIII. And so I come to the third point, which is not in my text, but\nwhich both my texts converge upon, and that is the deepest truth of\nall, that worthiness or unworthiness has nothing to do with Christ's\nlove.\n\nWhen these elders interceded with Jesus, He at once rose and went\nwith them, and that not because of their intercession or of the\ncertificate of character which they had given, but because His own\nloving heart impelled Him to go to any soul that sought His help. So\nwe are led away from all anxious questionings as to whether we are\nworthy or no, and learn that, far above all thoughts either of undue\nself-complacency or of undue self-depreciation, lies the motive for\nChrist's gracious and healing approach in\n\n  'His ceaseless, unexhausted love,\n  Unmerited and free.'\n\nThis is the truth to which the consciousness of sinfulness and\nunworthiness points us all, for which that consciousness prepares\nus, in which that consciousness does not melt away, but rather is\nincreased and ceases to be any longer a burden or a pain. Here,\nthen, we come to the very bed-rock of everything, for\n\n  'Merit lives from man to man,\n  But not from man, O Lord, to Thee.'\n\nJesus Christ comes to us, not drawn by our deserts, but impelled by\nHis own love, and that love pours itself out upon each of us. So we\ndo not need painfully to amass a store of worthiness, nor to pile up\nour own works, by which we may climb to heaven. 'Say not, who shall\nascend up into heaven,' to bring Christ down again, 'but the word is\nnigh thee, that if thou wilt believe with thine heart, thou shalt be\nsaved.' Worthiness or unworthiness is to be swept clean out of the\nfield, and I am to be content to be a pauper, to owe everything to\nwhat I have done nothing to procure, and to cast myself on the sole,\nall-sufficient mercy of God in Jesus Christ our Lord.\n\nAnd then comes liberty, and then comes joy. If the gift is given\nfrom no consideration of men's deserts, then the only thing that men\nhave to do is to exercise the faith that takes it. As the Apostle\nsays in words that sound very hard and technical, but which, if you\nwould only ponder them, are throbbing with vitality, 'It is of faith\nthat it might be by grace.' Since He gives simply because He loves,\nthe only requisites are the knowledge of our need, the will to\nreceive, the trust that, in clasping the Giver, possesses the gift.\n\nThe consciousness of unworthiness will be deepened. The more we know\nourselves to be sinful, the more we shall cleave to Christ, and the\nmore we cleave to Christ, the more we shall know ourselves to be\nsinful. Peter caught a glimpse of what Jesus was when he sat in the\nboat, and he said, 'Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!'\nBut Peter saw both himself and his Lord more clearly, that is more\ntruly, when, subsequent to his black treachery, his brother Apostle\nsaid to him concerning the figure standing on the beach in the grey\nmorning, 'It is the Lord,' and he flung himself over the side and\nfloundered through the water to get to his Master's feet. For that\nis the place for the man who knows himself unworthy. The more we are\nconscious of our sin, the closer let us cling to our Lord's\nforgiving heart, and the more sure we are that we have that love\nwhich we have not earned, the more shall we feel how unworthy of it\nwe are. As one of the prophets says, with profound meaning, 'Thou\nshalt be ashamed and confounded, and never open thy mouth any more\nbecause of thy transgression, when I am pacified towards thee for\nall that thou hast done.' The child buries its face on its mother's\nbreast, and feels its fault the more because the loving arms clasp\nit close.\n\nAnd so, dear brethren, deepen your convictions, if you are deluded\nby that notion of merit; deepen your convictions, if you see your\nown evil so clearly that you see little else. Come into the light,\ncome into the liberty, rise to that great thought, 'Not by works of\nrighteousness which we have done, but by His mercy He saved us.'\nHave done with the religion of barter, and come to the religion of\nundeserved grace. If you are going to stop on the commercial level,\n'the wages of sin is death'; rise to the higher ground: 'the gift of\nGod is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.'\n\n\n\n\nJESUS AT THE BIER\n\n\n    'And when the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her,\n    and said unto her, Weep not. 14. And He came and\n    touched the bier: and they that bare him stood still.\n    And He said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise.\n    15. And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak.\n    And He delivered him to his mother.'--LUKE vii. 13-15.\n\nWe owe our knowledge of this incident to Luke only. He is the\nEvangelist who specially delights in recording the gracious\nrelations of our Lord with women, and he is also the Evangelist who\ndelights in telling us of unasked miracles which Christ performed.\nBoth of these characteristics unite in this story, and it may have\nbeen these, rather than the fact of its being a narrative of a\nresurrection, that found for it a place in this Gospel.\n\nBe that as it may, it is obvious to remark that this miracle was not\nwrought with any intention of establishing Christ's claims thereby.\nIts motive was simply pity; its purpose was merely to comfort a\ndesolate woman whose hope and love and defence were lying stretched\non her boy's bier. Was that a sufficient reason for a miracle?\nPeople tell us that a test of a spurious miracle is that it is done\nwithout any adequate purpose to be served. Jesus Christ thought that\nto comfort one poor, sorrowful heart was reason enough for putting\nHis hand out, and dragging the prey from the very jaws of death, so\nloftily did He think of human sorrow and of the comforting thereof.\n\nNow I think we unduly limit the meaning of our Lord's miracles when we\nregard them as specially intended to authenticate His claims. They are\nnot merely the evidences of revelation; they are themselves a large\npart of revelation. My purpose in this sermon is to look at this\nincident from that one point of view, and to try to set clearly before\nour minds what it shows us of the character and work of Jesus Christ.\nAnd there are three things on which I desire to touch briefly. We have\nHim here revealed to us as the compassionate Drier of all tears; the\nlife-giving Antagonist of death; and as the Re-uniter of parted hearts.\n\nNote, then, these three things.\n\nI. First of all, look at that wonderful revelation that lies here of\nJesus Christ as the compassionate Drier of all tears.\n\nThe poor woman, buried in her grief, with her eyes fixed on the\nbier, has no thought for the little crowd that came up the rocky\nroad, as she and her friends are hurrying down it to the place of\ngraves. She was a stranger to Christ, and Christ a stranger to her.\nThe last thing that she would have thought of would have been\neliciting any compassion from those who thus fortuitously met her on\nher sad errand. But Christ looks, and His eye sees far more deeply\nand far more tenderly into the sorrow of the desolate, childless\nwidow than any human eyes looked. And as swift as was His perception\nof the sorrow, so swiftly does He throw Himself into sympathy with\nit. The true human emotion of unmingled pity wells up in His heart\nand moves Him to action.\n\nAnd just because the manhood was perfect and sinless, therefore the\nsympathy of Christ was deeper than any human sympathy, howsoever\ntender it may be; for what unfits us to feel compassion is our\nabsorption with ourselves. That makes our hearts hard and\ninsensitive, and is the true, 'witches' mark'--to recur to the old\nfable--the spot where no external pressure can produce sensation.\nThe ossified heart of the selfish man is closed against divine\ncompassion. Since Jesus Christ forgot Himself in pitying men, and\nHimself 'took our infirmities and bare our sicknesses,' He must have\nbeen what none of us are--free from all taint of selfishness, and\nfrom all insensibility born of sin.\n\nBut there is another step to be taken. That pitying Christ, on the\nrocky road outside the little Galilean village, feeling all the pain\nand sorrow of the lonely mother--that is God! 'Lo! this is our God;\nand we have waited for Him.' Ay! waited through all the\nuncompassionating centuries, waited in the presence of the false\ngods, waited whilst men have been talking about an impassive Deity\ncareless in the heavens, over whose serene blessedness no shadow can\never pass. This is our God. No impassive monster that no man can\nlove or care for, but a God with a heart, a God that can pity, a God\nwho, wonderful as it is, can and does enter, in the humanity of\nJesus Christ, into a fellow-feeling of our infirmities.\n\nIf Jesus Christ in His pity was only a perfect and lovely example of\nunselfish sympathy such as man can exercise, what in the name of\ncommon-sense does it matter to me how much, or how tenderly, He\npitied those past generations? The showers and the sunshine of this\nsummer will do as much good to the springing corn in the fields to-day\nas the pity of a dead, human Christ will do for you and me. In our\nweaknesses, in our sorrows great and small, in our troubles and\nannoyances, you and I need, dear brethren, a living Jesus to pity\nus, there in the heavens, just as He pitied that poor woman outside\nthe gate of Nain. Blessed be God!, we have Him. The human Christ is\nthe manifestation of the Divine, and as we listen to the Evangelist\nthat says, 'When He saw her He had compassion upon her,' we bow our\nheads and feel that the old psalmist spoke a truth when He said,\n'His compassions fail not,' and that the old prophet spoke a truth,\nthe depth of which his experience did not enable him to fathom, when\nhe said that 'in all their afflictions He was afflicted.'\n\nThen, note that the pitying Christ dries the tears before He raises\nthe dead. That is beautiful, I think. 'Weep not,' He says to the\nwoman--a kind of a prophecy that He is going to take away the\noccasion for weeping; and so He calls lovingly upon her for some\nmovement of hope and confidence towards Himself. With what an\nineffable sweetness of cadence in His sympathetic voice these words\nwould be spoken! How often, kindly and vainly, men say to one\nanother, 'Weep not,' when they are utterly powerless to take away or\nin the smallest degree to diminish the occasion for weeping! And how\noften, unkindly, in mistaken endeavour to bring about resignation\nand submission, do well-meaning and erring good people say to\nmourners in the passion of their sorrow, 'Weep not!' Jesus Christ\nnever dammed back tears when tears were wholesome, and would bring\nblessing. And Jesus Christ never said, 'Dry your tears,' without\nstretching out His own hand to do it.\n\nHow does He do it? First of all by the assurance of His sympathy.\nAh! in that word there came a message to the lonely heart, as there\ncomes a message, dear brethren, to any man or woman among us now who\nmay be fighting with griefs and cares or sorrows, great or small--the\nassurance that Jesus Christ knows all about your pain and will help\nyou to bear it if you will let Him. The sweet consciousness of\nChrist's sympathy is the true antidote to excessive grief.\n\nAnd He dries the tears, not only by the assurance of His sympathy,\nbut by encouraging expectation and hope. When He said, 'Weep not,'\nHe was pledging Himself to do what was needed in order to stay the\nflow of weeping. And He would encourage us, in the midst of our\ncares and sorrows and loneliness, not indeed to suppress the natural\nemotion of sorrow, nor to try after a fantastic and unreal\nsuppression of its wholesome signs, but to weep as though we wept\nnot, because beyond the darkness and the dreariness we see the\nglimmering of the eternal day. He encourages expectation as the\nantagonist of sorrow, for the curse of sorrow is that it is ever\nlooking backwards, and the true attitude for all men who have an\nimmortal Christ to trust, and an immortality for themselves to\nclaim, is that not 'backward' should their 'glances be, but forward\nto their Father's home.' These are the thoughts that dry our tears,\nthe assurance of the sympathy of Christ, and the joyous expectation\nof a great good to be ours, where beyond those voices there is\npeace.\n\nBrother! it may be with all of us--for all of us carry some burden\nof sorrow or care--as it is with the hedgerows and wet ploughed\nfields to-day; on every spray hangs a raindrop, and in every\nraindrop gleams a reflected sun. And so all our tears and sorrows\nmay flash into beauty, and sparkle into rainbowed light if the smile\nof His face falls upon us.\n\nAnd then, still further, this pitying Christ is moved by His pity to\nbring unasked gifts. No petition, no expectation, not the least\ntrace of faith or hope drew from Him this mighty miracle. It came\nwelling up from His own heart. And therein it is of a piece with all\nHis work. For the divine love of which Christ is the Bearer, the\nAgent, and the Channel for us men, 'tarries not for men, nor waiteth\nfor the sons of men,' but before we ask, delights to bestow itself,\nand gives that which no man ever sought, even the miracles of the\nIncarnation and Crucifixion of Jesus Christ our Lord. If heaven had\nwaited until men's prayers had forced its gates ere it sent forth\nits greatest gift, it had waited for ever, and all mankind had\nperished. God's love flows out of its own expansive and diffusive\nnature. Its necessity is to impart itself, and its nature and\nproperty is to give. A measureless desire to bestow itself, and in\nitself all good, is the definition of the love of God. And Christ\ncomes 'to the unthankful and to the evil,' bringing a gift which\nnone of us have asked, and giving as much of Himself as He can give,\nundesired, to every heart, that thereby we may be led to desire\nthese better gifts which cannot be bestowed unless we seek them.\n\nSo here we have the compassion of the human Christ, which is the\ndivine compassion, drying all tears and giving unasked blessings.\n\nII. Note, secondly, the further revelation of our Lord here as being\nthe life-giving Antagonist of Death.\n\nThere is something exceedingly picturesque, and if I might use the\nword, dramatic, in the meeting of these two processions outside the\ncity gate, the little crowd of mourners hurrying, according to the\nEastern fashion, down the hill to the place of tombs, and the other\nlittle group toiling up the hill to the city. There Life and Death\nstand face to face. Jesus Christ puts out His hand, and lays it upon\nthe bier, not to communicate anything, but simply to arrest its\nprogress. Is it not a parable of His work in the world? His great\nwork is to stop the triumphant march of Death--that grim power which\nbroods like a thundercloud over humanity, and sucks up all\nbrightness into its ghastly folds, and silences all song. He comes\nand says 'Stop'; and it stands fixed upon the spot. He arrests the\nmarch of Death. Not indeed that He touches the mere physical fact.\nThe physical fact is not what men mean by death. It is not what they\ncower before. What the world shrinks from is the physical fact plus\nits associations, its dim forebodings, its recoilings from the\nunknown regions into which the soul goes from out of 'the warm\nprecincts of the cheerful day,' and plus the possibilities of\nretribution, the certainty of judgment. All these Christ sweeps\naway, so that we may say, 'He hath abolished Death,' even though we\nall have to pass through the mere externals of dying, for the dread\nof Death is gone for ever, if we trust Him.\n\nAnd then note, still further, we have Christ here as the Life-giver.\n'Young man, I say unto thee, Arise!'\n\nChrist took various methods of imparting His miraculous power. These\nmethods varied, as it would appear, according to the religious\nnecessities of the subjects or beholders of the miracle. Sometimes\nHe touched, sometimes He employed still more material vehicles, such\nas the clay with which He moistened the eyes of the blind man, and\nthe spittle with which He touched the ears of the deaf. But all\nthese various methods were but helps to feeble faith, and in the\ncase of all the raisings from the dead it is the voice alone that is\nemployed.\n\nSo, then, what is the meaning of that majestic 'I say unto thee,\nArise'? He claims to work by His own power. Unless Jesus Christ\nwielded divine authority in a fashion in which no mere human\nrepresentative and messenger of God ever has wielded it, for Him to\nstand by that bier and utter, 'I say unto thee, Arise!' was neither\nmore nor less than blasphemy. And yet the word had force. He assumed\nto act by His own power, and the event showed that He assumed not\ntoo much. 'The Son quickeneth whom He will.'\n\nFurther, He acts by His bare word. So He did on many other\noccasions--rebuking the fever and it departs, speaking to the wind\nand it ceases, calling to the dead and they come forth. And who is\nHe, the bare utterance of whose will is supreme, and has power over\nmaterial things? Let that centurion whose creed is given to us in\nthe earlier portion of this chapter answer the question. 'I say to\nmy servant, Go! and he goeth; Come! and he cometh; Do this! and he\ndoeth it. Speak Thou, and all the embattled forces of the universe\nwill obey Thine autocratic and sovereign behest,' they 'hearken to\nHis commandments, and do the voice of His word.'\n\nThen note, still further, that this voice of Christ's has power in\nthe regions of the dead. Wherever that young man was, he heard; in\nwhatsoever state or condition he was, his personality felt and\nobeyed the magnetic force of Christ's will. The fact that the Lord\nspake and the boy heard, disposes, if it be true, of much error, and\nclears away much darkness. Then the separation of body and soul\n_is_ a separation and not a destruction. Then consciousness is\nnot a function of the brain, as they tell us. Then man lives wholly\nafter he is dead. Then it is possible for the spirit to come out of\nsome dim region, where we know not, in what condition we know not.\nOnly this we know--that, wherever it is, Christ's will has authority\nthere; and there, too, is obedience to His commandment.\n\nAnd so let me remind you that this Voice is not only revealing as to\nChrist's authority and power, and illuminative as to the condition\nof the disembodied dead, but it is also prophetic as to the future.\nIt tells us that there is nothing impossible or unnatural in that\ngreat assurance. 'The hour is coming when they that are in the\ngraves shall hear His voice, and shall come forth.' There shall be\nfor the dead a reunion with a body, which will bring men again into\nconnection with an external universe, and be the precursor of a\nfuller judgment and an intenser retribution.\n\nBrethren, that Voice that raised one poor bewildered boy to sit up\non his bier, and begin to speak--broken exclamations possibly, and\nstammering words of astonishment--shall be flung, like a trumpet\nthat scatters marvellous sounds, through the sepulchres of the\nnations and compel all to stand before the throne. You and I will\nhear it; let us be ready for it.\n\nIII. So, lastly, we have here the revelation of our Lord as the\nReuniter of parted hearts.\n\nThat is a wonderfully beautiful touch, evidently coming from an\neye-witness--'He delivered him to his mother.' That was what it had\nall been done for. The mighty miracle was wrought that that poor\nweeping woman might be comforted.\n\nMay we not go a step further? May we not say, If Jesus Christ was so\nmindful of the needs of a sorrowful solitary soul here upon earth, will\nHe be less mindful of the enduring needs of loving hearts yonder in the\nheavens? If He raised this boy from the dead that his mother's arms\nmight twine round him again, and his mother's heart be comforted, will\nHe not in that great Resurrection give back dear ones to empty,\noutstretched arms, and thereby quiet hungry hearts? It is impossible\nto suppose that, continuing ourselves, we should be deprived of our\nloves. These are too deeply engrained and enwrought into the very\ntexture of our being for that to be possible. And it is as impossible\nthat, in the great day and blessed world where all lost treasures are\nfound, hearts that have been sad and solitary here for many a day\nshall not clasp again the souls of their souls--'and with God be the\nrest.'\n\nSo, though we know very little, surely we may take the comfort of\nsuch a thought as this, which should be very blessed and sweet to\nsome of us, and with some assurance of hope may feel that the risen\nboy at the gate of Nain was not the last lost one whom Christ, with\na smile, will deliver to the hearts that mourn for them, and there\nwe 'shall clasp inseparable hands with joy and bliss in over-measure\nfor ever.' 'And so shall we'--they and I, for that is what _we_\nmeans--' so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one\nanother with these words.'\n\n\n\n\nJOHN'S DOUBTS AND CHRIST'S PRAISE\n\n\n    'And the disciples of John shewed him of all these\n    things. 19. And John calling unto him two of his\n    disciples, sent them to Jesus, saying, Art thou He\n    that should come? or look we for another? 20. When\n    the men were come unto Him, they said, John Baptist\n    hath sent us unto Thee, saying, Art Thou He that\n    should come? or look we for another? 21. And in the\n    same hour He cured many of their infirmities and\n    plagues, and of evil spirits; and unto many that were\n    blind He gave sight. 22. Then Jesus, answering, said\n    unto them, Go your way, and tell John what things ye\n    have seen and heard; how that the blind see, the lame\n    walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead\n    are raised, to the poor the gospel is preached.\n    23. And blessed is be, whosoever shall not be offended\n    in Me. 24. And when the messengers of John were\n    departed, He began to speak unto the people concerning\n    John. What went ye out into the wilderness for to see?\n    A reed shaken with the wind? 25. But what went ye out\n    for to see? A man clothed in soft raiment? Behold,\n    they which are gorgeously apparelled, and live\n    delicately, are in kings' courts. 26. But what went ye\n    out for to see? A prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and\n    much more than a prophet. 27. This is he, of whom it\n    is written, Behold, I send My messenger before Thy\n    face, which shall prepare Thy way before Thee. 28. For\n    I say unto you, Among those that are born of women\n    there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist;\n    but he that is least in the kingdom of God is greater\n    than he.'--LUKE vii. 18-28.\n\nWe take three stages in this passage--the pathetic message from the\nprisoner, Christ's double answer to it, and His grand eulogium on\nJohn.\n\nI. The message from the prisoner. Had mists of doubt crept over\nJohn's clear conviction that Jesus was the Messiah? Some have\nthought it incredible that the man who had seen the descending dove,\nand heard the voice proclaiming 'This is My beloved Son,' should\never have wavered. But surely our own experience of the effect of\ncircumstances and moods on our firmest beliefs gives us parallels to\nJohn's doubts. A prison would be especially depressing to the\ndesert-loving Baptist; compelled inaction would fret his spirit; he\nwould be tempted to think that, if Jesus were indeed the Bridegroom,\nhe might have spared a thought for the friend of the Bridegroom\nlanguishing in Machaerus. Above all, the kind of works that Jesus\nwas doing did not fill the _r\u00f4le_ of the Messiah as he had\nconceived it. Where were the winnowing fan, the axe laid to the\nroots of the trees, the consuming fire? This gentle friend of\npublicans and sinners was not what he had expected the One mightier\nthan himself to be.\n\nProbably his disciples went farther in doubting than he did, but his\nmessage was the expression of his own hesitations, as is suggested\nby the answer being directed to him, not to the disciples. It may\nhave also been meant to stir Jesus, if He were indeed Messiah, to\n'take to Himself His great power.' But the most natural explanation\nof it is that John's faith was wavering. The tempest made the good\nship stagger. But reeling faith stretched out a hand to Jesus, and\nsought to steady itself thereby. We shall not come to much harm if\nwe carry our doubts as to Him to be cleared by Himself. John's\ngloomy prison thoughts may teach us how much our faith may be\naffected by externals and by changing tempers of mind, and how\nlenient, therefore, should be our judgments of many whose trust may\nfalter when a strain comes. It may also teach us not to write bitter\nthings against ourselves because of the ups and downs of our\nreligious experience, but yet to seek to resist the impression that\ncircumstances make on it, and to aim at keeping up an equable\ntemperature, both in the summer of prosperity and the winter of\nsorrow.\n\nII. The twofold answer. Its first part was a repetition of the same\nkind of miracles, the news of which had evoked John's message; and\nits second part was simply the command to report these, with one\nadditional fact--that good tidings were preached to the poor. That\nseemed an unsatisfactory reply, but it meant just this--to send John\nback to think over these deeds of gracious pity and love as well as\nof power, and to ask himself whether they were not the fit signs of\nthe Messiah. It is to be noted that the words which Christ bids the\ndisciples speak to their master would recall the prophecies in\nIsaiah xxxv. 5 and lxi. 1, and so would set John to revise his ideas\nof what prophecy had painted Messiah as being. The deepest meaning\nof the answer is that love, pity, healing, are the true signs, not\njudicial, retributive, destructive energy. John wanted the lightning;\nChrist told him that the silent sunshine exerts energy, to which the\nfiercest flash is weak. We need the lesson, for we are tempted to\nexalt force above love, if not in our thoughts of God, yet in looking\nat and dealing with men; and we are slow to apprehend the teaching of\nBethlehem and Calvary, that the divinest thing in God, and the strongest\npower among men, is gentle, pitying, self-sacrificing love. Rebuke\ncould not be softer than that which was sent to John in the form of\na benediction. To take offence at Jesus, either because He is not what\nwe expect Him to be, or for any other reason, is to shut oneself out\nfrom the sum of blessings which to accept Him brings with it.\n\nIII. Christ's eulogium on John. How lovingly it was timed! The\npeople had heard John's message and its answer, and might expect\nsome disparaging remarks about his vacillation. But Jesus chooses\nthat very time to lavish unstinted praise on him. That is praise\nindeed. The remembrance of the Jordan banks, where John had\nbaptized, shapes the first question. The streams of people would not\nhave poured out there to look at the tall reeds swaying in the\nbreeze, nor to listen to a man who was like them. He who would rouse\nand guide others must have a firm will, and not be moved by any\nblast that blows. Men will rally round one who has a mind of his own\nand bravely speaks it, and who has a will of his own, and will not\nbe warped out of his path. The undaunted boldness of John, of whom,\nas of John Knox, it might be said that 'he never feared the face of\nman,' was part of the secret of his power. His imprisonment\nwitnessed to it. He was no reed shaken by the wind, but like another\nprophet, was made 'an iron pillar, and brazen walls' to the whole\nhouse of Israel. But he had more than strength of character, he had\nnoble disregard for worldly ease. Not silken robes, like courtiers',\nbut a girdle of camels' hair, not delicate food, but locusts and\nwild honey, were his. And that was another part of his power, as it\nmust be, in one shape or other, of all who rouse men's consciences,\nand wake up generations rotting away in self-indulgence. John's\nfiery words would have had no effect if they had not poured hot from\na life that despised luxury and soft ease. If a man is once\nsuspected of having his heart set on material good, his usefulness\nas a Christian teacher is weakened, if not destroyed. But even these\nare not all, for Jesus goes on to attest that John was a prophet,\nand something even more; namely, the forerunner of the Messiah. As,\nin a royal progress, the nearer the king's chariot the higher the\nrank, and they who ride just in front of him are the chiefest, so\nJohn's proximity in order of time to Jesus distinguished him above\nthose who had heralded him long ages ago. It is always true that,\nthe closer we are to Him, the more truly great we are. The highest\ndignity is to be His messenger. We must not lose sight of the\nexalted place which Jesus by implication claims for Himself by such\na thought, as well as by the quotation from Malachi, and by the\nalteration in it of the original 'My' and 'Me' to 'Thy' and 'Thee.'\nHe does not mean that John was the greatest man that ever lived, as\nthe world counts greatness, but that in the one respect of relation\nto Him, and consequent nearness to the kingdom, he surpassed all.\n\nThe scale employed to determine greatness in this saying is position\nin regard to the kingdom, and while John is highest of those who\n(historically) were without it, because (historically) he was\nnearest to it, the least _in_ it is greater than the greatest\nwithout. The spiritual standing of John and the devout men before\nhim is not in question; it is their position towards the\nmanifestation of the kingdom in time that is in view. We rejoice to\nbelieve that John and many a saint from early days were subjects of\nthe King, and have been 'saved into His everlasting kingdom.' But\nJesus would have us think greatly of the privilege of living in the\nlight of His coming, and of being permitted by faith to enter His\nkingdom. The lowliest believer knows more, and possesses a fuller\nlife born of the Spirit, than the greatest born of woman, who has\nnot received that new birth from above.\n\n\n\n\nGREATNESS IN THE KINGDOM\n\n\n    'He that is least in the kingdom of God is greater than\n    he.'--LUKE vii. 28.\n\nWe were speaking in a preceding sermon about the elements of true\ngreatness, as represented in the life and character of John the\nBaptist. As we remarked then, our Lord poured unstinted eulogium\nupon the head of John, in the audience of the people, at the very\nmoment when he showed himself weakest. 'None born of women' was, in\nChrist's eyes, 'greater than John the Baptist.' The eulogium,\nauthoritative as it was, was immediately followed by a depreciation\nas authoritative, from Christ's lips: 'The least in the kingdom is\ngreater than he.' Greatness depends, not on character, but on\nposition. The contrast that is drawn is between being _in_ and\nbeing _out_ of the kingdom; and this man, great as he was among\nthem 'that are born of women,' stood but upon the threshold;\ntherefore, and only therefore, and in that respect, was he 'less\nthan the least' who was safely within it.\n\nNow, there are two things in these great words of our Lord to notice\nby way of introduction. One is the calm assumption which He makes of\nauthority to marshal men, to stand above the greatest of them, and\nto allocate their places, because He knows all about them; and the\nother is the equally calm and strange assumption of authority which\nHe makes, in declaring that the least within the kingdom is greater\nthan the greatest without. For the kingdom is embodied in Him, its\nKing, and He claimed to have opened the door of entrance into it.\n'The kingdom of God,' or of heaven--an old Jewish idea--means,\nwhatever else it means, an order of things in which the will of God\nis supreme. Jesus Christ says, 'I have come to make that real reign\nof God, in the hearts of men, possible and actual.' So He presents\nHimself in these words as infinitely higher than the greatest\nwithin, or the greatest without the kingdom, and as being Himself\nthe sovereign arbiter of men's claims to greatness. Greater than the\ngreatest is He, the King; for if to be barely across the threshold\nstamps dignity upon a man, what shall we say of the conception of\nHis own dignity which He formed who declared that He sat on the\nthrone of that kingdom, and was its Monarch?\n\nI. The first thought that I suggest is the greatness of the little\nones in the kingdom.\n\nAs I have said, our Lord puts the whole emphasis of His\nclassification on men's position. Inside all are great, greater than\nany that are outside. The least in the one order is greater than the\ngreatest in the other. So, then, the question comes, How does a man\nstep across that threshold? Our Lord evidently means the expression\nto be synonymous with His true disciples. We may avail ourselves, in\nconsidering how men come to be in the kingdom, of His own words.\nOnce He said that unless we _received_ it as little children,\nwe should never be _within_ it. There the blending of the two\nmetaphors adds force and completeness to the thought. The kingdom is\nwithout us, and is offered to us; we must receive it as a gift, and\nit must come into us before we can be in it. The point of comparison\nbetween the recipients of the kingdom and little children does not\nlie in any sentimental illusions about the innocence of childhood,\nbut in its dependence, in its absence of pretension, in its sense of\nclinging helplessness, in its instinctive trust. All these things in\nthe child are natural, spontaneous, unreflecting, and therefore of\nno value. You and I have to think ourselves back to them, and to\nwork ourselves back to them, and to fight ourselves back to them,\nand to strip off their opposites which gather round us in the course\nof our busy, effortful life. Then they become worth infinitely more\nthan their instinctive analogues in the infant. The man's absence of\npretension and consciousness of helplessness and dependent trust are\nbeautiful and great, and through them the kingdom of God, with all\nits lights and glories, pours into his heart, and he himself steps\ninto it, and becomes a true servant and subject of the King.\n\nThen there is another word of the Master's, equally illuminative, as\nto how we pass into the kingdom, when He spoke to the somewhat\npatronising Pharisee that came to talk to Him by night, and\ncondescended to give the young Rabbi a certificate of approval from\nthe Sanhedrim, 'We know that Thou art a Teacher come from God.'\nChrist's answer was, in effect, 'Knowing will not serve your turn.\nThere is something more than that wanted: \"Except a man be born of\nwater, and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.\"'\nSo, another condition of entering the kingdom--that is, of coming\nfor myself into the attitude of lowly, glad submission to God's\nwill--is the reception into our natures of a new life-principle, so\nthat we are not only, like the men whom Christ compared with John,\n'born of women,' but by a higher birth are made partakers of a\nhigher life, and born of the Spirit of God. These are the\nconditions--on our side the reception with humility, helplessness,\ndependent trust like those of children, on God's side the imparting,\nin answer to that dependence and trust, of a higher principle of\nlife--these are the conditions on which we can pass out of the realm\nof darkness into the kingdom of the Son of His love.\n\nThis being so, then we have next to consider the greatness that\nbelongs to the least of those who thus have crossed the threshold,\nand have come to exercise joyous submission to the will of God. The\nhighest dignity of human nature, the loftiest nobility of which it\nis capable, is to submit to God's will. 'Man's chief end is to\nglorify God.' There is nothing that leads life to such sovereign\npower as when we lay all our will at His feet, and say, 'Break,\nbend, mould, fashion it as Thou wilt.' We are in a higher position\nwhen we are in God's hand. His tools and the pawns on His board,\nthan we are when we are seeking to govern our lives at our pleasure.\nDignity comes from submission, and they who keep God's commandments\nare the aristocracy of the world.\n\nThen, further, there comes the thought that the greatness that\nbelongs to the least of the little ones within the kingdom springs\nfrom their closer relation to the Saviour, whose work they more\nclearly know and more fully appropriate. It is often said that the\nSunday-school child who can repeat the great text, 'God so loved the\nworld that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth\nin Him should not perish, but have everlasting life,' stands far\nabove prophet, righteous man, and John himself. This is not exactly\ntrue, for knowledge of the truth is not what introduces into the\nkingdom; but it is true that the weakest, the humblest, the most\nignorant amongst us, who grasps that truth of the God-sent Son whose\ndeath is the world's life, and who lives, therefore, nestling close\nto Jesus Christ, walks in a light far brighter than the twilight\nthat shone upon the Baptist, or the yet dimmer rays that reached\nprophets and righteous men of old. It is not a question of\ncharacter; it is a question of position. True greatness is\nregulated, by closeness to Jesus Christ, and by apprehension and\nappropriation of His work to myself. The dwarf on the shoulders of\nthe giant sees further than the giant; and 'the least in the\nkingdom,' being nearer to Jesus Christ than the men of old could\never be, because possessing the fuller revelation of God in Him, is\ngreater than the greatest without. They who possess, even in germ,\nthat new life-principle which comes in the measure of a man's faith\nin Christ, thereby are lifted above saints and martyrs and prophets\nof old. The humblest Christian grasps a fuller Christ, and therein\npossesses a fuller spiritual life, than did the ancient heroes of\nthe faith. Christ's classification here says nothing about\nindividual character. It says nothing about the question as to the\npossession of true religion or of spiritual life by the ancient\nsaints, but it simply declares that because we have a completer\nrevelation, we therefore, grasping that revelation, are in a more\nblessed position, 'God having provided some better thing for us,\nthat they without us should not be made perfect.' The lowest in a\nhigher order is higher than the highest in a lower order. As the\ngeologist digs down through the strata, and, as he marks the\nintroduction of new types, declares that the lowest specimen of the\nmammalia is higher than the highest preceding of the reptiles or of\nthe birds, so Christ says, 'He that is lowest in the kingdom of\nheaven is greater than he.'\n\nBrethren! these thoughts should stimulate and should rebuke us that\nhaving so much we make so little use of it. We know God more fully,\nand have mightier motives to serve Him, and larger spiritual helps\nin serving Him than had any of the mighty men of old. We have a\nfuller revelation than Abraham had; have we a tithe of his faith? We\nhave a mightier Captain of the Lord's host with us than stood before\nJoshua; have we any of his courage? We have a tenderer and fuller\nrevelation of the Father than had psalmists of old; are our\naspirations greater after God, whom we know so much better, than\nwere theirs in the twilight of revelation? A savage with a shell and\na knife of bone will make delicate carvings that put our workers,\nwith their modern tools, to shame. A Hindoo, weaving in a shed, with\nbamboos for its walls and palm leaves for its roof, and a rude loom,\nthe same as his ancestors used three thousand years ago, will turn\nout muslins that Lancashire machinery cannot rival. We are exalted\nin position, let us see to it that Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob,\nand all the saints, do not put us to shame, lest the greatest should\nbecome the guiltiest, and exaltation to heaven should lead to\ndejection to hell.\n\nII. Notice the littleness of the great ones in the kingdom.\n\nOur Lord here recognises the fact that there will be varieties of\nposition, that there will be an outer and an inner court in the\nTemple, and an aristocracy in the kingdom. 'In a great house there\nare not only vessels of gold and silver, but of wood and of clay.'\nWhen a man passes into the territory, it still remains an open\nquestion how far into the blessed depths of the land he will\npenetrate. Or, to put away the figure, if as Christian people we\nhave laid hold of Jesus Christ, and in Him have received the kingdom\nand the new life-power, there still remains the question, how much\nand how faithfully we shall utilise the gifts, and what place in the\nearthly experience and manifestation of His kingdom we shall occupy.\nThere are great and small within it.\n\nSo it comes to be a very important question for us all, how we may\nnot merely be content, as so many of us are, with having scraped\ninside and just got both feet across the boundary line, but may\nbecome great in the kingdom. Let me answer that question in three\nsentences. The little ones in Christ's kingdom become great by the\ncontinual exercise of the same things which admitted them there at\nfirst. If greatness depends on position in reference to Jesus\nChrist, the closer we come to Him and the more we keep ourselves in\nloving touch and fellowship with Him, the greater in the kingdom we\nshall be. Again, the little ones in Christ's kingdom become great by\nself-forgetting service. 'He that will be great among you, let him\nbe your minister.' Self-regard dwarfs a man, self-oblivion magnifies\nhim. If ever you come across, even in the walks of daily life,\ntraces in people of thinking much of themselves, and of living\nmainly for themselves, down go these men in your estimation at once.\nWhether you have a beam of the same sort in your own eye or not, you\ncan see the mote in theirs, and you lower your appreciation of them\nimmediately. It is the same in Christ's kingdom, only in an infinitely\nloftier fashion. There, to become small is to become great. Again, the\nlittle ones in Christ's kingdom become great, not only by cleaving\nclose to the Source of all greatness, and deriving thence a higher\ndignity by the suppression and crucifixion of self-esteem and\nself-regard, but by continual obedience to their Lord's commandment.\nAs He said on the Sermon on the Mount, 'Whoso shall do and teach one\nof the least of these commandments shall be called great in the kingdom\nof heaven.' The higher we are, the more we are bound to punctilious\nobedience to the smallest injunction. The more we are obedient to\nthe lightest of His commandments, the greater we become. Thus the\nleast in the kingdom may become the greatest there, if only, cleaving\nclose to Christ, he forgets himself, and lives for others, and does\nthe Father's will.\n\nIII. Lastly, I travel for a moment beyond my text, and note the\nperfect greatness of all in the perfected kingdom.\n\nThe very notion of a kingdom of God established in reality, however\nimperfectly here on earth, demands that somewhere, and some time,\nand somehow, there should be an adequate, a universal and an eternal\nmanifestation and establishment of it. If, here and now, dotted\nabout over the world, there are men who, with much hindrance and\nmany breaks in their obedience, are still the subjects of that\nrealm, and trying to do the will of God, unless we are reduced to\nutter bewilderment intellectually, there must be a region in which\nthat will shall be perfectly done, shall be continually done, shall\nbe universally done. The obedience that we render to Him, just\nbecause it is broken by so much rebellion, slackened by so much\nindifference, hindered by so many clogs, hampered by so many\nlimitations, points, by its attainments and its imperfections alike,\nto a region where the clogs and limitations and interruptions shall\nhave all vanished, and the will of the Lord shall be the life and\nthe light thereof.\n\nSo there rises up before us the fair prospect of that heavenly\nkingdom, in which all that here is interrupted and thwarted tendency\nshall have become realised effect.\n\nThat state must necessarily be a state of continual advance. For if\ngreatness consists in apprehension and appropriation of Christ and\nHis work, there are no limits to the possible expansion and\nassimilation of a human heart to Him, and the wealth of His glory is\nabsolutely boundless. An infinite Christ to be assimilated, and an\nindefinite capacity of assimilation in us, make the guarantee that\neternity shall see the growing progress of the subjects of the\nkingdom, in resemblance to the King.\n\nIf there is this endless progress, which is the only notion of\nheaven that clothes with joy and peace the awful thought of unending\nexistence, then there will be degrees there too, and the old\ndistinction of 'least' and 'greatest' in the kingdom will subsist to\nthe end. The army marches onwards, but they are not all abreast.\nThey that are in front do not intercept any of the blessings or of\nthe light that come to the rearmost files; and they that are behind\nare advancing and envy not those who lead the march.\n\nOnly let us remember, brother, that the distinction of least and\ngreat in the kingdom, in its imperfect forms on earth, is carried\nonwards into the kingdom in its perfect form into heaven. The\nhighest point of our attainment here is the starting-point of our\nprogress yonder. 'An entrance shall be ministered'; it may be\n'ministered abundantly,' or we may be 'saved yet so as by fire.' Let\nus see to it that, being least in our own eyes, we belong to the\ngreatest in the kingdom. And that we may, let us hold fast by the\nSource of all greatness, Christ Himself, and so we shall be launched\non a career of growing greatness, through the ages of eternity. To\nbe joined to Him is greatness, however small the world may think us.\nTo be separate from Him is to be small, though the hosannas of the\nworld may misname us great.\n\n\n\n\nTHWARTING GOD'S PURPOSE\n\n\n    'The Pharisees and lawyers rejected the counsel of God\n    against themselves, being not baptized of Him.'\n    --LUKE vii. 30.\n\nOur Lord has just been pouring unstinted praise on the head of John\nthe Baptist. The eulogium was tenderly timed, for it followed, and\nwas occasioned by the expression, through messengers, of John's\ndoubts of Christ's Messiahship. Lest these should shake the people's\nconfidence in the Forerunner, and make them think of him as weak and\nshifting, Christ speaks of him in the glowing words which precede my\ntext, and declares that he is no 'reed shaken with the wind.'\n\nBut what John was was of less moment to Christ's listeners than was\nwhat they had done with John's message. So our Lord swiftly passes\nfrom His eulogium upon John to the sharp thrust of the personal\napplication to His hearers. In the context He describes the twofold\ntreatment which that message had received; and so describes it as,\nin the description, to lay bare the inmost characteristics of the\nreception or rejection of the message. As to the former, He says\nthat the mass of the common people, and the outcast publicans,\n'justified God'; by which remarkable expression seems to be meant\nthat their reception of John's message and baptism acknowledged\nGod's righteousness in accusing them of sin and demanding from them\npenitence.\n\nOn the other hand, the official class, the cultivated people,\nthe orthodox respectable people--that is to say, the dead\nformalists--'rejected the counsel of God against themselves.'\n\nNow the word 'rejected' would be more adequately rendered\n'_frustrated,_' thwarted, made void, or some such expression,\nas indeed it is employed in other places of Scripture, where it is\ntranslated 'disannulled,' 'made void,' and the like. And if we take\nthat meaning, there emerge from this great word of the Master's two\nthoughts, that to disbelieve God's word is to thwart God's purpose,\nand that to thwart His purpose is to harm ourselves.\n\nI. And I remark, first, that the sole purpose which God has in view\nin speaking to us men is our blessing.\n\nI suppose I need not point out to you that 'counsel' here does not\nmean _advice_, but _intention_. In regard to the matter immediately\nin hand, God's purpose or _counsel_ in sending the Forerunner was,\nfirst of all, to produce in the minds of the people a true consciousness\nof their own sinfulness and need of cleansing; and so to prepare the\nway for the coming of the Messiah, who should bring the inward gift\nwhich they needed, and so secure their salvation. The intention\nwas, first, to bring to repentance, but that was a preparation for\nbringing to them full forgiveness and cleansing. And so we may fairly\nwiden the thought into the far greater and nobler one which applies\nespecially to the message of God in Jesus Christ, and say that\nthe only design which God has in view, in the gospel of His Son, is\nthe highest blessing--that is, the salvation--of every man to whom\nit is spoken.\n\nNow, by the gospel, which, as I say, has thus one single design in\nthe divine mind, I mean, what I think the New Testament means, the\nwhole body of truths which underlie and flow from the fact of\nChrist's Death, Resurrection, and Ascension, which in brief are\nthese--man's sin, man's helplessness, the Incarnation of the Son of\nGod, the Death of Christ as the sacrifice for the world's sin;\nFaith, as the one hand by which we grasp the blessing, and the gift\nof a Divine Spirit which follows upon our faith, and bestows upon us\nsonship and likeness to God, purity of life and character, and\nheaven at last. That, as I take it, is in the barest outline what is\nmeant by the gospel of Jesus Christ.\n\nAnd now I want to press upon you, dear friends, that that great and\nsublime body of truths made known to us, as I believe, from God\nHimself, has one sole object in view and none beside--viz. that\nevery man who hears it may partake of the salvation and the hope\nwhich it brings. It has a twofold effect, alas! but the twofold\neffect does not imply a twofold purpose. There have been schemes of\nso-called Christian theology which have darkened the divine\ncharacter in this respect, and have obscured the great thought that\nGod has one end in view, and one only, when He speaks to us in all\ngood faith, desiring nothing else but only that we shall be gathered\ninto His heart, and made partakers of His love. He is not willing\nthat any should perish, but that all should come to the knowledge of\nthe truth.\n\nIf so, the question comes very sharp and direct to each of us, Is\nthat gospel fulfilling its purpose in me? There are many subordinate\ngood things flowing from the Christian revelation, such as blessings\nfor social outward life, which are as flowers that spring up in its\npath; but unless it has effected its one purpose in regard to you\nand me, it has failed altogether. God meant His word to save your\nsoul. Has it done so? It is a question that any man can answer if\nhe--will be honest with himself.\n\nFurther, this single purpose of the divine speech embraces in its\nintention each of the hearers of that message. I want to gather the\nwide-flowing generality, 'God so loved the world that He sent His\nSon that whosoever believeth,' into this sharp point, 'God so loved\n_me_, that He sent His Son that _I_, believing, might have\nlife eternal.' We shall never understand the universality of\nChristianity until we have appreciated the personality and the\nindividuality of its message to each of us. God does not lose thee in\nthe crowd, do not thou lose thyself in it, nor fail to apprehend that\n_thou_ art personally meant by His broadest declarations. It is\n_thy_ salvation that Christ had in view when He became man and\ndied on the Cross; and it is thy salvation that He had in view when\nHe said to His servants, 'Go into _all_ the world'--there is\nuniversality--'and preach the Gospel to _every_ creature'--there\nis individuality.\n\nThen, further, God is verily seeking to accomplish this purpose even\nnow, by my lips, in so far as I am true to my Master and my message.\nThe outward appearance of what we are about now is that I am trying,\nlamely enough, to speak to you. You may judge this service by rules\nof rhetoric, or anything else you like. But you have not got to the\nbottom of things unless you feel, as I am praying that every one of\nyou may feel, that even with all my imperfections on my head--and I\nknow them better than you can tell me them--I, like all true men who\nare repeating God's message as they have caught it, neither more nor\nless, and have sunk themselves in it, may venture to say, as the\nApostle said: 'Now, then, we are ambassadors for God, as though God\ndid beseech by us, we pray in Christ's stead.' John's voice was a\nrevelation of God's purpose, and the voice of every true preacher of\nJesus Christ is no less so.\n\nII. Secondly, this single divine purpose, or 'counsel,' may be\nthwarted.\n\n'They frustrated the counsel of God.' Of all the mysteries of this\ninexplicable world, the deepest, the mother-mystery of all, is, that\ngiven an infinite will and a creature, the creature can thwart the\ninfinite. I said that was the mystery of mysteries: 'Our wills are\nours we know not how,'--No! indeed we don't!--'Our wills are ours to\nmake them Thine.' But that purpose necessarily requires the\npossibility of the alternative that our wills are ours, and we\n_refuse_ 'to make them Thine.' The possibility is mysterious;\nthe reality of the fact is tragic and bewildering. We need no proof\nexcept our own consciousness; and if that were silenced we should\nhave the same fact abundantly verified in the condition of the world\naround us, which sadly shows that not yet is God's 'will' done 'on\nearth as it is in heaven,' but that men can and do lift themselves\nup against God and set themselves in antagonism to His most gracious\npurposes. And whosoever refuses to accept God's message in Christ\nand God's salvation revealed in that message is thus setting himself\nin battle array against the infinite, and so far as in him lies\n(that is to say, in regard to his own personal condition and\ncharacter) is thwarting God's most holy will.\n\nNow, brethren, I said that there was only one thought in the divine\nheart when He sent His Son, and that was to save you and me and all\nof us. But that thought cannot but be frustrated, and made of none\neffect, as far as the individual is concerned, by unbelief. For\nthere is no way by which any human being can become participant of\nthe spiritual blessings which are included in that great word\n'salvation,' except by simple trust in Jesus Christ. I cannot too\noften and earnestly insist upon this plain truth, which, plain as it\nis, is often obscured, and by many people is never apprehended at\nall, that when the Apostle says 'It is the power of God unto\nsalvation to every one that believeth,' he is laying down no\nlimitation of the universality or of the adequacy of that power, but\nis only setting forth the plain condition, inherent in the very\nnature of things and in the nature of the blessings bestowed, that\nif a man does not trust God he cannot get them, and God cannot give\nhim them, though His heart yearns to give him them He cannot do it.\nHow can any man get any good out of a medicine if he locks his teeth\nand won't take it? How can any truth that I refuse to believe\nproduce any effect upon me? How is it possible for the blessings of\nforgiveness and cleansing to be bestowed upon men who neither know\ntheir need of forgiveness nor desire to be washed from their sins?\nHow can there be the flowing of the Divine Spirit into a heart which\nis tightly barred against His entrance? In a word, how a man can be\nsaved with the salvation that the Gospel offers, except on condition\nof his simple trust in Christ the Giver, I, for my part, fail to\nsee. And so I remind you that the thwarting of God's counsel is the\nawful prerogative of unbelief.\n\nThen, note that, in accordance with the context, you do not need to\nput yourselves to much effort in order to bring to nought God's\ngracious intention about you. 'They thwarted the counsel of God,\nbeing _not_ baptized of Him.' They did not _do_ anything. They simply\ndid nothing, and that was enough. There is no need for violent\nantagonism to the counsel. Fold your hands in your lap, and the gift\nwill not come into them. Clench them tightly, and put them behind\nyour back, and it cannot come. A negation is enough to ruin a man. You\ndo not need to do anything to slay yourselves. In the ocean, when the\nlifebelt is within reach, simply forbear to put out your hand to it,\nand down you will go, like a stone, to the very bottom. 'They rejected\nthe counsel,' 'being _not_'--and that was all.\n\nFurther, the people who are in most danger of frustrating God's gracious\npurpose are not blackguards, not men and women steeped to the eyebrows\nin the stagnant pool of sensuous sin, but clean, respectable\nchurch-and-chapel-going, sermon-hearing, doctrine-criticising Pharisees.\nThe man or woman who is led away by the passions that are lodged in\nhis or her members is not so hopeless as the man into whose spiritual\nnature there has come the demon of self-complacent righteousness, or\nwho, as is the case with many a man and woman sitting in these pews\nnow, has listened to, or at all events, has _heard_, men\npreaching, as I am trying to preach, ever since childhood, and has\nnever done anything in consequence. These are the hopeless people. The\nPharisees--and there are hosts of their great-great-grandchildren in\nall our congregations--'the Pharisees ... frustrated the counsel of\nGod.'\n\nIII. Lastly, this thwarting brings self-inflicted harm.\n\nA little skiff of a boat comes athwart the bows of a six thousand\nton steamer, with triple-expansion engines, that can make twenty\nknots an hour. What will become of the skiff, do you think? You can\nthwart God's purpose about yourself, but the great purpose goes on\nand on. And 'Who hath hardened himself against Him and prospered?'\nYou can thwart the purpose, but it is kicking against the pricks.\n\nConsider what you lose when you will have nothing to do with that\ndivine counsel of salvation. Consider not only what you lose, but\nwhat you bring upon yourself; how you bind your sin upon your\nhearts; how you put out your hands, and draw disease and death\nnearer to yourselves; how you cannot turn away from, or be\nindifferent to, the gracious, sweet, pleading voice that speaks to\nyou from the Cross and the Throne, without doing damage--in many\nmore ways than I have time to enlarge upon now--to your own\ncharacter and inward nature. And consider how there lie behind dark\nand solemn results about which it does not become me to speak, but\nwhich it still less becomes me--believing as I do--to suppress.\n'After death the judgment'; and what will become of the thwarters of\nthe divine counsel then?\n\nThese wounds, many, deep, deadly as they are, are self-inflicted.\nThere do follow, on God's message and unbelief of it, awful\nconsequences; but these are not His intention. They are the results\nof our misuse of His gracious word. 'Oh, Israel!' wailed the\nprophet, 'thou hast destroyed _thyself_' Man's happiness or woe\nis his own making, and his own making only. There is no creature in\nheaven or earth or hell that is chargeable with your loss but\nyourself. We are our own betrayers, our own murderers, our own\naccusers, our own avengers, and--I was going to say, and it is\ntrue--our own hell.\n\nDear friends! this message comes to you once more now, that Jesus\nChrist has died for your sins, and that if you will trust Him as\nyour Saviour, and obey Him as your Sovereign, you will he saved with\nan everlasting salvation. Even through my lips God speaks to you.\nWhat are you going to do with His message? Are you going to receive\nit, and 'justify' Him, or are you going to reject it, and thwart\nHim? You thwart Him if you treat my words now as a mere sermon to be\ncriticised and forgotten; you thwart Him if you do anything with His\nmessage except take it to your heart and rest wholly upon it. Unless\nyou do you are suicides; and neither God, nor man, nor devil is\nresponsible for your destruction. He can say to you, as His servant\nsaid: 'Your blood be upon your own heads; I am clean.' Jesus Christ\nis calling to every one of us, 'Turn ye! turn ye! Why will ye die?\nAs I live, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked.'\n\n\n\n\nA GLUTTONOUS MAN AND A WINEBIBBER\n\n\n    'The Son of man is come eating and drinking; and ye\n    say, Behold a gluttonous man, and a winebibber, a\n    friend of publicans and sinners!'--LUKE vii. 34.\n\nJesus Christ very seldom took any notice of the mists of calumny\nthat drifted round Him. 'When He was reviled He reviled not again.'\nIf ever He did allude to them it was for the sake of the people who\nwere harming themselves by uttering them. So here, without the\nslightest trace of irritation, He quotes a malignant charge which\nwas evidently in the popular mouth, and of which we should never\nhave known if He had not repeated it; not with anger, but simply in\norder that He might point to the capricious inconsistency of finding\nfault with John and Himself on precisely opposite grounds. The\nformer did not suit because he came neither eating nor drinking.\nWell, if His asceticism did not please, surely the geniality of a\nChrist who comes doing both will be hailed. But He is rejected like\nthe other. What is the cause of this dislike that can look two\ndifferent ways at once? Not the traits that it alleges, but\nsomething far deeper, a dislike to the heavenly wisdom of which John\nand Jesus were messengers. The children of wisdom would see that\nthere was right in both courses; the children of folly would condemn\nthem both. If the message is unwelcome, nothing that the messenger\ncan say or do will be right.\n\nThe same kind of thing is common to-day. Never mind consistency,\nfind fault with Christianity on all its sides, and with all its\npreachers, though you have to contradict yourself in doing so.\nObject to this man that he is too learned and doctrinal; to that one\nthat he is too illiterate, and gives no food for thought; to this\none that he is always thundering condemnation; to that one that he\nis always running over with love; to this one that he is perpetually\nharping upon duties; to that other one that he is up in the clouds,\nand forgets the tasks of daily life; to this one that he is\nsensational; to that one that he is dull; and so on, and so on. The\ngeneration that liked neither piping nor mourning has its\nrepresentatives still.\n\nBut my business now is not with the inconsistency of the objectors\nto John and Jesus, but simply with this caricature which He quotes\nfrom them of some of His characteristics. It is a distorted\nrefraction of the beam of light that comes from His face, through\nthe muddy, thick medium of their prejudice. And if we can, I was\ngoing to say, pull it straight again, we shall see something of His\nglories. I take the two clauses of my text separately because they\nare closely connected with our design, and cover different ground.\n\nI. I ask you to note, first, the enemies' attestation to Christ's\ngenial participation in the joys and necessities of common life.\n\n'The Son of man came eating and drinking.' There is nothing that\ncalumny, if it be malignant enough, cannot twist into an accusation;\nand out of glorious and significant facts, full of lessons and\ncontaining strong buttresses of the central truth of the Gospel,\nthese people made this charge, 'a winebibber and gluttonous.' The\nfacts were facts; the inferences were slanders.\n\nNotice how precious, how demonstrative of the very central truth of\nChristianity, is that plain fact, 'The Son of man came eating and\ndrinking.' Then that pillar of all our hope, the Incarnation of the\nword of God, stands irrefragable. Sitting at tables, hungering in\nthe wilderness, faint by the well, begging a draught of water from a\nwoman, and saying on His Cross 'I thirst!'--He is the Incarnation of\nDeity, the manifestation of God in the flesh. Awe and mystery and\nreverence and hope and trust clasp that fact, in which prejudice and\ndislike could only find occasion for a calumny.\n\nBy eating and drinking He declared that 'forasmuch as the children\nwere partakers of flesh and blood, He Himself likewise took part in\nthe same.' If it is true that every spirit that confesseth that\nJesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God,' then it is true that\nno miracle in His life, nor any of the supernatural glories which we\nare accustomed to regard as evidences of His majesty, are more\nblessed, or more important as revelations of His nature, than the\nfact that 'the Son of man came eating and drinking.'\n\nBut, still further, mark how the truth which gave colour to the\nslander attests that Jesus Christ presents to the world the highest\ntype of manhood. The ideal for life is not the suppression, but the\nconsecration, of material satisfactions and pleasures of appetite.\nAnd they are likest to the Master who, like the Master, come eating\nand drinking, and yet ever hold all appetites and desires rigidly\nunder control, and subordinate them all to loftier purposes. John\nthe Baptist could be an ascetic; the Pattern Man must not be.\n\nThe highest type of religion, as it is shown to us in His perfect\nlife, includes the acceptance of all pure material blessings.\nAsceticism is second best; the religion that can take and keep\nsecondary all outward and transitory sources of enjoyment, and can\nhallow common life, is loftier than all pale hermits and emaciated\ntypes of sanctity, who preserve their purity only by avoiding things\nwhich it were nobler to enjoy and to subdue.\n\nThere is nothing more striking about the Old Testament than the fact\nthat its heroes and saints were kindly with their kind, and took\npart in common life, accepting, enjoying its blessings. They were\nwarriors, statesmen, shepherds, vinedressers; 'they bought, they\nsold, they planted, they builded; they married and were given in\nmarriage,' and all the while they were the saints of God. That was a\nnobler type of religion than the one that came after it, into which\nJesus Christ was born. When devotion cools it crusts; and the crust\nis superstition and formalism and punctilious attention to the\nproprieties of worship and casuistry, instead of joyful obedience to\na law, and abstinence from, instead of sanctification of, earthly\ndelights and supplies.\n\nSo, protesting against all that, and showing the more excellent way,\nand hallowing the way because He trod it, 'the Son of man came\neating and drinking.' Hence-forward every table may be a communion\ntable, and every meal may be a sacrament, eaten in obedience to His\ndying injunction: 'This do in remembrance of Me.' If we can feel\nthat Christ sits with us at the feast, the feast will be pure and\ngood. If it is of such a sort as that we dare not fancy Him keeping\nus company there, it is no place for us. Wherever Jesus Christ went\nthe consecration of His presence lingers still; whatever Jesus\nChrist did His servants may do, if in the same spirit and in the\nsame manner.\n\nHe hallowed infancy when He lay an infant in His mother's arms; He\nhallowed childhood when, as a boy, He was obedient to His parents;\nHe hallowed youth during all those years of quiet seclusion and\nunnoticed service in Nazareth; He hallowed every part of human life\nand experience by bearing it. Love is consecrated because He loved;\ntears are sacred because He wept; life is worship, or may be made\nso, because He passed through it; and death itself is ennobled and\nsanctified because He has died.\n\nOnly let us remember that, if we are to exercise this blessed\nhallowing of common things, of which He has set us the example, we must\nuse them as He did; that is, in such sort as that our communion with\nGod shall not be broken thereby, and that nothing in them shall darken\nthe vision and clip the wings of the aspiring and heavenward-gazing\nspirit. Brethren! the tendency of this day--and one rejoices, in many\nrespects, that it is so--is to revolt against the extreme of narrowness\nin the past that prescribed and proscribed a great many arbitrary and\nunnecessary abstinences and practices as the sign of a Christian\nprofession. But whilst I would yield to no man in my joyful application\nof the principle that underlies that great fact that 'He came eating\nand drinking,' I do wish at this point to put in a _caveat_ which\nperhaps may not be so welcome to some of you as the line of thought\nthat I have been pursuing. It is this: it is an error to quote\nChrist's example as a cover for luxury and excess, and grasping at\nmaterial enjoyments which are not innocent in themselves, or are mixed\nup with much that is not innocent. There is many a table spread by\nso-called Christian people where Jesus Christ will not sit. Many a\nman darkens his spirit, enfeebles his best part, blinds himself to the\nthings beyond, by reason of his taking the liberty, as he says, which\nChristianity, broadly and generously interpreted, gives, of\nparticipating in all outward delights. I have said that asceticism is\nnot the highest, but it is sometimes necessary. It is better to enjoy\nand to subdue than to abstain and to suppress, but abstinence and\nsuppression are often essential to faithfulness and noble living. If\nI find that my enjoyment of innocent things harms me, or is tending to\nstimulate cravings beyond my control; or if I find that abstinence from\ninnocent things increases my power to help a brother, and to fight\nagainst a desolating sin; or if things good and innocent in\nthemselves, and in some respects desirable and admirable, like the\ntheatre, for instance, are irretrievably intertwisted with evil\nthings, then Christ's example is no plea for our sharing in such. It\nis better for us to cut off the offending hand, and so, though\nmaimed, to enter into life, than to keep two hands and go into the\ndarkness of death. Jesus Christ 'came eating and drinking,' and\ntherefore the highest and the best thing is that Christian people\nshould innocently, and with due control, and always keeping\nthemselves in touch with God, enjoy all outward blessings, only\nsubject to this law, 'whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever we do,\nto do all to the glory of God,' and remembering this warning, 'He\nthat soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption.'\n\nII. Now, secondly, notice the enemies' witness that Christ is the\nFriend of outcasts.\n\nAs I said about the other charge, so I say of this, the facts were\nfacts, the inferences were errors. The slanderers saw, as nobody\ncould help seeing, that there was a strange kind of mutual\nattraction between Jesus and publicans and sinners; that harlots as\nwell as little children seemed to be drawn to Him; and that He\nobviously delighted in the company of those at whose presence,\npartly from pride, partly from national enmity, partly from\nheartless self-righteousness, Pharisaism gathered its dainty skirts\naround itself in abhorrence, lest a speck should fall upon their\npurity. That being the fact, low natures, who always misunderstand\nlofty ones, because they can only believe in motives as low as their\nown, said of Jesus, 'Ah! you can tell what sort of a man He is by\nthe company He keeps. He is the friend of publicans because He is a\nbad Jew; the friend of sinners because He likes their wicked ways.'\n\nThere was a mysterious sense of sympathy which drew Jesus Christ to\nthese poor people and drew them to Him. It would have been a long\nwhile before any penitent woman would have come in and wept over\nthe feet of Gamaliel and his like. It would have been a long while\nbefore any sinful men would have found their way, with tears and yet\nwith trust, to these self-righteous hypocrites. But perfect purity\nsomehow draws the impure, though assumed sanctity always repels\nthem. And it is a sign, not that a man is bad, but that he is good\nin a Christlike fashion, if the outcasts that durst not come near\nyour respectable people find themselves drawn to Him. Oh! if there\nwere more of us liker Jesus Christ in our purity, there would be\nmore of us who would deserve the calumny which is praise--'the\nfriend of sinners.'\n\nIt was an attestation of His love, as I need not remind you. I\nsuppose there is nothing more striking in the whole wonderful and\nunique picture of Jesus Christ drawn in the Gospels than the way in\nwhich two things, which we so often fancy to be contradictory, blend\nin the most beautiful harmony in Him--viz. infinite tenderness and\nabsolute condemnation of transgression. To me the fact that these\ntwo characteristics are displayed in perfect harmony in the life of\nJesus Christ as written in these Gospels, is no small argument for\nbelieving the historical veracity of the picture there drawn. For I\ndo not know a harder thing for a dramatist, or a romancer, or a\nlegend-monger to effect than to combine, in one picture--without\nmaking the combination monstrous-these two things, perfect purity\nand perfect love for the impure.\n\nBut, dear brethren, remember, that if we are to believe Jesus\nChrist's own words, that strange love of His, which embraced in its\npure clasp the outcasts, was not only the love of a perfect Man, but\nit was the love of God Himself. 'He that hath seen Me hath seen the\nFather.' When we see Jesus Christ looking across the valley to the\ncity, with tears in His sad and gentle eyes; and when we see harlots\nand sinners coming near Him with new hope, and a strange\nconsciousness of a fascination which He wields; and when we see Him\nopening His heart to all the impure, just as He laid His clean hand\non the leper's ulcers, let us rejoice to believe that the Friend of\npublicans and sinners is God manifest in the flesh.\n\nThen, still further, this wondrous, seeking love of His for all the\noutcasts is the sign to us of His boundless hopefulness concerning\nthe most degraded.\n\nThe world talks of races too low to be elevated, of men too hardened\nto be softened. Jesus Christ walks through the hospitals of this\nworld, and nowhere sees incurables. His hope is boundless, because,\nfirst of all, He sees the dormant possibilities that slumber in the\nmost degraded; and because, still more, He knows that He bears in\nHimself a power that will cleanse the foulest and raise the most\nfallen. There are some metals that resist all attempts to volatilise\nthem by the highest temperature producible in our furnaces. Carry\nthem up into the sun and they will all pass into vapour. No man or\nwoman who ever lived, or will live, is so absolutely besotted, and\nheld by the chains of his or her sins, as that Jesus cannot set them\nfree. His hope for outcasts is boundless, because He knows that\nevery sin can be cleansed by His precious blood. Therefore,\nChristianity should know nothing of desperate cases. There should be\nno incurables in our estimate of the world, but our hope should be\nas boundless as the Master's, who drew to Himself the publicans\nand sinners, and made them saints.\n\nI need not remind you how this is the unique glory of Christ and of\nChristianity. Men have been asking the question whether Christianity\nis played out or not. What has been the motive power of all the\ngreat movements for the elevation of mankind that have occurred for\nthe last nineteen centuries? What was it that struck the fetters of\nthe slaves? What is it that sends men out amongst savage tribes? Has\nthere ever been found a race of men so degraded that the message of\nChrist's love could not find its way into their hearts? Did not\nDarwin subscribe to the Patagonian Mission--a mission which takes in\nhand perhaps the lowest types of humanity in the world--and did he\nnot do it because his own eyes had taught him that in this strange\nsuperstition that we call the Gospel there is a power that, somehow\nor other, nothing else can wield? Brethren! if the Church begins to\nlose its care for, and its power of drawing, outcasts and sinners,\nit has begun to lose its hold on Christ. The sooner such a Church\ndies the better, and there will be few mourners at its funeral.\n\nThe Friend of publicans and sinners has set the example to all of us\nHis followers. God be thanked that there are signs to-day that\nChristian people are more and more waking up to the consciousness of\ntheir obligations in regard to the outcasts in their own and other\nlands. Let them go to them, as Jesus Christ did, with no false\nflatteries, but with plain rebukes of sin, and yet with manifest\noutgoing of the heart, and they will find that the same thing which\ndrew these poor creatures to the Master will draw others to the\nfeeblest, faintest reflection of Him in His servants.\n\nAnd, last of all, dear friends, let each think that Jesus Christ is\nmy Friend, and your Friend, because He is the Friend of sinners, and\nwe are sinners. If He did not love sinners there would be nobody for\nHim to love. The universality of sin, however various in its degrees\nand manifestations, makes more wonderful the universal sweep of His\nfriendship.\n\nHow do I know that He is my Friend? 'Greater love hath no man than\nthis, that a man lay down his life for his friends,' and when we\nwere yet enemies He was our Friend, and died for us. How shall we\nrequite that love? 'Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command\nyou to do.' All over the Eastern world to this day the name by which\nthe Patriarch Abraham is known is the 'Friend' or the 'Companion.'\nWell for us, for time and for eternity, if, knowing that Jesus is\nour Friend, we yield ourselves, in faith and love, to become His\nfriends!\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWO DEBTORS\n\n\n    'There was a certain creditor which had two debtors;\n    the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty.\n    42. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly\n    forgave them both. Tell Me therefore, which of them\n    will love him most? 43. Simon answered and said, I\n    suppose that he to whom he forgave most.'--LUKE vii.41-43.\n\nWe all know the lovely story in which this parable is embedded. A\nwoman of notoriously bad character had somehow come in contact with\nJesus Christ, and had by Him been aroused from her sensuality and\ndegradation, and calmed by the assurance of forgiveness. So, when\nshe heard that He was in her own town, what could she do but hasten\nto the Pharisee's house, and brave the cruel, scornful eyes of the\neminently respectable people that would meet her there? She carries\nwith her part of the spoils and instruments of her sinful adornment,\nto devote it to His service; but before she can open the cruse, her\nheart opens, and the hot tears flow on His feet, inflicting an indignity\nwhere she had meant an honour. She has nothing at hand to repair the\nfault, she will not venture to take her poor garment, which might have\ndone it, but with a touch, she loosens her long hair, and with the\ningenuity and self-abasement of love, uses that for a towel. Then,\ngathering confidence from her reception, and carried further than she\nhad meant, she ventures to lay her sinful lips on His feet, as if asking\npardon for the tears that would come--the only lips, except those of\nthe traitor, that are recorded as having touched the Master. And only\nthen does she dare to pour upon Him her only wealth.\n\nWhat says the Pharisee? Has he a heart at all? He is scandalised at\nsuch a scene at his respectable table; and no wonder, for he could\nnot have known that a change had passed upon the woman, and her evil\nrepute was obviously notorious. He does not wonder at her having\nfound her way into his house, for the meal was half public. But he\nbegan to doubt whether a Man who tolerates such familiarities from\nsuch a person could be a prophet; or if He were, whether He could be\na good man. 'He would have known her if He had been a prophet,'\nthinks he. The thought is only a questionably true one. 'If He had\nknown her, He would have thrust her back with His foot,' he thinks;\nand that thought is obviously false. But Simon's righteousness was\nof the sort that gathers up its own robes about it, and shoves back\nthe poor sinner into the filth. 'She is a sinner,' says he. No,\nSimon! she _was_ a sinner, but she _is_ a penitent, and is\non the road to be a saint, and having been washed, she is a great\ndeal cleaner than thou art, who art only white-washed.\n\nOur Lord's parable is the answer to the Pharisee's thought, and in\nit Jesus shows Simon that He knows him and the woman a great deal\nbetter than he did. There are three things to which briefly I ask\nyour attention--the common debt, in varying amounts; the common\ninsolvency; and the love, like the debt, varying in amount. Now,\nnote these things in order.\n\nI. There is, first of all, the common debt.\n\nI do not propose to dwell at all upon that familiar metaphor,\nfamiliar to us all from its use in the Lord's Prayer, by which sin\nand the guilt of sin are shadowed forth for us in an imperfect\nfashion by the conception of debt. For duty neglected is a debt to\nGod, which can only be discharged by a penalty. And all sin, and its\nconsequent guilt and exposure to punishment, may be regarded under\nthe image of indebtedness.\n\nBut the point that I want you to notice is that these two in our\nparable, though they are meant to be portraits of Simon and the\nwoman, are also representatives of the two classes to one or other\nof which we all belong. They are both debtors, though one owes but a\ntenth of what the other does. That is to say, our Lord here draws a\nbroad distinction between people who are outwardly respectable,\ndecent, cleanly living, and people who have fallen into the habit,\nand are living a life, of gross and open transgression. There has\nbeen a great deal of very pernicious loose representation of the\nattitude of Christianity in reference to this matter, common in\nevangelical pulpits. And I want you to observe that our Lord draws a\nbroad line and says, 'Yes! you, Simon, are a great deal better than\nthat woman was. She was coarse, unclean, her innocence gone, her\npurity stained. She had been wallowing in filth, and you, with your\nrespectability, your rigid morality, your punctilious observance of\nthe ordinary human duties, you were far better than she was, and had\nfar less to answer for than she had.' Fifty is only a tenth of five\nhundred, and there is a broad distinction, which nothing ought to be\nallowed to obliterate, between people who, without religion, are\ntrying to do right, to keep themselves in the paths of morality and\nrighteousness, to discharge their duty to their fellows, controlling\ntheir passions and their flesh, and others who put the reins upon\nthe necks of the horses and let them carry them where they will, and\nlive in an eminent manner for the world and the flesh and the devil.\nAnd there is nothing in evangelical Christianity which in the\nsmallest degree obliterates that distinction, but rather it\nemphasises it, and gives a man full credit for any difference that\nthere is in his life and conduct and character between himself and\nthe man of gross transgression.\n\nBut then it says, on the other side, the difference which does\nexist, and is not to be minimised, is, after all, a difference of\ndegree. They are both debtors. They stand in the same relation to\nthe creditor, though the amount of the indebtedness is extremely\ndifferent. We are all sinful men, and we stand in the same relation\nto God, though one of us may be much darker and blacker than the\nother.\n\nAnd then, remember, that when you begin to talk about the guilt of\nactions in God's sight, you have to go far below the mere surface.\nIf we could see the infinite complexity of motives--aggravations on\nthe one side and palliations on the other--which go to the doing of\na single deed, we should not be so quick to pronounce that the\npublican and the harlot are worse than the Pharisee. It is quite\npossible that an action which passes muster in regard to the\nmorality of the world may, if regard be had (which God only can\nexercise) to the motive for which it is done, be as bad as, if not\nworse than, the lust and the animalism, drunkenness and debauchery,\ncrime and murder, which the vulgar scales of the world consider to\nbe the heavier. If you once begin to try to measure guilt, you will\nhave to pass under the surface appearance, and will find that many a\nwhite and dazzling act has a very rotten inside, and that many a\nvery corrupt and foul one does not come from so corrupt a source as\nat first sight might seem to be its origin. Let us be very modest in\nour estimate of the varying guilt of actions, and remember that,\ndeep down below all diversities, there lies a fundamental identity,\nin which there is no difference, that all of us respectable people\nthat never broke a law of the nation, and scarcely ever a law of\npropriety, in our lives, and the outcasts, if there are any here\nnow, the drunkards, the sensualists, all of us stand in this respect\nin the same class. We are all debtors, for we have 'all sinned and\ncome short of the glory of God,' A viper an inch long and the\nthickness of whipcord has a sting and poison in it, and is a viper.\nAnd if the question is whether a man has got small-pox or not, one\npustule is as good evidence as if he was spotted all over. So,\nremember, he who owes five hundred and he who owes the tenth part of\nit, which is fifty, are both debtors.\n\nII. Now notice the common insolvency.\n\n'They had nothing to pay.' Well, if there is no money, 'no effects'\nin the bank, no cash in the till, nothing to distrain upon, it does\nnot matter very much what the amount of the debt is, seeing that\nthere is nothing to meet it, and whether it is fifty or five hundred\nthe man is equally unable to pay. And that is precisely our\nposition.\n\nI admit, of course, that men without any recognition of God's\npardoning mercy, or any of the joyful impulse that comes from the\nsense of Christ's redemption, or any of the help that is given by\nthe indwelling of the Spirit who sanctifies may do a great deal in\nthe way of mending their characters and making themselves purer and\nnobler. But that is not the point which my text contemplates,\nbecause it deals with a past. And the fact that lies under the\nmetaphor of my text is this, that none of us can in any degree\ndiminish our sin, considered as a debt to God. What can you and I do\nto lighten our souls of the burden of guilt? What we have written we\nhave written. Tears will not wash it out, and amendment will not\nalter the past, which stands frowning and irrevocable. If there be a\nGod at all, then our consciences, which speak to us of demerit,\nproclaim guilt in its two elements--the sense of having done wrong,\nand the foreboding of punishment therefor. Guilt cannot be dealt\nwith by the guilty one: it must be Some One else who deals with it.\nHe, and only He against whom we have sinned, can touch the great\nburden that we have piled upon us.\n\nBrother! we have nothing to pay. We may mend our ways; but that does\nnot touch the past. We may hate the evil; that will help to keep us\nfrom doing it in the future, but it does not affect our\nresponsibility for what is done. We cannot touch it; there it stands\nirrevocable, with this solemn sentence written over the black pile,\n'Every transgression and disobedience shall receive its just\nrecompense of reward.' We have nothing to pay.\n\nBut my text suggests, further, that a condition precedent to\nforgiveness is the recognition by us of our penniless insolvency.\nThough it is not distinctly stated, it is clearly and necessarily\nimplied in the narrative, that the two debtors are to be supposed as\nhaving come and held out a couple of pairs of empty hands, and sued\nin _form\u00e2 pauperis_. You must recognise your insolvency if you\nexpect to be forgiven. God does not accept dividends, so much in the\npound, and let you off the rest on consideration thereof. If you are\ngoing to pay, you have to pay all; if He is going to forgive, you\nhave to let Him forgive all. It must be one thing or the other, and\nyou and I have to elect which of the two we shall stand by, and\nwhich of the two shall be applied to us.\n\nOh, dear friends! may we all come and say,\n\n  Nothing in my hand I bring,\n  Simply to Thy Cross I cling.\n\nIII. And so, lastly, notice the love, which varies with the\nforgiveness.\n\n'Tell Me which of them will love him most.' Simon does not penetrate\nChrist's design, and there is a dash of supercilious contempt for the\nstory and the question, as it seems to me, in the languid, half-courteous\nanswer:--'I suppose, if it were worth my while to think about such a\nthing, that he to whom he forgave the most.' He did not know what a\nbattery was going to be unmasked. Jesus says, 'Thou hast rightly judged.'\n\nThe man that is most forgiven is the man that will love most. Well,\nthat answer is true if all other things about the two debtors are\nequal. If they are the same sort of men, with the same openness to\nsentiments of gratitude and generosity, the man who is let off the\nsmaller debt will generally be less obliged than the man who is let\noff the larger. But it is, alas! not always the case that we can\nmeasure benefits conferred by gratitude shown. Another element comes\nin--namely, the consciousness of the benefit received--which\nmeasures the gratitude far more accurately than the actual benefit\nbestowed. And so we must take both these things, the actual amount\nof forgiveness, so to speak, which is conferred, and the depth of\nthe sense of the forgiveness received, in order to get the measure\nof the love which answers it. So that this principle breaks up into\ntwo thoughts, of which I have only just a word or two to say.\n\nFirst, it is very often true that the greatest sinners make the\ngreatest saints. There have been plenty of instances all down the\nhistory of the world, and there are plenty of instances, thank God,\ncropping up every day still in which some poor, wretched outcast,\naway out in the darkness, living on the husks that the swine do eat,\nand liking to be in the pigstye, is brought back into the Father's\nhouse, and turns out a far more loving son and a far better servant\nthan the man that had never wandered away from it. 'The publicans\nand the harlots' do often yet 'go into the Kingdom of God before'\nthe respectable people.\n\nAnd there are plenty of people in Manchester that you would not\ntouch with a pair of tongs who, if they could be got hold of, would\nmake far more earnest and devoted Christians than you are. The very\nstrength of passion and feeling which has swept them wrong, rightly\ndirected, would make grand saints of them, just as the very same\nconditions of climate which, at tropics, bring tornadoes and\ncyclones and dreadful thunder-storms, do also bring abundant\nfertility. The river which devastates a nation, dammed up within\nbanks, may fertilise half a continent. And if a man is brought out\nof the darkness, and looks back upon the years that are wasted, that\nmay help him to a more intense consecration. And if he remembers the\nfilth out of which Jesus Christ picked him, it will bind him to that\nLord with a bond deep and sacred.\n\nSo let no outcast man or woman listening to me now despair. You can\ncome back from the furthest darkness, and whatever ugly things you\nhave in your memories and your consciences, you may make them\nstepping-stones on which to climb to the very throne of God. Let no\nrespectable people despise the outcasts;  there may be the making in\nthem of far better Christians than we are.\n\nBut, on the other hand, let no man think lightly of sin. Though it\ncan be forgiven and swept away, and the gross sinner may become the\ngreat saint, there will be scars and bitter memories and habits\nsurging up again after we thought they were dead; and the old ague\nand fever that we caught in the pestilential land will hang by us\nwhen we have migrated into a more wholesome climate. It is never\ngood for a man to have sinned, even though, through his sin, God may\nhave taken occasion to bring him near to Himself.\n\nBut the second form of this principle is always true--namely, that\nthose who are most conscious of forgiveness will be most fruitful of\nlove. The depth and fervour of our individual Christianity depends\nmore largely on the clearness of our consciousness of our own\npersonal guilt and the firmness of our grasp of forgiveness than\nupon anything else.\n\nWhy is it that such multitudes of you professing Christians are such\nicebergs in your Christianity? Mainly for this reason--that you have\nnever found out, in anything like an adequate measure, how great a\nsinner you are, and how sure and sweet and sufficient Christ's\npardoning mercy is. And so you are like Simon--you will ask Jesus to\ndinner, but you will not give Him any water for His feet or ointment\nfor His head. You will do the conventional and necessary pieces of\npoliteness, but not one act of impulse from the heart ever comes\nfrom you. You discharge 'the duties of religion.' What a phrase! You\ndischarge the duties of religion. Ah! My brother, if you had been\ndown into the horrible pit and the miry clay, and had seen a hand\nand a face looking down, and an arm outstretched to lift you; and if\nyou had ever known what the rapture was after that subterraneous\nexperience of having your feet set upon a rock and your goings\nestablished, you would come to Him and you would say, 'Take me all,\nO Lord! for I am all redeemed by Thee.' 'To whom little is forgiven\nthe same loveth little.' Does not that explain the imperfect\nChristianity of thousands of us?\n\nFifty pence and five hundred pence are both small sums. Our Lord had\nnothing to do here with the absolute amount of debt, but only with the\ncomparative amount of the two debts. But when He wanted to tell the\npeople what the absolute amount of the debt was, he did it in that\nother story of the Unfaithful Servant. He owed his lord, not fifty\npence (fifty eightpences or thereabouts), not five hundred pence, but\n'ten thousand talents,' which comes to near two and a half millions\nof English money. And that is the picture of our indebtedness to God.\n'We have nothing to pay.' Here is the payment--that Cross, that dying\nChrist. Turn your faith there, my brother, and then you will get ample\nforgiveness, and that will kindle love, and that will overflow in\nservice. For the aperture in the heart at which forgiveness enters in\nis precisely of the same width as the one at which love goes out.\nChrist has loved us all, and perfectly. Let us love Him back again,\nwho has died that we might live, and borne our sins in His own body.\n\n\n\n\nLOVE AND FORGIVENESS\n\n\n    'Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved\n    much.'--LUKE  vii. 47.\n\nThis story contains three figures, three persons, who may stand for\nus as types or representatives of the divine love and of all its\noperation in the world, of the way in which it is received or rejected,\nand of the causes and consequences of its reception or rejection. There\nis the unloving, cleanly, respectable, self-complacent Pharisee, with\nall his contempt for 'this woman.' There is the woman, with gross sin\nand mighty penitence, the great burst of love that is flowing out of\nher heart sweeping away before it, as it were, all the guilt of her\ntransgressions. And, high over all, brooding over all, loving each,\nknowing each, pitying each, willing to save and be the Friend and\nBrother of each, is the embodied and manifested divine Love, the\nknowledge of whom is love in our hearts, and is 'life eternal.' So that\nnow I have simply to ask you to look with me, for a little while, at\nthese three persons as representing for us the divine love that comes\nforth amongst sinners, and the twofold form in which that love is\nreceived. There is, first, Christ the love of God appearing amongst\nmen, the foundation of all our love to Him. Then there is the woman,\nthe penitent sinner, lovingly recognising the divine love. And then,\nlast, there is the Pharisee, the self-righteous man, ignorant of\nhimself, and empty of all love to God. These are the three figures to\nwhich I ask your attention now.\n\nI. We have Christ here standing as a manifestation of the divine\nlove coming forth amongst sinners. His person and His words, the\npart He plays in this narrative, and the parable that He speaks in\nthe course of it, have to be noticed under this head.\n\nFirst, then, you have this idea--that He, as bringing to us the love\nof God, shows it to us, as not at all dependent upon our merits or\ndeserts: 'He frankly forgave them both' are the deep words in which\nHe would point us to the source and the ground of all the love of\nGod. Brethren, have you ever thought what a wonderful and blessed\ntruth there lies in the old words of one of the Jewish prophets, 'I\ndo not this for your sakes, O house of Israel, but for Mine holy\nName's sake'? The foundation of all God's love to us sinful men,\nthat saying tells us, lies not in us, nor in anything about us, not\nin anything external to God Himself. He, and He alone, is the cause\nand reason, the motive and the end, of His own love to our world.\nAnd unless we have grasped that magnificent thought as the\nfoundation of all our acceptance in Him, I think we have not yet\nlearnt half of the fullness which, even in this world, may belong to\nour conceptions of the love of God--a love that has no motive but\nHimself; a love that is not evoked even (if I may so say) by regard\nto His creatures' wants; a love, therefore, which is eternal, being\nin that divine heart before there were creatures upon whom it could\nrest; a love that is its own guarantee, its own cause--safe and\nfirm, therefore, with all the firmness and serenity of the divine\nnature-incapable of being affected by our transgression, deeper than\nall our sins, more ancient than our very existence, the very essence\nand being of God Himself. 'He frankly forgave them both.' If you\nseek the source of divine love, you must go high up into the\nmountains of God, and learn that it, as all other of His (shall I\nsay) emotions, and feelings, and resolutions, and purposes, owns no\nreason but Himself, no motive but Himself; lies wrapped in the\nsecret of His nature, who is all-sufficient for His own blessedness,\nand all whose work and being is caused by, and satisfied, and\nterminates in His own fullness. 'God is love': therefore beneath all\nconsiderations of what we may want--deeper and more blessed than all\nthoughts of a compassion that springs from the feeling of human\ndistress and the sight of man's misery--lies this thought of an\naffection which does not need the presence of sorrow to evoke it,\nwhich does not want the touch of our finger to flow out, but by its\nvery nature is everlasting, by its very nature is infinite, by its\nvery nature must be pouring out the flood of its own joyous fullness\nfor ever and ever!\n\nThen, again, Christ standing here for us as the representative and\nrevelation of this divine love which He manifests to us, tells us,\ntoo, that whilst it is not caused by us, but comes from the nature\nof God, it is not turned away by our sins. 'This man, if he were a\nprophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that\ntoucheth Him,' says the unloving and self-righteous heart, 'for she\nis a sinner.' Ah! there is nothing more beautiful than the\ndifference between the thought about sinful creatures which is\nnatural to a holy being, and the thought about sinful creatures\nwhich is natural to a self-righteous being. The one is all contempt;\nthe other, all pity. He knew what she was, and therefore He let her\ncome close to Him with the touch of her polluted hand, and pour out\nthe gains of her lawless life and the adornments of her former\ncorruption upon His most blessed and most holy head. His knowledge\nof her as a sinner, what did it do to His love for her? It made that\nlove gentle and tender, as knowing that she could not bear the\nrevelation of the blaze of His purity. It smoothed His face and\nsoftened His tones, and breathed through all His knowledge and\nnotice of her timid and yet confident approach. 'Daughter, I know\nall about it--all thy wanderings and thy vile transgressions: I know\nthem all, and My love is mightier than all these. They may be as the\ngreat sea, but my love is like the everlasting mountains, whose\nroots go down beneath the ocean, and My love is like the everlasting\nheaven, whose brightness covers it all over.' God's love is Christ's\nlove; Christ's love is God's love. And this is the lesson that we\ngather--that that infinite and divine loving-kindness does not turn\naway from thee, my brother and my friend, because thou art a sinner,\nbut remains hovering about thee, with wooing invitations and with\ngentle touches, if it may draw thee to repentance, and open a\nfountain of answering affection in thy seared and dry heart. The\nlove of God is deeper than all our sins. 'For His great love\nwherewith He loved us, when we were dead in sins, He quickened us.'\n\nSin is but the cloud behind which the everlasting sun lies in all\nits power and warmth, unaffected by the cloud; and the light will\nyet strike, the light of His love will yet pierce through, with its\nmerciful shafts bringing healing in their beams, and dispersing all\nthe pitchy darkness of man's transgression. And as the mists gather\nthemselves up and roll away, dissipated by the heat of that sun in\nthe upper sky, and reveal the fair earth below--so the love of\nChrist shines in, molting the mist and dissipating the fog, thinning\nit off in its thickest places, and at last piercing its way right\nthrough it, down to the heart of the man that has been lying beneath\nthe oppression of this thick darkness, and who thought that the fog\nwas the sky, and that there was no sun there above. God be thanked!\nthe everlasting love of God that comes from the depth of His own\nbeing, and is there because of Himself, will never be quenched\nbecause of man's sin.\n\nAnd so, in the next place, Christ teaches us here that this divine\nlove, when it comes forth among sinners, necessarily manifests\nitself first in the form of forgiveness. There was nothing to be\ndone with the debtors until the debt was wiped out; there was no\npossibility of other gifts of the highest sort being granted to\nthem, until the great score was cancelled and done away with. When\nthe love of God comes down into a sinful world, it must come first\nand foremost as pardoning mercy. There are no other terms upon which\nthere can be a union betwixt the loving-kindness of God, and the\nemptiness and sinfulness of my heart, except only this--that first\nof all there shall be the clearing away from my soul of the sins\nwhich I have gathered there, and then there will be space for all\nother divine gifts to work and to manifest themselves. Only do not\nfancy that when we speak about forgiveness, we simply mean that a\nman's position in regard to the penalties of sin is altered. That is\nnot all the depth of the scriptural notion of forgiveness. It\nincludes far more than the removal of outward penalties. The heart\nof it all is, that the love of God rests upon the sinner, unturned\naway even by his sins, passing over his sins, and removing his sins\nfor the sake of Christ. My friend, if you are talking in general\nterms about a great divine loving-kindness that wraps you round--if\nyou have a great deal to say, apart from the Gospel, about the love\nof God as being your hope and confidence--I want you to reflect on\nthis, that the first word which the love of God speaks to sinful men\nis pardon; and unless that is your notion of God's love, unless you\nlook to that as the first thing of all, let me tell you, you may\nhave before you a very fair picture of a very beautiful, tender,\ngood-natured benevolence, but you have not nearly reached the height\nof the vigour and yet the tenderness of the Scripture notion of the\nlove of God. It is not a love which says, 'Well, put sin on one\nside, and give the man the blessings all the same,' not a love which\nhas nothing to say about that great fact of transgression, not a\nlove which gives it the go-by, and leaves it standing: but a love\nwhich passes into the heart through the portal of pardon, a love\nwhich grapples with the fact of sin first, and has nothing to say to\na man until it has said that message to him.\n\nAnd but one word more on this part of my subject--here we see the\nlove of God thus coming from Himself; not turned away by man's sins;\nbeing the cause of forgiveness; expressing itself in pardon; and\nlast of all, demanding service. 'Simon, thou gavest Me no water,\nthou gavest Me no kiss, My head thou didst not anoint: I expected\nall these things from thee--I desired them all from thee: My love\ncame that they might spring in thy heart; thou hast not given them;\nMy love is wounded, as it were disappointed, and it turns away from\nthee!' Yes, after all that we have said about the freeness and\nfullness, the unmerited, and uncaused, and unmotived nature of that\ndivine affection--after all that we have said about its being the\nsource of every blessing to man, asking nothing from him, but giving\neverything to him; it still remains true, that God's love, when it\ncomes to men, comes that it may evoke an answering echo in the human\nheart, and 'though it might be much bold to enjoin, yet for love's\nsake rather beseeches' us to give unto Him who has given all unto\nus. There, then, stands forth in the narrative, Christ as a\nrevelation of the divine love amongst sinners.\n\nII. Now, in the second place, let us look for a moment at 'this\nwoman' as the representative of a class of character--the penitent\nlovingly recognising the divine love.\n\nThe words which I have read as my text contain a statement as to the\nwoman's character: 'Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she\nloved much.' Allow me just one word of explanation, in the shape of\nexposition, on these words. Great blunders have been built upon\nthem. I dare say you have seen epitaphs--(I have)--written often on\ngravestones with this misplaced idea on them--'Very sinful; but\nthere was a great deal of love in the person; and for the sake of\nthe love, God passed by the sin!' Now, when Christ says 'She loved\nmuch,' He does not mean to say that her love was the cause of her\nforgiveness--not at all. He means to say that her love was the proof\nof her forgiveness, and that it was so because her love was a\nconsequence of her forgiveness. As, for instance, we might say, 'The\nwoman is in great distress, for she weeps'; but we do not mean\nthereby that the weeping is the reason of the distress, but the\nmeans of our knowing the sorrow. It is the proof because it is the\nconsequence. Or (to put it into the simplest shape) the love does\nnot go before the forgiveness, but the forgiveness goes before the\nlove; and because the love comes after the forgiveness, it is the\nsign of the forgiveness. That this is the true interpretation, you\nwill see if you look back for a moment at the narrative which\nprecedes, where He says, 'He frankly forgave them both: tell me,\ntherefore, which of them will love him most?' Pardon is the\npre-requisite of love, and love is a consequence of the sense of\nforgiveness.\n\nThis, then, is the first thing to observe: all true love to God is\npreceded in the heart by these two things--a sense of sin, and an\nassurance of pardon. Brethren, there is no love possible--real,\ndeep, genuine, worthy of being called love of God--which does not\nstart with the belief of my own transgression, and with the thankful\nreception of forgiveness in Christ. You do nothing to get pardon for\nyourselves; but unless you have the pardon you have no love to God.\nI know that sounds a very hard thing--I know that many will say it\nis very narrow and very bigoted, and will ask, 'Do you mean to tell\nme that the man whose bosom glows with gratitude because of earthly\nblessings, has no love--that all that natural religion which is in\npeople, apart from this sense of forgiveness in Christ, do you mean\nto tell me that this is not all genuine?' Yes, most assuredly; and I\nbelieve the Bible and man's conscience say the same thing. I do not\nfor one moment deny that there may be in the hearts of those who are\nin the grossest ignorance of themselves as transgressors, certain\nemotions of instinctive gratitude and natural religiousness, directed\nto some higher power dimly thought of as the author of their blessings\nand the source of much gladness: but has that kind of thing got any\nliving power in it? I demur to its right to be called love to God at\nall, for this reason--because it seems to me that the object that is\nloved is not God, but a fragment of God. He who but says, 'I owe to\nHim breath and all things; in Him I live and move, and have my being,'\nhas left out one-half at least of the Scriptural conception of God.\nYour God, my friend, is not the God of the Bible, unless He stands\nbefore you clothed in infinite loving-kindness indeed; but clothed\nalso in strict and rigid justice. Is your God perfect and entire? If\nyou say that you love Him, and if you do so, is it as the God and\nFather of our Lord Jesus Christ? Have you meditated on the depths of\nthe requirements of His law? Have you stood silent and stricken at\nthe thought of the blaze of His righteousness? Have you passed through\nall the thick darkness and the clouds with which He surrounds His\nthrone, and forced your way at last into the inner light where He\ndwells? Or is it a vague divinity that you worship and love? Which?\nAh, if a man study his Bible, and try to find out for himself, from\nits veracious records, who and what manner of God the living God is,\nthere will be no love in his heart to that Being except only when he\nhas flung himself at His feet, and said, 'Father of eternal purity,\nand God of all holiness and righteousness, forgive Thy child, a\nsinful broken man--forgive Thy child, for the sake of Thy Son!' That,\nand that alone, is the road by which we come to possess the love of\nGod, as a practical power, filling and sanctifying our souls; and\nsuch is the God to whom alone our love ought to be rendered; and I\ntell you (or rather the Bible tells you, and the Gospel and the\nCross of Christ tell you), there is no love without pardon, no\nfellowship and sonship without the sense of sin and the\nacknowledgment of foul transgression!\n\nSo much, then, for what precedes the love of Christ in the heart;\nnow a word as to what follows. 'Her sins, which are many, are\nforgiven; for she loved much.' The sense of sin precedes\nforgiveness: forgiveness precedes love; love precedes all acceptable\nand faithful service. If you want to do, love. If you want to know,\nlove. This poor woman knew Christ a vast deal better than that\nPharisee there. He said, 'This man is not a prophet; He does not\nunderstand the woman.' Ay, but the woman knew herself better than\nthe Pharisee knew himself, knew herself better than the Pharisee\nknew her, knew Christ, above all, a vast deal better than he did.\nLove is the gate of all knowledge.\n\nThis poor woman brings her box of ointment, a relic perhaps of past\nevil life, and once meant for her own adornment, and pours it on His\nhead, lavishes offices of service which to the unloving heart seem\nbold in the giver and cumbersome to the receiver. It is little she\ncan do, but she does it. Her full heart demands expression, and is\nrelieved by utterance in deeds. The deeds are spontaneous, welling\nout at the bidding of an inward impulse, not drawn out by the force\nof an external command. It matters not what practical purpose they\nserve. The motive of them makes their glory. Love prompts them, love\njustifies them, and His love interprets them, and His love accepts\nthem. The love which flows from the sense of forgiveness is the\nsource of all obedience as well as the means of all knowledge.\n\nBrethren, we differ from each other in all respects but one, 'We\nhave all sinned and come short of the glory of God'; we all need the\nlove of Christ; it is offered to us all; but, believe me, the sole\nhandle by which you can lay hold of it, is the feeling of your own\nsinfulness and need of pardon. I preach to you a love that you do\nnot need to buy, a mercy that you do not need to bribe, a grace that\nis all independent of your character, and condition, and merits,\nwhich issues from God for ever, and is lying at your doors if you\nwill take it. You are a sinful man; Christ died for you. He comes to\ngive you His forgiving mercy. Take it, be at rest. So shalt thou\nlove and know and do, and so shall He love and guide thee!\n\nIII. Now one word, and then I have done. A third character stands\nhere--the unloving and self-righteous man, all ignorant of the love\nof Christ.\n\nHe is the antithesis of the woman and her character. You remember\nthe traditional peculiarities and characteristics of the class to\nwhich he belonged. He is a fair specimen of the whole of them.\nRespectable in life, rigid in morality, unquestionable in orthodoxy;\nno sound of suspicion having ever come near his belief in all the\ntraditions of the elders; intelligent and learned, high up among the\nranks of Israel! What was it that made this man's morality a piece\nof dead nothingness? What was it that made his orthodoxy just so\nmany dry words, from out of which all the life had gone? What was\nit? This one thing: there was no love in it. As I said, Love is the\nfoundation of all obedience; without it, morality degenerates into\nmere casuistry. Love is the foundation of all knowledge; without it,\nreligion degenerates into a chattering about Moses, and doctrines,\nand theories; a thing that will neither kill nor make alive, that\nnever gave life to a single soul or blessing to a single heart, and\nnever put strength into any hand for the conflict and strife of\ndaily life. There is no more contemptible and impotent thing on the\nface of the earth than morality divorced from love, and religious\nthoughts divorced from a heart full of the love of God. Quick\ncorruption or long decay, and in either case death and putrefaction,\nare the end of these. You and I need that lesson, my friends. It is\nof no use for us to condemn Pharisees that have been dead and in\ntheir graves for nineteen hundred years. The same thing besets us\nall; we all of us try to get away from the centre, and dwell\ncontented on the surface. We are satisfied to take the flowers and\nstick them into our little gardens, without any roots to them, when\nof course they all die out! People may try to cultivate virtue\nwithout religion, and to acquire correct notions of moral and\nspiritual truth; and partially and temporarily they may succeed, but\nthe one will be a yoke of bondage, and the other a barren theory. I\nrepeat, love is the basis of all knowledge and of all right-doing.\nIf you have got that firm foundation laid in the soul, then the\nknowledge and the practice will be builded in God's own good time;\nand if not, the higher you build the temple, and the more aspiring\nare its cloud-pointing pinnacles, the more certain will be its\ntoppling some day, and the more awful will be the ruin when it\ncomes. The Pharisee was contented with himself, and so there was no\nsense of sin in him, therefore there was no penitent recognition of\nChrist as forgiving and loving him, therefore there was no love to\nChrist. Because there was no love, there was neither light nor heat\nin his soul, his knowledge was barren notions, and his painful\ndoings were soul-destructive self-righteousness.\n\nAnd so it all comes round to the one blessed message: My friend, God\nhath loved us with an everlasting love. He has provided an eternal\nredemption and pardon for us. If you would know Christ at all, you\nmust go to Him as a sinful man, or you are shut out from Him\naltogether. If you _will_ go to Him as a sinful being, fling\nyourself down there, not try to make yourself better, but say, 'I am\nfull of unrighteousness and transgression; let Thy love fall upon me\nand heal me'; you will get the answer, and in your heart there shall\nbegin to live and grow up a root of love to Him, which shall at last\neffloresce into all knowledge and unto all purity of obedience; for\nhe that hath had much forgiveness, loveth much; and 'he that loveth\nknoweth God,' and 'dwelleth in God, and God in Him'!\n\n\n\n\nGO INTO PEACE\n\n\n    'And He said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee:\n    go in peace.'--LUKE vii. 50.\n\nWe find that our Lord twice, and twice only, employs this form of\nsending away those who had received benefits from His hand. On both\noccasions the words were addressed to women: once to this woman, who\nwas a sinner, and who was gibbeted by the contempt of the Pharisee\nin whose house the Lord was; and once to that poor sufferer who\nstretched out a wasted hand to lay upon the hem of His garment, in\nthe hope of getting healing--filching it away unknown to the Giver.\nIn both cases there is great tenderness; in the latter case even\nmore so than in the present, for there He addressed the tremulous\ninvalid as 'daughter'; and in both cases there is a very remarkable\nconnection hinted at between faith and peace; 'Thy faith hath saved\nthee, go in peace.'\n\nNow, there are three things that strike me about these words; the\nfirst of them is this--\n\nI. The dismissal of the woman.\n\nOne might have expected that our Lord would have flung the shield of\nHis companionship, for a little while, at any rate, over this\npenitent, and so have saved her from the scoffs and sneers of her\nneighbours, who knew that she was a sinner. One might have supposed\nthat the depth of her gratitude, as expressed by her costly offering\nand by her tears, would have spoken to His heart, and that He would\nhave let her stop beside Him for a little while; but no! Jesus said\nto her in effect; 'You have got what you wished; go away, and take\ncare of it.' Such a dismissal is in accordance with the way in which\nHe usually acted. For very seldom indeed, after He had gathered the\nfirst nucleus of four disciples, do we find that He summoned any\nindividual to His side. Generally He broke the connection between\nHimself and the recipients of His benefits at as early a moment as\npossible, and dismissed them. And that was not only because He did\nnot wish to be surrounded and hampered by a crowd of slightly\nattached disciples, but for two other reasons; one, the good of the\npeople themselves, and the other, that, scattered all over northern\nPalestine, they might in their several circles become centres of\nlight and evangelists for the King. He dispersed them that He might\nfling the seed broadcast over the land.\n\nJesus Christ says to us, if we have been saved by our faith, 'Go!'\nAnd He intends two things thereby. First, to teach us that it is\ngood for us to stand by ourselves, to feel responsibility for the\nordering of our lives, not to have a visible Presence at our sides\nto fall back upon, but to grow by solitude. There is no better way\nof growing reliant, of becoming independent of circumstances, and in\nthe depths of our own hearts being calm, than by being deprived of\nvisible stay and support, and thus drawing closer and closer to our\nunseen Companion, and leaning harder and heavier upon Him. 'It is\nexpedient for you that I go away.' For solitude and self-reliance,\nwhich is bottomed upon self-distrust and reliance upon Him, are the\nthings that make men and women strong. So, if ever He carries us\ninto the desert, if ever He leaves us forsaken and alone, as we\nthink, if ever He seems--and sometimes He does with some people, and\nit is only seeming--to withdraw Himself from us, it is all for the\none purpose, that we may grow to be mature men and women, not always\nchildren, depending upon go-carts of any kind, and nurses' hands and\nleading-strings. Go, and alone with Christ realise by faith that you\nare not alone. Christian men and women, have you learned that\nlesson--to be able to do without anybody and anything because your\nwhole hearts are filled, and your courage is braced up and\nstrengthened by the thought that the absent Christ is the present\nChrist?\n\nThere is another reason, as I take it, for which this separation of\nthe new disciple from Jesus was so apparently mercilessly and\nperpetually enforced. At the very moment when one would have thought\nit would have done this woman good to be with the Lord for a little\nwhile longer, she is sent out into the harshly judging world. Yes,\nthat is always the way by which Christian men and women that have\nreceived the blessing of salvation through faith can retain it, and\nserve Him--by going out among men and doing their work there. The\nwoman went home. I dare say it was a home, if what they said about\nher was true, that sorely needed the leavening which she now would\nbring. She had been a centre of evil. She was to go away back to the\nvery place where she had been such, and to be a centre of good. She\nwas to contradict her past by her present which would explain itself\nwhen she said she had been with Jesus. For the very same reason for\nwhich to one man that besought to be with Him, He said, 'No, no! go\naway home and tell your friends what great things God has done for\nyou,' He said to this woman, and He says to you and me, 'Go, and\nwitness for Me.' Communion with Him is blessed, and it is meant to\nissue in service for Him. 'Let us make here three tabernacles,' said\nthe Apostle; and there was scarcely need for the parenthetical\ncomment, 'not knowing what he said.' But there was a demoniac boy\ndown there with the rest of the disciples, and they had been trying\nin vain to free him from the incubus that possessed him, and as long\nas that melancholy case was appealing to the sympathy and help of\nthe transfigured Christ, it was no time to stop on the Mount.\nAlthough Moses and Elias were there, and the voice from God was\nthere, and the Shechinah cloud was there, all were to be left, to go\ndown and do the work of helping a poor, struggling child. So Jesus\nChrist says to us, 'Go, and remember that work is the end of\nemotion, and that to do the Master's will in the world is the surest\nway to realise His presence.'\n\nII. Now, the second point I would suggest is--\n\nThe region into which Christ admitted this woman. It is remarkable\nthat in the present case, and in that other to which I have already\nreferred, the phraseology employed is not the ordinary one of that\nfamiliar Old Testament leave-taking salutation, which was the\n'goodbye' of the Hebrews, 'Go in peace.' But we read occasionally in\nthe Old Testament a slight but eloquent variation. It is not 'Go in\npeace,' as our Authorised Version has it, but 'Go into peace,' and\nthat is a great deal more than the other. 'Go in peace' refers to\nthe momentary emotion; 'Go into peace' seems, as it were, to open\nthe door of a great palace, to let down the barrier on the borders\nof a land, and to send the person away upon a journey through all\nthe extent of that blessed country. Jesus Christ takes up this as He\ndoes a great many very ordinary conventional forms, and puts a\nmeaning into it. Eli had said to Hannah, 'Go into peace.' Nathan had\nsaid to David, 'Go into peace.' But Eli and Nathan could only wish\nthat it might be so; their wish had no power to realise itself.\nChrist takes the water of the conventional salutation and turns it\ninto the wine of a real gift. When He says, 'Go into peace,' He puts\nthe person into the peace which He wishes them, and His word is like\na living creature, and fulfils itself.\n\nSo He says to each of us: 'If you have been saved by faith, I open\nthe door of this great palace. I admit you across the boundaries of\nthis great country. I give you all possible forms of peace for\nyours.' Peace with God--that is the foundation of all--then peace\nwith ourselves, so that our inmost nature need no longer be torn in\npieces by contending emotions, 'I dare not' waiting upon 'I would,'\nand 'I ought' and 'I will' being in continual and internecine\nconflict; but heart and will, and calmed conscience, and satisfied\ndesires, and pure affections, and lofty emotions being all drawn\ntogether into one great wave by the attraction of His love, as the\nmoon draws the heaped waters of the ocean round the world. So our\nsouls at rest in God may be at peace within themselves, and that is\nthe only way by which the discords of the heart can be tuned to one\nkey, into harmony and concord; and the only way by which wars and\ntumults within the soul turn into tranquil energy, and into peace\nwhich is not stagnation, but rather a mightier force than was ever\ndeveloped when the soul was cleft by discordant desires.\n\nIn like manner, the man who is at peace with God, and consequently\nwith himself, is in relations of harmony with all things and with\nall events. 'All things are yours if ye are Christ's.' 'The stars in\ntheir courses fought against Sisera,' because Sisera was fighting\nagainst God; and all creatures, and all events, are at enmity with\nthe man who is in antagonism and enmity to Him who is Lord of them\nall. But if we have peace with God, and peace with ourselves, then,\nas Job says, 'Thou shalt make a league with the beasts of the field,\nand the stones of the field shall be at peace with thee.' 'Thy faith\nhath saved thee; go into peace.'\n\nRemember that this commandment, which is likewise a promise and a\nbestowal, bids us progress in the peace into which Christ admits us.\nWe should be growingly unperturbed and calm, and 'there is no joy\nbut calm,' when all is said and done. We should be more and more\ntranquil and at rest; and every day there should come, as it were, a\ndeeper and more substantial layer of tranquillity enveloping our\nhearts, a thicker armour against perturbation and calamity and\ntumult.\n\nIII. And now there is one last point here that I would suggest,\nnamely:\n\nThe condition on which we shall abide in the Land of Peace.\n\nOur Lord said to both these women: 'Thy faith hath saved thee.' To\nthe other one it was even more needful to say it than to this poor\npenitent prostitute, because that other one had the notion that,\nsomehow or other, she could steal away the blessing of healing by\ncontact of her finger with the robe of Jesus. Therefore He was\ncareful to lift her above that sensuous error, and to show her what\nit was in her that had drawn healing 'virtue' from Him. In substance\nHe says to her: 'Thy faith, not thy forefinger, has joined thee to\nMe; My love, not My garment, has healed thee.'\n\nThere have been, and still are, many copyists of the woman's mistake who\nhave ascribed too much healing and saving power to externals--sacraments,\nrites, and ceremonies. If their faith is real and their longing earnest,\nthey get their blessing, but they need to be educated to understand\nmore clearly what is the human condition of receiving Christ's saving\npower, and that robe and finger have little to do with it.\n\nThe sequence of these two sayings, the one pointing out the channel\nof all spiritual blessing, the other, the bestowment of the great\nblessing of perfect peace, suggests that the peace is conditional on\nthe faith, and opens up to us this solemn truth, that if we would\nenjoy continuous peace, we must exercise continuous faith. The two\nthings will cover precisely the same ground, and where the one stops\nthe other will stop. Yesterday's faith does not secure to-day's\npeace. As long as I hold up the shield of faith, it will quench all\nthe fiery darts of the wicked, but if I were holding it up\nyesterday, and have dropped it to-day, then there is nothing between\nme and them, and I shall be wounded and burned before long. No past\nreligious experience avails for present needs. If you would have\n'your peace' to be 'as the waves of the sea,' your trust in Christ\nmust be continuous and strong. The moment you cease trusting, that\nmoment you cease being peaceful. Keep behind the breakwater, and you\nwill ride smoothly, whatever the storm. Venture out beyond it, and\nyou will be exposed to the dash of the waves and the howling of the\ntempest. Your own past tells you where the means of blessing are. It\nwas your faith that saved you, and it is as you go on believing that\nyou 'Go into peace'.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MINISTRY OF WOMEN\n\n\n    'And certain women, which had been healed of evil\n    spirits and infirmities, Mary called Magdalene, out\n    of whom went seven devils, 3. And Joanna the wife of\n    Chuza, Herod's steward, and Susanna, and many others,\n    which ministered unto Him of their substance.'\n    --LUKE viii. 2,3.\n\nThe Evangelist Luke has preserved for us several incidents in our\nLord's life in which women play a prominent part. It would not, I\nthink, be difficult to bring that fact into connection with the main\ncharacteristics of his Gospel, but at all events it is worth\nobserving that we owe to him those details, and the fact that the\nservice of these grateful women was permanent during the whole of\nour Lord's wandering life after His leaving Galilee. An incidental\nreference to the fact is found in Matthew's account of the\nCrucifixion, but had it not been for Luke we should not have known\nthe names of two or three of them, nor should we have known how\nconstantly they adhered to Him. As to the women of the little group,\nwe know very little about them. Mary of Magdala has had a very hard\nfate. The Scripture record of her is very sweet and beautiful.\nDelivered by Christ from that mysterious demoniacal possession, she\ncleaves to Him, like a true woman, with all her heart. She is one of\nthe little group whose strong love, casting out all fear, nerved\nthem to stand by the Cross when all the men except the gentle\nApostle of love, as he is called, were cowering in corners, afraid\nof their lives, and she was one of the same group who would fain\nhave prolonged their ministry beyond His death, and who brought the\nsweet spices with them in order to anoint Him, and it was she who\ncame to the risen Lord with the rapturous exclamation, 'Rabboni, my\nMaster.' By strange misunderstanding of the Gospel story, she has\nbeen identified with the woman who was a sinner in the previous\nchapter in this book, and her fair fame has been blackened and her\nvery name taken as a designation of the class to which there is no\nreason whatever to believe she belonged. Demoniacal possession was\nneither physical infirmity nor moral evil, however much it may have\nsimulated sometimes the one or the other.\n\nThen as to Joanna the wife of Chuza, Herod's steward, old Church\ntradition tells us that she was the consort of the nobleman whose\nson Christ healed at Capernaum. It does not seem very likely that\nHerod's steward would have been living in Capernaum, and the\nnarrative before us rather seems to show that she herself was the\nrecipient of healing from His hands. However that may be, Herod's\ncourt was not exactly the place to look for Christian disciples, was\nit? But you know they of Caesar's household surrounded with their\nlove the Apostle whom Nero murdered, and it is by no means an\nuncommon experience that the servants' hall knows and loves the\nChrist that the lord in the saloon does not care about.\n\nAnd then as for Susanna, is it not a sweet fate to be known to all\nthe world for ever more by one line only, which tells of her service\nto her Master?\n\nSo I will try to take out of these little incidents in our text some\nplain lessons about this matter of Christian service and ministry to\nChrist, with which it seems to be so full. It will apply to\nmissionary work and all other sorts of work, and perhaps will take\nus down to the bottom of it all, and show us the foundation on which\nit should all rest.\n\nLet me ask you for a moment to look with me first of all at the\ncentre figure, as being an illustration of--what shall I say? may I\nventure to use a rough word and say the pauper Christ?--as the great\nPattern and Motive for us, of the love that becomes poor. We very\noften cover the life of our Lord with so much imaginative reverence\nthat we sometimes lose the hard angles of the facts of it. Now, I\nwant you to realise it, and you may put it into as modern English as\nyou like, for it will help the vividness of the conception, which is\na simple, prosaic fact, that Jesus Christ was, in the broadest\nmeaning of the word, a pauper; not indeed with the sodden poverty\nthat you can see in our slums, but still in a very real sense of the\nword. He had not a thing that He could call His own, and when He\ncame to the end of His life there was nothing for His executioners\nto gamble for except His one possession, the seamless robe. He is\nhungry, and there is a fig-tree by the roadside, and He comes,\nexpecting to get His breakfast off that. He is tired, and He borrows\na fishing-boat to lie down and sleep in. He is thirsty, and He asks\na woman of questionable character to give Him a draught of water. He\nwants to preach a sermon about the bounds of ecclesiastical and\ncivil society, and He says, 'Bring Me a penny.' He has to be\nindebted to others for the beast of burden on which He made His\nmodest entry into Jerusalem, for the winding sheet that wrapped Him,\nfor the spices that would embalm Him, for the grave in which He lay.\nHe was a pauper in a deeper sense of the word than His Apostle when\nhe said, 'Having nothing, and yet possessing all things, as poor,\nand yet making many rich.' For let us remember that the great\nmystery of the Gospel system--the blending together in one act and\nin one Person all the extremes of lowliness and of the loftiness\nwhich go deep down into the very profundities of the Gospel, is all\nhere dramatised, as it were, and drawn into a picturesque form on\nthe very surface; and the same blending together of poverty and\nabsolute love, which in its loftiest form is the union in one Person\nof Godhead and of manhood, is here for us in this fact, that all the\ndark cloud of poverty, if I may so say, is shot through with strange\ngleams of light like sunshine caught and tangled in some cold, wet\nfog, so that whenever you get some definite and strange mark of\nChrist's poverty, you get lying beside it some definite and strange\nmark of His absoluteness and His worth. For instance, take the\nillustration I have already referred to--He borrows a fishing-boat\nand lies down, weary, to sleep on the wooden pillow at the end of\nit; aye, but He rises and He says, 'Peace, be still,' and the waves\nfall. He borrows the upper room, and with a stranger's wine and\nanother man's bread He founds the covenant and the sacrament of His\nnew kingdom. He borrows a grave; aye, but He comes out of it, the\nLord both of the dead and of the living. And so we have to say,\n'Consider the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, though He was\nrich, yet for our sakes became poor, that we through His poverty\nmight become rich.'\n\nThe noblest life that was ever lived upon earth-I hope you and I\nthink it is a great deal more than that, but we all think it is that\nat any rate--the noblest life that was ever lived upon earth was the\nlife of a poor man. Remember that pure desires, holy aspirations,\nnoble purposes, and a life peopled with all the refinement and\ncharities that belong to the spirit, and that is ever conscious of\nthe closest presence of God and of the innate union with Him, is\npossible under such conditions, and so remember that the pauper\nChrist is, at the least, the perfect Man.\n\nBut then what I more immediately intended was to ask you to take\nthat central figure with this external fact of His poverty, of the\ndepth of His true inanition, the emptying of Himself for our sakes,\nas being the great motive, and Oh! thank God that with all humility,\nwe may venture to say, the great Pattern to which you and I have to\nconform. There is the reason why we say, 'I love to speak His name,'\nthere is the true measure of the devotion of the consecration and\nthe self-surrender which He requires. Christ gave all for us even to\nthe uttermost circumference of external possession, and standing in\nthe midst of those for whose sakes He became poor, He turns to them\nwith a modest appeal when He says, 'Minister unto Me, for I have\nmade Myself to need your ministrations for the sake of your\nredemption.' So much, then, for the first point which I would desire\nto urge upon you from this incident before us.\n\nNow, in the next place, and pursuing substantially the same course\nof thought, let me suggest to you to look at the love--the love here\nthat stoops to be served.\n\nIt is a familiar observation and a perfectly true one that we have no\nrecord of our Lord's ever having used miraculous power for the supply\nof His own wants, and the reason for that, I suppose, is to be found\nnot only in that principle of economy and parsimony of miraculous\nenergy, so that the supernatural in His life was ever pared down to\nthe narrowest possible limits, and inosculated immediately with the\nnatural, but it is also to be found in this--let me put it into very\nplain words--that Christ liked to be helped and served by the people\nthat He loved, and that Christ knew that they liked it as well as He.\nIt delighted Him, and He was quite sure that it delighted them. You\nfathers and mothers know what it is when one of your little children\ncomes, and seeing you engaged about some occupation says, 'Let me\nhelp you.' The little hand perhaps does not contribute much to the\nfurtherance of your occupation. It may be rather an encumbrance than\notherwise, but is not there a gladness in saying 'Yes, here, take\nthis and do this little thing for me'? And do not we all know how\nmaimed and imperfect that love is which only gives, and how maimed\nand imperfect that love is which only receives, so that there must\nbe an assumption of both attitudes in all true commerce of affection,\nand that same beautiful flashing backwards and forwards from the two\npoles which makes the sweetness of our earthly love find its highest\nexample there in the heavens. There are the two mirrors facing each\nother, and they reverberate rays from one polished surface to another,\nand so Christ loves and gives, and Christ loves and takes, and His\nservants love and give, and His servants love and take. Sometimes we\nare accustomed to speak of it as the highest sign of our Lord's true,\ndeep conviction that He has given so much to us. It seems to me we may\nwell pause and hesitate whether the mightiness and the wonderfulness\nof His love to us are shown more in that He gives everything to us,\nor in that He takes so much from us. It is much to say, 'The Son of\nman came not to be ministered unto but to minister'; I do not know\nbut that it is more to say that the Son of man let this record be\nwritten: 'Certain women also which ministered to Him of their\nsubstance.' At all events there it stands and for us. What although\nwe have to come and say, 'All that I bring is Thine'; what then?\nDoes a father like less to get a gift from his boy because he gave\nhim the shilling to buy it? And is there anything that diminishes\nthe true sweetness of our giving to Christ, and as we may believe\nthe true sweetness to Him of receiving it from us, because we have\nto herald all our offerings, all our love, aspirations, desires,\ntrust, conformity, practical service, substantial help, with the\nold acknowledgment, 'All things come of Thee, and of Thine own have\nwe given Thee.'\n\nNow, dear friends, all these principles which I have thus\nimperfectly touched upon as to the necessity of the blending of the\ntwo sides in all true commerce of love, the giving and bestowing the\nexpression of the one affection in both hearts, all bears very\ndirectly upon the more special work of Christian men in spreading\nthe name of Christ among those who do not know it. You get the same\neconomy of power there that I was speaking about. The supernatural\nis finished when the divine life is cast into the world. 'I am come\nto fling fire upon the earth,' said He, 'and oh, that it were\nalready kindled!' _There_ is the supernatural; after that you\nhave to deal with the thing according to the ordinary laws of human\nhistory and the ordinary conditions of man's society. God trusts the\nspread of His word to His people; there will not be one moment's\nduration of the barely, nakedly supernatural beyond the absolute\nnecessity. Christ comes; after that you and I have to see to it, and\nthen you say, 'Collections, collections, collections, it is always\ncollections. This society and that society and the other society,\nthere is no end of the appeals that are made. Charity sermons--men\nusing the highest motives of the Gospel for no purpose but to get a\nshilling or two out of people's pockets. I am tired of it.' Very\nwell; all I have to say is, first of all, 'Ye have not resisted unto\nblood'; some people have had to pay a great deal more for their\nGospel than you have. And another thing, a man that had lost a great\ndeal more for his Master than ever you or I will have to do, said,\n'Unto me who am less than the least of all saints is this grace\ngiven, that I should preach amongst the heathen the unsearchable\nriches of Christ.' Ah! a generous, chivalrous spirit, a spirit\ntouched to fine issues by the fine touch of the Lord's love, will\nfeel that it is no burden; or if it be a burden, it is only a burden\nas a golden crown heavy with jewels may be a burden on brows that\nare ennobled by its pressure. This grace is given, and He has\ncrowned us with the honour that we may serve Him and do something\nfor Him.\n\nDear brethren! of all the gracious words that our Master has spoken\nto us, I know not that there is one more gracious than when He said,\n'Go into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature'; and\nof all the tender legacies that He has left His Church, though there\nbe included amongst these His own peace and His own Spirit, I know\nnot that there is any more tender or a greater sign of His love\ntowards us and His confidence in us than when departing to the far\ncountry to receive a kingdom and to return, He gave authority to His\nservants, and to every man his work.'\n\nAnd so, in the next place, let me ask you to look for a moment at\nthe complement to this love that stoops to serve and delights to\nserve--the ministry or service of our love. Let me point to two\nthings.\n\nIt seems to me that the simple narrative we have before us goes very\ndeep into the heart of this matter. It gives us two things--the\nfoundation of the service and the sphere of the service.\n\nFirst there is the foundation--'Certain women which had been healed\nof evil spirits and infirmities.' Ah, there you come to it! The\nconsciousness of redemption is the one master touch that evokes the\ngratitude which aches to breathe itself in service. There is no\nservice except it be the expression of love. That is the one great\nChristian principle; and the other is that there is no love that\ndoes not rest on the consciousness of redemption; and from these\ntwo--that all service and obedience are the utterance and eloquence\nof love, and that all love has its root in the sense of redemption--you\nmay elaborate all the distinct characteristics and peculiarities\nof Christian ethics, whereby duty becomes gladness. 'I will,' and 'I\nought' overlap and cover each other like two of Euclid's triangles;\nand whatsoever He commands that I spring to do; and so though the\nburden be heavy, considered in regard to its requirements, and\nthough the yoke do often press, considered _per se_, yet\nbecause the cords that fasten the yoke to our neck are the cords of\nlove, I can say, 'My burden is light.' One of the old psalms puts it\nthus; 'O Lord, truly I am Thy servant; Thou hast loosed my bonds;\nand because Thou hast loosed, therefore O hear me; speak, Lord, for\nThy servant heareth.'\n\nSo much then for the foundation--now for the sphere. 'Ah,' you say,\n'there is no parallel there, at any rate. These women served Him\nwith personal ministration of their substance.' Well, I think there\nis a parallel notwithstanding. If I had time I should like to dwell\nupon the side thoughts connected with that sphere of service, and\nremind you how very prosaic were their common domestic duties,\nlooking after the comfort of Christ and the travel-stained Twelve\nwho were with Him--let us put it into plain English--cooking their\ndinners for them, and how that became a religious act. Take the\nlesson out of it, you women in your households, and you men in your\ncounting-houses and behind your counters, and you students at your\ndictionaries and lexicons. The commonest things done for the Master\nflash up into worship, or as good old George Herbert puts it--\n\n  'A servant with this clause\n  Makes drudgery divine;\n  Who sweeps a room, as for Thy cause,\n  Makes that and th' action fine.'\n\nBut then beyond that, is there any personal ministration to do? If\nany of you have ever been in St. Mark's Convent at Florence, I dare\nsay you will remember that in the Guest Chamber the saintly genius\nof Fra Angelico has painted, as an appropriate frontispiece, the two\npilgrims on the road to Emmaus, praying the unknown man to come in\nand partake of their hospitality; and he has draped them in the\nhabit of his order, and he has put Christ as the Representative of\nall the poor and wearied and wayworn travellers that might enter in\nthere and receive hospitality, which is but the lesson, 'Inasmuch as\nye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have\ndone it unto Me.'\n\nAnd there is another thing, dear friends. Do we not minister to Him\nbest when we do the thing that is nearest His heart and help Him\nmost in the purpose of His life and in His death? What would you\nthink of a would-be helper of some great reformer who said: 'I will\ngive you all sorts of material support; but I have not a grain of\nsympathy with the cause to which you have devoted your life. I think\nit is madness and nonsense: I will feed you and house you and make\nyou comfortable, but I do not care one rush for the object for which\nyou are to be housed and fed and made comfortable.' Jesus Christ let\nthese poor women help Him that He might live to bear the Cross; He\nlets you and me help Him for that for which on the Cross He died;\n'This honour have all the saints'; The foundation of our service is\nthe consciousness of redemption; its sphere is ministering to Him in\nthat which is nearest His heart.\n\nAnd then, brethren, there is another thing that does not so\nimmediately belong to the incident before us, but which suggests\nitself to me in connection with it. We have tried to show the motive\nand the pattern, the foundation and the sphere, of the service: let\nme add a last thought--the remembrance and the record of it.\n\nHow strange that is, that just as a beam of light coming into a room\nwould enable us to see all the motes dancing up and down that lay in\nits path, so the beam from Christ's life shoots athwart the society\nof His age, and all those little insignificant people come for a\nmoment into the full lustre of the light. Years before and years\nafterward they lived, and we do not know anything about them; but\nfor an instant they crossed the illuminated track and there they\nblazed. How strange Pharisees, officials, and bookmen of all sorts\nwould have felt if anybody had said to them: 'Do you see that\nhandful of travel-stained Galileans there, those poor women you have\njust passed by the way? Well, do you know that these three women's\nnames will never perish as long as the world lasts?' So we may learn\nthe eternity of work done for Him. Ah, a great deal of it may be\nforgotten and unrecorded! How many deeds of faithful love and noble\ndevotion are all compressed into those words, 'which ministered unto\nHim'! It is the old story of how life shrinks, and shrinks, and\nshrinks in the record. How many acres of green forest ferns in the\nlong ago time went to make up a seam of coal as thick as a sixpence?\nBut still there is the record, compressed indeed, but existent.\n\nAnd how many names may drop out and not be associated with the work\nwhich they did? Do you not think that these anonymous 'many others\nwhich ministered' were just as dear to Jesus Christ as Mary and\nJoanna and Susannah? A great many people helped Him whose deeds are\nrelated in the Gospel, but whose names are not recorded. But what\ndoes it matter about that? With many 'others of my fellow-labourers\nalso,' says St. Paul; 'whose names'--well, I have forgotten them;\nbut that is of little consequence; they 'are in the Lamb's book of\nlife.' And so the work is eternal, and will last on in our blessed\nconsciousness and in His remembrance who will never forget any of\nit, and we shall self-enfold the large results, even if the rays of\ndying fame may fade.\n\nAnd there is one other thought on this matter of the eternity of the\nwork on which I would just touch for an instant.\n\nHow strange it must be to these women now! If, as I suppose, you and\nI believe, they are living with Christ, they will look up to Him and\nthink, 'Ah! we remember when we used to find your food and prepare\nfor your household comforts, and there Thou art on the throne! How\nstrange and how great our earthly service seems to us now!' So it\nwill be to us all when we get up yonder. We shall have to say,\n'Lord, when saw I Thee?' He will put a meaning into our work and a\nmajesty into it that we know nothing about at present. So, brethren,\naccount the name of His slaves your highest honour, and the task\nthat love gives you your greatest joy. When we have in our poor love\npoorly ministered unto Him who in His great love greatly died for\nus, then, at the last, the wonderful word will be fulfilled: 'Verily\nI say unto you, He shall gird Himself and make them to sit down to\nmeat and will come forth and serve them.'\n\n\n\n\nONE SEED AND DIVERSE SOILS\n\n\n    'And when much people were gathered together, and were\n    come to Him out of every city, He spake by a parable:\n    5. A sower went out to sow his seed: and as he sowed,\n    some fell by the wayside; and it was trodden down, and\n    the fowls of the air devoured it. 6. And some fell upon\n    a rock; and as soon as it was sprung up, it withered\n    away, because it lacked moisture. 7. And some fell\n    among thorns; and the thorns sprang up with it, and\n    choked it. 8. And other fell on good ground, and sprang\n    up, and bare fruit an hundredfold. And when He had said\n    these things, He cried, He that hath ears to hear, let\n    him hear. 9. And His disciples asked Him, saying, What\n    might this parable be? 10. And He said, Unto you it is\n    given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God: but\n    to others in parables; that seeing they might not see,\n    and hearing they might not understand. 11. Now the\n    parable is this; The seed is the word of God. 12. Those\n    by the  way-side are they that hear: then cometh the\n    devil, and taketh away the word out of their hearts,\n    lest they should believe and be saved. 13. They on the\n    rock are they which, when they hear, receive the word\n    with joy; and these have no root, which for a while\n    believe, and in time of temptation fall away. 14. And\n    that which fell among thorns are they, which, when they\n    have heard, go forth, and are choked with cares, and\n    riches, and pleasures of this life, and bring no fruit\n    to perfection. 15. But that on the good ground are\n    they, which in an honest and good heart, having heard\n    the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with patience.'\n    --LUKE viii. 4-16.\n\nLuke is particular in dating this parable as spoken at a time when\ncrowds resorted to Jesus, and the cities of Galilee seemed emptied\nout to hear Him. No illusions as to the depth or worth of this\nexcitement beset Him. Sadly He looked on the eager multitudes,\nbecause He looked through them, and saw how few of them were\nbringing 'an honest and good heart' for the soil of His word. Just\nbecause He saw the shallowness of the momentary enthusiasm, He spoke\nthis pregnant parable from a heavy heart, and as He tells us in His\nexplanation of it to the disciples (ver. 10), uses the parabolic\ngarb as a means of hiding the truth from the unsusceptible, and of\nbringing it home to those who were prepared to receive it. Every\nparable has that double purpose of obscuring and revealing. The\nobscuring is punitive, but the punishment is meant to be remedial.\nGod never cheats men by a revelation that does not reveal, and the\nvery hiding is meant to stimulate to a search which cannot be vain.\n\nThe broad outstanding fact of the parable is tragic. Three failures\nand one success! It may be somewhat lightened by observing that the\nproportion which each 'some' bears to the whole seed-basketful is\nnot told; but with all alleviation, it is sad enough. What a lesson\nfor all eager reformers and apostles of any truth, who imagine that\nthey have but to open their mouths and the world will listen! What a\nwarning for any who are carried off their feet by their apparent\n'popularity'! What a solemn appeal to all hearers of God's message!\n\nI. Commentators have pointed out that all four kinds of soil might\nhave been found close together by the lake, and that there may have\nbeen a sower at work within sight. But the occasion of the parable\nlay deeper than the accident of local surroundings. A path through a\ncornfield is a prosaic enough thing, but one who habitually holds\nconverse with the unseen, and ever sees it shining through the seen,\nbeholds all things 'apparelled in celestial light,' and finds deep\ntruths in commonplace objects. The sower would not intentionally\nthrow seed on the path, but some would find its resting-place there.\nIt would lie bare on the surface of the hard ground, and would not\nbe there long enough to have a chance of germinating, but as soon as\nthe sower's back was turned to go up the next furrow, down would\ncome the flock of thievish birds that fluttered behind him, and bear\naway the grains. The soil might be good enough, but it was so hard\nthat the seed did not get in, but only lay on it. The path was of\nthe same soil as the rest of the field, only it had been trodden\ndown by the feet of passengers, perhaps for many years.\n\nA heart across which all manner of other thoughts have right of way\nwill remain unaffected by the voice of Jesus, if He spoke His\nsweetest, divinest tones, still more when He speaks but through some\nfeeble man. The listener hears the words, but they never get farther\nthan the drum of his ear. They lie on the surface of his soul, which\nis beaten hard, and is non-receptive. How many there are who have\nbeen listening to the preaching of the Gospel, which is in a true\nsense the sowing of the seed, all their lives, and have never really\nbeen in contact with it! Tramp, tramp, go the feet across the path,\nheavy drays of business, light carriages of pleasure, a never-ending\nstream of traffic and noise like that which pours day and night\nthrough the streets of a great city, and the result is complete\ninsensibility to Christ's voice.\n\nIf one could uncover the hearts of a congregation, how many of them\nwould be seen to be occupied with business or pleasures, or some\nfavourite pursuit, even while they sit decorously in their pews! How\nmany of them hear the preacher's voice without one answering thought\nor emotion! How many could not for their lives tell what his last\nsentence was! No marvel, then, that, as soon as its last sound has\nceased, down pounce a whole covey of light-winged fancies and\noccupations, and carry off the poor fragments of what had been so\nimperfectly heard. One wonders what percentage of remembrances of a\nsermon is driven out of the hearers' heads in the first five minutes\nof their walk home, by the purely secular conversation into which\nthey plunge so eagerly.\n\nII. The next class of hearers is represented by seed which has had\nsomewhat better fate, inasmuch as it has sunk some way in, and begun\nto sprout. The field, like many a one in hilly country, had places\nwhere the hard pan of underlying rock had only a thin skin of earth\nover it. Its very thinness helped quick germination, for the rock\nwas near enough to the surface to get heated by the sun. So, with\nundesirable rapidity, growth began, and shoots appeared above ground\nbefore there was root enough made below to nourish them. There was\nonly one possible end for such premature growth--namely, withering\nin the heat. No moisture was to be drawn from the shelf of rock, and\nthe sun was beating fiercely down, so the feeble green stem drooped\nand was wilted.\n\nIt is the type of emotional hearers, who are superficially touched\nby the Gospel, and too easily receive it, without understanding what\nis involved. They take it for theirs 'with joy,' but are strangers\nto the deep exercises of penitence and sorrow which should precede\nthe joy. 'Lightly come, lightly go,' is true in Christian life as\nelsewhere. Converts swiftly made are quickly lost. True, the most\nthorough and permanent change may be a matter of a moment; but, if\nso, into that moment emotions will be compressed like a great river\nforced through a mountain gorge, which will do the work of years.\n\nSuch surface converts fringe all religious revivals. The crowd\nlistening to our Lord was largely made up of them. These were they\nwho, when a ground of offence arose, 'went back, and walked no more\nwith Him.' They have had their successors in all subsequent times of\nreligious movement. Light things are caught up by the wind of a\npassing train, but they soon drop to the ground again. Emotion is\ngood, if there are roots to it. But 'these have no root.' The Gospel\nhas not really touched the depths of their natures, their wills,\ntheir reason, and so they shrivel up when they have to face the toil\nand self-sacrifice inherent in a Christian life.\n\nIII. The third parcel of seed advanced still farther. It rooted and\ngrew. But the soil had other occupants. It was full of seeds of\nweeds and thorns (not thorn _bushes_). So the two crops ran a\nrace, and as ill weeds grow apace, the worse beat, and stifled the\ngreen blades of the springing corn, which, hemmed in and shut out\nfrom light and air, came to nothing.\n\nThe man represented has not made clean work of his religion. He has\nreceived the good seed, but has forgotten that something has to be\ngrubbed up and cast out, as well as something to be taken in, if he\nwould grow the fair fruits of Christian character. He probably has\ncut down the thorns, but has left their roots or seeds where they\nwere. He has fruit of a sort, but it is scanty, crude, and green.\nWhy? Because he has not turned the world out of his heart. He is\ntrying to unite incompatibles, one of which is sure to kill the\nother. His 'thorns' are threefold, as Luke carefully distinguishes\nthem into 'cares and riches and pleasures,' but they are one in\nessence, for they are all 'of this life.' If he is poor, he is\nabsorbed in cares; if rich, he is yet more absorbed in wealth, and\nhis desires go after worldly pleasures, which he has not been\ntaught, by experience of the supreme pleasure of communion with God,\nto despise.\n\nMark that this man does not 'fall away.' He keeps up his Christian\nname to the end. Probably he is a very influential member of the\nchurch, universally respected for his wealth and liberality, but his\nreligion has been suffocated by the other growth. He has fruit, but\nit is not to 'perfection.' If Jesus Christ came to Manchester, one\nwonders how many such Christians He would discover in the chief\nseats in the synagogues.\n\nIV. The last class avoids the defects of the three preceding. The\nsoil is soft, deep, and clean. The seed sinks, roots, germinates,\nhas light and air, and brings forth ripened grain. The 'honest and\ngood heart' in which it lodges has been well characterised as one\n'whose aim is noble, and who is generously devoted to his aim'\n(Bruce, _The Parabolic Teaching of Christ_, p. 33). Such a soul\nChrist recognises as possible, prior to the entrance into it of the\nword. There are dispositions which prepare for the reception of the\ntruth. But not only the previous disposition, but the subsequent\nattitude to the word spoken, is emphasised by our Lord. 'They having\nheard the word, hold it fast.' Docilely received, it is steadily\nretained, or held with a firm grip, whoever and whatever may seek to\npluck it from mind or heart.\n\nFurther, not only tenacity of grasp, but patient perseverance of\neffort after the fruit of Christian character, is needed. There must\nbe perseverance in the face of obstacles within and without, if\nthere is to be fruitfulness. The emblem of growth does not suffice\nto describe the process of Christian progress. The blade becomes the\near, and the ear the full corn, without effort. But the Christian\ndisciple has to fight and resist, and doggedly to keep on in a\ncourse from which many things would withdraw him. The nobler the\nresult, the sorer the process. Corn grows; character is built up as\nthe result, first of worthily receiving the good seed, and then of\npatient labour and much self-suppression.\n\nThese different types of character are capable of being changed. The\npath may be broken up, the rock blasted and removed, the thorns\nstubbed up. We make ourselves fit or unfit to receive the seed and\nbear fruit. Christ would not have spoken the parable if He had not\nhoped thereby to make some of His hearers who belonged to the three\ndefective classes into members of the fourth. No natural,\nunalterable incapacity bars any from welcoming the word, housing it\nin his heart, and bringing forth fruit with patience.\n\n\n\n\nSEED AMONG THORNS\n\n\n    'And that which fell among thorns are they, which,\n    when they have heard, go forth, and are choked with\n    cares, and riches, and pleasures of this life, and\n    bring no fruit to perfection.'--Luke viii. 14.\n\nNo sensible sower would cast his seed among growing thorn-bushes,\nand we must necessarily understand that the description in this\nverse is not meant to give us the picture of a field in which these\nwere actually growing, but rather of one in which they had been\ngrubbed up, and so preparation been made for the sowing of the seed.\nThey had been grubbed up, but they had not been grubbed out. The\nroots were there, although the branches and the stems had been cut\ndown, or if the roots were not there, abundant seeds were lying\nburied, and when the good seed was sown it went into ground full of\nthem--and that was the blunder out of which all the mischief came.\n\nI. These three different instances of failure in this parable\nrepresent to us, first, the seed carried off at the very beginning,\nbefore it has sunk into the ground and before it has had time to\ngerminate. It lies on the surface and it goes at once. But suppose\nit is safely piloted past that first danger, then comes another\nperil. It gets a little deeper into the ground, but there is a shelf\nof rock an inch or two below the skin of soil, and the poor little\nrootlets cannot get through that, and so when the hot Syrian sun\nshines down upon the field, there is an unnatural heat, and a swift\nvegetation. There is growth, but the same sun that at first\nstimulated the unnaturally rapid growth, gets a little hotter or\ncontinues to pour down during the fervid summer and dries up the\npremature vegetation which it had called into feeble life. That\nsecond seed went further on the road towards fruit.\n\nBut suppose a seed is piloted past that second risk, there comes\nthis third one. This seed gets deeper still, and does take root, and\ndoes grow, and does bear fruit. That is to say, this is a picture of\na real Christian, in whom the seed of the kingdom, which is the word\nof God, has taken root, and to whom there has been the communication\nof the divine life that is in the seed; and yet that, too, comes to\ngrief, and our parable tells us how--by three things, the thorns,\nthe growth of the thorns, and the choking of the word.\n\nLuke puts the interpretation of the thorns even more vividly than\nthe other Evangelists, because he represents them as being three\ndifferent forms of one thing, 'cares and riches and pleasures,'\nwhich all come into the one class, 'of this life.' Or, in other\nwords, the present world, with all its various appeals to our animal\nand sensual nature, with all its possible delights for part of our\nbeing, a real and important part of it; and with all the troubles\nand anxieties which it is cowardly for us to shirk, and impossible\nfor us to escape--this world is ever present to each of us, and if\nthere is anything in us to which it appeals, then certainly the\nthorns will come up. The cares and the wealth and the pleasures are\nthree classes of one thing. Perhaps the first chiefly besets\nstruggling people; the second mainly threatens well-to-do people;\nthe third, perhaps, is most formidable to leisurely and idle people.\nBut all three appeal to us all, for in every one of us there are the\nnecessary anxieties of life, and every one of us knows that there is\nreal and substantial good to a part of our being, in the possession\nof a share of this world's wealth, without which no man can live,\nand all of us carry natures to which the delights of sense do\nlegitimately and necessarily appeal.\n\nSo the soil for the growth of the thorns is always in us all. But\nwhat then? Are these things so powerful in our hearts as that they\nbecome hindrances to our Christian life? That is the question. The\ncares and the occupation of mind with, and desire for, the wealth\nand the pleasures are of God's appointment. He did not make them\nthorns, but you and I make them thorns; and the question for us is,\nhas our Christianity driven out the undue regard to this life,\nregarded in these three aspects--undue in measure or in any other\nrespect, by which they are converted into hindrances that mar our\nChristian life? Dear brethren, it is not enough to say, 'I have\nreceived the word into my heart.' There is another question besides\nthat--Has the word received into your heart cast out the thorns? Or\nare they and the seed growing there side by side? The picture of my\ntext is that of a man who, in a real fashion, has accepted the\nGospel, but who has accepted it so superficially as that it has not\nexercised upon him the effect that it ought to produce, of expelling\nfrom him the tendencies which may become hindrances to his Christian\nlife. If we have known nothing of 'the expulsive power of a new\naffection,' and if we thought it was enough to cut down the thickest\nand tallest thorn-bushes, and to leave all the seeds and the roots\nof them in our hearts, no wonder if, as we get along in life, they\ngrow up and choke the word. 'Ye cannot serve God and Mammon'; that\nis just putting into a sentence the lesson of my text.\n\nII. Further, note the growth of the thorns. Luke employs a very\nsignificant phrase. He says, 'When they have heard they _go\nforth_, and are choked with cares and riches and pleasures of\nthis life.' That is to say, the path of daily life upon which we all\nhave to walk, the common duties which necessarily draw us to\nthemselves, will certainly stimulate the growth of the thorns if\nthese are not rooted out. Life is full of appeals to our desires\nafter earthly good or pleasure, to our greed after earthly gain, to\nour dread of earthly sorrow, of pain, of loss, and of poverty. As\nsurely as we are living, and have to go out into the world day by\nday, so surely will the thorns grow if they are left in us. And so\nwe come back to the old lesson that because we are set in this\nworld, with all its temptations that appeal so strongly to many\nneeds and desires of our nature, we must make thorough work of our\nreligion if it is to be of any good to us at all, and we are not to\ngo on the Christian pilgrimage with one foot upon the higher level\nand the other upon the lower, like a man walking with one foot on\nthe kerbstone and the other on the roadway. Let us be one thing or\nthe other, out and out, thorough and  consistent. If we have the\nseed in our hearts, remember that _we_ are responsible for its\ngrowth.\n\nLet us make certain that we have cast out the thorns. There is an\nold German proverb, the vulgarity of which may be excused for its\npoint. 'You must not sit near the fire if your head is made of\nbutter.' We should not try to walk through this wicked world without\nmaking very certain that we have stubbed the thorns out of our\nhearts. Oh, dear friends! here is the secret to the miserable\ninconsistencies of the great bulk of professing Christians. They\nhave got the seed in, but they have not got the thorns out.\n\nIII. Lastly, mark the choking of the growth. Of course it is rapid,\naccording to the old saying, 'Ill weeds grow apace.' 'They are\nchoked with the cares and riches and pleasures of this life and\nbring no fruit to perfection.' The weeds grow faster than the seed.\n'Possession is nine-tenths of the law,' and they have got possession\nof the soil, and their roots go far and strike deep, and so they\ncome up, with their great, strong, coarse, quick-growing stems and\nleaves, and surround the green, infant, slender shoot, and keep the\nair and light out from it, and exhaust all the goodness of the soil,\nwhich has not nutriment in it enough for the modest seed and for the\nself-asserting thorn. And so the thorn beats in the race, and grows\ninches whilst the other grows hairbreadths. Is not that a true\nstatement of our experience? If Christian men and women permit as\nmuch of their interest and affection and effort and occupation of\nmind to go out towards the world and worldly things, as, alas! most\nof us do, no wonder if the tiny, yellow, rather than green, blade is\nchoked and gets covered with parasitical disease, and perhaps dies\nat last. You cannot grow two crops on one field. Some of us have\ntried; it will never do. It must be one thing or another, and we\nmust make up our minds whether we are going to cultivate corn or\nthorn. May God help us to make the right choice of the crop we\ndesire to bear!\n\nOur text tells us that this man, represented by the seed among\nthorns, was a Christian, did, and does, bear fruit, but, as Luke\nsays, 'brings no fruit to perfection.' The first seed never grew at\nall; the second got the length of putting forth a blade; this one\nhas got as far as the ear, but not so far as 'the full corn in the\near.' It has fruited, but the fruit is green and scanty, not\nripened, as it ought to be, since it grows under such a sky and was\ntaken out of such a seed-basket as our seed has come from. It brings\nforth no fruit _to perfection_';--is not that a picture of so\nmany Christian people? One cannot say that they are not Christians.\nOne cannot say that there are no signs of a divine life in them. One\ncannot say but that they do a good many things that are right and\npure, and obviously the result of a Divine Spirit working upon them;\nbut all that they do just falls short of the crowning grace and\nbeauty. There is always something about it that strikes one as being\nincomplete. They are Christian men and Christian women bringing\nforth many of the fruits of the Christian life, but the climax\nsomehow or other is always absent. The pyramid goes up many stages,\nbut there is never the gilded summit flashing in the light--'No\nfruit to perfection.'\n\nDear brethren, let us take our poor, imperfect services, and lay\nthem down at the Master's feet, and ask Him to help us to make clean\nwork of these hearts of ours, and to turn out of them all our\nworldly hankerings after the seen and temporal. Then we shall bear\nfruit that He will gather into His garner. The cares and the\npleasures and the wealth that terminate in, and are occupied with,\nthis poor fleeting present are small and insignificant. Let us try\nto yield ourselves up wholly to the higher influences of that Divine\nSpirit, and in true consecration receive the engrafted word. And\nthen He will give to us to drink of that river of His pleasures,\ndrinking of which we shall not thirst, nor need to come to any of\nearth's fountains to draw. If the Saviour comes in in His power, He\nwill cast out the uncleanness that dwells in us and make us fruitful\nas He would have us to be.\n\n\n\n\nA MIRACLE WITHIN A MIRACLE\n\n\n    'And a woman, having an issue of blood twelve years,\n    which had spent all her living upon physicians,\n    neither could be healed of any, 44. Came behind Him,\n    and touched the border of His garment: and immediately\n    her issue of blood stanched. 45. And Jesus said, Who\n    touched Me? When all denied, Peter, and they that were\n    with Him, said, Master, the multitude throng Thee and\n    press Thee, and sayest Thou, Who touched Me? 46. And\n    Jesus said, Somebody hath touched Me: for I perceive\n    that virtue is gone out of Me. 47. And when the woman\n    saw that she was not hid, she came trembling, and,\n    falling down before Him, she declared unto Him before\n    all the people for what cause she had touched Him, and\n    how she was healed immediately. 48. And He said unto\n    her, Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made\n    thee whole; go in peace.'--LUKE viii. 43-48.\n\nThe story of Jairus's daughter is, as it were, cut in two by that of\nthe poor invalid woman. What an impression of calm consciousness of\npower and of leisurely dignity is made by Christ's having time to\npause, even on His way to a dying sufferer, in order to heal, as if\nparenthetically, this other afflicted one! How Jairus must have\nchafed at the delay! He had left his child 'at the point of death'\nand here was the Healer loitering, as it must have seemed to a\nfather's agony of impatience.\n\nBut Jesus, with His infinite calm and as infinite power, can afford\nto let the one wait and even die, while He tends the other. The\nchild shall receive no harm, and her sister in sorrow has as great a\nclaim on Him as she. He has leisure of heart to feel for each, and\npower for both. We do not rob one another of His gifts. Attending to\none, He does not neglect another.\n\nThis miracle illustrates the genuineness and power of feeble and\nerroneous faith, and Christ's merciful way of strengthening and\nupholding it. The woman, a poor, shrinking creature, has been made\nmore timid by long illness, disappointed hopes of cure, and by\npoverty. She does not venture to stop Jesus, as He goes with an\nimportant official of the synagogue to heal his daughter, but creeps\nup in the crowd behind Him, puts out a wasted, trembling hand to\ntouch the tasselled fringe of His robe--and she is whole.\n\nShe would fain have glided away with a stolen cure, but Jesus forced\nher to stand out before the throng, and with all their eyes on her,\nto conquer diffidence and womanly reticence, and tell all the truth.\nStrange contrast, this, to His usual avoidance of notoriety and\nregard for shrinking weakness! But it was true kindness, for it was\nthe discipline by which her imperfect faith was cleared and\nconfirmed.\n\nIt is easy to point out the imperfections in this woman's faith. It\nwas very ignorant. She was sure that this Rabbi would heal her, but\nshe expected it to be done by the material contact of her finger\nwith His robe. She had no idea that Christ's will, much less His\nlove, had anything to do with His cures. She thinks that she may\ncarry away the blessing, and He be none the wiser. It is easy to\nsay, What blank ignorance of Christ's way of working! what grossly\nsuperstitious notions! Yes, and with them all what a hunger of\nintense desire to be whole, and what absolute confidence that a\nfinger-tip on His robe was enough!\n\nHer faith was very imperfect, but the main fact is that she had it.\nLet us be thankful for a living proof of the genuineness of ignorant\nand even of superstitious faith. There are many now who fall with\nless excuse into a like error with this woman's, by attaching undue\nimportance to externals, and thinking more of the hem of the garment\nand its touch by a finger than of the heart of the wearer and the\ngrasp of faith. But while we avoid such errors, let us not forget\nthat many a poor worshipper clasping a crucifix may be clinging to\nthe Saviour, and that Christ does accept faith which is tied to\noutward forms, as He did this woman's.\n\nThere was no real connection between the touch of her finger and her\nhealing, but she thought that there  was, and Christ stoops to her\nchildish thought, and lets her make the path for His gift.\n'According to thy faith be it unto thee': His mercy, like water,\ntakes the shape of the containing vessel.\n\nThe last part of the miracle, when the cured woman is made the bold\nconfessor, is all shaped so as to correct and confirm her imperfect\nfaith. We note this purpose in every part of it. She had thought of\nthe healing energy as independent of His knowledge and will.\nTherefore she is taught that He was aware of the mute appeal, and of\nthe going out of power in answer to it. The question, 'Who touched\nme?' has been regarded as a proof that Jesus was ignorant of the\nperson; but if we keep the woman's character and the nature of her\ndisease in view, we can suppose it asked, not to obtain information,\nbut to lead to acknowledgment, and that without ascribing to Him in\nasking it any feigning of ignorance.\n\nThe contrast between the pressure of the crowd and the touch of\nfaith has often been insisted on, and carries a great lesson. The\nunmannerly crowd hustled each other, trod on His skirts, and elbowed\ntheir way to gape at Him, and He took no heed. But His heart\ndetected the touch, unlike all the rest, and went out with healing\npower towards her who touched. We may be sure that, though a\nuniverse waits before Him, and the close-ranked hosts of heaven\nstand round His throne, we can reach our hands through them all, and\nget the gifts we need.\n\nShe had shrunk from publicity, most naturally. But if she had stolen\naway, she would have lost the joy of confession and greater\nblessings than the cure. So He mercifully obliges her to stand\nforth. In a moment she is changed from a timid invalid to a\nconfessor. A secret faith is like a plant growing in the dark, the\nstem of which is blanched and weak, and its few blossoms pale and\nnever matured. 'With the mouth confession is made unto salvation.'\n\nChrist's last word to her is tender. He calls her 'Daughter'--the\nonly woman whom He addressed by such a name. He teaches her that her\nfaith, not her finger, had been the medium through which His healing\npower had reached her. He confirms by His authoritative word the\nfurtive blessing: '_Be_ whole of thy plague.' And she goes,\nhaving found more than she sought, and felt a loving heart where she\nhad only seen a magic-working robe.\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST TO JAIRUS\n\n\n    'When Jesus heard it, He answered, saying, Fear not:\n    believe only, and she shall be made whole.'\n    --LUKE viii. 60.\n\nThe calm leisureliness of conscious power shines out very\nbrilliantly from this story of the raising of Jairus's daughter. The\nfather had come to Jesus, in an agony of impatience, and besought\nHim to heal his child, who lay 'at the point of death.' Not a moment\nwas to be lost. Our Lord sets out with him, but on the road pauses\nto attend to another sufferer, the woman who laid her wasted finger\non the hem of Christ's robe. How Jairus must have chafed at the\ndelay, and thought every moment an eternity; and perhaps said hard\nthings In his heart about Christ's apparent indifference! Delay\nseemed to be fatal, for before Christ had finished speaking to the\nwoman, the messenger comes with a word which appears to me to have\nin it a touch of bitterness and of blame. 'Trouble not the Master'\nsounds as if the speaker hinted that the Master was thinking it a\ntrouble, and had not put Himself much about to meet the necessity.\nBut one's gain shall not be another's loss, and Christ does not let\nany applicant to Him suffer whilst He attends to any other. Each has\nan equal claim on His heart. So He turns to the father with the\nwords that I have read for my text.\n\nThey are the first of three sayings of our Lord round which this\nwhole narrative is remarkably grouped. I have read the first, but I\nmean to speak about all three. There is a word of encouragement\nwhich sustains a feeble faith: there is a word of revelation which\nsmooths the grimness of death; 'She is not dead but sleepeth'; and\nthere is a word of power which goes into the darkness, and brings\nback the child; 'Maiden, arise!' Now, I think if we take these\nthree, we get the significance of this whole incident.\n\nI. First, then, the word of cheer which sustains a staggering faith.\n\n'When Jesus heard this, He said unto him, Fear not, believe only,\nand she shall be made whole.' How preposterous this rekindling of\nhope must have seemed to Jairus when the storm had blown out the\nlast flickering spark! How irrelevant, if it were not cruel, the\n'Fear not!' must have sounded when the last possible blow had\nfallen. And yet, because of the word in the middle, embedded between\nthe obligation to hope and the prohibition to fear, neither the one\nnor the other is preposterous, 'Only believe.' That is in the\ncentre; and on the one side,' Fear not!'--a command ridiculous\nwithout it; and on the other side, 'Hope!' an injunction impossible\napart from faith.\n\nJesus Christ is saying the very same things to us. His fundamental\ncommandment is 'Only believe,' and there effloresce from it the two\nthings, courage that never trembles, and hope that never despairs.\n'Only believe'--usually He made the outflow of His miraculous power\ncontingent upon the faith, either of the sufferer himself or of some\nothers. There was no necessity for the connection. We have instances\nin His life of miracles wrought without faith, without asking, simply\nat the bidding of His own irrepressible pity. But the rule in regard\nto His miracles is that faith was the condition that drew out the\nmiraculous energy. The connection between our faith and our experience\nof His supernatural, sustaining, cleansing, gladdening, enlightening\npower is closer than that. For without our trust in Him, He can do\nno mighty works upon us, and there must be confidence, on our part,\nbefore there is in our experience the reception into our lives of His\nhighest blessings; just because they are greater and deeper, and belong\nto a more inward sphere than these outward and inferior miracles of\nbodily healing. Therefore the connection between our faith and His\ngifts to us is inevitable, and constant, and the commandment 'Only\nbelieve,' assumes a more imperative stringency, in regard to our\nspiritual experience, than it ever did in regard to those who felt\nthe power of His miracle-working hand. So it stands for us, as the\none central appeal and exhortation which Christ, by His life, by the\nrecord of His love, by His Cross and Passion, by His dealings and\npleadings with us through His Spirit, and His providence to-day, is\nmaking to us all. 'Only believe'--the one act that vitally knits the\nsoul to Christ, and makes it capable of receiving unto itself the\nfullness of His loftiest blessings.\n\nBut we must note the two clauses which stand on either side of this\ncentral commandment. They deal with two issues of faith. One forbids\nfear, the other gives fuel for the fire of hope. On the one hand,\nthe exhortation, 'Fear not,' which is the most futile that\ncan be spoken if the speaker does not touch the cause of the fear,\ncomes from His lips with a gracious power. Faith is the one\ncounterpoise of fear. There is none other for the deepest dreads\nthat lie cold and paralysing, though often dormant, in every human\nspirit; and that ought to lie there. If a man has not faith in God,\nin Christ, he ought to have fear. For there rise before him,\nsolitary, helpless, inextricably caught into the meshes of this\nmysterious and awful system of things--a whole host of possible, or\nprobable, or certain calamities, and what is he to do? stand there\nin the open, with the pelting of the pitiless storm coming down upon\nhim? The man is an idiot if he is not afraid. And what is to calm\nthose rational fears, the fear of wrath, of life, of death, of what\nlies beyond death? You cannot whistle them away. You cannot ignore\nthem always. You cannot grapple with them in your own strength.\n'Only believe,' says the Comforter and the Courage-bringer. The\nattitude of trust banishes dread, and nothing else will effectually\nand reasonably do it. 'I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear.' Him\nwho can slay and who judges. You have, and you cannot break, a\nconnection with God. He ought to be one of two things--your\nghastliest dread or your absolute trust. 'Only believe then,' 'fear\nnot.' Believe not, _then_ be afraid; for you have reason to be.\n\nMen say, 'Oh! keep your courage up'; and they contribute no means to\nkeep it up: Christ says 'Fear not; only believe,' and gives to faith\nthe courage which He enjoins. Like a child that never dreams of any\nmischief being able to reach it when the mother's breast is beneath\nits head, and the mother's arms are round its little body, each of\nus may rest on Christ's breast, and feel His arm round about us.\nThen we may smile at all that men call evils; and whether they are\npossible, or probable, or certain, we can look at them all and say,\n'Ah! I have circumvented you.' 'All things work together for good to\nthem that' trust Christ. 'Fear not; only believe.'\n\nBut on the other hand, from that simple faith will spring up also\nhope that cannot despair. 'She shall be made whole.' Irreversible\ndisasters have no place in Christian experience. There are no\nirrevocable losses to him who trusts. There are no wounds that\ncannot be stanched, when we go to Him who has the balm and the\nbandage. Although it is true that dead faces do not smile again upon\nus until we get beyond earth's darkness, it is also true that bonds\nbroken may be knit in a finer fashion, if faith instead of sense\nweaves them together; and that in the great future we shall find\nthat the true healing of those that went before was not by\ndeliverance from, but by passing through, the death that emancipates\nfrom the long disease of earthly life.\n\nBrethren! if we trust Christ we may 'hope perfectly.' If we do not\ntrust Him our firmest hopes are as spiders' webs that are swept away\nby a besom; and our deepest desires remain unfulfilled. 'Only\nbelieve,' then, on the one side, 'Fear not,' and on the other side\n'Hope ever.'\n\nII. We have here a word of revelation which softens the grimness of\ndeath.\n\nOur Lord reaches the house of affliction, and finds it a house of\nhubbub and noise. The hired mourners, with their shrill shrieks,\nwere there already, bewailing the child. The tumult jarred upon His\ncalmness, and He says 'Weep not; she is not dead but sleepeth.' One\nwonders how some people have read those words as if they declared\nthat the apparent physical death was only a swoon or a faint, or\nsome kind of coma, and that so there was no miracle at all in the\ncase. 'They laughed Him to scorn; knowing that she was dead.' You\ncan measure the hollowness of their grief by its change into\nscornful laughter when a promise of consolation began to open before\nthem. And you can measure their worth as witnesses to the child's\nresurrection by their absolute certainty of her death.\n\nBut notice that our Lord never forbids weeping unless He takes away\nits cause. 'Weep not,' is another of the futile forms of words with\nwhich men try to encourage and comfort one another. There is nothing\nmore cruel than to forbid tears to the sad heart. Jesus Christ never\ndid that except when He was able to bring that which took away\noccasion for weeping. He lets grief have its way. He means us to run\nrivers of waters down our cheeks when He sends us sorrows. We shall\nnever get the blessing of these till we have felt the bitterness of\nthem. We shall never profit by them if we stoically choke back the\nmanifestations of our grief, and think that it is submissive to be\ndumb. Let sorrow have way. Tears purge the heart from which their\nstreams come. But Jesus Christ says to us all, 'Weep not,' because\nHe comes to us all with that which, if I may so say, puts a rainbow\ninto the tear-drops, and makes it possible that the great paradox\nshould be fulfilled in our hearts, 'As sorrowful yet always\nrejoicing.' Weep not; or if you weep, let the tears have\nthankfulness as well as grief in them. It is a difficult\ncommandment, but it is possible when His lips tell us not to weep,\nand we have obeyed the central exhortation, 'Only believe.'\n\nNote, further, in this second of our Lord's words, how He smooths\naway the grimness of death. I do not claim for Him anything like a\nmonopoly of that most obvious and natural symbolism which regards\ndeath as a sleep. It must have occurred to all who ever looked upon\na corpse. But I do claim that when He used the metaphor, and by His\nuse of it modified the whole conception of death in the thoughts of\nHis disciples, He put altogether different ideas into it from that\nwhich it contained on the lips of others. He meant to suggest the\nidea of repose--\n\n  'Sleep, full of rest from head to foot.'\n\nThe calm immobility of the body so lately racked with pain, or\nrestless in feverish tossings, is but a symbol of the deeper\nstillness of truer repose which remaineth for the people of God and\nlaps the blessed spirits who 'sleep in Jesus.' He meant to suggest\nthe idea of separation from this material world. He did not mean to\nsuggest the idea of unconsciousness. A man is not unconscious when\nhe is asleep, as dreams testify. He meant, above all, if sleep, then\nwaking.\n\nSo the grim fact is smoothed down, not by blinking any of its\naspects, but by looking deeper into them. They who, only believing,\nhave lived a life of courage and of hope, and have fronted sorrows,\nand felt the benediction of tears, pass into the great darkness, and\nknow that they there are rocked to sleep on a loving breast, and,\nsleeping in Jesus, shall wake with the earliest morning light.\n\nThis is a revelation for all His servants. And how deeply these\nwords, and others like them which He spake at the grave of Lazarus\nand at other times, were dinted into the consciousness of the\nChristian Church, is manifested by the fact, not only that they are\nrecurrently used by Apostles in their Epistles, but that all through\nthe New Testament you scarcely ever find the physical fact of\ndissolution designated by the name 'death,' but all sorts of\ngracious paraphrases, which bring out the attractive and blessed\naspects of the thing, are substituted. It is a 'sleep'; it is a\n'putting off the tabernacle'; it is a 'departure'; it is a pulling\nup of the tent-pegs, and a change of place. We do not need the ugly\nword, and we do not need to dread the thing that men call by it. The\nChristian idea of death is not the separation of self from its\nhouse, of the soul from the body, but the separation of self from\nGod, who is the life.\n\nIII. So, lastly, the life-giving word of power.\n\n'Maiden, arise!' All the circumstances of the miracle are marked by\nthe most lovely consideration, on Christ's part, of the timidity of\nthe little girl of twelve years of age. It is because of that that\nHe seeks to raise her in privacy, whereas the son of the widow of\nNain and Lazarus were raised amidst a crowd. It is because of that\nthat He selects as His companions in the room only the three chief\nApostles as witnesses, and the father and mother of the child. It is\nbecause of that that He puts forth His hand and grasps hers, in\norder that the child's eyes when they open should see only the\nloving faces of parents, and the not less loving face of the\nMaster; and that her hand, when it began to move again, should\nclasp, first, His own tender hand. It is for the same reason that\nthe remarkable appendix to the miracle is given--'He commanded that\nthey should give her food.' Surely that is an inimitable note of\ntruth. No legend-manufacturer would have dared to drop down to such\na homely word as that, after such a word as 'Maiden, arise!' An\neconomy of miraculous power is shown here, such as was shown when,\nafter Lazarus came forth, other hands had to untie the grave-clothes\nwhich tripped him as he stumbled along. Christ will do by miracle\nwhat is needful and not one hairs-breadth more. In His calm majesty\nHe bethinks Himself of the hungry child, and entrusts to others the\ntask of giving her food. That homely touch is, to me, indicative of\nthe simple veracity of the historian.\n\nBut the life-giving word itself; what can we say about it? Only this\none thing: here Jesus Christ exercises a manifest divine prerogative.\nIt was no more the syllables that He spoke than it was the touch of\nHis hand that raised the child. What was it? The forth-putting of\nHis will, which went away straight into the darkness; and if the\ndisembodied spirit was in a locality, went straight there; and somehow\nor other, laid hold of the spirit, and somehow or other, reinstated it\nin its home. Christ's will, like the king's writ, runs through all the\nuniverse. 'He spake, and it was done';--whose prerogative is that?\nGod's; and God manifest in the flesh exercised it. The words of the\nIncarnate Word have power over physical things.\n\nHere, too, are the prelude and first-fruits of our resurrection. Not\nthat there are not wide differences between the raising of this\nchild, and that future resurrection to which Christian hope looks\nforward, but that in this one little incident, little, compared with\nthe majestic scale of the latter, there come out these two things--the\ndemonstration that conscious life runs on, irrespective of the accident\nof its being united with or separated from a bodily organisation; and\nthe other, that Jesus Christ has power over men's spirits, and can\nfit them at His will to bodies appropriate to their condition. Time\nis no element in the case. What befalls the particles of the human\nframe is no element in the case. 'Thou sowest not the body that shall\nbe.' But if that Lord had the power which He showed in that one\nchamber, with that one child, then, as a little window may show us\ngreat matters, so we see through this single incident the time when\n'they that are in the graves shall hear His voice, and shall come\nforth.'\n\nBrethren! there is a higher lesson still; He that gives and gives\nagain, physical life, does so as a symbol of the highest gift which\nHe can bestow upon us all. If we 'only believe,' then, 'you hath He\nquickened which were dead in trespasses and sins ... and for His\ngreat love wherewith He loved us.... He hath raised us up together,\nand made us sit together, in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.'\n\n\n\n\nBREAD FROM HEAVEN\n\n\n    'And the apostles, when they were returned, told Him\n    all that they had done. And He took them, and went\n    aside privately into a desert place belonging to the\n    city, called Bethsaida. 11. And the people, when they\n    knew it, followed Him; and He received them, and spake\n    unto them of the kingdom of God, and healed them that\n    had need of healing. 12. And when the day began to\n    wear away, then came the twelve, and said unto Him,\n    Send the multitude away, that they may go into the\n    towns and country round about, and lodge, and get\n    victuals; for we are here in a desert place. 13. But He\n    said unto them, Give ye them to eat. And they said, We\n    have no more but five loaves and two fishes; except we\n    should go and buy meat for all this people. 14. (For\n    they were about five thousand men.) And He said to His\n    disciples, Make them sit down by fifties in a company.\n    15. And they did so, and made them all sit down.\n    16. Then He took the five loaves, and the two fishes;\n    and, looking up to heaven, He blessed them, and brake,\n    and gave to the disciples to set before the multitude.\n    17. And they did eat, and were all filled: and there\n    was taken up of fragments that remained to them twelve\n    baskets.'--LUKE ix. 10-17.\n\nThe Apostles needed rest after their trial trip as evangelists. John\nthe Baptist's death had just been told to Christ. The Passover was\nat hand, and many pilgrims were on the march. Prudence and care for\nHis followers as well as Himself suggested a brief retirement, and\nour Lord sought it at the Eastern Bethsaida, a couple of miles up\nthe Jordan from its point of entrance to the lake. Matthew and Mark\ntell us that He went by boat, which Luke does not seem to have\nknown. Mark adds that the curious crowd, which followed on foot,\nreached the place of landing before Him, and so effectually\ndestroyed all hope of retirement. It was a short walk round the\nnorth-western part of the head of the lake, and the boat would be in\nsight all the way, so that there was no escape for its passengers.\n\nLuke records the self-oblivious cordiality of Christ's reception of\nthe intrusive crowd. Without a sigh or sign of impatience, He\n'welcomed them'--a difficult thing to do, and one which few of us\ncould have achieved. The motives of most of them can have been\nnothing higher than what leads vulgar people of all ranks and\ncountries to buzz about distinguished men, utterly regardless of\ndelicacy or considerateness. They want to see the notoriety, no\nmatter what it costs him. But Jesus received them patiently,\nbecause, as Mark touchingly tells, He was 'moved with pity,' and saw\nin their rude crowding round Him the token of their lack of guides\nand teachers. They seemed to Him, not merely a mob of intrusive\nsight-seers, but like a huddled mass of unshepherded sheep.\n\nChrist's heart felt more lovingly than ours because His eye saw\ndeeper, and His eye saw deeper because His heart felt more lovingly.\nIf we would live nearer Him, we should see, as He did, enough in\nevery man to draw our pity and help, even though he may jostle and\ninterfere with us.\n\nThe short journey to Bethsaida would be in the early morning, and a\nlong day of toil followed instead of the hoped-for quiet. Note that\nsingular expression, 'Them that had need of healing He healed.' Why\nnot simply 'them that were sick'? Probably to bring out the thought\nthat misery made unfailing appeal to Him, and that for Him to see\nneed was to supply it. His swift compassion, His all-sufficient\npower to heal, and the conditions of receiving His healing, are all\nwrapped up in the words. Coming to the miracle itself, we may throw\nthe narrative into three parts--the preliminaries, the miracle, and\nthe abundant overplus.\n\nI. Our Lord leads up to the miracle by forcing home on the minds of\nthe disciples the extent of the need and the utter inadequacy of\ntheir resources to meet it, and by calling on them and the crowd for\nan act of obedience which must have seemed to many of them\nludicrous. John shows us that He had begun to prepare them, at the\nmoment of meeting the multitude, by His question to Philip. That had\nbeen simmering in the disciples' minds all day, while they leisurely\nwatched Him toiling in word and work, and now they come with their\nsolution of the difficulty. Their suggestion was a very sensible one\nin the circumstances, and they are not to be blamed for not\nanticipating a miracle as the way out. However many miracles they\nsaw, they never seem to have expected another. That has been thought\nto be unnatural, but surely it is true to nature. They moved in a\nconfusing mixture of the miraculous and the natural which baffled\ncalculation as to which element would rule at any given moment.\nTheir faith was feeble, and Christ rebuked them for their slowness\nto learn the lesson of this very miracle and its twin feeding of the\nfour thousand. They were our true brothers in their failure to grasp\nthe full meaning of the past, and to trust His power.\n\nThe strange suggestion that the disciples should feed the crowd must\nhave appeared to them absurd, but it was meant to bring out the\nclear recognition of the smallness of their supply. Therein lie\ngreat lessons. Commands are given and apparent duties laid on us, in\norder that we may find out how impotent we are to do them. It can\nnever be our duty to do what we cannot do, but it is often our duty\nto attempt tasks to which we are conspicuously inadequate, in the\nconfidence that He who gives them has laid them on us to drive us to\nHimself, and there to find sufficiency. The best preparation of His\nservants for their work in the world is the discovery that their own\nstores are small. Those who have learned that it is their task to\nfeed the multitude, and who have said 'We have no more than such and\nsuch scanty resources,' are prepared to be the distributors of His\nall-sufficient supply.\n\nWhat a strange scene that must have been as the hundred groups of\nfifty each arranged themselves on the green grass, in the setting\nsunlight, waiting for a meal of which there were no signs! It took a\ngood deal of faith to seat the crowd, and some faith for the crowd\nto sit. How expectant they would be! How they would wonder what was\nto be done next! How some of them would laugh, and some sneer, and\nall watch the event! We, too, have to put ourselves in the attitude\nto receive gifts of which sense sees no sign; and if, in obedience\nto Christ's word, we sit down expecting Him to find the food, we\nshall not be disappointed, though the table be spread in the\nwilderness, and neither storehouse nor kitchen be in sight.\n\nII. The miracle itself has some singular features. Like that of the\ndraught of fishes, it was not called forth by the cry of suffering,\nnor was the need which it met one beyond the reach of ordinary\nmeans. It was certainly one of the miracles most plainly meant to\nstrike the popular mind, and the enthusiasm excited by it, according\nto John's account, was foreseen by Christ. Why did He evoke\nenthusiasm which He did not mean to gratify? For the very purpose of\nbringing the carnal expectations of the crowd to a head, that they\nmight be the more conclusively disappointed. The miracle and its\nsequel sifted and sent away many 'disciples,' and were meant to do\nso.\n\nAll the accounts tell of Christ's 'blessing.' Matthew and Mark do\nnot say what He blessed, and perhaps the best supplement is 'God,'\nbut Luke says that He blessed the food. What He blesses is blessed;\nfor His words are deeds, and communicate the blessing which they\nspeak. The point at which the miraculous multiplication of the food\ncame in is left undetermined, but perhaps the difference in the\ntenses of the verbs hints at it. 'Blessed' and 'brake' are in the\ntense which describes a single act; 'gave' is in that which\ndescribes a continuous repeated action. The pieces grew under His\ntouch, and the disciples always found His hands full when they came\nback with their own empty. But wherever the miraculous element\nappeared, creative power was exercised by Jesus; and none the less\nwas it creative, because there was the 'substratum' of the loaves\nand fishes. Too much stress has been laid on their being used, and\nsome commentators have spoken as if without them the miracle could\nnot have been wrought. But surely the distinction between pure\ncreation and multiplication of a thing already existing vanishes\nwhen a loaf is 'multiplied' so as to feed a thousand men.\n\nThe symbolical aspect of the miracle is set forth in the great\ndiscourse which follows it in John's Gospel. Jesus is the 'Bread of\nGod which came down from heaven.' That Bread is broken for us. Not\nin His Incarnation alone, but in His Death, is He the food of the\nworld; and we have not only to 'eat His flesh,' but to 'drink His\nblood,' if we would live. Nor can we lose sight of the symbol of His\nservants' task. They are the distributors of the heaven-sent bread.\nIf they will but take their poor stores to Jesus, with the\nacknowledgment of their insufficiency, He will turn them into\ninexhaustible supplies, and they will find that 'there is that\nscattereth, and yet increaseth.' What Christ blesses is always\nenough.\n\nIII. The abundance left over is significant. Twelve baskets, such as\npoor travellers carried their belongings in, were filled; that is to\nsay, each Apostle who had helped to feed the hungry had a basketful\nto bring off for future wants. The 'broken pieces' were not crumbs\nthat littered the grass, but the portions that came from Christ's\nhands.\n\nHis provision is more than enough for a hungry world, and they who\nshare it out among their fellows have their own possession of it\nincreased. There is no surer way to receive the full sweetness and\nblessing of the Gospel than to carry it to some hungry soul. These\nfull baskets teach us, too, that In Christ's gift of Himself as the\nBread of Life there is ever more than at any given moment we can\nappropriate. The Christian's spiritual experiences have ever an\nelement of infinity in them; and we feel that if we were able to\ntake in more, there would be more for us to take. Other food cloys\nand does not satisfy, and leaves us starving. Christ satisfies and\ndoes not cloy, and we have always remaining, yet to be enjoyed, the\nboundless stores which neither eternity will age nor a universe\nfeeding on them consume. The Christian's capacity of partaking of\nChrist grows with what it feeds on, and he alone is safe in\nbelieving that 'To-morrow shall be as this day, and much more\nabundant.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE LORD THAT HEALETH THEE'\n\n\n    'He healed them that had need of healing.'--Luke ix. 11.\n\nJesus was seeking a little quiet and rest for Himself and His\nfollowers. For that purpose He took one of the fishermen's boats to\ncross to the other side of the sea. But the crowd, inconsiderate and\nselfish, like all crowds, saw the course of the boat, and hurried,\nas they could easily do, on foot round the head of the lake, to be\nready for Him wherever He might land. So when He touched the shore,\nthere they all were, open-mouthed and mostly moved by mere\ncuriosity, and the prospect of a brief breathing-space vanished.\n\nBut not a word of rebuke or disappointment came from His lips, and\nno shade of annoyance crossed His spirit. Perhaps with a sigh, but\nyet cheerfully, He braced Himself to work where He had hoped for\nleisure. It was a little thing, but it was the same in kind, though\ninfinitely smaller in magnitude, as that which led Him to lay aside\n'the glory that He had with the Father before the world was,' and\ncome to toil and die amongst men.\n\nBut what I especially would note are Luke's remarkable words here.\nWhy does he use that periphrasis, 'Them that had need of healing,'\ninstead of contenting himself with straightforwardly saying, 'Them\nthat were sick,' as do the other Evangelists? Well, I suppose he\nwished to hint to us the Lord's discernment of men's necessities,\nthe swift compassion which moved to supply a need as soon as it was\nobserved, and the inexhaustible power by which, whatsoever the\nvarieties of infirmity, He was able to cure and to bring strength.\n'He healed them that had need of healing,' because His love could\nnot look upon a necessity without being moved to supply it, and\nbecause that love wielded the resources of an infinite power.\n\nNow, all our Lord's miracles are parables, illustrating upon a lower\nplatform spiritual facts; and that is especially true about the\nmiracles of healing. So I wish to deal with the words before us as\nhaving a direct application to ourselves, and to draw from them two\nor three very old, threadbare, neglected lessons, which I pray God\nmay lead some of us to recognise anew our need of healing, and\nChrist's infinite power to bestow it. There are three things that I\nwant to say, and I name them here that you may know where I am\ngoing. First, we all need healing; second, Christ can heal us all;\nthird, we are not all healed.\n\nI. We all need healing.\n\nThe people in that crowd were not all diseased. Some of them He\ntaught; some of them He cured; but that crowd where healthy men\nmingled with cripples is no type of the condition of humanity.\nRather we are to find it in that Pool of Bethesda, with its five\nporches, wherein lay a multitude of impotent folk, tortured with\nvarieties of sickness, and none of them sound. Blessed be God! we\nare in _Bethesda_, which means 'house of mercy,' and the\nfountain that can heal is perpetually springing up beside us all.\nThere is a disease, dear brethren, which affects and infects all\nmankind, and it is of that that I wish to speak to you two or three\nplain, earnest words now. Sin is universal.\n\nWhat does the Bible mean by sin? Everything that goes against, or\nneglects God's law. And if you will recognise in all the acts of\nevery life the reference, which really is there, to God and His\nwill, you will not need anything more to establish the fact that\n'all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.' Whatever\nother differences there are between men, there is this fundamental\nsimilarity. Neglect--which is a breach--of the law of God pertains\nto all mankind. Everything that we do ought to have reference to\nHim. _Does_ everything that we do have such reference? If not,\nthere is a quality of evil in it. For the very definition of sin is\nliving to myself and neglecting Him. He is the centre, and if I\nmight use a violent figure, every planet that wrenches itself away\nfrom gravitation towards, and revolution round, that centre, and\nprefers to whirl on its own axis, has broken the law of the\ncelestial spheres, and brought discord into the heavenly harmony.\nAll men stand condemned in this respect.\n\nNow, there is no need to exaggerate. I am not saying that all men\nare on the same level. I know that there are great differences in\nthe nobleness, purity, and goodness of lives, and Christianity has\nnever been more unfairly represented than when good men have called,\nas they have done with St. Augustine, the virtues of godless men,\n'splendid vices.' But though the differences are not unimportant,\nthe similarity is far more important. The pure, clean-living man,\nand the loving, gentle woman, though they stand high above the\nsensuality of the profligate, the criminal, stand in this respect on\nthe same footing that they, too, have to put their hands on their\nmouths, and their mouths in the dust, and cry 'Unclean!'  I do not\nwant to exaggerate, and sure I am that if men will be honest with\nthemselves there is a voice that responds to the indictment when I\nsay sadly, in the solemn language of Scripture, 'we all have sinned\nand come short of the glory of God.' For there is no difference. If\nyou do not believe in a God, you can laugh at the old wife's notion\nof 'sin.' If you do believe in a God, you are shut up to believe\nthis other thing, 'Against Thee, Thee only, have I sinned.'\n\nAnd, brethren, if this universal fact is indeed a fact, it is the\ngravest element in human nature. It matters very little, in\ncomparison, whether you and I are wise or foolish, educated or\nilliterate, rich or poor, happy or miserable. All the superficial\ndistinctions which separate men from one another, and are all right\nin their own places, dwindle away into nothing before this solemn\ntruth that in every frame there is a plague spot, and that the\nleprosy has smitten us all.\n\nBut, brethren, do not let us lose ourselves in generalities. All\nmeans each, and each means me. We all know how hard it is to bring\ngeneral truths to bear, with all their weight, upon ourselves. That\nis an old commonplace: 'All men think all men mortal but\nthemselves'; and we are quite comfortable when this indictment is\nkept in the general terms of universality--'All have sinned.'\nSuppose I sharpen the point a little. God grant that the point may\nget to some indurated conscience here. Suppose, instead of reading\n'All have sinned,' I beseech each one of my hearers to strike out\nthe general word, and put in the individual one, and to say\n'_I_ have sinned.' You have to do with this indictment just as\nyou have to do with the promises and offers of the Gospel--wherever\nthere is a  'whosoever' put your pen through it, and write your own\nname over it. The blank cheque is given to us in regard to these\npromises and offers, and we have to fill in our own names. The\ncharge is handed to us, in regard to this indictment, and if we are\nwise we shall write our own names there, too.\n\nDear brethren, I leave this on your consciences, and I will venture to\nask that, if not here, at any rate when you get quietly home to-night,\nand lie down on your beds, you would put to yourselves the question,\n'Is it I?' And sure I am that, if you do, you will see a finger\npointing out of the darkness, and hear a voice sterner than that of\nNathan, saying 'Thou art the man.'\n\nII. Christ can heal us all.\n\nI was going to use an inappropriate word, and say, the _superb_ ease\nwith which He grappled with, and overcame, all types of disease is a\nrevelation on a lower level of the inexhaustible and all-sufficient\nfullness of His healing power. He can cope with all sin-the world's\nsin, and the individual's. And, as I believe, He alone can do it.\n\nJust look at the problem that lies before any one who attempts to\nstanch these wounds of humanity. What is needed in order to deliver\nmen from the sickness of sin? Well! that evil thing, like the fabled\ndog that sits at the gate of the infernal regions, is three-headed.\nAnd you have to do something with each of these heads if you are to\ndeliver men from that power.\n\nThere is first the awful power that evil once done has over us of\nrepeating itself on and on. There is nothing more dreadful to a\nreflective mind than the damning influence of habit. The man that\nhas done some wrong thing once is a _rara avis_ indeed. If\nonce, then twice; if twice, then onward and onward through all the\nnumbers. And the intervals between will grow less, and what were\nisolated points will coalesce into a line; and impulses wax as\nmotives wane, and the less delight a man has in his habitual form of\nevil the more is its dominion over him, and he does it at last not\nbecause the doing of it is any delight, but because the _not_\ndoing of it is a misery. If you are to get rid of sin, and to eject\nthe disease from a man, you have to deal with that awful degradation\nof character, and the tremendous chains of custom. That is one of\nthe heads of the monster.\n\nBut, as I said, sin has reference to God, and there is another of\nthe heads, for with sin comes guilt. The relation to God is\nperverted, and the man that has transgressed stands before Him as\nguilty, with all the dolefulness that that solemn word means; and\nthat is another of the heads.\n\nThe third is this--the consequences that follow in the nature of\npenalty. 'Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.' So long\nas there is a universal rule by God, in which all things are\nconcatenated by cause and effect, it is impossible but that 'Evil\nshall slay the wicked.' And that is the third head. These three,\nhabit, guilt, and penalty, have all to be dealt with if you are\ngoing to make a thorough job of the surgery.\n\nAnd here, brethren, I want not to argue but to preach. Jesus Christ\ndied on the Cross for you, and your sin was in His heart and mind\nwhen He died, and His atoning sacrifice cancels the guilt, and\nsuspends all that is dreadful in the penalty of the sin. Nothing\nelse--nothing else will do that. Who can deal with guilt but the\noffended Ruler and Judge? Who can trammel up consequences but the\nLord of the Universe? The blood of Jesus Christ is the sole and\nsufficient oblation and satisfaction for the sins of the whole\nworld.\n\nThat disposes of two of the monster's heads. What about the third?\nWho will take the venom out of my nature? What will express the\nblack drop from my heart? How shall the Ethiopian change his skin or\nthe leopard his spots? How can the man that has become habituated to\nevil 'learn to do well'? Superficially there may be much\nreformation. God forbid that I should forget that, or seem to\nminimise it. But for the thorough ejection from your nature of the\ncorruption that you have yourselves brought into it, I believe--and\nthat is why I am here, for I should have nothing to say if I did not\nbelieve it--I believe that there is only one remedy, and that is\nthat into the sinful heart there should come, rejoicing and\nflashing, and bearing on its broad bosom before it all the rubbish\nand filth of that dunghill, the great stream of the new life that is\ngiven by Jesus Christ. He was crucified for our offences, and He\nlives to bestow upon us the fullness of His own holiness. So the\nmonster's heads are smitten off. Our disease and the tendency to it,\nand the weakness consequent upon it, are all cast out from us, and\nHe reveals Himself as 'the Lord who healeth thee.'\n\nNow, dear brethren, you may say 'That is all very fine talking.'\nYes! but it is something a great deal more than fine talking. For\nnineteen centuries have established the fact that it is so; and with\nall their imperfections there have been millions, and there are\nmillions to-day, who are ready to say, 'Behold! it is not a\ndelusion; it is not rhetoric, _I_ have trusted in Him and He\nhas made _me_ whole.'\n\nNow, if these things that I have been saying do fairly represent the\ngravity of the problem which has to be dealt with in order to heal\nthe sicknesses of the world, then there is no need to dwell upon the\nthought of how absolutely confined to Jesus Christ is the power of\nthus dealing. God forbid that I should not give full weight to all\nother methods for partial reformation and bettering of humanity. I\nwould wish them all God-speed. But, brethren, there is nothing else\nthat will deal either with my sin in its relation to God, or in its\nrelation to my character, or in its relation to my future, except\nthe message of the Gospel. There are plenty of other things, very\nhelpful and good in their places, but I do want to say, in one word,\nthat there is nothing else that goes deep enough.\n\nEducation? Yes! it will do a great deal, but it will do nothing in\nregard to sin. It will alter the type of the disease, because the\ncultured man's transgressions will be very different from those of\nthe illiterate boor. But wise or foolish, professor, student,\nthinker, or savage with narrow forehead and all but dead brain, are\nalike in this, that they are sinners in God's sight. I would that I\ncould get through the fence that some of you have reared round you,\non the ground of your superior enlightenment and education and\nrefinement, and make you feel that there is something deeper than\nall that, and that you may be a very clever, and a very well\neducated, a very highly cultured, an extremely thoughtful and\nphilosophical sinner, but you are a sinner all the same.\n\nAnd again, we hear a great deal at present, and I do not desire that\nwe should hear less, about social and economic and political\nchanges, which some eager enthusiasts suppose will bring the\nmillennium. Well, if the land were nationalised, and all 'the means\nof production and distribution' were nationalised, and everybody got\nhis share, and we were all brought to the communistic condition,\nwhat then? That would not make men better, in the deepest sense of\nthe word. The fact is, these people are beginning at the wrong end.\nYou cannot better humanity merely by altering its environment for\nthe better. Christianity reverses the process. It begins with the\ninmost man, and it works outwards to the circumference, and that is\nthe thorough way. Why! suppose you took a company of people out of\nthe slums, for instance, and put them into a model lodging-house,\nhow long will it continue a model? They will take their dirty habits\nwith them, and pull down the woodwork for firing, and in a very\nshort time make the place where they are as like as possible to the\nhovel whence they came. You must change the men, and then you can\nchange their circumstances, or rather they will change them for\nthemselves. Now, all this is not to be taken as casting cold water\non any such efforts to improve matters, but only as a protest\nagainst its being supposed that these _alone_ are sufficient to\nrectify the ills and cure the sorrows of humanity. 'Ye have healed\nthe hurt of the daughter of my people slightly.' The patient is\ndying of cancer, and you are treating him for a skin disease. It is\nJesus Christ alone who can cure the sins, and therein the sorrows,\nof humanity.\n\nIII. Lastly, we are not all healed.\n\nThat is only too plain. All the sick in the crowd round Christ were\nsent away well, but the gifts He bestowed so broadcast had no\nrelation to their spiritual natures, and gifts that have relation to\nour spiritual nature cannot be thus given in entire disregard of our\nactions in the matter.\n\nChrist cannot heal you unless you take His healing power. He did on\nearth sometimes, though not often, cure physical disease without the\nrequirement of faith on the part of the healed person or his\nfriends, but He cannot (He would if He could) do so in regard to the\ndisease of sin. There, unless a man goes to Him, and trusts Him, and\nsubmits his spirit to the operation of Christ's pardoning and\nhallowing grace, there cannot be any remedy applied, nor any cure\neffected. That is no limitation of the universal power of the\nGospel. It is only saying that if you do not take the medicine you\ncannot expect that it will do you any good, and surely that is plain\ncommon-sense. There are plenty of people who fancy that Christ's\nhealing and saving power will, somehow or other, reach every man,\napart from the man's act. It is all a delusion, brethren. If it\ncould it would. But if salvation could be thus given, independent of\nthe man, it would come down to a mere mechanical thing, and would\nnot be worth the having. So I say, first, if you will not take the\nmedicine you cannot get the cure.\n\nI say, second, if you do not feel that you are ill you will not take\nthe medicine. A man crippled with lameness, or tortured with fever,\nor groping in the daylight and blind, or deaf to all the sounds of\nthis sweet world, could not but know that he was a subject for the\nhealing. But the awful thing about our disease is that the worse you\nare the less you know it; and that when conscience ought to be\nspeaking loudest it is quieted altogether, and leaves a man often\nperfectly at peace, so that after he has done evil things he wipes\nhis mouth and says, 'I have done no harm.'\n\nSo, dear brethren, let me plead with you not to put away these poor\nwords that I have been saying to you, and not to be contented until\nyou have recognised what is true, that you--_you_, stand a\nsinful man before God.\n\nThere is surely no madness comparable to the madness of the man that\nprefers to keep his sin and die, rather than go to Christ and live.\nWe all neglect to take up many good things that we might have if we\nwould, but no other neglect is a thousandth part so insane as that\nof the man who clings to his evil and spurns the Lord. Will you look\ninto your own hearts? Will you recognise that awful solemn law of\nGod which ought to regulate all our doings, and, alas! has been so\noften neglected, and so often transgressed by each of us? Oh! if\nonce you saw yourselves as you are, you would turn to Him and say,\n'Heal me'; and you would be healed, and He would lay His hand upon\nyou. If only you will go, sick and broken, to Him, and trust in His\ngreat sacrifice, and open your hearts to the influx of His healing\npower, He will give you 'perfect soundness'; and your song will be,\n'Bless the Lord, O my soul.... Who forgiveth all thine iniquities;\nwho healeth thy diseases.'\n\nMay it be so with each of us!\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S CROSS AND OURS\n\n\n    'And it came to pass, as He was alone praying, His\n    disciples were with Him; and He asked them, saying,\n    Whom say the people that I am I 19. They answering,\n    said, John the Baptist; but some say, Elias; and\n    others say, that one of the old prophets is risen\n    again. 20. He said unto them, But whom say ye that I\n    am? Peter answering, said, The Christ of God. 21. And\n    He straitly charged them, and commanded them to tell\n    no man that thing; 22. Saying, The Son of man must\n    suffer many things, and be rejected of the elders,\n    and chief priests, and scribes, and be slain, and be\n    raised the third day. 23. And He said to them all, If\n    any man will come after Me. let him deny himself, and\n    take up his cross daily, and follow Me. 24. For\n    whosoever will save his life shall lose it; but\n    whosoever will  lose his life for My sake, the same\n    shall save it. 25. For what is a man advantaged, if he\n    gain the whole world, and lose himself, or be cast\n    away? 26. For whosoever shall be ashamed of Me, and of\n    My words, of him shall the Son of man be ashamed, when\n    He shall come in His own glory, and in His Father's,\n    and of the holy angels. 27. But I tell you of a truth,\n    there be some standing here, which shall not taste of\n    death, till they see the kingdom of God.'--Luke ix. 18-27.\n\nThis passage falls into three distinct but closely connected parts:\nthe disciples' confession of Christ by Peters mouth, the revelation\nto them of Christ's sufferings as necessarily involved in His\nMessiahship, and His extension to them of the law of suffering as\nnecessarily involved in discipleship. Luke dwells much more lightly\nthan Matthew on the first of these stages, omitting the eulogium and\nbenediction on Simon Bar-Jona, and the great words about the rock on\nwhich the Church is built, but he retains the essentials, and\nemphasises the connection of the three parts by his very brevity in\nregard to the first.\n\nI. Luke has special interest in recording Christ's prayers, and\nthough he does not tell us where the great confession was made, he\ntells what Jesus did before it was made. We may well suppose that\nHis solitary thoughts had been busied with the sufferings on which\nHe was soon to enter, and that His resolve to impart the knowledge\nof these to His followers was felt by Him to be a sharp trial of\ntheir loyalty. The moment was a fateful one. How should fateful\nmoments be prepared for but by communion with the Father? No doubt\nthe feebleness of the disciples was remembered in His petitions.\n\nJesus' double question was intended, first, to make the disciples\nfeel the gulf which separated them from the rest of the nation, and\nso to make them hold the faster by their unshared faith, and be\nready to suffer for it, if needful, as probably it would be. It\nbraces true men to know that they are but a little company in the\nmidst of multitudes who laugh at their belief. That Jesus should\nhave seen that it was safe to accentuate the disciples' isolation\nindicates the reality which He discerned in their faith, imperfect\nas it was.\n\n'Whom say ye that I am?' Jesus brings them to articulate utterance\nof the thought that had been slowly gathering distinctness in their\nminds. We see our beliefs more clearly, and hold them more firmly,\nwhen we put them into definite words. The question acted like a\nchemical element dropped into a solution, which precipitates its\nsolid matter. Nebulous opinions are gathered up into spheres of\nlight by the process of speaking them. That question is all-important\nfor us. Our conceptions of Christ's nature and office determine our\nrelation to Him and our whole cast of life. True, we may say that He\nis Lord, and not be His disciples, but we are not His disciples as He\nwould have us unless His Messiahship stands out clear and axiomatic\nin our thoughts of Him. The conviction must pass into feeling, and\nthence into life, but it must underlie all real discipleship.\nDoctrine is not Christianity, but it is the foundation of\nChristianity. The Apostolic confession here is the 'irreducible\nminimum' of the Christian creed.\n\nIt does not contain more than Nathanael had said at the beginning,\nbut here it is spoken, not as Peter's private belief, but he is the\nmouthpiece of all. 'Whether it were I or they, so we' believe. This\nconfession summed up the previous development of the disciples, and\nso marked the end of one stage and the beginning of another. Christ\nwould have them, as it were, take stock of their convictions, as\npreliminary to opening a new chapter of teaching.\n\nII. That new chapter follows at once. The belief in Him as Messiah\nis the first story of the building, and the second is next piled on\nit. The new lesson was a hard one for men whose hopes were coloured\nby Jewish dreams of a kingdom. They had to see all these vulgar\nvisions melting away, and to face a stern, sad reality. The very\nfact that He was the Messiah necessarily drew after it the fact of\nsuffering. Whence did the 'must' arise? From the divine purpose,\nfrom the necessities of the case, and the aim of His mission. These\nhad shaped prophetic utterances, and hence there was yet another\nform of the 'must,' namely, the necessity for the Messiah's\nfulfilling these predictions.\n\nNo doubt our Lord led His saddened listeners to many a prophetic\nsaying which current expositions had smoothed over, but which had\nfor many years set before Him His destiny. What a scene that would\nbe--the victim calmly pointing to the tragic words which flashed\nominous new meanings to the silent hearers, stricken with awe and\ngrief as the terrible truth entered their minds! What had become of\ntheir dreams? Gone, and in their place shame and death. They had\nfancied a throne; the vision melted into a cross.\n\nWe note the minute particularity of Jesus' delineation, and the\nabsolute certainty in His plain declaration of the fact and time of\nthe Resurrection. It is not wonderful that that declaration should\nhave produced little effect. The disciples were too much absorbed\nand confounded by the dismal thought of His death to have ears for\nthe assurance of His Resurrection. Comfort coming at the end of the\nannouncement of calamities so great finds no entrance into, nor room\nin, the heart. We all let a black foreground hide from us a brighter\ndistance.\n\nIII. The Master's feet mark the disciples' path. If suffering was\ninvolved in Messiahship, it is no less involved in discipleship. The\ncross which is our hope is also our pattern. In a very real sense we\nhave to be partakers of the sufferings of Christ, and no faith in\nthese as substitutionary is vital unless it leads to being conformed\nto His death. The solemn verses at the close of this lesson draw out\nthe law of Christian self-denial as being inseparable from true\ndiscipleship.\n\nVerse 23 lays down the condition of following Jesus as being the\ndaily bearing, by each, of his own cross. Mark that self-denial is\nnot prescribed for its own sake, but simply as the means of\n'following.' False asceticism insists on it, as if it were an end;\nChrist treats it as a means. Mark, too, that it is 'self' which is\nto be denied--not this or that part of our nature, but the central\n'self.' The will is the man, and _it_ is to be brought into\ncaptivity to Jesus, so that the true Christian says, 'I live; yet\nnot I, but Christ liveth in me.' That is much deeper, harder,\nwholesomer teaching than separate austerities or forsakings of this\nor that.\n\nVerse 24 grounds this great requirement on the broad principle that\nto make self the main object of life is the sure way to ruin\noneself, and that to slay self is the road to true life. Note that\nit is he who '_would_ save' his life that loses it, because the\ndesire is itself fatal, whether carried out or not; while it is he\nwho _does_ 'lose' his life for Christ that preserves it,\nbecause even if the extreme evil has been suffered, the possession\nof our true lives is not imperilled thereby. No doubt the words\nrefer primarily to literal death, and threaten the cowards who\nsacrifice their convictions for the sake of keeping a whole skin\nwith the failure of their efforts, while they promise the martyr\ndying in the arena or at the stake a crown of life. But they go far\nbeyond that. They carry the great truth that to hug self and to make\nits preservation our first aim is ruinous, and the corresponding\none, that to slay self for Christ's sake is to receive a better\nself. Self-preservation is suicide; self-immolation is not only\nself-preservation, but self-glorification with glory caught from\nJesus. Give yourselves to Him, and He gives you back to yourselves,\nennobled and transfigured.\n\nVerse 25 urges obedience to the precept, by an appeal to reasonable\nself-regard and common-sense. The abnegation enjoined does not\nrequire that we should be indifferent to our own well-being. It is\nright to consider what will 'profit,' and to act accordingly. The\ncommercial view of life, if rightly taken, with regard to all a\nman's nature through all the duration of it, will coincide\naccurately with the most exalted. It 'pays' to follow Christ.\nChristian morality has not the hypersensitive fear of appealing to\nself-interest which superfine moralists profess nowadays. And the\nquestion in verse 25 admits of only one answer, for what good is the\nwhole world to a dead man? If our accounts are rightly kept, a world\ngained shows poorly on the one side, against the entry on the other\nof a soul lost.\n\nVerse 26 tells in what that losing oneself consists, and enforces\nthe original exhortation by the declaration of a future appearance\nof the Son of man. He of whom Christ is then ashamed loses his own\nsoul. To live without His smile is to die, to be disowned by Him is\nto be a wreck. To be ashamed of Jesus is equivalent to that base\nself-preservation which has been denounced as fatal. If a man\ndisavows all connection with Him, He will disavow all connection\nwith the disavower. A man separated from Jesus is dead while he\nlives, and hereafter will live a living death, and possess neither\nthe world for which he sacrificed his own soul nor the soul for\nwhich he sacrificed it.\n\nWe cannot but note the authoritative tone of our Lord in these\nverses. He claims the obedience and discipleship of all men. He\ndemands that all shall yield themselves unreservedly to Him, and\nthat, even if actual surrender of life is involved, it shall be\ngladly given. He puts our relation to Him as determining our whole\npresent and future. He assumes to be our Judge, whose smile is life,\nwhose averted face darkens the destiny of a man. Whom say ye that He\nwho dared to speak thus conceived Himself to be? Whom say ye that He\nis?\n\nVerse 27 recalls us from the contemplation of that far-off\nappearance to something nearer. Remembering the previous\nannouncement of our Lord's sufferings, these words seem intended to\ncheer the disciples with the hope that the kingdom would still be\nrevealed within the lifetime of some then present. Remembering the\nimmediately preceding words, this saying seems to assure the\ndisciples that the blessed recompense of the life of self-crucifying\ndiscipleship is not to be postponed to that future, but may be\nenjoyed on earth. Remembering Christ's word, 'Except a man be born\nagain, he cannot see the kingdom of God,' we doubt whether there is\nany reference here to the destruction of Jerusalem, as is commonly\nunderstood. Are not the words rather a declaration that they who are\nChrist's true disciples shall even here enter into the possession of\ntheir true selves, and find the Messianic hopes more than fulfilled?\nThe future indicated will then be no more remote than the completion\nof His work by His death and Resurrection, or, at the farthest, the\ndescent of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, by which the fuller life of\nrenewed natures was bestowed on those who were following Jesus in\ndaily self-surrender.\n\n\n\n\nPRAYER AND TRANSFIGURATION\n\n\n    'And as He prayed, the fashion of His countenance was\n    altered.'--LUKE ix. 29.\n\nThis Evangelist is especially careful to record the instances of our\nLord's prayers. That is in accordance with the emphasis which he\nplaces on Christ's manhood. In this narrative of the Transfiguration\nit is to Luke that we owe our knowledge of the connection between\nour Lord's prayer and the radiance of His face. It may be a question\nhow far such transfiguration was the constant accompaniment of our\nLord's devotion. It is to be remembered that this is the only time\nat which others were present while He prayed, and perhaps it may be\nthat whensoever, on the mountain top or in the solitude of the\nwilderness, He entered into closer communion with His heavenly\nFather, that radiance shone from His face, though no eye beheld and\nno tongue has recorded the glory.\n\nBut that is a mere supposition. However that may be, it would seem\nthat the light on Christ's face was not merely a reflection caught\nfrom above, but it was also a rising up from within of what always\nabode there, though it did not always shine through the veil of\nflesh. And in so far it presents no parallel with anything in our\nexperience, nor any lesson for us. But to regard our Lord's\nTransfiguration as only the result of the indwelling divinity\nmanifested is to construe only one half of the fact that we have to\ndeal with, and the other half does afford for us a precious lesson.\n'As He prayed the fashion of His countenance was altered'; and as we\npray, and in the measure in which we truly and habitually do hold\ncommunion, shall we, too, partake of His Transfiguration.\n\nThe old story of the light that flashed upon the face of the\nLawgiver, caught by reflection from the light of God in which He\nwalked, is a partial parallel to Christ's Transfiguration, and both\nthe one and the other incident, amongst their other lessons, do also\npoint to some mysterious and occult relation between the indwelling\nsoul and the envious veil of flesh which, under certain\ncircumstances, might become radiant with the manifestation of that\nindwelling power.\n\nI. The one great lesson which I seek now to enforce from this\nincident is, that communion with God transfigures.\n\nPrayer is more than petitions. It is not necessarily cast into words\nat all. In its widest, which is its truest sense, it is the attitude\nand exercise of devout contemplation of God and intercourse in\nheart, mind, and will with Him, a communion which unites aspiration\nand attainment, longing and fruition, asking and receiving, seeking\nand finding, a communion which often finds itself beggared for\nwords, and sometimes even seems to transcend thought. How different\nis such an hour of rapt communion with the living God from the\nmiserable notions which so many professing Christians have of\nprayer, as if it were but spoken requests, more or less fervent and\nsincere, for things that they want! The noblest communion of a soul\nwith God can never be free from the consciousness of need and\ndependence. Petition must ever be an element in it, but supplication\nis only a corner of prayer. Such conscious converse with God is the\nvery atmosphere in which the Christian soul should always live, and\nif it be an experience altogether strange to us we had better ask\nourselves whether we yet know the realities of the Christian life,\nor have any claim to the name. 'Truly, our fellowship is with the\nFather and with His Son, Jesus Christ,' and if we have no share in\nthat fellowship we do not belong to the class of whom it is the mark\nand possession.\n\nOf course, such communion is not to be attained or maintained without\neffort. Sense wars against it. Tasks which are duties interrupt the\nenjoyment of it in its more conscious forms. The hard-working man\nmay well say, 'How can I, with my business cares calling--for my\nundivided attention all day long, keep up such communion?' The\ntoiling mother may well say, 'How can I, in my little house, with my\nchildren round me, and never a quiet minute to myself, get such?'\nTrue, it is hard, and the highest and sweetest forms of communion\ncannot be reached by us while so engaged, and therefore we all need\nseasons of solitude and repose, in which, being left alone, we may\nsee the Great Vision, and, the clank of the engines being silenced,\nwe may hear the Great Voice saying, 'Come up hither.' Such seasons\nthe busiest have on one day in every week, and such seasons we shall\ncontrive to secure for ourselves daily, if we really want to be\nintimate with our heavenly Friend.\n\nAnd for the rest it is not impossible to have real communion with\nGod in the midst of anxious cares and absorbing duties; it is\npossible to be like the nightingales, that sing loudest in the trees\nby the dusty roadsides, possible to be in the very midst of anxiety\nand worldly work, and yet to keep our hearts in heaven and in touch\nwith God. We do not need many words for communion, but we do need to\nmake efforts to keep ourselves near Him in desire and aspiration,\nand we need jealous and constant watchfulness over our motives for\nwork, and our temper and aim in it, that neither the work nor our\nway of doing it may draw us away. There will be breaches in the\ncontinuity of our conscious communion, but there need not be any in\nthe reality of our touch with God. For He can be with us, 'like some\nsweet, beguiling melody, so sweet we know not we are listening to\nit.' There may be a real contact of the spirit with Him, though it\nwould be hard at the moment to put it into words.\n\n'As He prayed, the fashion of His countenance was altered.' Such\ncommunion changes and glorifies a man. The very secret of the Gospel\nway of making men better is--transfiguration by the vision of God.\nYes! to be much with God is the true way to mend our characters, and\nto make them like His. I do not under-value the need of effort in\norder to correct faults and acquire virtues. We do not receive\nsanctification as we receive justification, by simple faith. For the\nlatter the condition is 'Only believe,' for the former it is 'Work\nout your own salvation.' No man is cured of his evil tendencies\nwithout a great deal of hard work conscientiously directed to\ncurbing them.\n\nBut all the hard work, and all the honest purpose in the world, will\nnot do it without this other thing, the close communion with God,\nand incomparably the surest way to change what in us is wrong, and\nto raise what in us is low, and to illumine what in us is dark, is\nto live in habitual beholding of Him who is righteousness without\nflaw, and holiness supreme, and light without any darkness at all.\nThat will cure faults. That will pull the poison fangs out of\npassions. That will do for the evil in us what the snake-charmers do\nby subtle touches, turn the serpent into a rigid rod that does not\nmove nor sting. That will lift us up high above the trifles of life,\nand dwarf all here that imposes upon us with the lie that it is\ngreat, and precious, and permanent; and that will bring us into\nloving contact with the living 'Beauty of holiness,' which will\nchange us into its own fair likeness.\n\nWe see illustrations of this transforming power of loving communion\nin daily life. People that love each other, and live beside each\nother, and are often thinking about one another, get to drop into\neach other's ways of looking at things; and even sometimes you will\ncatch strange imitations and echoes of the face and voice, in two\npersons thus knit together. And if you and I are bound to God by a\nlove which lasts, even when it does not speak, and which is with us\neven when our hands are busy with other things, then be sure of\nthis, we shall get like Him whom we love. We shall be like Him even\nhere, for even here we shall see Him. Partial assimilation is the\ncondition of vision; and the vision is the condition of growing\nassimilation. The eye would not see the sun unless there were a\nlittle sun imaged on the retina. And a man that sees God gets like\nthe God he sees; 'for we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a\nglass (or, rather, mirroring as a glass does) the glory of God, are\nchanged into the same image.' The image on the mirror is only on the\nsurface; but if my heart is mirroring God He sinks in, and abides\nthere, and changes me from glory to glory. So it is when we keep\nnear Christ, who is manifest in the flesh, that we get liker Him day\nby day, and the fashion of our countenances will be altered.\n\nNow there is a test for our Christianity. Does my religion alter me?\nIf it does not, what right or reason have I to believe that it is\ngenuine at all? Is there a process of purifying going on in my\ninward nature? Am I getting any more like Jesus Christ than I was\nten years ago? I say I live with Him and by Him. If I do I shall\nbecome like Him. Do not work at the hopeless task of purifying\nyourselves without His help, but go and stay in the sun if you want\nto get warm. Lo as the bleachers do, spread the foul cloth on the\ngreen grass, below the blazing sunshine, and that will take all the\ndirt out. Believing and loving, and holding fast by Jesus Christ in\ntrue communion, we, too, become like Him we love.\n\nII. Another thought is suggested by these words--namely, that this\ntransfiguring will become very visible in the life if it be really\nin our inmost selves.\n\nEven in the most literal sense of the words it will be so. Did you\nnever see anybody whose face was changed by holier and nobler\npurposes coming into their lives? I have seen more than one or two\nwhose features became as the face of an angel as they grew more and\nmore unselfish, and more and more full of that which, in the  most\nliteral sense of the words, was in them the beauty of holiness. The\ndevil writes his mark upon people's faces. The world and the flesh\ndo so. Go into the streets and look at the people that you meet.\nCare, envy, grasping griping avarice, discontent, unrest, blotches\nof animalism, and many other prints of black fingers are plain\nenough on many a face. And on the other hand, if a man or a woman\nget into their hearts the refining influences of God's grace and\nlove by living near the Master, very soon the beauty of expression\nwhich is born of consecration and unselfishness, the irradiation of\nlofty emotions, the tenderness caught from Him, will not be lacking,\nand some eyes that look upon them will recognise the family\nlikeness.\n\nBut that may be said to be mere fancy. Perhaps it is, or perhaps\nthere is truth in it deeper and more far-reaching than we know.\nPerhaps the life fashions the body, and the 'body of our glory' may\nbe moulded in immortal loveliness by the perfect Christ-derived life\nwithin it. But be that as it may, the main point to be observed here\nis rather this. If we have the real, transforming influence of\ncommunion with Jesus Christ in our hearts, it will certainly rise to\nthe surface, and show itself in our lives. As oil poured into water\nwill come to the top, so that inward transforming will not continue\nhidden within, 'The king's daughter is all-glorious _within_,\nbut also 'her _clothing_ is of wrought gold.' The inward life,\nbeautiful because knit to Him, will have corresponding with it and\nflowing from it an outward life of manifest holy beauty.\n\n'His name shall be in their foreheads,' stamped there, where\neverybody can see it. Is that where you and I carry Christ's name?\nIt is well that it should be in our hearts, it is hypocrisy that it\nshould be in our foreheads unless it is in our hearts first. But if\nit be in the latter it will surely be in the former.\n\nNow, dear friends, there is a simple and sure touchstone for us all.\nDo not talk about communion with Christ being the life of your\nreligion, unless the people that have to do with you, your brothers\nand sisters, or fathers and mothers, your wives and children, your\nservants or your masters, would endorse it and say 'Yes! I take\nknowledge of him, he has been with Jesus.' Do you think that it is\neasier for anybody to believe in, and to love God, 'whom he hath not\nseen' because of you, 'his brother whom he hath seen'? The Christ in\nthe heart will be the Christ in the face and in the life.\n\nAlas! why is it that so little of this radiance caught from heaven\nshines from us? There is but one answer. It is because our communion\nwith God in Christ is so infrequent, hurried, and superficial. We\nshould be like those luminous boxes which we sometimes see, shining\nin the dark with light absorbed from the day; but, like them, we\nneed to be exposed to the light and to lie in it if we are to be\nlight. 'Now are ye light in the Lord,' and only as we abide in Him\nby continuous communion shall we resemble Him or reflect Him.\n\nIII. The perfection of communion will be the perfection of visible\ntransformation.\n\nPossibly the Transfiguration of Jesus Christ had an element of\nprophecy in it, and pointed onwards to the order of things when His\nglorified humanity should be enthroned on the throne of the\nuniverse, and have left the limitations of flesh with the folded\ngrave-clothes in the empty sepulchre. As the two majestic forms of\nthe Lawgiver and the Prophet shared His glory on Hermon, and held\nconverse with Him there, so we may see in that mysterious group\nwrapped in the bright cloud the hint of a hope which was destined to\ngrow to clearness and certainty. Christ's glorified bodily humanity\nis the type to which all His followers will be conformed. Gazing on\nHim they shall be like Him, and will grow liker as they gaze.\nThrough eternal ages the double process will go on, and they shall\nbecome ever more assimilated, and therefore capable of truer,\ncompleter vision, and ever seeing Him more fully as He is, and\ntherefore progressively changed into more perfect resemblance. Nor\nwill that blessed change into advancing glory be shut up in their\nhearts nor lack beholders. For in that realm of truth and reality\nall that is within will be visible, our life will no longer fall\nbeneath our aspirations, nor practice be at variance with the\nlongings and convictions of our best selves. Then the Christlike\nspirit will possess a body which is its glad and perfect servant,\nand through which its beauty will shine undimmed. 'When Christ, who\nis our life, shall be manifested, then shall we also be manifested\nwith Him in glory.'\n\n\n\n\n'IN THE HOLY MOUNT'\n\n\n    'And, behold, there talked with Him two men, which\n    were Moses and Elias: 31. Who appeared in glory, and\n    spake of His decease which He should accomplish at\n    Jerusalem.'--LUKE ix. 30, 31.\n\nThe mysterious incident which is commonly called the Transfiguration\ncontained three distinct portions, each having its own special\nsignificance and lesson. The first was that supernatural change in\nthe face and garments of our Lord from which the whole incident\nderives its name. The second was the appearance by His side of these\ntwo mighty dead participating in the strange lustre in which He\nwalked, and communing with Him of His death. And the last was the\ndescent of the bright cloud, visible as bright even amidst the\nblazing sunshine on the lone hillside, and the mysterious attesting\nVoice that spoke from out of its depths.\n\nI leave untouched altogether the first and the last of these three\nportions, and desire briefly to fix our attention on this central\none. Now it is to be observed that whilst all the three Synoptic\nEvangelists tell us of the Transfiguration, of the appearance of\nMoses and Elias, and of the Cloud and the Voice, only Luke  knows,\nor at least records, and therefore alone probably knows, what it was\nthat they spoke of. Peter and James and John, the only human\nwitnesses, were lying dazed and drunken with sleep, whilst Christ's\ncountenance was changed; and during all the earlier portion at all\nevents of His converse with Moses and Elias. And it was only when\nthese were about to depart that the mortals awoke from their\nslumber. So they probably neither heard the voices nor knew their\ntheme, and it was reserved for this Evangelist to tell us the\nprecious truth that the thing about which Lawgiver, Prophet, and the\nGreater than both spake in that mysterious communion was none other\nthan the Cross.\n\nI think, then, that if we look at this incident from the point of\nview which our Evangelist enables us to take, we shall get large and\nimportant lessons as to the significance of the death of Jesus\nChrist, in many aspects, and in reference to very many different\npersons. I see at least four of these. This incident teaches us what\nChrist's death was to Himself; what it was in reference to previous\nrevelation; what it was in reference to past generations; and what\nit may be in reference to His servants' death. And upon these four\npoints I desire briefly to touch now.\n\nI. First, then, I see here teaching as to what the death of the Lord\nJesus Christ was in reference to Himself.\n\nWhat was it that brought these men--the one who had passed in a\nwhirlwind to heaven, and the other who had been led by a mysterious\ndeath to slumber in an unknown grave--what was it that brought these\nmen to stand there upon the side of the slopes of Hermon? It was not\nto teach Christ of the impending Cross. For, not to touch upon other\npoints, eight days before this mysterious interview He had foretold\nit in the minutest details to His disciples. It was not for the sake\nof Peter and James and John, lying coiled in slumber there, that\nthey broke the bands of death, and came back from 'that bourne from\nwhich no traveller returns,' but it was for Christ, or for\nthemselves, or perhaps for both, that they stood there.\n\nYou remember that in Gethsemane 'there appeared an angel from heaven\nstrengthening Him.' And one of the old devout painters has\nmarvellously embraced the deepest meaning of that vision when he has\npainted for us the strengthening angel displaying in the heavens the\nCross on which He must die, as if the holding of it up before Him as\nthe divine will gave the strength that He needed. And I think in\nsome analogous way we are to regard the mission and message to Jesus\nof these two men in our text. We know that clear before Him, all His\nlife long, there stood the certainty of the Cross. We know that He\ncame, not merely to teach, to minister, to bless, to guide, but that\nHe came to give His life a ransom for many. But we know, too, that\nfrom about this point of time in His life the Cross stood more\ndistinctly, if that may be, before Him; or at all events, that it\npressed more upon His vision and upon His spirit. And doubtless\nafter that time when He spoke to the disciples so plainly and\nclearly of what was coming upon Him, His human nature needed the\nretirement of the mountain-side and prayer which preceded and\noccasioned this mysterious incident. Christ shrank from His Cross\nwith sinless, natural, human shrinking of the flesh. That never\naltered His purpose nor shook His will, but He needed, and He got,\nstrength from the Father, ministered once by an angel from heaven,\nand ministered, as I suppose, another time by two men who looked at\ndeath from the other side, and 'who spoke to Him of His decease\nwhich He should accomplish at Jerusalem.'\n\nAnd now it is to be noticed that the words which our Evangelist\nemploys are remarkable, and one of them, at least, is all but\nunique. The expression translated in my text 'decease' is the same\nGreek word which, untranslated, names the second book of the Old\nTestament--_Exodus_. And it literally means neither more nor\nless than a departure or 'going out.' It is only employed in this\none passage and in another one to which I shall have occasion to\nrefer presently, which is evidently based and moulded upon this one,\nto signify _death_. And the employment of it, perhaps upon\nthese undying tongues of the sainted dead--or, at all events, in\nreference to the subject of their colloquy--seems to us to suggest\nthat part of what they had to say to the Master and what they had to\nhear from Him was that His death was His departure in an altogether\nunique, solitary, and blessed sense. 'I came forth from the Father,\nand I am come into the world. Again, I leave the world and go to the\nFather.' Not dragged by any necessity, but of His own sovereign\nwill, He passes from earth to the state where He was before. And as\nHe stands there on the mountain with His radiant face and His white\nrobes, this thought as to His death brings to Him comfort and\nstrength, even whilst He thinks of the suffering of the Cross.\n\nBut, still further, the other word which is here employed helps us\nto understand what our Lord's death was to Him; 'He should\n_accomplish_' it as a thing to be fulfilled. And that involves\ntwo ideas, the one that Christ in His death was consciously\nsubmitting to a gladly accepted divine _must_, and was accomplishing\nthe purpose of Love which dwelt in the heavens and sent Him, as well\nas His own purpose of love which would redeem and save. The necessity\nof the death of Christ if sin is to be put away, if we are ever to have\na hope of immortality, the necessity of the death of Christ if the\nmercy of God is to pour out upon a sinful and rebellious world, the\nnecessity of the death of Christ, if the deep purposes of the divine\nheart are ever to be realised, and the yearning compassion of the\nSaviour's soul is ever to reach its purpose--all lie in that great\nword that 'His decease' was by Him to be 'accomplished.' This is the\nfulfilling of the heart of God, this is the fulfilling of the\ncompassion of the Christ. It is the accomplishment of the divine\npurpose from eternity.\n\nStill further, the word, as I think, suggests another kind of\nfulfilment. He was to 'accomplish' His death. That is to say, every\ndrop of that bitter cup, drop by drop, bitterness by bitterness,\npang by pang, desolation by desolation, He was to drink; and He\ndrank it. Every step of that road sown with ploughshares and live\ncoals He was to tread, with bleeding, blistered, slow, unshrinking\nfeet. And He trod it. He _accomplished_ it; hurrying over none\nof the sorrow, perfunctorily doing none of the tasks. And after the\nweary moments had ticked themselves away, and the six hours of\nagony, when the minutes were as drops of blood falling slowly to the\nground, were passed, He inverted the cup, and it was empty, and He\nsaid 'It is finished'; and He gave up the ghost, having\naccomplished His decease in Jerusalem.'\n\nII. Further, note in this incident what that death is in regard to\nprevious revelation.\n\nI need not remind you, I suppose, that we have here the two great\nrepresentative figures of the past history of Israel--the Lawgiver,\nwho, according to the Old Testament, was not only the medium of\ndeclaring the divine will, but the medium of establishing Sacrifice\nas well as Law, and the Prophet, who, though no written words of his\nhave been preserved, and nothing of a predictive and Messianic\ncharacter seems to have dropped from His lips, yet stood as the\nrepresentative and head of the great prophetic order to which so\nmuch of the earlier revelation was entrusted. And now here they two\nstand with Christ on the mountain; and the theme about which they\nspake with Him there is the theme of which the former revelation had\nspoken in type and shadow, in stammering words, 'at sundry times and\nin divers manners,' to the former generations--viz. the coming of\nthe great Sacrifice and the offering of the great Propitiation. All\nthe past of Israel pointed onwards to the Cross, and in that Cross\nits highest word was transcended, its faintest emblems were\nexplained and expressed, its unsolved problems which it had raised\nin order that they might be felt to be unsolved, were all answered,\nand that which had been set forth but in shadow and symbol was given\nto the world in reality for evermore. In Moses Law and Sacrifice,\nand in Elijah the prophetic function, met by the side of Christ,\n'and spake of His decease.'\n\nNow, dear friends, let me say one word here before I pass on. There\nis a great deal being said nowadays about the position of the Old\nTestament, the origin of its ritual, and other critical, and, to some\nextent, historical, questions. I have no doubt that we have much to\nlearn upon these subjects; but what I would now insist upon is this,\nthat all these subjects, about which people are getting so excited,\nand some of them so angry, stand, and may be dealt with, altogether\napart from this central thought, that the purpose and meaning, the\nend and object of the whole preliminary and progressive revelation of\nGod from the beginning, are to lead straight up to Jesus Christ and\nto His Cross. And if we understand that, and feel that 'the testimony\nof Jesus is the spirit of prophecy,' and that law and sacrifice,\ncommandments and altar, Sinai and Zion, the fiery words that were\nspoken in the wilderness, and the perpetual burnt-offering that went\nup in the Temple, had one mission--viz. to 'prepare the way of the\nLord'--we have grasped the essential truth as to the Old Revelation;\nand if we do not understand that, we may be as scholarly and erudite\nand original as we please, but we miss the one truth which is worth\ngrasping. The relation between the Old revelation and the New is this,\nthat Christ was pointed to by it all, and that in Himself He sums up\nand surpasses and antiquates, because He fulfils, all the past.\n\nTherefore Moses and Elijah came to witness as well as to encourage.\nTheir presence proclaimed that Christ was the meaning of all the\npast, and the crown of the divine revelation. And they faded away,\nand Jesus was found alone standing there, as He stands for ever\nbefore all generations and all lands, the sole, the perfect, the\neternal Revealer of the heart and will of God. 'God, who at sundry\ntimes and in divers manners spake unto the fathers by the prophets,\nhath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son.'\n\nIII. Again, we have here set before us the death of Christ in its\nrelation to past generations.\n\nI need not dwell upon anything that was mysterious or anomalous in\nthe last moments upon earth of either Moses or Elijah. I do not\nsuppose that there is any reference to the undoubted peculiarities\nwhich existed in the case of both. But they came from that dim\nregion where the dead were waiting for the coming of the Saviour,\nand by some means, we know not how, were clothed with something that\nwas like an immortal body, and capable of entering into this\nmaterial universe. There they stood, witnesses that Christ's death\nwas of interest to all those sleeping generations in the past. We\nknow not anything, or scarcely anything, of the condition of the\nsainted dead who died before Christ came. But this is clear, that\nthese two came from the land where silent expectancy had ruled, and\ncame perhaps to carry back to their brethren the tidings that the\nhour was ready to strike, and that soon amongst them there would\nstand the Eternal Life.\n\nBut, be that as it may, does not that group on the mountain-side\nteach us this, that the Cross of Jesus Christ had a backward as well\nas a forward power, and that for all the generations who had died,\n'not having received the promises, but having seen them and saluted\nthem from afar,' the influence of that Sacrifice had opened the\ngates of the Kingdom where they were gathered in hope, even as it\nopens for us, and all subsequent generations, the gates of the\nparadise of God?\n\nI know not whether there be truth in the ancient idea that when the\nMaster died He passed into that _Hades_ where were assembled\nthe disembodied spirits of the righteous dead, and led captivity\ncaptive, taking them with Him into a loftier Paradise. But this I am\nsure of, that Christ's Cross has always been the means and channel\nwhereby forgiveness and hope and heaven have been given to men, and\nthat the old dream of the devout painter which he has breathed upon\nthe walls of the convent in Florence is true in spirit whatever it\nmay be in letter, that the Christ who died went down into the dark\nregions, burst the bars and broke the gates of iron, and crushed the\ndemon porter beneath the shattered portal, and that out of the dark\nrock-hewn caverns there came streaming the crowds of the sainted\ndead, with Adam at their head, and many another who had seen His day\nafar off and been glad, stretching out eager hands to grasp the\nlife-giving hand of the Redeemer that had come to them too.\n\nMoses and Elias were the 'first-fruits of them that slept,' and\nthere were others, when the bodies of the saints rose from the grave\nand appeared in the Holy City unto many. And their presence, and the\npresence of these two there, typified for us the great fact that the\nCross of Christ is the redemption of pre-Christian as well as of\nChristian ages; and that He is the Lord both of the dead and of the\nliving.\n\nIV. And so, lastly, this incident may suggest also what that death\nof Jesus Christ may be in reference to the deaths of His servants.\n\nI do not find that thought in the words of our text, but in the\nreference to them which is made in the second epistle attributed to\nPeter, who was present at the Transfiguration. There is a very\nremarkable passage in that Epistle, in the context of which there\nare distinct verbal allusions to the narrative of the Transfiguration,\nand in it the writer employs the same word to describe his own death\nwhich is employed here. It is the only other instance in Scripture\nof its use in that sense. And so I draw this simple lesson; that\nmighty death which was accomplished upon Calvary, which is the crown\nand summit of all Revelation, beyond which God has nothing that He\ncan say or do to make men sure of His heart and recipients of\nforgiveness, which was the channel of pardon for all past ages, and\nthe hope of the sainted dead--that death may turn for us our departure\ninto its own likeness. For us, too, all the grimness, all the darkness,\nall the terror, may pass away, and it may become simply a change of\nplace, and a going home to God. If we believe that Jesus died, we\nbelieve that He has thereby smoothed and softened and lessened our\ndeath into a sleep in Him.\n\nNor need we forget the special meaning of the word. If we have set\nour hopes upon Christ, and, as sinful men and women, have cast the\nburden of our sins, and the weight of our salvation, on His strong\narm, then life will be blessed, and death, when it comes, will be a\ntrue Exodus, the going out of the slaves from the land of bondage,\nand passing through the divided sea, not into a weary wilderness,\nbut into the light of the love and the blessedness of the land where\nour Brother is King, and where we shall share His reign.\n\nI have been speaking to you of what Christ's death is in many\nregions of the universe, in many eras of time. My brother, what is\nChrist's death to you? Can you say, 'The life that I live in the\nflesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave\nHimself for me?'\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST HASTENING TO THE CROSS\n\n\n    'And it came to pass, when the time was come that He\n    should be received up, He stedfastly set His face to\n    go to Jerusalem.'--LUKE ix. 51.\n\nThere are some difficulties, with which I need not trouble you here,\nas to bringing the section of this Gospel to which these words are\nthe introduction, into its proper chronological place in relation to\nthe narratives; but, putting these on one side for the present,\nthere seems no doubt that the Evangelist's intention here is to\nrepresent the beginning of our Lord's last journey from Galilee to\nJerusalem--a journey which was protracted and devious, and the\nnarrative of which in this Gospel, as you will perceive, occupies a\nvery large portion of its whole contents.\n\nThe picture that is given in my text is that of a clear knowledge of\nwhat waited Him, of a steadfast resolve to accomplish the purpose of\nthe divine love, and that resolve not without such a shrinking of\nsome part of His nature that He had 'to _set_ His face to go to\nJerusalem.'\n\nThe words come into parallelism very strikingly with a great\nprophecy of the Messiah in the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, where we\nread, 'The Lord God will help me, therefore shall I not be\nconfounded'--or, as the words have been rendered, 'shall not suffer\nmyself to be overcome by mockery'--'therefore have I set my face\nlike a flint.' In the words both of the Prophet and of the\nEvangelist there is the same idea of a resolved will, as the result\nof a conscious effort directed to prevent circumstances which tended\nto draw Him back, from producing their effect. The graphic narrative\nof the Evangelist Mark adds one more striking point to that picture\nof high resolve. He tells us, speaking of what appears to be the\nfinal epoch in this long journey to the Cross, 'They were in the\nway, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus went before them; and they\nwere amazed: and as they followed, they were afraid.' What a picture\nthat is, Christ striding along the steep mountain path far in\nadvance--impelled by that same longing which sighs so wonderfully\nin His words, 'How am I straitened till it be accomplished,'--with\nsolemn determination in the gentle face, and His feet making haste to\nrun in the way of the Father's commandments! And lagging behind, the\nlittle group, awed into almost stupor, and shrinking in\nuncomprehending terror from that light of unconquerable resolve and\nmore than mortal heroism that blazed in His eyes!\n\nIf we fix, then, on this picture, and as we are warranted in doing,\nregard it as giving us a glimpse of the very heart of Christ, I\nthink it may well suggest to us considerations that may tend to make\nmore real to us that sacrifice that He made, more deep to us that\nlove by which He was impelled, and may perhaps tend to make our love\nmore true and our resolve more fixed. 'He set His face to go to\nJerusalem.'\n\nI. First, then, we may take, I think, from these words, the thought\nof the perfect clearness with which all through Christ's life He\nforesaw the inevitable and purposed end.\n\nHere, indeed, the Evangelist leaps over the suffering of the Cross,\nand thinks only of the time when He shall be lifted up upon the\nthrone; but in that calm and certain prevision which, in His\nmanhood, the Divine Son of God did exercise concerning His own\nearthly life, between Him and the glory there ever stood the black\nshadow thrown by Calvary. When He spoke of being 'lifted up,' He\never meant by that pregnant and comprehensive word, at once man's\nelevation of Him on the accursed tree, and the Father's elevation of\nHim upon the throne at His right hand! The future was, if I may so\nsay, in His eye so foreshortened that the two things ran into one,\nand the ambiguous expression did truly connote the one undivided act\nof prescient consciousness in which He at once recognised the Cross\nand the throne. And so, when the time was come that He should be\nreceived up, He 'steadfastly set His face to go to Jerusalem.'\n\nNow, there is another thing to be noticed. That vision of the\ncertain end which here fills His mind and impels His conduct, was by\nno means new with Him. Modern unbelieving commentators and critics\nupon the Gospels have tried their best to represent Christ's life\nas, at a certain point in it, being modified by His recognition of\nthe fact that His mission was a failure, and that there was nothing\nleft for Him but martyrdom! I believe that that is as untrue to the\nfacts of the Gospel story upon any interpretation of them, as it is\nrepulsive to the instincts of devout hearts; and without troubling\nyou with thoughts about it I need only refer to two words of His.\nWhen was it that He said, 'Destroy this temple, and in three days I\nwill build it up'? When was it that He said, 'As Moses lifted up the\nserpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted\nup'? The one saying was uttered at the very beginning of His public\nwork, and the other in His conversation with Nicodemus. On the\ntestimony of these two sayings, if there were none else, I think\nthere is no option but to believe that from the first there stood\nclear before Him the necessity and the certainty of the Cross, and\nthat it was no discovery made at a certain point of His course.\n\nAnd then, remember that we are not to think of Him as, like many an\nearthly hero and martyr, regarding a violent and bloody death as\nbeing the very probable result of faithful boldness, but to believe\nthat He, looking on from the beginning to that end, regarded it\nalways as being laid upon Him by a certain divine necessity, into\nwhich necessity He entered with the full submission and acquiescence\nof His own will, and from the beginning knew that Calvary was the\nwork for which He had come, and that His love would fail of its\nexpression, and the divine purpose would fail of its realisation,\nand His whole mission would fail of all its meaning, unless He died\nfor men. The martyr looks to the scaffold and says, 'It stands in my\nway, and I must either be untrue to conscience or I must go there,\nand so I will go.' Christ said, 'The Cross is in My path, and on it\nand from it I shall exercise the influence, to exercise which I have\ncome into the world, and there I shall _do_ the thing which I\ncame forth from the Father to do.' He thought of His death not as\nthe end of His work, but as the centre-point of it; not as the\ntermination of His activity, but as its climax, to which all the\nrest was subordinated, and without which all the rest was nought. He\ndoes not die, and so seal a faithful life by an heroic death,--but\ndies, so bearing and bearing away man's sin. He regarded from the\nbeginning 'the glory that should follow,' and the suffering through\nwhich He had to wade to reach it, in one and the same act of\nprescience, and said, 'Lo, I come, in the volume of the book it is\nwritten of Me.'\n\nAnd I think, dear friends, if we carried with us more distinctly\nthan we do that one simple thought, that in all the human joys, in\nall the apparently self-forgetting tenderness, of that Lord who had\na heart for every sorrow and an ear for every complaint, and a hand\nopen as day and full of melting charity for every need--that in\nevery moment of that life, in the boyhood, in the dawning manhood,\nin the maturity of His growing human powers--there was always\npresent one black shadow, towards which He ever went straight with\nthe consent of His will and with the clearest eye, we should\nunderstand something more of how His life as well as His death was a\nsacrifice for us sinful men!\n\nWe honour and love men who crush down their own sorrows in order to\nhelp their fellows. We wonder with almost reverence when we see some\nmartyr, in sight of the faggots, pause to do a kindness to some\nweeping heart in the crowd, or to speak a cheering word. We admire\nthe leisure and calm of spirit which he displays. But all these\npale, and the very comparison may become an insult, before that\nheart which ever discerned Calvary, and never let the sight hinder\none deed of kindness, nor silence one gracious word, nor check one\nthrob of sympathy.\n\nII. Still further, the words before us lead to a second\nconsideration, which I have just suggested in my last sentence--Our\nLord's perfect willingness for the sacrifice which He saw before\nHim.\n\nWe have here brought into the narrowest compass, and most clearly\nset forth, the great standing puzzle of all thought, which can only\nbe solved by action. On the one side there is the distinctest\nknowledge of a divine purpose that _will_ be executed; on the\nother side there is the distinctest consciousness that at each step\ntowards the execution of it He is constrained by no foreign and\nimposed necessity, but is going to the Cross by His own will. 'The\nSon of Man must be lifted up.' 'It _became_ Him to make the\nCaptain of salvation perfect through sufferings.' 'It _behoved_\nHim to be made in all points like His brethren.' The Eternal Will of\nthe Father, the purpose purposed before the foundation of the world,\nthe solemn prophecies from the beginning of time, constituted the\nnecessity, and involved the certainty, of His death on the Cross.\nBut are we, therefore, to think that Jesus Christ was led along the\npath that ended there, by a force which overbore and paralysed His\nhuman will? Was not His life, and especially His death,\n_obedience_? Was there not, therefore, in Him, as in us all,\nthe human will that could cheerfully submit; and must there not,\nthen, have been, at each step towards the certain end, a fresh act\nof submission and acceptance of the will of the Father that had sent\nHim?\n\n'Clear knowledge of the end as divinely appointed and certain'; yes,\none might say, and if so, there could have been no voluntariness in\ntreading the path that leads to it. 'Voluntariness in treading the\npath that leads to it, and if so, there could have been no divine\nordination of the end.' Not so! When human thought comes, if I may\nso say, full butt against a stark, staring contradiction like that,\nit is no proof that either of the propositions is false. It is only\nlike the sign-boards that the iceman puts upon the thin ice,\n'dangerous!' a warning that that is not a place for us to tread. We\nhave to keep a firm hold of what is certified to us, on either side,\nby its appropriate evidence, and leave the reconciliation, if it can\never be given to finite beings, to a higher wisdom, and, perchance,\nto another world!\n\nBut that is a digression from my more immediate purpose, which is\nsimply to bring before our minds, as clearly as I can, that perfect,\ncontinuous, ever-repeated willingness, expressing itself in a chain\nof constant acts that touch one upon the other, which Christ\nmanifested to embrace the Cross, and to accomplish what was at once\nthe purpose of the Father's will and the purpose of His own.\n\nAnd it may be worth while, just for a moment, to touch lightly upon\nsome of the many points which bring out so clearly in these Gospel\nnarratives the wholly and purely voluntary character of Christ's\ndeath.\n\nTake, for instance, the very journey which I am speaking of now. Christ\nwent up to Jerusalem, says my text. What did He go there for? He went,\nas you will see, if you look at the previous circumstance,--He went in\norder, if I might use such a word, to precipitate the collision, and to\nmake His Crucifixion certain. He was under the ban of the Sanhedrim;\nbut perfectly safe as long as He had stopped up among the hills of\nGalilee. He was as unsafe when He went up to Jerusalem as John Huss\nwhen he went to the Council of Constance with the Emperor's safe-conduct\nin his belt; or as a condemned heretic would have been in the old days,\nif he had gone and stood in that little dingy square outside the palace\nof the Inquisition at Rome, and there, below the obelisk, preached his\nheresies! Christ had been condemned in the council of the nation; but\nthere were plenty of hiding-places among the Galilean hills, and the\nfrontier was close at hand, and it needed a long arm to reach from\nJerusalem all the way across Samaria to the far north. Knowing that,\nHe steadfastly set His face to go to Jerusalem, and, if I might use\nthe expression, went straight into the lion's mouth. Why? Because He\nchose to die.\n\nAnd, then, take another circumstance. If you will look carefully at\nthe Scripture narrative, you will find that from about this point in\nHis life onwards there comes a distinct change in one very important\nrespect. Before this He shunned publicity; after this He courted it.\nBefore this, when He spoke in veiled words of His sufferings, He\nsaid to His disciples, 'Tell no man till the Son of man be risen\nfrom the dead.' Hereafter though there are frequent prophecies of\nHis sufferings, there is no repetition of that prohibition. He goes\nup to Jerusalem, and His triumphal entry adds fuel to the fire. His\nlanguage at the last moment appeals to the publicity of His final\nvisit to that city--'Was I not daily with you in the Temple and ye\nlaid no hands upon Me?' Everything that He could do He does to draw\nattention to Himself--everything, that is to say, within the limits\nof the divine decorum, which was ever observed in His life, of whom\nit was written long, long ago, 'He shall not strive, nor cry, nor\ncause His voice to be heard in the streets.' There is, then, a most\nunmistakable change to be felt by any who will carefully read the\nnarratives in their bearing upon this one point--a resolve to draw\nthe eyes of the enemy upon Himself.\n\nAnd to the same purpose, did you ever notice how calmly, with full\nself-consciousness, distinctly understanding what He is doing,\ndistinctly knowing to what it will lead, He makes His words ever\nheavier and heavier, and more and more sharply pointed with\ndenunciations, as the last loving wrestle between Himself and the\nscribes and Pharisees draws near to its bloody close? Instead of\nsoftening He hardens His tones--if I dare use the word, where all is\nthe result of love--at any rate He keeps no terms; but as the danger\nincreases His words become plainer and sterner, and approach as near\nas ever _His_ words could do to bitterness and rebuke. It was\nthen, whilst passionate hate was raging round Him, and eager eyes\nwere gleaming revenge, that He poured out His sevenfold woes upon\nthe 'hypocrites,' the 'blind guides,' the 'fools,' the 'whited\nsepulchres,' the 'serpents,' the 'generation of vipers,' whom He\nsees filling up the measure of their fathers in shedding His\nrighteous blood.\n\nAnd again, the question recurs--Why? And again, besides other\nreasons, which I have not time to touch upon here, the answer, as it\nseems to me, must unmistakably be, Because He willed to die, and He\nwilled to die because He loved us.\n\nThe same lesson is taught, too, by that remarkable incident\npreserved for us by the Gospel of John, of the strange power which\naccompanied His avowal of Himself to the rude soldiers who had come\nto seize Him, and which struck them to the ground in terror and\nimpotence. One flash comes forth to tell of the sleeping lightning\nthat He will not use, and then having revealed the might that could\nhave delivered Him from their puny arms, He returns to His attitude\nof self-surrender for our sakes, with those wonderful words which\ntell how He gave up Himself that we might be free, 'If ye seek Me,\nlet these go their way.' The scene is a parable of the whole work of\nJesus; it reveals His power to have shaken off every hand laid upon\nHim, His voluntary submission to His else impotent murderers, and\nthe love which moved Him to the surrender.\n\nOther illustrations of the same sort I must leave untouched at\npresent, and only remind you of the remarkable peculiarity of the\nlanguage in which all the Evangelists describe the supreme moment\nwhen Christ passed from His sufferings. 'When He had cried with a\nloud voice, He yielded up the ghost,'--He sent away the spirit--'He\nbreathed out' (His spirit), 'He gave up the ghost.' In simple truth,\nHe 'committed His spirit' into the Father's hand. And I believe that\nit is an accurate and fair comment to say, that that is no mere\neuphemism for death, but carries with it the thought that He was\n_active_ in that moment; that the nails and the spear and the\nCross did not kill Christ, but that Christ _willed_ to die! And\nthough it is true on the one side, as far as men's hatred and\npurpose are concerned. 'Whom with wicked hands ye have crucified and\nslain'; on the other side, as far as the deepest verity of the fact\nis concerned, it is still more true, 'I have power to lay it down,\nand I have power to take it again.'\n\nBut at all events, whatever you may think of such an exposition as\nthat, the great principle which my text illustrates for us at an\nearlier stage is, at least, irrefragably established--that our dear\nLord, when He died, died, because He _willed_ to do so. He was\nman and therefore He _could_ die; but He was not man in such\nfashion as that He _must_ die. In His bodily frame was the\npossibility, not the necessity, of death. And that being so, the\nvery fact of His death is the most signal proof that He is Lord of\ndeath as well as of life. He dies not because He must, He dies not\nbecause of faintness and pain and wounds. These and they who\ninflicted them had no power at all over Him. He chooses to die; and\nHe wills it because He wills to fulfil the eternal purpose of divine\nlove, which is His purpose, and to bring life to the world. His hour\nof weakness was His hour of strength. They lifted Him on a cross,\nand it became a throne. In the moment when death seemed to conquer\nHim, He was really using it that He might abolish it. When He gave\ntip the ghost, He showed Himself Lord of death as marvellously and\nas gloriously as when He burst its bands and rose from the grave;\nfor this grisly shadow, too, was His servant, and He says to him,\n'Come, and he cometh; do this, and he doeth it.' 'Thou didst\novercome the sharpness of death' when Thou didst willingly bow Thy\nhead to it, and didst die not because Thou _must_, but because\nThou _wouldest_.\n\nIII. Still further, let me remind you how, in the language of this\nverse, there is also taught us that there was in Christ a natural\nhuman shrinking from the Cross.\n\nThe steadfast and resolved will held its own, overcoming the natural\nhuman reluctance. 'He _set_ His face.' People are afraid to\ntalk--and the instinct, the reverent instinct, is right, however we\nmay differ from the application of it--people are afraid to talk, as\nif there was any shrinking in Christ from the Cross. I believe there\nwas. Was the agony in Gethsemane a reality or a shadow, when He\nsaid, 'O My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass?' What did\nthat prayer mean, if there was not something in His nature that\nrecoiled from the agony and mysterious horror of these awful hours?\nLet us take heed lest in our reverence we destroy the very notion on\nwhich our hope rests--that of Christ as suffering. For that one word\ninvolves all that I say--Did Christ _suffer_ or did He not? If\nHe suffered, then human nature shrank from it. The two ideas are\ncorrelative, you cannot part them--suffering and reluctance, a\nperfectly innocent, natural, inevitable, human instinct, inseparable\nfrom corporeity, that makes men recoil from pain. 'He endured the\nCross,' says the Book--if there was not reluctance what was there to\n'endure'? 'Despising the shame'--if there was not something from\nwhich He shrank, what was there to 'despise'? 'He _set_ His\nface'--if there was not something in Him that hung back, what need\nwas there for the hardening of the countenance? If Christ has\nsuffered, then His flesh and blood quivered beforehand with the\npangs and shrank from these, and He would have been spared the cup.\nSuch instinctive recoil is not evil, it is not rebellion, it is not\nunwillingness to submit to the Father's will. His whole being clave\nto that, and never swerved from it for one moment. But still,\nbecause the path was darkened by mysterious blackness, and led to a\nCross, therefore He, even He, who did always the things that pleased\nthe Father, and ever delighted to do His will, needed to '_set_\nHis face' to go up to the mountain of sacrifice.\n\nAnd now, if you will take along with that the other thought that I\nsuggested at the beginning of these remarks, and remember that this\nshrinking must have been as continuous as the vision, and that this\novercoming of it must have been as persistent and permanent as the\nresolve, I think we get a point of view from which to regard that\nlife of Christ's--full of pathos, full of tender appeals to our\nhearts and to our thankfulness.\n\nAll along that consecrated road He walked, and each step represented\na separate act of will, and each separate act of will represented a\ntriumph over the reluctance of flesh and blood. As we may say, every\ntime that He planted His foot on the flinty path the blood flowed.\nEvery step was a pain like that of a man enduring the ordeal and\nwalking on burning iron or sharp steel.\n\nThe old taunt of His enemies, as they stood beneath His Cross, might\nhave been yielded to--'If Thou be the Son of God, come down and we\nwill believe.' I ask why did not He? I know that, to those who think\nless loftily of Christ than we who believe Him to be the Son of God,\nthe words sound absurd--but I for one believe that the only thing\nthat kept Him there, the only answer to that question is--Because He\nloved me with an everlasting love, and died to redeem me. Because of\nthat love, He came to earth; because of that love, He tabernacled\namong us; because of that love, He gazed all His life long on the\nCross of shame; because of that love, He trod unfaltering, with\neager haste and solemn resolve, the rough and painful road; because\nof that love, He listened not to the voice that at the beginning\ntempted Him to win the world for Himself by an easier path; because\nof that love, He listened not--though He could have done so--to the\nvoices that at the end taunted Him with their proffered allegiance\nif He would come down from the Cross; because of that love, He gave\nup His spirit. And through all the weariness and contumely and pain,\nthat love held His will fixed to its purpose, and bore Him over\nevery hindrance that barred His path. Many waters quench it not.\n_That_ love is stronger than death; mightier than all opposing\npowers; deep and great beyond all thought or thankfulness. It\nsilences all praise. It beggars all recompense. To believe it is\nlife. To feel it is heaven.\n\nBut one more remark I would make on this whole subject. We are far\ntoo much accustomed to think of our Saviour as presenting only the\ngentle graces of human nature. He presents those that belong to the\nstrong side of our nature just as much. In Him are all power, manly\nenergy, resolved consecration; everything which men call heroism is\nthere. 'He steadfastly set His face.' And everything which men call\ntenderest love, most dewy pity, most marvellous and transcendent\npatience, is all there too. The type of manhood and the type of\nwomanhood are both and equally in Jesus Christ; and He is _the_\nMan, whole, entire, perfect, with all power breathed forth in all\ngentleness, with all gentleness made steadfast and mighty by His\nstrength. 'And he said unto me, Behold the lion of the tribe of\nJudah. And I beheld, and lo, a lamb!'--the blended symbols of kingly\nmight, and lowly meekness, power in love, and love in power. The\nsupremest act of resolved consecration and heroic self-immolation\nthat ever was done upon earth--an act which we degrade by\nparalleling it with any other--was done at the bidding of love that\npitied us. As we look up at that Cross we know not whether is more\nwonderfully set forth the pitying love of Christ's most tender\nheart, or the majestic energy of Christ's resolved will. The blended\nrays pour out, dear brethren, and reach to each of us. Do not look\nto that great sacrifice with idle wonder. Bend upon it no eye of\nmere curiosity. Beware of theorising merely about what it reveals\nand what it does. Turn not away from it carelessly as a twice-told\ntale. But look, believing that all that divine and human love pours\nout its treasure upon you, that all that firmness of resolved\nconsecration and willing surrender to the death of the Cross was for\nyou. Look, believing that you had then, and have now, a place in His\nheart, and in His sacrifice. Look, remembering that it was because\nHe would save you, that Himself He could not save,\n\nAnd as, from afar, we look on that great sight, let His love melt\nour hearts to an answering fervour, and His fixed will give us, too,\nstrength to delight in obedience, to set our faces like a flint. Let\nthe power of His sacrifice, and the influence of His example which\nthat sacrifice commends to our loving copy, and the grace of His\nSpirit whom He, since that sacrifice, pours upon men, so mould us\nthat we, too, like Him, may 'quit us like men, be strong,' and all\nour strength and 'all our deeds' be wielded and 'done in charity.'\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S MESSENGERS: THEIR EQUIPMENT AND WORK\n\n\n    'After these things, the Lord appointed other seventy\n    also, and sent them two and two before His face into\n    every city and place whither He Himself would come.\n    2. Therefore said He unto them, The harvest truly is\n    great, but the labourers are few: pray ye therefore\n    the Lord of the harvest, that He would send forth\n    labourers into His harvest. 3. Go your ways: behold, I\n    send you forth as lambs among wolves. 4. Carry neither\n    purse, nor scrip, nor shoes; and salute no man by the\n    way. 5. And into whatsoever house ye enter, first say,\n    Peace be to this house. 6. And if the son of peace be\n    there, your peace shall rest upon it: if not, it shall\n    turn to you again. 7. And in the same house remain,\n    eating and drinking such things as they give: for the\n    labourer is worthy of his hire. Go not from house to\n    house. 8. And into whatsoever city ye enter, and they\n    receive  you, eat such things as are set before you:\n    9. And heal the sick that are therein; and say unto\n    them, The kingdom of God is come nigh unto you. 10. But\n    into  whatsoever city ye enter, and they receive you\n    not, go your ways out into the streets of the same,\n    and say, 11. Even the very dust of your city, which\n    cleaveth on us, we do wipe off against you:\n    notwithstanding, be ye sure of this, that the kingdom\n    of God is come nigh unto you.... 17. And the seventy\n    returned again with joy, saying, Lord, even the devils\n    are subject unto us through Thy name. 18. And He said\n    unto them, I beheld Satan as lightning fall from\n    heaven. 19. Behold, I give unto you power to tread on\n    serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the\n    enemy; and nothing shall by any means hurt you.\n    20. Notwithstanding in this rejoice not, that the\n    spirits are subject unto you; but rather rejoice,\n    because your names are written in heaven.'\n    --LUKE x. 1-11: 17-20.\n\nThe mission of the Seventy is clearly distinguished from and\ncontrasted with that of the Twelve by the word 'others' in verse 1,\nwhich points back to Luke ix.1. The Twelve were prohibited from\ngoing beyond Jews;  the Seventy were under no such restriction, and\nwere probably sent to the half-Gentile districts on the east of\nJordan. The number of twelve had reference to the number of the\ntribes; that of seventy may have referred to the number of the\nelders, but it has also been suggested that its reference is to the\nsupposed number of the nations. The appointment of the Twelve was to\na permanent office; that of the Seventy to a transitory mission.\nMuch of the charge given to either is given to both, as is most\nnatural, since they had the same message, and both were sent to\nprepare for Christ's personal ministry. But though the Seventy were\nsent out but for a short time, permanent principles for the\nguidance, not only of Christian workers, but of all Christian lives,\nare embodied in the charge which they received.\n\nWe note, first, that all personal service should be preceded by\nintense realisation of the immense field, and of the inadequacy, of\nChristian effort, which vision will culminate in prayer for more\ntoilers to be 'sent forth.' The word implies a certain measure of\ncompulsion, for an overmastering impulse is always needed to\novercome human reluctance and laziness. No man has ever done large\nservice for God who has not felt that, like the prophet, he was laid\nhold of by the Spirit, and borne away, whether he would or no. 'I\nmust speak,' is felt by every true messenger of God. The prayer was\nanswered by the sending of the pray-ers, as it often is. Note how\nJesus implies that He is Lord of the harvest, in that His sending\nthem is the answer to the petition. Note, too, the authority which\nHe claims to exercise supreme sovereignty over the lives of men. He\nhas the right to fling them into deadly peril for no other purpose\nthan to proclaim His name. Lambs, ringed round by wolves with white,\ngleaming teeth, have little chance of life. Jesus gives His servants\nfull warning of dangers, and on the very warning builds an\nexhortation to quiet confidence; for, if the sentence ends with\n'lambs in the midst of wolves,' it begins with 'I send you forth,'\nand that is enough, for He will defend them when He seeth the wolf\ncoming. Not only so, but He will also provide for all their needs,\nso they want no baggage nor money, nor even a staff. A traveller\nwithout any of these would be in poor case, but they are not to\ncarry such things, because they carry Jesus. He who sends them forth\ngoes with them whom He sends. Now, this precept, in its literal\nform, was expressly abolished afterwards (Luke xxii. 36), but the\nspirit of it is permanent. If Christ sends us, we may trust Him to\ntake care of us as long as we are on His errands.\n\nEnergetic pursuit of their work, unimpeded by distractions of social\nintercourse, is meant by the prohibition of saluting by the way.\nThat does not mean churlish isolation, but any one who has ever seen\ntwo Easterns 'saluting' knows what a long-drawn-out affair it is.\nHow far along the road one might have travelled while all that empty\nceremony was being got through! The time for salutations is when the\njourney is over. They mean something then. The great effect of the\npresence of Christ's servants should be to impart the peace which\nthey themselves possess. We should put reality into conventional\ncourtesies. All Christians are to be peacemakers in the deepest\nsense, and especially in regard to men's relations with God. The\nwhole scope of our work may be summed up as being to proclaim and\nbring peace with God, with ourselves, with all others, and with\ncircumstances. The universality of our message is implied in the\nfact that the salutation is to be given in every house entered, and\nwithout any inquiry whether a 'son of peace' is there. The reflex\nblessedness of Christian effort is taught in the promise that the\npeace, vainly wished for those who would not receive it, is not\nwasted like spilt water, but comes back like a dove, to the hand of\nits sender. If we do no other person good, we bless ourselves by all\nwork for others.\n\nThe injunctions as to conduct in the house or city that receives the\nmessengers carry two principles of wide application. First, they\ndemand clear disinterestedness and superiority to vulgar appetites.\nChrist's servants are not to be fastidious as to their board and\nlodging. They are not to make demands for more refined diet than\ntheir hosts are accustomed to have, and they are not to shift their\nquarters, though it were from a hovel to a palace. The suspicion\nthat a Christian worker is fond of good living and sensuous delights\nrobs his work of power. But the injunction teaches also that there\nis no generosity in those who hear the message giving, and no\nobligation laid on those who deliver it by their receiving, enough\nto live and work on. The less we obviously look for, the more shall\nwe probably receive. A high-minded man need not scruple to take the\n'hire'; a high-minded giver will not suppose that he has hired the\nreceiver to be his servant.\n\nThe double substance of the work is next briefly stated. The order\nin which its two parts stands is remarkable, for the healing of the\nsick is put first, and the proclamation of the nearness of the\nkingdom second. Possibly the reason is that the power to heal was a\nnew gift. Its very priority in mention may imply that it was but a\nmeans to an end, a part of the equipment for the true and proper\nwork of preaching the coming of the kingdom and its King. At all\nevents, let us learn that Jesus wills the continual combination of\nregard to the bodily wants and sicknesses, and regard to the\nspiritual needs of men.\n\nThe solemn instructions as to what was to be done in the case of\nrejection breathe a spirit the reverse of sanguine. Jesus had no\nillusions as to the acceptance of the message, and He will send no\nman out to work hiding from him the difficulties and opposition\nprobably to be encountered. Much wisdom lies in deciding when a field\nof labour or a method of work should be abandoned as hopeless--for\nthe present and for the individual worker, at all events. To do it\ntoo soon is cowardice; to delay it too long is not admirable\nperseverance, but blindness to plain providences. To shake off the\ndust is equivalent to severing all connection. The messenger will\nnot bring away the least thing belonging to the city. But whatever\nmen's unbelief, it does not affect the fact, but it does affect\ntheir relation to the fact. The gracious message was at first that\n'the kingdom of God is come nigh _unto you_,' but the last\nshape of it leaves out 'unto you': for rejection of the word cuts\noff from beneficial share in the word, and the kingdom, when it\ncomes, has no blessing for the unbelieving soul.\n\nThe return of the Seventy soon followed their being sent forth. They\ncame back with a childish, surprised joy, and almost seem to have\nthought that Jesus would be as much astonished and excited as they\nwere with the proof of the power of His name. They had found that\nthey could not only heal the sick, but cast out demons. Jesus'\nanswer is meant to quiet down their excitement by teaching them that\nHe had known what they were doing whilst they were doing it. When\ndid He behold Satan fall from heaven? The context seems to require\nthat it should be at the time when the Seventy were casting out\ndemons. The contest between the personal Source of evil and Jesus\nwas fought out by the principals, not by their subordinates, and it\nis already victoriously decided in Christ's sight. Therefore, as the\nsequel of His victory, He enlarges His gifts to His servants,\ncouching the charter in the words of a psalm (Ps. xci.). Nothing can\nharm the servant without the leave of the Master, and if any evil\nbefall him in his work, the evil in the evil, the poison on the\narrow-head, will be wiped off and taken away. But great as are the\ngifts to the faithful servant, they are less to be rejoiced in than\nhis personal inclusion among the citizens of heaven. Gifts and\npowers are good, and may legitimately be rejoiced in; but to possess\neternal life, and to belong to the mother-city of us all, the New\nJerusalem, is better than all gifts and all powers.\n\n\n\n\nNEIGHBOURS FAR OFF\n\n\n    'And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted\n    Him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal\n    life? 26. He said unto him, What is written in the law?\n    how readest thou? 27. And he, answering, said, Thou\n    shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and\n    with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with\n    all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself. 28. And He\n    said unto him, Thou hast answered right: this do, and\n    thou shalt live. 29. But he, willing to justify\n    himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my neighbour?\n    30. And Jesus, answering, said, A certain man went down\n    from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves,\n    which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and\n    departed, leaving him half dead. 31. And by chance\n    there came down a certain priest that way; and when he\n    saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32. And\n    likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and\n    looked on him, and passed by on the other side. 33. But\n    a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he\n    was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him,\n    34. And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring\n    in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and\n    brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35. And on\n    the morrow, when he departed, he took out two pence,\n    and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care\n    of him: and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come\n    again, I will repay thee. 36. Which now of these three,\n    thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among\n    the thieves! 37. And he said. He that showed mercy on\n    him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.'\n    --LUKE x. 25-37.\n\nThe lawyer's first question was intended to 'tempt' Jesus, which\nhere seems to mean, rather, 'to test'; that is, to ascertain His\northodoxy or His ability. Christ walks calmly through the snare, as\nif not seeing it. His answer is unimpeachably orthodox, and withal\njust hints in the slightest way that the question was needless,\nsince one so learned in the law knew well enough what were the\nconditions of inheriting life. The lawyer knows the letter too well\nto be at a loss what to answer. But it is remarkable that he gives\nthe same combination of two passages which Jesus gives in His last\nduel with the Pharisees (Matt. xxii; Mark xii.). Did Jesus adopt\nthis lawyer's summary? Or is Luke's narrative condensed, omitting\nstages by which Jesus led the man to so wise an answer?\n\nOur Lord's rejoinder has a marked tone of authority, which puts the\nlawyer in his right place. His answer is commended, as by one whose\nestimate has weight; and his practice is implicitly condemned, as by one\nwho knows, and has a right to judge. 'This do' is a sharp sword-thrust.\nIt also unites the two 'loves' as essentially one, by saying 'This'-not\n'these'--'do.' The lawyer feels the prick, and it is his defective\npractice, not his question, which he seeks to 'justify.' He did not\nthink that his love to God needed any justification. He had fully done\nhis duty there, but about the other half he was less sure. So he tried\nto ride off, lawyer-like, on a question of the meaning of words. 'Who\nis my neighbour?' is the question answered by the lovely story of the\nkindly Samaritan.\n\nI. The main purpose, then, is to show how far off men may be, and\nyet be neighbours. The lawyer's question, 'Who is my neighbour?' is\nturned round the other way in Christ's form of it at the close. It\nis better to ask 'Whose neighbour am I?' than 'Who is my neighbour?'\nThe lawyer meant by the word 'a person whom I am bound to love.' He\nwanted to know how far an obligation extended which he had no mind\nto recognise an inch farther than he was obliged. Probably he had in\nhis thought the Rabbinical limitations which made it as much duty to\n'hate thine enemy' as to 'love thy neighbour.' Probably, too, he\naccepted the national limitations, which refused to see any\nneighbours outside the Jewish people.\n\n'Neighbourhood,' in his judgment, implied 'nearness,' and he wished to\nknow how far off the boundaries of the region included in the command\nlay. There are a great many of us like him, who think that the\nobligation is a matter of geography, and that love, like force, is\ninversely as the square of the distance. A good deal of the so-called\nvirtue of 'patriotism' is of this spurious sort. But Christ's way of\nputting the question sweeps all such limitations aside. 'Who became\nneighbour to' the wounded man? 'He who showed mercy on him,' said the\nlawyer, unwilling to name the Samaritan, and by his very reluctance\ngiving the point to his answer which Christ wished to bring out. We\nare not to love because we are neighbours in any geographical sense,\nbut we become neighbours to the man farthest from us when we love and\nhelp him. The relation has nothing to do with proximity. If we prove\nourselves neighbours to any man by exercising love to him, then the\nrelation intended by the word is as wide as humanity. We recognise\nthat A. is our neighbour when a throb of pity shoots through our\nheart, and thereby we become neighbours to him.\n\nThe story is not, properly speaking, a parable, or imaginary\nnarrative of something in the physical world intended to be\ntranslated into something in the spiritual region, but it is an\nillustration (by an imaginary narrative) of the actual virtue in\nquestion. Every detail is beautifully adapted to bring out the\nlesson that the obligation of neighbourly affection has nothing to\ndo with nearness either of race or religion, but is as wide as\nhumanity. The wounded man was probably a Jew, but it is significant\nthat his nationality is not mentioned. He is 'a certain man,' that\nis all. The Samaritan did not ask where he was born before he helped\nhim. So Christ teaches us that sorrow and need and sympathy and help\nare of no nationality.\n\nThat lesson is still more strongly taught by making the helper a\nSamaritan. Perhaps, if Jesus had been speaking in America, he would\nhave made him a negro; or, if in France, a German; or, if in\nEngland, a 'foreigner.' It was a daring stroke to bring the despised\nname of 'Samaritan' into the story, and one sees what a hard morsel\nto swallow the lawyer found it, by his unwillingness to name him\nafter all.\n\nThe nations have not yet learned the deep, simple truth of this\nparable. It absolutely forbids all limitations of mercy and help. It\nmakes every man the neighbour of every man. It carries in germ the\ngreat truth of the brotherhood of the race. 'Humanity' is a purely\nChristian word, and a conception that was never dreamed of before\nChrist had showed us the unity of mankind. We slowly approximate to\nthe realisation of the teaching of this story, which is oftener\nadmired than imitated, and perhaps oftenest on the lips of people\nwho obey it least.\n\nII. Another aspect of the parable is its lesson as to the true\nmanifestations of neighbourliness. The minutely detailed account of\nthe Samaritan's care for the half-dead man is not only graphic, but\ncarries large lessons. Compassionate sentiments are very well. They\nmust come first. The help that is given as a matter of duty, without\nthe outgoing of heart, will be worth little, and soon cease to flow;\nbut the emotion that does not drive the wheels of action, and set to\nwork to stanch the sorrows which cause it to run so easily, is worth\nstill less. It hardens the heart, as all feeling unexpressed in\naction does. If the priest and Levite had gone up to the man, and\nsaid, 'Ah, poor fellow, poor fellow! how sorry we are for you!\nsomebody ought to come and help you,' and so had trudged on their\nway, they would have been worse than they are painted as being.\n\nThe various acts are enumerated as showing the genius of true love.\nWe notice the swift, cool-headed deftness of the man, his having at\nhand the appliances needed, the business-like way in which he goes\nabout his kindness, his readiness to expend his wine and oil, his\nwillingness to do the surgeon's work, his cheerful giving up of his\n'own beast,' while he plodded along on foot, steadying the wounded\nman on his ass; his care for him at the inn; his generosity, and\nwithal his prudence, in not leaving a great sum in the host's hands,\nbut just enough to tide over a day or two, and his wise hint that he\nwould audit the accounts when he came back. This man's quick\ncompassion was blended with plenty of shrewdness, and was as\npractical as the hardest, least compassionate man could have been.\nThere is need for organisation, 'faculty,' and the like, in the work\nof loving our neighbour. A thousand pities that sometimes Christian\ncharity and Christian common-sense dissolve partnership. The\nSamaritan was a man of business, and he did his compassion in a\nbusiness-like fashion, as we should try to do.\n\nIII. Another lesson inwrought into the parable is the divorce\nbetween religion and neighbourliness, as shown in the conduct of the\npriest and Levite. Jericho was one of the priestly cities, so that\nthere would be frequent travellers on ecclesiastical errands. The\npriest was 'going down' (that is from Jerusalem), so he could not\nplead a 'pressing public engagement' at the Temple. The verbal\nrepetition of the description of the conduct of both him and the\nLevite serves to suggest its commonness. They two did exactly the\nsame thing, and so would twenty or two hundred ordinary passers by.\nThey saw the man lying in a pool of blood, and they made a wide\ncircuit, and, even in the face of such a sight, went on their way.\nProbably they said to themselves, 'Robbers again; the sooner we get\npast this dangerous bit, the better.' We see that they were\nheartless, but they did not see it. We do the same thing ourselves,\nand do not see that we do; for who of us has not known of many\nmiseries which we could have done something to stanch, and have left\nuntouched because our hearts were unaffected? The world would be a\nchanged place if every Christian attended to the sorrows that are\nplain before him.\n\nLet professing Christians especially lay to heart the solemn lesson\nthat there does lie in their very religion the possibility of their\nbeing culpably unconcerned about some of the world's wounds, and\nthat, if their love to God does not find a field for its\nmanifestation in active love to man, worship in the Temple will be\nmockery. Philanthropy is, in our days, often substituted for\nreligion. The service of man has been put forward as the only real\nservice of God. But philanthropic unbelievers and unphilanthropic\nbelievers are equally monstrosities. What God hath joined let not\nman put asunder. That simple 'and,' which couples the two great\ncommandments, expresses their indissoluble connection. Well for us\nif in our practice they are blended in one!\n\nIt is not spiritualising this narrative when we say that Jesus is\nHimself the great pattern of the swift compassion and effectual\nhelpfulness which it sets forth. Many unwise attempts have been made\nto tack on spiritual meanings to the story. These are as irreverent\nas destructive of its beauty and significance. But to say that\nChrist is the perfect example of that love to every man which the\nnarrative portrays, has nothing in common with these fancies. It is\nonly when we have found in Him the pity and the healing which we\nneed, that we shall go forth into the world with love as wide as\nHis.\n\n\n\n\nHOW TO PRAY\n\n\n    'And it came to pass, that, as He was praying in a\n    certain place, when He ceased, one of His disciples\n    said unto Him, Lord, teach us to pray, as John also\n    taught His disciples. 2. And He said unto them, When\n    ye pray, say, Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed\n    be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in\n    heaven, so in earth. 3. Give us day by day our daily\n    bread. 4. And  forgive us our sins; for we also forgive\n    every one that is indebted to us. And lead us not into\n    temptation; but deliver us from evil. 5. And He said\n    unto them, Which of you shall have a friend, and shall\n    go unto him at midnight, and say unto him, Friend, lend\n    me three loaves; 6. For a friend of mine in his journey\n    is come to me, and I have nothing to set before him?\n    7. And he from within shall answer and say, Trouble me\n    not: the door is now shut, and my children are with me\n    in bed; I cannot rise and give thee. 8. I say unto you,\n    Though he will not rise and give him, because he is his\n    friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and\n    give him as many as he needeth. 9. And I say unto you,\n    Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and ye shall\n    find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. 10. For\n    every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh\n    findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.\n    11. If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a\n    father, will he give him a stone? or if he ask a fish,\n    will he for a fish give him a serpent? 12. Or if he\n    shall ask an egg, will he offer him a scorpion? 13. If\n    ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto\n    your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father\n    give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him!--LUKE xi. 1-13.\n\nChrist's praying fired the disciples with desire to pray like Him.\nThere must have been something of absorption and blessedness in His\ncommunion with the Father which struck them with awe and longing,\nand which they would fain repeat. Do our prayers move any to taste\nthe devotion and joy which breathe through them? But low conceptions\nmingled with high desires in their request. They think that if He\nwill give them a form, that will be enough; and they wish to be as\nwell off as John's disciples, whose relation to their master seems\nto them parallel with theirs to Jesus.\n\nOur Lord's answer meets and transcends their wish. He does give them\na model prayer, and He adds encouragements to pray which inculcate\nconfidence and persistence. The passage, then, falls into two parts--the\npattern prayer (vs. 2-4), and the spirit of prayer as enforced by some\nencouragements (vs. 5-13). The material is so rich that we can but\ngather the surface wealth. Deep mines must lie unexplored here.\n\nI. The pattern of prayer. We call it the Lord's Prayer, but it is so\nonly in the sense that He gives it. It is our prayer for our use.\nHis own prayers remain unrecorded, except those in the upper room\nand at Gethsemane. This is the type to which His servants' prayers\nare to be conformed. 'After this manner pray ye,' whether in these\nwords or not. And the repetition of the words is often far enough\naway from catching their spirit. To suppose that our Lord simply met\nthe disciples' wish by giving them a form misconceives the genius of\nHis work. He gave something much better; namely, a pattern, the\nspirit of which we are to diffuse through all our petitions,\n\nTwo salient features of the prayer bring out the two great\ncharacteristics of all true Christian prayer. First, we note the\ninvocation. It is addressed to the Father. Our prayers are, then,\nafter the pattern only when they are the free, unembarrassed,\nconfident, and utterly frank whispers of a child to its father.\nConfidence and love should wing the darts which are to reach heaven.\nThat name, thoroughly realised, banishes fear and self-will, and\ninspires submission and aspiration. To cry,' Abba, Father,' is the\nessence of all prayer. Nothing more is needed.\n\nThe broad lesson drawn from the order of requests is the second\npoint to be noticed. If we have the child's spirit, we shall put the\nFather's honour first, and absolutely subordinate our own interests\nto it. So the first half of the prayer, like the first half of the\nDecalogue, deals with God's name and its glory. Alas! it is hard\neven for His child to keep this order. Natural self-regard must be\ncast out by love, if we are thus to pray. How few of us have reached\nthat height, not in mere words, but in unspoken desires!\n\nThe order of the several petitions in the first half of the prayer\nis significant. God's name (that is, His revealed character) being\nhallowed (that is, recognised as what it is), separate from all\nlimitation and creatural imperfection, and yet near in love as a\nFather is, the coming of His kingdom will follow; for where He is\nknown and honoured for what He is He will reign, and men, if they\nrightly knew Him, would fall before Him and serve Him. The hallowing\nof His name is the only foundation for His kingdom among us, and all\nknowledge of Him which does not lead to submission to His rule is\nfalse or incomplete.\n\nThe outward, visible establishment of God's kingdom in human society\nfollows individual acquaintance with His name. The doing of God's\nwill is the sign of His kingdom having come. The ocean is blue, like\nthe sky which it mirrors. Earth will be like heaven.\n\nThe second half of the prayer returns to personal interests; but\nGod's child has many brethren, and so His prayer is, not for 'me'\nand 'my,' but for 'us' and 'ours.' Our first need, if we start from\nthe surface and go inwards, is for the maintenance of bodily life.\nSo the petition for bread has precedence, not as being most, but\nleast, important. We are to recognise God's hand in blessing our\ndaily toil. We are to limit our desires to necessaries, and to leave\nthe future in His hands. Is this 'the manner' after which Christians\npray for perishable good? Where would anxious care or eager rushing\nafter wealth be, if it were?\n\nA deeper need, the chief in regard to the inner man, is deliverance\nfrom sin, in its two aspects of guilt and power. So the next\npetition is for pardon. Sin incurs debt. Forgiveness is the\nremission of penalty, but the penalty is not merely external\npunishment. The true penalty is separation from God, and His\nforgiveness is His loving on, undisturbed by sin. If we truly call\nGod Father, the image of His mercifulness will be formed in us; and\nunless we are forgiving, we shall certainly lose the consciousness\nof being forgiven, and bind our sins on our backs in all their\nweight. God's children need always to pray 'after this manner, 'for\nsin is not entirely conquered.\n\nPardon is meant to lead on to holiness. Hence the next clause in\neffect prays for sanctification. Knowing our own weakness, we may\nwell ask not to be placed in circumstances where the inducements to\nsin would be strong, even while we know that we may grow thereby, if\nwe resist. The shortened form of the prayer in Luke, according to\nthe Revised Version, omits 'deliver us from evil'; but that clause\nis necessary to complete the idea. Whether we read 'evil' or 'the\nevil one,' the clause refers to us as tempted, and, as it were, in\nthe grip of an enemy too strong for us. God alone can extricate us\nfrom the mouth of the lion. He will, if we ask Him. The only evil is\nto sin away our consciousness of sonship and to cling to the sin\nwhich separates us from God.\n\nII. A type of prayer is not all that we need. The spirit in which we\npray is still more important. So Jesus goes on to enjoin two things\nchiefly; namely, persistence and filial confidence. He presents to\nus a parable with its application (vs. 5-10), and the germ of a\nparable with its (vs. 11-13). Observe that these two parts deal with\nencouragements to confidence drawn, first, from our own experience\nin asking, and, second, with encouragements drawn from our own\nexperience in giving. In the former we learn from the man who will\nnot take 'no,' and so at last gets 'yes'; in the latter, from the\nFather who will certainly give His child what he asks.\n\nIn the parable two points are to be specially noted--the persistent\nsuppliant pleads not for himself so much as for the hungry\ntraveller, and the man addressed gives without any kindliness, from\nthe mere wish to be left at peace. As to both points, an _a\nfortiori_ argument is implied. If a man can so persevere when\npleading for another, how much more should we do so when asking for\nourselves! And if persistence has such power with selfish men, how\nmuch more shall it avail with Him who slumbers not nor sleeps, and\nto whom we can never come at an inopportune moment, and who will\ngive us because we are His friends, and He ours! The very ugliness\nof character ascribed to the owner of the loaves, selfish in his\nenjoyment of his bed, in his refusal to turn out on an errand of\nneighbourliness, and in his final giving, thus serves as a foil to\nthe character of Him to whom our prayers are addressed.\n\nThe application of the parable lies in verses 9 and 10. The efforts\nenjoined are in an ascending scale, and 'ask' and 'knock' allude to\nthe parable. To 'seek' is more than to ask, for it includes active\nexertion; and for want of seeking by conduct appropriate to our\nprayers, we often ask in vain. If we pray for temporal blessings,\nand then fold our hands, and sit with our mouths open for them to\ndrop into, we shall not get them. If we ask for higher goods, and\nrise from our knees to live worldly lives, we shall get them as\nlittle. Knocking is more than either, for it implies a continuous\nhammering on the door, like Peter's when he stood in the morning\ntwilight at Mary's gate. Asking and seeking must be continuous if\nthey are to be rewarded.\n\nVerse 10 grounds the promise of verse 9 on experience. It is he who\nasks that gets. In men's giving it is not universally true that\npetitions are answered, nor that gifts are not given unasked. Nor is\nit true about God's lower gifts, which are often bestowed on the\nunthankful, and not seldom refused to His children. But it is\nuniversally true in regard to His highest gifts, which are never\nwithheld from the earnest asker who adds to his prayers fitting\nconduct, and prays always without fainting, and which are not and\ncannot be given unless desire for them opens the heart for their\nreception, and faith in God assures him who prays that he cannot ask\nin vain.\n\nThe germ of a parable with its application (vs. 11-13) draws\nencouragement from our own experience in giving. It guards against\nmisconceptions of God which might arise from the former parable, and\ncomes back to the first word of the Lord's Prayer as itself the\nguarantee of every true desire of His child being heard and met.\nBread, eggs, and fish are staple articles of food. In each case\nsomething similar in appearance, but useless or hurtful, is\ncontrasted with the thing asked by the child. The round loaves of\nthe East are not unlike rounded, wave-washed stones, water-serpents\nare fishlike, and the oval body of a quiescent scorpion is similar\nto an egg. Fathers do not play tricks with their hungry children.\nThough we are all sinful, parental love survives, and makes a father\nwise enough to know what will nourish and what would poison his\nchild.\n\nAlas! that is only partially true, for many a parent has not a\nfather's heart, and is neither impelled by love to give good things\nto, nor to withhold evil ones from, his child. But it is true with\nsufficient frequency to warrant the great _a fortiori_ argument\nwhich Jesus bases on it. Our heavenly Father's love, the archetype\nof all parental affection, is tainted by no evil and darkened by no\nignorance. He loves perfectly and wisely, therefore He cannot but\ngive what His child needs.\n\nBut the child often mistakes, and thinks that stones are bread,\nserpents fish, and scorpions eggs. So God often has to deny the\nletter of our petitions, in order not to give us poison. Luke's\nversion of the closing promise, in which 'the Holy Spirit' stands\ninstead of Matthew's 'good things,' sets the whole matter in the\ntrue light; for that Spirit brings with Him all real good, and,\nwhile many of our desires have, for our own sakes, to be denied, we\nshall never hold up empty hands and have to let them fall still\nempty, if we desire that great encyclopediacal gift which our loving\nFather waits to bestow. It cannot be given without our petition, it\nwill never be withheld from our petition.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRAYING CHRIST\n\n\n    '... As He was praying in a certain place, when He\n    ceased, one of His disclples said unto Him, Lord,\n    teach us to pray.'--LUKE xi. 1.\n\nIt is noteworthy that we owe our knowledge of the prayers of Jesus\nprincipally to the Evangelist Luke. There is, indeed, one solemn\nhour of supplication under the quivering shadows of the olive-trees\nin Gethsemane which is recorded by Matthew and Mark as well; and\nthough the fourth Gospel passes over that agony of prayer, it gives\nus, in accordance with its ruling purpose, the great chapter that\nrecords His priestly intercession. But in addition to these\ninstances the first Gospel furnishes but one, and the second but\ntwo, references to the subject. All the others are found in Luke.\n\nI need not stay to point out how this fact tallies with the many\nother characteristics of the third Gospel, which mark it as\neminently the story of the Son of Man. The record which traces our\nLord's descent to Adam rather than to Abraham; which tells the story\nof His birth, and gives us all we know of the 'child Jesus'; which\nrecords His growth in wisdom and stature, and has preserved a\nmultitude of minute points bearing on His true manhood, as well as\non the tenderness of His sympathy and the universality of His work,\nmost naturally emphasises that most precious indication of His\nhumanity--His habitual prayerfulness. The Gospel of the King, which\nis the first Gospel, or of the Servant, which is the second, or of\nthe Son of God, which is the fourth, had less occasion to dwell on\nthis. Royalty, practical Obedience, Divinity, are their respective\nthemes. Manhood is Luke's, and he is ever pointing us to the\nkneeling Christ.\n\nConsider, then, for a moment, how precious the prayers of Jesus are,\nas bringing Him very near to us in His true manhood. There are deep\nand mysterious truths involved with which we do not meddle now. But\nthere are also plain and surface truths which are very helpful and\nblessed. We thank God for the story of His weariness when He sat on\nthe well, and of His slumber when, worn out with a hard day's work,\nHe slept on the hard wooden pillow in the stern of the fishing-boat\namong the nets and the litter. It brings Him near to us when we read\nthat He thirsted, and nearer still when the immortal words fall on\nour wondering ears, 'Jesus wept.' But even more precious than these\nindications of His true participation in physical needs and human\nemotion, is the great evidence of His prayers, that He too lived a\nlife of dependence, of communion, and of submission; that in our\nreligious life, as in all our life, He is our pattern and\nforerunner. As the Epistle to the Hebrews puts it, He shows that He\nis not ashamed to call us brethren by this, that He too avows that\nHe lives by faith; and by His life--and surely pre-eminently by His\nprayers--declares, I will put my trust in Him.' We cannot think of\nChrist too often or too absolutely as the object of faith; and as\nthe hearer of our cries; but we may, and some of us do, think of Him\ntoo seldom as the pattern of faith, and as the example for our\ndevotion. We should feel Him a great deal nearer us; and the fact of\nHis manhood would not only be grasped more clearly by orthodox\nbelievers, but would be felt in more of its true tenderness, if we\ngave more prominence in our thoughts to that picture of the praying\nChrist.\n\nAnother point that may be suggested is, that the highest, holiest\nlife needs specific acts and times of prayer. A certain fantastical\nand overstrained spirituality is not rare, which professes to have\ngot beyond the need of such beggarly elements. Some tinge of this\ncolours the habits of many people who are scarcely conscious of its\npresence, and makes them somewhat careless as to forms and times of\npublic or of that of private worship. I do not think that I am wrong\nin saying that there is a growing laxity in that matter among people\nwho are really trying to live Christian lives. We may well take the\nlesson which Christ's prayers teach us, for we all need it, that no\nlife is so high, so holy, so full of habitual communion with God,\nthat it can afford to do without the hour of prayer, the secret\nplace, the uttered word. If we are to 'pray without ceasing,' by the\nconstant attitude of communion and the constant conversion of work\ninto worship, we must certainly have, and we shall undoubtedly\ndesire, special moments when the daily sacrifice of doing good\npasses into the sacrifice of our lips. The devotion which is to be\ndiffused through our lives must be first concentrated and evolved in\nour prayers. These are the gathering-grounds which feed the river.\nThe life that was all one long prayer needed the mountain-top and\nthe nightly converse with God. He who could say, 'The Father hath\nnot left Me alone, for I do always the things that please Him,' felt\nthat He must also have the special communion of spoken prayer. What\nChrist needed we cannot afford to neglect.\n\nThus Christ's own prayers do, in a very real sense, 'teach us to\npray.' But it strikes me that, if we will take the instances in\nwhich we find Him praying, and try to classify them in a rough way,\nwe may gain some hints worth laying to heart. Let me attempt this\nbriefly now.\n\nFirst, then, the praying Christ teaches us to pray as a rest after\nservice.\n\nThe Evangelist Mark gives us, in his brief, vivid way, a wonderful\npicture in his first chapter of Christ's first Sabbath-day of\nministry in Capernaum. It was crowded with work. The narrative goes\nhurrying on through the busy hours, marking the press of rapidly\nsucceeding calls by its constant reiteration--'straightway,'\n'immediately,' 'forthwith,' 'anon,' 'immediately.' He teaches in the\nsynagogue; without breath or pause He heals a man with an unclean\nspirit; then at once passes to Simon's house, and as soon as He\nenters has to listen to the story of how the wife's mother lay sick\nof a fever. They might have let Him rest for a moment, but they are\ntoo eager, and He is too pitying, for delay. As soon as He hears, He\nhelps. As soon as He bids it, the fever departs. As soon as she is\nhealed, the woman is serving them. There can have been but a short\nsnatch of such rest as such a house could afford. Then when the\nshadows of the western hills began to fall upon the blue waters of\nthe lake, and the sunset ended the restrictions of the Sabbath, He\nis besieged by a crowd full of sorrow and sickness, and all about\nthe door they lie, waiting for its opening. He could not keep it\nshut any more than His heart or His hand, and so all through the\nshort twilight, and deep into the night, He toils amongst the dim,\nprostrate forms. What a day it had been of hard toil, as well as of\nexhausting sympathy! And what was His refreshment?  An hour or two\nof slumber; and then, 'in the morning, rising up a great while\nbefore day, He went out, and departed into a solitary place, and\nthere prayed' (Mark i. 35).\n\nIn the same way we find Him seeking the same repose after another\nperiod of much exertion and strain on body and mind. He had\nwithdrawn Himself and His disciples from the bustle which Mark\ndescribes so graphically. 'There were many coming and going, and\nthey had no leisure, so much as to eat.' So, seeking quiet, He takes\nthem across the lake into the solitudes on the other side. But the\ncrowds from all the villages near its head catch sight of the boat in\ncrossing, and hurry round; and there they all are at the landing-place,\neager and exacting as ever. He throws aside the purpose of rest, and\nall day long, wearied as He was, 'taught them many things.' The closing\nday brings no respite. He thinks of their hunger, before His own\nfatigue, and will not send them away fasting. So He ends that day of\nlabour by the miracle of feeding the five thousand. The crowds gone to\ntheir homes, He can at last think of Himself; and what is His rest? He\nloses not a moment in  'constraining' His disciples to go away to the\nother side, as if in haste to remove the last hindrance to something\nthat He had been longing to get to. 'And when He had sent them\naway, He departed into a mountain to pray' (Mark vi. 46; Matt. xiv. 23).\n\nThat was Christ's refreshment after His toil. So He blended\ncontemplation and service, the life of inward communion and the life\nof practical obedience. How much more do we need to interpose the\nsoothing and invigorating influences of quiet communion between\nthe acts of external work, since our work may harm us, as His never\ndid Him. It may disturb and dissipate our communion with God; it may\nweaken the very motive from which it should arise; it may withdraw\nour gaze from God and fix it upon ourselves. It may puff us up with\nthe conceit of our own powers; it may fret us with the annoyances of\nresistance; it may depress us with the consciousness of failure; and\nin a hundred other ways may waste and wear away our personal\nreligion. The more we work the more we need to pray. In this day of\nactivity there is great danger, not of doing too much, but of\npraying too little for so much work. These two--work and prayer,\naction and contemplation--are twin-sisters. Each pines without the\nother. We are ever tempted to cultivate one or the other\ndisproportionately. Let us imitate Him who sought the mountain-top\nas His refreshment after toil, but never left duties undone or\nsufferers unrelieved in pain. Let us imitate Him who turned from the\njoys of contemplation to the joys of service without a murmur, when\nHis disciples broke in on His solitude with, 'all men seek Thee,'\nbut never suffered the outward work to blunt His desire for, nor to\nencroach on the hour of, still communion with His Father. Lord,\nteach us to work; Lord, teach us to pray.\n\nThe praying Christ teaches us to pray as a preparation for important\nsteps.\n\nWhilst more than one Gospel tells us of the calling of the Apostolic\nTwelve, the Gospel of the manhood alone narrates (Luke vi. 12) that\non the eve of that great epoch in the development of Christ's\nkingdom, 'He went out into a mountain to pray, and continued all\nnight in prayer to God.' Then, 'when it was day,' He calls to Him\nHis disciples, and chooses the Twelve.\n\nA similar instance occurs, at a later period, before another great\nepoch in His course. The great confession made by Peter, 'Thou art\nthe Christ, the Son of the living God,' was drawn forth by our Lord\nto serve as basis for His bestowment on the Apostles of large\nspiritual powers, and for the teaching, with much increased detail\nand clearness, of His approaching sufferings. In both aspects it\ndistinctly marks a new stage. Concerning it, too, we read, and again\nin Luke alone (ix. 18), that it was preceded by solitary prayer.\n\nThus He teaches us where and how we may get the clear insight into\ncircumstances and men that may guide us aright. Bring your plans, your\npurposes to God's throne. Test them by praying about them. Do nothing\nlarge or new--nothing small or old either, for that matter--till you\nhave asked there, in the silence of the secret place, 'Lord, what\nwouldest Thou have me to do?' There is nothing bitterer to parents\nthan when children begin to take their own way without consulting them.\nDo you take counsel of your Father, and have no secrets from Him. It\nwill save you from many a blunder and many a heartache; it will make\nyour judgment clear, and your step assured, even in new and difficult\nways, if you will learn from the praying Christ to pray before you\nplan, and take counsel of God before you act.\n\nAgain, the praying Christ teaches us to pray as the condition of\nreceiving the Spirit and the brightness of God.\n\nThere were two occasions in the life of Christ when visible signs\nshowed His full possession of the Divine Spirit, and the lustre of\nHis glorious nature. There are large and perplexing questions\nconnected with both, on which I have no need to enter. At His\nbaptism the Spirit of God descended visibly and abode on Jesus. At\nHis transfiguration His face shone as the light, and His garments\nwere radiant as sunlit snow. Now on both these occasions our Gospel,\nand our Gospel alone, tells us that it was whilst Christ was in the\nact of prayer that the sign was given: 'Jesus being baptized, and\npraying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Ghost descended' (iii.\n21, 22). 'As He prayed, the fashion of His countenance was altered,\nand His raiment was white and glistening' (ix. 29).\n\nWhatever difficulty may surround the first of these narratives\nespecially, one thing is clear, that in both of them there was a\ntrue communication from the Father to the man Jesus. And another\nthing is, I think, clear too, that our Evangelist meant to lay\nstress on the preceding act as the human condition of such\ncommunication. So if we would have the heavens opened over our\nheads, and the dove of God descending to fold its white wings, and\nbrood over the chaos of our hearts till order and light come there,\nwe must do what the Son of Man did--pray. And if we would have the\nfashion of our countenances altered, the wrinkles of care wiped out,\nthe traces of tears dried up, the blotches of unclean living healed,\nand all the brands of worldliness and evil exchanged for the name of\nGod written on our foreheads, and the reflected glory irradiating\nour faces, we must do as Christ did--pray. So, and only so, will\nGod's Spirit fill our hearts, God's brightness flash in our faces,\nand the vesture of heaven clothe our nakedness.\n\nAgain, the praying Christ teaches us to pray as the preparation for\nsorrow. Here all the three Evangelists tell us the same sweet and\nsolemn story. It is not for us to penetrate further than they carry\nus into the sanctities of Gethsemane. Jesus, though hungering for\ncompanionship in that awful hour, would take no man with Him there;\nand He still says, 'Tarry ye here, while I go and pray yonder.' But\nas we stand afar off, we catch the voice of pleading rising through\nthe stillness of the night, and the solemn words tell us of a Son's\nconfidence, of a man's shrinking, of a Saviour's submission. The\nvery spirit of all prayer is in these broken words. That was truly\n'The Lord's Prayer' which He poured out beneath the olives in the\nmoonlight. It was heard when strength came from heaven, which He\nused in 'praying more earnestly.' It was heard when, the agony past\nand all the conflict ended in victory, He came forth, with that\nstrange calm and dignity, to give Himself first to His captors and\nthen to His executioners, the ransom for the many.\n\nAs we look upon that agony and these tearful prayers, let us not\nonly look with thankfulness, but let that kneeling Saviour teach us\nthat in prayer alone can we be forearmed against our lesser sorrows;\nthat strength to bear flows into the heart that is opened in\nsupplication; and that a sorrow which we are made able to endure is\nmore truly conquered than a sorrow which we avoid. We have all a\ncross to carry and a wreath of thorns to wear. If we want to be fit\nfor our Calvary--may we use that solemn name?--we must go to our\nGethsemane first.\n\nSo the Christ who prayed on earth teaches us to pray; and the Christ\nwho intercedes in heaven helps us to pray, and presents our poor\ncries, acceptable through His sacrifice, and fragrant with the\nincense from His own golden censer.\n\n  'O Thou by whom we come to God,\n  The Life, the Truth, the Way;\n  The path of prayer Thyself hast trod;\n  Lord! teach us how to pray.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE RICH FOOL\n\n\n    'And one of the company said unto Him, Master, speak\n    to my brother, that he divide the inheritance with me.\n    14. And He said unto him, Man, who made Me a judge or\n    a divider over you? 15. And He said unto them, Take\n    heed, and beware of covetousness: for a man's life\n    consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he\n    possesseth. 16. And He spake a parable unto them,\n    saying, The ground of a certain rich man brought forth\n    plentifully: 17. And he thought within himself, saying,\n    What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow\n    my fruits! 18. And he said, This will I do: I will pull\n    down my barns, and build greater; and there will I\n    bestow all my fruits and my goods. 19. And I will say\n    to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many\n    years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry.\n    20. But God said unto him, Thou fool, this night thy\n    soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those\n    things be, which thou hast provided! 21. So is he that\n    layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward\n    God. 22. And He said unto his disciples, Therefore I\n    say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye\n    shall eat; neither for the body, what ye shall put on.\n    23. The life is more than meat, and the body is more\n    than raiment'--LUKE xii. 13-23.\n\nWhat a gulf between the thoughts of Jesus and those of this\nunmannerly interrupter! Our Lord had been speaking solemnly as to\nconfessing Him before men, the divine help to be given, and the\nblessed reward to follow, and this hearer had all the while been\nthinking only of the share in his father's inheritance, out of\nwhich he considered that his brother had cheated him. Such\nindifference must have struck a chill into Christ's heart, and how\nkeenly he felt it is traceable in the curt and stern brushing aside\nof the man's request. The very form of addressing him puts him at a\ndistance. 'Man' is about as frigid as can be. Our Lord knew the\ndiscouragement of seeing that His words never came near some of His\nhearers, and had no power to turn their thoughts even for a minute\nfrom low objects. 'What do I care about being confessed before the\nangels, or about the Holy Spirit to teach me? What I want is my\nshare of the paternal acres. A rabbi who will help me to these is\nthe rabbi for me.' John Bunyan's 'man with the muck-rake' had his\neyes so glued to the ground and the muck that he did not see the\ncrown hanging above him. How many of us find the sermon time a good\nopportunity for thinking about investments and business!\n\nChrist's answer is intentionally abrupt and short. It deals with\npart only of the man's error, the rest of which, being an error to\nwhich we are all exposed, and which was the root of the part special\nto him, is dealt with in the parable that follows. Because the man\nwas covetous, he could see in Jesus nothing more than a rabbi who\nmight influence his brother. Our sense of want largely shapes our\nconception of Christ. Many to-day see in Him mainly a social (and\neconomical) reformer, because our notion of what we and the world\nneed most is something to set social conditions right, and so to\nsecure earthly well-being. They who take Jesus to be first and\nforemost 'a judge or a divider' fail to see His deepest work or\ntheir own deepest need. He will be all that they wish Him to be, if\nthey will take Him for something else first. He will 'bid' men\n'divide the inheritance' with their brethren after men have gone to\nHim for salvation.\n\nBut covetousness, or the greedy clutching at more and more of\nearthly good, has its roots in us all, and unless there is the most\nassiduous weeding, it will overrun our whole nature. So Jesus puts\ngreat emphasis into the command, 'Take heed, and keep yourselves,'\nwhich implies that without much 'heed' and diligent inspection of\nourselves (for the original word is 'see'), there will be no\nguarding against the subtle entrance and swift growth of the vice.\nWe may be enslaved by it, and never suspect that we are. Further,\nthe correct reading is 'from _all_ covetousness,' for it has\nmany shapes, besides the grossest one of greed for money. The reason\nfor the exhortation is somewhat obscure in construction, but plain\nin its general meaning, and sufficiently represented by the\nAuthorised and Revised Versions. The Revised Version margin gives\nthe literal translation, 'Not in a man's abundance consisteth his\nlife, from the things which he possesseth,' on which we may note\nthat the second clause is obviously to be completed from the first,\nand that the difference between the two seems to lie mainly in the\ndifference of prepositions, 'from' or 'out of in the second clause\nstanding instead of 'in' in the first, while there may be also a\ndistinction between 'abundance' and 'possessions' the former being a\nsuperfluous amount of the latter. The whole will then mean that life\ndoes not _consist in_ possessions, however abundant, nor does\nit _come out of_ anything that simply belongs to us in outward\nfashion. Not what we possess, but what we are, is the important\nmatter.\n\nBut what does 'life' mean? The parable shows that we cannot leave\nout the notion of physical life. No possessions keep a man alive.\nDeath knocks at palaces and poor men's hovels. Millionaires and\npaupers are huddled together in his net. But we must not leave out\nthe higher meaning of life, for it is eminently true that the real\nlife of a man has little relation to what he possesses. Neither\nnobleness nor peace nor satisfaction, nor anything in which man\nlives a nobler life than a dog, has much dependence on property of\nany sort. Wealth often chokes the channels by which true life would\nflow into us. 'We live by admiration, hope, and love,' and these may\nbe ours abundantly, whatever our portion of earth's riches.\nCovetousness is folly, because it grasps at worldly good, under the\nfalse belief that thereby it will secure the true good of life, but\nwhen it has made its pile, it finds that it is no nearer peace of\nheart, rest, nobleness, or joy than before, and has probably lost\nmuch of both in the process of making it. The mad race after wealth,\nwhich is the sin of this luxurious, greedy, commercial age, is the\nconsequence of a lie--that life does consist in the abundance of\npossessions. It consists in knowing 'Thee the only true God, and\nJesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent.' Is there any saying of Jesus\nChrist's more revolutionary, or less believed by His professed\nfollowers, than this?\n\nThe story of the rich fool is not a parable in the narrower meaning\nof that word--that is, a description of some event or thing in the\nnatural sphere, transferred by analogy to the spiritual--but an\nimaginary narrative exemplifying in a concrete instance the\ncharacteristics of the class of covetous men. The first point noted\nis that accumulated wealth breeds anxiety rather than satisfaction.\nThe man is embarrassed by his abundance. The trouble of knowing how\nto keep it is as great as the labour of acquiring it, and the\nenjoyment of it is still in the future. Many a rich man is more\nworried about his securities than he was in making his money. There\nare so many 'bags with holes' that he is at his wits' end for\ninvestments, and the first thing he looks at in his morning's paper\nis the share list, the sight of which often spoils his breakfast.\n\nThe next point is the selfish and arrogant sense of possession, as\nbetrayed by the repetition of 'my'--my fruits, my barns, my corn,\nand my goods. He has no thought of God, nor of his own stewardship.\nHe recognises no claim on his wealth. If he had looked a little\nbeyond himself, he would have seen many places where he could have\nbestowed his fruits. Were there no poor at his gates? He had better\nhave poured some riches into the laps of these than have built a new\nbarn. Corn laid up would breed weevils; dispersed, it would bring\nblessings.\n\nAgain, this type of covetous men is a fool because he reckons on\n'many years.' The goods may last, but will he? He can make sure that\nthey will suffice for a long time, but he cannot make sure of the\nlong time. Again, he blunders tragically in his estimate of the\npower of worldly goods to satisfy. 'Eat, drink,' might be said to\nhis body, but to say it to his soul, and to fancy that these\npleasures of sense would put it at ease, is the fatal error which\ngnaws like a worm at the root of every worldly life. The word here\nrendered 'take thine ease' is cognate with Christ's in His great\npromise, 'Ye shall find rest unto your souls.' Not in abundance of\nworldly goods, but in union with Him, is that rest to be found which\nthe covetous man vainly promises himself in filled barns and\nluxurious idleness.\n\nThere is a grim contrast between what the rich man said and what God\nsaid. The man's words were empty breath; God's are powers, and what\nHe says is a deed. The divine decree comes crashing into the\nabortive human plans like a thunder-clap into a wood full of singing\nbirds, and they are all stricken silent. So little does life consist\nin possessions that all the abundance cannot keep the breath in a\nman for one moment. His life is 'required of him,' not only in the\nsense that he has to give it up, but also inasmuch as he has to\nanswer for it. In that requirement the selfishly used wealth will be\n'a swift witness against' him, and  instead of ministering to life\nor ease, will 'eat his flesh as fire.' Molten gold dropping on flesh\nburns badly. Wealth, trusted in and selfishly clutched, without\nrecognition of God the giver or of others' claims to share it, will\nburn still worse.\n\nThe 'parable' is declared to be of universal application. Examples\nof it are found wherever there are men who selfishly lay up\ntreasures for their own delectation, and 'are not rich toward God.'\nThat expression is best understood in this connection to mean, not\nrich in spiritual wealth, but in worldly goods used with reference\nto God, or for His glory and service. So understood, the two\nphrases, laying up treasure for oneself and being rich towards God,\nare in full antithesis.\n\n\n\n\nANXIOUS ABOUT EARTH, OR EARNEST ABOUT THE KINGDOM\n\n\n    'And He said unto His disciples, Therefore I say unto\n    you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat;\n    neither for the body, what ye shall put on. 23. The\n    life is more than meat, and the body is more than\n    raiment. 24. Consider the ravens: for they neither sow\n    nor reap; which neither have storehouse nor barn; and\n    God feedeth them: how much more are ye better than the\n    fowls? 25. And which of you with taking thought can\n    add to his stature one cubit? 26. If ye then be not\n    able to do that thing which is least, why take ye\n    thought for the rest? 27. Consider the lilies how they\n    grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto\n    you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed\n    like one of these. 28. If then God so clothe the grass,\n    which is to-day in the field, and to-morrow is cast\n    into the oven; how much more will He clothe you, O ye\n    of little faith! 29. And seek not ye what ye shall eat,\n    or what ye shall drink, neither be ye of doubtful mind.\n    30. For all these things do the nations of the world\n    seek after: and your Father knoweth that ye have need\n    of these things. 31. But rather seek ye the kingdom of\n    God; and all these things shall he added unto you.'\n    --LUKE xii. 22-31.\n\nThe parable of the rich fool was spoken to the multitude, but our\nLord now addresses the disciples. 'Therefore' connects the following\nwith the foregoing teachings. The warnings against anxiety are\nanother application of the prohibition of laying up treasure for\nself. Torturing care is the poor man's form of worldliness, as\nluxurious self-indulgence is the rich man's. There are two kinds of\ngout, as doctors tell us--one from high living, and one from poverty\nof blood. This passage falls into two parts--the prohibition against\nanxious care (vs. 22-31), and the exhortation to set the affections\non the true treasure (vs. 31-34).\n\nI. The first part gives the condemnation of anxiety about earthly\nnecessities. The precept is first stated generally, and then\nfollowed by a series of reasons enforcing it. As to the precept, we\nmay remark that the disciples were mostly poor men, who might think\nthat they were in no danger of the folly branded in the parable.\nThey had no barns bursting with plenty, and their concern was how to\nfind food and clothing, not what to do with superfluities. Christ\nwould have them see that the same temper may be in them, though it\ntakes a different shape. Dives and Lazarus may be precisely alike.\n\nThe temper condemned here is 'self-consuming care,' the opposite of\ntrust. Its misery is forcibly expressed by the original meaning of\nthe Greek word, which implies being torn in pieces, and thus paints\nthe distraction and self-inflicted harrassment which are the lot of\nthe anxious mind. Prudent foresight and strenuous work are equally\noutside this prohibition. Anxiety is so little akin to foresight\nthat it disables from exercising it, and both hinders from seeing\nwhat to do to provide daily bread, and from doing it.\n\nThe disciples' danger of being thus anxious may be measured by the\nnumber and variety of reasons against it given by Jesus. The first\nof these is that such anxiety does not go deep enough, and forgets\nhow we come to have lives to be fed and bodies to be clothed. We\nhave received the greater, life and body, without our anxiety. The\nrich fool could keep his goods, but not his 'soul' or 'life.' How\nsuperficial, then, after all, our anxieties are, when God may end\nlife at any moment! Further, since the greater is given, the less\nwhich it needs will also be given. The thought of God as 'a faithful\ncreator' is implied. We must trust Him for the 'more'; we may trust\nHim for the less.\n\nThe second reason bids us look with attention at examples of\nunanxious lives abundantly fed. Perhaps Elijah's feathered\nproviders, or the words of the Psalmist (Ps. cxlvii. 9), were in\nChrist's mind. The raven was one of the 'unclean' birds, and of ill\nomen,  from Noah's days, and yet had its meat in due season, though\nthat meat was corpses. Notice the allusions to the preceding parable\nin 'sow not, neither reap,' and in 'neither have storehouse nor\nbarn.' In these particulars the birds are inferior to us, and, so to\nspeak, the harder to care for. If they who neither work nor store\nstill get their living, shall not we, who can do both? Our superior\nvalue is in part expressed by the capacity to sow and reap; and\nthese are more wholesome occupations for a man than worrying.\n\nHow lovingly Jesus looked on all creatures, and how clearly He saw\neverywhere God's hand at work! As Luther said, 'God spends every\nyear in feeding sparrows more than the revenues of the King of\nFrance.'\n\nThe third reason is the impotence of anxiety (ver. 25). It is\ndifficult to decide between the two possible renderings here. That\nof 'a cubit' to the 'stature' corresponds best with the growth of\nthe lilies, while 'age' preserves an allusion to the rich fool, and\navoids treating the addition of a foot and a half to an ordinary\nman's height as a small thing. But age is not measured by cubits,\nand it is best to keep to 'stature.'\n\nAt first sight, the argument of verse 23 seems to be now inverted,\nand what was 'more' to be now 'least.' But the supposed addition, if\npossible, would be of the smallest importance as regards ensuring\nfood or clothing, and measured by the divine power required to\neffect it, is less than the continual providing which God does. That\nsmaller work of His, no anxiety will enable us to do. How much less\ncan we effect the complicated and wide-reaching arrangements needed\nto feed and clothe ourselves! Anxiety is impotent. It only works on\nour own minds, racking them in vain, but has no effect on the\nmaterial world, not even on our own bodies, still less on the\nuniverse.\n\nThe fourth reason bids us look with attention at examples of\nunanxious existence clothed with beauty. Christ here teaches the\nhighest use of nature, and the noblest way of looking at it. The\nscientific botanist considers how the lilies grow, and can tell all\nabout cells and chlorophyll and the like. The poet is in raptures\nwith their beauty. Both teach us much, but the religious way of\nlooking at nature includes and transcends both the others. Nature is\na parable. It is a visible manifestation of God, and His ways there\nshadow His ways with us, and are lessons in trust.\n\nThe glorious colours of the lily come from no dyer's vats, nor the\nmarvellous texture of their petals from any loom. They are inferior\nto us in that they do not toil or spin, and in their short\nblossoming time. Man's 'days are as grass; as a flower of the field\nso he flourisheth'; but his date is longer, and therefore he has a\nlarger claim on God. 'God clothes the grass of the field' is a truth\nquite independent of scientific truths or hypotheses about how He\ndoes it. If the colours of flowers depend on the visits of insects,\nGod established the dependence, and is the real cause of the\nresulting loveliness.\n\nThe most modern theories of the evolutionist do not in the least\ndiminish the force of Christ's appeal to creation's witness to a\nloving Care in the heavens. But that appeal teaches us that we miss\nthe best and plainest lesson of nature, unless we see God present\nand working in it all, and are thereby heartened to trust quietly in\nHis care for us, who are better than the ravens because we have to\nsow and reap, or than the lilies because we must toil and spin.\n\nVerse 29 adds to the reference to clothing a repeated prohibition as\nto the other half of our anxieties, and thus rounds off the whole\nwith the same double warning as in verse 22. But it gives a striking\nmetaphor in the new command against 'being of doubtful mind.' The\nword so rendered means to be lifted on high, and thence to be tossed\nfrom height to depth, as a ship in a storm. So it paints the\nwretchedness of anxiety as ever shuttlecocked about between hopes\nand fears, sometimes up on the crest of a vain dream of good,\nsometimes down in the trough of an imaginary evil. We are sure to be\nthus the sport of our own fancies, unless we have our minds fixed on\nGod in quiet trust, and therefore stable and restful.\n\nVerse 30 gives yet another reason against not only anxiety, but\nagainst that eager desire after outward things which is the parent\nof anxiety. If we 'seek after' them, we shall not be able to avoid\nbeing anxious and of doubtful mind. Such seeking, says Christ, is\npure heathenism. The nations of the world who know not God make\nthese their chief good, and securing them the aim of their lives. If\nwe do the like, we drop to their level. What is the difference\nbetween a heathen and a Christian, if the Christian has the same\nobjects and treasures as the heathen? That is a question which a\ngood many so-called Christians at present would find it hard to\nanswer.\n\nBut the crowning reason of all is kept for the last. Much of what\nprecedes might be spoken by a man who had but the coldest belief in\nProvidence. But the great and blessed faith in our Father, God,\nscatters all anxious care. How should we be anxious if we know that\nwe have a Father in heaven, and that He knows our needs? He\nrecognises our claims on Him. He made the needs, and will send the\nsupply. That is a wide truth, stretching far beyond the mere earthly\nwants of food and raiment. My wants, so far as God has made me to\nfeel them, are prophecies of God's gifts. He has made them as doors\nby which He will come in and bless me. How, then, can anxious care\nfret the heart which feels the Father's presence, and knows that its\nemptiness is the occasion for the gift of a divine fullness? Trust\nis the only reasonable temper for a child of such a father. Anxious\ncare is a denial of His love or knowledge or power.\n\nII. Verses 31-34 point out the true direction of effort and\naffection, and the true way of using outward good so as to secure\nthe higher riches. It is useless to tell men not to set their\nlongings or efforts on worldly things unless you tell them of\nsomething better. Life must have some aim, and the mind must turn to\nsomething as supremely good. The only way to drive out heathenish\nseeking after perishable good is to fill the heart with the love and\nlonging for eternal and spiritual good. The ejected demon comes back\nwith a troop at his heels unless his house be filled. To seek 'the\nkingdom,' to count it our highest good to have our wills and whole\nbeing bowed in submission to the loving will of God, to labour after\nentire conformity to it, to postpone all earthly delights to that,\nand to count them all but loss if we may win it--this is the true\nway to conquer worldly anxieties, and is the only course of life\nwhich will not at last earn the stern judgment, 'Thou fool.'\n\nThat direction of all our desires and energies to the attainment of\nthe kingdom which is the state of being ruled by the will of God, is\nto be accompanied with joyous, brave confidence. How should they\nfear whose desires and efforts run parallel with the 'Father's good\npleasure'? They are seeking as their chief good what He desires, as\nHis chief delight, to give them. Then they may be sure that, if He\ngives that, He will not withhold less gifts than may be needed. He\nwill not 'spoil the ship for a ha'p'orth of tar,' nor allow His\nchildren, whom He has made heirs of a kingdom, to starve on their\nroad to their crown. If they can trust Him to give them the kingdom,\nthey may surely trust Him for bread and clothes.\n\nMark, too, the tenderness of that 'little flock.' They might fear\nwhen they contrasted their numbers with the crowds of worldly men;\nbut, being a flock, they have a shepherd, and that is enough to\nquiet anxiety.\n\nSeeking and courage are to be crowned by surrender of outward good\nand the use of earthly wealth in such manner as that it will secure\nan unfailing treasure in heaven. The manner of obeying this command\nvaries with circumstances. For some the literal fulfilment is best;\nand there are more Christian men to-day whose souls would be\ndelivered from the snares if they would part with their possessions\nthan we are willing to believe.\n\nSometimes the surrender is rather to be effected by the conscientious\nconsecration and prayerful use of wealth. That is for each man to\nsettle for himself. But what is not variable is the obligation to set\nthe kingdom high above all else, and to use all outward wealth, as\nChrist's servants, not for luxury and self-gratification, but as in\nHis sight and for His glory. Let us not be afraid of believing what\nJesus and His Apostles plainly teach, that wealth so spent here is\ntreasured in heaven, and that a Christian's place in the future life\ndepends upon this among other conditions--how he used his money here.\n\n\n\n\nSTILLNESS IN STORM\n\n    '... Neither be ye of doubtful mind.'--LUKE xii. 29.\n\nI think that these words convey no very definite idea to most\nreaders. The thing forbidden is not very sharply defined by the\nexpression which our translators have employed, but the original\nterm is very picturesque and precise.\n\nThe word originally means 'to be elevated, to be raised as a\nmeteor,' and comes by degrees to mean to be raised in one special\nway--namely, as a boat is tossed by a tough sea. So there is a\npicture in this prohibition which the fishermen and folk dwelling by\nthe Sea of Galilee with its sudden squalls would understand: 'Be\nnot pitched about'; now on the crest, now in the trough of the wave.\n\nThe meaning, then, is substantially identical with that of the\nprevious words, 'Take no thought for your life,' with this\ndifference, that the figures by which the thing prohibited is\nexpressed are different, and that the latter saying is wider than\nthe former.\n\nThe former prohibits 'taking thought,' by which our Lord of course\nmeans not reasonable foresight, but anxious foreboding. And the word\nwhich He uses, meaning at bottom as it does, 'to be distracted or\nrent asunder,' conveys a striking picture of the wretched state to\nwhich such anxiety brings a man. Nothing tears us to pieces like\nforeboding care. Then our text forbids the same anxiety, as well as\nother fluctuations of feeling that come from setting our hopes and\nhearts on aught which can change; and its figurative representation\nof the misery that follows on fastening ourselves to the perishable,\nis that of the poor little skiff, at one moment high on the crest of\nthe billow, at the next down in the trough of the sea.\n\nSo both images point to the unrest of worldliness, and while the\nunrest of care is uppermost in the one, the other includes more than\nsimply care, and warns us that all occupation with simply creatural\nthings, all eager seeking after 'what ye shall eat or what ye shall\ndrink' or after more refined forms of earthly good, brings with it\nthe penalty and misery of 'for ever tossing  on the tossing wave.'\nWhosoever launches out on to that sea is sure to be buffeted about.\nWhoso sets his heart on the uncertainty of anything below the\nchangeless God will without doubt be driven from hope to fear, from\njoy to sorrow, and his soul will be agitated as his idols change,\nand his heart will be desolate when his idols perish.\n\nOur Lord, we say, forbids our being thus tossed about. He seems to\nbelieve that it is in our own power to settle whether we shall be or\nno. That sounds strange; one can fancy the answer: 'What is the use\nof telling a man not to be buffeted about by storm? Why, he cannot\nhelp it. If the sea is running high the little boat cannot lie quiet\nas if in smooth water. Do not talk to me about not being moved,\nunless you can say to the tumbling sea of life, \"Peace, be still!\"\nand make it\n\n  \"quite forget to rave,\n   While birds of peace sit brooding on the charmed wave.\"'\n\nThe objection is sound after a fashion. Change there must be, and\nfluctuation of feeling. But there is such a thing as 'peace\nsubsisting at the heart of endless agitation.' You may remember the\nattempt that was made some years ago to build a steamer in which\nthe central saloon was to hang perfectly still while the outer hull\nof the ship pitched and rolled with the moving sea. It was a\nfailure, but the theory was sound and looked practicable. At any\nrate, it is a parable of what may be in our lives. If I might\nventure, without seeming irreverence, to modernise and so to\nillustrate this command of our Lord's, I would say, that He here\nbids us do for our life's voyage across a stormy sea, exactly what\nthe 'Bessemer' ship was an attempt to do in its region--so to poise\nand control the oscillations of the central soul that however the\noutward life may be buffeted about, there may be moveless rest\nwithin. He knows full well that we must have rough weather, but He\nwould have us counteract the motion of the sea, and keep our hearts\nin stillness. 'In the world ye shall have tribulation,' but in Him\nye may have peace.\n\nHe does not wish us to be blind to the facts of life, but to take\n_all_ the facts into our vision. A partial view of the so-called\nfacts certainly will lead to tumultuous alternations of hope and\nfear, of joy and sorrow. But if you will take them all into account,\nyou can be quiet and at rest. For here is a fact as real as the\ntroubles and changes of life: 'Your Father knoweth that ye have\nneed of these things.' Ah! the recognition of that will keep our\ninmost hearts full of sweet peace, whatever may befall the outward\nlife. Only take all the facts of your condition, and accept Christ's\nword for that greatest and surest of all--the loving Father's\nknowledge of your needs, and it will not be hard to obey Christ's\ncommand, and keep yourself still, because fixed on Him.\n\nBut now consider the teachings here as to the true source of the\nagitation which our Lord forbids. The precept itself affords no\nlight on that subject, but the context shows us the true origin of\nthe evil.\n\nThe first point to observe is how remarkably our Lord identifies\nthis anxiety and restlessness which He forbids with what at first\nsight seems its exact opposite, namely a calmness and peace which he\nalso condemns as wholly bad. The whole series of warnings of which\nour text is part begins with the story of the rich man whose ground\nbrought forth plentifully. His fault was not that he was tossed\nabout with care and a doubtful mind, but the very opposite. His sin\nwas in saying, 'Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years;\ntake thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry.'\n\nNotice, then, that our Lord begins by pointing out the great madness\nand the great sin of being thus at rest, and trusting in earthly\npossessions: and then with a 'Therefore, I say unto you,' He turns\nto the opposite pole of worldly feeling, and shows us how, although\nopposite, it is yet related. The warning, 'Take no thought for your\nlife' follows as an inference from the picture of the folly of the\nman that lays up treasure for himself and is not rich towards God.\n\nThat is to say, the two faults are kindred and in some sense the\nsame. The rich fool stretching himself out to rest on the pile of\nhis possessions, and the poor fool tossing about on the billows of\nunquiet thought, are at bottom under the influence of the same\nfolly, though their circumstances are opposite, and their moods seem\nto be so too.\n\nThe one man is just the other turned inside out. When he is rich and\nhas got plenty of outward goods, he has no anxiety, because he\nthinks that they are supreme and all-sufficient. When he is poor and\nhas not got enough of them, he has no rest, because he thinks that\nthey are supreme and all-sufficient. Anxious care and satisfied\npossession are at bottom the very same thing. The man who says, 'My\nmountain stands strong,' because he has got a quantity of money or\nthe like; and the man who says, 'Oh, dear me, what is going to\nbecome of me?' because he thinks he has not got enough, only need to\nexchange circumstances and they will exchange cries.\n\nThe same figure is concave or convex according to the side from\nwhich you look at it. From one it swells out into rounded fullness;\nfrom the other it gapes as in empty hungriness. So the rich fool of\nthe preceding parable and the anxious, troubled man of my text are\nthe same man looked at from opposite sides or set in opposite\ncircumstances. The root of both the rest of the one and of the\nanxiety of the other is the over-estimate of outward good.\n\nThen, still further, notice how our Lord here brands this forbidden\nfluctuation of feeling as being at bottom pure heathenism. Most\nsignificant double reasons for our text follow it, introduced by a\ndouble 'for.' The first reason is, 'For all these things do the\nnations of the world seek after'; the second is, 'For your Father\nknoweth that ye have need of these things.' The former points the\nlesson of the contradiction between such trouble of mind and the\nposition of disciples. For pure heathens it is all natural; for men\nwho do not know that they have a Father in heaven, there is nothing\nstrange or anomalous in care and anxiety, nor in the race after\nriches. But for you, it is in diametrical contradiction to all your\nprofessions, in flagrant inconsistency with all your belief, in flat\ndenial of that mighty truth that you have a Father who cares for\nyou, and that His love is enough. Every time you yield to such cares\nor thoughts you are going down to the level of pure heathenism. That\nis a sharp saying. Our Lord's steady hand wields the keen\ndissecting-knife here, and lays bare with unsparing cuts the ugly\ngrowth. We give the thing condemned a great many honourable names,\nsuch as 'laying up for a rainy day,' or 'taking care for the future\nof my children,' or 'providing things honest in the sight of all\nmen,' and a host of others, with which we gloss and gild over\nunchristian worldly-mindedness.\n\nThere are actions and feelings which are rightly described by such\nphrases, that are perfectly right, and against them Jesus Christ\nnever said a word.\n\nBut much of what we deceive ourselves by calling reasonable\nforesight is rooted distrust of God, and much practical heathenism\ncreeps into our lives under the guise of 'proper prudence.' The\nordinary maxims of the world christen many things by names of\nvirtues and yet they remain vices notwithstanding.\n\nI do not know that there is any region in which Christian men have\nmore to be on their guard, lest they be betrayed into deadening\ninconsistencies, than this of the true limits of care for material\nwealth, and of provision for the future outward life.\n\nThose of us, especially, who are engaged in business, and who live\nin our great commercial cities, have hard work to keep from dropping\ndown to the heathen level which is adopted on all sides. It is not\neasy for such a man to resist the practical belief that money is the\none thing needful, and he the happy man who has made a fortune. The\nfalse estimate of worldly good is in the air about us, and we have\nto be on our guard, or else, before we know where we are, we shall\nhave breathed the stupefying poison and feel its narcotic influence\nslackening the pulses and dimming the eye of our spirits. We need\nspecial watchfulness and prayer, or we shall not escape this subtle\ndanger, which is truly for many of us 'the pestilence that walketh\nin darkness.'\n\nSo be not tossed about by these secularities, for the root of them\nall is heathenish distrust of your Father in heaven.\n\nThen, finally, we have the cure for all agitation. Christ here puts in\nour own hands, in that thought, 'Your Father knoweth that ye have need\nof these things,' the one weapon with which we can conquer. There is\nthe true anchorage for tempest-tossed spirits, the land-locked haven\nwhere they can ride, whatever winds blow and waves break outside the bar.\n\nI remarked that our Lord here seemed to give an injunction which the\nfacts of life would prevent our obeying, and so it would be, had He\nnot pointed us to that firm truth, which, if we believe it, will\nkeep us unmoved. There is no more profitless expenditure of breath\nthan the ordinary moralist's exhortations to, or warnings against,\nstates of feeling and modes of mind. Our emotions are very partially\nunder our direct control. Life cannot be calm by willing to be so.\nBut what we can do is to think of a truth which will sway our moods.\nIf you can substitute some other thought for the one which breeds\nthe emotion you condemn, it will fall silent of itself, just as the\nspindles will stop if you shut off steam, or the mill-wheel if you\nturn the stream in another direction. So Christ gives us a great\nthought to cherish, knowing that if we let it have fair play in our\nminds, we shall be at rest: 'Your Father knoweth that ye have need\nof these things.' Surely that is enough for calmness. Why should, or\nhow can we be, troubled if we believe that?\n\n'He knows.' What a wonderful confidence in His heart and resources\nis silently implied in that word! If He knows that you need, you may\nbe quite sure that you will not want. 'He knows'; and His fatherly\nheart is our guarantee that to know and to supply our need, are one\nand the same thing with Him; and His deep treasure of exhaustless\ngood is our guarantee that our need can never go beyond His\nfullness, nor He ever, like us, see a sorrow He cannot comfort, a\nwant that He cannot meet.\n\nEnough that He knows; 'the rest goes without saying.' The whole\nburden of solicitude is shifted off our shoulders, if once we get\ninto the light of that great truth. A man is made restful in the\nmidst of all the changes and storms of life, not by trying to work\nhimself into tranquillity, not by mere dint of coercing his feelings\nthrough sheer force of will, not by ignoring any facts, but simply\nby letting this truth stand before his mind. It scatters cares, as\nthe silent moon has power, by her mild white light, to clear away a\nwhole skyful of piled blacknesses.\n\nOne other word of practical advice, as to how to carry out this\ninjunction, is suggested by the context, which goes on, 'Seek ye\nfirst the kingdom of God.'\n\nA boat will roll most when, from lack of a strong hand at the helm,\nshe has got broadside to the run of the sea. There she lies rocking\nabout just as the blow of the wave may fall, and drifting wherever\nthe wind may take her. There are two directions in which she will be\ncomparatively steady; one, when her head is kept as near the wind as\nmay be, and the other when she runs before it. Either will be\nquieter than washing about anyhow. May we make a parable out of\nthat? If you want to have as little pitching and tossing as possible\non your voyage, keep a good strong hand on the tiller. Do not let\nthe boat lie in the trough of the sea, but drive her right against\nthe wind, or as near it as she will sail. That is to say, have a\ndefinite aim to which you steer, and keep a straight course for\nthat. So Christ says to us here. Be not filled with agitations, but\nseek the Kingdom. The definite pursuit of the higher good will\ndeaden the lower anxieties. The active energies called out in the\ndaily efforts to bring my whole being under the dominion of the\nsovereign will of God, will deliver me from a crowd of tumultuous\ndesires and forebodings. I shall have neither leisure nor\ninclination to be anxious about outward things, when I am engaged\nand absorbed in seeking the kingdom. So 'bear up and steer right\nonward,' and it will be smooth sailing.\n\nSometimes, too, we shall have to try the other tack, and run\n_before_ the storm, which again will give us the minimum of\ncommotion. That, being translated, is, 'Let the winds and the waves\nsometimes have their way.' Yield to them in the sweetness of\nsubmission and the strength of resignation. Even when all the stormy\nwinds strive on the surface sea, recognise them as God's messengers\n'fulfilling His word.' Submission is not rudderless yielding to the\ngale, that tosses us on high and sinks us again, as the waves list.\nThis frees us from their power, even while they roll mountains high.\n\nThen keep firm trust in your Father's knowledge; strenuously seek\nthe kingdom. In quietness accept the changeful methods of his\nunchanging providence. Thus shall your hearts be kept in peace\namidst the storm of life, with the happy thought, '_So_ He\nbringeth them unto their desired haven.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE EQUIPMENT OF THE SERVANTS\n\n\n    'Let your loins be girded about, and your lights\n    burning; 36. And ye yourselves like unto men that wait\n    for their Lord.'--Luke xii. 35, 36.\n\nThese words ought to stir us like the sound of a trumpet. But, by long\nfamiliarity, they drop upon dull ears, and scarcely produce any effect.\nThe picture that they suggest, as an emblem of the Christian state, is\na striking one. It is midnight, a great house is without its master,\nthe lord of the palace is absent, but expected back, the servants are\nbusy in preparation, each man with his robe tucked about his middle,\nin order that it may not interfere with his work, his lamp in his hand\nthat he may see to go about his business and his eye ever turned to\nthe entrance to catch the first sign of the coming of his master. Is\nthat like your Christian life? If we are His servants that is what we\nought to be, having three things--girded loins, lighted lamps, waiting\nhearts. These are sharp tests, solemn commandments, but great\nprivileges, for blessedness as well as strength, and calm peace whatever\nhappens, belong to those who obey these injunctions and have these\nthings.\n\nI. The girded loins.\n\nEvery child knows the long Eastern dress; and that the first sign\nthat a man is in earnest about any work would be that he should\ngather his skirts around him and brace himself together.\n\nThe Christian service demands concentration. It needs the fixing of\nall a man's powers upon the one thing, the gathering together of all\nthe strength of one's nature, and binding it with cords until its\nsoftest and loosest particles are knit together, and become strong.\nWhy! you can take a handful of cotton-down, and if you will squeeze\nit tight enough, it will be as hard and as heavy as a bullet and\nwill go as far, and have as much penetrating power and force of\nimpact. The reason why some men hit and make no dint is because they\nare not gathered together and braced up by a vigorous concentration.\n\nThe difference between men that succeed and men that fail in\nordinary pursuits is by no means so much intellectual as moral; and\nthere is nothing which more certainly commands any kind of success\nthan giving yourselves with your whole concentrated power to the\ntask in hand. If we succeed in anything we must focus all our power\non it. Only by so doing, as a burning-glass does the sun's rays,\nshall we set anything on fire.\n\nAnd can a vigorous Christian life be grown upon other conditions\nthan those which a vigorous life of an ordinary sort demands? Why\nshould it be easier to be a prosperous Christian than to be a\nprosperous tradesman? Why should there not be the very same law in\noperation in the realm of the higher riches and possessions that\nrules in the realm of the lower? 'Gird up the loins _of your\nmind_,' says the Apostle, echoing the Master's word here. The\nfirst condition of true service is that you shall do it with\nconcentrated power.\n\nThere is another requirement, or perhaps rather another side of the\nsame, expressed in the figure. One reason why a man tucked up his\nrobe around his waist, when he had anything to do that needed all\nhis might, was that it might not catch upon the things that\nprotruded, and so keep him back. Concentration, and  what I may call\ndetachment, go together. In order that there shall be the one, there\nmust be the other. They require each other, and are, in effect, but\nthe two sides of the same thing contemplated in regard to hindrances\nwithout, or contemplated in regard to the relation of the several\nparts of a man's nature to each other.\n\nObserve that Luke immediately precedes the text with:--'Sell that ye\nhave, and give alms; provide yourselves bags which wax not old, a\ntreasure in the heavens that faileth not, where no thief\napproacheth, neither moth corrupteth. For where your treasure is,\nthere will your heart be also. Let your loins be girded about.' That\nis to say, do not let your affections go straggling anywhere and\neverywhere, but gather them together, and that you may gather them\ntogether tear away the robe from the briars and thorns which catch\nyou as you pass, and gird the long flowing skirts close to\nyourselves in order that they may not be caught by these hindrances.\nThere is no Christian life worth living except upon condition of\nwrenching oneself away from dependence upon idolatry of, or longing\nfor, perishable things. The lesson of my text is the same as the\nsolemn lesson which the beloved Apostle sharpened his gentle lips to\npronounce when he said, 'If any man love the world, the love of the\nFather is not in him.' 'Gird up your loins,' detach heart, desire,\neffort from perishable things, and lift them above the fleeting\ntreasures and hollow delusive sparkles of earth's preciousness, and\nset them on the realities and eternities at God's right hand. 'For\nwhere the treasure is, there will the heart be also,' and only that\nheart can never be stabbed by disappointment, nor bled to death by\nlosses, whose treasure is as sure as God and eternal as Himself.\n'Let your loins be girded about.'\n\nAnd then there is another thing suggested, which is the consequence\nof these two. The girding up of the loins is not only the symbol of\nconcentration and detachment, but of that for which the\nconcentration and the detachment are needful--viz. alert readiness\nfor service. The servant who stands before his lord with his belt\nbuckled tight indicates thereby that he is ready to run whenever and\nwherever he is bid. Our girded loins are not merely in order to give\nstrength to our frame, but in order that, having strength given to\nour frame, we may be ready for all work. That which is needful for\nany faithful discharge of any servant's duty is most of all needful\nfor the discharge of the highest duty and the noblest service to the\nMaster who has the right to command all our service.\n\nThere are three emblems in Scripture to all of which this metaphor\napplies. The soldier, before he flings himself into the fight, takes\nin another hole in his leather belt in order that there may be\nstrength given to his spine, and he may feel himself all gathered\ntogether for the deadly struggle, and the Christian soldier has to\ndo the same thing. 'Stand therefore, having your loins girt about\nwith truth.'\n\nThe traveller, before he starts upon his long road, girds himself,\nand gathers his robes round him; and we have to 'run with\nperseverance the race set before us'; and shall never do it if our\ngarments, however delicately embroidered, are flapping about our\nfeet and getting in our way when we try to run.\n\nThe servant has to be _succinct_, girded together for his work,\neven as the Master, when He took upon Him the form of a servant,\n'took a towel and girded Himself.' His servants have to follow His\nexample, to put aside the needless vesture and brace themselves with\nthe symbol of service. So as soldiers, pilgrims, servants, the\ncondition of doing our work is, girding up the loins.\n\nII. Further, there are to be the burning lamps.\n\nIf we follow the analogy of Scripture symbolism, significance\nbelongs to that emblem, making it quite worthy to stand by the side\nof the former one. You remember Christ's first exhortation in the\nSermon on the Mount immediately following the Beatitudes: 'Ye are\nthe salt of the earth, ye are the light of the world. Men do not\nlight a candle, and put it under a bushel. _Let your light so\nshine before men_, that they may see your good deeds.' If we\napply that key to decipher the hieroglyphics, the burning lamps\nwhich the girded servants are to bear in the darkness are the whole\nsum of the visible acts of Christian people, from which there may\nflash the radiance of purity and kindness, 'So shines a good deed in\na naughty world.' The lamp which the Christian servant is to bear is\na character illuminated from above (for it is a kindled lamp, and\nthe light is derived), and streaming out a brilliance into the\nencircling murky midnight which speaks of hospitable welcome and of\ngood cheer in the lighted hall within.\n\nNow, what is the connection between that exhibition of a lustrous\nand pure Christian character and the former exhortation? Why this,\nif you do not gird your loins your lamp will go out. Without the\nconcentrated effort and the continually repeated detachment and the\ndaily renewed 'Lord! here am I, send me,' of the alert and ready\nservant, there will be no shining of the life, no beauty of the\ncharacter, but dimness will steal over the exhibition of Christian\ngraces. Just as, often, in the wintry nights, a star becomes\nsuddenly obscured, and we know not why, but some thin vaporous cloud\nhas come between us and it, invisible in itself but enough to blur\nits brightness, so obscuration will befall the Christian character\nunless there be continual concentration and detachment. Do you want\nyour lights to blaze? You trim them--though it is a strange mixture\nof metaphor--you trim them when you gird your loins.\n\nIII. Lastly, the waiting hearts.\n\nAn attitude of expectancy does not depend upon theories about the\nchronology of prophecy. It is Christ's will that, till He comes, we\nknow 'neither the day nor the hour.' We may, as I suppose most of us\ndo, believe that we shall die before He comes. Be it so. That need\nnot affect the attitude of expectance, for it comes to substantially\nthe same thing whether Christ comes to us or we go to Him. And the\ncertain uncertainty of the end of our individual connection with\nthis fleeting world stands in the same relation to our hopes as the\ncoming of the Master does, and should have an analogous effect on\nour lives. Whatever may be our expectation as to the literal coming\nof the Lord, that future should be very solid, very real, very near\nus in our thoughts, a habitual subject of contemplation, and ever\noperative upon our hearts and  conduct.\n\nAh! if we never, or seldom, and then sorrowfully, look forward to\nthe future, and contemplate our meeting with our Master, I do not\nthink there is much chance of our having either our loins girt, or\nour lamps burning.\n\nOne great motive for concentration, detachment, and alertness of\nservice, as well as for exhibiting the bright graces of the\nChristian character, is to be found in the contemplation of the two\ncomings of the Lord. We should be ever looking back to the Cross,\nforward to the Throne, and upwards to the Christ, the same on them\nboth. If we have our gathering together with Him ever in view, then\nwe shall be willing to yield all for Him, to withdraw ourselves from\neverything besides for the excellency of His knowledge; and\nwhatsoever He commands, joyfully and cheerfully to do.\n\nThe reason why such an immense and miserable proportion of\nprofessing Christians are all unbraced and loose-girt, and their\nlamps giving such smoky and foul-smelling and coarse radiance, is\nbecause they look little back to the Cross, and less forward to the\nGreat White Throne. But these two solemn and sister sights are far\nmore real than the vulgar and intrusive illusions of what we call\nthe present. That is a shadow, they are the realities; that is but a\ntransitory scenic display, like the flashing of the Aurora Borealis\nfor a night in the wintry sky, these are the fixed, unsetting stars\nthat guide our course. Therefore let us turn away from the lying\npresent, with its smallnesses and its falsities, and look backwards\nto Him that died, forward to Him that is coming. And, as we nourish\nour faith on the twofold fact, a history and a hope, that Christ has\ncome, and that Christ shall come, we shall find that all devotion\nwill be quickened, and all earnestness stirred to zeal, and the dim\nlight will flame into radiance and glory.\n\nHe comes in one of two characters which lie side by side here, as\nthey do in fact. To the waiting servants He comes as the Master who\nshall gird Himself and go forth and serve them; to those who wait\nnot, He comes as a thief, not only in the suddenness nor the\nunwelcomeness of His coming, but as robbing them of what they would\nfain keep, and dragging from them much that they ought never to have\nhad. And it depends upon ourselves whether, we waiting and watching\nand serving and witnessing for Him, He shall come to us as our Joy,\nor as our Terror and our Judge.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SERVANT-LORD\n\n\n    Verily I say unto you, that He shall gird Himself, and\n    make them to sit down to meat, and will come forth,\n    and serve them.--LUKE xii. 37.\n\nNo one would have dared to say that except Jesus Christ. For surely,\nmanifold and wonderful as are the glimpses that we get in the New\nTestament of the relation of perfect souls in heaven to Him, none of\nthem pierces deeper, rises higher, and speaks more boundless\nblessing, than such words as these. Well might Christ think it\nnecessary to preface them with the solemn affirmation which always,\nupon His lips, points, as it were, an emphatic finger to, or\nunderlines that which He is about to proclaim. 'Verily I say unto\nyou,' if we had not His own word for it, we might hesitate to\nbelieve. And while we have His own word for it, and do not hesitate\nto believe, it is not for us to fathom or exhaust, but lovingly and\nreverently and humbly, because we know it but partially, to try to\nplumb the unfathomable depth of such words. 'He shall gird Himself,\nand cause them to sit down to meat; and come forth and serve them.'\n\nI. Then we have, first of all, the wonderful revelation of the\nServant-Lord.\n\nFor the name of dignity is employed over and over again in the\nimmediate context, and so makes more wonderful the assumption here\nof the promise of service.\n\nAnd the words are not only remarkable because they couple so closely\ntogether the two antagonistic ideas, as we fancy them, of rule and\nservice, authority and subordination, but because they dwell with\nsuch singular particularity of detail upon all the stages of the\nmenial office which the Monarch takes upon Himself. First, the\ngirding, assuming the servant's attire; then the leading of the\nguests, wondering and silent, to the couches where they can recline;\nthen the coming to them as they thus repose at the table, and the\nwaiting upon their wants and supplying all their need. It reminds us\nof the wonderful scene, in John's Gospel, where we have coupled\ntogether in the same intimate and interdependent fashion the two\nthoughts of dignity and of service--'Jesus, knowing that the Father\nhad given all things into His hand, and that He came from God and\nwent to God,' made this use of His consciousness and of His\nunlimited and universal dominion, that 'He laid aside His garments,\nand took a towel, and girded Himself, and washed the disciples'\nfeet'; thus teaching what our text teaches in still another form,\nthat the highest authority means the lowliest service, that the\npurpose of power is blessing, that the very sign and mark of dignity\nis to stoop, and that the crown of the Universe is worn by Him who\nis the Servant of all.\n\nBut beyond that general idea which applies to the whole of the\ndivine dealings and especially to the earthly life of Him who came,\nnot to be ministered unto, but to minister, the text sets forth\nspecial manifestations of Christ's ministering love and power, which\nare reserved for heaven, and are a contrast with earth. The Lord who\nis the Servant girds Himself. That corresponds with the commandment\nthat went before, 'Let your loins be girded,' and to some extent\ncovers the same ground and suggests the same idea. With all\nreverence, and following humbly in the thoughts that Christ has\ngiven us by the words, one may venture to say that He gathers all\nHis powers together in strenuous work for the blessing of His\nglorified servants, and that not only does the metaphor express for\nus His taking upon Himself the lowly office, but also the employment\nof all that He is and has there in the heavens for the blessing of\nthe blessed ones that sit at His table.\n\nHere upon earth, when He assumed the form of a Servant in His\nentrance into humanity, it was accompanied with the emptying Himself\nof His glory. In the symbolical incident in John's Gospel, to which\nI have already referred, He laid aside His garments before He\nwrapped around Him the badge of service. But in that wondrous\nservice by the glorified Lord there is no need for divesting ere He\nserves, but the divine glories that irradiate His humanity, and by\nwhich He, our Brother, is the King of kings and the Lord of the\nUniverse, are all used by Him for this great, blessed purpose of\ngladdening and filling up the needs of the perfected spirits that\nwait, expectant of their food, upon Him. His girding Himself for\nservice expresses not only the lowliness of His majesty and the\nbeneficence of His power, but His use of all which He has and is for\nthe blessing of those whom He keeps and blesses.\n\nI need not remind you, I suppose, how in this same wonderful picture\nof the Servant-Lord there is taught the perpetual--if we may so say,\nthe increased--lowliness of the crowned Christ. When He was here on\nearth, He was meek and holy; exalted in the heavens, He is, were it\npossible, meeker and more lowly still, because He stoops from a\nloftier elevation. The same loving, gentle, gracious heart, holding\nall its treasures for its brethren, is the heart that now is girded\nwith the golden girdle of sovereignty, and which once was girt with\nthe coarse towel of the slave. Christ is for ever the Servant,\nbecause He is for ever the Lord of them that trust in Him. Let us\nlearn that service is dominion; that 'he that is chiefest among us'\nis thereby bound to be 'the servant' and the helper 'of all.'\n\nII. Notice, the servants who are served and serve.\n\nThere are two or three very plain ideas, suggested by the great\nwords of my text, in regard to the condition of those whom the Lord\nthus ministers to, and waits upon. I need not expand them, because\nthey are familiar to us all, but let me just touch them. 'He shall\nmake them to sit down to meat.' The word, as many of you know,\nreally implies a more restful attitude--'He shall make them recline\nat meat.' What a contrast to the picture of toil and effort, which\nhas just been drawn, in the command,' Let your loins be girded\nabout, and your lamps burning, and ye yourselves as men that wait\nfor their Lord!' Here, there must be the bracing up of every power,\nand the careful tending of the light amid the darkness and the gusts\nthat threaten to blow it out, and every ear is to be listening and\nevery eye strained, for the coming of the Lord, that there may be no\nunpreparedness or delay in flinging open the gates. But then the\ntension is taken off and the loins ungirded, for there is no need\nfor painful effort, and the lamps that burn dimly and require\ntending in the mephitic air are laid aside, and 'they need no\ncandle, for the Lord is the light thereof'; and there is no more\nintense listening for the first foot-fall of One who is coming, for\nHe has come, and expectation is turned into fellowship and fruition.\nThe strained muscles can relax, and instead of effort and weariness,\nthere is repose upon the restful couches prepared by Him. Threadbare\nand old as the hills as the thought is, it comes to us toilers with\never new refreshment, like a whiff of fresh air or the gleam of the\nfar-off daylight at the top of the shaft to the miner, cramped at\nhis work in the dark. What a witness the preciousness of that\nrepresentation of future blessedness as rest to us all bears to the\npressure of toil and the aching, weary hearts which we all\ncarry! The robes may flow loose then, for there is neither pollution\nto be feared from the golden pavement, nor detention from briars or\nthorns, nor work that is so hard as to be toil or so unwelcome as to\nbe pain. There is rest from labour, care, change, and fear of loss,\nfrom travel and travail, from tired limbs and hearts more tired\nstill, from struggle and sin, from all which makes the unrest of\nlife.\n\nFurther, this great promise assures us of the supply of all wants\nthat are only permitted to last long enough to make a capacity for\nreceiving the eternal and all-satisfying food which Christ gives the\nrestful servants. Though 'they hunger no more,' they shall always\nhave appetite. Though they 'thirst no more,' they shall ever desire\ndeeper draughts of the fountain of life. Desire is one thing,\nlonging is another. Longing is pain, desire is blessedness; and that\nwe shall want and know ourselves to want, with a want which lives\nbut for a moment ere the supply pours in upon it and drowns it, is\none of the blessednesses to which we dare to look forward. Here we\nlive, tortured by wishes, longings, needs, a whole menagerie of\nhungry mouths yelping within us for their food. There we wait upon\nthe Lord, and He gives a portion in due season.\n\nThe picture in the text brings with it all festal ideas of light,\nsociety, gladness, and the like, on which I need not dwell. But let\nme just remind you of one contrast. The ministry of Christ, when He\nwas a servant here upon earth, was symbolised by His washing His\ndisciples' feet, an act which was part of the preparation of the\nguests for a feast. The ministry of Christ in heaven consists, not\nin washing, for 'he that is washed is clean every whit' there, and\nfor ever more--but in ministering to His guests that abundant feast\nfor which the service and the lustration of earth were but the\npreparation. The servant Christ serves us here by washing us from\nour sins in His own blood, both in the one initial act of\nforgiveness and by the continual application of that blood to the\nstains contracted in the miry ways of life. The Lord and Servant\nserves His servants in the heavens by leading them, cleansed to His\ntable, and filling up every soul with love and with Himself.\n\nBut all that, remember, is only half the story. Our Lord here is not\ngiving us a complete view of the retributions of the heavens, He is\nonly telling us one aspect of them. Repose, society, gladness,\nsatisfaction, these things are all true. But heaven is not lying\nupon couches and eating of a feast. There is another use of this\nmetaphor in this same Gospel, which, at first sight, strikes one as\nbeing contradictory to this. Our Lord said: 'Which of you, having a\nservant ploughing or feeding cattle, will say unto him by and by,\nwhen he is come from the field, go and sit down to meat, and will\nnot rather say unto him, make ready wherewith I may sup, and gird\nthyself, and serve me, till I have eaten and drunken; and afterward\nthou shalt eat and drink.' These two representations are not\ncontradictory. Put the two halves together like the two pictures in\na stereoscope and, as you look, they will go together into one solid\nimage, of which the one part is the resting at the table of the\nfeast, and the other part is that entrance into heaven is not\ncessation, but variation, of service. It was dirty, cold, muddy work\nout there in the field ploughing, and when the man comes back with\nhis soiled, wet raiment and his weary limbs a change of occupation\nis rest. It is better for him to be set to 'make ready wherewith I\nmay eat and drink,' than to be told to sit down and do nothing.\n\nSo the servants are served, and the servants serve. And these two\nrepresentations are not contradictory, but they fill up the\nconception of perfect blessedness. For remember, if we may venture\nto say so, that the very same reason which makes Christ the Lord\nserve His servants makes the servants serve Christ the Lord. For love,\nwhich underlies their relationship, has for its very life-breath doing\nkindnesses and good to its objects, and we know not whether it is more\nblessed to the loving heart to minister to, or to be ministered to by,\nthe heart which it loves. So the Servant-Lord and the servants,\nserving and served, are swayed in both by the same motive and rejoice\nin the interchange of offices and tokens of love.\n\nIII. Mark the earthly service which leads to the heavenly rest.\n\nI have already spoken about Christ's earthly service, and reminded\nyou that there is needed, first of all, that we should partake in\nHis purifying work through His blood and His Spirit that dwells in\nus, ere we can share in His highest ministrations to His servants in\nthe heavens. But there is also service of ours here on earth, which\nmust precede our receiving our share in the wonderful things\npromised here. And the nature of that service is clearly stated in\nthe preceding words, 'Blessed are those servants whom the Lord when\nHe cometh shall find'--doing what? Trying to make themselves better?\nSeeking after conformity to His commandments? No! 'Whom the Lord\nwhen He cometh shall find _watching_.' It is character rather\nthan conduct, and conduct only as an index of character--disposition\nrather than deeds--that makes it possible for Christ to be hereafter\nour Servant-Lord. And the character is more definitely described in\nthe former words. Loins girded, lights burning, and a waiting which\nis born of love. The concentration and detachment from earth, which\nare expressed by the girded loins, the purity and holiness of\ncharacter and life, which are symbolised by the burning lights, and\nthe expectation which desires, and does not shrink from, His coming\nin His Kingdom to be the Judge of all the earth--these things, being\nbuilt upon the acceptance of Christ's ministry of washing, fit us\nfor participation in Christ's ministry of the feast, and make it\npossible that even we shall be of those to whom the Lord, in that\nday, will come with gladness and with gifts. 'Blessed are the\nservants whom the Lord shall find so watching.'\n\n\n\n\nSERVANTS AND STEWARDS HERE AND HEREAFTER\n\n\n    'Blessed are those servants, whom the Lord, when He\n    cometh, shall find watching: Verily I shall say unto\n    you, that He shall gird Himself, and make them to sit\n    down to meat, and will come forth and serve them.\n\n    Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when He cometh,\n    shall find so doing. 44. Of a truth I say unto you,\n    that He will make him ruler over all that he hath.\n    --LUKE xii. 37, 43, and 44.\n\nYou will, of course, observe that these two passages are strictly\nparallel in form. Our Lord evidently intends them to run side by\nside, and to be taken together. The divergences are as significant\nand instructive as the similarities, and the force of these will be\nbest brought out by just recalling, in a sentence or two, the\noccasion for the utterance of the second of the two passages which I\nhave taken for my text. When our Lord had finished His previous\naddress and exhortations, Peter characteristically pushed his oar in\nwith the question, 'Do these commandments refer to us, the Apostles,\nor to all,' the whole body of disciples? Our Lord admits the\ndistinction, recognises in His answer that the 'us,' the Twelve,\nwere nearer Christ than the general mass of His followers, and\nanswers Peter's question by reiterating what He has been saying in a\nslightly different form. He had spoken before about servants. Now He\nspeaks about 'stewards,' because the Apostles did stand in that\nrelation to the other disciples, as being slaves indeed, like the\nrest of the household, but slaves in a certain position of\nauthority, by the Master's appointment, and charged with providing\nthe nourishment which, of course, means the religious instruction,\nof their fellow-servants.\n\nSo, notice that the first benediction is upon the 'servants,' the\nsecond is upon the servants who are 'stewards.' The first\nexhortation requires that when the Master comes He shall find the\nservants watching; the second demands that when He comes He shall\nfind the stewards doing their work. The first promise of reward\ngives the assurance that the watching servants shall be welcomed\ninto the house, and be waited on by the Master himself; the second\ngives the assurance that the faithful steward shall be promoted to\nhigher work. We are all servants, and we are all, if we are\nChristian men, stewards of the manifold grace of God.\n\nSo, then, out of these two passages thus brought together, as our\nLord intended that they should be, we gather two things: the twofold\naspect of life on earth--watchfulness and work; and the twofold hope\nof life in heaven--rest and rule. 'Blessed is that servant whom his\nLord, when He cometh, shall find watching.' 'Blessed is that steward\nwhom his Lord, when He cometh, shall find'--not merely watching,\nbut--'so doing.'\n\nI. The twofold attitude here enjoined.\n\nThe first idea in watchfulness is keeping awake; and the second is\nlooking out for something that is coming. Both these conceptions are\nintertwined in both our Lord's use of the metaphor of the watching\nservant, and in the echoes of it which we find abundantly in the\nApostolic letters. The first thing is to keep ourselves awake all\nthrough the soporific night, when everything tempts to slumber. Even\nthe wise virgins, with trimmed lamps and girt loins, do in some degree\nsuccumb to the drowsy influences around them, and like the foolish\nones, slumber, though the slumbers of the two classes be unlike.\nChristian people live in the midst of an order of things which tempts\nthem to close the eyes of their hearts and minds to all the real and\nunseen glories above and around them, and that might be within them,\nand to live for the comparatively contemptible and trivial things of\nthis present. Just as when a man sleeps, he loses his consciousness\nof solid external realities, and passes into a fantastic world of his\nown imaginations, which have no correspondence in external facts, and\nwill vanish like\n\n  'The baseless fabric of a dream,\n  If but a cock shall crow,'\n\nso the men who are conscious only of this present life and of the\nthings that are seen, though they pride themselves on being wide\nawake, are, in the deepest of their being, fast asleep, and are\ndealing with illusions which will pass and leave nought behind, as\nreally as are men who lie dreaming upon couches, and fancy\nthemselves hard at work. Keep awake; that is the first thing; which,\nbeing translated into plain English, points just to this, that\nunless we make a dead lift of continuous effort to keep firm grasp\nof God and Christ, and of all the unseen magnificences that are\nincluded in these two names, as surely as we live we shall lose our\nhold upon them, and fall into the drugged and diseased sleep in\nwhich so many men around us are plunged. It sometimes seems to one\nas if the sky above us were raining down narcotics upon us, so\nprofoundly are the bulk of men unconscious of realities, and\nbefooled by the illusions of a dream.\n\nKeep yourselves awake first, and then let the waking, wide-opened\neye, be looking forward. It is the very _differentia_, so to\nspeak, the characteristic mark and distinction of the Christian\nnotion of life, that it shifts the centre of gravity from the\npresent into the future, and makes that which is to come of far more\nimportance than that which is, or which has been. No man is living\nup to the height of his Christian responsibilities or privileges\nunless there stands out before him, as the very goal and aim of his\nwhole life, what can never be realised until he has passed within\nthe veil, and is at rest in the 'secret place of the Most High.' To\nlive for the future is, in one aspect, the very definition of a\nChristian.\n\nBut the text reminds us of the specific form which that future\nanticipation is to take. It is not for us, as it is for men in the\nworld, to fix our hopes for the future on abstract laws of the\nprogress of humanity, or the evolution of the species, or the\ngradual betterment of the world, and the like. All these may be\ntrue: I say nothing about them. But what we have to fill our future\nwith is that 'that same Jesus shall so come in like manner as ye\nhave seen Him go.' It is much to be lamented that curious\nchronological speculations have so often discredited that great\ncentral hope of the Church, which is properly altogether independent\nof them; and that, because people have got befogged in interpreting\nsuch symbols as beasts, and horses, and trumpets, and seals, and the\nlike, the Christian Church as a whole should so feebly be holding by\nthat great truth, without which, as it seems to me, the truth which\nmany of us are tempted to make the exclusive one, loses half its\nsignificance. No man can rightly understand the whole contents of\nthe blessed proclamation, 'Christ has come,' unless he ends the\nsentence with 'and Christ will come.' Blessed is 'that servant whom\nthe Lord, when He cometh, shall find watching.'\n\nOf course I need not remind you that much for which that second\ncoming of the Lord is precious, and an object of hope to the world\nand the Church, is realised by the individual in the article of\ndeath. Whether Christ comes to the world or I go to Christ, the\nimportant thing is that there result union and communion, the reign\nof righteousness and peace, the felicities of the heavenly state.\nAnd so, dear brethren, just because of the uncertainty that drapes\nthe future, and which we are often tempted to make a reason for\ndismissing the anticipation of it from our minds, we ought the more\nearnestly to give heed that we keep that end ever before us, and\nwhether it is reached by His coming to us, or our going to Him,\nanticipate, by the power of realising faith grasping the firm words\nof Revelation, the unimaginable, and--until it is experienced--the\nincommunicable blessedness revealed in these great, simple words,\n'So shall we ever be with the Lord.'\n\nBut, then, look at the second of the aspects of Christian duty which\nis presented here, that watchfulness is to lead on to diligent work.\n\nThe temptation for any one who is much occupied with the hope of\nsome great change and betterment in the near future is to be\nrestless and unable to settle down to his work, and to yield to\ndistaste of the humdrum duties of every day. If some man that kept a\nlittle chandler's shop in a back street was expecting to be made a\nking to-morrow, he would not be likely to look after his poor trade\nwith great diligence. So we find in the Apostle Paul's second\nletter--that to the Thessalonians--that he had to encounter, as well\nas he could, the tendency of hope to make men restless, and to\ninsist upon the thought--which is the same lesson as is taught us by\nthe second of our texts--that if a man hoped, then he had with\nquietness to work and eat his own bread, and not be shaken in mind.\n\n'Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when He cometh, shall find\nso doing.' It may seem humble work to serve out hunches of bread and\npots of black broth to the family of slaves, when the steward is\nexpecting the coming of the master of the house, and his every nerve\nis tingling with anticipation. But it is steadying work, and it is\nblessed work. It is better that a man should be found doing the\nhomeliest duty as the outcome of his great expectations of the\ncoming of his Master, than that he should be fidgeting and restless\nand looking only at that thought till it unfits him for his common\ntasks. Who was it who, sitting playing a game of chess, and being\naddressed by some scandalised disciple with the question, 'What\nwould you do if Jesus Christ came, and you were playing your game?'\nanswered, 'I would finish it'? The best way for a steward to be\nready for the Master, and to show that he is watching, is that he\nshould be 'found so doing' the humble task of his stewardship. The\ntwo women that were squatting on either side of the millstone, and\nhelping each other to whirl the handle round in that night were in\nthe right place, and the one that was taken had no cause to regret\nthat she was not more religiously employed. The watchful servant\nshould be a working servant.\n\nII. And now I have spent too much time on this first part of my\ndiscourse; so I must condense the second. Here are two aspects of\nthe heavenly state, rest and rule.\n\n'Verily I say unto you, He shall gird Himself, and make them to sit\ndown to meat, and will come forth and serve them.' I do not know\nthat there is a more wonderful promise, with more light lying in its\ndarkness, in all Scripture than that. Jesus Christ continues in the\nheavens to be found in 'the form of a servant.' As here He girded\nHimself with the towel of humiliation in the upper room, so there He\ngirds Himself with the robes of His imperial majesty, and uses all\nHis powers for the nourishment and blessedness of His servants. His\neverlasting motto is, 'I am among you as one that serveth.' On earth\nHis service was to wash His disciples' feet; in heaven the pure foot\ncontracts no stain, and needs no basin: but in heaven He still\nserves, and serves by spreading a table, and, as a King might do at\nsome ceremonial feasts, waiting on the astonished guests.\n\nI say nothing about all the wonderful ideas that gather round that\nfamiliar but never-to-be-worn-into-commonplace emblem of the feast.\nRepose, in contrast with the girded loins and the weary waiting of\nthe midnight watch; nourishment, and the satisfaction of all\ndesires; joy, society--all these things, and who knows how much\nmore, that we shall have to get there to understand, lie in that\nmetaphor, 'Blessed is that servant' who is served by the Master, and\nnourished by His presence?\n\nBut modern popular presentations of the future life have far too\npredominantly dwelt upon that side of it. It is a wonderful\nconfession of 'the weariness, the fever, and the fret,' the hunger\nand loneliness of earthly experience, that the thought of heaven as\nthe opposite of all these things should have almost swallowed up the\nother thought with which our Lord associates it here. He would not\nhave us think only of repose. He unites with that representation, so\nfascinating to us weary and heavy-laden, the other of administrative\nauthority. He will set him 'over all that he hath.'\n\nThe steward gets promotion. 'On twelve thrones judging the twelve\ntribes of Israel'--these are to be the seats, and that is to be the\noccupation of the Twelve. 'Thou hast been faithful over a few\nthings; I will make thee ruler over many things.' The relation\nbetween earthly faithfulness and heavenly service is the same in\nessence as that between the various stages of our work here. The\nreward for work here is more work; a wider field, greater\ncapacities. And what depths of authority, of new dignity, of royal\nsupremacy, lie in those solemn and mysterious words, I know not--'He\nwill set him over all that he hath.' My union with Christ is to be\nso close as that all His is mine and I am master of it. But at all\nevents this we can say, that faithfulness here leads to larger\nservice yonder; and that none of the aptitudes and capacities which\nhave been developed in us here on earth will want a sphere when we\npass yonder.\n\nSo let watchfulness lead to faithfulness, and watchful faithfulness\nand faithful watchfulness will lead to repose which is activity, and\nrule which is rest.\n\n\n\n\nFIRE ON EARTH\n\n\n    'I am come to send fire on the earth; and what will I,\n    if it be already kindled!'--LUKE xii. 49.\n\nWe have here one of the rare glimpses which our Lord gives us into\nHis inmost heart, His thought of His mission, and His feelings about\nit. If familiarity had not weakened the impression, and dulled the\nedge, of these words, how startling they would seem to us! 'I am\ncome'--then, He was, before He came, and He came by His own\nvoluntary act. A Jewish peasant says that He is going to set the\nworld on fire-and He did it. But the triumphant certitude and\nconsciousness of a large world-wide mission is all shadowed in the\nnext clause. I need not trouble you with questions as to the precise\ntranslation of the words that follow. There may be differences of\nopinion about that, but I content myself with simply suggesting that\na fair representation of the meaning would be, 'How I wish that it\nwas already kindled!' There is a longing to fulfil the purpose of\nHis coming and a sense that something has to be done first, and what\nthat something if, our Lord goes on to say in the next verse. This\ndesirable end can only be reached through a preliminary painful\nordeal, 'but I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how am I\nstraitened till it be accomplished.' If I might use such an\nincongruous figure, the fire that is to flash and flame through the\nworld emerges from the dark waters of that baptism. Our Lord goes on\nstill further to dwell upon the consequence of His mission and of\nHis sufferings. And that, too, shadows the first triumphant thought\nof the fire that He was to send on earth. For, the baptism being\naccomplished, and the fire therefore being set at liberty to flame\nthrough the world, what follows? Glad reception? Yes, and angry\nrejection.  Suppose ye that I am come to give peace on earth? I tell\nyou, nay! but rather division.' The fire, the baptism, and the\nsword; these three may sum up our Lord's vision of the purpose,\nmeans, and mingled result of His mission. But it is only with regard\nto the first of these that I wish to speak now.\n\nI. The fire which Christ longed to cast upon the earth.\n\nNow, opinions differ as to what is meant by this fire Some would\nhave, it to mean the glow of love kindled in believing hearts, and\nothers explain it by other human emotions or by the transformation\neffected in the world by Christ's coming. But while these things are\nthe results of the fire kindled on earth, that fire itself means not\nthese effects, but the cause of them. It is _brought_ before it\nkindles a flame on earth.\n\nHe does not kindle it simply in humanity, but He launches it into\nthe midst of humanity. It is something from above that He flings\ndown upon the earth. So it is not merely a quickened intelligence, a\nhigher moral life, or any other of the spiritual and religious\ntransformations which are effected in the world by the mission of\nChrist that is primarily to be kept in view here, but it is the\nHeaven-sent cause of these transformations and that flame. If we\ncatch the celestial fire, we shall flash and blaze, but the fire\nwhich we catch is not originated on earth. In a word it is God's\nDivine Spirit which Christ came to communicate to the world.\n\nI need not remind you, I suppose, how such an interpretation of the\nwords before us is in entire correspondence with the symbolism both\nof the Old and New Testament. I do not dwell upon the former at all,\nand with regard to the latter I need only remind you of the great\nwords by which the Forerunner of the Lord set forth His mighty work,\nin contrast with the superficial cleansing which John himself had to\nproclaim. 'I indeed baptize you with water, but He shall baptize you\nwith the Holy Ghost and with fire.'  I need only point to the\nPentecost, and the symbol there, of which the central point was the\ncloven tongues, which symbolised not only the speech which follows\nfrom all deep conviction, but the descent from above of the Spirit\nof God, who is the Spirit of burning, on each bowed and willing\nhead. With these analogies to guide us, I think we shall not go far\nwrong if we see in the words of my text our Lord's great symbolical\npromise that the issue of His mission shall be to bring into the\nheart of the world, so to speak, and to lodge in the midst of\nhumanity which is one great whole, a new divine influence that shall\nflame and burn through the world.\n\nSo, then, my text opens out into thoughts of the many-sided\napplications of this symbol. What hopes for the world and ourselves\nare suggested by that fire? Let us stick to the symbol closely, and\nwe shall then best understand the many-sided blessings that flash\nand coruscate in the gift of the Spirit.\n\nIt is the gift of life. No doubt, here and there in Scripture, fire\nstands for a symbol of destroying power. But that is a less frequent\nuse than that in which it stands as a symbol of life. In a very real\nsense life is warmth and death is cold. Is not respiration a kind of\ncombustion? Do not physiologists tell us that? Is not the centre of\nthe system and the father of all physical life that great blazing\nsun which radiates heat? And is not this promise, 'I will send fire\non the earth,' the assurance that into the midst of our death there\nshall come the quick energy of a living Spirit which shall give us\nto possess some shadow of the immortal Being from which itself\nflows?\n\nBut, beyond that, there is another great promise here, of a\nquickening energy. I use the word 'quickening,' not in the sense of\nlife-giving, but in the sense of stimulating. We talk about 'the\nflame of genius,' the 'fervour of conviction,' about 'fiery zeal,'\nabout 'burning earnestness,' and the like; and, conversely, we speak\nof 'cold caution,' and 'chill indifference,' and so on. Fire means\nlove, zeal, swift energy. This, then, is another side of this great\npromise, that into the torpor of our sluggish lives He is waiting to\ninfuse a swift Spirit that shall make us glow and flame with\nearnestness, burn with love, aspire with desire, cleave to Him with\nthe fervour of conviction, and be, in some measure, like those\nmighty spirits that stand before the Throne, the seraphim that burn\nwith adoration and glow with rapture. A fire that shall destroy all\nour sluggishness, and change it into swift energy of glad obedience,\nmay be kindled in our spirits by the Holy Spirit whom Christ gives.\n\nStill farther, the promise of my text sets forth, not only life-giving\nand stimulating energy, but purifying power. Fire cleanses, as many\nan ancient ritual recognised. For instance, the thought that underlay\neven that savage 'passing the children through the fire to Moloch' was,\nthat thus passed, humanity was cleansed from its stains. And that is\ntrue. Every man must be cleansed, if he is cleansed at all, by the\ntouch of fire. If you take a piece of foul clay, and push it into a\nfurnace, as it warms it whitens, and you can see the stains melting\noff it as the fire exercises its beneficent and purifying mastery. So\nthe promise to us is of a great Spirit that will come, and by\ncommunicating His warmth will dissipate our foulness, and the sins\nthat are enwrought into the substance of our natures will exhale from\nthe heated surface, and disappear. The ore is flung into the blast\nfurnace, and the scum rises to the surface, and may be ladled off,\nand the pure stream, cleansed because it is heated, flows out\nwithout scoriae or ash. All that was 'fuel for the fire' is burned;\nand what remains is more truly itself and more precious. And so,\nbrother, you and I have, for our hope of cleansing, that we shall be\npassed through the fire, and dwell in the everlasting burnings of a\nDivine Spirit and a changeless love.\n\nThe last thought suggested by the metaphor is that it promises not\nonly life-giving, stimulating, purifying, but also transforming and\nassimilating energy. For every lump of coal in your scuttles may be\na parable; black and heavy, it is cast into the fire, and there it\nis turned into the likeness of the flame which it catches and itself\nbegins to glow, and redden, and crackle, and break into a blaze.\nThat is like what you and I may experience if we will. The incense\nrises in smoke to the heavens when it is heated: and our souls\naspire and ascend, an odour of a sweet smell, acceptable to God,\nwhen the fire of that Divine Spirit has loosed them from the bonds\nthat bind them to earth, and changed them into His own likeness, We\nall are 'changed from glory to glory even as by the Spirit of the\nLord.'\n\nSo I think if you take these plain teachings of this symbol you\nlearn something of the operations of that Divine Spirit to which our\nLord pointed in the great words of my text.\n\nII. And now I have a second thought to suggest--viz., what Christ\nhad to do before His longing could be satisfied.\n\nHe longed, but the longing wish was not able to bring that on which\nit was fixed. He had come to send this divine fire upon the earth;\nbut there was something that stood in the way; and something needed\nto be done as a preliminary before the ultimate purpose of His\ncoming could be accomplished. What that was, as I have already tried\nto point out, the subsequent verse tells us. I do not need, nor\nwould it be congruous with my present purpose, to comment upon it at\nany length. We all know what He meant by the 'baptism,' that He had\nto be baptized with, and what were the dark waters into which He had\nto pass, and beneath which His sacred head had to be plunged. We all\nknow that by the 'baptism' He meant His passion and His Cross. I do\nnot dwell, either, upon the words of pathetic human shrinking with\nwhich His vision of the Cross is here accompanied, but I simply wish\nto signalise one thing, that in the estimation of Jesus Christ\nHimself it was not in His power to kindle this holy fire in humanity\nuntil He had died for men's sins. That must come first; the Cross\nmust precede Pentecost. There can be no Divine Spirit in His full\nand loftiest powers poured out upon humanity until the Sacrifice has\nbeen offered on the Cross for the sins of the world. We cannot read\nall the deep reasons in the divine nature, and in human receptivity,\nwhich make that sequence absolutely necessary, and that preliminary\nindispensable. But this, at least, we know, that the Divine Spirit\nwhom Christ gives uses as His instrument and sword the completed\nrevelation which Christ completed in His Cross, Resurrection, and\nAscension, and that, until His weapon was fashioned, He could not\ncome.\n\nThat thought is distinctly laid down in many places in Scripture, to\nwhich I need not refer in more than a word. For instance, the\nApostle John tells us that, when our Lord spoke in a cognate figure\nabout the rivers of water which should flow from them who believed\non Him, He spake of that Holy Spirit who 'was not given because that\nJesus was not yet glorified.' We remember the words in the upper\nchamber, 'If I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you,\nbut if I depart I will send Him unto you.' But enough for us that He\nrecognised the necessity, and that here His baptism of suffering\ncomes into view, not so much for what it was itself, the sacrifice\nfor the world's sin, as for that to which it was the necessary\npreliminary and introduction, the bestowment on humanity of the gift\nof the Divine Spirit. The old Greek legend of the Titan that stole\nfire from heaven tells us that he brought it to earth in a reed. Our\nChrist brings the heavenly fire in the fragile, hollow reed of His\nhumanity, and the reed has to be broken in order that the fire may\nblaze out. 'How I wish that it were kindled! but I have a baptism to\nbe baptized with.'\n\nIII. Lastly, what the world has to do to receive the fire.\n\nTake these triumphant words of our Lord about what He was to do\nafter His Cross, and contrast with them the world as it is to-day,\nay! and the Church as it is to-day. What has become of the fire? Has\nit died down into grey ashes, choked with the cold results of its\nown former flaming power? Was Jesus Christ deceiving Himself? was He\ncherishing an illusion as to the significance and permanence of the\nresults of His work in the world? No! There is a difference between\nB.C. and A.D. which can only be accounted for by the fulfilment of\nthe promise in my text, that He did bring fire and set the world\naflame. But the condition on which that fire will burn either\nthrough communities, society, humanity, or in an individual life, is\ntrust in Him that gives it, and cleaving to Him, and the appropriate\ndiscipline. 'This spake He of the Holy Spirit which they that\nbelieve on Him should receive.'\n\nAnd they that do _not_ believe upon Him--what of them? The fire\nis of no advantage to them. Some of you do as people in Swiss\nvillages do where there is a conflagration--you cover over your\nhouses with incombustible felts or other materials, and deluge them\nwith water, in the hope that no spark may light on you. There is no\nway by which the fire can do its work on us except our opening our\nhearts for the Firebringer. When He comes He brings the vital spark\nwith Him, and He plants it on the hearth of our hearts. Trust in\nHim, believe far more intensely than the most of Christian people of\nthis day do in the reality of the gift of supernatural divine life\nfrom Jesus Christ. I do believe that hosts of professing Christians\nhave no firm grip of this truth, and, alas! very little verification\nof it in their lives. Your heavenly Father gives the Holy Spirit to\nthem that ask Him. 'Covet earnestly the best gifts'; and take care\nthat you do not put the fire out--'quench not the Holy Spirit,' as\nyou will do if you 'fulfil the lusts of the flesh.' I remember once\nbeing down in the engine-room of an ocean-going steamer. There were\nthe furnaces, large enough to drive an engine of five or six\nthousand horsepower. A few yards off there were the refrigerators,\nwith ice hanging round the spigots that were put in to test the\ntemperature. Ah! that is like many a Christian community, and many\nan individual Christian. Here is the fire; there is the frost.\nBrethren, let us seek to be baptized with fire, lest we should be\ncast into it, and be consumed by it.\n\n\nEND OP VOL. I.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVOLUME II: ST. LUKE _Chaps. XIII to XXIV_\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nTRUE SABBATH OBSERVANCE (Luke xiii. 10-17)\n\nTHE STRAIT GATE (Luke xiii. 22-30).\n\nCHRIST'S MESSAGE TO HEROD (Luke xiii. 32, 33)\n\nTHE LESSONS OF A FEAST (Luke xiv. 1-14)\n\nEXCUSES NOT REASONS (Luke xiv. 18)\n\nTHE RASH BUILDER (Luke xiv. 28)\n\nTHAT WHICH WAS LOST (Luke xv. 4, 8, 11)\n\nTHE PRODIGAL AND HIS FATHER (Luke xv. 11-24)\n\nGIFTS TO THE PRODIGAL (Luke xv. 22, 23)\n\nTHE FOLLIES OF THE WISE (Luke xvi. 8)\n\nTWO KINDS OF RICHES (Luke xvi. 10-12)\n\nTHE GAINS OF THE FAITHFUL STEWARD (Luke xvi. 12)\n\nDIVES AND LAZARUS (Luke xvi. 19-31)\n\nMEMORY IN ANOTHER WORLD (Luke xvi 25)\n\nGOD'S SLAVES (Luke xvii. 9-10)\n\nWHERE ABE THE NINE? (Luke xvii. 11-19)\n\nTHREE KINDS OF PRAYING (Luke xviii. 1-14)\n\nENTERING THE KINGDOM (Luke xviii. 15-30)\n\nTHE MAN THAT STOPPED JESUS (Luke xviii. 40-41)\n\nMELTED BY KINDNESS (Luke xix. 5)\n\nTHE TRADING SERVANTS (Luke xix. 16, 18)\n\nTHE REWARDS OF THE TRADING SERVANTS (Luke xix. 17,19)\n\nA NEW KIND OP KING (Luke xix. 37-48)\n\nTENANTS WHO WANTED TO BE OWNERS (Luke xx. 9-19)\n\nWHOSE IMAGE AND SUPERSCRIPTION? (Luke xx. 24)\n\nWHEN SHALL THESE THINGS BE? (Luke xxi. 20-36)\n\nTHE LORD'S SUPPER (Luke xxii. 7-20)\n\nPARTING PROMISES AND WARNINGS (Luke xxii. 24-37)\n\nCHRIST'S IDEAL OF A MONARCH (Luke xxii. 25, 26)\n\nTHE LONELY CHRIST (Luke xxii. 28)\n\nA GREAT FALL AND A GREAT RECOVERY (Luke xxii. 32)\n\nGETHSEMANY (Luke xxii. 39-58)\n\nTHE CROSS THE VICTORY AND DEFEAT OF DARKNESS (Luke xxii. 53)\n\nIN THE HIGH PRIEST'S PALACE (Luke xxii. 54-71)\n\nCHRIST'S LOOK (Luke xxii. 61)\n\n'THE RULERS TAKE COUNSEL TOGETHER' (Luke xxiii. 1-12)\n\nA SOUL'S TRAGEDY (Luke xxiii. 9)\n\nJESUS AND PILATE (Luke xxiii. 13-26)\n\nWORDS FROM THE CROSS (Luke xxiii. 33-46)\n\nTHE DYING THIEF (Luke xxiii. 42)\n\nTHE FIRST EASTER SUNRISE (Luke xxiv. 1-12)\n\nTHE LIVING DEAD (Luke xxiv. 5-6)\n\nTHE RISEN LORD'S SELF-REVELATION TO WAVERING DISCIPLES (Luke xxiv.\n13-32)\n\nDETAINING CHRIST (Luke xxiv. 28, 29)\n\nTHE MEAL AT EMMAUS (Luke xxiv, 30, 31)\n\nPETER ALONE WITH JESUS (Luke xxiv. 34)\n\nTHE TRIUMPHANT END (Luke xxiv. 36-53)\n\nCHRIST'S WITNESSES (Luke xxiv. 48,49)\n\nTHE ASCENSION (Luke xxiv. 50, 51; Acts i. 9)\n\n\n\n\nTRUE SABBATH OBSERVANCE\n\n\n    'And He was teaching in one of the synagogues on the\n    Sabbath. 11. And, behold, there was a woman which had\n    a spirit of infirmity eighteen years, and was bowed\n    together, and could in no wise lift up herself.\n    12. And when Jesus saw her, He called her to Him, and\n    said unto her, Woman, thou art loosed from thine\n    infirmity. 13. And He laid His hands on her: and\n    immediately she was made straight, and glorified God.\n    14. And the ruler of the synagogue answered with\n    indignation, because that Jesus had healed on the\n    Sabbath day, and said unto the people, There are six\n    days in which men ought to work: in them therefore\n    come and be healed, and not on the Sabbath day.\n    15. The Lord then answered him, and said, Thou\n    hypocrite, doth not each one of you on the Sabbath\n    loose his ox or his ass from the stall and lead him\n    away to watering! 16. And ought not this woman, being\n    a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan hath bound, lo,\n    these eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the\n    Sabbath day? 17. And when He had said these things, all\n    His adversaries were ashamed: and all the people\n    rejoiced for all the glorious things that were done by\n    Him.'--LUKE xiii. 10-17.\n\nThis miracle was wrought, unasked, on a woman, in a synagogue, and\nby all these characteristics was specially interesting to Luke. He\nalone records it. The narrative falls into two parts--the miracle,\nand the covert attack of the ruler of the synagogue, with our Lord's\ndefence.\n\nWhat better place than the synagogue could there be for a miracle of\nmercy? The service of man is best built on the service of God, and\nthe service of God is as truly accomplished in deeds of human\nkindness done for His sake as in oral worship. The religious basis\nof beneficence and the beneficent manifestation of religion are\ncommonplaces of Christian practice and thought from the beginning,\nand are both set forth in our Lord's life. He did not substitute\ndoing good to men for worshipping God, as a once much-belauded\nbut now all-but-forgotten anti-Christian writer has done; but He\nshowed us both in their true relations. We have Christ's authority\nfor regarding the woman's infirmity as the result of demoniacal\npossession, but the case presents some singular features. There\nseems to have been no other consequence than her incapacity to stand\nstraight. Apparently the evil power had not touched her moral\nnature, for she had somehow managed to drag herself to the synagogue\nto pray; she 'glorified God' for her cure, and Christ called her 'a\ndaughter of Abraham,' which surely means more than simply that she\nwas a Jewess. It would seem to have been a case of physical\ninfirmity only, and perhaps rather of evil inflicted eighteen years\nbefore than of continuous demoniacal possession.\n\nBut be that as it may, there is surely no getting over our Lord's\nexpress testimony here, that purely physical ills, not distinguishable\nfrom natural infirmity, were then, in some instances, the work of a\nmalignant, personal power. Jesus knew the duration of the woman's\n'bond' and the cause of it, by the same supernatural knowledge. That\nsad, bowed figure, with eyes fixed on the ground, and unable to look\ninto His face, which yet had crawled to the synagogue, may teach us\nlessons of patience and of devout submission. She might have found\ngood excuses for staying at home, but she, no doubt, found solace in\nworship; and she would not have so swiftly 'glorified God' for her\ncure, if she had not often sought Him in her infirmity. They who wait\non Him often find more than they expect in His house.\n\nNote the flow of Christ's unasked sympathy and help. We have already\nseen several instances of the same thing in this Gospel. The sight\nof misery ever set the chords of that gentle, unselfish heart\nvibrating, as surely as the wind draws music from the Aeolian harp\nstrings. So it should be with us, and so would it be, if we had in\nus 'the law of the Spirit of life in Christ' making us 'free from\nthe law of' self. But His spontaneous sympathy is not merely the\nperfection of manhood; it is the revelation of God. Unasked, the\ndivine love pours itself on men, and gives all that it can give to\nthose who do not seek, that they may be drawn to seek the better\ngifts which cannot be given unasked. God 'tarrieth not for man, nor\nwaiteth for the sons of men,' in giving His greatest gift. No\nprayers besought Heaven for a Saviour. God's love is its own motive,\nand wells up by its inherent diffusiveness. Before we call, He\nanswers.\n\nNote the manner of the cure. It is twofold--a word and a touch. The\nformer is remarkable, as not being, like most of the cures of\ndemoniacs, a command to the evil spirit to go forth, but an\nassurance to the sufferer, fitted to inspire her with hope, and to\nencourage her to throw off the alien tyranny. The touch was the\nsymbol to her of communicated power--not that Jesus needed a vehicle\nfor His delivering strength, but that the poor victim, crushed in\nspirit, needed the outward sign to help her in realising the new\nenergy that ran in her veins, and strengthened her muscles.\nUnquestionably the cure was miraculous, and its cause was Christ's\nwill.\n\nBut apparently the manner of cure gave more place to the faith of\nthe sufferer, and to the effort which her faith in Christ's word and\ntouch heartened her to put forth, than we find in other miracles.\nShe 'could in no wise lift herself up,' not because of any\nmalformation or deficiency in physical power, but because that\nmalign influence laid a heavy hand on her will and body, and crushed\nher down. Only supernatural power could deliver from supernatural\nevil, but that power wrought through as well us OB her; and when she\nbelieved that she was loosed from her infirmity, and had received\nstrength from Jesus, she was loosed.\n\nThis makes the miracle no less, but it makes it a mirror in which\nthe manner of our deliverance from a worse dominion of Satan is\nshadowed. Christ is come to loose us all from the yoke of bondage,\nwhich bows our faces to the ground, and makes us unfit to look up.\nHe only can loose us, and His way of doing it is to assure us that\nwe are free, and to give us power to fling off the oppression in the\nstrength of faith in Him.\n\nNote the immediate cure and its immediate result. The 'back bowed\ndown always' for eighteen weary years is not too stiff to be made\nstraight at once. The Christ-given power obliterates all traces of\nthe past evil. Where He is the physician, there is no period of\ngradual convalescence, but 'the thing is done suddenly'; and, though\nin the spiritual realm, there still hang about pardoned men remains\nof forgiven sin, they are 'sanctified' in their inward selves, and\nhave but to see to it that they work out in character and conduct\nthat 'righteousness and holiness of truth' which they have received\nin the new nature given them through faith.\n\nHow rapturous was the gratitude from the woman's lips, which broke\nin upon the formal, proper, and heartless worship of the synagogue!\nThe immediate hallowing of her joy into praise surely augurs a\npreviously devout heart. Thanksgiving generally comes thus swiftly\nafter mercies, when prayer has habitually preceded them. The\nsweetest sweetness of all our blessings is only enjoyed when we\nglorify God for them. Incense must be kindled, to be fragrant, and\nour joys must be fired by devotion, to give their rarest perfume.\n\nThe cavils of the ruler and Christ's defence are the second part of\nthis incident. Note the blindness and cold-heartedness born of\nreligious formalism. This synagogue official has no eye for the\nbeauty of Christ's pity, no heart to rejoice in the woman's\ndeliverance, no ear for the music of her praise. All that he sees is\na violation of ecclesiastical order. That is the sin of sins in his\neyes. He admits the reality of Christ's healing power, but that does\nnot lead him to recognition of His mission. What a strange state of\nmind it was that acknowledged the miracle, and then took offence at\nits being done on the Sabbath!\n\nNote, too, his disingenuous cowardice in attacking the people when\nhe meant Christ. He blunders, too, in his scolding; for nobody had\ncome to be healed. They had come to worship; and even if they had\ncome for healing, the coming was no breach of Sabbath regulations,\nwhatever the healing might be. There are plenty of people like this\nstickler for propriety and form, and if you want to find men blind\nas bats to the manifest tokens of a divine hand, and hard as\nmillstones towards misery, and utterly incapable of glowing with\nenthusiasm or of recognising it, you will find them among\necclesiastical martinets, who are all for having 'things done\ndecently and in order,' and would rather that a hundred poor\nsufferers should continue bowed down than that one of their\nregulations should be broken in lifting them up. The more men are\nfilled with the spirit of worship, the less importance will they\nattach to the pedantic adherence to its forms, which is the most\npart of some people's religion.\n\nMark the severity, which is loving severity, of Christ's answer. He\nspeaks to all who shared the ruler's thoughts, of whom there were\nseveral present (v. 17, 'adversaries'). Piercing words which\ndisclose hidden and probably unconscious sins, are quite in place on\nthe lips into which grace was poured. Well for those who let Him\ntell them their faults now, and do not wait for the light of\njudgment to show themselves to themselves for the first time.\n\nWherein lay these men's hypocrisy? They were pretending zeal for the\nSabbath, while they were really moved by anger at the miracle, which\nwould have been equally unwelcome on any day of the week. They were\npretending that their zeal for the Sabbath was the result of their\nzeal for God, while it was only zeal for their Rabbinical niceties,\nand had no religious element in it at all. They wished to make the\nSabbath law tight enough to restrain Jesus from miracles, while they\nmade it loose enough to allow them to look after their own\ninterests.\n\nMen may be unconscious hypocrites, and these are the most hopeless.\nWe are all in danger of fancying that we are displaying our zeal for\nthe Lord, when we are only contending for our own additions to, or\ninterpretations of, His will. There is no religion necessarily\nimplied in enforcing forms of belief or conduct.\n\nOur Lord's defence is, first of all, a conclusive _argumentum ad\nhominem_, which shuts the mouths of the objectors; but it is much\nmore. The Talmud has minute rules for leading out animals on the\nSabbath: An ass may go out with his pack saddle if it was tied on\nbefore the Sabbath, but not with a bell or a yoke; a camel may go\nout with a halter, but not with a rag tied to his tail; a string of\ncamels may be led if the driver takes all the halters in his hand,\nand does not twist them, but they must not be tied to one another--and\nso on for pages. If, then, these sticklers for rigid observance of the\nSabbath admitted that a beast's thirst was reason enough for work to\nrelieve it, it did not lie in their mouths to find fault with the\nrelief of a far greater human need.\n\nBut the words hold a wider truth, applicable to our conduct. The\nrelief of human sorrow is always in season. It is a sacred duty\nwhich hallows any hour. 'Is not this the fast [and the feast too]\nthat I have chosen ... to let the oppressed go free, and that ye\nbreak every yoke?' The spirit of the words is to put the exercise of\nbeneficence high above the formalities of worship.\n\nNote, too, the implied assertion of the dignity of humanity, the\npitying tone of the 'lo, these eighteen years,' the sympathy of the\nLord with the poor woman, and the implication of the terrible\ntragedy of Satan's bondage. If we have His Spirit in us, and look at\nthe solemn facts of life as He did, all these pathetic\nconsiderations will be present to our minds as we behold the misery\nof men, and, moved by the thoughts of their lofty place in God's\nscheme of things, of their long and dreary bondage, of the evil\npower that holds them fast, and of what they may become, even sons\nand daughters of the Highest, we shall be fired with the same\nlonging to help which filled Christ's heart, and shall count that\nhour consecrated, and not profaned, in which we are able to bring\nliberty to the captives, and an upward gaze of hope to them that\nhave been bowed down.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STRAIT GATE\n\n\n    'And He went through the cities and villages, teaching,\n    and journeying toward Jerusalem. 23. Then said one unto\n    Him, Lord, are there few that be saved? And He said\n    unto them, 24. Strive to enter in at the strait gate:\n    for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and\n    shall not he able. 25. When once the Master of the\n    house is risen up, and hath shut to the door, and ye\n    begin to stand without, and to knock at the door,\n    saying, Lord, Lord, open unto us; and He shall answer\n    and say unto you, I know you not whence ye are:\n    26. Then shall ye begin to say, We have eaten and drunk\n    in Thy presence, and Thou hast taught in our streets.\n    27. But He shall say, I tell you, I know you not whence\n    ye are; depart from Me, all ye workers of iniquity.\n    28. There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when\n    ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the\n    prophets, in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves\n    thrust out. 29. And they shall come from the east, and\n    from the west, and from the north, and from the south,\n    and shall sit down in the kingdom of God. 30. And,\n    behold, there are last which shall be first and there\n    are first which shall be last.'--LUKE xiii. 22-30\n\n'Are there few that be saved?' The questioner's temper and motives\nmay be inferred from the tone of Christ's answer, which turns\nattention from a mere piece of speculative curiosity to the grave\npersonal aspect of the condition of 'salvation,' and the possibility\nof missing it. Whether few or many went in, there would be many left\nout, and among these some of the listeners. Jesus speaks to 'them,'\nthe multitude, not to the questioner. The men who approach solemn\nsubjects lightly, and use them as material for raising profitless\nquestions for the sake of getting religious teachers in a corner,\nexist still, and are best answered after Christ's manner.\n\nOf course, the speaker meant by being 'saved' participation in\nMessiah's kingdom, regarded in the carnal Jewish fashion; and our\nLord's reply is primarily directed to setting forth the condition of\nentrance into that kingdom, as the Jew expected it to be manifested\non earth. But behind that immediate reference lies a solemn\nunveiling of the conditions of salvation in its deepest meaning, and\nof the danger of exclusion from it.\n\nI. We note, first, the all-important exhortation with which Christ\nseeks to sober a frivolous curiosity. In its primary application, the\n'strait gate' may be taken to be the lowliness of the Messiah, and the\nconsequent sharp contrast of His kingdom with Jewish high-flown and\nfleshly hopes. The passage to the promised royalty was not through a\ngreat portal worthy of a palace, but by a narrow, low-browed wicket,\nthrough which it took a man trouble to squeeze. For us, the narrow\ngate is the self-abandonment and self-accusation which are\nindispensable for entrance into salvation.\n\n'The door of faith' is a narrow one; for it lets no self-righteousness,\nno worldly glories, no dignities, through. Like the Emperor at Canossa,\nwe are kept outside till we strip ourselves of crowns and royal robes,\nand stand clothed only in the hair-shirt of penitence. Like Milton's\nrebel angels entering their council chamber, we must make ourselves\nsmall to get in. We must creep on our knees, so low is the vault; we\nmust leave everything outside, so narrow is it. We must go in one by\none, as in the turnstiles at a place of entertainment. The door opens\ninto a palace, but it is too strait for any one who trusts to himself.\n\nThere must be effort in order to enter by it. For everything in our\nold self-confident, self-centred nature is up in arms against the\nconditions of entrance. We are not saved by effort, but we shall not\nbelieve without effort. The main struggle of our whole lives should\nbe to cultivate self-humbling trust in Jesus Christ, and to 'fight\nthe good fight of faith.'\n\nII. We note the reason for the exhortation. It is briefly given in\nverse 24 (last clause), and both parts of the reason there are\nexpanded in the following verses. Effort is needed for entrance,\nbecause many are shut out. The questioner would be no better for\nknowing whether few would enter, but he and all need to burn in on\ntheir minds that many will _not_.\n\nVery solemnly significant is the difference between _striving_\nand _seeking_. It is like the difference between wishing and\nwilling. There may be a seeking which has no real earnestness in it,\nand is not sufficiently determined, to do what is needful in order\nto find. Plenty of people would like to possess earthly good, but\ncannot brace themselves to needful work and sacrifice. Plenty would\nlike to 'go to heaven,' as they understand the phrase, but cannot\nscrew themselves to the surrender of self and the world. Vagrant,\nhalfhearted seeking, such as one sees many examples of, will never\nwin anything, either in this world or in the other. We must strive,\nand not only seek.\n\nThat is true, even if we do not look beyond time; but Jesus carries\nour awed vision onwards to the end of the days, in the expansion of\nhis warning, which follows in verses 25-27. No doubt, the words had\na meaning for His hearers in reference to the Messianic kingdom, and\na fulfilment in the rejection of the nation. But we have to discern\nin them a further and future significance.\n\nObserve that the scene suggested differs from the similar parable of\nthe virgins waiting for their Lord, in that it does not describe a\nwedding feast. Here it is a householder already in his house, and,\nat the close of the day, locking up for the night. Some of his\nservants have not returned in time, have not come in through the\nnarrow gate, which is now not only narrow, but closed by the\nmaster's own hand. The translation of that is that, by a decisive\nact of Christ's in the future, the time for entrance will he ended.\nAs in reference to each stage of life, specific opportunities are\ngiven in it for securing specific results, and these can never be\nrecovered if the stage is past; so mortal life, as a whole, is the\ntime for entrance, and if it is not used for that purpose, entrance\nis impossible. If the youth will not learn, the man will be\nignorant. If the sluggard will not plough because the weather is\ncold, he will 'beg in harvest.' If we do not strive to enter at the\ngate, it is vain to seek entrance when the Master's own hand has\nbarred it.\n\nThe language of our Lord here seems to shut us up to the conclusion\nthat life is the time in which we can gain our entrance. It is no\nkindness to suggest that perhaps He does not shut the door quite\nfast. We know, at all events, that it is wide open now.\n\nThe words put into the mouths of the excluded sufficiently define\ntheir characters, and the reasons why they sought in vain. Why did\nthey want to be in? Because they wished to get out of the cold\ndarkness into the warm light of the bountiful house. But they\nneither knew the conditions of entrance nor had they any desire\nafter the true blessings within. Their deficiencies are plainly\nmarked in their pleas for admission. At first, they simply ask for\nentrance, as if thinking that to wish was to have. Then, when the\nHouseholder says that He knows nothing about them, and cannot let\nstrangers in, they plead as their qualification that they had eaten\nand drunk in His presence, and that He had taught in their streets.\nIn these words, the relations of Christ's contemporaries are\ndescribed, and their immediate application to them is plain.\n\nOutward connection with Jesus gave no claim to share in His kingdom.\nWe have to learn the lesson which we who live amidst a widely\ndiffused, professing Christianity sadly need. No outward connection\nwith Christ, in Christian ordinances or profession, will avail to\nestablish a claim to have the door opened for us. A man may be a\nmost respectable and respected church-member, and have listened to\nChristian teaching all his days, and have in life a vague wish to be\n'saved,' and yet be hopelessly unfit to enter, and therefore\nirremediably shut out.\n\nThe Householder's answer, in its severity and calmness, indicates\nthe inflexible impossibility of opening to such seekers. It puts\nstress on two things--the absence of any vital relationship between\nHim and them, and their moral character. He knows nothing about\nthem, and not to be known by the Master of the house is necessarily\nto be shut out from His household. They are known of the Shepherd\nwho know Him and hear His voice. They who are not must stay in the\ndesert. Such mutual knowledge is the basis of all righteousness, and\nrighteousness is the essential condition of entrance.\n\nThese seekers are represented as still working iniquity. They had\nnot changed their moral nature. They wished to enter heaven, but\nthey still loved evil. How could they come in, even if the door had\nbeen open? Let us learn that, while faith is the door, without\nholiness no man shall see the Lord. The worker of iniquity has only\nan outward relation to Jesus. Inwardly he is separated from Him,\nand, at last, the outward relation will be adjusted to the inward,\nand departure from Him will be inevitable, and that is ruin.\n\nIII. Boldly and searchingly personal as the preceding words had\nbeen, the final turn of Christ's answer must have had a still\nsharper and more distasteful edge. He had struck a blow at Jewish\ntrust in outward connection with Messiah as ensuring participation\nin His kingdom. He now says that the Gentiles shall fill the vacant\nplaces. Many Jews will be unable to enter, for all their seeking,\nbut still there will be many saved; for troops of hated Gentiles\nshall come from every corner of the earth, and the sight of them\nsitting beside the fathers of the nation, while Israel after the\nflesh is shut out, will move the excluded to weeping--the token of\nsorrow, which yet has in it no softening nor entrance-securing\neffect, because it passes into 'gnashing of teeth,' the sign of\nanger. Such sorrow worketh death.\n\nSuch fierce hatred, joined with stiff-necked obstinacy, has\ncharacterised the Jew ever since Jerusalem fell. 'If God spared not\nthe natural branches, take heed lest He also spare not thee.' Israel\nwas first, and has become last. The same causes which sent it from\nthe van to the rear have worked like effects in 'Christendom,' as\nwitness Asia Minor and the mosques into which Christian churches\nhave been turned.\n\nThese causes will produce like effects wherever they become\ndominant. Any church and any individual Christian who trusts in\noutward connection with Christ, and works iniquity, will sooner or\nlater fall into the rear, and if repentance and faith do not lead it\nor him through the strait gate, will be among those 'last' who are\nso far behind that they are shut out altogether. Let us 'be not\nhigh-minded, but fear.'\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S MESSAGE TO HEROD\n\n\n    'And he said unto them, Go ye, and tell that fox,\n    Behold, I cast out devils, and I do cures to-day and\n    to-morrow, and the third day I shall be perfected.\n    33. Nevertheless I must walk to-day, and to-morrow,\n    and the day following: for it cannot be that a prophet\n    perish out of Jerusalem.'--LUKE xiii. 32, 33.\n\nEven a lamb might be suspicious if wolves were to show themselves\ntenderly careful of its safety. Pharisees taking Christ's life under\ntheir protection were enough to suggest a trick. These men came to\nChrist desirous of posing as counterworking Herod's intention to\nslay Him. Our Lord's answer, bidding them go and tell Herod what He\nimmediately communicates to them, shows that He regarded them as in\na plot with that crafty, capricious kinglet. And evidently there was\nan understanding between them. For some reason or other, best known\nto his own changeable and whimsical nature, the man who at one\nmoment was eagerly desirous to see Jesus, was at the next as eagerly\ndesirous to get Him out of his territories; just as he admired and\nmurdered John the Baptist. The Pharisees, on the other hand, desired\nto draw Him to Jerusalem, where they would have Him in their power\nmore completely than in the northern district. If they had spoken\nall their minds they would have said, 'Go hence, or else we cannot\nkill Thee.' So Christ answers the hidden schemes, and not the\napparent solicitude, in the words that I have taken for my text.\nThey unmask the plot, they calmly put aside the threats of danger.\nThey declare that His course was influenced by far other\nconsiderations. They show that He clearly saw what it was towards\nwhich He was journeying. And then, with sad irony, they declare that\nit, as it were, contrary to prophetic decorum and established usage\nthat a prophet should be slain anywhere but in the streets of the\nbloody and sacred city.\n\nThere are many deep things in the words, which I cannot touch in the\ncourse of a single sermon; but I wish now, at all events, to skim\ntheir surface, and try to gather some of their obvious lessons.\n\nI. First, then, note Christ's clear vision of His death.\n\nThere is some difficulty about the chronology of this period with\nwhich I need not trouble you. It is enough to note that the incident\nwith which we are concerned occurred during that last journey of our\nLord's towards Jerusalem and Calvary, which occupies so much of this\nGospel of Luke. At what point in that fateful journey it occurred\nmay be left undetermined. Nor need I enter upon the question as to\nwhether the specification of time in our text, 'to-day, and to-morrow,\nand the third day,' is intended to be taken literally, as some\ncommentators suppose, in which case it would be brought extremely\nnear the goal of the journey; or whether, as seems more probable from\nthe context, it is to be taken as a kind of proverbial expression for\na definite but short period. That the latter is the proper\ninterpretation seems to be largely confirmed by the fact that there\nis a slight variation in the application of the designation of time\nin the two verses of our text, 'the third day' in the former verse\nbeing regarded as the period of the perfecting, whilst in the latter\nverse it is regarded as part of the period of the progress towards\nthe perfecting. Such variation in the application is more congruous\nwith the idea that we have here to deal with a kind of proverbial\nexpression for a limited and short period. Our Lord is saying in\neffect, 'My time is not to be settled by Herod. It is definite, and\nit is short. It is needless for him to trouble himself; for in three\ndays it will be all over. It is useless for him to trouble himself,\nor for you Pharisees to plot, for until the appointed days are past\nit will not be over, whatever you and he may do.' The course He had\nyet to run was plain before Him in this last journey, every step of\nwhich was taken with the Cross full in view.\n\nNow the worst part of death is the anticipation of death; and it\nbecame Him who bore death for every man to drink to its dregs that\ncup of trembling which the fear of it puts to all human lips. We\nrightly regard it as a cruel aggravation of a criminal's doom if he\nis carried along a level, straight road with his gibbet in view at\nthe end of the march. But so it was that Jesus Christ travelled\nthrough life.\n\nMy text comes at a comparatively late period of His history. A few\nmonths or weeks at the most intervened between Him and the end. But\nthe consciousness which is here so calmly expressed was not of\nrecent origin. We know that from the period of His transfiguration\nHe began to give His death a very prominent place in His teaching,\nbut it had been present with Him long before He thus laid emphasis\nupon it in His communications with His disciples. For, if we accept\nJohn's Gospel as historical, we shall have to throw back His first\npublic references to the end to the very beginning of His career.\nThe cleansing of the Temple, at the very outset of His course, was\nvindicated by Him by the profound words, 'Destroy this Temple, and\nin three days I will raise it up.' During the same early visit to\nthe capital city He said to Nicodemus, 'As Moses lifted up the\nserpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted\nup.' So Christ's career was not like that of many a man who has\nbegun, full of sanguine hope as a possible reformer and benefactor\nof his fellows, and by slow degrees has awakened to the\nconsciousness that reformers and benefactors need to be martyrs ere\ntheir ideals can be realised. There was no disillusioning in\nChrist's experience. From the commencement He knew that He came, not\nonly to minister, but also 'to give His life a ransom for the many.'\nAnd it was _not_ a mother's eye, as a reverent modern painter\nhas profoundly, and yet erroneously, shown us in his great work in\nour own city gallery--it was not a mother's eye that first saw the\nshadow of the Cross fall on her unconscious Son, but it was Himself\nthat all through His earthly pilgrimage knew Himself to be the Lamb\nappointed for the sacrifice. This Isaac toiled up the hill, bearing\nthe wood and the knife, and knew where and who was the Offering.\n\nBrethren, I do not think that we sufficiently realise the importance\nof that element in our conceptions of the life of Jesus Christ. What\na pathos it gives to it all! What a beauty it gives to His\ngentleness, to His ready interest in others, to His sympathy for all\nsorrow, and tenderness with all sin! How wonderfully it deepens the\nsignificance, the loveliness, and the pathos of the fact that 'the\nSon of Man came eating and drinking,' remembering everybody but\nHimself, and ready to enter into all the cares and the sorrows of\nother hearts, if we think that all the while there stood, grim and\ncertain, before Him that Calvary with its Cross! Thus, through all\nHis path, He knew to what He was journeying.\n\nII. Then again, secondly, let me ask you to note here our Lord's own\nestimate of the place which His death holds in relation to His whole\nwork.\n\nNotice that remarkable variation in the expression in our text. 'The\nthird day I shall be _perfected_.... It cannot be that a\nprophet _perish_ out of Jerusalem.' Then, somehow or other, the\n'perishing' is 'perfecting.' There may be a doubt as to the precise\nrendering of the word translated by 'perfecting'; but it seems to me\nthat the only meaning congruous with the context is that which is\nsuggested by the translation of our Authorised Version, and that our\nLord does not mean to say 'on the third day I shall complete My work\nof casting out devils and curing diseases,' but that He masses the\nwhole of His work into two great portions--the one of which\nincludes all His works and ministrations of miracles and of mercy;\nand the other of which contains one unique and transcendent fact,\nwhich outweighs and towers above all these others, and is the\nperfecting of His work, and the culmination of His obedience,\nservice, and sacrifice.\n\nNow, of course, I need not remind you that the 'perfecting' thus\nspoken of is not a perfecting of moral character or of individual\nnature, but that it is the same perfecting which the Epistle to the\nHebrews speaks about when it says, 'Being made perfect, He became\nthe Author of eternal salvation to all them which obey Him.' That is\nto say, it is His perfecting in regard to office, function, work for\nthe world, and not the completion or elevation of His individual\ncharacter. And this 'perfecting' is effected in His 'perishing.'\n\nNow I want to know in what conceivable sense the death of Jesus Christ\ncan be the culmination and crown of His work, without which it would\nbe a torso, an incomplete fragment, a partial fulfilment of the\nFather's design, and of His own mission, unless it be that that death\nwas, as I take it the New Testament with one voice in all its parts\ndeclares it to be, a sacrifice for the sins of the world. I know of\nno construing of the fact of the death on the Cross which can do\njustice to the plain words of my text, except the old-fashioned\nbelief that therein He made atonement for sin, and thereby, as the\nLamb of God, bore away the sins of the world.\n\nOther great lives may be crowned by fair deaths, which henceforward\nbecome seals of faithful witness, and appeals to the sentiments of\nthe heart, but there is no sense that I know of in which from\nChrist's death there can flow a mightier energy than from such a\nlife, unless in the sense that the death is a sacrifice.\n\nNow I know there has been harm done by the very desire to exalt\nChrist's great sacrifice on the Cross; when it has been so separated\nfrom His life as that the life has not been regarded as a sacrifice,\nnor the death as obedience. Rather the sacrificial element runs\nthrough His whole career, and began when He became flesh and\ntabernacled amongst us; but yet as being the apex of it all, without\nwhich it were all-imperfect, and in a special sense redeeming men\nfrom the power of death, that Cross is set forth by His own word.\nFor Him to 'perish' was to 'be perfected.' As the ancient prophet\nlong before had said, 'When His soul shall make an offering for\nsin,' then, paradoxical as it may seem, the dead Man shall 'see,'\nand 'shall see His seed.' Or, as He Himself said, 'If a corn of\nwheat fall into the ground it abideth alone, but if it die it\nbringeth forth much fruit.'\n\nI do not want to insist upon any theories of Atonement. I do want to\ninsist that Christ's own estimate of the significance and purpose\nand issue of His death shall not be slurred over, but that,\nrecognising that He Himself regarded it as the perfecting of His\nwork, we ask ourselves very earnestly how such a conception can be\nexplained if we strike out of our Christianity the thought of the\nsacrifice for the sins of the world. Unless we take Paul's gospel,\n'How that He died for our sins according to the Scriptures,' I for\none do not believe that we shall ever get Paul's results, 'Old\nthings are passed away; all things are become new.' If you strike\nthe Cross off the dome of the temple, the fires on its altars will\nsoon go out. A Christianity which has to say much about the life of\nJesus, and knows not what to say about the death of Christ, will be\na Christianity that will neither have much constraining power in our\nlives, nor be able to breathe a benediction of peace over our\ndeaths. If we desire to be perfected in character, we must have\nfaith in that sacrificial death which was the perfecting of Christ's\nwork.\n\nIII. And so, lastly, notice our Lord's resolved surrender to the\ndiscerned Cross.\n\nThere is much in this aspect in the words of my text which I cannot\ntouch upon now; but two or three points I may briefly notice.\n\nNote then, I was going to say, the superb heroism of His calm\nindifference to threats and dangers. He will go hence, and relieve\nthe tyrant's dominions of His presence; but He is careful to make it\nplain that His going has no connection with the futile threatenings\nby which they have sought to terrify Him. 'Nevertheless'--although I\ndo not care at all for them or for him--'nevertheless I must journey\nto-day and tomorrow! But that is not because I fear death, but\nbecause I am going to My death; for the prophet must die in\nJerusalem.' We are so accustomed to think of the 'gentle Jesus, meek\nand mild' that we forget the 'strong Son of God.' If we were talking\nabout a man merely, we should point to this calm, dignified answer\nas being an instance of heroism, but we do not feel that that word\nfits Him. There are too many vulgar associations connected with it,\nto be adapted to the gentleness of His fixed purpose that blenched\nnot, nor faltered, whatsoever came in the way.\n\nLight is far more powerful than lightning. Meekness may be, and in\nHim was, wedded to a will like a bar of iron, and a heart that knew\nnot how to fear. If ever there was an iron hand in a velvet glove it\nwas the hand of Christ. And although the perspective of virtues\nwhich Christianity has introduced, and which Christ exhibited in His\nlife, gives prominence to the meek and the gentle, let us not forget\nthat it also enjoins the cultivation of the 'wrestling thews that\nthrow the world.' 'Quit you like men; be strong; let all your deeds\nbe done in charity.'\n\nThen note, too, the solemn law that ruled His life. 'I _must_\nwalk.' That is a very familiar expression upon His lips. From that\nearly day when He said, 'Wist ye not that I _must_ be about My\nFather's business,' to that last when He said, 'The Son of Man\n_must_ be lifted up,' there crops out, ever and anon, in the\noccasional glimpses that He allows us to have of His inmost spirit,\nthis reference of all His actions to a necessity that was laid upon\nHim, and to which He ever consciously conformed. That necessity\ndetermined what He calls so frequently 'My time; My hour'; and\ninfluenced the trifles, as they are called, as well as the great\ncrises, of His career. It was the Father's will which made the Son's\n_must_. Hence His unbroken communion and untroubled calm.\n\nIf we want to live near God, and if we want to have lives of peace\namidst convulsions, we, too, must yield ourselves to that all\nencompassing sovereign necessity, which, like the great laws of the\nuniverse, shapes the planets and the suns in their courses and their\nstations; and holds together two grains of dust, or two motes that\ndance in the sunshine. To gravitation there is nothing great and\nnothing small. God's _must_ covers all the ground of our lives,\nand should ever be responded to by our 'I will.'\n\nAnd that brings me to the last point, and that is, our Lord's glad\nacceptance of the necessity and surrender of the Cross. What was it\nthat made Him willing to take that 'must' as the law of His life?\nFirst, a Son's obedience; second, a Brother's love. There was no\npoint in Christ's career, from the moment when in the desert He put\naway the temptation to win the kingdoms of the world by other than\nthe God-appointed means, down to the last moment when on His dying\nears there fell another form of the same temptation in the taunt,\n'Let Him come down from the cross, and we will believe on Him'; when\nHe could not, if He had chosen to abandon His mission, have saved\nHimself. No compulsion, no outward hand impelling Him, drove Him\nalong that course which ended on Calvary; but only that He would\nsave others, and therefore 'Himself He cannot save.'\n\nTrue, there were natural human shrinkings, just as the weight and\nimpetus of some tremendous billow buffeting the bows of the ship\nmakes it quiver; but this never affected the firm hand on the\nrudder, and never deflected the vessel from its course. Christ's\n'soul was troubled,' but His will was fixed, and it was fixed by His\nlove to us. Like one of the men who in after ages died for His dear\nsake, He may be conceived as refusing to be bound to the stake by\nany bands, willing to stand there and be destroyed because He wills.\nNothing fastened Him to the Cross but His resolve to save the world,\nin which world was included each of us sitting listening and\nstanding speaking, now. Oh, brethren! shall not we, moved by such\nlove, with like cheerfulness of surrender, give ourselves to Him who\ngave Himself for us?\n\n\n\n\nTHE LESSONS OF A FEAST\n\n\n    'And it came to pass, as He went into the house of one\n    of the chief Pharisees to eat bread on the Sabbath day,\n    that they watched Him. 2. And, behold, there was a\n    certain man before Him which had the dropsy. 3. And\n    Jesus answering spake unto the lawyers and Pharisees,\n    saying, Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath day? 4. And\n    they held their peace. And He took him, and healed him,\n    and let him go; 5. And answered them, saying, Which of\n    you shall have an ass or an ox fallen into a pit, and\n    will not straightway pull him out on the Sabbath day?\n    6. And they could not answer Him again to these things.\n    7. And He put forth a parable to those which were\n    bidden, when He marked how they chose out the chief\n    rooms; saying unto them, 8. When thou art bidden of any\n    man to a wedding, sit not down in the highest room,\n    lest a more honourable man than thou be bidden of him;\n    9. And he that bade thee and him come and say to thee,\n    Give this man place; and thou begin with shame to take\n    the lowest room. 10. But when thou art bidden, go and\n    sit down in the lowest room; that when he that bade\n    thee cometh, he may say unto thee, Friend, go up\n    higher: then shalt thou have worship in the presence\n    of them that sit at meat with thee. 11. For whosoever\n    exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth\n    himself shall be exalted. 12. Then said He also to him\n    that bade Him, When thou makest a dinner or a supper,\n    call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy\n    kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbours; lest they also bid\n    thee again, and a recompense be made thee. 13. But when\n    thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the\n    lame, the blind: 14. And thou shalt be blessed; for\n    they cannot recompense thee: for thou shalt be\n    recompensed at the resurrection of the just.'\n    --LUKE xiv. 1-14.\n\nJesus never refused an invitation, whether the inviter were a\nPharisee or a publican, a friend or a foe. He never mistook the\ndisposition of His host. He accepted 'greetings where no kindness\nis,' and on this occasion there was none. The entertainer was a spy,\nand the feast was a trap. What a contrast between the malicious\nwatchers at the table, ready to note and to interpret in the worst\nsense every action of His, and Him loving and wishing to bless even\nthem! The chill atmosphere of suspicion did not freeze the flow of\nHis gentle beneficence and wise teaching. His meek goodness remained\nitself in the face of hostile observers. The miracle and the two\nparables are aimed straight at their errors.\n\nI. How came the dropsical man there? Possibly he had simply strayed\nin to look on at the feast, as the freedom of manners then would\npermit him to do. The absence of any hint that he came hoping for a\ncure, and of any trace of faith on his part, or of speech to him on\nChrist's, joined with his immediate dismissal after his cure, rather\nfavours the supposition that he had been put as the bait of the\ntrap, on the calculation that the sight of him would move Jesus to\nheal him. The setters of the snare were 'watching' whether it would\nwork, and Jesus 'answered' their thoughts, which were, doubtless,\nvisible in their eyes. His answer has three stages--a question which\nis an assertion, the cure, and another affirming question. All three\nare met with sulky silence, which speaks more than words would have\ndone. The first question takes the 'lawyers' on their own ground,\nand in effect asserts that to heal did not break the Sabbath. Jesus\nchallenges denial of the lawfulness of it, and the silence of the\nPharisees confesses that they dare not deny. 'The bare fact of\nhealing is not prohibited,' they might have said, 'but the acts\nnecessary for healing are.' But no acts were necessary for this\nHealer's power to operate. The outgoing of His will had power. Their\nfinespun distinctions of deeds lawful and unlawful were spiders'\nwebs, and His act of mercy flew high above the webs, like some fair\nwinged creature glancing in the sunshine, while the spider sits in\nhis crevice balked. The broad principle involved in Jesus' first\nquestion is that no Sabbath law, no so-called religious restriction,\ncan ever forbid helping the miserable. The repose of the Sabbath is\ndeepened, not disturbed, by activity for man's good.\n\nThe cure is told without detail, probably because there were no\ndetails to tell. There is no sign of request or of faith on the\nsufferer's part; there seems to have been no outward act on Christ's\nbeyond 'taking' him, which appears simply to mean that He called him\nnearer, and then, by a simple exercise of His will, healed him.\nThere is no trace of thanks or of wonder in the heart of the\nsufferer, who probably never had anything more to do with his\nbenefactor. Silently he comes on the stage, silently he gets his\nblessing, silently he disappears. A strange, sad instance of how\npossible it is to have a momentary connection with Jesus, and even\nto receive gifts from His hand, and yet to have no real, permanent\nrelation to Him!\n\nThe second question turns from the legal to a broader consideration.\nThe spontaneous workings of the heart are not to be dammed back by\nceremonial laws. Need calls for immediate succour. You do not wait\nfor the Sabbath's sun to set when your ox or your ass is in a pit.\n(The reading 'son' instead of 'ox,' as in the Revised Version\nmargin, is incongruous.) Jesus is appealing to the instinctive wish\nto give immediate help even to a beast in trouble, and implies that\nmuch more should the same instinct be allowed immediate play when\nits object is a man. The listeners were self-condemned, and their\nobstinate silence proves that the arrow had struck deep.\n\nII. The cure seems to have taken place before the guests seated\nthemselves. Then came a scramble for the most honourable places, on\nwhich He looked with perhaps a sad smile. Again the silence of the\nguests is noticeable, as well as the calm assumption of authority\nby Jesus, even among such hostile company. Where He comes a guest,\nHe becomes teacher, and by divine right He rebukes. The lesson is\ngiven, says Luke, as 'a parable,' by which we are to understand that\nour Lord is not here giving, as might appear if His words are\nsuperficially interpreted, a mere lesson of proper behaviour at a\nfeast, but is taking that behaviour as an illustration of a far\ndeeper thing. Possibly some too ambitious guest had contrived to\nseat himself in the place of honour, and had had to turn out, and,\nwith an embarrassed mien, had to go down to the very lowest place,\nas all the intermediate ones were full. His eagerness to be at the\ntop had ended in his being at the bottom. That is a 'parable,' says\nJesus, an illustration in the region of daily life, of large truths\nin morals and religion. It is a poor motive for outward humility and\nself-abasement that it may end in higher honour. And if Jesus was\nhere only giving directions for conduct in regard to men, He was\ninculcating a doubtful kind of morality. The devil's\n\n  darling sin\n  Is the pride that apes humility.'\n\nJesus was not recommending that, but what is crafty ambition,\nveiling itself in lowliness for its own purposes, when exercised in\noutward life, becomes a noble, pure, and altogether worthy, thing in\nthe spiritual sphere. For to desire to be exalted in the kingdom is\nwholly right, and to humble one's self with a direct view to that\nexaltation is to tread the path which He has hallowed by His own\nfootsteps. The true aim for ambition is the honour that cometh from\nGod only, and the true path to it is through the valley; for 'God\nresisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble.'\n\nIII. Unbroken silence still prevailed among the guests, but again\nJesus speaks as teacher, and now to the host. A guest does not\nusually make remarks on the composition of the company, Jesus could\nmake no 'recompense' to His entertainer, but to give him this\ncounsel. Again, He inculcated a wide general lesson under the guise\nof a particular exhortation appropriate to the occasion. Probably\nthe bulk of the guests were well-to-do people of the host's own\nsocial rank, and, as probably, there were onlookers of a lower\ndegree, like the dropsical man. The prohibition is not directed\nagainst the natural custom of inviting one's associates and equals,\nbut against inviting them only, and against doing so with a sharp\neye to the advantages to be derived from it. That weary round of\ngiving a self-regarding hospitality, and then getting a return\ndinner or evening entertainment from each guest, which makes up so\nmuch of the social life among us, is a pitiful affair, hollow and\nselfish. What would Jesus say--what does Jesus say--about it all?\nThe sacred name of hospitality is profaned, and the very springs of\nit dried up by much of our social customs, and the most literal\napplication of our Lord's teaching here is sorely needed.\n\nBut the words are meant as a 'parable,' and are to be widened out to\ninclude all sorts of kindnesses and helps given in the sacred name\nof charity to those whose only claim is their need. 'They cannot\nrecompense thee'--so much the better, for, if an eye to their doing\nso could have influenced thee, thy beneficence would have lost its\ngrace and savour, and would have been simple selfishness, and, as\nsuch, incapable of future reward. It is only love that is lavished\non those who can make no return which is so free from the taint of\nsecret regard to self that it is fit to be recognised as love in the\nrevealing light of that great day, and therefore is fit to be\n'recompensed in the resurrection of the just.'\n\n\n\n\nEXCUSES NOT REASONS\n\n\n    'They all with one consent began to make excuse.\n    --LUKE xiv. 18.\n\nJesus Christ was at a feast in a Pharisee's house. It was a strange\nplace for Him--and His words at the table were also strange. For He\nfirst rebuked the guests, and then the host; telling the former to\ntake the lower rooms, and bidding the latter widen his hospitality\nto those that could not recompense him. It was a sharp saying; and\none of the other guests turned the edge of it by laying hold of our\nLord's final words: 'Thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection\nof the just,' and saying, no doubt in a pious tone and with a devout\nshake of the head, 'Blessed is he that shall eat bread in the\nKingdom of God.' It was a very proper thing to say, but there was a\nring of conventional, commonplace piety about it, which struck\nunpleasantly on Christ's ear. He answers the speaker with that\nstrange story of the great feast that nobody would come to, as if He\nhad said, 'You pretend to think that it is a blessed thing to eat\nbread in the Kingdom of God, Why! You will not eat bread when it is\noffered to you.'\n\nI dare say you all know enough of the parable to make it unnecessary\nfor me to go over it. A great feast is prepared; invitations, more\nor less general, are sent out at first, everything is ready; and,\nbehold, there is a table, and nobody to sit at it. A strange\nexperience for a hospitable man! And so he sends his servants to\nbeat up the unwilling guests, and, one after another, with more or\nless politeness, refuses to come.\n\nI need not follow the story further. In the latter part of the\nparable our Lord shadows the transference of the blessings of the\nKingdom to the Gentiles, outcasts as the Jews thought them, skulking\nin the hedges and tramping on the highways. In the first part He\nforeshadows the failure of His own preaching amongst His own people.\nBut Jews and Englishmen are very much alike. The way in which these\ninvited guests treated the invitation to this feast is being\nrepeated, day by day, by thousands of men round us; and by some of\nourselves. 'They all, with one consent, began to make excuse.'\n\nI. The first thing that I would desire you to notice is the\nstrangely unanimous refusal.\n\nThe guests' conduct in the story is such as life and reality would\nafford no example of. No set of people, asked to a great banquet,\nwould behave as these people in the parable do. Then, is the\nintroduction of such an unnatural trait as this a fault in the\nconstruction of narrative? No! Rather it is a beauty, for the very\npoint of the story is the utter unnaturalness of the conduct\ndescribed, and the contrast that is presented between the way in\nwhich men regard the lower blessings from which these people are\nrepresented as turning, and in which they regard the loftier\nblessings that are offered. Nobody would turn his hack upon such a\nbanquet if he had the chance of going to it. What, then, shall we\nsay of those who, by platoons and regiments, turn their backs upon\nthis higher offer? The very preposterous unnaturalness of the\nconduct, if the parable were a true story, points to the deep\nmeaning that lies behind it: that in that higher region the\nunnatural is the universal, or all but universal.\n\nAnd, indeed, it is so. One would almost venture to say that there is\na kind of law according to which the more valuable a thing is the\nless men care to have it; or, if you like to put it into more\nscientific language, the attraction of an object is in the inverse\nratio to its worth. Small things, transitory things, material\nthings, everybody grasps at; and the number of graspers steadily\ndecreases as you go up the scale in preciousness, until, when you\nreach the highest of all, there are the fewest that want them. Is\nthere anything lower than good that merely gratifies the body? Is\nthere anything that the most of men want more? Are there many things\nlower in the scale than money? Are there many things that pull more\nstrongly? Is not truth better than wealth? Are there more pursuers\nof it than there are of the former? For one man who is eager to\nknow, and counts his life well spent, in following knowledge\n\n  'Like a sinking star,\n  Beyond the furthest bounds of human thought,'\n\nthere are a hundred who think it rightly expended in the pursuit\nafter the wealth that perishes. Is not goodness higher than truth,\nand are not the men that are content to devote themselves to\nbecoming wise more numerous than those that are content to devote\nthemselves to becoming pure? And, topmost of all, is there anything\nto be compared with the gifts that are held out to us in that great\nSaviour and in His message? And is there anything that the mass of\nmen pass by with more unanimous refusal than the offered feast which\nthe great King of humanity has provided for His subjects? What is\noffered for each of us, pressed upon us, in the gift of Jesus\nChrist? Help, guidance, companionship, restfulness of heart, power\nof obedience, victory over self, control of passions, supremacy over\ncircumstances, tranquillity deep and genuine, death abolished,\nHeaven opened, measureless hopes following upon perfect fruition,\nhere and hereafter. These things are all gathered into, and their\nvarious sparkles absorbed in, the one steady light of that one great\nencyclopaediacal word--Salvation. These gifts are going begging,\nlying at our doors, offered to every one of us, pressed upon all on\nthe simple condition of taking Christ for Saviour and King. And what\ndo we do with them? 'They all, with one consent, began to make\nexcuse.'\n\nOne hears of barbarous people that have no use for the gold that\nabounds in their country, and do not think it half as valuable as\nglass beads. That is how men estimate the true and the trumpery\ntreasures which Christ and the world offer. I declare it seems to me\nthat, calmly looking at men's nature, and their duration, and then\nthinking of the aims of the most of them, we should not be very far\nwrong if we said an epidemic of insanity sits upon the world. For\nsurely to turn away from the gold and to hug the glass beads is very\nlittle short of madness. 'This their way is their folly, and their\nposterity approve their sayings.'\n\nAnd now notice that this refusal may be, and often in fact is,\naccompanied with lip recognition of the preciousness of the\nneglected things. That Pharisee who put up the pillow of his pious\nsentiment--a piece of cant, because he did not feel what he was\nsaying--to deaden the cannon-ball of Christ's word, is only a\npattern of a good many of us who think that to say, 'Blessed is he\nthat eateth bread in the Kingdom of God,' with the proper unctuous\nroll of the voice, is pretty nearly as good as to take the bread\nthat is offered to us. There are no more difficult people to get at\nthan the people, of whom I am sure I have some specimens before me\nnow, who bow their heads in assent to the word of the Gospel, and by\nbowing them escape its impact, and let it whistle harmlessly over.\nYou that believe every word that I or my brethren preach, and never\ndream of letting it affect your conduct--if there be degrees in that\nlunatic asylum of the world, surely you are candidates for the\nhighest place.\n\nII. Now, secondly, notice the flimsy excuses.\n\n'They all, with one consent, began.' I do not suppose that they had\nlaid their heads together, or that our Lord intends us to suppose\nthat there was a conspiracy and concert of refusal, but only that\nwithout any previous consultation, all had the same sentiments, and\noffered substantially the same answer. All the reasons that are\ngiven come to one and the same thing--viz. occupation with present\ninterests, duties, possessions, or affections. There are differences\nin the excuses which are not only helps to the vividness of the\nnarrative, but also express differences in the speakers. One man is\na shade politer than the others. He puts his refusal on the ground\nof necessity. He 'must,' and so he courteously prays that he may be\nheld excused. The second one is not quite so polite; but still there\nis a touch of courtesy about him too. He does not pretend necessity\nas his friend had done, but he simply says, 'I _am_ going'; and\nthat is not quite so courteous as the former answer, but still he\nbegs to be excused. The last man thinks that he has such an\nundeniable reason that he may be as brusque as he likes, and so he\nsays, 'I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come' and I do\nnot make any apologies. So with varying degrees of apparent\nrecognition of the claims of host and feast, the ground of refusal\nis set forth as possessions in two cases, and as affections in the\nthird; and these so fill the men's hearts and minds that they have\nno time to attend to the call that summons them to the feast.\n\nNow it is obvious to note that the alleged necessity in one of these\nexcuses was no necessity at all. Who made the 'must'? The man himself.\nThe field would not run away though he waited till to-morrow. The\nbargain was finished, for he had bought it. There was no necessity\nfor his going, and the next day would have done quite as well as\nto-day; so the 'must' was entirely in his own mind. That is to say,\na great many of us mask inclinations under the garb of imperative\nduties and say, 'We are so pressed by necessary obligations and\nengagements that we really have not got any time to attend to these\nhigher questions which you are trying to press upon us.' You remember\nthe old story. 'I must live,' said the thief. 'I do not see the\nnecessity,' said the judge. A man says, 'I _must_ be at business\nto-morrow morning at half-past eight. How can I think about religion?'\nWell, if you really _must_, you _can_ think about it. But if you\nare only juggling and deceiving yourself with inclinations that pose as\nnecessities, the sooner the veil is off the better, and you understand\nwhereabouts you are, and what is your true position in reference to the\nGospel of Jesus Christ.\n\nBut then let me, only in a word, remind you that the other side of\nthe excuse is a very operative one. 'I have married a wife, and\ntherefore I cannot come.' There are some of us around whom the\nstrong grasp of earthly affections is flung so embracingly and\nsweetly that we cannot, as we think, turn our loves upward and fix\nthem upon God. Fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, parents and\nchildren, remember Christ's deep words, 'A man's foes shall be they\nof his own household'; and be sure that the prediction is fulfilled\nmany a time by the hindrances of their love even more than by the\nopposition of their hatred.\n\nAll these excuses refer to legitimate things. It is perfectly right\nthat the man should go and see after his field, perfectly right that\nthe ten bullocks should be harnessed and tried, perfectly right that\nthe sweetness of wedded love should be tasted and drunk, perfectly\nwrong that any of them should be put as a reason for not accepting\nChrist's offer. Let us take the lesson that legitimate business and\nlawful and pure affections may ruin a soul, and may constitute the\nhindrance that blocks its road to God.\n\nBrethren, I said that these were flimsy excuses. I shall have to\nexplain what I mean by that in a moment. As excuses they are flimsy;\nbut as reasons which actually operate with hundreds of people,\npreventing them from being Christians, they are not flimsy; they are\nmost solid and real. Our Lord does not mean them as exhaustive.\nThere are a great many other grounds upon which different types of\ncharacter turn away from the offered blessings of the Gospel, which\ndo not come within view of the parable. But although not exhaustive\nthey are widely operative. I wonder how many men and women there are\nlistening to me now of whom it is true that they are so busy with\ntheir daily occupations that they have not time to be religious, and\nof how many men, and perhaps more especially women, among us at this\nmoment it is true that their hearts are so ensnared with loves that\nbelong to earth--beautiful and potentially sacred and elevating as\nthese are--that they have not time to turn themselves to the one\neternal Lover of their souls. Let me beseech you, dear friends--and\nyou especially who are strangers to this place and to my voice--to\ndo what I cannot, and would not if I could, lay these thoughts on\nyour own hearts, and ask yourselves, 'Is it I?'\n\nAnd then before I pass from this point of my discourse, remember\nthat the contrariety between these duties and the acceptance of the\noffered feast existed only in the imagination of the men that made\nthem. There is no reason why you should not go to the feast and see\nafter your field. There is no reason why you should not love your\nwife and go to the feast. God's summons comes into collision with\nmany wishes, but with no duties or legitimate occupations. The more\na man accepts and lives upon the good that Jesus Christ spreads\nbefore him, the more fit will he be for all his work, and for all\nhis enjoyments. The field will be better tilled, the bullocks will\nbe better driven, the wife will be more wisely, tenderly, and\nsacredly loved if in your hearts Christ is enthroned, and whatsoever\nyou do you do as for Him. It is only the excessive and abusive\npossession of His gifts and absorption in our duties and relations\nthat turns them into impediments in the path of our Christian life.\nAnd the flimsiness of the excuse is manifest by the fact that the\ncontrarity is self-created.\n\nIII. Lastly, note the real reason.\n\nI have said that as pretexts the three explanations were\nunsatisfactory. When a man pleads a previous engagement as a reason\nfor not accepting an invitation, nine times out of ten it is a\npolite way of saying, 'I do not want to go.' It was so in this case.\nHow all these absolute impossibilities, which made it perfectly out\nof the question that the three recreants should sit down at the\ntable, would have melted into thin air if, by any chance, there had\ncome into their minds a wish to be there! They would have found\nmeans to look after the field and the cattle and the home, and to be\nin their places notwithstanding, if they had wanted. The real reason\nthat underlies men's turning away from Christ's offer is, as I said\nin the beginning of my remarks, that they do not care to have it.\nThey have no inclinations and no tastes for the higher and purer\nblessings.\n\nBrother, do not let us lose ourselves in generalities. I am talking\nabout you, and about the set of your inclinations and tastes. And I\nwant you to ask yourself whether it is not a fact that some of you\nlike oxen better than God; whether it is not a fact that if the two\nwere there before you, you would rather have a good big field made\nover to you than have the food that is spread upon that table.\n\nWell then what is the cause of the perverted inclination? Why is it\nthat when Christ says, 'Child, come to Me, and I will give thee\npardon, peace, purity, power, hope, Heaven, Myself,' there is no\nresponsive desire kindled in the heart? Why do I not want God? Why\ndo I not care for Jesus Christ? Why do the blessings about which\npreachers are perpetually talking seem to me so shadowy, so remote\nfrom anything that I need, so ill-fitting to anything that I desire?\nThere must be something very deeply wrong. This is what is wrong,\nyour heart has shaken itself loose from dependence upon God; and you\nhave no love as you ought to have for Him. You prefer to stand\nalone. The prodigal son, having gone away into the far country,\nlikes the swine's husks better than the bread in his father's house,\nand it is only when the supply of the latter coarse dainty gives out\nthat the purer taste becomes strong. Strange, is it not? but yet it\nis true.\n\nNow there are one or two things that I want to say about this\nindifference, resulting from preoccupation and from alienation, and\nwhich hides its ugliness behind all manner of flimsy excuses. One is\nthat the reason itself is utterly unreasonable. I have said the true\nreason is indifference. Can anybody put into words which do not\nbetray the absurdity of the position, the conduct of the man who\nsays, 'I do not want God; give me five yoke of oxen. That is the\nreal good, and I will stick by that.' There is one mystery in the\nworld, and if it were solved everything would be solved; and that\nmystery is that men turn away from God and cleave to earth. No\naccount can be given of sin. No account can be given of man's\npreference for the lesser and the lower; and neglect of the greater\nand the higher, except to say it is utterly inexplicable and\nunreasonable.\n\nI need not say such indifference is shameful ingratitude to the\nyearning love which provides, and the infinite sacrifice by which\nwas provided, this great feast to which we are asked. It cost Christ\npains, and tears, and blood, to prepare that feast, and He looks to\nus, and says to us, 'Come and drink of the wine which I have\nmingled, and eat of the bread which I have provided at such a cost.'\nThere are monsters of ingratitude, but there are none more\nmiraculously monstrous than the men who look, as some of us are\ndoing, untouched on Christ's sacrifice, and listen unmoved to\nChrist's pleadings.\n\nThe excuses will disappear one day. We can trick our consciences; we\ncan put off the messengers; we cannot deceive the Host. All the thin\ncurtains that we weave to veil the naked ugliness of our\nunwillingness to accept Christ will be burnt up one day. And I pray\nyou to ask yourselves, 'What shall I say when He comes and asks me,\n\"Why was thy place empty at My table\"?' 'And he was speechless.' Do\nnot, dear brethren, refuse that gift, lest you bring upon yourselves\nthe terrible and righteous wrath of the Host whose invitation you\nare slighting, and at whose table you are refusing to sit.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RASH BUILDER\n\n\n    'Which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not\n    down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have\n    sufficient to finish it?'--LUKE xiv. 28.\n\nChrist sought for no recruits under false pretences, but rather\ndiscouraged than stimulated light-hearted adhesion. His constant\neffort was to sift the crowds that gathered round Him. So here great\nmultitudes are following Him, and how does He welcome them? Does He\nlay Himself out to attract them? Luke tells us that He _turned_\nand faced the following multitude; and then, with a steady hand,\ndrenched with cold water the too easily kindled flame. Was that\nbecause He did not wish them to follow Him? He desired every soul in\nthat crowd for His own, and He knew that the best way to attract is\nsometimes to repel; and that a plain statement of the painful\nconsequences of a course will quench no genuine enthusiasm, but may\nturn a mere flash in the pan into a purpose that will flame through\na life.\n\nSo our Lord lays down in stringent words the law of discipleship as\nbeing self-sacrifice; the abandonment of the dearest, and the\nacceptance of the most painful. And then He illustrates the law by\nthese two expanded similes or condensed parables, of the rash\nbuilder and the rash soldier. Each contains a side of the Christian\nlife, and represents one phase of what a true disciple ought to be.\nI wish to look with you now at the first of these two comparisons.\n\nI. Consider then, first, the building, or the true aim of\ndiscipleship.\n\nThe building of the tower represents what every human life ought to\naim at, the rearing up of a strong, solid structure in which the\nbuilder may dwell and be at rest.\n\nBut then remember we are always building, consciously or\nunconsciously. By our transitory actions we are all rearing up a\nhouse for our souls in which we have to dwell; building character\nfrom out of the fleeting acts of conduct, which character we have to\ncarry with us for ever. Soft invertebrate animals secrete their own\nshells. That is what we are doing-making character, which is the\nshield of self, as it were; and in which we have to abide.\n\nMy friend, what are you building? A prison; a mere garden-house of\nlustful delights; or a temple fortress in which God may dwell\nreverenced, and you may abide restful? Observe that whilst all men\nare thus unconsciously and habitually rearing up a permanent abode\nby their transient actions, every life that is better than a brute's\nought to have for its aim the building up of ourselves into firm\nstrength. The development of character is what we ought to ask from,\nand to secure by, this fleeting life of ours. Not enjoyment; that is\na miserable aim. Not the satisfaction of earthly desires; not the\nprosperity of our business or other ordinary avocations. The demand\nthat we should make upon life, and the aim which we should have\nclearly before us in all that we do, is that it may contribute to\nthe formation of a pure and noble self, to the development of\ncharacter into that likeness to Jesus Christ, which is perfection\nand peace and blessedness.\n\nAnd while that is true about all life, it is eminently true in\nregard to the highest form of life, which is the Christian life.\nThere are dreadful mistakes and imperfections in the ordinary vulgar\nconception of what a Christian is, and what he is a Christian for.\nWhat do you think men and women are meant to be Christians for? That\nthey may get away from some material and outward hell? Possibly.\nThat they may get celestial happiness? Certainly. But are these the\nmain things? By no means. What people are meant to be Christians for\nis that they may be shaped into the likeness of Jesus Christ; or to\ngo back to the metaphor of my text, the meaning and aim of Christian\ndiscipleship is not happiness, but the building up of the tower in\nwhich the man may dwell.\n\nAh, friend; is that your notion of what a Christian is; and of what\nhe is a Christian for, to be like the Master? Alas! alas! how few of\nus, honestly and continually and practically, lay to heart the\nstringent and grand conception which underlies this metaphor of our\nLord's, who identifies the man that was thinking of being His\ndisciple with the man that sits down intending to build a tower.\n\nII. So, secondly, note the cost of the building, or the conditions\nof discipleship.\n\nBuilding is an expensive amusement, as many a man who has gone\nrashly in for bricks and mortar has found out to his cost. And the\nmost expensive of all sorts of building is the building up of\nChristian character. That costs more than anything else, but there\nare a number of other things less noble and desirable, which share\nwith it, to some extent, in the expenditure which it involves.\n\nDiscipleship demands constant reference to the plan. A man that\nlives as he likes, by impulse, by inclination, or ignobly yielding\nto the pressure of circumstances and saying, 'I could not help\nmyself, I was carried away by the flood,' or 'Everybody round about\nme is doing it, and I could not be singular'--will never build\nanything worth living in. It will be a born ruin--if I may so say.\nThere must be continual reference to the plan. That is to say, if a\nman is to do anything worth doing, there must be a very clear marking\nout to himself of what he means to secure by life, and a keeping of\nthe aim continually before him as his guide and his pole-star. Did\nyou ever see the pretty architect's plans, that were all so white and\nneat when they came out of his office, after the masons have done with\nthem-all thumb-marked and dirty? I wonder if your Bibles are like\nthat? Do we refer to the standard of conduct with  anything like the\ncontinual checking of our work by the architect's intention, which\nevery man who builds anything that will stand is obliged to practise?\nConsult your plan, the pattern of your Master, the words of your\nRedeemer, the gospel of your God, the voice of judgment and conscience,\nand get into the habit of living, not like a vegetable, upon what\nhappens to be nearest its roots, nor like a brute, by the impulses of\nthe unreasoning nature, but clear above these put the understanding,\nand high above that put the conscience, and above them all put the\nwill of the Lord. Consult your plan if you want to build your tower.\n\nThen, further, another condition is continuous effort. You cannot\n'rush' the building of a great edifice. You have to wait till the\nfoundations get consolidated, and then by a separate effort every\nstone has to be laid in its bed and out of the builder's hands. So\nby slow degrees, with continuity of effort, the building rises.\n\nNow there has been a great deal of what I humbly venture to call\none-sidedness talked about the way by which Christian character is\nto be developed and perfected. And one set of the New Testament\nmetaphors upon that subject has been pressed to the exclusion of the\nothers, and the effortless growth of the plant has been presented as\nif it were the complete example of Christian progress. I know that\nJesus Christ has said: 'First the blade, then the ear; after that\nthe full corn in the ear.' But I know that He has also said, 'Which\nof you, intending to build a tower'--and that involves the idea of\neffort; and that He has further said, 'Or what king, going to make\nwar against another king'--and that involves the idea of antagonism\nand conflict. And so, on the whole, I lay it down that this is one\nof the conditions of building the tower, that the energy of the\nbuilder should never slacken, but, with continual renewal of effort,\nhe should rear his life's building.\n\nAnd then, still further, there is the fundamental condition of all;\nand that is, self-surrender. Our Lord lays this down in the most\nstringent terms in the words before my text, where He points to two\ndirections in which that spirit is required to manifest itself. One\nis detachment from persons that are dearest, and even from one's own\nselfish life; the other is the acceptance of things that are most\ncontrary to one's inclinations, against the grain, painful and hard\nto bear. And so we may combine these two in this statement: If any\nman is going to build a Christlike life he will have to detach\nhimself from surrounding things and dear ones, and to crucify self\nby suppression of the lower nature and the endurance of evils. The\npreceding parable which is connected in subject with the text, the\nstory of the great supper, and the excuses made for not coming to\nit, represents two-thirds of the refusals as arising from the undue\nlove for, and regard to, earthly possessions, and the remaining\nthird as arising from the undue love to, and regard for, the\nlegitimate objects of affection. And these are the two chords that\nhold most of us most tightly. It is not Christianity alone, dear\nbrethren, that says that if you want to do anything worth doing, you\nmust detach yourself from outward wealth. It is not Christianity\nalone that says that, if you want to build up a noble life, you must\nnot let earthly love dominate and absorb your energy; but it is\nChristianity that says so most emphatically, and that has best\nreason to say so.\n\nConcentration is the secret of all excellence. If the river is to\nhave any scour in it that will sweep away pollution and corruption,\nit must not go winding and lingering in many curves, howsoever\nflowery may be the banks, nor spreading over a broad bed, but you\nmust straighten it up and make it deep that it may run strong. And\nif you will diffuse yourself all over these poor, wretched worldly\ngoods, or even let the rush of your heart's outflow go in the\ndirection of father and mother, wife and children, brethren and\nsisters, forgetting Him, then you will never come to any good nor be\nof use in this world. But if you want to be Christians after\nChrist's pattern, remember that the price of the building is rigidly\nto sacrifice self, 'to scorn delights and live laborious days,' and\nto keep all vagrant desires and purposes within rigid limits, and\nabsolutely subordinated to Himself.\n\nOn the other hand, there is to be the acceptance of what is painful\nto the lower nature. Unpleasant consequences of duty have to be\nborne, and the lower self, with its appetites and desires, has to be\ncrucified. The vine must be mercilessly pruned in tendrils, leaves,\nand branches even, though the rich sap may seem to bleed away to\nwaste, if we are to grow precious grapes out of which may be\nexpressed the wine of the Kingdom. We must be dead to much if we are\nto be alive to anything worth living for.\n\nNow remember that Christ's demand of self-surrender, self-sacrifice,\ncontinuous effort, rigid limitation, does not come from any mere\nfalse asceticism, but is inevitable in the very nature of the case,\nand is made also by all worthy work. How much every one of us has\nhad to shear off our lives, how many tastes we have had to allow to\ngo ungratified, how many capacities undeveloped, in how many\ndirections we have had to hedge up our way, and not do, or be this,\nthat, or the other; if we have ever done anything in any direction\nworthy the doing! Concentration and voluntary limitation, in order\nto fix all powers on the supreme aim which judgment and conscience\nhave enjoined is the condition of all excellence, of all sanity of\nliving, and eminently of all Christian discipleship.\n\nIII. Further, note the failures.\n\nThe tower of the rash builder stands a gaunt, staring ruin.\n\nWhosoever throws himself upon great undertakings or high aims,\nwithout a deliberate forecast of the difficulties and sacrifices\nthey involve, is sure to stop almost before he has begun. Many a man\nand woman leaves the starting-point with a rush, as if they were\ngoing to be at the goal presently, and before they have run fifty\nyards turn aside and quietly walk out of the course. I wonder how\nmany of you began, when you were lads or girls, to study some\nlanguage, and stuck before you had got through twenty pages of the\ngrammar, or to learn some art, and have still got the tools lying\nunused in a dusty corner. And how many of you who call yourselves\nChristians began in the same fashion long ago to run the race? 'Ye\ndid run well.' What did hinder you? What hindered Atalanta?  The\ngolden apples that were flung down on the path. Oh, the Church is\nfull of these abortive Christians; ruins from their beginning,\nstanding gaunt and windowless, the ground-plan a great palace, the\nreality a hovel that has not risen a foot for the last ten years. I\nwonder if there are any stunted Christians of that sort in this\ncongregation before me, who began under the influence of some\nimpulse or emotion, genuine enough, no doubt, but who had taken no\naccount of how much it would cost to finish the building. And so the\nbuilding is not finished, and never will be.\n\nBut I should remark here that what I am speaking about as failure is\nnot incomplete attainment of the aim. For all our lives have to\nconfess that they incompletely attain their aim; and lofty aims,\nimperfectly realised, and still maintained, are the very salt of\nlife, and beautiful 'as the new moon with a ragged edge, e'en in its\nimperfection beautiful.' Paul was an old man and an advanced\nChristian when he said, 'Not as though I had already attained,\neither were already perfect, but I follow after.' And the highest\ncompleteness to which the Christian builder can reach in this life\nis the partial accomplishment of his aim and the persistent\nadherence to and aspiration after the unaccomplished aim. It is not\nthese incomplete but progressive and aspiring lives that are\nfailures, but it is the lives of men who have abandoned high aims,\nand have almost forgotten that they ever cherished them.\n\nAnd what does our Lord say about such? That everybody laughs at\nthem. It is not more than they deserve. An out-and-out Christian\nwill often be disliked, but if he is made a mock of there will be a\n_soup\u00e7on_ of awe and respect even in the mockery. Half-and-half\nChristians get, and richly deserve, the curled lip and sarcasm of a\nworld that knows when a man is in earnest, and knows when he is an\nincarnate sham.\n\nIV. Lastly, I would have you observe the inviting encouragement\nhidden in the apparent repelling warning.\n\nIf we read my text isolated, it may seem as if the only lesson that\nour Lord meant to be drawn from it was a counsel of despair. 'Unless\nyou feel quite sure that you can finish, you had better not begin.'\nIs that what He meant to say? I think not. He did mean to say, 'Do\nnot begin without opening your eyes to what is involved in the\nbeginning.' But suppose a man had taken His advice, had listened to\nthe terms, and had said, 'I cannot keep them, and I am going to\nfling all up, and not try any more'--is that what Jesus Christ\nwanted to bring him to? Surely not. And that it is not so arises\nplainly enough from the observation that this parable and the\nsucceeding one are both sealed up, as it were, with 'So likewise,\nwhosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he\ncannot be My disciple.'\n\nNow, if I may so say, there are two kinds of 'forsaking all that we\nhave.' One is the forsaking by which we become disciples; and the\nother the forsaking by which we continue true disciples. The\nconviction that they had not sufficient to finish is the very\nconviction that Christ wished to root in the minds of the crowds.\nHe exhibits the difficulties in order that they may feel they cannot\ncope with them. What then? That they may 'forsake' all their own\npower to cope with them.\n\nThat is the first kind of 'forsaking all that we have.' That makes a\ndisciple. The recognition of my own utter impotence to do the things\nwhich yet I see must be done, is the underside of trust in Him. And\nthat trust in Him brings the power that makes it possible for us to\ndo the things which we cannot of ourselves do, and the consciousness\nof the impotence to do which is the first step toward doing them. It\nis the self-sufficient man who is sure to be bankrupt before he has\nfinished his building; but he who has no confidence in himself, and\nrecognises the fact that he cannot build, will go to Jesus Christ\nand say, 'Lord, I am poor and needy. Come Thou Thyself and be my\nstrength.' Such a forsaking of all that we have in the recognition\nof our own poverty and powerlessness brings into the field an Ally\nfor our reinforcement that has more than the twenty thousand that\nare coming against us, and will make us strong.\n\nAnd then, if, knowing our weakness, our misery, our poverty, and\ncleaving to Jesus Christ in simple confidence in His divine power\nbreathed into our weakness, and His abundant riches lavished upon\nour poverty, we cast ourselves into the work to which He calls us by\nHis grace, then we shall find that the sweet and certain assurance\nthat we have Him for the possession and the treasure of our lives\nwill make parting with everything else, not painful, but natural and\nnecessary and a joy, as the expression of our supreme love to Him.\nIt should not, and would not be difficult to fling away paste gems\nand false riches if our hands were filled with the jewels that\nChrist bestows. And it will not be difficult to slay the old man\nwhen the new Christ lives in us, by our faith and submission.\n\nSo, dear brethren, it all comes to this. We are all builders; what\nkind of a work is your life's work going to turn out? Are you\nbuilding on the foundation, taking Jesus Christ for the anchor of\nyour hope, for the basis of your belief, for the crown of your aims,\nfor your all and in all? Are you building upon Him? If so, then the\nbuilding will stand when the storm comes and the 'hail sweeps away\nthe refuges' that other men have built elsewhere. But are you\nbuilding on that foundation the gold of self-denial, the silver of\nwhite purity, the precious stones of variously-coloured and\nChristlike virtues? Then your work will indeed be incomplete, but\nits very incompleteness will be a prophecy of the time when 'the\nheadstone shall be brought forth with shoutings'; and you may humbly\ntrust that the day which 'declares every man's work of what sort it\nis' will not destroy yours, but that it will gleam and flash in the\nlight of the revealing and reflecting fires. See to it that you are\nbuilding _for_ eternity, _on_ the foundation, _with_ the fair stones\nwhich Jesus Christ gives to all those who let Him shape their lives. He\nis at once, Architect, Material, Foundation; and in Him 'every several\nbuilding fitly framed together groweth into a holy temple in the Lord.'\n\n\n\n\n'THAT WHICH WAS LOST'\n\n\n    'An hundred sheep ... ten pieces of silver,... two\n    sons.'--LUKE XV. 4,8,11.\n\nThe immediate occasion of these three inimitable parables, which have\nfound their way to the heart of the world, needs to be remembered in\norder to grasp their import and importance. They are intended to\nvindicate Christ's conduct in associating with outcasts and\ndisreputable persons whom His Pharisaical critics thought a great\ndeal too foul to be touched by clean hands. They were not meant to\nset forth with anything like completeness either what wanderers had\nto do to go back to God, or what God had done to bring wanderers back\nto Himself. If this had been remembered, many misconceptions,\nwidespread and mischievous, especially affecting the meaning of the\nlast of the three parables--that of the Prodigal Son--would have been\navoided. The purpose of the parables accounts for Christ's accepting\nthe division which His antagonists made of men, into 'righteous,' like\nthemselves, and 'unclean,' like the publicans and sinners. There was a\nfar deeper truth to be spoken about the condition of humanity than\nthat. But for the purposes of His argument Christ passes it by. The\nremembrance of the intention of the parables explains their\nincompleteness as a statement of what people call 'the way of\nsalvation.' They were not meant to teach us that, but they were meant\nto show us that a human instinct which prizes lost things because they\nare lost has something corresponding to it in the divine nature, and\nso to vindicate the conduct of  Christ.\n\nI venture to isolate these three statements of the subjects of the\nparables, because I think that looking at the threefold aspect in\nwhich the one general thought is presented may help us to some\nuseful considerations.\n\nI. I ask you, then, to look with me, first, at the varying causes of\nloss.\n\nThe sheep was lost, the _drachma_ was lost, the son was lost.\nBut in each case the reason for the loss was different. Whilst I\nwould avoid all fanciful inserting into our Lord's words of more\nthan they can fairly bear, I would also avoid superficial evacuating\nthem of any of their depth of significance. So I think it is not\nunintentional nor unimportant that in these three metaphors there\nare set forth three obviously distinct operative causes for man's\ndeparture from God.\n\nThe sheep did not intend to go anywhere, either to keep with or to\nleave the shepherd. It simply knew that grass was sweet, and that\nthere, ahead of it, was another tuft, and it went after that. So it\nnibbled itself away out of the path, out of the shepherd's care, out\nof the flock's companionship. It was heedless; and therefore it was\nlost.\n\nNow that is a fair statement of facts in regard to thousands of men,\nof whom I have no doubt there are some listening to me now. They do\nnot intend any mischief, they have no purpose of rebellion or\ntransgression, but they live what we call animal lives. The sheep\nknows only where the herbage is abundant and fresh: and it goes\nthere. An animal has no foresight, and is the happier because it\ncannot look before and after. It has only a rudimentary conscience,\nif it has that. Its inclinations are restrained by no sense of\nobligation. Many men live just so, without restraint upon appetite,\nwithout checking of inclination, without foresight except of the\nmaterial good which a certain course of conduct may get. So, all\nunwitting, meaning no mischief, they wander further and further from\nthe right road, and find themselves at last in a waterless desert.\n\nDear friends, am I speaking to any now who have too much yielded to\ninclinations, who have been unwilling to look forward to the end,\nand ask themselves what all will come to at the last, and who\nscarcely know what it is to take heed unto their ways, except in so\nfar as worldly prudence may dictate certain courses of conduct for\nthe purpose of securing certain worldly and perishable ends? I would\nplead, especially with the younger portion of my congregation, to\ntake the touching picture of this first parable as a solemn prophecy\nof what certainly befalls every man who sets out upon his path\nwithout careful consideration  of whither it leads to at the last;\nand who lives for the present, in any of its forms, and who lets\nhimself be led by inclinations or appetites. The animal does so,\nand, as a rule, its instincts are its sufficient guide. But you and\nI are blessed or cursed, as the case may be, with higher powers,\nwhich, if we do not use, we shall certainly land in the desert. If a\nman who is meant to guide himself by intelligence, reason, will,\nforesight, conscience, chooses to go down to the level of the beast,\nthe faculties that serve the beast will not serve the man. And even\nthe sheep is lost from the flock if it yields only to these.\n\nBut how it speaks of the Lord's tender sympathy for the wanderers\nthat He should put in the forefront of the parables this explanation\nof the condition of men, and should not at first charge it upon them\nas sin, but only as heedlessness and folly! There is much that in\nitself is wrong and undesirable, the criminality of which is\ndiminished by the fact that it was heedlessly done, though the\nheedlessness itself is a crime.\n\nNow turn to the second parable. The coin was heavy, so it fell; it\nwas round, so it rolled; it was dead, so it lay. And there are\npeople who are things rather than persons, so entirely have they\ngiven up their wills, and so absolutely do they let themselves be\ndetermined by circumstances. It was not the _drachma_ that lost\nitself, but it was the law of gravitation that lost it, and it had\nno power of resistance. This also is an explanation--partial, as I\nshall have to show you in a moment, but still real,--of a great deal\nof human wandering. There are masses of men who have no more power\nto resist the pressure of circumstances and temptations than the\npiece of silver had when it dropped from the woman's open palm and\ntrundled away into some dark corner. That lightens the darkness of\nmuch of the world's sin.\n\nBut for you to abnegate the right and power of resisting\ncircumstances is to abdicate the sovereignty with which God has\ncrowned you. All men are shaped by externals, but the shape which\nthe externals impose upon us is settled by ourselves. Here are two\nmen, for instance, exposed to precisely the same conditions: but one\nof them yields, and is ruined; the other resists, and is raised and\nstrengthened. As Jesus Christ, so all things have a double\noperation. They are 'either a savour of life unto life or a savour\nof death unto death.' There is the stone. You may build upon it, or\nyou may stumble over it: you take your choice. Here is the adverse\ncircumstance. You may rule it, or you may let it rule you.\nCircumstances and outward temptations are the fool's masters, and\nthe wise man's servants. It all depends on the set of the sail and\nthe firmness of the hand that grasps the tiller, which way the wind\nshall carry the ship. The same breeze speeds vessels on directly\nopposite courses, and so the same circumstances may drive men in two\ncontrary directions, sending the one further and further away from,\nand drawing the other nearer and nearer to, the haven of their\nhearts.\n\nDear friends, as we have to guard against the animal life of\nyielding to inclinations and inward impulse, of forgetting the\nfuture, and of taking no heed to our paths, so, unless we wish to\nruin ourselves altogether, we have to fight against the mechanical\nlife which, with a minimum of volition, lets the world do with us\nwhat it will. And sure I am that there are men and women in this\naudience at this time who have let their lives be determined by\nforces that have swept them away from God.\n\nIn the third parable the foolish boy had no love to his father to\nkeep him from emigrating. He wanted to be his own master, and to get\naway into a place where he thought he could sow his wild oats and no\nnews of it ever reach the father's house. He wanted to have the\nfingering of the money, and to enjoy the sense of possession. And so\nhe went off on his unblessed road to the harlots and the swine's\ntrough.\n\nAnd _that_ is no parable; that is a picture. The other two were\nparabolical representations; this is the thing itself. For\ncarelessness of the bonds that knit a heart to God; hardness of an\nunresponsive heart unmelted by benefits; indifference to the\nblessedness of living by a Father's side and beneath His eye; the\nuprising of a desire of independence and the impatience of control;\nthe exercise of self will--these are causes of loss that underlie\nthe others of which I have been speaking, and which make for every\none of us the essential sinfulness of our sin. It is rebellion, and\nit is rebellion against a Father's love.\n\nNow, notice, that whilst the other two that we have been speaking\nabout do partially explain the terrible fact that we go away from\nGod, their explanation is only partial, and this grimmer truth\nunderlies them. There are modern theories, as there were ancient\nones, that say: 'Oh! sin is a theological bugbear. There is not any\nsuch thing. It is only indifference, ignorance, error.' And then\nthere are other theorists that say: 'Sin! There is no sin in\nfollowing natural laws and impulses. Circumstances shape men;\nheredity shapes them. The notion that their actions are criminal is\na mere figment of an exploded superstition.'\n\nYes! and down below the ignorance, and inadvertence, and error, and\nheredity, and domination of externals, there lies the individual\nchoice in each case. The man knows--however he sophisticates\nhimself, or uses other people to provide him with sophistries--that\nhe need not have done that thing unless he had chosen to do it. You\ncannot get beyond or argue away that consciousness. And so I say\nthat all these immoral teachings, which are very common to-day, omit\nfrom the thing that they profess to analyse the very characteristic\nelement of it, which is, as our Lord taught us, not the following\ninclination like a silly sheep; not the rolling away, in obedience\nto natural law, like the drachma; but the rising up of a rebellious\nwill that desires a separation, and kicks against control, as in the\ncase of the son.\n\nSo, dear friends, whilst I thankfully admit that much of the\ndarkness of human conduct may be lightened by the representations of\nour two first parables, I cannot but feel that we have to leave to\nGod the determination in each case of how far these have diminished\nindividual criminality; and that we have to remember for ourselves\nthat our departure from God is not explicable unless we recognise\nthe fact that we have chosen rather to be away from Him than to be\nwith Him; and that we like better to have our goods at our own\ndisposal, and to live as it pleases ourselves.\n\nII. So note, secondly, the varying proportions of loss and\npossession.\n\nA hundred sheep; ten drachmas; two sons. The loss in one case is 1\nper cent., a trifle; in the other case 10 per cent., more serious;\nin the last case 50 per cent., heartbreaking. Now, I do not suppose\nthat our Lord intended any special significance to be attached to\nthese varying numbers. Rather they were simply suggested by the cast\nof the parable in which they respectively occurred. A hundred sheep\nis a fair average flock; ten pieces of silver are the modest hoard\nof a poor woman; two sons are a family large enough to represent the\ncontrast which is necessary to the parable. But still we may\npermissibly look at this varying proportion in order to see whether\nit, too, cannot teach us something.\n\nIt throws light upon the owner's care and pains in seeking. In one\naspect, these are set forth most strikingly by the parable in which\nthe thing lost bears the smallest proportion to the thing still\nretained. The shepherd might well have said: 'One in a hundred does\nnot matter much. I have got the ninety and nine.' But he went to\nlook for it. But, in another aspect, the woman, of course, has a\nmore serious loss to face, and possibly seeks with more anxiety. And\nwhen you come up to the last case, where half the household is\nblotted out, as it were, then we can see the depth of anxiety and\npains and care which must necessarily follow.\n\nBut beyond the consideration that the ascending proportion suggests\nincreasing pains and anxiety, there is another lesson, which seems\nto me even more precious, and it is this, that it matters very\nlittle to the loser how much he keeps, or what the worth of the lost\nthing is. There is something in human nature which makes anything\nthat is lost precious by reason of its loss. Nobody can tell how\nlarge a space a tree fills until it is felled. If you lose one tiny\nstone out of a ring, or a bracelet, it makes a gap, and causes\nannoyance altogether disproportionate to the lustre that it had when\nit was there. A man loses a small portion of his fortune in some\nunlucky speculation, and the loss annoys him a great deal more than\nthe possession solaced him, and he thinks more about the hundreds\nthat have vanished than about the thousands that remain. Men are\nmade so. It is a human instinct, that apart altogether from the\nconsideration of its intrinsic worth, and the proportion it bears to\nthat which is still possessed, the lost thing draws, and the loser\nwill take any pains to find it.\n\nSo Christ says, When a woman will light a candle and sweep the house\nand search diligently till she finds her lost sixpence (for the\ndrachma was worth little more), and will bring in all her neighbours\nto rejoice with her, that is like God; and the human instinct which\nprizes lost things, not because of their value, but because they are\nlost, has something corresponding to it in the heart of the Majesty\nof the heavens. It is Christ's vindication, of course, as I need not\nremind you, of His own conduct. He says in effect, to these\nPharisees, 'You are finding fault with Me for doing what we all do.\nI am only acting in accordance with a natural human instinct; and\nwhen I thus act God Himself is acting in and through Me.'\n\nIf I had time, I think I could show that this principle, brought out\nin my texts, really sweeps away one of the difficulties which modern\nscience has to suggest against Evangelical Christianity. We hear it\nsaid, 'How can you suppose that a speck of a world like this, amidst\nall these flaming orbs that stud the infinite depths of the heavens,\nis of so much importance in God's sight that His Son came down to\ndie for it?' The magnitude of the world, as compared with others,\nhas nothing to do with the question. God's action is determined by\nits moral condition. If it be true that here is sin, which rends men\naway from Him, and that so they are lost, then it is supremely\nnatural that all the miracles of the Christian revelation should\nfollow. The _rationale_ of the Incarnation lies in this, 'A\ncertain man had a hundred sheep.... One of them went astray ... and\nHe went into the wilderness and found it.'\n\nIII. Now I meant to have said a word about the varying glimpses that\nwe have here, into God's claims upon us, and His heart.\n\nOwnership is the word that describes His relation to us in the first\ntwo parables; love is the word that describes it in the third. But\nthe ownership melts into love, because God does not reckon that He\npossesses men by natural right of creation or the like, unless they\nyield their hearts to Him, and give themselves, by their own joyful\nself-surrender, into His hands. But I must not be tempted to speak\nupon that matter; only, before I close, let me point you to that\nmost blessed and heart-melting thought, that God accounts Himself to\nhave lost something when a man goes away from Him.\n\nThat word 'the lost' has another, and in some senses a more\ntragical, significance in Scripture. The lost are lost to themselves\nand to blessedness. The word implies destruction; but it also\ncarries with it this, that God prizes us, is glad to have us, and, I\nwas going to say, feels an incompleteness in His possessions when\nmen depart from Him.\n\nOh, brethren, surely such a thought as that should melt us; and if,\nas is certainly the case, we have strayed away from Him into green\npastures, which have ended in a wilderness, without a blade of\ngrass; or if we have rolled away from Him in passive submission to\ncircumstances; or if we have risen up in rebellion against Him, and\nclaimed our separate right of possession and use of the goods that\nfall to us, if we would only think that He considers that He has\nlost us, and prizes us because we are lost to Him, and wants to get\nus back again, surely, surely it would draw us to Himself. Think of\nthe greatness of the love into which the ownership is merged, as\nmeasured by the infinite price which He has paid to bring us back,\nand let us all say, 'I will arise and go to my Father.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRODIGAL AND HIS FATHER\n\n\n    'And He said, A certain man had two sons: 12. And the\n    younger of them said to his father, Father, give me\n    the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he\n    divided unto them his living. 13. And not many days\n    after the younger son gathered all together, and took\n    his journey into a far country, and there wasted his\n    substance with riotous living. 14. And when he had\n    spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land;\n    and he began to be in want. 15. And he went and joined\n    himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him\n    into his fields to feed swine. 16. And he would fain\n    have filled his belly with the husks that the swine\n    did eat: and no man gave unto him. 17. And when he\n    came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of\n    my father's have bread enough, and to spare, and I\n    perish with hunger! 18. I will arise and go to my\n    father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned\n    against Heaven, and before thee, 19. And am no more\n    worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy\n    hired servants. 20. And he arose, and came to his\n    father. But when he was yet a great way off, his\n    father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell\n    on his neck, and kissed him. 21. And the son said unto\n    him, Father, I have sinned against Heaven, and in thy\n    sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.\n    22. But the father said to his servants, Bring forth\n    the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on\n    his hand, and shoes on his feet: 23. And bring hither\n    the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be\n    merry: 24. For this my son was dead, and is alive\n    again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to\n    be merry.'--LUKE xv. 11-24.\n\nThe purpose of the three parables in this chapter has to be kept in\nmind. Christ is vindicating His action in receiving sinners, which\nhad evoked the murmurings of the Pharisees. The first two parables,\nthose of the lost sheep and the lost drachma, appeal to the common\nfeeling which attaches more importance to lost property just because\nit is lost than to that which is possessed safely. This parable\nrises to a higher level. It appeals to the universal emotion of\nfatherhood, which yearns over a wandering child just because he has\nwandered.\n\nWe note a further advance, in the proportion of one stray sheep to\nthe ninety-nine, and of one lost coin to the nine, contrasted with\nthe sad equality of obedience and disobedience in the two sons. One\nper cent., ten per cent., are bearable losses, but fifty per cent.\nis tragic.\n\nI. The first part (vs. 11-16) tells of the son's wish to be his own\nmaster, and what came of it. The desire to be independent is good,\nbut when it can only be attained by being dependent on him whose\nauthority is irksome, it takes another colour. This foolish boy\nwished to be able to use his father's property as his own, but he\nhad to get the father's consent first. It is a poor beginning of\nindependence when it has to be set up in business by a gift.\n\nThat is the essential absurdity in our attempts to do without God\nand to shake off His control. We can only get power to seem to do it\nby misusing His gifts. When we say, 'Who is Lord over us?' the\ntongues which say it were given us by Him. The next step soon\nfollowed. 'Not many days after,' of course, for the sense of\nownership could not be kept up while near the father. A man who\nwishes to enjoy worldly good without reference to God is obliged, in\nself-defence, to hustle God out of his thoughts as soon and as\ncompletely as possible.\n\nThe 'far country' is easily reached; and it is far, though a step\ncan land us in it. A narrow bay may compel a long journey round its\nhead before those on its opposite shores can meet. Sin takes us far\naway from God, and the root of all sin is that desire of living to\none's self which began the prodigal's evil course.\n\nThe third step in his downward career, wasting his substance in riotous\nliving, comes naturally after the two others; for all self-centred life\nis in deepest truth waste, and the special forms of gross dissipation\nto which youth is tempted are only too apt to follow the first sense\nof being their own masters, and removed from the safeguards of their\nearthly father's home. Many a lad in our great cities goes through the\nvery stages of the parable, and, when a mother's eye is no longer on\nhim, plunges into filthy debauchery. But living which does not outrage\nthe proprieties may be riotous all the same; for all conduct which\nignores God and asserts self as supreme is flagrantly against the\nvery nature of man, and is  reckless waste.\n\nSuch a 'merry' life is sure to be 'short.' There is always famine in\nthe land of forgetfulness of God, and when the first gloss is off\nits enjoyments, and one's substance is spent, its pinch is felt. The\nunsatisfied hunger of heart, which dogs godless living, too often\nleads but to deeper degradation and closer entanglement with low\nsatisfactions. Men madly plunge deeper into the mud in hope of\nfinding the pearl which has thus far eluded their search.\n\nA miserable thing this young fool had made of his venture, having\nspent his capital, and now being forced to become a slave, and being\nset to nothing better than to feed swine. The godless world is a\nhard master, and has very odious tasks for its bondsmen. The unclean\nanimals are fit companions for one who made himself lower than they,\nsince filth is natural to them and shameful for him. They are better\noff than he is, for husks do nourish them, and they get their fill,\nbut he who has sunk to longing for swine's food cannot get even\nthat. The dark picture is only too often verified in the experience\nof godless men.\n\nII. The wastrel's returning sanity is described in verses 17-20_a_.\n'He came to himself.' Then he had been beside himself before. It is\ninsanity to try to shake off God, to aim at independence, to wander\nfrom Him, to fling away our 'substance,' that is, our true selves,\nand to starve among the swine-troughs. He remembers the bountiful\nhousekeeping at home, as starving men dream of feasts, and he thinks\nof himself with a kind of pity and amazement.\n\nThere is no sign that his conscience smote him, or that his heart\nwoke in love to his father. His stomach, and it only, urged him to\ngo home. He did, indeed, feel that he had been wrong, and had\nforfeited the right to be called a son, but he did not care much for\nlosing that name, or even for losing the love to which it had the\nright, if only he could get as much to eat as one of the hired\nservants, whose relation to the master was less close, and, in\npatriarchal times, less happy, than that of slaves born in the\nhouse.\n\nOne good thing about the lad was that he did not let the grass grow\nunder his feet, but, as soon as he had made the resolution, began to\ncarry it into effect. The bane of many a resolve to go back to God\nis that it is 'sicklied o'er' by procrastination. The ragged\nprodigal has not much to leave which need hold him, but many such a\none says, 'I will arise and go to my father to-morrow,' and lets all\nthe to-morrows become yesterdays, and is sitting among the swine\nstill.\n\nLow as the prodigal's motive for return was, the fact of his return\nwas enough. So is it in regard to our attitude to the gospel. Men\nmay be drawn to give heed to its invitations from the instinct of\nself-preservation, or from their sense of hungry need, and the\nbelief that in it they will find the food they crave for, while\nthere may be little consciousness of longing for more from the\nFather than the satisfaction of felt wants. The longing for a place\nin the Father's heart will spring up later, but the beginning of\nmost men's taking refuge in God as revealed in Christ is the gnawing\nof a hungry heart. The call to all is, 'Ho, every one that\nthirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come\nye, buy, and eat.'\n\nIII. The climax of the parable, for which all the rest is but as\nscaffolding, is the father's welcome (vs. 20_b_-24). Filial\nlove may die in the son's heart, but paternal yearning lives in the\nfather's. The wanderer's heart would be likely to sink as he came\nnearer the father's tent. It had seemed easy to go back when he\nacted the scene in imagination, but every step homewards made the\nreality more difficult.\n\nNo doubt he hesitated when the old home came in sight, and perhaps\nhis resolution would have oozed out at his finger ends if he had had\nto march up alone in his rags, and run the gauntlet of servants\nbefore he came to speech with his father. So his father's seeing him\nfar off and running to meet him is exquisitely in keeping, as well\nas movingly setting forth how God's love goes out to meet His\nreturning prodigals. That divine insight which discerns the first\nmotions towards return, that divine pity which we dare venture to\nassociate with His infinite love, that eager meeting the shamefaced\nand slow-stepping boy half-way, and that kiss of welcome before one\nword of penitence or request had been spoken, are all revelations of\nthe heart of God, and its outgoings to every wanderer who sets his\nface to return.\n\nBeautifully does the father's welcome make the son's completion of\nhis rehearsed speech impossible. It does not prevent his expression\nof penitence, for the more God's love is poured over us, the more we\nfeel our sin. But he had already been treated as a son, and could\nnot ask to be taken as a servant. Beautifully, too, the father gives\nno verbal answer to the lad's confession, for his kiss had answered\nit already; but he issues instructions to the servants which show\nthat the pair have now reached the home and entered it together.\n\nThe gifts to the prodigal are probably significant. They not only\nexpress in general the cordiality of the welcome, but seem to be\ncapable of specific interpretations, as representing various aspects\nof the blessed results of return to God. The robe is the familiar\nemblem of character. The prodigal son is treated like the high-priest\nin Zechariah's vision; his rags are stripped off, and he is clothed\nanew in a dress of honour. 'Them he also justified: and whom he\njustified, them he also sanctified.' The ring is a token of wealth,\nposition, and honour. It is also a sign of delegated authority, and\nis an ornament to the hand. So God gives His prodigals, when they\ncome back, an elevation which unforgiven beings do not reach, and\nsets them to represent Him, and arrays them in strange beauty. No\ndoubt the lad had come back footsore and bleeding, and the shoes\nmay simply serve to keep up the naturalness of the story. But probably\nthey suggest equipment for the journey of life. That is one of the\ngifts that accompany forgiveness. Our feet are shod with the\npreparedness of the gospel of peace.\n\nLast of all comes the feast. Heaven keeps holiday when some poor\nwaif comes shrinking back to the Father. The prodigal had been\ncontent to sink his sonship for the sake of a loaf, but he could not\nget bread on such terms. He had to be forgiven and bathed in the\noutflow of his father's love before he could be fed; and, being thus\nreceived, he could not but be fed. The feast is for those who come\nback penitently, and are received forgivingly, and endowed richly by\nthe Father in heaven.\n\n\n\n\nGIFTS TO THE PRODIGAL\n\n\n    '... Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and\n    put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: 23. And\n    bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it....'\n    --LUKE XV. 22, 23.\n\nGod's giving always follows His forgiving. It is not so with us. We\nthink ourselves very magnanimous when we pardon; and we seldom go on\nto lavish favours where we have overlooked faults. Perhaps it is right\nthat men who have offended against men should earn restoration by acts,\nand should have to ride quarantine, as it were, for a time. But I\nquestion whether forgiveness is ever true which is not, like God's,\nattended by large-hearted gifts. If pardon is only the non-infliction\nof penalty, then it is natural enough that it should be considered\nsufficient by itself, and that the evildoer should not be rewarded\nfor having been bad. But if pardon is the outflow of the love of the\noffended to the offender, then it can scarcely be content with simply\ngiving the debtor his discharge, and turning him into the world\npenniless.\n\nHowever that may be with regard to men, God's forgiveness is\nessentially the communication of God's love to us sinners, as if we\nhad never sinned at all. And, that being so, that love cannot stay\nits working until it has given all that it can bestow or we can\nreceive. God does not do things by halves; and He always gives when\nHe forgives.\n\nNow that is the great truth of the last part of this immortal\nparable. And it is one of the points in which it differs from, and\ntowers high above, the two preceding ones. The lost sheep was\ncarried back to the pastures, turned loose there, needed no further\nspecial care, and began to nibble as if nothing had happened. The\nlost drachma was simply put back in the woman's purse. But the lost\nson was pardoned, and, being pardoned, was capable of receiving, and\nreceived, greater gifts than he had before. These gifts are very\nremarkably detailed in the words of our text.\n\nNow, of course, it is always risky to seek for a spiritual\ninterpretation of every point in a parable, many of which points are\nmere drapery. But, on the other hand, we may very easily fall into the\nerror of treating as insignificant details which really are meant to\nbe full of instruction. And I cannot help thinking--although many\nwould differ from me,--that this detailed enumeration of the gifts\nto the prodigal is meant to be translated into the terms of spiritual\nexperience. So I desire to look at them as suggesting for us the\ngifts of God which accompany forgiveness. I take the catalogue as\nit stands--the Robe, the Ring, the Shoes, the Feast.\n\nI. First, the Robe.\n\n'Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him.' That was the\ncommand. This detail, of course, like all the others, refers back\nto, and casts light upon, the supposed condition of the spendthrift\nwhen he came back. There he stood, ragged, with the stain of travel\nand the stench of the pig-sty upon his garments, some of them, no\ndoubt, remains of the tawdry finery that he had worn in the world;\nwine-spots, and stains, and filth of all sorts on the rags. The\nfather says, 'Take them all off him, and put the best robe upon\nhim.' What does that mean?\n\nWell, we all know the very familiar metaphor by which qualities of\nmind, traits of character, and the like are described as being the\ndress of the spirit. We talk about being 'arrayed in purity,' 'clad\nin zeal,' 'clothed with humility,' 'vested with power,' and so on.\nIf we turn to Scripture, we find running through it a whole series\nof instances of this metaphor, which guide us at once to its true\nmeaning. Zechariah saw in vision the high priest standing at the\nheavenly tribunal, clad in filthy garments. A voice said, 'Take away\nthe filthy garments from him,' and the interpretation is added:\n'Behold! I have caused thine iniquity to pass from thee, and I will\nclothe thee with a change of raiment.' You remember our Lord's\nparable of the man with a wedding garment. You remember the Apostle\nPaul's frequent use of the metaphor of 'putting off the old man,\nputting on the new.' You remember, finally, the visions of the last\ndays, in which the Seer in Patmos saw the armies in heaven that\nfollowed their victorious Commander, 'clothed in fine linen, white and\npure, which is the righteousness of the saints.' If we put all these\ntogether, surely I am not forcing a meaning on a non-significant\ndetail, when I say that here we have shadowed for us the great thought,\nthat the result of the divine forgiveness coming upon a man is that he\nis clothed with a character which fits him to sit down at his Father's\ntable. They tell us that forgiveness is impossible, because things\ndone must have their consequences, and that character is the slow\nformation of actions, precipitated, as it were, from our deeds. That\nis all true. But it does not conflict with this other truth that there\nmay and does come into men's hearts, when they set their faith on\nJesus Christ, a new power which transforms the nature and causes\nold things to pass away.\n\nGod's forgiveness revolutionises a life. Similar effects follow even\nhuman pardons for small offences. Brute natures are held in by\npenalties, and to them pardon means impunity, and impunity means\nlicence, and licence means lust. But wherever there is a heart with\nlove to the offended in it, there is nothing that will so fill it\nwith loathing of its past self as the assurance that the offended,\nthough loved, One loves, and is not offended, and that free\nforgiveness has come. Whether is it the rod or the mother's kiss\nthat makes a child hate its sin most? And if we lift our thoughts to\nHim, and think how He, up there in the heavens,\n\n 'Who mightest vengeance best have took,'\n\nbends over us in frank, free forgiveness, then surely that, more\nthan all punishments or threatenings or terrors, will cause us to\nturn away from our evil, and to loathe the sins which are thus\nforgiven. The prophet went very deep when he said, 'Thou shalt be\nashamed and confounded, and never open thy mouth any more because of\nthine iniquity, when I am pacified towards thee for all that thou\nhast done, saith the Lord.'\n\nBut not only so, there is given along with forgiveness, and wrapped\nup in it, a new power, which makes all things new, and changes a\nman. It would be a poor Gospel for me to stand up and preach if I\nhad only to proclaim to men the divine forgiveness; and if that only\nmeant that hell's door was barred and some outward heaven was flung\nopen. But the true Gospel offers forgiveness as preliminary to the\nbestowal of the highest gifts of God. The pardoned man is stripped\nof his rags and clothed with a new nature which God Himself bestows.\n\nThat is what we all need. We have not all been in the pig-sty; we\nhave not all fallen into gross sin. We _have_ all turned our\nbacks on our Father; we _have_ all wanted to be independent; we\n_have_ all preferred the far-off land to being near home. And,\ndear brethren, the character that you have made for yourselves\nclings to you like the poisoned Nessus' shirt to Hercules. You\ncannot strip it off. You may get part of it away, but you cannot\nentirely cast it from your limbs, nor free yourselves from the\nentanglements of its tatters. Go to God, and He will smile away your\nsin, and His forgiving love will melt the stains and the evil, as\nthe sun this morning drank up the mists; and they who come knowing\nthemselves to be foul, and needing forgiveness, will surely receive\nfrom Him 'the fine linen white and pure, the righteousness of\nsaints.'\n\nII. The Ring.\n\nThis prodigal lad only wanted to be placed in the position of a\nslave, but his father said, 'Put a ring on his finger.' The ring is\nan emblem of wealth, position, honour; that is one signification of\nthis gift to the penitent. Still further, it is an ornament to the\nhand on which it glistens; that is another. It is a sign of\ndelegated authority and of representative character; as when Joseph\nwas exalted to be the second man in Egypt, and Pharaoh's signet ring\nwas plucked off and placed upon his finger. All these thoughts are,\nas it seems to me, clustered in, and fairly deducible from, this one\ndetail.\n\nFreedom, exaltation, dignity of position are expressed. And that\nopens up a thought which needs to be set forth with many\nreservations, and much guarding, but still is true--viz., that, by\nthe mercy and miraculous loving-kindness and quickening power of God\nin the Gospel, it is possible that the lower a man falls the higher\nhe may rise. I know, of course, that it is better to be innocent\nthan to be cleansed. I know, and every man that looks into his own\nheart knows, that forgiven sins may leave scars; that the memory may\nbe loaded with many a foul and many a painful remembrance; that the\nfetters may be stricken off the limbs, but the marks of them, and\nthe way of walking that they compelled, may persist long after\ndeliverance. But I know, too, that redeemed men are higher in final\nposition than angels that never fell; and that, though it is too\nmuch to say that the greater the sinner the greater the saint, it\nstill remains true that sin repented and forgiven may be, as it\nwere, an elevation upon which a man may stand to reach higher than,\napparently, he otherwise would in the divine life.\n\nAnd so, though I do not say to any man, Make the experiment; for,\nindeed, the poorest of us has sins enough to get all the benefit out\nof repentance and forgiveness which is included in them, yet, if\nthere is any man here--and I hope there is--saying to himself,\n'I have got too low down ever to master this, that, or the other\nevil; I have stained myself so foully that I cannot hope to have the\nblack marks erased,' I say to such; 'Remember that the man who ended\nwith a ring on his finger, honoured and dignified, was the man that\nhad herded with pigs, and stank, and all but rotted, with his\nfleshly crimes.' And so nobody need doubt but that for him, however\nlow he has gone, and however far he has gone, there is restoration\npossible to a higher dignity than the pure spirits that never\ntransgressed at any time God's commandment will ever attain; for he\nwho has within himself the experience of repentance, of pardon, and\nwho has come into living contact with Jesus Christ as Redeemer, can\nteach angels how blessed it is to be a child of God.\n\nNor less distinctly are the other two things which I have referred\nto brought out in this metaphor. Not only is the ring the sign of\ndignity, but it is also the sign of delegated authority and\nrepresentative character. God sets poor penitents to be His\nwitnesses in His world, and to do His work here. And a ring is an\nornament to the hand that wears it; which being translated is this:\nwhere God gives pardon, He gives a strange beauty of character, to\nwhich, if a man is true to himself, and to his Redeemer, he will\nassuredly attain. There should be no lives so lovely, none that\nflash with so many jewelled colours, as the lives of the men and\nwomen who have learned what it is to be miserable, what it is to\nrepent, what it is to be forgiven. So, though our 'hands have been\nfull of blood,' as the prophet says, though they have dabbled in all\nmanner of pollution, though they have been the ready instruments of\nmany evil things, we may all hope that, cleansed and whitened, even\nour hands will not want the lustre of that adornment which the\nloving father clasped upon the fingers of his penitent boy.\n\nIII. Further, 'Shoes on his feet.'\n\nNo doubt he had come back barefooted and filthy and bleeding, and it\nwas needful for the 'keeping' of the narrative that this detail\nshould appear. But I think it is something more than drapery.\n\nDoes it not speak to us of equipment for the walk of life? God\n_does_ prepare men for future service, and for every step that\nthey have to take, by giving to them  His forgiveness for all that\nis past. The sense of the divine pardon will in itself fit a man, as\nnothing else will, for running with patience the race that is set\nbefore him. God does communicate, along with His forgiveness, to\nevery one who seeks it, actual power to 'travel on life's common way\nin cheerful godliness'; and his feet are 'shod with the preparedness\nof the gospel of peace.'\n\nAh, brethren, life is a rough road for us all, and for those whose\nfaces are set towards duty, and God, and self-denial, it is\nespecially so, though there are many compensating circumstances.\nThere are places where sharp flints stick up in the path and cut the\nfeet. There are places where rocks jut out for us to stumble over.\nThere are all the trials and sorrows that necessarily attend upon\nour daily lives, and which sometimes make us feel as if our path\nwere across heated ploughshares, and every step was a separate\nagony. God will give us, if we go to Him for pardon, that which will\ndefend us against the pains and the sorrows of life. The bare foot\nis cut by that which the shod foot tramples upon unconscious.\n\nThere are foul places on all our paths, over which, when we pass, if\nwe have not something else than our own naked selves, we shall\ncertainly contract defilement. God will give to the penitent man, if\nhe will have it, that which will keep his feet from soil, even when\nthey walk amidst filth. And if, at any time, notwithstanding the\ndefence, some mud should stain the foot, and he that is washed needs\nagain to wash his feet, the Master, with the towel and the basin,\nwill not be far away.\n\nThere are enemies and dangers in life. A very important part of the\nequipment of the soldier in antiquity was the heavy boot, which\nenabled him to stand fast, and resist the rush of the enemy. God\nwill give to the penitent man, if he will have it, that which will\nset his foot upon a rock, 'and establish his goings,' and which\n'will make him able to withstand in the evil day, and having done\nall, to stand.'\n\nBrethren, defence, stability, shielding from pains, and protection\nagainst evil are all included in this great promise, which each of\nus may realise, if we will, for ourselves.\n\nIV. Lastly, the Feast.\n\nNow that comes into view in the parable, mainly as teaching us the\ngreat truth that Heaven keeps holiday, when some poor waif comes\nshrinking back to his Father. But I do not touch upon that truth\nnow, though it is the main significance of this last part of the\nstory.\n\nThe prodigal was half starving, and the fatted calf was killed 'for\nhim,' as his ill-conditioned brother grumbled. Remember what it was\nthat drove him back--not his heart, nor his conscience, but his\nstomach. He did not bethink himself to go back, because dormant\nfilial affection woke up, or because a sense that he had been wrong\nstirred in him, but because he was hungry; and well he might be,\nwhen 'the husks that the swine did eat' were luxuries beyond his\nreach. Thank God for the teaching that even so low a motive as that\nis accepted by God; and that, if a man goes back, even for no better\nreason--as long as he does go back, he will be welcomed by the\nFather. This poor boy was quite content to sink his sonship for the\nsake of a loaf; and all that he wanted was to stay his hunger. So he\nhad to learn that he could not get bread on the terms that he\ndesired, and that what he wished most was not what he needed first.\nHe had to be forgiven and bathed in the outflow of his father's love\nbefore he could be fed. And, being thus received, he could not fail\nto be fed. So the message for us is, first, forgiveness, and then\nevery hunger of the heart satisfied; all desires met; every needful\nnourishment communicated, and the true bread ours for ever, if we\nchoose to eat. 'The meek shall eat and be satisfied.'\n\nI need not draw the picture--that picture of which there are many\noriginals sitting in these pews before me--of the men that go for\never roaming with a hungry heart, through all the regions of life\nseparate from God; and whether they seek their nourishment in the\ngarbage of the sty, or whether fastidiously they look for it in the\nhigher nutriment of mind and intellect and heart, still are\ncondemned to be unfilled.\n\nBrethren, 'Why do you spend your money for that ... which satisfies\nnot?' Here is the true way for all desires to be appeased. Go to God\nin Jesus Christ for forgiveness, and then everything that you need\nshall be yours. 'I counsel thee to buy of Me ... white raiment that\nthou mayest be clothed.' 'He that eateth of this bread shall live\nfor ever.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOLLIES OF THE WISE\n\n\n    'The children of this world are in their generation\n    wiser than the children of light.'--LUKE xvi. 8.\n\nThe parable of which these words are the close is remarkable in that\nit proposes a piece of deliberate roguery as, in some sort, a\npattern for Christian people. The steward's conduct was neither more\nnor less than rascality, and yet, says Christ, 'Do like that!'\n\nThe explanation is to be found mainly in the consideration that what\nwas faithless sacrifice of his master's interests, on the part of the\nsteward, is, in regard to the Christian man's use of earthly gifts,\nthe right employment of the possessions which have been entrusted to\nhim. But there is another vindication of the singular selection of\nsuch conduct as an example, in the consideration that what is praised\nis not the dishonesty, but the foresight, realisation of the facts of\nthe case, promptitude, wisdom of various kinds exhibited by the\nsteward. And so says our Lord--shutting out the consideration of ends,\nand looking only for a moment at means,--the world can teach the\nChurch a great many lessons; and it would be well for the Church if\nits members lived in the fashion in which the men of the world do.\nThere is eulogium here, a recognition of splendid qualities,\nprostituted to low purposes; a recognition of wisdom in the adaptation\nof means to an end; and a limitation of the recognition, because it is\nonly _in their generation_ that 'the children of this world are\nwiser than the children of light.'\n\nI. So we may look, first, at these two classes, which our Lord\nopposes here to one another.\n\n'The children of this world' would have, for their natural\nantithesis, the children of another world. The 'children of light'\nwould have, for their natural antithesis, 'the children of\ndarkness.' But our Lord so orders His words as to suggest a double\nantithesis, one member of which has to be supplied in each case, and\nHe would teach us that whoever the children of this world may be,\nthey are 'children of darkness'; and that the 'children of light'\nare so, just because they are the children of another world than\nthis. Thus He limits His praise, because it is the sons of darkness\nthat, in a certain sense, are wiser than the enlightened ones. And\nthat is what makes the wonder and the inconsistency to which our\nLord is pointing. We can understand a man being a consistent,\nthorough-paced fool all through. But men whose folly is so dashed\nand streaked with wisdom, and others whose wisdom is so spotted and\nblurred with folly, are the extraordinary paradoxes which experience\nof life presents to us.\n\nThe children of this world are of darkness; the children of light\nare the children of another world. Now I need not spend more than a\nsentence or two in further explaining these two antitheses. I do not\nintend to vindicate them, or to vindicate our Lord's distinct\nclassification of men into these two halves. What does He mean by\nthe children of this world? The old Hebrew idiom, the children of\nso-and-so, simply suggests persons who are so fully possessed and\nsaturated with a given quality, or who belong so entirely to a given\nperson, as that they are spoken of as if they stood to it, or to\nhim, in the relation of children to their parents. And a child of\nthis world is a man whose whole thoughts, aims, and objects of life\nare limited and conditioned by this material present. But the word\nwhich is employed here, translated rightly enough 'world,' is not\nthe same as that which is often used, especially in John's writings,\nfor the same idea. Although it conveys a similar idea, still it is\ndifferent. The characteristic quality of the visible and material\nworld which is set forth by the expression here employed is its\ntransiency. 'The children of this epoch' rather than 'of this world'\nis the meaning of the phrase. And it suggests, not so much the\ninadequacy of the material to satisfy the spiritual, as the absurdity\nof a man fixing his hopes and limiting his aims and life-purpose\nwithin the bounds of what is destined to fade and perish. Fleeting\nwealth, fleeting honours, mortal loves, wisdom, and studies that pass\naway with the passing away of the material; these, however elevating\nsome of them may be, however sweet some of them may be, however\nneedful all of them are in their places, are not the things to which\na man can safely lash his being, or entrust his happiness, or wisely\ndevote his life. And therefore the men who, ignoring the fact that\nthey live and the world passes, make themselves its slaves, and\nitself their object, are convicted by the very fact of the\ndisproportion between the duration of themselves and of that which\nis their aim, of being children of the darkness.\n\nThen we come to the other antithesis. The children of light are so\nin the measure in which their lives are not dependent exclusively\nupon, nor directed solely towards, the present order and condition\nof things. If there be a _this,_ then there is a _that_. If there be an\nage which is qualified as being present, then that implies that there\nis an age or epoch which is yet to come. And that coming 'age' should\nregulate the whole of our relations to that age which at present is. For\nlife is continuous, and the coming epoch is the outcome of the present.\nAs truly as 'the child is father of the man,' so truly is Eternity the\noffspring of Time, and that which we are to-day determines that which\nwe shall be through the ages. He that recognises the relations of the\npresent and the future, who sees the small, limited things of the\nmoment running out into the dim eternity beyond, and the track\nunbroken across the gulfs of death and the broad expanse of countless\nyears, and who therefore orders the little things here so as to secure\nthe great things yonder, he, and only he, who has made time the\n'lackey to eternity,' and in his pursuit of the things seen and\ntemporal, regards them always in the light of things unseen and eternal,\nis a child of light.\n\nII. The second consideration suggested here is the limited and\nrelative wisdom of the fools.\n\nThe children of this world, who are the children of darkness, and\nwho at bottom are thoroughly unwise, considered relatively, 'are\nwiser than the children of light.' The steward is the example. 'A\nrogue is always'--as one of our thinkers puts it--'a roundabout\nfool.' He would have been a much wiser man if he had been an\nhonester one; and, instead of tampering with his lord's goods, had\nfaithfully administered them.\n\nBut, shutting out the consideration of the moral quality of his\naction, look how much there was in it that was wise, prudent, and\nworthy of praise. There were courage, fertility of resource, a clear\ninsight into what was the right thing to do. There was a wise\nadaptation of means to an end. There was promptitude in carrying out\nthe wise means that suggested themselves to him. The design was bad.\nGranted. We are not talking about goodness, but about cleverness.\nSo, very significantly, in the parable the person cheated cannot\nhelp saying that the cheat was a clever one. The 'lord,' although he\nhad suffered by it, 'commended the unjust steward, because he had\ndone wisely.'\n\nDid you never know in Manchester some piece of sharp practice, about\nwhich people said, 'Ah, well, he is a clever fellow,' and all but\ncondoned the immorality for the sake of the smartness? The lord and\nthe steward belong to the same level of character; and vulpine\nsagacity, astuteness, and qualities which ensure success in material\nthings seem to both of them to be of the highest value. 'The children\nof this world, _in their generation'_--but only in it--are wiser\nthan the children of light.'\n\nNow I draw a very simple, practical lesson, and it is just this,\nthat if Christian men, in their Christian lives, would practise the\nvirtues that the world practises, in pursuit of its shabby aims and\nends, their whole Christian character would be revolutionised. Why,\na boy will spend more pains in learning to whistle than half of you\ndo in trying to cultivate your Christian character. The secret of\nsuccess religiously is precisely the same as the secret of success\nin ordinary things. Look at the splendid qualities that go to the\nmaking of a successful housebreaker. Audacity, resource, secrecy,\npromptitude, persistence, skill of hand, and a hundred others, are\nput into play before a man can break into your back kitchen and\nsteal your goods. Look at the qualities that go to the making of a\nsuccessful amuser of people. Men will spend endless time and pains,\nand devote concentration, persistence, self-denial, diligence, to\nlearning how to play upon some instrument, how to swing upon a\ntrapeze, how to twist themselves into abnormal contortions. Jugglers\nand fiddlers, and circus-riders and dancers, and people of that sort\nspend far more time upon efforts to perfect themselves in their\nprofession, than ninety-nine out of every hundred professing\nChristians do to make themselves true followers of Jesus Christ.\nThey know that nothing is to be got without working for it, and\nthere is nothing to be got in the Christian life without working for\nit any more than in any other.\n\nShut out the end for a moment, and look at the means. From the ranks\nof criminals, of amusers, and of the purely worldly men of business\nthat we come in contact with every day, we may get lessons that\nought to bring a blush to all our cheeks, when we think to ourselves\nhow a wealth of intellectual and moral qualities and virtues, such\nas we do not bring to bear on our Christian lives, are by these men\nemployed in regard of their infinitely smaller pursuits.\n\nOh, brethren! we ought to be our own rebukes, for it is not only\nother people who show forth in other fields of life the virtues that\nwould make so much better Christians of us, if we used them in ours,\nbut that we ourselves carry within ourselves the condemning\ncontrast. Look at your daily life! Do you give anything like the\neffort to grow in the knowledge of your Lord and Saviour, Jesus\nChrist, that you do to make or maintain your position in the world?\nWhen you are working side by side with the children of this world\nfor the same objects, you keep step with them, and are known to be\ndiligent in business as they are. When you pass into the church,\nwhat do you do there? Are we not ice in one half of our lives, and\nfire in the other? We may well lay to heart these solemn words of\nour Lord, and take shame when we think that not only do the unwise,\nwho choose the world as their portion, put us to shame in their\nself-denial, their earnestness, their absorption, their clear\ninsight into facts, their swiftness in availing themselves of every\nopportunity, their persistence and their perseverance, but that we\nrebuke ourselves because of the difference between the earnestness\nwith which we follow the things that are of this world, and the\nlanguor of our pursuit after the things that are unseen and eternal.\n\nOf course the reasons for the contrast are easy enough to apprehend,\nand I do not need to spend time upon them. The objects that so have\npower to stimulate and to lash men into energy, continuously through\ntheir lives, lie at hand, and a candle near will dim the sunshine\nbeyond. These objects appeal to sense, and such make a deeper\nimpression than things that are shown to the mind, as every picture-book\nmay prove to us. And we, in regard to the aims of our Christian life,\nhave to make a continual effort to bring and keep them before us, or\nthey are crowded out by the intrusive vulgarities and dazzling\nbrilliances of the present. And so it comes to pass that the men who\nhunt after trifles that are to perish set examples to the men who say\nthat they are pursuing eternal realities. 'Go to the ant, thou sluggard,\nconsider her ways and be wise.' Go to the men of the world, thou\nChristian, and do not let it be said that the devil's scholars are more\nstudious and earnest than Christ's disciples.\n\nIII. Lastly, note the conclusive folly of the partially wise.\n\n'In their generation,' says Christ; and that is all that can be said,\nThe circle runs round its 360 degrees, and these people take a segment\nof it, say forty-five degrees, and all the rest is as non-existent. If\nI am to call a man a wise man out and out, there are two things that I\nshall have to be satisfied about concerning him. The one is, what is\nhe aiming at? and the other, how does he aim at it? In regard to the\nmeans, the men of the world bear the bell, and carry away the supremacy.\nLet in the thought of the end, and things change. Two questions reduce\nall the world's wisdom to stark, staring insanity. The first question\nis, 'What are you doing it for?' And the second question is, 'And\nsuppose you get it, what then?' Nothing that cannot pass the barrier\nof these two questions satisfactorily is other than madness, if taken\nto be the aim of a man's life. You have to look at the end, and the\nwhole circumference of the circle of the human being, before you serve\nout the epithets of 'wise' and  'foolish.'\n\nI need not dwell on the manifest folly of men who give their lives\nto aims and ends of which I have already said that they are\ndisproportioned to the capacity of the pursuer. Look at yourselves,\nbrothers; these hearts of yours that need an infinite love for their\nsatisfaction, these active spirits of yours that can never be at\nrest in creatural perfection; these troubled consciences of yours\nthat stir and moan inarticulately over unperceived wounds until they\nare healed by Christ. How can any man with a heart and a will, and a\nprogressive spirit and intellect, find what he needs in anything\nbeneath the stars? 'Whose image and superscription hath it? They say\nunto Him, Caesar's'; we say 'God's.' 'Render unto God the things\nthat are God's.' The man who makes anything but God his end and aim\nis relatively wise and absolutely foolish.\n\nLet me remind you too, that the same sentence of folly passes, if we\nconsider the disproportion between the duration of the objects and\nof him who makes them his aim. You live, and if you are a wise man,\nyour treasures will be of the kind that last as long as you. 'They\ncall their lands after their own name; they think that their houses\nshall continue for ever. They go down into the dust. Their glory\nshall not descend after them,' and, therefore, 'this, their way, is\ntheir folly.'\n\nBrethren, all that I would say may be gathered into two words. Let\nthere be a proportion between your aims and your capacity. That\nsignifies, let God be your end. And let there be a correspondence\nbetween your end and your means. That signifies, 'Thou shalt love\nthe Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with\nall thy strength, and with all thy mind.' Or else, when everything\ncomes to be squared up and settled, the epitaph on your gravestone\nwill deservedly be; 'Thou fool !'\n\n\n\n\nTWO KINDS OF RICHES\n\n\n    'He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful\n    also in much: and he that is unjust in the least is\n    unjust also in much. 11. If therefore ye have not been\n    faithful in the unrighteous mammon, who will commit to\n    your trust the true riches? 12. And if ye have not been\n    faithful in that which is another man's, who shall give\n    you that which is your own?'--LUKE xvi. 10-12.\n\nThat is a very strange parable which precedes my text, in which our\nLord takes a piece of crafty dishonesty on the part of a steward who\nhad been embezzling his lord's money as in some sense an example for\nus Christian people, There are other instances in which He does the\nsame thing, finding a soul of goodness in things evil, as, for\ninstance, in the parable of the Unjust Judge. Similar is the New\nTestament treatment of war or slavery, both of which diabolical\nthings are taken as illustrations of what in the highest sphere are\nnoble and heavenly things.\n\nBut having delivered the parable, our Lord seems, in the verses that\nI have read, to anticipate the objection that the unfaithfulness of\nthe steward can never be an example for God's stewards; and in the\nwords before us, amongst other things, He says substantially this,\nthat whilst the steward's using his lord's wealth in order to help\nhis lord's debtors was a piece of knavery and unfaithfulness, in us\nit is not unfaithfulness, but the very acme of faithfulness. In the\ntext we have the thought that there are two kinds of valuable things\nin the world, a lower and a higher; that men may be very rich in\nregard to the one, and very poor in regard to the other. In respect\nto these, 'There is that maketh himself rich, and yet hath nothing;\nthere is that maketh himself poor, and yet hath great riches.' More\nthan that, the noblest use of the lower kind of possessions is to\nsecure the possession of the highest. And so He teaches us the\nmeaning of life, and of all that we have.\n\nNow, there are three things in these words to which I would turn\nyour attention--the two classes of treasure, the contrast of\nqualities between these two, and the noblest use of the lower.\n\nI. The Two Classes of Treasure.\n\nNow, we shall make a great mistake if we narrow down the\ninterpretation of that word 'mammon' in the context (which is 'that\nwhich is least,' etc., here) to be merely money. It covers the whole\nground of all possible external and material possessions, whatsoever\nthings a man can only have in outward seeming, whatsoever things\nbelong only to the region of sense and the present. All that is in\nthe world, in fact, is included in the one name. And you must widen\nout your thoughts of what is referred to here in this prolonged\ncontrast which our Lord runs between the two sets of treasures, so\nas to include, not only money, but all sorts of things that belong\nto this sensuous and temporal scene. And, on the other hand, there\nstands opposite to it, as included in, and meant by, that which is\n'most,' 'that which is the true riches,' 'that which is your own';\neverything that holds of the unseen and spiritual, whether it be\ntreasures of intellect and lofty thought, or whether it be pure and\nnoble aims, or whether it be ideals of any kind, the ideals of art,\nthe aspirations of science, the lofty aims of the scholar and the\nstudent--all these are included. And the very same standard of\nexcellence which declares that the treasures of a cultivated\nintellect, of a pure mind, of a lofty purpose, are higher than the\nutmost of material good, and that 'wisdom is better than rubies,'\nthe very same standard, when applied in another direction, declares\nthat above the treasures of the intellect and the taste are to be\nranked all the mystical and great blessings which are summoned up in\nthat mighty word salvation. And we must take a step further, for\nneither the treasures of the intellect, the mind, and the heart, nor\nthe treasures of the spiritual life which salvation implies, can be\nrealised and reached unless a man possesses God. So in the deepest\nanalysis, and in the truest understanding of these two contrasted\nclasses of wealth you have but the old antithesis: the world--and\nGod. He that has God is rich, however poor he may be in reference to\nthe other category; and he that has Him not is poor, however rich he\nmay be. 'The lines are fallen to me in pleasant places,' says the\nPsalmist; and 'I have a goodly heritage,' because he could also say,\n'God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever.' So there\nis the antithesis, the things of time and sense, the whole mass of\nthem knit together on the one hand; the single God alone by Himself\non the other. Of these two classes of valuable things our Lord goes\non next to tell us the relative worth. For we have here\n\nII. The Contrast between the Two.\n\nThat contrast is threefold, as you observe, 'that which is least.'\nor, perhaps better, 'that which is very little.' and 'that which is\nmuch.' That is a contrast in reference to degree. But degree is a\nshallow word, which does not cover the whole ground, nor go down\nto the depths. So our Lord comes next to a contrast in regard to\nessential nature, 'the unrighteous mammon' and 'the true riches.'\nBut even these contrasts in degree and in kind do not exhaust all\nthe contrasts possible, for there is another, the contrast in\nreference to the reality of our possession: 'that which is\nanother's'; 'that which is your own.' Let us, then, take these three\nthings, the contrast in degree, the contrast in kind, the contrast\nin regard to real possession.\n\nFirst, then, and briefly, mental and spiritual and inward blessings,\nsalvation, God, are more than all externals. Our Lord gathers all\nthe conceivable treasures of earth, jewels and gold and dignities,\nand scenes of sensuous delights, and everything that holds to the\nvisible and the temporal, and piles them into one scale, and then He\nputs into the other the one name, God; and the pompous nothings fly\nup and are nought, and have no weight at all. Is that not true? Does\nit need any demonstration, any more talk about it? No!\n\nBut then comes in sense and appeals to us, and says, 'You cannot get\nbeyond my judgment. These things are good.' Jesus Christ does not\nsay that they are not, but sense regards them as far better than\nthey are. They are near us, and a very small object near us, by the\nlaws of perspective, shuts out a mightier one beyond us. We in\nManchester live in a community which is largely based on, and\nactuated and motived in its diligence by the lie that material good\nis better than spiritual good, that it is better to be a rich man\nand a successful merchant than to be a poor and humble and honest\nstudent; that it is better to have a balance at your bankers than to\nhave great and pure and virginal thoughts in a clean heart; that a\nman has done better for himself when he has made a fortune than when\nhe has God in his heart. And so we need, and God knows it was never\nmore needed in Manchester than to-day, that we should preach and\npreach and preach, over and over again, this old-fashioned\nthreadbare truth, which is so threadbare and certain that it has\nlost its power over the lives of many of us, that all that, at its\nmightiest, is very little, and that this, at its least, is very\nmuch. Dear brethren, you and I know how hard it is always,\nespecially how hard it is in business lives, to keep this as our\npractical working faith. We say we believe, and then we go away and\nlive as if we believed the opposite. I beseech you listen to the\nscale laid down by Him who knew all things in their measure and\ndegree, and let us settle it in our souls, and live as if we had\nsettled it, that it is better to be wise and good than to be rich\nand prosperous, and that God is more than a universe of worlds, if\nwe have Him for our own.\n\nBut to talk about a contrast in degree degrades the reality, for it\nis no matter of difference of measurement, but it is a matter of\ndifference of kind. And so our Lord goes on to a deeper phase of the\ncontrast, when He pits against one another 'the unrighteous mammon'\nand 'the true riches.' Now, there is some difficulty in that\ncontrast. The two significant terms do not seem to be precise\nopposites, and possibly they are not intended to be logically\naccurate counterparts of each other. But what is meant by 'the\nunrighteous mammon'? I do not suppose that the ordinary explanation\nof that verse is quite adequate. We usually suppose that by so\nstigmatising the material good, He means to suggest how hard it is\nto get it--and you all know that--and how hard it is to keep it, and\nhow hard it is to administer it, without in some measure falling\ninto the sin of unrighteousness. But whilst I dare say that may be\nthe signification intended, if we were to require that the word here\nshould be a full and correct antithesis to the other phrase, 'the\ntrue riches,' we should need to suppose that 'unrighteous' here\nmeant that which falsely pretended to be what it was not. And so we\ncome to the contrast between the deceitfulness of earthly good and\nthe substantial reality of the heavenly. Will any fortune, even\nthough it goes into seven figures, save a man from the miseries, the\nsorrows, the ills that flesh is heir to? Does a great estate make a\nman feel less desolate when he stands by his wife's coffin? Will any\nwealth 'minister to a mind diseased'? Will a mountain of material\ngood calm and satisfy a man's soul? You see faces just as\ndiscontented, looking out of carriage windows, as you meet in the\nstreet. 'Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.' There is no\nproportion between abundance of external good of any kind and happy\nhearts. We all know that the man who is rich is not happier than the\npoor man. And I, for my part, believe that the raw material of\nhappiness is very equally distributed through the world, and that it\nis altogether a hallucination by which a poor man thinks, 'If I were\nwealthy like that other man, how different my life would be.' No, it\nwould not; you would be the same man. The rich man that fancies that\nbecause he is rich he is 'better off,' as they say, than his poor\nbrother, and the poor man who thinks that he would be 'better off'\nif he were richer than he is now, are the same man turned inside\nout, so to speak; and common to both of them is that fallacy, that\nwealth and material good contribute much to the real blessedness and\nnobleness of the man who happens to own it.\n\nBut then, perhaps, we have rather to regard this unrighteous mammon\nas so designated from another point of view. You will remember that\nall through the context our Lord has been insisting on the notion of\nstewardship. And I take it that what He means here is to remind us\nthat whenever we claim any of our possessions, especially our\nexternal ones, as our own, we thereby are guilty of defrauding both\nGod and man, and are unrighteous, and it is unrighteous thereby.\nStewardship is a word which describes our relation to all that we\nhave. Forget that, and then whatever you have becomes 'the\nunrighteous mammon.' There is the point in which Christ's teaching\njoins hands with a great deal of unchristian teaching in this\npresent day which is called Socialism and Communism. Christianity is\nnot communistic. It asserts as against other men your right of\nproperty, but it limits that right by this, that if you interpret\nyour right of property to mean the right to 'do what you like with\nyour own,' ignoring your stewardship to God, and the right of your\nfellows to share in what you have, then you are an unfaithful\nsteward, and your mammon is unrighteous. And that principle, the\ntrue communism of Christianity, has to be worked into modern society\nin a way that some of us do not dream of, before modern society will\nbe organised on Christian principles. These words of my text are no\ntoothless words which are merely intended to urge Christian people\non to a sentimental charity, and to a niggardly distribution of part\nof their possessions: but they underlie the whole conception of\nownership, as the New Testament sets it forth. Wherever the\nstewardship that we owe to God, and the participation that we owe to\nmen, are neglected in regard to anything that we have, there God's\ngood gifts are perverted and have become 'unrighteous mammon.'\n\nAnd, then, on the other hand, our Lord sets forth here the contrast\nin regard to 'the true riches', which are such, inasmuch as they\nreally correspond to the idea of wealth being a true good to a man,\nand making him rich to all the intents of bliss. He that has the\ntreasures of a pure mind, of a lofty aim, of a quiet conscience, of\na filled and satisfied and therefore calmed heart; he that has the\ntreasure of salvation; he that has the boundless wealth of God---he\nhas the bullion, while the poor rich people that have the material\ngood have the scrip of an insolvent company, which is worth no more\nthan the paper on which it is written. There are two currencies--one\nsolid metal, the other worthless paper. The one is 'true riches,'\nand the other the 'unrighteous mammon.'\n\nThen there is a last contrast, and that is with regard to the\nreality of our possession. On the one hand, that which I fondly call\nmy own is by our Lord stamped with the proprietor's mark, of\nsomebody else, 'that which is Another's.' It was His before He gave\nit, it was His when He gave it, it is His after He has given it. My\nname is never to be written on my property so as to erase the name\nof the Owner. I am a steward; I am a trustee; it all belongs to Him.\nThat is one rendering of this word. But the phrase may perhaps point\nin another direction. It may suggest how shadowy and unreal, as\nbeing merely external, and how transitory is our ownership of wealth\nand outward possessions. A man says, 'It is mine.' What does he mean\nby that? It is not his own in any real sense. I get more good out of\na rich man's pictures, or estate, if I look at them with an eye that\nloves them, than he does. The world belongs to the man that can\nenjoy it and rightly use it. And the man that enjoys it and uses it\naright is the man who lives in God. Nothing is really yours except\nthat which has entered into the substance of your soul, and become\nincorporated with your very being, so that, as in wool dyed in the\ngrain, the colour will never come out. What I am, that I have; what\nI only have, that, in the deepest sense, I have not. 'Shrouds have\nno pockets,' says the Spanish proverb. 'His glory will not descend\nafter him,' says the psalm. That is a poor possession which only is\noutward whilst it lasts, and which ends so soon. But there is wealth\nthat comes into me. There are riches that cannot be parted from me.\nI can make my own a great inheritance, which is wrought into the\nvery substance of my being, and will continue so inwrought, into\nwhatsoever worlds or states of existence any future may carry me.\nSo, and only so, is anything my own. Let these contrasts dominate\nour lives.\n\nI see our space is gone; I must make this sermon a fragment, and\nleave what I intended to have made the last part of it for possible\nfuture consideration. Only let me press upon you in one closing word\nthis, that the durable riches are only found in God, and the riches\nthat can be found in God are brought to every one of us by Him 'in\nwhom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge,' of goodness\nand grace. If we will make ourselves poor, by consciousness of our\nneed, and turn with faith to Jesus, then we shall receive from Him\nthose riches which are greatest, which are true, which are our own\nin that they pass into our very being, in that they were destined\nfor us from all eternity by the love of God; and in having them we\nshall be rich indeed, and for ever.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GAINS OF THE FAITHFUL STEWARD\n\n\n    'If ye have not been faithful in that which is another\n    man's, who shall give you that which is your own?'\n    --LUKE xvi. 12.\n\nIn a recent sermon on this context I dealt mainly with the threefold\ncomparison which our Lord runs between the higher and the lower kind\nof riches. The one is stigmatised as 'that which is least,' the\nunrighteous mammon,' 'that which is another's'; whilst the higher is\nmagnified as being 'that which is most,' 'the true riches,' 'your\nown.' What are these two classes? On the one hand stand all\npossessions which, in and after possession, remain outside of a man,\nwhich may survive whilst he perishes, or perish while he survives.\nOn the other hand are the riches which pass into him, and become\ninseparable from him. Noble aims, high aspirations, pure thoughts,\ntreasures of wisdom, treasures of goodness--these are the real\nwealth corresponding to man's nature, destined for his enrichment,\nand to last with him for ever. But we may gather the whole contrast\ninto two words: the small, the 'unrighteous,' the wealth which being\nmine is not mine but remains another's, and foreign to me, is the\nworld. The great riches, the 'true riches,' the good destined for\nme, and for which I am destined, is God. In these two words you have\nthe antithesis, the real antithesis, God _versus_ the world.\n\nNow let us turn rather to the principle which our Lord here lays\ndown, in reference to these two classes of good, or of possessions.\nHe tells us that the faithful use of the world helps us to the\npossession of God; or, to put it into other words, that how we\nhandle money and what money can buy, has a great deal to do with our\nreligious enjoyment and our religious life, and that that is true,\nboth in regard to our partial possession of God here and now, and to\nour perfect possession of Him in the world to come.\n\nNow I wish to say one or two very plain things about this matter,\nand I hope that you will not turn away from them because they are\nfamiliar and trite. Considering how much of your lives, especially\nas regards men of business, is taken up with money, its acquisition,\nits retention, its distribution, there are few things that have more\nto do with the vigour or feebleness of your Christian life than the\nway in which you handle these perishable things.\n\nI wish to say a word or two, first, about\n\nI. What our Lord means by this faithfulness to which He attaches\nsuch tremendous issues.\n\nNow, you will remember, that the starting point of my text is that\nparable of the unjust steward, whose conduct, knavish as it was, is\nin some sense presented by our Lord to His disciples, and to us, as\na pattern. But my text, and the other two verses which are parallel\nwith it, seem to have amongst their other purposes this: to put in a\ncaveat against supposing that it is the unfaithfulness of the\nsteward which is recommended for our imitation. And so the first\npoint that is suggested in regard to this matter of faithfulness\nabout the handling of outward good is that we have to take care that\nit is rightly acquired, for though the unjust steward was commended\nfor the prudent use that he made of dishonestly acquired gain, it is\nthe prudent use, and not the manner of the acquisition which we are\nto take as our examples. Initial unfaithfulness in acquisition is\nnot condoned or covered over by any pious and benevolent use\nhereafter. Mediaeval barons left money for masses. Plenty of\nProtestants do exactly the same thing. Brewers will build\ncathedrals, and found picture galleries, and men that have made\ntheir money foully will fancy that they atone for that by leaving it\nfor some charitable purpose. The caustic but true wit of a Scottish\njudge said about a great bequest which was supposed to be--whether\nrightly or wrongly, I know not--of that sort, that it was 'the\nheaviest fire insurance premium that had been paid in the memory of\nman.' 'The money does not stink,' said the Roman Emperor, about the\nproceeds of an unsavoury tax. But the money unfaithfully won does\nstink when it is thrown into God's treasury. 'The price of a dog\nshall not come into the sanctuary of the Lord.' Do not think that\nmoney doubtfully won is consecrated by being piously spent.\n\nBut there are more things than that here, for our Lord sums up the\nwhole of a Christian man's duties in regard to the use of this\nexternal world and all its good, in that one word 'faithful,' which\nimplies discharge of responsibility, recognition of obligation, the\ncontinual consciousness that we are not proprietors but stewards.\nUnless we carry that consciousness with us into all the phases of\nour connection with perishable goods they become--as I shall have to\nshow you in a moment,--hindrances instead of helps to our possession\nof God.\n\nI am not going to talk revolutionary socialism, or anything of that\nsort, but I am bound to reiterate my own solemn conviction that\nuntil, practically as well as theoretically, the Christian Church in\nall its branches brings into its creed, and brings out in its\npractice, the great thought of stewardship, especially in regard to\nmaterial and external good, but also in regard to the durable riches\nof salvation, the nations will be full of unrest, and thunder-clouds\nheavily boding storm and destruction will lower on the horizon. What\nwe have, we have that we may impart; what we have in all forms of\nhaving, we have because we have received. We are distributing\ncentres, that is all--I was going to say like a nozzle, perforated\nwith many holes, at the end of the spout of a watering-can. That is\na Christian man's relation to his possessions. We are stewards.\n'It is required in stewards that a man be found faithful'\n\nNow let me ask you to notice--\n\nII. The bearing of this faithfulness in regard to the lower wealth\non our possession of the higher.\n\nJesus says in this context, twice over, that faithfulness with\nregard to the former is the condition of our being entrusted with\nthe latter. Now, remember, by way of illustration of this thought,\nwhat all this outward world of goodness and beauty is mainly meant\nfor. What? It is all but scaffolding by which, and within the area\nof which, the building may arise. The meaning of the world is to\nmake character. All that we have, aye! and all that we do, and the\nwhole of the events and circumstances with which we come in contact\nhere on earth, are then lifted to their noblest function, and are\nthen understood in their deepest meaning when we look upon them as\nwe do upon the leaping-poles and bars and swings of a gymnasium,--as\nmeant to develop thews and muscles, and make men of us. That is what\nthey are here for, and that is what we are here for. Not enjoyment,\nand not sorrow, except in so far as these two are powers in\ndeveloping character, not plunging ourselves in the enjoyments of\nsense. Wealth and poverty, gain and loss, love gratified and love\nmarred, possessions sweet, when preserved, and possessions that\nbecome sweeter by being removed; all these are simply meant as\nwhetstones on which the keen blade may be sharpened, as forces\nagainst which, trying ourselves, our deftness and strength may be\nincreased. They are all meant to make us men, and if we faithfully\nuse these externals with a recognition of their source, with a wise\nestimate of their subordination so as that our desires shall not\ncleave to them solely, and with a fixed determination to use them as\nministers to make ourselves nobler, wiser, stronger, liker to God\nand His Christ, then the world will minister to our possession of\nGod, and being 'faithful in that which is least,' we shall thereby\nbe more capable of receiving that which is greatest. But if, on the\nother hand, we so forget our true wealth, and become so besotted and\nabsorbed in our adhesion to, and our desires after, fleeting good,\nthen the capacities that were noble will fade and shrivel, being\nunused; aims and purposes that were elevated and pure will die out\nunsatisfied; windows in our souls which commanded a wide, glorious\nprospect will gradually be bricked up; burdens which hinder our\nrunning will be piled upon our backs, and the world will have\nconquered us, whilst we are dreaming that we have conquered the\nworld. You look at a sea anemone in a pool on the rocks when the\ntide is out, all its tendrils outstretched, and its cavity wide\nopen. Some little bit of seaweed, or some morsel of half-putrefying\nmatter, comes in contact with it, and instantly every tentacle is\nretracted, and the lips are tightly closed, so that you could not\npush a bristle in. And when your tentacles draw themselves in to\nclutch the little portion of worldly good, of whatever sort it is,\nthat has come into your hold, there is no room to get God in there,\nand being 'unfaithful in that which is least' you have made it\nimpossible that you should possess 'that which is most.' Ah! there\nare some of us that were far better Christians long ago, when we\nwere poorer men, than we are to-day, and there are some of us that\nknow what it is to have the heart so filled with baser liquors that\nthere is no room for the ethereal nectar. If the world has filled my\nsoul, where is God to dwell?\n\nThere is another way in which we may look at this matter. I have\nsaid that the main use of these perishable and fragmentary good\nthings around us is to develop character, by our administration of\nthem. Another way of putting the same thought is that their main use\nis to show us God. If we faithfully use the lesser good it will\nbecome transparent, and reveal to us the greater. We hear a great\ndeal about deepening the spiritual life by prayers, and conventions,\nand Bible readings and the like. I have no word to say except in\nfull sympathy with all such. But I do believe that the best means,\nthe most powerful means, by which the great bulk of Christian men\ncould deepen their spiritual lives would be a more honest and\nthoroughgoing attempt to 'be faithful in that which is least.' We\nhave so much to do with it necessarily, that few, if any, things\nhave more power in shaping our whole characters than our manner of\nadministering the wealth, the material good, that comes to our\nhands.\n\nAnd so, dear brethren, I beseech you remember that the laws of\nperspective are such as that a minute thing near at hand shuts out\nthe vision of a mighty thing far off, and a hillock by my side will\nhide the Himalayas at a distance, and a sovereign may block out God;\nand 'that which is least' has the diabolical power of seeming\ngreater to us than, and of obscuring our vision of, 'that which is\nmost.'\n\nMay I remind you that all these thoughts about the bearing of\nfaithfulness in administering the lower of our possessions, on the\nattainment of higher, apply to us whatever be the amount of these\noutward goods that we have? I suppose there were not twelve poorer\nmen in all Palestine that day than the twelve to whom my text was\noriginally addressed. Three of them had left their nets and their\nfishing-boats, one of them we know had left his counting-house, as a\npublican, and all his receipts and taxes behind him. What they had\nwe know not, but at all events they were the poor of this world. Do\nnot any of you that happen to be modestly or poorly off think that\nmy sermon is a sermon for rich men. It is not what we have, but how\nwe handle it, that is in question. 'The cares of this world, and the\ndeceitfulness of riches,' were bracketed together by Jesus Christ as\nthe things that 'choke the word,' and make it unfruitful. The poor\nman who wants, and the rich man who uses unfaithfully, are alike hit\nby the words of my text.\n\nNow, further, let me ask you to look at\n\nIII. The bearing of faithfulness in this life on the fuller\npossession of our true riches in the life hereafter.\n\nThere lies under this whole context a striking conception of life\nhere in its relation to the life hereafter, A father sets his son,\nor a master sets his apprentice, to some small task, an experiment\nmade upon a comparatively worthless body, supplies him with material\nwhich it does not much matter whether he spoils or not, and then if\nby practice the hand becomes deft, he is set to better work. God\nsets us to try our 'prentice hands here in the world, and if we\nadminister that rightly, not necessarily perfectly, but so as to\nshow that there are the makings of a good workman in us by His\ngracious help, then the next life comes, with its ampler margin,\nwith its wider possibilities, with its nobler powers, and there we\nare set to use in loftier fashion the powers which we made our own\nbeing here. 'Thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make\nthee ruler over many things.'\n\nI have said that the great use of the world and all its wealth is to\nmake character. I have said that that character determines our\ncapacity for the possession of God. I have said that our\nadministration of worldly wealth is one chief factor in determining\nour character. Now I say that that character persists. There are\ngreat changes, changes the significance and the scope and the\nconsequences of which we can never know here. But the man remains,\nin the main direction of his being, in the character which he has\nmade for himself by his use of God's world and of Christ's Spirit.\nAnd so the way in which we handle the trivialities and temporalities\nhere has eternal consequences. We sit in a low room with the\ntelegraph instrument in front of us, and we click off our messages,\nand they are recorded away yonder, and we shall have to read them\none day. Transient causes produce permanent effects. The seas which\nlaid down the great sandstone deposits that make so large a portion\nof the framework of this world have long since evaporated. But the\nfootprints of the seabird that stalked across the moist sand, and\nthe little pits made by the raindrops that fell countless\nmillenniums ago on the red ooze, are there yet, and you may see them\nin our museums. And so our faithfulness, or our unfaithfulness, here\nhas made the character which is eternal, and on which will depend\nwhether we shall, in the joys of that future life, possess God in\nfullness, or whether we shall lose Him, as our portion and our\nFriend.\n\nNow, dear brethren, do not forget that all this that I have been\nsaying is the second page in Christ's teaching; and the first page\nis an entirely different one. I have been saying that we make\ncharacter, and that character determines our possession of God and\nHis grace. But there is another thing to be said. The central\nthought of Christ's gospel is that God, in His sweetness, in His\npardoning mercy, in His cleansing Spirit, is given to the very men\nwhose characters do not deserve it. And the same Lord who said, 'If\nye have not been faithful in that which is least, who shall give you\nthat which is greatest?' says also from the heavens,' I counsel thee\nto buy of Me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich.' My\ntext, and the principle that is involved in it, do not contradict\nthe great truth that we are saved by simple faith, however unworthy\nwe are. That is the message to begin with. And unless you have\nreceived it you are not standing in the place where the message that\nI have been insisting upon has a personal bearing on you. But if you\nhave taken Christ for your salvation, remember, Christian brother\nand sister, that it is not the same thing in regard either to your\nChristian life on earth, or to your heavenly glory, whether you have\nbeen living faithfully as stewards in your handling of earth's\nperishable good, or whether you have clung to it as your real\nportion, have used it selfishly, and by it have hidden God from your\nhearts. To Christian men is addressed the charge that we trust not\nin the uncertainty of riches, but in the living God, and that we be\n'rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to communicate,\nthat we lay up in store for ourselves a good foundation against the\ntime to come'; and so 'lay hold on the life that is life indeed.'\n\n\n\n\nDIVES AND LAZARUS\n\n\n    'There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in\n    purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every\n    day: 20. And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus,\n    which was laid at his gate, full of sores, 21. And\n    desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the\n    rich man's table: moreover the dogs came and licked\n    his sores. 22. And it came to pass, that the beggar\n    died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham's\n    bosom: the rich man also died, and was buried; 23. And\n    in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torments, and\n    seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom.\n    24. And he cried, and said, Father Abraham, have mercy\n    on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of\n    his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I am\n    tormented in this flame. 25, But Abraham said, Son,\n    remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good\n    things, and likewise Lazarus evil things: but now he is\n    comforted, and thou art tormented. 26. And besides all\n    this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed:\n    so that they which would pass from hence to you cannot;\n    neither can they pass to us, that would come from\n    thence. 27. Then he said, I pray thee therefore,\n    father, that thou wouldest send him to my father's\n    house: 28. For I have five brethren; that he may\n    testify unto them lest they also come into this place\n    of torment. 29. Abraham saith unto him, They have Moses\n    and the prophets; let them hear them. 30. And he said,\n    Nay, father Abraham: but if one went unto them from the\n    dead, they will repent. 31. And he said unto him, If\n    they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they\n    be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.'\n    --Luke xvi. 19-31.\n\nThis, the sternest of Christ's parables, must be closely connected\nwith verses 13 and 14. Keeping them in view, its true purpose is\nplain. It is meant to rebuke, not the possession of wealth, but its\nheartless, selfish use. Christ never treats outward conditions as\nhaving the power of determining either character or destiny. What a\nman does with his conditions settles what he is and what becomes of\nhim. Nor does the parable teach that the use of wealth is the only\ndetermining factor, but, as every parable must do, it has to isolate\nthe lesson it teaches in order to burn it into the hearers.\n\nThere are three parts in the story--the conduct of the rich man, his\nfate, and the sufficiency of existing warnings to keep us from his\nsin and his end.\n\nI. Properly speaking, we have here, not a parable--that is, a\nrepresentation of physical facts which have to be translated into\nmoral or religious truths--but an imaginary narrative, embodying a\nnormal fact in a single case. The rich man does not stand for\nsomething else, but is one of the class of which Jesus wishes to set\nforth the sin and fate. It is very striking that neither he nor the\nbeggar is represented as acting, but each is simply described. The\njuxtaposition of the two figures carries the whole lesson.\n\nIt has sometimes been felt as a difficulty that the one is not said\nto have done anything bad, nor the other to have been devout or\ngood; and some hasty readers have thought that Jesus was here\nteaching the communistic doctrine that wealth is sin, and that\npoverty is virtue. No such crude trash came from His lips. But He\ndoes teach that heartless wallowing in luxury, with naked, starving\nbeggars at the gate, is sin which brings bitter retribution. The\nfact that the rich man does nothing is His condemnation. He was not\ndamned because he had a purple robe and fine linen undergarments,\nnor because he had lived in abundance, and every meal had been a\nfestival, but because, while so living, he utterly ignored Lazarus,\nand used his wealth only for his own gratification. Nothing more\nneeds to be said about his character; the facts sufficiently show\nit.\n\nStill less needs to be said about that of Lazarus. In this part of\nthe narrative he comes into view simply as the means of bringing out\nthe rich man's heartlessness and self-indulgence. For the purposes\nof the narrative his disposition was immaterial; for it is not our\nduty to help only deserving or good people. Manhood and misery are\nenough to establish the right to sympathy and succour. There may be\na hint of character in the name 'Lazarus,' which probably means 'God\nis help.' Since this is the only name in the parables, it is natural\nto give it significance, and it most likely suggests that the beggar\nclung to God as his stay. It may glance, too, at the riddle of life,\nwhich often seems to mock trust by continued trouble. Little outward\nsign had Lazarus of divine help, yet he did not cast away his\nconfidence. No doubt, he sometimes got some crumbs from Dives'\ntable, but not from Dives. That the dogs licked his sores does not\nseem meant as either alleviation or aggravation, but simply as\nvividly describing his passive helplessness and utterly neglected\ncondition. Neither he nor any one drove them off.\n\nBut the main point about him is that he was at Dives' gate, and\ntherefore thrust before Dives' notice, and that he got no help. The\nrich man was not bound to go and hunt for poor people, but here was\none pushed under his nose, as it were. Translate that into general\nexpressions, and it means that we all have opportunities of\nbeneficence laid in our paths, and that our guilt is heavy if we\nneglect these. 'The poor ye have always with you.' The guilt of\nselfish use of worldly possessions is equally great whatever is the\namount of possessions. Doing nothing when Lazarus lies at our gate\nis doing great wickedness. These truths have a sharp edge for us as\nwell as for the 'Pharisees who were covetous'; and they are wofully\nforgotten by professing Christians.\n\nII. In the second part of the narrative, our Lord follows the two,\nwho had been so near each other and yet so separated, into the land\nbeyond the grave. It is to be especially noticed that, in doing so,\nHe adopts the familiar Rabbinical teaching as to Hades. He does not\nthereby stamp these conceptions of the state of the dead with His\nassent; for the purpose of the narrative is not to reveal the\nsecrets of that land, but to impress the truth of retribution for\nthe sin in question. It would not be to a group of Pharisaic\nlisteners that He would have unveiled that world.\n\nHe takes their own notions of it--angel bearers, Abraham's bosom,\nthe two divisions in Hades, the separation, and yet communication,\nbetween them. These are Rabbis' fancies, not Christ's revelations.\nThe truths which He wished to force home lie in the highly\nimaginative conversation between the rich man and Abraham, which\nalso has its likeness in many a Rabbinical legend.\n\nThe difference between the ends of the two men has been often\nnoticed, and lessons, perhaps not altogether warranted, drawn from\nit. But it seems right to suppose that the omission of any notice of\nthe beggar's burial is meant to bring out that the neglect and\npitilessness, which had let him die, left his corpse unburied.\nPerhaps the dogs that had licked his sores tore his flesh. A fine\nsight that would be from the rich man's door! The latter had to die\ntoo, for all his purple, and to be swathed in less gorgeous robes.\nHis funeral is mentioned, not only because pomp and ostentation went\nas far as they could with him, but to suggest that he had to leave\nthem all behind. 'His glory shall not descend after him.'\n\nThe terrible picture of the rich man's torments solemnly warns us of\nthe necessary end of a selfish life such as his. The soul that lives\nto itself does not find satisfaction even here; but, when all\nexternals are left behind, it cannot but be in torture. That is not\ndrapery. Character makes destiny, and to live to self is death.\nObserve, too, that the relative positions of Dives and Lazarus are\nreversed--the beggar being now the possessor of abundance and\ndelights, while the rich man is the sufferer and the needy.\n\nFurther note that the latter now desires to have from the former the\nvery help which in life he had not given him, and that the\nretribution for refusing succour here is its denial hereafter. There\nhad been no sharing of 'good things' in the past life, but the rich\nman had asserted his exclusive rights to them. They had been 'thy\ngood things' in a very sinful sense, and Lazarus had bean left to\ncarry his evil things alone. There shall be no communication of good\nnow. Earth was the place for mutual help and impartation. That world\naffords no scope for it; for there men reap what they have sown, and\neach character has to bear its own burden.\n\nFinally, the ineffaceableness of distinctions of character, and\ntherefore of destiny, is set forth by the solemn image of the great\ngulf which cannot be crossed. It is indeed to be remembered that our\nLord is speaking of 'the intermediate state,' before resurrection\nand final judgment, and that, as already remarked, the intention of\nthe narrative is not to reveal the mysteries of the final state. But\nstill the impression left by the whole is that life here determines\nlife hereafter, and that character, once set and hardened here,\ncannot be cast into the melting-pot and remoulded there.\n\nIII. The last part of the narrative teaches that the fatal sin of\nheartless selfishness is inexcusable. The rich man's thought for his\nbrethren was quite as much an excuse for himself. He thought that,\nif he had only known, things would have been different. He shifts\nblame from himself on to the insufficiency of the warnings given\nhim. And the two answers put into Abraham's mouth teach the\nsufficiency of 'Moses and the prophets,' little as these say about\nthe future, and the impossibility of compelling men to listen to a\ndivine message to which they do not wish to listen.\n\nThe fault lies, not in the deficiency of the warnings, but in the\naversion of the will. No matter whether it is Moses or a spirit from\nHades who speaks, if men do not wish to hear, they will not hear.\nThey will not be persuaded--for persuasion has as much, or more, to\ndo with the heart and inclination than with the head. We have as\nmuch witness from heaven as we need. The worst man knows more of\nduty than the best man does. Dives is in torments because he lived\nfor self; and he lived for self, not because he did not know that it\nwas wrong, but because he did not choose to do what he knew to be\nright.\n\n\n\n\nMEMORY IN ANOTHER WORLD\n\n\n    'Abraham said, Son, remember!'--LUKE xvi. 25.\n\nIt is a very striking thought that Christ, if He be what we suppose\nHim to be, knew all about the unseen present which we call the\nfuture, and yet was all but silent in reference to it. Seldom is it\non His lips at all. Of arguments drawn from another world He has\nvery few. Sometimes He speaks about it, but rather by allusion than\nin anything like an explicit revelation. This parable out of which\nmy text is taken, is perhaps the most definite and continuous of His\nwords about the invisible world; and yet all the while it lay there\nbefore Him; and standing on the very verge of it, with it spread out\nclear before His gaze, He reads off but a word or two of what He\nsees, and then shuts it in in darkness, and says to us, in the spirit\nof a part of this parable, 'You have Moses and the prophets--hear\nthem: if these are not enough, it will not be enough for you if all\nthe glories of heaven and all the ghastliness of hell are flashed and\nflamed before you.' We, too, if we are to 'prophesy according to the\nproportion of faith,' must not leave out altogether references to a\nfuture life in its two departments, and such motives as may be based\nupon them; only, I think, we ought always to keep them in the same\nrelative amount to the whole of our teaching in which Christ kept them.\n\nThis parable, seeing that it _is_ a parable, of course cannot\nbe trusted as if it were a piece of simple dogmatic revelation, to\ngive us information, facts, so as to construct out of it a theory of\nthe other world. We are always in the double danger in parables, of\ntaking that for drapery which was meant to be essence, and taking\nthat for essence which was meant to be drapery. And so I do not\nprofess to read from this narrative any very definite and clear\nknowledge of the future; but I think that in the two words which I\nhave ventured to take as a text, we get the basis of very impressive\nthoughts with regard to the functions of memory in another world.\n\n'Son, remember!' It is the voice, the first voice, the perpetual\nvoice, which meets every man when he steps across the threshold of\nearth into the presence chamber of eternity. All the future is so\nbuilt upon and interwoven with the past, that for the saved and for\nthe lost alike this word might almost be taken as the motto of their\nwhole situation, as the explanation of their whole condition. Memory\nin another world is indispensable to the gladness of the glad, and\nstrikes the deepest note in the sadness of the lost. There can be no\nneed to dwell at any length on the simple introductory thought, that\nthere must be memory in a future state. Unless there were\nremembrance, there could be no sense of individuality. A man cannot\nhave any conviction that he is himself, but by constant, though\noften unconscious, operation of this subtle act of remembrance.\nThere can be no sense of personal identity except in proportion\nas there is clearness of recollection. Then again, if that future\nstate be a state of retribution, there must be memory. Otherwise,\nthere might be joy, and there might be sorrow, but the why and the\nwherefore of either would be entirely struck out of a man's\nconsciousness, and the one could not be felt as reward, nor the\nother as punishment. If, then, we are to rise from the grave the\nsame men that we are laid in it, and if the future life has this for\nits characteristic, that it is a state either of recompense and\nreward, or of retribution and suffering, then, for both, the\nclearness and constant action, of memory are certainly needed. But\nit is not to the simple fact of its existence that I desire to\ndirect your attention now. I wish, rather, to suggest to you one or\ntwo modifications under which it must apparently work in another\nworld. When men remember _there_, they will remember very\ndifferently from the way in which they remember _here_. Let us\nlook at these changes-constituting it, on the one hand, an\ninstrument of torture; and, on the other, a foundation of all our\ngladness.\n\nI. First, in another state, memory will be so widened as to take in\nthe whole life.\n\nWe believe that what a man is in this life, he is more in another,\nthat tendencies here become results yonder, that his sin, that his\nfalsehood, that his whole moral nature, be it good or bad, becomes\nthere what it is only striving to be here. We believe that in this\npresent life our capacities of all sorts are hedged in, thwarted,\ndamped down, diluted, by the necessity which there is for their\nworking through this material body of ours. We believe that death is\nthe heightening of a man's stature--if he be bad, the intensifying\nof his badness; if he be good, the strengthening of his goodness. We\nbelieve that the contents of the intellectual nature, the capacities\nof that nature also, are all increased by the fact of having done\nwith earth and having left the body behind. It is, I think, the\nteaching of common-sense, and it is the teaching of the Bible. True,\nthat for some, that growth will only be a growth into greater power\nof feeling greater sorrow. Such an one grows up into a Hercules; but\nit is only that the Nessus shirt may wrap round him more tightly,\nand may gnaw him with a fiercer agony. But whether saved or lost--he\nthat dies is greater than when yet living; and all his powers are\nintensified and strengthened by that awful experience of death and\nby what it brings with it.\n\nMemory partakes in the common quickening. There are not wanting\nanalogies and experiences in our present life to let us see that, in\nfact, when we talk about forgetting we ought to mean nothing more\nthan the temporary cessation of conscious remembrance. Everything\nwhich you do leaves its effect with you for ever, just as long-forgotten\nmeals are in your blood and bones to-day. Every act that a man performs\nis there. It has printed itself upon his soul, it has become a part of\nhimself: and though, like a newly painted picture, after a little while\nthe colours sink in, why is that? Only because they have entered into\nthe very fibre of the canvas, and have left the surface because they\nare incorporated with the substance, and they want but a touch of\nvarnish to flash out again! We forget _nothing_, in the sense of not\nbeing able, some time or another, to recall it; we forget much in the\nsense of ceasing for a time to have it in our thoughts.\n\nFor we know, in our own case, how strangely there come swimming up\nbefore us, out of the depths of the dim waters of oblivion--as one\nhas seen some bright shell drawn from the sunless sea-caves, and\ngleaming white and shapeless far down before we had it on the\nsurface--past thoughts, we know not whence or how. Some one of the\nmillion of hooks, with which all our life is furnished, has laid\nhold of some subtle suggestion which has been enough to bring them\nup into consciousness. We said we had forgotten them. What does it\nmean? Only that they had sunk into the deep, beneath our\nconsciousness, and lay there to be brought up when needful. There is\nnothing more strange than the way in which some period of my life,\nthat I supposed to be an entire blank--if I will think about it for\na little while, begins to glimmer into form. As the developing\nsolution brings out the image on the photographic plate, so the mind\nhas the strange power, by fixing the attention, as we say (a short\nword which means a long, mysterious thing) upon that past that is\nhalf-remembered and half-forgotten, of bringing it into clear\nconsciousness and perfect recollection. And, there are instances,\ntoo, of a still more striking kind, familiar to some of us how in\nwhat people call morbid states, men remember their childhood, which\nthey had forgotten for long years. You may remember that old story\nof the dying woman beginning to speak in a tongue unknown to all\nthat stood around her bed. When a child she had learned some\nnorthern language, in a far-off land. Long before she had learned to\nshape any definite remembrances of the place, she had been taken\naway, and not having used, had forgotten the speech. But at last\nthere rushed up again all the old memories, and the tongue of the\ndumb was loosed, and she spake! People would say, 'the action of\ndisease.' It may be, but that explains nothing. Perhaps in such\nstates the spirit is working in a manner less limited by the body\nthan in health, and so showing some slight prelude of its powers\nwhen it has shuffled off this mortal coil. But be that as it may,\nthese morbid phenomena, and the other more familiar facts already\nreferred to, unite to show us that the sphere of recollection is\nmuch wider than that occupied at any given moment by memory.\nRecollection is the servant of Memory, as our great poet tells us in\nhis wise allegory, and\n\n  'does on him still attend,\n  To reach whenever he for ought does send.'\n\nWe cannot lay aside anything that we have ever done or been so\nutterly but that that servant can find it and bring it to his lord.\nWe forget nothing so completely but that we shall be able to recall\nit. Of that awful power we may say, without irreverence, 'Thou hast\nset our iniquities before thee, our secret sins in the light of thy\ncountenance.'\n\nThe fragmentary remembrances which we have now, lift themselves\nabove the ocean of forgetfulness like islands in some Archipelago,\nthe summits of sister hills, though separated by the estranging sea\nthat covers their converging sides and the valleys where their roots\nunite. The solid land is there, though hidden. Drain off the sea,\nand there will be no more isolated peaks, but continuous land. In\nthis life we have but the island memories heaving themselves into\nsight, but in the next the Lord shall 'cause the sea to go back by\nthe breath of His mouth,' and the channels of the great deep of a\nhuman heart's experiences and actions shall be laid bare. 'There\nshall be no more sea'; but the solid land of a whole life will\nappear when God says, 'Son, remember!'\n\nSo much, then, for my first consideration--namely, that memory in a\nfuture state will comprehend the whole of life. Another thing is,\nthat memory in a future state will probably be so rapid as to\nembrace all the past life at once. We do not know, we have no\nconception of, the extent to which our thinking, and feeling, and\nremembrance, are made tardy by the slow vehicle of this bodily\norganisation in which the soul rides. But we have in our own lives\ninstances enough to make us feel that there lie in us dormant,\nmysterious powers by which the rapidity of all our operations of\nthought and feeling will be enhanced marvellously, like the\ndifference between a broad-wheeled waggon and an express train! At\nsome turning point of your life, when some great joy flashed, or\nsome great shadow darkened upon you all at once; when some crisis\nthat wanted an instantaneous decision appeared--why, what regions of\nthought, purpose, plan, resolution; what wilderness of desolate\nsorrow, and what paradises of blooming gladness, your soul has gone\nthrough in a moment. Well, then, take another illustration: A\nsleeper, feeling a light finger laid upon his shoulder, does not\nknow what it is; in an instant he awakes and says, 'Is it you?' but\nbetween that touch and that word there may be a whole life run\nthrough, a whole series of long events dreamt and felt. As on the\nlittle retina of an eye there can be painted on a scale\ninconceivably minute, every tree and mountain-top in the whole wide\npanorama--so, in an instant, one may run through almost a whole\nlifetime of mental acts. Then, again, you remember that\nillustration, often used on this subject, about the experience of\nthose who have been brought face to face with sudden death, and\nescaped it. The drowning man, when he comes to himself, tells us,\nthat in the interval betwixt the instant when he felt he was going\nand the passing away of consciousness, all his life stood before\nhim; as if some flash in a dark midnight had lighted up a whole\nmountain country--there it all was! Ah, brethren! we know nothing\nyet about the rapidity with which we may gather before us a whole\nseries of events; so that although we have to pass from one to\nanother, the succession may be so swift, as to produce in our own\nminds the effect of all being co-existent and simultaneous. As the\nchild flashing about him a bit of burning stick, may seem to make a\ncircle of flame, because the flame-point moves so quickly--so\nmemory, though it does go from point to point, and dwells for some\ninconceivably minute instant on each part of the remembrance, may\nyet be gifted with such lightning speed, with such rapidity and\nawful quickness of glance, as that to the man himself the effect\nshall be that his whole life is spread out there before him in one\ninstant, and that he, Godlike, sees the end and the beginning side\nby side. Yes; from the mountain of eternity we shall look down, and\nbehold the whole plain spread before us. Down here we get lost and\nconfused in the devious valleys that run off from the roots of the\nhills everywhere, and we cannot make out which way the streams are\ngoing, and what there is behind that low shoulder of hill yonder:\nbut when we get to the summit peak, and look down, it will all shape\nitself into one consistent whole, and we shall see it all at once.\nThe memory shall be perfect--perfect in the range of its grasp, and\nperfect in the rapidity with which it brings up all its objects\nbefore us at every instant.\n\nOnce more: it seems as if, in another world, memory would not only\ncontain the whole life, and the whole life simultaneously; but would\nperpetually attend or haunt us. A constant remembrance! It does not\nlie in our power even in this world, to decide very much whether we\nshall remember or forget. It does not come within a man's will to\nforget or to remember. He cannot say, 'I will remember'; for if he\ncould, he would have remembered already. He cannot say, 'I will\nforget'; for the very effort fixes his attention on the obnoxious\nthing. All that we can do, when we seek to remember, is to wander\nback to somewhere about that point in our life where the shy thing\nlurks, and hope to catch some sight of it in the leafy coverts: and\nall we can do, when we want to forget, is to try and fill our mind\nwith other subjects, and in the distractions of them to lose the\noppressive and burdensome thoughts. But we know that that is but a\npartial remedy, that we cannot succeed in doing it. There are\npresences that will not be put by. There are memories that\n_will_ start up before us, whether we are willing or not. Like\nthe leprosy in the Israelite's house, the foul spot works its way\nout through all the plaster and the paint; and the house is foul\nbecause it is there. Oh, my friend! you are a happy and a singular\nman if there is nothing in your life that you have tried to bury,\nand the obstinate thing _will_ not be buried, but meets you\nagain when you come away from its fancied grave. I remember an old\ncastle where they tell us of a foul murder committed in a vaulted\nchamber with a narrow window, by torchlight one night; and there,\nthey say, there are the streaks and stains of blood on the black\noak floor; and they have planed, and scrubbed, and planed again, and\nthought they were gone--but there they always are, and continually\nup comes the dull reddish-black stain, as if oozing itself out\nthrough the boards to witness to the bloody crime again! The\nsuperstitious fable is a type of the way in which a foul thing, a\nsinful and bitter memory--gets ingrained into a man's heart. He\ntries to banish it, and gets rid of it for a while. He goes back\nagain, and the spots are there, and will be there for ever; and the\nonly way to get rid of them is to destroy the soul in which they\nare.\n\nMemory is not all within the power of the will on earth: and\nprobably, memory in another world is still more involuntary and\nstill more constant. Why? Because I read in the Bible that there is\nwork in another world for God's servants to do; but I do not read\nthat there is work for anybody else but God's servants to do. The\nwork of an unforgiven sinner is done when he dies, and that not only\nbecause he is going into the state of retribution, but because no\nrebel's work is going to be suffered in that world. The time for\nthat is past. And so, if you will look, all the teachings of the\nBible about the future state of those who are not in blessedness,\ngive us this idea--a monotonous continuance of idleness, shutting\nthem up to their own contemplations, the memories of the past and\nthe agonies of the future. There are no distractions for such a man\nin another world. He has thought, he has conscience, he has\nremembrance. He has a sense of pain, of sin, of wrong, of loss. He\nhas one 'passive fixed endurance, all eternal and the same'; but I\ndo not read that his pain is anodyned and his sorrow soothed by any\nactivity that his hand finds to do. And, in a most tragic sense, we\nmay say, 'there is neither work, nor labour, nor device,' in that\ndark world where the fruits of sin are reaped in monotonous\nsuffering and ever-present pain. A memory, brethren, that\ni>will_ have its own way--what a field for sorrow and lamentation\nthat is, when God says at last, 'Now go--go apart; take thy life\nwith thee; read it over; see what thou hast done with it!' One old\nRoman tyrant had a punishment in which he bound the dead body of the\nmurdered to the living body of the murderer, and left them there\nscaffolded. And when that voice comes, 'Son, remember!' to the\nliving soul of the godless, unbelieving, impenitent man, there is\nbound to him the murdered past, the dead past, his own life; and, in\nMilton's awful and profound words,\n\n  'Which way I fly is hell--myself am hell!'\n\nThere is only one other modification of this awful faculty that I\nwould remind you of; and that is, that in a future life memory will\nbe associated with a perfectly accurate knowledge of the consequences\nand a perfectly sensitive conscience as to the criminality of the\npast. You will have cause and consequence put down before you, meeting\neach other at last. There will be no room then to say, 'I wonder how\nsuch and such a thing will work out,' 'I wonder how such a thing can\nhave come upon me'; but every one will have his whole life to look\nback upon, and will see the childish sin that was the parent of the\nfull-grown vice, and the everlasting sorrow that came out of that\nlittle and apparently transitory root. The conscience, which here\nbecomes hardened by contact with sin, and enfeebled because unheeded,\nwill then be restored to its early sensitiveness and power, as if the\nlabourer's horny palm were to be endowed again with the softness of\nthe infant's little hand. If you will take and think about that,\nbrother, _there_ is enough--without any more talk, without any\nmore ghastly, sensual external figures--_there_ is enough to make\nthe boldest tremble; a memory embracing all the past, a memory rapidly\ngrasping and constantly bringing its burden, a judgment which admits\nof no mistakes, and a conscience which has done with palliations and\nexcuses!\n\nIt is not difficult to see how that is an instrument of torture. It\nis more difficult to see how such a memory can be a source of\ngladness; and yet it can. The old Greeks were pressed with that\ndifficulty: they said to themselves, If a man remembers, there can\nbe no Elysium for him. And so they put the river of forgetfulness,\nthe waters of Lethe, betwixt life and the happy plains. Ah,\n_we_ do not want any river of oblivion betwixt us and everlasting\nblessedness. Calvary is on this side, and that is enough! Certainly\nit is one of the most blessed things about 'the faith that is in Christ\nJesus,' that it makes a man remember his own sinfulness with penitence,\nnot with pain--that it makes the memory of past transgressions full\nof solemn joy, because the memory of _past_ transgressions but brings\nto mind the depth and rushing fullness of that river of love which has\nswept them all away as far as the east is from the west. Oh, brother,\nbrother! you cannot forget your sins; but it lies within your own\ndecision whether the remembrance shall be thankfulness and blessedness,\nor whether it shall be pain and loss for ever. Like some black rock that\nheaves itself above the surface of a sunlit sea, and the wave runs\ndashing over it, and the spray, as it falls down its sides, is all\nrainbowed and lightened, and there comes beauty into the mighty\ngrimness of the black thing;--so a man's transgressions rear themselves\nup, and God's great love, coming sweeping itself against them and over\nthem, makes out of the sin an occasion for the flashing more brightly\nof the beauty of His mercy, and turns the life of the pardoned penitent\ninto a life of which even the sin is not pain to remember. So, then,\nlay your hand upon Christ Jesus. Put your heart into His keeping. Go\nto Him with your transgressions, He will forget them, and make it\npossible for you to remember them in such a way that the memory will\nbecome to you the very foundation of all your joy, and will make\nheaven's anthem deeper and more harmonious when you say, 'Now unto\nHim that hath washed us from our sins in His own blood, and hath\nmade us kings and priests unto God, unto Him be glory for ever and\never!' And, on the other hand, _if not_, then, 'Son, remember!'\nwill be the word that begins the future retribution, and shuts you\nup with a wasted past, with a gnawing conscience, and an upbraiding\nheart: to say,\n\n  'I backward cast my ee\n  On prospects drear!\n  And forward, though I canna see,\n  I guess and fear!'\n\n\n\n\nGOD'S SLAVES\n\n\n    'Doth He thank that servant because he did the things\n    that were commanded him! I trow not. 10. So likewise\n    ye, when ye shall have done all those things which are\n    commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants: we\n    have done that which was our duty to do.'\n    --LUKE xvii. 9-10.\n\nThere are two difficulties about these words. One is their apparent\nentire want of connection with what precedes--viz., the disciples'\nprayer, 'Lord, increase our faith,' and the other is the harshness\nand severity of tone which marks them, and the view of the less\nattractive side of man's relation to God which is thrown into\nprominence in them. He must be a very churlish master who never says\n'Thank you,' however faithful his servant's obedience may be. And he\nmust be a very inconsiderate master, who has only another kind of\nduty to lay upon the shoulders of the servant that has come in after\na long day's ploughing and feeding of cattle. Perhaps, however, the\none difficulty clears away the other, and if we keep firm hold of\nthe thought that the words of my text, and those which are\nassociated with them, are an answer to the prayer, 'Lord, increase\nour faith,' the stern and somewhat repelling characteristics of the\nwords may somewhat change.\n\nI. So I look, first, at the husk of apparent harshness and severity.\nThe relation between master and hired servant is not the one that is\nin view, but the relation between a master and the slave who is his\nproperty, who has no rights, who has no possessions, whose life and\ndeath and everything connected with him are at the absolute disposal\nof his master. It is a foul and wicked relation when existing\nbetween men, and it has been full of cruelty and atrocities. But\nJesus Christ lays His hand upon it, and says, 'That is the relation\nbetween men and God; that is the relation between men and Me.'\n\nAnd what is involved therein? Absolute authority; so that the slave\nis but, as it were, an animated instrument in the hand of the\nmaster, with no will of his own, and no rights and no possessions.\nThat is not all of our relation to God, blessed be His Name! But\nthat is _in_ our relation to Him, and the highest title that a\nman can have is the title which the Apostles in after days bound\nupon their foreheads as a crown of honour--'A slave of Jesus\nChrist.'\n\nThen, if that relation is laid as being the basis of all our\nconnection with God, whatever else there may be also involved, these\ntwo things which in the human relation are ugly and inconsiderate,\nand argue a very churlish and selfish nature on the part of the\nhuman master, belong essentially to our relation to God. 'Which of\nyou, having a servant, ploughing or feeding cattle, will say unto\nhim ... when he has come from the field, Go (immediately) and sit\ndown to meat, and will not rather say unto him, Make ready wherewith\nI may sup, and gird thyself and serve me, till I have eaten and\ndrunken: and afterward thou shalt eat and drink?' You will get your\nsupper by-and-by, but you are here to work, says the master, and\nwhen you have finished one task, that does not involve that you are\nto rest; it involves only that you are to take up another. And\nhowever wearisome has been the ploughing amongst the heavy clods all\nday long, and tramping up and down the furrows, when you come in you\nare to clean yourself up, and get my supper ready, 'and afterward\nthou shalt eat and drink.'\n\nAs I have said, such a speech would argue a harsh human master, but is\nthere not a truth which is not harsh in it in reference to us and God?\nDuty never ends. The eternal persistence through life of the obligation\nto service is what is taught us here, as being inherent in the very\nrelation between the Lord and Owner of us all and us His slaves.\nMoralists and irreligious teachers say grand things about the eternal\nsweep of the great law of duty. The Christian thought is the higher\none, 'Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid Thine hand upon\nme,' and wherever I am I am under obligation to serve Thee, and no past\nrecord of work absolves me from the work of the present. From the\ncradle to the grave I walk beneath an all-encompassing, overarching\nfirmament of duty. As long as we draw breath we are bound to the\nservice of Him whose slaves we are, and whose service is perfect freedom.\n\nSuch is the bearing of this apparently repulsive representation of\nour text, which is not so repulsive if you come to think about it.\nIt does not in the least set aside the natural craving for\nrecreation and relaxation and repose. It does not overlook God's\nobligation to keep His slave alive, and in good condition for doing\nHis work, by bestowing upon him the things that are needful for him,\nbut it does meet that temptation which comes to us all to take that\nrest which circumstances may make manifestly not God's will, and it\nsays to us, 'Forget the things that are behind, and reach forth unto\nthe things that are before.' You have done a long day's work with\nplough or sheep-crook. The reward for work is more work. Come away\nindoors now, and nearer the Master, prepare His table. 'Which of\nyou, having a servant, will not do so with him?' And that is how He\ndoes with us.\n\nThen, the next thought here, which, as I say, has a harsh exterior,\nand a bitter rind, is that one of the slave doing his work, and\nnever getting so much as 'thank you' for it. But if you lift this\ninterpretation too, into the higher region of the relation between\nGod and His slaves down here, a great deal of the harshness drops\naway. For what does it come to? Just to this, that no man among us,\nby any amount or completeness of obedience to the will of God\nestablishes claims on God for a reward. You have done your duty--so\nmuch the better for you, but is that any reason why you should be\ndecorated and honoured for doing it? You have done no more than your\nduty. 'So, likewise, ye, when ye have done all things that are\ncommanded you'--even if that impossible condition were to be\nrealised--'say we are unprofitable servants'; not in the bad sense\nin which the word is sometimes used, but in the accurate sense of\nnot having brought any profit or advantage, more than was His\nbefore, to the Master whom we have thus served. It is a blessed\nthing for a man to call _himself_ an unprofitable servant; it\nis an awful thing for the Master to call him one. If _we_ say\n'we are unprofitable servants,' we shall be likely to escape the\nsolemn words from the Lord's lips: 'Take ye away the unprofitable\nservant, and cast him into outer darkness.' There are two that may\nuse the word, Christ the Judge, and man the judged, and if the man\nwill use it, Christ will not. 'If we judge ourselves we shall not be\njudged.'\n\nNow, although, as I have said about the other part of this text,\nit is not meant to exhaust our relations to God, or to say the\nall-comprehensive word about the relation of obedience to blessedness;\nit is meant to say\n\n  'Merit lives from man to man,\n  And not from man, O Lord! to Thee.'\n\nNo one can reasonably build upon his own obedience, or his own work,\nnor claim as by right, for reward, heaven or other good. So my text\nis the anticipation of Paul's teaching about the impossibility of a\nman's being saved by his works, and it cuts up by the root, not only\nthe teaching as to a treasure of 'merits of the saints,' and 'works\nof supererogation,' and the like; but it tells us, too, that we must\nbeware of the germs of that self-complacent way of looking at\nourselves and our own obedience, as if they had anything at all to\ndo with our buying either the favour of God, or the rewards of the\nfaithful servant.\n\nII. Now, all that I have been saying may sound very harsh. Let us\ntake a second step, and try if we can find out the kernel of grace\nin the harsh husk.\n\nI hold fast by the one clue that Jesus Christ is here replying to\nthe Apostle's prayer, 'Lord, increase our faith.' He had been laying\ndown some very hard regulations for their conduct, and, naturally,\nwhen they felt how difficult it would be to come within a thousand\nmiles of what He had been bidding them, they turned to Him with that\nprayer. It suggests that faith is there, in living operation, or\nthey would not have prayed to Him for its increase. And how does He\ngo about the work of increasing it? In two ways, one of which does\nnot enter into my present subject. First, by showing the disciples\nthe power of faith, in order to stimulate them to greater effort for\nits possession. He promised that they might say to the fig tree, 'Be\nthou plucked up and planted in the sea,' and it should obey them.\nThe second way was by this context of which I am speaking now. How\ndoes it bear upon the Apostles' prayer? What is there in this\nteaching about the slave and his master, and the slave's work, and\nthe incompatibility of the notion of reward with the slave's\nservice, to help to strengthen faith? There is this that this\nteaching beats down every trace of self-confidence, and if we take\nit in and live by it, makes us all feel that we stand before God,\nwhatever have been our deeds of service, with no claims arising\nfrom any virtue or righteousness of our own. We come empty-handed.\nIf the servant who has done all that is commanded has yet to say, 'I\ncan ask nothing from Thee, because I have done it, for it was all in\nthe line of my duty,' what are we to say, who have done so little\nthat was commanded, and so much that was forbidden?\n\nSo, you see, the way to increased faith is not by any magical\ncommunication from Christ, as the Apostles thought, but by taking\ninto our hearts, and making operative in our lives, the great truth\nthat in us there is nothing that can make a claim upon God, and that\nwe must cast ourselves, as deserving nothing, wholly into His\nmerciful hands, and find ourselves held up by His great unmerited\nlove. Get the bitter poison root of self-trust out of you, and then\nthere is some chance of getting the wholesome emotion of absolute\nreliance on Him into you. Jesus Christ, if I might use a homely\nmetaphor, in these words pricks the bladder of self-confidence which\nwe are apt to use to keep our heads above water. And it is only when\nit is pricked, and we, like the Apostle, feel ourselves beginning to\nsink, that we fling out a hand to Him, and clutch at His\noutstretched hand, and cry, 'Lord, save me, I perish!' One way to\nincrease our faith is to be rooted and grounded in the assurance\nthat duty is perennial, and that our own righteousness establishes\nno claim whatever upon God.\n\nIII. Finally, we note the higher view into which, by faith, we come.\n\nI have been saying, with perhaps vain repetition, that the words of\nour text and context do not exhaust the whole truth of man's\nrelation to God. They do exhaust the truth of the relation of God to\nany man that has not faith in his heart, because such a man is a\nslave in the worst sense, and any obedience that he renders to God's\nwill externally is the obedience of a reluctant will, and is hard\nand harsh, and there is no end _to_ it, and no good _from_\nit. But if we accept the position, and recognise our own impotence,\nand non-desert, and humbly say, 'Not by works of righteousness which\nwe have done, but by His mercy He saves us,' then we come into a\nlarge place. The relation of master and slave does not cover all the\nground _then_. 'Henceforth, I call you not slaves, but  friends,' And\nwhen the wearied slave comes into the house, the new task is not\na new burden, for he is a son as well as a slave; but  the work is\na delight, and it is a joy to have something more to do for his Father.\nIf our service is the service of sons, sweetened by love, then there\nwill be abundant thanks from the Father, who is not only our owner,\nbut our lover.\n\nFor Christian service--that is to say, service based upon faith and\nrendered in love--_does_ minister delight to our Father in\nheaven, and He Himself has called it an 'odour of a sweet smell,\nacceptable unto God.' And if our service on earth has been thus\nelevated and transformed from the compulsory obedience of a slave\nto the joyful service of a son, then our reception when at sundown\nthe plough is left in the furrow and we come into the house will be\nall changed too. 'Which of you, having a servant, will say to him,\nGo and sit down to meat, and will not rather say to him, Make ready\nwhilst I eat and drink?' That is the law for earth, but for heaven\nit is this, 'Blessed are those servants whom the Lord, when He\ncometh, shall find watching. Verily, I say unto you, that He shall\ngird Himself, and make them to sit down to meat, and will come forth\nand serve them.' The husk is gone now, I think, and the kernel is\nleft. Loving service is beloved by God, and rewarded by the\nministering, as a servant of servants, to us by Him who is King of\nkings and Lord of lords.\n\n'Lord, increase our faith,' that we may so serve Thee on earth, and\nso be served by Thee in heaven.\n\n\n\n\nWHERE ARE THE NINE?\n\n\n    'And it came to pass, as He went to Jerusalem, that He\n    passed through the midst of Samaria and Galilee.\n    12. And as He entered into a certain village, there met\n    Him ten men that were lepers, which stood afar off:\n    13. And they lifted up their voices, and said, Jesus,\n    Master, have mercy on us. 14. And when He saw them, He\n    said unto them, Go show yourselves unto the priests.\n    And it came to pass, that, as they went, they were\n    cleansed. 15. And one of them, when he saw that he was\n    healed, turned back, and with a loud voice glorified\n    God. 16. And fell down on his face at His feet, giving\n    Him thanks: and he was a Samaritan. 17. And Jesus\n    answering said, Were there not ten cleansed? but where\n    are the nine? 18. There are not found that returned to\n    give glory to God, save this stranger. 19. And He said\n    unto him, Arise, go thy way, thy faith hath made thee\n    whole.'--LUKE xvii. 11-19.\n\nThe melancholy group of lepers, met with in one of the villages on\nthe borders of Samaria and Galilee, was made up of Samaritans and\nJews, in what proportion we do not know. The common misery drove\nthem together, in spite of racial hatred, as, in a flood, wolves\nand sheep will huddle close on a bit of high ground. Perhaps they\nhad met in order to appeal to Jesus, thinking to move Him by their\naggregated wretchedness; or possibly they were permanently\nsegregated from others, and united in a hideous fellowship.\n\nI. We note the lepers' cry and the Lord's strange reply. Of course\nthey had to stand afar off, and the distance prescribed by law\nobliged them to cry aloud, though it must have been an effort, for\none symptom of leprosy is a hoarse whisper. Sore need can\nmomentarily give strange physical power. Their cry indicates some\nknowledge. They knew the Lord's name, and had dim notions of His\nauthority, for He is addressed as Jesus and as Master. They knew\nthat He had power to heal, and they hoped that He had 'mercy,' which\nthey might win for themselves by entreaty. There was the germ of\ntrust in the cry forced from them by desperate need. But their\nconceptions of Him, and their consciousness of their own\nnecessities, did not rise above the purely physical region, and He\nwas nothing to them but a healer.\n\nStill, low and rude as their notions were, they did present a point\nof contact for Christ's 'mercy,' which is ever ready to flow into\nevery heart that is lowly, as water will into all low levels. Jesus\nseems to have gone near to the lepers, for it was 'when He saw,' not\nwhen He heard, them that He spoke. It did not become Him to 'cry,\nnor cause His voice to be heard in the street,' nor would He cure as\nfrom afar, but He approaches those whom He heals, that they may see\nHis face, and learn by it His compassion and love. His command\nrecognised and honoured the law, but its main purpose, no doubt, was\nto test, and thereby to strengthen, the leper's trust. To set out to\nthe priest while they felt themselves full of leprosy would seem\nabsurd, unless they believed that Jesus could and would heal them.\nHe gives no promise to heal, but asks for reliance on an implied\npromise. He has not a syllable of sympathy; His tender compassion is\ncarefully covered up. He shuts down, as it were, the lantern-slide,\nand not a ray gets through. But the light was behind the screen all\nthe while. We, too, have sometimes to act on the assumption that\nJesus has granted our desires, even while we are not conscious that\nit is so. We, too, have sometimes to set out, as it were, for the\npriests, while we still feel the leprosy.\n\nII. We note the healing granted to obedient faith. The whole ten set\noff at once. They had got all they wanted from the Lord, and had no\nmore thought about Him. So they turned their backs on Him. How\nstrange it must have been to feel, as they went along, the gradual\ncreeping of soundness into their bones! How much more confidently\nthey must have stepped out, as the glow of returning health asserted\nitself more and more! The cure is a transcendent, though veiled,\nmanifestation of Christ's power; for it is wrought at a distance,\nwithout even a word, and with no vehicle. It is simply the silent\nforth-putting of His power. 'He spake, and it was done' is much, for\nonly a word which is divine can affect matter. But 'He willed, and\nit was done,' is even more.\n\nIII. We note the solitary instance of thankfulness. The nine might\nhave said, 'We are doing what the Healer bade us do; to go back to\nHim would be disobedience.' But a grateful heart knows that to\nexpress its gratitude is the highest duty, and is necessary for its\nown relief. How like us all it is to hurry away clutching our\nblessings, and never cast back a thought to the giver! This leper's\nvoice had returned to Him, and his 'loud' acknowledgments were very\ndifferent from the strained croak of his petition for healing. He\nknew that he had two to thank--God and Jesus; he did not know that\nthese two were one. His healing has brought him much nearer Jesus\nthan before, and now he can fall at His feet. Thankfulness knits us\nto Jesus with a blessed bond. Nothing is so sweet to a loving heart\nas to pour itself out in thanks to Him.\n\n'And he was a Samaritan.' That may be Luke's main reason for telling\nthe story, for it corresponds to the universalistic tendency of his\nGospel. But may we not learn the lesson that the common human\nvirtues are often found abundantly in nations and individuals\nagainst whom we are apt to be deeply prejudiced? And may we not\nlearn another lesson--that heretics and heathen may often teach\northodox believers lessons, not only of courtesy and gratitude, but\nof higher things? A heathen is not seldom more sensitive to the\nbeauty of Christ, and more touched by the story of His sacrifice,\nthan we who have heard of Him all our days.\n\nIV. We note Christ's sad wonder at man's ingratitude and joyful\nrecognition of 'this stranger's' thankfulness. A tone of surprise as\nwell as of sadness can be detected in the pathetic double questions.\n'Were not _the_ ten'--all of them, the ten who stood there but\na minute since--'cleansed? but where are the nine?' Gone off with\ntheir gift, and with no spark of thankfulness in their selfish\nhearts. 'Were there none found that returned to give glory to God,\nsave this stranger?' The numbers of the thankless far surpass those\nof the thankful. The fewness of the latter surprises and saddens\nJesus still. Even a dog knows and will lick the hand that feeds it,\nbut 'Israel doth not know, My people doth not consider.' We increase\nthe sweetness of our gifts by thankfulness for them. We taste them\ntwice when we ruminate on them in gratitude. They live after their\ndeath when we bless God and thank Jesus for them all. We impoverish\nourselves still more than we dishonour Him by the ingratitude which\nis so crying a fault. One sorrow hides many joys. A single crumpled\nrose-leaf made the fairy princess's bed uncomfortable. Some of us\ncan see no blue in our sky if one small cloud is there. Both in\nregard to earthly and spiritual blessings we are all sinners by\nunthankfulness, and we all lose much thereby.\n\nJesus rejoiced over 'this stranger,' and gave him a greater gift at\nlast than he had received when the leprosy was cleared from his\nflesh. Christ's raising of him up, and sending him on his way to\nresume his interrupted journey to the priest, was but a prelude to\n'Thy faith hath made thee whole,' or, as the Revised Version margin\nreads, 'saved thee.' Surely we may take that word in its deepest\nmeaning, and believe that a more fatal leprosy melted out of this\nman's spirit, and that the faith which had begun in a confidence\nthat Jesus could heal, and had been increased by obedience to the\ncommand which tried it, and had become more awed and enlightened\nby experience of bodily healing, and been deepened by finding a\ntongue to express itself in thankfulness, rose at last to such\napprehension of Jesus, and such clinging to Him in grateful love,\nas availed to save 'this stranger' with a salvation that healed\nhis spirit, and was perfected when the once leprous body was left\nbehind, to crumble into dust.\n\n\n\n\nTHREE KINDS OP PRAYING\n\n\n    'And He spake a parable unto them to this end, that\n    men ought always to pray, and not to faint; 2. Saying,\n    There was in a city a judge, which feared not God,\n    neither regarded man: 3. And there was a widow in that\n    city; and she came unto him, saying, Avenge me of mine\n    adversary. 4. And he would not for a while: but\n    afterward he said within himself, Though I fear not\n    God, nor regard man; 5. Yet because this widow\n    troubleth me, I will avenge her, lest by her continual\n    coming she weary me. 6. And the Lord said, Hear what\n    the unjust judge saith. 7. And shall not God avenge\n    His own elect, which cry day and night unto Him,\n    though He bear long with them! 8. I tell you that He\n    will avenge them speedily. Nevertheless when the Son\n    of man cometh, shall He find faith on the earth?\n    9. And He spake this parable unto certain which\n    trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and\n    despised others: 10. Two men went up into the temple\n    to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican.\n    11. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself,\n    God, I thank thee, that I am not as Other men are,\n    extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this\n    publican. 11. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes\n    of all that I possess. 13. And the publican, standing\n    afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto\n    heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be\n    merciful to me a sinner. 14. I tell you, this man went\n    down to his house justified rather than the other: for\n    every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and\n    he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.'\n    --LUKE xviii. 1-14.\n\nThe two parables in this passage are each prefaced by Luke's\nexplanation of their purpose. They are also connected by being both\nconcerned with aspects of prayer. But the second was apparently not\nspoken at the same time as the first, but is put here by Luke as in\nan appropriate place.\n\nI. The wearisome widow and the unrighteous judge. The similarities\nand dissimilarities between this parable and that in chapter xi. 5-8\nare equally instructive. Both take a very unlovely character as open\nto the influence of persistent entreaty; both strongly underscore\nthe unworthiness and selfishness of the motive for yielding. Both\nexpect the hearers to use common-sense enough to take the sleepy\nfriend and the worried judge as contrasts to, not parables, of Him\nto whom Christians pray. But the judge is a much worse man than the\nowner of the loaves, and his denial of the justice which it was his\noffice to dispense is a crime; the widow's need is greater than the\nman's, and the judge's cynical soliloquy, in its unabashed avowal of\ncaring for neither God nor man, and being guided only by regard to\ncomfort, touches a deep depth of selfishness. The worse he was, the\nmore emphatic is the exhortation to persistence. If the continual\ndropping of the widow's plea could wear away such a stone as that,\nits like could wear away anything. Yes, and suppose that the judge\nwere as righteous and as full of love and wish to help as this judge\nwas of their opposites; suppose that instead of the cry being a\nweariness it was a delight; suppose, in short, that, to go back to\nchapter xi., we 'call on Him as Father who, without respect of\npersons, judgeth': then our 'continual coming' will surely not be\nless effectual than hers was.\n\nBut we must note the spiritual experience supposed by the parable to\nbelong to the Christian life. That forlorn figure of the widow, with\nall its suggestions of helplessness and oppression, is Christ's\npicture of His Church left on earth without Him. And though of\ncourse it is a very incomplete representation, it is a true\npresentation of one side and aspect of the devout life on earth. 'In\nthe world ye shall have tribulation,' and the truer His servants are\nto Him, and the more their hearts are with Christ in God, the more\nthey will feel out of touch with the world, and the more it will\ninstinctively be their 'adversary.' If the widow does not feel the\nworld's enmity, it will generally be because she is not a 'widow\nindeed.'\n\nAnd another notable fact of Christian experience underlies the\nparable; namely that the Church's cry for protection from the\nadversary is often apparently unheard. In chapter xi. the prayer was\nfor supply of necessities, here it is for the specific blessing of\nprotection from the adversary. Whether that is referred to the needs\nof the Church or of the individual, it is true that usually the help\nsought is long delayed. It is not only 'souls under the altar' that\nhave to cry 'How long, O Lord, dost Thou not avenge?' One thinks of\nyears of persecution for whole communities, or of long, weary days\nof harassment and suffering for individuals, of multitudes of\nprayers and groans sent up into a heaven that, for all the answers\nsent down, might as well be empty, and one feels it hard to hold by\nthe faith that 'verily, there is a God that' heareth.\n\nWe have all had times when our faith has staggered, and we have\nfound no answer to our heart's question: 'Why tarry the wheels of\nHis chariot?' Many of us have felt what Mary and Martha felt when\n'Jesus abode still two days in the place where He was' after He had\nreceived their message, in which they had been so sure of His coming\nat once when He heard that 'he whom Thou lovest is sick,' that they\ndid not ask Him to come. The delays of God's help are a constant\nfeature in His providence, and, as Jesus says here, they are but too\nlikely to take the life out of faith.\n\nBut over against these we have to place Jesus' triumphant assurance\nhere: 'He will avenge them speedily.' Yes, the longest delay may yet\nbe 'right early,' for heaven's clock does not beat at the same rate\nas our little chronometers. God is 'the God of patience,' and He has\nwaited for millenniums for the establishment of His kingdom on\nearth; His 'own elect' may learn long-suffering from Him, and need\nto take to heart the old exhortation, 'If the vision tarry, wait for\nit, for it will surely come, and will not tarry.' Yes, God's delays\nare not delays, but are for our profit that we may always pray and\nnot faint, and may keep alight the flame of the sure hope that the\nSon of man cometh, and that in His coming all adversaries shall be\ndestroyed, and the widow, no longer a widow, but the bride, go in to\nthe feast and forget her foes, and 'the days of her mourning be\nended.'\n\nII. The Pharisee and the publican.\n\nLuke's label on this parable tells us that it was spoken to a group\nof the very people who were personated in it by the Pharisee. One\ncan fancy their faces as they listened, and how they would love the\nspeaker! Their two characteristics are self-righteousness and\ndepreciation of every one else, which is the natural result of such\ntrust in self. The self-adulation was absolute, the contempt was\nall-embracing, for the Revised Version rightly renders 'set\n_all_ others at nought.' That may sound exaggerated, but the\nway to judge of moral characteristics is to take them in their\nfullest development and to see what they lead to then. The two\npictures heighten each other. The one needs many strokes to bring\nout the features, the other needs but one. Self-righteousness takes\nmany shapes, penitence has but one emotion to express, one cry to\nutter.\n\nEvery word in the Pharisee's prayer is reeking with self-complacency.\nEven the expression 'prayed with himself' is significant, for it\nsuggests that the prayer was less addressed to God than to himself,\nand also that his words could scarcely be spoken in the hearing of\nothers, both because of their arrogant self-praise and of their\ninsolent calumnies of 'all the rest.' It was not prayer to God, but\nsoliloquy in his own praise, and it was in equal parts adulation of\nhimself and slander of other men. So it never went higher than the\ninner roof of the temple court, and was, in a very fatal sense, 'to\nhimself.'\n\nGod is complimented with being named formally at first, and in the\nfirst two words, 'I thank thee,' but that is only formal\nintroduction, and in all the rest of his prayer there is not a trace\nof praying. Such a self-satisfied gentleman had no need to ask for\nanything, so he brought no petitions. He uses the conventional\nlanguage of thanksgiving, but his real meaning is to praise himself\nto God, not to thank God for himself. God is named once. All the\nrest is I, I, I. He had no longing for communion, no aspiration, no\nemotion.\n\nHis conception of righteousness was mean and shallow. And as St.\nBernard notes, he was not so much thankful for being righteous as\nfor being alone in his goodness. No doubt he was warranted in\ndisclaiming gross sins, but he was glad to be free from them, not\nbecause they were sins, but because they were vulgar. He had no\nright to fling mud either on 'all the rest' or on 'this publican,'\nand if he had been really praying or giving thanks he would have had\nenough to think of in God and himself without casting sidelong and\ndepreciatory glances at his neighbours. He who truly prays 'sees no\nman any more,' or if he does, sees men only as subjects for\nintercession, not for contempt. The Pharisee's notion of\nrighteousness was primarily negative, as consisting in abstinence\nfrom flagrant sins, and, in so far as it was positive, it dealt\nentirely with ceremonial acts. Such a starved and surface conception\nof righteousness is essential to self-righteousness, for no man who\nsees the law of duty in its depth and inwardness can flatter himself\nthat he has kept it. To fast twice a week and to give tithes of all\nthat one acquired were acts of supererogation, and are proudly\nrecounted as if God should feel much indebted to the doer for paying\nHim more than was required. The Pharisee makes no petitions. He\nstates his claims, and tacitly expects that God will meet them.\n\nFew words are needed to paint the publican; for his estimate of\nhimself is simple and one, and what he wants from God is one thing,\nand one only. His attitude expresses his emotions, for he does not\nventure to go near the shining example of all respectability and\nrighteousness, nor to lift his eyes to heaven. Like the penitent\npsalmist, his iniquities have taken hold on him, so that he is 'not\nable to look up.' Keen consciousness of sin, true sorrow for sin,\nearnest desire to shake off the burden of sin, lowly trust in God's\npardoning mercy, are all crowded into his brief petition. The arrow\nthus feathered goes straight up to the throne; the Pharisee's prayer\ncannot rise above his own lips.\n\nJesus does not leave His hearers to apply the 'parable,' but drives\nits application home to them, since He knew how keen a thrust was\nneeded to pierce the triple breastplate of self-righteousness. The\npublican was 'justified'; that is, accounted as righteous. In the\njudgment of heaven, which is the judgment of truth, sin forsaken is\nsin passed away. The Pharisee condensed his contempt into\n'_this_ publican'; Jesus takes up the 'this' and turns it into\na distinction, when He says, '_this man_ went down to his house\njustified.' God's condemnation of the Pharisee and acceptance of the\npublican are no anomalous aberration of divine justice, for it is a\nuniversal law, which has abundant exemplifications, that he that\nexalteth himself is likely to be humbled, and he that humbles\nhimself to be exalted. Daily life does not always yield examples\nthereof, but in the inner life and as concerns our relations to God,\nthat law is absolutely and always true.\n\n\n\n\nENTERING THE KINGDOM\n\n\n    'And they brought unto Him also infants, that He would\n    touch them: but when His disciples saw it, they rebuked\n    them. 16. But Jesus called them unto Him, and said,\n    Suffer little children to come unto Me, and forbid\n    them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.\n    17. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive\n    the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise\n    enter therein. 18. And a certain ruler asked Him,\n    saying, Good Master, what shall I do to inherit\n    eternal life? 19. And Jesus said unto him, Why callest\n    thou Me good? none is good, save one, that is, God.\n    20. Thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit\n    adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false\n    witness, Honour thy father and thy mother. 21. And he\n    said, All these have I kept from my youth up. 22. Now\n    when Jesus heard these things, He said unto him, Yet\n    lackest thou one thing: sell all that thou hast, and\n    distribute unto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure\n    in heaven: and come, follow Me. 23. And when he heard\n    this, he was very sorrowful: for he was very rich.\n    24. And when Jesus saw that he was very sorrowful He\n    said, How hardly shall they that have riches enter\n    into the kingdom of God? 25. For it is easier for a\n    camel to go through a needle's eye, than for a rich\n    man to enter into the kingdom of God. 26. And they\n    that heard it said, Who then can be saved? 27. And He\n    said, The things which are impossible with men are\n    possible with God. 28. Then Peter said, Lo, we have\n    left all, and followed Thee. 29. And He said unto\n    them, Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath\n    left house, or parents, or brethren, or wife, or\n    children, for the kingdom of God's sake, 30. Who shall\n    not receive manifold more in this present time, and in\n    world to come life everlasting.'--LUKE xviii. 15-30.\n\nIn this section Luke rejoins the other two Evangelists, from whom\nhis narrative has diverged since Luke ix. 51. All three bring\ntogether these two incidents of the children in Christ's arms and\nthe young ruler. Probably they were connected in time as well as in\nsubject. Both set forth the conditions of entering the kingdom,\nwhich the one declares to be lowliness and trust, and the other to\nbe self-renunciation.\n\nI. We have the child-likeness of the subjects of the kingdom. No\ndoubt there was a dash of superstition in the impulse that moved the\nparents to bring their children to Jesus, but it was an eminently\nnatural desire to win a good man's blessing, and one to which every\nparent's heart will respond. It was not the superstition, but the\nintrusive familiarity, that provoked the disciples' rebuke. A great\nman's hangers-on are always more careful of his dignity than he is,\nfor it increases their own importance.\n\nThe tender age of the children is to be noted. They were 'babes,'\nand had to be brought, being too young to walk, and so having\nscarcely yet arrived at conscious, voluntary life. It is 'of such'\nthat the subjects of the kingdom are composed. What, then, are the\nqualities which, by this comparison, Jesus requires? Certainly not\ninnocence, which would be to contradict all his teaching and to shut\nout the prodigals and publicans, and clean contrary to the whole\nspirit of Luke's Gospel. Besides, these scarcely conscious infants\nwere not 'innocent,' for they had not come to the age of which\neither innocence or guilt can be predicated. What, then, had they\nwhich the children of the kingdom must have?\n\nPerhaps the sweet and meek little 131st Psalm puts us best on the\ntrack of the answer. It may have been in our Lord's mind; it\ncertainly corresponds to His thought. 'My heart is not haughty, nor\nmine eyes lofty.... I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a\nweaned child with his mother.' The infant's lowliness is not yet\nhumility; for it is instinct rather than virtue. It makes no claims,\nthinks no lofty thoughts of self; in fact, has scarcely begun to\nknow that there is a self at all. On the other hand, clinging trust\nis the infant's life. It, too, is rudimentary and instinctive, but\nthe impulse which makes the babe nestle in its mother's bosom may\nwell stand for a picture of the conscious trust which the children\nof the kingdom must have. The child's instinct is the man's virtue.\nWe have\n\n  'To travel back\n  And tread again that ancient track,'\n\nregaining as the conscious temper of our spirits those excellences\nof humility and trust of which the first faint types may be seen in\nthe infant in arms. The entrance gate is very low, and, if we hold\nour heads high, we shall not get through it. It must be on our hands\nand knees that we go in. There is no place in the kingdom for those\nwho trust in themselves. We must rely wholly on God manifest in His\nSon.\n\nSo intent is Luke in pointing the lesson that he passes by in\nsilence the infinitely beautiful and touching incident which the\nworld perhaps knows better than any other in our Lord's life--that\nof His taking the infants in His arms and blessing them. In many\nways that incident would have been peculiarly suitable for this\nGospel, which delights to bring out the manhood and universal\nbeneficence of Jesus. But if Luke knew of it, he did not care to\nbring in anything which would weaken the lesson of the conditions of\nentering the kingdom.\n\nII. We have self-renunciation as the condition of entering the\nkingdom. The conversation with the ruler (vs. 18-23) sets forth its\nnecessity; the sad exclamation to the bystanders (vs. 24-27) teaches\nits difficulty; and the dialogue with Peter as representing the\ntwelve (vs. 28-30), its reward.\n\n(1) The necessity of self-renunciation. The ruler's question has\nmuch blended good and evil. It expresses a true earnestness, a\ndissatisfaction with self, a consciousness of unattained bliss and a\nlonging for it, a felt readiness to take any pains to secure it, a\nconfidence in Christ's guidance--in short, much of the child spirit.\nBut it has also a too light estimate of what good is, a mistaken\nnotion that 'eternal life' can be won by external deeds, which\nimplies fatal error as to its nature and his own power to do these.\nThis superficial estimate of goodness, and this over confidence in\nhis ability to do good acts, are the twin mistakes against which\nChrist's treatment of him is directed.\n\nAdopting Luke's version of our Lord's answer, the counter-question,\nwhich begins it, lays hold of the polite address, which had slipped\nfrom the ruler's lips as mere form, and bids him widen out his\nconceptions of 'good.' Jesus does not deny that He has a right to\nthe title, but questions this man's right to give it Him. The ruler\nthought of Jesus only as a man, and, so thinking, was too ready with\nhis adjective. Conventional phrases of compliment may indicate much\nof the low notions from which they spring. He who is so liberal with\nhis ascriptions of goodness needs to have his notions of what it is\nelevated. Jesus lays down the great truth which this man, in his\nconfidence that he by his own power could do any good needed for\neternal life, was perilously forgetting. God is the only good, and\ntherefore all human goodness must come from Him; and if the ruler is\nto do 'good,' he must first be good, by receiving goodness from God.\n\nBut the saying has an important bearing on Christ's character. The\nworld calls Him good. Why? There is none good but God. So we are\nface to face with this dilemma--Either Jesus Christ is God manifest\nin the flesh, or He is not good.\n\nHaving thus tried to deepen his conceptions, and awaken his\nconsciousness of imperfection, our Lord meets the man on his own\nground by referring him to the Law, which abundantly answered his\ninquiry. The second half of the commandments are alone quoted\nby Him; for they have especially to do with conduct, and the\ninfractions of them are more easily recognised than those of the\nfirst. The ruler expected that some exceptional and brilliant deeds\nwould be pointed out and he is relegated to the old homely duties,\nwhich it is gross crime not to do.\n\nA shade of disappointment and impatience is in his protestation that\nhe had done all these ever since he was a lad. No doubt he had, and\nhis coming to Jesus confessed that though he had, the doing had not\nbrought him 'eternal life.' Are there not many youthful hearts which\nwould have to say the same, if they would be frank with themselves?\nThey have some longings after a bliss and calm which they feel is\nnot theirs. They have kept within the lines of that second half of\nthe Decalogue, but that amount and sort of 'good thing' has not\nbrought peace. Jesus looks on all such as He did on this young man,\n'loves' them, and speaks further to them as He did to him. What\nwas lacking? The soul of goodness, without which these other things\nwere 'dead works.' And what is that soul? Absolute self-renunciation\nand following Christ. For this man the former took the shape of\nparting with his wealth, but that external renunciation in itself\nwas as 'dead' and impotent to bring eternal life as all his other\ngood acts had been. It was precious as a means to an end--the\nentrance into the number of Christ's disciples; and as an expression\nof that inward self-surrender which is essential for discipleship.\n\nThe real stress of the condition is in its second half, 'Follow me.'\nHe who enters the company of Christ's followers enters the kingdom,\nand has eternal life. If he does not do that, he may give his goods\nto feed the poor, and it profiteth him nothing. Eternal life is not\nthe external wages for external acts, but the outcome and consequence\nof yielding self to Jesus, through whom goodness, which keeps the\nlaw, flows into the soul.\n\nThe requirement pierced to the quick. The man loved the world more\nthan eternal life, after all. But though he went away, he went\nsorrowful; and that was perhaps the presage that he would come back.\n\n(2) Jesus follows him with sad yearning, and, we may be sure, still\nsought to draw him back. His exclamation is full of the charity\nwhich makes allowance for temptation. It speaks a universal truth,\nnever more needed than in our days, when wealth has flung its golden\nchains round so many professing Christians. How few of us believe\nthat it gets harder for us to be disciples as we grow richer! There\nare multitudes in our churches who would be far nearer Christ than\nthey are ever likely to be, if they would literally obey the\ninjunction to get rid of their wealth.\n\nWe are too apt to take such commands as applicable only to the\nindividuals who received them, whereas, though, no doubt, the\nspirit, and not the letter, is the universal element in them, there\nare far more of us than we are willing to confess, who need to obey\nthe letter in order to keep the spirit. What a depth of vulgar\nadoration of the power of money is in the disciples' exclamation,\n'If rich men cannot get into the kingdom, who can get in!' Or\nperhaps it rather means, If self-renunciation is the condition, who\ncan fulfil it? The answer points us all to the only power by which\nwe can do good, and overcome self; namely by God's help. God is\n'good,' and we can be good too, if we look to Him. God will fill our\nsouls with such sweetness that earth will not be hard to part with.\n\n(3) The last paragraph of this passage teaches the reward of\nself-renunciation. Peter shoves his oar in, after his fashion. It\nwould have been better if he had not boasted of their surrender,\nbut yet it was true that they had given up all. Only a fishing-boat\nand a parcel of old nets, indeed, but these were all they had to\ngive; and God's store, which holds His children's surrendered\nvaluables, has many things of small value in it--cups of cold water\nand widows' mites lying side by side with crowns and jewels.\n\nSo Jesus does not rebuke the almost innocent self-congratulation,\nbut recognises in it an appeal to his faithfulness. It was really a\nprayer, though it sounded like a vaunt, and it is answered by\nrenewed assurances. To part with outward things for Christ's sake or\nfor the kingdom's sake--which is the same thing--is to win them\nagain with all their sweetness a hundred-fold sweeter. Gifts given\nto Him come back to the giver mended by His touch and hallowed by\nlying on His altar. The present world yields its full riches only to\nthe man who surrenders all to Jesus. And the 'eternal life,' which\nthe ruler thought was to be found by outward deeds, flows\nnecessarily into the heart which is emptied of self, that it may be\nfilled with Him who is the life, and will be perfected yonder.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN THAT STOPPED JESUS\n\n\n    'And Jesus stood, and commanded him to be brought\n    unto Him: and when he was come near, He asked him,\n    41. Saying, What wilt thou that I shall do unto\n    thee?'--LUKE xviii. 40-41.\n\nThis story of the man that stopped Christ is told by the three\n'Synoptic' Evangelists, and it derives a special value from having\noccurred within a week of the Crucifixion. You remember how\ngraphically Mark tells how the blind man hears who is passing and\nimmediately begins to cry with a loud voice to Christ to have mercy\nupon him; how the officious disciples--a great deal more concerned\nfor the Master's dignity than He was Himself--tried to silence him;\nand how, with a sturdy persistence and independence of externals\nwhich often goes along with blindness, 'he cried the more a great\ndeal' because they did try, and then how he won the distinction of\nbeing the man that stopped Christ. When Jesus stood still, and\ncommanded him to be called, the crowd wheeled right round at once, and\ninstead of hindering, encumbered him with help, and bade him to 'rise,\nand be of good cheer.' Then he flings away some poor rag that he had\nhad to cover himself sitting there, and wearing his under-garment\nonly, comes to Christ, and Jesus asks, 'What do you want?' A promise\nin the shape of a question. Bartimaeus knows what he wants, and\nanswers without hesitation, and so he gets his request.\n\nNow, I think in all this incident, and especially in its centre\npart, which I have read, there are great lessons for us. And the\nfirst of them is, I see here a wonderful revelation of Christ's\nquick sympathy at a moment when He was most absorbed.\n\nI said that all this occurred within a week of our Lord's\nCrucifixion. If you will recall the way in which that last journey\nto Jerusalem is described in the Evangelists, you will see that\nthere was something very extraordinary about the determination and\ntension of spirit which impelled Jesus along the road, all the\nway from Galilee. Mark says that the disciples followed and were\namazed. There was something quite unlike what they had been\naccustomed to, in His face and bearing, and it was so strange to\nthem that they were puzzled and frightened. We read, too, that their\namazement and fright prevented them from going very near Him on the\nroad; 'as they _followed_ they were afraid.' Then the story\ngoes on to tell how James and John, with their arrogant wish, did\ndraw closer to Him, the rest of them lagging behind, conscious of a\ncertain unaccustomed distance between Him and them, which only the\nambitious two dared to diminish. Further, one of the Evangelists\nspeaks of His face being 'set' to go to Jerusalem, the gentle\nlineaments fixed in a new expression of resolution and absorption.\nThe Cross was flinging its shadow over Him. He was bracing Himself\nup for the last struggle. If ever there was a moment of His life\nwhen we might have supposed that He would be oblivious of externals,\nand especially of the individual sorrows of one poor blind beggar\nsitting by the roadside, it was that moment. But however plunged in\ngreat thoughts about the agonising suffering that He was going to\nfront, and the grand work that He was going to do, and the great\nvictory that He was going to win so soon, He had\n\n  'A heart at leisure from itself\n  To soothe and sympathise.'\n\nEven at that supreme hour He stood still and commanded him to be\ncalled. I wonder if it is saying too much to say that in the\nexercise of that power of healing and helping Bartimaeus, Jesus\nfound some relief from the pressure of impending sorrow.\n\nBrethren, is not that a lesson for us all? It is not spiritualising,\nallegorising, cramming meanings into an incident that are not in it,\nwhen we say--Think of Jesus Christ as one of ourselves, knowing that\nHe was going to His death within a week, and then think of Him\nturning to this poor man. Is not that a pattern for us? We are often\nmore selfish in our sorrows than in our joys. Many of us are inclined,\nwhen we are weighed down by personal sorrows, to say, 'As long as I\nhave this heavy weight lying on my heart, how can you expect me to\ntake an interest in the affairs of others, or to do Christian work,\nor to rise to the calls of benevolence and the cries of need?' We do\nnot expect _you_ to do it; but Jesus Christ did it, 'leaving us\nan example that we should follow in His steps.' Next to the blessed\ninfluences of God's own Spirit, and the peace-bringing act of submission,\nthere is no such comfort for sorrow, as to fling ourselves into others'\ngriefs, and to bear others' burdens. Our Lord, with His face set like\na flint, on the road to the Cross, but yet sufficiently free of heart\nto turn to Bartimaeus, reads a lesson that rebukes us all, and should\nteach us all.\n\nFurther, do we not see here a beautiful concrete instance, on the\nlower plane, of the power of earnest desire.\n\nNo enemy could have stopped Christ on that road; no opposition could\nhave stopped Him, no beseeching on the part of loving and ignorant\nfriends, repeating the temptation in the wilderness--or the foolish\nwords of Peter, 'This shall not be unto Thee,' could have stopped\nHim. He would have trodden down all such flimsy obstacles, as a lion\n'from the thickets of Jordan' crashes through the bulrushes, but\nthis cry stopped Him, 'Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me,\nand the Cross and all else that He was hastening to, great as it was\nfor the world, had to wait its turn, for something else had to be\ndone first. There was noise enough on the road, the tramp of many\nfeet, the clatter of many eager tongues, but the voice of one poor\nman sitting in the dust there by the roadside, found its way through\nall the noise to Christ's ears. 'Which things are an allegory.'\nThere is an ocean of praise always, as I might so say breaking upon\nChrist's Throne, but the little stream of my petitions flows\ndistinguishable through all that sea. As one of our poets says, we\nmay even think of Him as 'missing my little human praise' when the\nvoice of one poor boy was not heard. Surely amidst all the\nencouragements that we have to believe that our cry is not sent up\ninto an empty heaven, nor into deaf ears, and that all the multitude\nof creatures that wait before that Throne do not prevent the\nindividualising knowledge and the individualising love of Jesus\nChrist from coming straight to every one of us, this little incident\nis not the least instructive and precious. He that heard Bartimaeus\nwill hear us.\n\nIn like manner, may I not say that here we have an illustration of\nhow Christ, who has so much besides to do, would suspend other work,\nif it were needful, in order to do what we need? As I have said, the\nrest had to wait. Bartimaeus stopped Christ. And our hand, if it be\nthe hand of faith, put out to the hem of the garment as Jesus of\nNazareth passeth by, will so far stop Him as that He will do what we\nwish, if what we wish is in accordance with our highest good. There\nwas another man in Jericho who stopped Christ, on that same journey;\nfor not only the petition of Bartimaeus, but the curiosity--which\nwas more than curiosity--of Zacchaeus, stopped Him, and He who stood\nstill, though He had His face set like a flint to go to Jerusalem,\nbecause Bartimaeus cried, stood still and looked up into the\nsycamore tree where the publican was--the best fruit that ever it\nbore--and said, 'Zacchaeus; come down, I must abide at thy house.'\nWhy _must_ He abide? Because He discerned there a soul that He\ncould help and save, and that arrested Him on His road to the Cross.\n\nSo, dear friends, amidst all the work of administering the universe\nwhich He does, and of guiding and governing and inspiring His\nChurch, which He does, if you ask for the supply of your need He\nwould put that work aside for a moment, if necessary, to attend to\nyou. That is no exaggeration; it is only a strong way of putting the\nplain truth that Christ's love individualises each of its objects;\nand lavishes itself upon each one of us; as if there were no other\nbeings in the universe but only our two selves.\n\nAnd then, remember too, that what Bartimaeus got was not taken from\nanyone else. Nobody suffered because Jesus paused to help him. They\nsat down in ranks, five thousand of them, and as they began to eat,\nthose that were first served would be looked upon with envious eye\nby the last 'ranks,' who would be wondering if the bits of bread and\nthe two small fishes were enough to go round. But the first group\nwas fed full and the last group had as much, and they took up 'of\nthe fragments that remained, twelve baskets full.'\n\n  'Enough for all, enough for each,\n  Enough for evermore.'\n\nThere is one more thought rising out of this story. It teaches a\nwonderful lesson as to the power which Christ puts into the hand of\nbelieving prayer.\n\n'What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee?' He had asked the same\nquestion a little while before, under very different circumstances.\nWhen James and John came and tried to beguile Him into a blind\npromise, because they knew that It was not likely that they would\nget what they asked if they said it out at first. He avoided the\nsnare with that same question, To them the question was a refusal;\nthey had said: 'Master, we will that Thou wouldst do whatever we\nshould desire'; and He said: 'What is it that ye desire? Let Me know\nthat first.' But when blind Bartimaeus cried, Jesus smiled down upon\nhim--though his sightless eyeballs could not see the smile, there\nwould be a smile in the cadence of His words--and He said: 'What\nwouldst thou that I should do for thee?' To this suppliant that\nquestion was a promise--'I will do what you want.' He puts the key\nof the royal treasure-house into the hand of faith, and says, 'Go in\nand help yourself. Take what you will.'\n\nOnly, of course, we must remember that there are limitations in the\nvery nature of the case, imposed not arbitrarily, but because the\nvery nature of the truest gifts creates them, and these limitations\nto some of us sound as if they took all the blessedness out of the\nact of prayer. 'We know,' says one of the Apostles, 'that if we ask\nanything according to His will He heareth us.' Some of us think that\nthat is a very poor kind of charter, but it sets the necessary limit\nto the omnipotence of faith. 'What wouldst thou that I should do for\nthee?' Unless our answer always, and at bottom, is, 'Not my will,\nbut Thine,' we have not yet learnt the highest blessing, nor the\ntruest meaning, of prayer. For to pray does not mean to insist, to\npress our wishes on God, but it means, first, to desire that our\nwills may be brought into harmony with His. The old Rabbis hit upon\ngreat truths now and then, and one of them said, 'Make God's will\nthy will, that He may make thy will His will.' If any poor, blind\nBartimaeus remembers that, and asks accordingly, he has the key to\nthe royal treasury in his possession, and he may go in and plunge\nhis hand up to the wrist in jewels and diamonds, and carry away bars\nof gold, and it will all be his.\n\nWhen this man, who had no sight in his eyeballs, knew that whatever\nhe wanted he should have, he did not need to pause long to consider\nwhat it was that he wanted most. If you and I had that Aladdin's\nlamp given to us, and had only to rub it for a mighty spirit to come\nthat would fulfil our wishes, I wonder if we should be as sure of\nwhat we wanted. If we were as conscious of our need as the blind man\nwas of his, we should pause as little in our response to the\nquestion: 'What wouldst thou that I should do for thee?' 'Lord! Dost\nThou not see that mine eyes are dark? What else but sight can I\nwant?' Jesus still comes to us with the same question. God grant\nthat we may all say; 'Lord, how canst Thou ask us? Dost Thou not see\nthat my soul is stained, my love wandering, my eyeballs dim? Give me\nThyself!' If we thus ask, then the answer will come as quickly to us\nas it did to this blind man: 'Go thy way! Thy faith hath saved\nthee,' and that 'Go thy way' will not be dismissal from the Presence\nof our Benefactor, but our 'way' will be the same as Bartimaeus'\nwas, when he received his sight, and 'followed Jesus in the way.'\n\n\n\n\nMELTED BY KINDNESS\n\n\n    'And when Jesus came to the place, He looked up, and saw\n    him, and said unto him, Zacchaeus, make haste, and come\n    down; for to-day I must abide at thy house.'\n    --LUKE xix. 5.\n\nIt is characteristic of Luke that only he tells the story\nof Zacchaeus. He always dwells with special interest on incidents\nbringing out the character of Christ as the Friend of outcasts. His\nis eminently the Gospel of forgiveness. For example, we owe to Him\nthe three supreme parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the\nprodigal son, as well as those of the Pharisee and the publican\npraying in the Temple; and of the good Samaritan. It is he that\ntells us that all the publicans and sinners came near to Jesus to\nhear Him; and he loses no opportunity of enforcing the lesson with\nwhich this incident closes, 'The Son of Man is come to seek and to\nsave that which was lost.' It is because of the light that it throws\nupon that great thought that he tells this fascinating story of\nZacchaeus. I need not repeat it. We all remember it, and the\nquaintness and grotesqueness of part of it fix it in people's\nmemories. We know how the rich tax gatherer, pocketing his dignity,\nand unable to see over the heads of the crowd, scrambled up into the\nbranches of the sycamore tree that overhung the road; and there was\nfound by the eye of love, and surprised by the words of kindness,\nwhich melted him down, and made a new man of him on the spot. The\nstory seems to me to be full of teaching, to which I desire to turn\nyour attention at this time.\n\nI. First, note the outcast, drawn by imperfect motives to Jesus\nChrist.\n\nIt has been supposed that this man was a Gentile, but his Jewish\nname establishes his origin. And, if so, the fact that he was a\npublican and a Jew says a good deal about his character. There are\nsome trades which condemn, to a certain extent, the men who engage\nin them. You would not expect to find a man of sensitive honour\nacting as a professional spy; or one of earnest religious character\nkeeping a public-house. You would not expect to find a very good Jew\ncondescending to be the tool of the Roman Government. Zacchaeus was\nat the head of the revenue office in Jericho, a position of\nconsiderable importance, inasmuch as there was a large volume of\ntrade through that city from its situation near the fords of the\nJordan, and from the fertility of the plain in which it stood. He\nhad made some money, and probably made it by very questionable\nmeans. He was the object, not undeservedly, of the execration and\nsuspicion of his countrymen. Italians did not love Italians who took\nservice under Austria. Irishmen did not love Irishmen who in the bad\nold days used to collect church cess. And so Jews had no very kind\nfeeling towards Jews who became Caesar's servants. That a man should\nbe in such a position indicated that he cared more for money than\nfor patriotism, religion, or popular approval. His motto was the\nmotto of that Roman Emperor who said, 'Money has no smell,' out of\nwhatever cesspool it may have been fished up. But the consciousness\nof being encompassed by universal hatred would induce the object of\nit to put on an extra turn of the screw, and avenge upon individuals\nthe general hostility. So we may take it for granted that Zacchaeus,\nthe head of the Jericho custom-house, and rich to boot, was by no\nmeans a desirable character.\n\nWhat made him want to see Jesus Christ? He said to himself, curiosity;\nbut probably he was doing himself injustice, and there was something\nelse working below than merely the wish to see what sort of man was\nthis Rabbi Joshua from Galilee that everybody was talking about. Had\nhe heard that Jesus had a soft place in His heart for his class? Or\nwas he, perhaps, beginning to get tired of being the butt of universal\nhatred, and finding that money scarcely compensated for that? Or was\nthere some reaching out towards some undefined good, and a\ndissatisfaction with a very defined present, though unnamed, evil?\nProbably so. Like some of us, he put the trivial motive uppermost\nbecause he was half ashamed of the half-conscious better one.\n\nI wonder if there are any here now who said to themselves that they\nwould come out of curiosity to hear the preacher, or from some such\nordinary motive, and who all the while have, lying deep below that,\nanother reason altogether, a dim feeling that it is not all right\nbetween them and God, and that here may be the place to have it put\nright? At all events, from whatsoever imperfect motives little\nZacchaeus was perched up in the sycamore there, he went to\nsee Christ, and he got more than he went for. Unconsciously we may\nbe drawn, and imperfect motives may lead us to a perfect Saviour.\n\nHe sets us an example in another way. Do not be too punctilious\nabout dignity in pursuing aims that you know to be good. It would be\na sight to bring jeers and grins on the faces of the crowd to see\nthe rich man of the custom-house sitting up amongst the leaves. But\nhe did not mind about that if he got a good look at the Rabbi when\nHe passed. People care nothing for ridicule if their hearts are set\nupon a thing. I wish there were more of us who did not mind being\nlaughed at if only what we did helped us to see Jesus Christ. Do not\nbe afraid of ridicule. It is not a test of truth; in nine cases out\nof ten it is the grimace of fools.\n\nII. Then, further, notice the self-invited Guest.\n\nWhen the little procession stopped under the sycamore tree,\nZacchaeus would begin to feel uncomfortable. He may have had\nexperience in past times of the way in which the great doctors of\northodoxy were in the habit of treating a publican, and may have\nbegun to be afraid that this new one was going to be like all the\nrest, and elicit some kind of mob demonstration against him. The\ncrowd would be waiting with intense curiosity to see what would pass\nbetween the Rabbi and the revenue collector. They would all be very\nmuch astonished. 'Zacchaeus! make haste and come down. To-day I must\nabide at thy house.' Perhaps it was the first time since he had been\na child at his mother's knee that he had heard his name pronounced\nin tones of kindness. There was not a ragged beggar in Jericho who\nwould not have thought himself degraded by putting his foot across\nthe threshold that Jesus now says He will cross.\n\nIt is the only time in which we read that Jesus volunteered to go\ninto any house. He never offers to go where He is not wanted, any\nmore than He ever stays away where He is. And so the very fact of\nHis saying 'I will abide at thy house,' is to me an indication\nthat, deep down below Zacchaeus' superficial and vulgar curiosity,\nthere was something far more noble which our Lord fosters into life\nand consciousness by this offer.\n\nMany large truths are suggested by it on which we may touch. We have\nin Christ's words an illustration of His individualising knowledge.\n'Zacchaeus, come down.' There is no sign that anybody had told Christ\nthe name, or that He knew anything about Zacchaeus before by human\nknowledge. But the same eye that saw Nathanael under the fig-tree\nsaw Zacchaeus in the sycamore; and, seeing in secret, knew without\nbeing told the names of both. Christ does not name men in vain. He\ngenerally, when He uses an individual's name in addressing him, means\neither to assert His knowledge of his character, or His authority\nover him, or in some way or other to bespeak personal adhesion and\nto promise personal affection. So He named some of His disciples,\nweaving a bond that united each single soul to Himself by the act.\nThis individualising knowledge and drawing love and authority are all\nexpressed, as I think, in that one word 'Zacchaeus.' And these are as\ntrue about us as about him. The promises of the New Testament, the\nwords of Jesus Christ, the great, broad, universal 'whosoevers' of\nHis assurance and of His commandments are as directly meant for each\nof us as if they were in an envelope with our names upon them and put\ninto our hands. We, too, are spoken to by Him by our names, and for\nus, too, there may be a personal bond of answering love that knits us\nindividually to the Master, as there certainly is a bond of personal\nregard, compassion, affection, and purpose of salvation in His heart\nin regard of each single soul of all the masses of humanity. I should\nhave done something if I should have been able to gather into a point,\nthat blessedly pierced some heart to let the life in, the broad truths\nof the Gospel. 'Whosoever will, let him come.' Say to yourself, 'That\nis me.' 'Whosoever cometh I will in no wise cast out.' Say to yourself,\n'That is me.' And in like manner with all the general declarations,\nand especially with that chiefest of them all, 'God so loved the world\nthat He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him\nshould not perish.' Read it as you may--and you will never read it\nright until you do--'God so loved _me_'--John, Mary, or whatever\nbe your name--'Jesus so loved _me_ that if _I_ believe upon\nHim _I_ shall not perish, but have everlasting life.'\n\nThen, note, further, how here we get the revelation, in a concrete\nform, of Christ's perfect willingness and desire to make common\ncause, and dwell with the most degraded and outcast. I have said\nthat this is the only instance in which He volunteered to be a\nguest. Pharisees asked Him, and He did not refuse. The publican's\ndwelling, which was tabooed, He opened the door of by His own hand.\nAnd that is what He always does.\n\nThis little incident may be taken to be, not merely a symbol of His\nwhole dealings, but an illustration, in small, of the same principle\nwhich has its largest embodiment and illustration in the fact of His\nIncarnation and Manhood. Why did Jesus Christ take flesh and dwell\namong us? Because He desired to seek and to save that which is lost.\nWhy did He go into the publican's house, and brave the sneers of the\ncrowd, and associate Himself with the polluted? For the same reason.\nMicroscopic crystals and gigantic ones are due to the same forces\nworking in the same fashion. This incident is more than a symbol; it\nis a little instance of the operation of the law which finds its\nsupreme and transcendent instance in the fact that the Eternal Son\nof God bowed the heavens and came down 'and dwelt among us, and we\nbeheld His glory.'\n\nHis example is our pattern. A Christian church which does not\nimitate its Master in its frank and continual willingness to\nassociate itself with the degraded and the outcast has lost one of\nthe truest signs of its being vitalised with the life of Christ.\nThere is much in this day in the condition of Christian communities\nto make men dissatisfied and fearful. But there is one thing which,\nthough in all its developments one cannot sympathise with it, is in\nits essence wholly good, and that is the new and quickened\nconsciousness that a church which does not address itself to the\noutcasts has no business to live; and that Christian people who are\ntoo proud of their righteousness to go amongst the unclean and the\ndegraded are a great deal more of Pharisees than Christians, and\nhave need to learn which be the first principles of the religion\nwhich they profess. Self-righteousness gathers up its skirts in holy\nhorror; perfect righteousness goes cheerily and without fear amongst\nthe outcasts, for where should the physician go but to the sick, and\nwhere should Christ be found but in the house of the publican?\n\nFurther, the saying of our Lord suggests His recognition of the\ngreat law that ruled His life. Chronology here is of much\nimportance. We do not generally remember that the scene with\nZacchaeus was within about a week of the Crucifixion. Our Lord was\non that last journey to Jerusalem to die, during the whole of which\nthere was over His demeanour a tension of holy impatience,\naltogether unlike His usual manner, which astonished and amazed the\ndisciples as they followed Him. He set His face like a flint to go\nto Jerusalem; and strode before them on the way as if He were eager\nto reach the culmination of His sufferings and of His work. Thus\nborne on the wings of the strong desire to be perfected on the\nCross, He is arrested on His path. Nothing else was able to stop\nHim, but 'To-day I _must_ abide in thy house.' There was a soul\nto be saved; and the world's sacrifice had to wait till the single\nsoul was secured. Christ hurrying, if I may use the word, at all\nevents steadfastly and without wavering, pressing towards the Cross,\nlet His course be stopped by this need. The highest 'must' was\nobedience to the Father's will, and parallel with that need there\nwas the other, of rescuing the Father's prodigal sons. So this elder\nBrother owned the obligation, and paused on the road to Calvary, to\nlodge in the house of Zacchaeus. Let us learn the sweet lesson,\nand take the large consolations that lie in such a thought.\n\nAgain, the utterance of this self-invited Guest suggests His\nover-abundant fulfilment of timid, half-conscious desires. I said at\nthe beginning of my remarks that only curiosity was on the surface;\nbut that the very fact that our Lord addressed Himself to the man\nseemed to imply that He descried in him something more than mere vulgar\ncuriosity. And the glad leap with which Zacchaeus came down from his\ntree might have revealed to Zacchaeus himself, as no doubt it did to\nsome of the bystanders, what it was that he had been dimly wishing.\nSo with us all there are needs, longings, half-emerging wishes, that\nhave scarcely come into the field of consciousness, but yet have\npower enough to modify our actions. Jesus Christ understands all\nabout us, and reads us better than we do ourselves; and is ready to\nmeet, and by meeting to bring into full relief, these vague feelings\nafter an undefined good. Brethren, He is to us, if we will let Him\nbe, all that we want; and He is to us all that we need, although we\nonly half know that we need it, and never say to ourselves that we\nwish it.\n\nThere is a last thought deducible from these words of our Lord's;\nand that is, His leaving a man to decide whether he will have Him or\nno. 'Make haste and come down, for to-day I _must_ abide at thy\nhouse. Yes! but if Zacchaeus had stuck in his tree, Christ's 'must'\nwould not have been fulfilled. He would have gone on to Jerusalem if\nthe publican had not scrambled down in haste. He forces Himself on\nno man; He withholds Himself from no man. He respects that awful\nprerogative of being the architects of our own evil and our own\ngood, by our own free and unconstrained choice.\n\nDid you ever think that it was now or never with this publican; that\nJesus Christ was never to go through the streets of Jericho any\nmore; that it was Zacchaeus' last chance; and that, if he had not\nmade haste, he would have lost Christ for ever? And so it is yet.\nThere may be some in this place at this moment to whom Jesus Christ\nis now making His last appeal. I know not; no man knows. A Rabbi\nsaid, when they asked him when a man should repent, 'Repent on the\nlast day of your lives.' And they said, 'But we do not know when\nthat will be.' And he said, 'Then repent _now_.' So I say,\nbecause some of you may never hear Christ's Gospel again, and\nbecause none of us know whether we shall or not; make sure work of\nit _now_, and do not let Jesus Christ go out of the city and\nup the road between the hills yonder; for if once the folds of the\nravine shut Him from sight He will never be back in Jericho, or seen\nby Zacchaeus any more for ever.\n\nIII. And so, lastly, notice the outcast melted by kindness.\n\nWe do not know at what stage in our Lord's intercourse with the\npublican he 'stood and said, Half of my goods I give to the poor,'\nand so on. But whensoever it was, it was the sign of the entire\nrevolution that had been wrought upon him by the touch of that\nloving hand, and by the new fountain of sympathy and love\nthat he had found in Jesus Christ.\n\nSome people have supposed, indeed, that his words do not mark a vow\nfor the future, but express his practice in the past. But it seems\nto me to be altogether incongruous that Zacchaeus should advertise\nhis past good in order to make himself out to be not quite so bad as\npeople thought him, and, therefore, not so unworthy of being\nChrist's host. Christ's love kindles sense of our sin, not\ncomplacent recounting of our goodness. So Zacchaeus said, 'Lord!\nThou hast loved me, and I wonder. I yield, and fling away my black\npast; and, so far as I can, make restitution for it.'\n\nThe one transforming agency is the love of Christ received into the\nheart. I do not suppose that Zacchaeus knew as much about Jesus\nChrist even after the conversation as we do; nor did he see His love\nin that supreme death on the Cross as we do. But the love of the\nLord made a deep dint in his heart, and revolutionised his whole\nnature. The thing that will alter the whole current and set of a\nman's affections, that will upset his estimate of the relative value\nof material and spiritual, and that will turn him inside out and\nupside down, and make a new man of him, is the revelation of the\nsupreme love that in Jesus Christ has come into the world, with an\nindividualising regard to each of us, and has died on the Cross for\nthe salvation of us all. Nothing else will do it. People had frowned\non Zacchaeus, and it made him bitter. They had execrated and\npersecuted him; and his only response was setting his teeth more\nfirmly and turning the screw a little tighter when he had the\nchance. You can drive a man into devilry by contempt. If you want to\nmelt him into goodness, try love. The Ethiopian cannot change his\nskin, but Jesus Christ can change his heart, and that will change\nhis skin by degrees. The one transforming power is faith in the love\nof Jesus Christ.\n\nFurther, the one test of a true reception of Him is the abandonment\nof past evil and restitution for it as far as possible. People say\nthat our Gospel is unreal and sentimental, and a number of other\nugly adjectives. Well! If it ever is so, it is the fault of the\nspeakers, and not of the Gospel. For its demands from every man that\naccepts it are intensely practical, and nothing short of a complete\nturning of his back upon his old self, shown in the conclusive\nforsaking of former evil, however profitable or pleasant, and\nreparation for harm done to men, satisfies them.\n\nIt is useless to talk about loving Jesus Christ and trusting Him,\nand having the sweet assurance of forgiveness, and a glorious hope\nof heaven, unless these have made you break off your bad habits of\nwhatsoever sort they may be, and cast them behind your backs. Strong\nemotion, sweet deep feeling, assured confidence in the sense of\nforgiveness and the hope of heaven, are all very well. Let us see\nyour faith by your works; and of these works the chief is--Behold\nthe evil that I did, I do it no more: 'Behold! Lord! the half of my\ngoods I give to the poor.' There was a young ruler, a chapter before\nthis, who could not make up his mind to part with wealth in order to\nfollow Christ. This man has so completely made up his mind to follow\nChrist that he does not need to be bidden to give up his worldly\ngoods. The half given to the poor, and fourfold restoration to those\nwhom he had wronged, would not leave much. How astonished Zacchaeus\nwould have been if anybody had said to him that morning, 'Zacchaeus!\nbefore this night falls you will be next door to a pauper, and you\nwill be a happier man than you are now!'\n\nSo, dear friends, like him, all of us may, if we will, and if we\nneed, make a sudden right-about-face that shall alter the complexion\nof our whole future. People tell us that sudden conversions are\nsuspicious. So they may be in certain cases. But the moment when a\nman makes up his mind to change the direction in which his face is\nset will always be a moment, however long may be the hesitation, and\nthe meditation, and the preparation that led up to it.\n\nJesus Christ is standing before each of us as truly as He did before\nthat publican, and is saying to us as truly as He said to him, 'Let\nMe in.' 'Behold! I stand at the door and knock. If any man open ...\nI will enter.' If He comes in He will teach you what needs to be\nturned out if He is to stop; and will make the sacrifice blessed and\nnot painful; and you will be a happier and a richer man with Christ\nand nothing than with all beside and no Christ.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRADING SERVANTS\n\n\n    'Then came the first, saying, Lord, thy pound hath\n    gained ten pounds.... And the second came, saying,\n    Lord, thy pound hath gained five pounds.'\n    --LUKE xix.16, 18.\n\nThe Evangelist, contrary to his usual practice, tells us what was\nthe occasion of this parable. It was spoken at Jericho, on our\nLord's last journey to Jerusalem, Bethany was but a day's march\ndistant; Calvary but a week ahead. An unusual tension of spirit\nmarked our Lord's demeanour, and was noticed by the disciples with\nawe. It infected them, and the excitable crowd, which was more than\nusually excitable because on its way to the passover festival. The\nair was electric, and everybody felt that something was impending.\nThey 'thought that the kingdom of God should _immediately_\nappear.' So Christ spoke this parable to damp down that expectation\nwhich might easily flash up into the flame of rebellion. He tells\nthem His real programme. He was to go a long way off to receive\nthe kingdom. That was a familiar experience amongst the nations\ntributary to Rome, and more than one of the Herodian family had\npassed through it. In the meantime there was to be a period of\nexpectancy. It was to be a long time, for he had to go to a 'far\ncountry,' and it was to be extended enough for the servants to turn\ntheir money over many times during His absence. When He did return\nit was not to do what they expected. They thought that the kingdom\nmeant Jewish lordship over subject nations. He teaches them that it\nmeant the destruction of the rebellious citizens, and a rigid\nscrutiny of the servants' faithfulness.\n\nNow, the words of my two texts bring out in connection with this\noutline of the future some large lessons which I desire to draw.\n\nI. Notice the small capital that the servants receive to trade with.\n\nIt was a pound apiece, which, numismatic authorities tell us, is\nsomewhat about the same value as some \u00a36 odd of English money;\nthough, of course, the purchasing power would be considerably\ngreater. A small amount, and an equal amount to every servant--these\nare the two salient points of this parable. They make the broad\ndistinction between it and the other parable, which is often mixed\nup with it, the parable of the talents. There, instead of the amount\nbeing excessively small, it is exceedingly great; for a talent was\nworth some \u00a3400, and ten talents would be \u00a34000, a fair capital for\na man to start with. The other point of difference between the two\nparables, which belongs to the essence of each, is that while the\ngift in the one case is identical, in the other case it is graduated\nand different.\n\nNow, to suppose that these are but two varying versions of the same\nparable, which the Evangelists have manipulated is, in my judgment,\nto be blind to the plainest of the lessons to be drawn from them.\n\nThere are two sorts of gifts. In one, all Christian men, the\nMaster's servants, are alike; in another, they differ. Now, what is\nthe thing in which all Christians are alike? What gift do they all\npossess equally; rich and poor, largely endowed or slenderly\nequipped; 'talented'--as we use the word from the parable--or not?\nThe rich man and the poor, the wise man and the foolish, the\ncultured man and the ignorant, the Fijian and the Englishman, have\none thing alike--the message of salvation which we call the Gospel\nof the blessed Lord. That is the 'pound.' We all stand upon an equal\nplatform there, however differently we are endowed in respect of\ncapacities and other matters. All have it; and all have the same.\n\nNow if that is the interpretation of this parable, there are\nconsiderations that flow from that thought, and on which I would\ndwell for a moment.\n\nThe first of them is the apparent smallness of the gift. You may\nfeel a difficulty in accepting that explanation, and may have been\nsaying to yourselves that it cannot be correct, because Jesus Christ\nwould never compare the unspeakable gift of His message of salvation\nthrough Him, to that paltry sum. But throw yourselves back to the\nmoment of utterance, and I think you will feel the pathos and power\nof the metaphor. Here was that handful of disciples set in the midst\nof a hostile world, dead against them, with its banded superstitions,\nvenerable idolatries, systematised philosophies, the force of the\nmightiest instruments of material power that the world had ever seen,\nin the organisation and military power of Rome. And there stood twelve\nGalilean men, with their simple, unlettered message; one poor 'pound,'\nand that was all. 'The foolishness of preaching,' the message which to\n'the Jews was a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks was folly,' was all\nthat they were equipped with. Their Master, who left them to seek a\nKingdom, had so little to bestow, before He received His crown, that\nall that He could spare them was that small sum. They had to go into\nbusiness in a very poor way. They had to be content to do a very\ninsignificant retail trade. 'The foolishness of God is wiser than men;\nand the weakness of God is stronger than men.' The old experience of\nthe leather sling and the five stones out of the brook, in the hand of\nthe stripling, that made short work of the brazen armour of the giant,\nand penetrated with a whizz into his thick skull, and laid him\nprostrate, was to be repeated. 'He called his servants, and gave\nthem'--a pound apiece! If you and I, Christian men and women, were\ntrue to the Master's legacy, and believed that we have in it more\nwealth than the treasures of wisdom and knowledge or force which the\nworld has laid up, we should find that our mite was more than they all\nhave in their possession.\n\nFurther, the texts suggest the purpose for which the pound is given.\nThe servants had to live on it themselves, no doubt. So have we.\nThey had to trade with it. So have we. Now that means two things.\nWe get the Gospel, not as some of us lazily suppose, in order to\nsecure that we shall not be punished for our past sins whilst we\nlive, and go to heaven when we die. We get it, not only to enjoy its\nconsolations and its sweetness, but to do business with.\n\nAnd there are two ways in which this trading is to be done by us.\nThe main one is the honest application of the principles and powers\nof the Gospel to the moulding of our own characters, and the making\nus better, purer, gentler, more heavenly-minded, and more\nChristlike. That is the first trading that we have to carry on with\nthe Word. We get it not for an indolent assent, as so many of us\nmisuse it. We receive it not merely to say, 'Oh I believe it,' and\nthere an end, but that we may bring it to bear upon all our conduct,\nand that it may be the chief formative influence in our characters.\nChristian people! is that what you do with your Christianity? Is the\nGospel moulding you, hour by hour, moment by moment? Have you\nbrought all its great truths to bear upon your daily lives? Have\nyou inwrought its substance into, not merely your understandings\nor your emotions, but your daily conduct? Is it indeed the life of\nyour lives, and the leaven that is leavening your whole character?\nYou have it to trade with; see that you do not wrap it in a napkin,\nand stow it idly away in some corner.\n\nThen there is the other way of trading and that is, telling it to\nothers. That is an obligation incumbent on all Christians. There may\nbe differences in regard to other gifts, which determine the manner\nin which each shall use the equal gift which we all possess alike.\nBut these are of subordinate importance. The main thing is to feel\nthat the possession of Christian faith, which is our way of\nreceiving the pound, carries with it indissolubly the obligation of\nChristian evangelism. However it may be discharged, discharged it is\nto be, by every true servant. I am sometimes half disposed to think\nthat it would have been better for the Church if there had never\nbeen any men in my position, on whom the mass of unspiritual, idle\nbecause busy, and silent because little-loving, Christian professors\ncontentedly roll the whole obligation to preach God's Gospel. My\nbrethren, the world is not going to be evangelised by officials.\nUntil all Christian people wake up to the sense that they have the\n'pound' to trade with, there will be nothing adequate done to bring\nthe world to the obedience and the love of Jesus Christ. You say you\nhave the Gospel; if you have it what are you doing with it?\n\nSelf-centred Christianity, if such a thing were possible, is a\nmistake. It is generally a sham; it is always a crime. A man that\nputs away his pound, and never goes out and says, 'Come, share with\nme in the wealth that I have found in Jesus Christ' will be like a\nmiser that puts his hoardings into an old stocking, and hides it in\nthe ground somewhere. When he goes to dig it up, he is only too\nlikely to find that all the coins have slipped out. If you want to\nkeep your Christianity, let the air into it. If you want it to\nincrease, sow it. There are hosts of you who would be far happier\nChristian people, if you came out of your shells and traded with\nyour pound.\n\nII. Observe the varying profits of the trading.\n\nThe one man says, 'Thy pound hath gained ten pounds.' The other\nsays, 'Thy pound hath gained five pounds.' And the others who are\nnot mentioned, no doubt, had also varying results to present. Now\nthat inequality of profits from an equal capital to start with, is\nbut a picturesque way of saying what is, alas! too obviously true,\nthat Christian people do not all stand on the same level in regard\nto the use they have made of, and the benefits they have derived\nfrom, the one equal gift which was bestowed upon them. It is\nthe same to every one at the beginning, but differences develop as\nthey go on. One man makes twice as much out of it as another does.\n\nNow, let us distinctly understand what sort of differences these are\nwhich our Lord signalises here. Let me clear away a mistake which\nmay interfere with the true lessons of this parable, that the\ndifferences in question are the superficial ones in apparent results\nwhich follow from difference of endowments, or from difference of\ninfluential position. That is the kind of meaning that is often\nattached to the 'ten pounds' or the 'five pounds' in the text. We\nthink that the ten pounder is the man who has been able to do some\nlarge spiritual work for Jesus Christ, that fills the world with its\ngreatness, the man who has been set in some most conspicuous place,\nand by reason of intellectual ability or other talent has been able\nto gather in many souls into the kingdom; but that is not Christ's\nway of estimating. We should be going dead in the teeth of\neverything that He teaches if we thought that such as these were the\ndifferences intended. No, no! Every man that co-operates in a great\nwork with equal diligence and devotion has an equal place in his\neyes. The soldier that clapped Luther on the back as he was going\ninto the Diet of Worms, and said, 'You have a bigger fight to fight\nthan we ever had; cheer up, little monk!' stands on the same level\nas the great reformer, if what he did was done from the game motive\nand with as full consecration of himself. The old law of Israel\nstates the true principle of Christian recompense: they that 'abide\nby the stuff' have the same share in the spoil as they 'that go down\ninto the battle.' All servants who have exercised equal faithfulness\nand equal diligence stand on the same level and have the same\nsuccess; no matter how different may be their estimation in the eyes\nof men; no matter how different may be the conspicuousness of the\nplaces that they fill in the eyes of the world whilst they live, or\nin the records of the Church when they are dead. Equal diligence\nwill issue in equal results in the development of character, and the\nonly reason for the diversity of results is the diversity of\nfaithfulness and of zeal in trading with the pound.\n\nNotice, too, before I go further, how all who trade make profits.\nThere are no bad debts in that business. There are no investments\nthat result in a loss. Everybody that goes into it makes something\nby it; which is just to say that any man who is honest and earnest\nin the attempt to utilise the powers of Christ's Gospel for his own\nculture, or for the world's good, will succeed in reality, however\nhe may seem to fail in appearance. There are no commercial failures\nin this trading. The man with his ten pounds of profit made them\nbecause he worked hardest. The man that made the five made all that\nhis work entitled him to. There was no one who came and said, 'Lord!\nI put thy pound into my little shop, and I did my best with it, and\nit is all gone!' Every Christian effort is crowned with success.\n\nIII. Lastly, we have here the final declaration of profits.\n\nThe master has come back. He is a king now, but he is the master\nstill, and he wants to know what has become of the money that was\nleft in the servants' hands. Now, that is but a metaphorical way of\nbringing to our minds that which we cannot conceive of without\nmetaphor--viz., the retribution that lies beyond the grave for us\nall. Although we cannot conceive it without metaphor, we may reach,\nthrough the metaphor to some apprehension, at any rate, of the facts\nthat lie behind it. There are two points in reference to this final\ndeclaration of profits suggested here.\n\nThe first is this, that all the profit is ascribed to the capital.\nNeither of the two men say: 'I, with thy pound, have gained,' but\n'Thy pound hath gained.' That is accurately true. For if I accept,\nand live by, any great moral truth or principle, it is the principle\nor the truth that is the real productive cause of the change in my\nlife and character. I, by my acceptance of it, simply put the belt\non the drum that connects my loom with the engine, but it is the\nengine that drives the looms and the shuttle, and brings out the web\nat last. And so, Christian people who, with God's grace in their\nhearts, have utilised the 'pound,' and thereby made themselves\nChristlike, have to say, 'It was not I, but Christ in me. It was the\nGospel, and not my faith in the Gospel, that wrought this change.'\nIs it your teeth or your dinner that nourishes you? Is it the Gospel\nor your trust in the Gospel that is the true cause of your\nsanctifying?\n\nWith regard to the other aspect of this trading, the same thing is\ntrue. Is it my word or Christ's Word ministered by me that helps any\nof my hearers who are helped? Surely! surely! there is no question\nabout that. It is the 'pound' that gains the 'pounds.' 'Paul\nplanted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase. So, then,\nneither is he that planteth anything nor he that watereth, but God\nthat giveth the increase.'\n\nThe other consideration suggested by these words is the exact\nknowledge of the precise results of a life, which is possessed at\nlast. Each servant knew precisely what was the net outcome of his\nwhole activity. That is exactly what we do not know here, and never\nshall, and never can know. But yonder all illusions will have\nvanished; and there will be two sorts of disillusionising then. Men,\nfor instance, of my profession, whose names are familiar, and who\nhold high places in the esteem of the Church, and may be tempted to\nsuppose that they have done a great deal--I am afraid that many of\nus will find, when we get yonder, that we have not done nearly so\nmuch as our admirers in this world, and we ourselves, were sometimes\ntempted to think that we had done. The searching light that comes in\nwill show a great many seamy places in the cloth that looks very\nsound when it is inspected in the twilight. And there will be\nanother kind of disillusionising. Many a man has said, 'Lord! I have\nlaboured in vain, and spent my strength for nought,' who will find\nout that he was mistaken, and that where he saw failure there were\nsolid results; that where he thought the grain had perished in the\nfurrows, it had sprung up and borne fruit unto life everlasting.\n'Lord! when saw we Thee in prison, and visited Thee?' We never knew\nthat we had done anything of the sort. 'Behold! I was left alone,'\nsaid the widowed Jerusalem when she was restored to her husband,\n'these'--children that have gathered round me--'where had they\nbeen?' We shall know, for good or bad, exactly the results of our\nlives.\n\nWe shall have to tell them. The slothful servant, too, was under\nthis compulsion of absolute honesty. If he had not been so, do you\nthink he would have ventured to stand up before his master, a king\nnow, and insult him to his face? But he had to turn himself inside\nout, and tell then what he had thought in his inmost heart. So\n'every one of us shall give an account of himself to God'; and like\na man in the bankruptcy court, we shall have to explain our books,\nand go into all our transactions. We are working in the dark today.\nOur work will be seen as it is, in the light. The coral reef rises\nin the ocean, and the creatures that made it do not see it. The\nocean will be drained away, and the reef will stand up sheer and\ndistinct.\n\nMy brother! 'I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire'--and\nwhen you have bought your pound, see that you use it; for 'it is\nrequired in stewards that a man be found faithful.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE REWARDS OF THE TRADING SERVANTS\n\n\n    'Because thou hast been faithful in a very little,\n    have thou authority over ten cities... Be thou also\n    over five cities.'--LUKE xix. 17, 19.\n\nThe relation between this parable of the pounds and the other of the\ntalents has often been misunderstood, and is very noteworthy. They\nare not two editions of one parable variously manipulated by the\nEvangelists, but they are two parables presenting two kindred and\nyet diverse aspects of one truth. They are neither identical, as\nsome have supposed, nor contradictory, as others have imagined; but\nthey are complementary. The parable of the talents represents the\nservants as receiving different endowments; one gets five; another\ntwo; another one. They make the same rate of profit with their\ndifferent endowments. The man that turned his two talents into four\ndid just as well as he that turned his five into ten. In either case\nthe capital is doubled. Since the diligence is the same, the rewards\nare the same, and to each is given the identical same eulogium and\nthe same entrance into the joy of his Lord. So the lesson of that\nparable is that, however unequal are our endowments, there may be as\nmuch diligence shown in the use of the smallest as in the greatest,\nand where that is the case, the man with the small endowments will\nstand on the same level of recompense as the man with the large.\n\nBut that is not all. This parable comes in to complete the thoughts.\nHere all the servants get the same gift, the one pound, but they\nmake different profits out of it, one securing twice as much as the\nother. And, inasmuch as the diligence has been different, the\nrewards are different. So the lesson of this parable is that unequal\nfaithfulness in the use of the same opportunities results in unequal\nretribution and reward. Unequal faithfulness, I say, because, of\ncourse, in both parables it is presupposed that the factor in\nproducing the profit is not any accidental circumstance, but the\nearnestness and faithfulness of the servant. Christ does not pay for\nresults; He pays for motives. And it is not because the man has made\na certain number of pounds, but because in making them he has shown\na certain amount of faithfulness, that he is rewarded. Christ does\nnot say, 'Well done! good and _successful_ servant,' but 'Well\ndone! good and _faithful_ servant.'\n\nSo, keeping these two sides of the one truth in view, I desire now\nto draw out two or three of the lessons which seem to me to lie in\nthe principle laid down in my texts, of the unequal results of the\nunequal diligence of these servants.\n\nI. I would note the solemn view of this present life that underlies\nthe whole.\n\n'Thou hast been faithful in a very little; have thou authority over\nfive cities.' Well, that rests upon the thought that all our present\nlife here is a stewardship, which in its nature is preparatory to\nlarger work yonder. And that is the point of view from which alone\nit is right to look at, and possible to understand, this else\nunintelligible and bewildering life on earth. Clearly enough, to\nanybody that has eyes in his head, moral ends are supreme in man's\nrelation to nature, and in man's life. We are here for the sake of\nmaking character, and of acquiring aptitudes and capacities which\nshall be exercised hereafter. The whole of our earthly career is the\nexercise of stewardship in regard to all the gifts with which we\nhave been entrusted, in order that by the right exercise of that\nstewardship we may develop ourselves and acquire powers.\n\nNow if it is clear that the whole meaning and end of the present\nlife are to make character, and that we have to do with the material\nand the transient only, in order that, like the creatures that build\nup the coral reefs, we may draw from the ever-varying waves of the\nocean that welters around us solid substance which we can pile up\ninto an enduring monument--is this process of making character, and\ndeveloping ourselves, to be cut short by such a contemptible thing\nas the death of the body? One very distinguished evolutionist, who\nhas been forced onwards from his position to a kind of theism,\ndeclares that he is driven to a belief in immortality because he\nmust believe in the reasonableness of God's work. And it seems to me\nthat if indeed--as is plainly the case--moral ends are supreme in\nour life's history, it brings utter intellectual bewilderment and\nconfusion to suppose that these ends are kept in view up till the\nmoment of death, and that then down comes the guillotine and cuts\noff all. God does not take the rough ore out of the mine, and deal\nwith it, and change it to polished steel, and shape His weapons, and\nthen take them when they are at their highest temper and their\nsharpest edge, and break them across His knee. No! if here we are\nshaped, it is because yonder there is work for the tool.\n\nSo all here is apprenticeship, and the issues of to-day are recorded\nin eternity. We are like men perched up in a signal-box by the side\nof the line; we pull over a lever here, and it lifts an arm half a\nmile off. The smallest wheel upon one end of a shaft may cause\nanother ten times its diameter to revolve, at the other end of the\nshaft through the wall there. Here we prepare, yonder we achieve.\n\nII. Note the consequent littleness and greatness of this present.\n\n'Thou hast been faithful in a very little.' Some of you may remember\na recent sermon on the previous part of this parable, in which I\ntried to bring out an explanation of the small sum with which these\nservants were entrusted--the pound apiece for their little retail\nbusinesses--and found reason to believe that the interpretation of\nthat gift was the Gospel of Jesus Christ which, in comparison with\nthe world's wisdom and philosophies and material forces, seemed such\na very insignificant thing. If we keep that interpretation in view\nin treating my present text, then there is hinted to us the contrast\nbetween the necessary limitations and incompletenesses even of the\nrevelation of God in Jesus Christ which we have here, and the flood\nof glory and of light, which shall pour upon our eyes when the veil\nof flesh and sense has dropped away. Here we know in part; here,\neven with the intervention of the Eternal and Incarnate Word of God,\nthe Revealer of the Father, we see as in a glass darkly; there face\nto face. The magnificences and the harmonies of that great\nrevelation of God in Jesus Christ, which transcends all human\nthought and all worldly wisdom, are but a point, in comparison with\nthe continent of illumination which shall come to us hereafter. 'The\nmoon that rules the night' is the revelation that we have to-day,\nthe reflection and echo of the sun that will rule the unsetting day\nof the heavens.\n\nBut I pass from that aspect of the words before us to the other,\nwhich, I suppose, is rather to be kept in view, in which the\nfaithfulness in a very little points to the smallness of this\npresent, as measured against that infinite future to which it\nconducts. Much has been said upon that subject, which is very\nantagonistic to the real ideas of Christianity. Life here, and this\npresent, have been depreciated unduly, untruly, and unthankfully.\nAnd harm has been done, not only to the men who accept that\nestimate, but to the world that scoffs at it. There is nothing in\nthe Bible, which is at all in sympathy with the so-called religious\ndepreciation of the present, but there is this--'the things that are\nseen are temporal; the things that are unseen are eternal.' The\nlower hills look high when beheld from the flat plain that stretches\non this side of them; but, if the mist lifts, the great white peaks\ncome out beyond them, glittering in the sunshine, and with the\nuntrodden snows on their inaccessible pinnacles; and nobody thinks\nabout the green foothills, with the flowers upon them, any more.\nBrethren, think away the mist, for you can, and open your eyes, and\nsee the snow-clad hills of eternity, and then you will understand\nhow low is the elevation of the heights in the foreground. The\ngreatness of the future makes the present little, but the little\npresent is great, because its littleness is the parent of the great\nfuture. 'The child is father of the man'; and earth's narrow range\nwidens out into the infinitude of eternity and of heaven. The only\nthing that gives real greatness and sublimity to our mortal life is\nits being the vestibule to another. Historically you will find that,\nwherever faith in a future life has become dim, as it has become dim\nin large sections of the educated classes to-day, there the general\ntone of strenuous endeavour has dropped, and the fatal feeling of\n'It is not worth while' begins to creep over society. 'Is life worth\nliving?' is the question that is asked on all sides of us to-day.\nAnd the modern recrudescence of pessimism has along with it, as one\nof the main thoughts which cut the nerves of effort, doubt of, and\ndisbelief in, a future. It is because the very little opens out into\nthe immeasurably great, and the passing moments tick us onwards into\nan unpassing eternity, that the moments are worth living through,\nand the fleeting insignificances of earth's existence become solemn\nand majestic as the portals of heaven.\n\nIII. Notice the future form of activity prepared for by faithful\ntrading.\n\n'Thou hast been faithful in a very little; have thou authority over\nten cities.' Now I do not need to spend a word in dwelling on the\ncontrast between the two pictures of the huckster with his little\nshop and the pound of capital to begin with, and the vizier that has\ncontrol of ten of the cities of his master. That is too plain to\nneed any enforcement. We are all here, all us Christian people\nespecially, like men that keep a small shop, in a back street, with\na few trivial things in the window, but we are heirs of a kingdom.\nThat is what Christ wants us to lay to heart, so that the little\nshop shall not seem so very small, and its smoky obscurity shall be\nirradiated by true visions of what it will lead to.\n\nNor do I wish to risk any kind of fanciful and precarious\nspeculations as to the manner and the sphere of the authority that\nis here set forth; only I would keep to one or two plain things.\nFaithfulness here prepares for participation in Christ's authority\nhereafter. For we are not to forget that whilst the master, the\nnobleman, was away seeking the kingdom, all that he could give his\nservants was the little stock-in-trade with which he started them,\nand that it is because he has won his kingdom that he is able to\ndispense to them the larger gifts of dominion over the ten and the\nfive cities. The authority is delegated, but it is more than that--\nit is shared. For it is participation in, and not merely delegation\nfrom, the King and His rule, that is set forth in this and in other\nplaces of Scripture, for 'they shall sit down with Me on My throne,\neven as I also overcame and am set down with My Father on His\nthrone.'\n\nIf, then, the rule set forth, in whatever sphere and in whatever\nfashion it may be exercised, is participation in Christ's authority,\nlet us not forget that therefore it is a rule of which the manifestation\nis service. In heaven as on earth, and for the Lord in heaven as for the\nLord on earth, and for the servants in heaven as for the servants on\nearth, the law stands irrefragable and eternal--'If any man will be\nchief among you, let him be your minister.' The authority over the ten\ncities is the capacity and opportunity of serving and helping every\ncitizen in them all. What that help may be let us leave. It is better\nto be ignorant than to speculate about matters where there is no\npossibility of certainty. Ignorance is more impressive than knowledge,\nonly be sure that no dignity can live amidst the pure light of the\nheavens, except after the fashion of the dignity of the Lord of all,\nwho there, as here, is the servant of all.\n\nBut there is a thought in connection with this great though dim\nrevelation of the future, which may well be laid to heart by us. And\nthat is, that however close and direct the dependence on, and the\ncommunion with, Jesus Christ, the King of all His servants, in that\nfuture state is, it shall not be so close and direct as to exclude\nroom for the exercise of brotherly sympathy and brotherly aid. We\nshall have Christ for our life and our light and our glory. But\nthere, as here, we shall help one another to have Him more fully,\nand to understand Him more perfectly. What further lies in these\ngreat words, I do not venture to guess. Enough to know that Christ\nwill be all in all, and that Christ in each will help the others to\nknow Christ more fully.\n\nOnly remember, we have to take this great conception of the future\nas being one that implies largely increased and ennobled activity. A\ngreat deal of very cheap ridicule has been cast upon the Christian\nconception of the future life as if it was an eternity of idleness\nand of repose. Of repose, yes; of idleness, no! For it is no\nsinecure to be the governor of ten cities. There will be a good deal\nof work to be done, in order to discharge that office properly. Only\nit will be work that does not disturb repose, and at one and the\nsame moment His servants will serve in constant activity, and gaze\nupon His face in calm contemplation. Christ's session at the right\nhand of God does not interfere with Christ's continual activity\nhere. And, in like manner, His servants shall rest from their\nlabours, but not from their work; they shall serve Him undisturbed,\nand shall repose, but not idly.\n\nIV. Lastly, our texts remind us of the variety in recompense which\ncorresponds to diversity in faithfulness.\n\nI need but say a word about that. The one man gets his ten cities\nbecause his faithfulness has brought in ten pounds. The other gets\nfive, corresponding to his faithfulness. As I said, our Lord pays,\nnot for results, except in so far as these are conditioned and\nsecured by the diligence of His servants. And so we come to the old\nfamiliar, and yet too often forgotten, conception of degrees in\ndignity, degrees in nearness to Him. That thought runs all through\nthe New Testament representations of a future life, sometimes more\nclearly, sometimes more obscurely, but generally present. It is in\nentire accordance with the whole conception of that future, because\nthe Christian notion of it is not that it is an arbitrary reward,\nbut that it is the natural outcome of the present; and, of course,\ntherefore, varying according to the present, of which it is the\noutcome. We get what we have wrought for. We get what we are capable\nof receiving, and what we are capable of receiving depends upon what\nhas been our faithfulness here.\n\nNow, that is perfectly consistent with the other side of the truth\nwhich the twin parable sets forth--viz., that the recompenses of the\nfuture are essentially one. All the servants, who were entrusted\nwith the Talents, received the same eulogium, and entered into the\nsame joy of their Lord. That is one side of the truth. And the other\nis, that the degree in which Christian people, when they depart\nhence, possess the one gift of eternal life, and Christ-shared joy\nis conditioned by their faithfulness and diligence here. Do not let\nthe Gospel that says 'The gift of God is eternal life' make you\nforget the completing truths, that the measure in which a man\npossesses that eternal life depends on his fitness for it, and that\nfitness depends on his faithfulness of service and his union with\nhis Lord.\n\nWe obscure this great truth often by reason of the way in which we\npreach the deeper truth on which it rests--forgiveness and\nacceptance all unmerited, through faith in Jesus Christ. But the two\nthings are not contradictory; they are complementary. No man\nwill be faithful as a steward who is not full of faith as a penitent\nsinner. No man will enter into the joy of his Lord, who does not\nenter in through the gate of penitence and trust, but, having\nentered, we are ranked according to the faithfulness of our service\nand diligence of stewardship. 'Wherefore, giving all diligence, make\nyour calling and election sure, for so an entrance shall be\nministered unto you _abundantly_ into the everlasting kingdom\nof our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.'\n\n\n\n\nA NEW KIND OF KING\n\n\n    'And when He was come nigh, even now at the descent of\n    the mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the\n    disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud\n    voice for all the mighty works that they had seen;\n    38. Saying, Blessed be the King that cometh in the\n    name of the Lord: peace in heaven, and glory in the\n    highest. 38. And some of the Pharisees from among the\n    multitude said unto Him, Master, rebuke Thy disciples.\n    40. And He answered and said unto them, I tell you\n    that, if these should hold their peace, the stones\n    would immediately cry out. 41. And when He was come\n    near, He beheld the city, and wept over it, 42. Saying,\n    If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy\n    day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now\n    they are hid from thine eyes. 43. For the days shall\n    come upon thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench\n    about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in\n    on every side, 44. And shall lay thee even with the\n    ground, and thy children within thee; and they shall\n    not leave in thee one stone upon another; because thou\n    knewest not the time of thy visitation. 45. And he\n    went into the temple, and began to cast out them that\n    sold therein, and them that bought; 46. Saying unto\n    them, It is written, My house is the house of prayer:\n    but ye have made it a den of thieves. 47. And He\n    taught daily in the temple. But the chief priests and\n    the scribes and the chief of the people sought to\n    destroy Him, 48. And could not find what they might\n    do: for all the people were very attentive to hear\n    Him.'--LUKE xix. 37-48.\n\n'He went on before.' What concentrated determination, and almost\neagerness, impelled His firm and swift steps up the steep, weary\nroad! Mark tells that the disciples followed, 'amazed'--as they well\nmight be--at the unusual haste, and strange preoccupation on the\nface, set as a flint.\n\nLuke takes no notice of the stay at Bethany and the sweet seclusion\nwhich soothed Jesus there. He dwells only on the assertion of\nroyalty, which stamped an altogether unique character on the\nremaining hours of Christ's life.\n\nI. The narrative brings into prominence Christ's part in originating\nthe triumphal entry (vs. 30-34). He sent for the colt with the\nobvious intention of stimulating the people to just such a\ndemonstration as followed.\n\nAs to the particulars, we need only note that the most obvious\nexplanation of His knowledge of the circumstances that the\nmessengers would encounter, is that it was supernatural. Only one\nother explanation is possible; namely, that the owners of the animal\nwere secret disciples, with whom our Lord had arranged to send for\nit, and had settled a sign and countersign, by which they would know\nHis messengers. But that is a less natural explanation.\n\nNote the remarkable blending of dignity and poverty in 'The Lord\nhath need of him.' It asserts sovereign authority and absolute\nrights, and it confesses need and penury. He is a King, but He has\nto borrow even a colt to make His triumphal entry on. Though He was\nrich, for our sakes He became poor.\n\nJesus then deliberately brought about His public entry. He thereby\nacts in a way perfectly unlike His whole previous course. And He\nstirs up popular feelings at a time when they were specially\nexcitable by reason of the approaching Passover and its crowds.\nFormerly He had avoided the danger which He now seems to court, and\nhad gone up to the feast 'as it were in secret.' But it was fitting\nthat once, for the last time, He should assert before the gathered\nIsrael that He was their King, and should make a last appeal.\nFormerly He had sought to avoid attracting the attention of the\nrulers; now He knows that the end is near, and deliberately makes\nHimself conspicuous, though--or we might say because--He knew that\nthereby He precipitated His death.\n\nThe nature of His dominion is as plainly taught by the humble pomp\nas is its reality. A pauper King, who makes His public entrance into\nHis city mounted on a borrowed ass, with His followers' clothes for\na saddle, attended by a shouting crowd of poor peasants, for weapons\nor banners had but the branches plucked from other people's trees,\nwas a new kind of king.\n\nWe do not need Matthew's quotation of the prophet's vision of the\nmeek King coming to Zion on an ass, to understand the contrast of\nthis kingdom with such a dominion as that of Rome, or of such\nprinces as the Herods. Gentleness and peace, a sway that rests not\non force nor wealth, are shadowed in that rustic procession and the\npathetic poverty of its leader, throned on a borrowed colt, and\nattended, not by warriors or dignitaries, but by poor men unarmed,\nand saluted, not with the blare of trumpets, but with the shouts of\njoyful, though, alas! fickle hearts.\n\nII. We have the humble procession with the shouting disciples and\nthe background of hostile spies. The disciples eagerly caught at the\nmeaning of bringing the colt, and threw themselves with alacrity\ninto what seemed to them preparation for the public assertion of\nroyalty, for which they had long been impatient. Luke tells us that\nthey lifted Jesus on to the seat which they hurriedly prepared,\nwhile some spread their garments in the way--the usual homage to a\nking:\n\n  'Ride on triumphantly; behold, we lay\n  Our lusts and proud wills in Thy way.'\n\nHow different the vision of the future in their minds and His! They\ndreamed of a throne; He knew it was a Cross. Round the southern\nshoulder of Olivet they came, and, as the long line of the Temple\nwalls, glittering in the sunshine across the valley, burst on the\nview, and their approach could be seen from the city, they broke\ninto loud acclamations, summoning, as it were, Jerusalem to welcome\nits King.\n\nLuke's version of their chant omits the Jewish colouring which it\nhas in the other Gospels, as was natural, in view of his Gentile\nreaders. Christ's royalty and divine commission are proclaimed from\na thousand throats, and then up swells the shout of praise, which\nechoes the angels' song at Bethlehem, and ascribes to His coming,\npower to make peace in heaven with an else alienated world, and thus\nto make the divine glory blaze with new splendour even in the\nhighest heavens.\n\nTheir song was wiser than they knew, and touched the deepest,\nsweetest mysteries of the unity of the Son with the Father, of\nreconciliation by the blood of His Cross, and of the new lustre\naccruing to God's name thereby, even in the sight of principalities\nand powers in heavenly places. They meant none of these things,\nbut they were unconscious prophets. Their shouts died away, and\ntheir faith was almost as short-lived. With many of them, it\nwithered before the branches which they waved.\n\nHigh-wrought emotion is a poor substitute for steady conviction. But\ncool, unemotional recognition of Christ as King is as unnatural. If\nour hearts do not glow with loyal love, nor leap up to welcome Him;\nif the contemplation of His work and its issues on earth and in\nheaven does not make our dumb tongues sing--we have need to ask\nourselves if we believe at all that He is the King and Saviour of\nall and of us. There were cool observers there, and they make the\nfoil to the glad enthusiasm. Note that these Pharisees, mingling in\nthe crowd, have no title for Jesus but 'Teacher.' He is no king to\nthem. To those who regard Jesus but as a human teacher, the\nacclamations of those to whom He is King and Lord always sound\nexaggerated.\n\nPeople with no depth of religious life hate religious emotion, and\nare always seeking to repress it. A very tepid worship is warm\nenough for them. Formalists detest genuine feeling. Propriety is\ntheir ideal. No doubt, too, these croakers feared that this tumult\nmight come to formidable size, and bring down Pilate's heavy hand on\nthem.\n\nChrist's answer is probably a quoted proverb. It implies His entire\nacceptance of the character which the crowd ascribed to Him, His\npleasure in their praises, and, in a wider aspect, His vindication\nof outbursts of devout feeling, which shock ecclesiastical martinets\nand formalists.\n\nIII. We see the sorrowing King plunged in bitter grief in the very\nhour of His triumph. Who can venture to speak of that infinitely\npathetic scene? The fair city, smiling across the glen, brings\nbefore His vision the awful contrast of its lying compassed by\narmies and in ruins. He hears not the acclamation of the crowd. 'He\nwept,' or, rather, 'wailed,'--for the word does not imply tears so\nmuch as cries. That sorrow is a sign of His real manhood, but it is\nalso a part of His revelation of the very heart of God. The form is\nhuman, the substance divine. The man weeps because God pities.\nChrist's sorrow does not hinder His judgments. The woes which wring\nHis heart will nevertheless be inflicted by Him. Judgment is His\n'strange work,' alien from His desires; but it is His work. The eyes\nwhich are as a flame of fire are filled with tears, but their glance\nburns up the evil.\n\nNote the yearning in the unfinished sentence, 'If thou hadst known.'\nNote the decisive closing of the time of repentance. Note the minute\nprophetic details of the siege, which, if ever they were spoken, are\na distinct proof of His all-seeing eye. And from all let us fix in\nour hearts the conviction of the pity of the judge, and of the\njudgment by the pitying Christ.\n\nIV. We have Christ's exercise of sovereign authority in His Father's\nhouse. Luke gives but a summary in verses 45-48, dwelling mainly on\ntwo points. First he tells of casting out the traders. Two things\nare brought out in the compressed narrative--the fact, and the\nLord's vindication of it. As to the former, it was fitting that at\nthe end of His career, as at the beginning, He should cleanse the\nTemple. The two events are significant as His first and last acts.\nThe second one, as we gather from the other Evangelists, had a\ngreater severity about it than the first.\n\nThe need for a second purifying indicated how sadly transient had\nbeen the effect of the first, and was thus evidence of the depth of\ncorruption and formalism to which the religion of priests and people\nhad sunk. Christ had come to cleanse the Temple of the world's\nreligion, to banish from it mercenaries and self-interested\nattendants at the altar, and, in a higher application of the\nincident, to clear away all the degradations and uncleannesses which\nare associated with worship everywhere but in His Church, and which\nare ever seeking, like poisonous air, to find their way in thither\nalso, through any unguarded chink.\n\nThe vindication of the act is in right royal style. The first\ncleansing was defended by Him by pointing to the sanctity of 'My\nFather's house'; the second, by claiming it as 'My house.' The\nrebuke of the hucksters is sterner the second time. The profanation,\nonce driven out and returning, is deeper; for whereas, in the first\ninstance, it had made the Temple 'a house of merchandise,' in the\nsecond it turned it into a 'den of robbers.' Thus evil assumes a\ndarker tint, like old oak, by lapse of time, and swiftly becomes\nworse, if rebuked and chastised in vain.\n\nThe second part of this summary puts in sharp contrast three\nthings--Christ's calm courage in continuous teaching in the Temple,\nthe growing bitter hatred of the authorities, who drew in their train\nthe men of influence holding no office, and the eager hanging of the\npeople on His words, which baffled the murderous designs of the\nrulers. The same intentional publicity as in the entrance is\nobvious. Jesus knew that His hour was come, and willingly presents\nHimself a sacrifice. Meekly and boldly He goes on the appointed way.\nHe sees all the hate working round Him, and lets it work. The day's\ntask of winning some from impending ruin shall still be done. So\nshould His servants live, in patient discharge of daily duty, in the\nface of death, if need be.\n\nThe enemies, who heard His words and found in them only food for\ndeeper hatred, may warn us of the possibilities of antagonism to Him\nthat lie in the heart, and of the terrible judgment which they drag\ndown on their own heads, who hear, unmoved, His daily teaching, and\nsee, unrepentant, His dying love. The crowd that listened, and, in\nless than a week yelled 'Crucify Him,' may teach us to take heed how\nwe hear, and to beware of evanescent regard for His teaching, which,\nif it do not consolidate into resolved and thoroughgoing acceptance\nof His work and submission to His rule, will certainly cool into\ndisregard, and may harden into hate.\n\n\n\n\nTENANTS WHO WANTED TO BE OWNERS\n\n\n    'Then began He to speak to the people this parable; A\n    certain man planted a vineyard, and let it forth to\n    husbandmen, and went into a far country for a long\n    time. 10. And at the season he sent a servant to the\n    husbandmen, that they should give him of the fruit of\n    the vineyard: but the husbandmen beat him, and sent\n    him away empty. 11. And again he sent another servant:\n    and they beat him also, and entreated him shamefully,\n    and sent him away empty. 12. And again he sent a third:\n    and they wounded him also, and cast him out. 13. Then\n    said the lord of the vineyard, What shall I do? I will\n    send my beloved son: it may be they will reverence him\n    when they see him. 14. But when the husbandmen saw him,\n    they reasoned among themselves, saying, This is the\n    heir: come, let us kill him, that the inheritance may\n    be ours. 15. So they cast him out of the vineyard, and\n    killed him. What therefore shall the lord of the\n    vineyard do unto them? 16. He shall come and destroy\n    these husbandmen, and shall give the vineyard to\n    others. And when they heard it, they said, God forbid.\n    17. And he beheld them, and said, what is this then that\n    is written, The stone which the builders rejected, the\n    same is become the head of the corner? 18. Whosoever\n    shall fall upon that stone shall be broken; but on\n    whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder.\n    19. And the chief priests and the scribes the same hour\n    sought to lay hands on Him; and they feared the people:\n    for they perceived that He had spoken this parable\n    against them.'--LUKE xx. 9-19.\n\nAs the crisis came near, Jesus increased His severity and plainness\nof speech. This parable, which was spoken very near the end of the\nprotracted duel with the officials in the Temple, is transparent in\nits application, and hit its mark immediately. The rulers at once\nperceived that it was directed against them. The cap fitted too well\nnot to be put on. But it contains prophecy as well as history, and\nthe reference to Jesus' impending fate is almost as transparent as\nthe indictment of the rulers, while the prediction of the\ntransference of the vineyard to others is as easy of translation as\neither of the other points.\n\nSuch plain speaking was fitting for last words. The urgency of\nChrist's pleading love, as much as the intensity of His moral\nindignation, made them plain.\n\nI. We note, first, the vineyard, its lord and its tenants. The\nmetaphor was familiar, for Isaiah had 'sung a song touching' Israel\nas God's vineyard, and other prophets had caught up the emblem, so\nthat it had become a commonplace, known by all. The parable\ndistinctly alludes to Isaiah's words, and almost reproduces them.\nMatthew's version enlarges on details of the appliances provided by\nthe owner, which makes the parallel with Isaiah still more\nnoticeable. But Luke summarises these into the simple 'planted.'\nThat covers the whole ground.\n\nGod had given Israel a system of revelation, law, and worship, which\nwas competent to produce in those who received it, the fruit of\nobedience and thankfulness. The husbandmen are primarily the rulers,\nas the scribes and chief priests perceived; but the nation which\nendorsed, by permitting their action, is included. The picture drawn\napplies to us as truly as to the Jews. The transference of the\nvineyard to another set of tenants, which Christ threatened at the\nclose of the parable, has been accomplished, and so we, by our\npossession of the Gospel, are entrusted with the vineyard, and are\nresponsible for rendering the fruits of holy living and love.\n\nThe owner 'let it out, and went into another country for a long\ntime.' That is a picturesque way of saying that we have apparent\npossession, and are left free to act, God not being manifestly close\nto us. He stands off, as it were, from the creatures whom He has\nmade, and gives them room to do as they will. But all our\npossessions, as well as the revelation of Himself in Christ, are\nonly let to us, and we have rent to pay.\n\nThe collectors sent for the fruit are, of course, the series of\nprophets. Luke specifies three--a round number, indicating\ncompleteness. He says nothing about the times between their\nmissions, but implies that the three covered the whole period till\nthe sending of the son. Their treatment was uniform, as the history\nof Israel proved. The habit of rejecting the prophets was\nhereditary.\n\nThere is such a thing as national solidarity stretching through\nages. The bold charge made by Stephen was only an echo of this\nparable, when he cried, 'As your fathers did, so do ye. Which of the\nprophets did not your fathers persecute?' Each generation made the\nancestral sin its own, and staggered under a heavier burden of\nguilt, till, at last, came a generation which had to bear the\npenalty of all the blood of prophets shed from the beginning.\nNations live, though their component atoms die, and only national\nrepudiation of bequeathed sins can avert the crash which, sooner or\nlater, avenges them.\n\nThe husbandmen treated the messengers with increasing contumely and\ncruelty. Content with beating the first, they added shameful\ntreatment in the second case, and proceeded to wounding in the\nthird. If God's repeated appeals do not melt, they harden, the\nheart. The persistence of His messengers leads to fiercer hatred, if\nit does not produce yielding love. There is no bitterness equal to\nthat of the man who has often stiffened conscience against the\ntruth.\n\nII. So far, no doubt could be entertained of the meaning of the\nscathing parable. There was probably as little about that of the\nnext part. We cannot but notice the broad distinction which Jesus\ndraws between Himself and the mightiest of the prophets. They were\nthe owner's 'slaves'; He was His 'beloved Son.' The writer of the\nEpistle to the Hebrews begins his letter with the same contrast,\nwhich he may have learned from the parable. It is a commonplace for\nus, but let us ponder how it must have sounded to that hostile,\neager crowd, and ask ourselves how such assumptions can be\nreconciled with the 'sweet reasonableness' of Jesus if he belonged\nto the same category as an Isaiah or a Micah.\n\nThe yearning of divine love for the fruit of reverence and obedience\nis wonderfully expressed by the bold putting of an uncertain hope\ninto the owner's mouth. He must have known that he was running a\nrisk in sending his son, but he so much desires to bring the\ndishonest workmen back to their duty that he is willing to run it.\nThe highly figurative expression is meant to emphasise God's longing\nfor men's hearts, and His patient love which 'hopeth all things' and\nwill not cease from effort to win us so long as an arrow remains in\nHis quiver.\n\nIII. Our Lord now passes to prophecy. Deep sadness is in His tone as\nHe tells how the only effect of His coming had been to stir up\nopposition. They 'saw Him' and were they touched? No, they only\ngripped their privileges the tighter, and determined more fiercely\nto assert their ownership.\n\nNothing is more remarkable in the parable than the calmness of Jesus\nin announcing His impending fate. He knows it all, and His voice has\nno tremor, as He tells it as though He were speaking of another. The\nvery announcement that He penetrated the murderous designs hidden in\nmany of the hearers' hearts would tend to precipitate their\nexecution of these; but He is ready for the Cross, and its nearness\nhas no terror, not because He was impassive, or free from the\nshrinking proper to flesh, but because He was resolved to save.\nTherefore He was resolved to suffer.\n\nThe husbandmen's reasonings with one another bring into plain words\nthoughts which probably were not consciously held by any even of the\nrulers. They open the question as to how far the rulers knew the\ntruth of Christ's claims. They at least knew what these were, and\nthey had fought down dawning convictions which, fairly dealt with,\nwould have broadened into daylight. They would not have been so\nfiercely antagonistic if they had not been pricked by an uneasy\ndoubt whether, after all, perhaps there was something in these\nclaims.\n\nNothing steels men against admitting a truth so surely as the\nsuspicion that, if they were to inquire a little farther, they might\nfind themselves believing it. Knowledge and ignorance blended in\nthese rulers as in us all. If they had not known at all, they would\nnot have needed the Saviour's dying prayer for their forgiveness; if\nthey had known fully, its very ground would have been taken away.\n\nThe motive put into their mouths is the wish to seize the vineyard\nfor their own; and was not the very soul of the rulers' hostility\nthe determination to keep hold of the prerogatives of their offices,\nwhile priests and people alike were deaf to Jesus, because they\nwished to be no more troubled by being reminded of their obligations\nto render obedience to God? The root of all rejection of Christ is\nthe desire of self-will to reign supreme. Men resent being reminded\nthat they are tenants, and are determined to assert ownership.\n\nJesus carries the hearers beyond the final crime which filled the\nmeasure of sin, and exhausted the resources of God. The sharp turn\nfrom narrative to question, in verse 15, not only is like the sudden\nthrust of a spear, but marks the transition from the present and\nimmediate future to a more distant day. The slaying of the heir was\nthe last act of the vine-dressers. The owner would act next. Luke,\nlike Mark, puts the threatening of retribution into Christ's lips,\nwhile Matthew makes it the answer of the rulers to his question.\nLuke alone gives the exclamation, 'God forbid!' The ready answer in\nMatthew, and the pious interjection in Luke, have the same purpose,--to\nblunt the application of the parable to themselves by appearing to be\nunconcerned.\n\nTheir levity and reluctance to take home the lesson moved our Lord\nto sternness, which burned in His steadfast eyes as He looked on\nthem, and must have been remembered by some disciple whose memory\nhas preserved that look for us. It was the prelude to a still less\nveiled prophecy of the fall of Israel. Jesus lays His hand on the\nancient prophecy of the stone rejected by the builders, and applies\nit to Himself. He is the sure foundation of which Isaiah had spoken.\nHe is the stone rejected by Israel, but elevated to the summit of\nthe building, and there joining two diverging walls.\n\nThe solemn warning closing the parable had its special meaning in\nregard to Israel, but its dread force extends to us. To fall on the\nstone while it lies lowly on the earth is to lame one's self, but to\nhave it fall on a man when it rushes down from its elevation is ruin\nutter and irremediable. 'If they escaped not who refused Him that\nspake on earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from\nHim that speaketh from heaven.'\n\n\n\n\nWHOSE IMAGE AND SUPERSCRIPTION?\n\n\n    'Whose image and superscription hath it?'--Luke xx. 24.\n\nIt is no unusual thing for antagonists to join forces in order to\ncrush a third person obnoxious to both. So in this incident we have\nan unnatural alliance of the two parties in Jewish politics who were\nat daggers drawn. The representatives of the narrow conservative\nJudaism, which loathed a foreign yoke, in the person of the\nPharisees and Scribes, and the Herodians, the partisans of a\nforeigner and a usurper, lay their heads together to propose a\nquestion to Christ which they think will discredit or destroy Him.\nThey would have answered their own question in opposite ways. One\nwould have said, 'It _is_ lawful to give tribute to Caesar';\nthe other would have said, 'It is not.' But that is a small matter\nwhen malice prompts. They calculate, 'If He says, No! we will\ndenounce Him to Pilate as a rebel. If He says, Yes! we will go to\nthe people and say, Here is a pretty Messiah for you, that has no\nobjection to the foreign yoke. Either way we shall end Him.'\n\nJesus Christ serenely walks through the cobwebs, and lays His hand\nupon the fact. 'Let Me see a silver penny!'--which, by the bye, was\nthe amount of the tribute--'Whose head is that?' The currency of the\ncountry proclaims the monarch of the country. To stamp his image on\nthe coin is an act of sovereignty. 'Caesar's head declares that you\nare Caesar's subjects, whether you like it or not, and it is too\nlate to ask questions about tribute when you pay your bills in\nhis money.' 'Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's.'\n\nDoes not the other side of Christ's answer--'to God the things that\nare God's'--rest upon a similar fact? Does not the parallelism\nrequire that we should suppose that the destiny of things to be\ndevoted to God is stamped upon them, whatever they are, at least as\nplainly as the right of Caesar to exact tribute was inferred from\nthe fact that his money was the currency of the country? The thought\nwidens out in a great many directions, but I want to confine it to\none special line of contemplation, and to take it as suggesting to\neach of us this great truth, that the very make of men shows that\nthey belong to God, and are bound to yield themselves to Him. If the\nanswer to the question be plain, and the conclusion irresistible,\nabout the penny with the image of Tiberius, the answer is no less\nplain, nor the conclusion less irresistible, when we turn the\ninterrogation within, and, looking at our own being, say to\nourselves, 'Whose image and superscription hath _it_?'\n\nI. First, then, note the image stamped upon man, and the consequent\nobligation.\n\nWe can very often tell what a thing is for by noticing its make. The\ninstructed eye of an anatomist will, from a bone, divine the sphere\nin which the creature to whom it belonged was intended to live. Just\nas plainly as gills or lungs, fins or wings, or legs and arms,\ndeclare the element in which the creature that possesses them is\nintended to move, so plainly stamped upon all our natures is this,\nthat God is our Lord since we are made in a true sense in His image,\nand that only in Him can we find rest.\n\nI need not remind you, I suppose, of the old word, 'Let us make man\nin our own image.' Nor need I, I suppose, insist at any length upon\nthe truth that though, by the fact of man's sin, the whole glory and\nsplendour of the divine image in which he was made is marred and\ndefaced, there still remain such solemn, blessed, and awful\nresemblances between man and God that there can be no mistake as to\nwhich beings in the universe are the most kindred; nor any\nmisunderstanding as to who it is after whose likeness we are formed,\nand in whose love and life alone we can be blessed.\n\nI am not going to weary you with thoughts for which, perhaps, the\npulpit is not the proper place; but let me just remind you of one or\ntwo points. Is there any other being on this earth that can say of\nitself 'I am'? God says '_I am that I am'_. You and I cannot\nsay that, but we alone, in this order of things, possess that solemn\nand awful gift, the consciousness of our personal being. And,\nbrethren, whoever is able to say to himself 'I am' will never know\nrest until he can turn to God and say 'Thou art,' and then, laying\nhis hand in the Great Father's hand, venture to say '_We_ are.'\nWe are made in His image, in that profoundest of all senses.\n\nBut to come to something less recondite. We are like God in that we\ncan love; we are like Him in that we can perceive the right, and\nthat the right is supreme; we are like Him in that we have the power\nto say 'I will.' And these great capacities demand that the creature\nwho thus knows himself to be, who thus knows the right, who thus can\nlove, who thus can purpose, resolve, and act, should find his home\nand his refuge in fellowship with God.\n\nBut if you take a coin, and compare it with the die from which it\nhas been struck, you will find that wherever in the die there is a\nrelief, in the coin there is a sunken place; and conversely. So\nthere are not only resemblances in man to the divine nature, which\nbear upon them the manifest marks of his destiny, but there are\ncorrespondences, wants, on our side, being met by gifts upon His;\nhollow emptinesses in us being filled, when we are brought into\ncontact with Him, by the abundance of His outstanding supplies and\ngifts. So the poorest, narrowest, meanest life has in it a depth of\ndesire, an ardour, and sometimes a pain and a madness of yearning\nand longing which nothing but God can fill. Though we often\nmisunderstand the voice, and so make ourselves miserable by vain\nefforts, our 'heart and our flesh,' in every fibre of our being,\n'cry out for the living God.' And what we all want is some one Pearl\nof great price into which all the dispersed preciousness and\nfragmentary brilliances that dazzle the eye shall be gathered. We\nwant a Person, a living Person, a present Person, a sufficient\nPerson, who shall satisfy our hearts, our whole hearts, and that at\none and the same time, or else we shall never be at rest.\n\nBecause, then, we are made dependent, because we possess these wild\ndesires, because immortal thirst attaches to our nature, because we\nhave consciences that need illuminating, wills that are only free\nwhen they are absolutely submissive, hearts that are dissatisfied,\nand left yearning, after all the sweetnesses of limited, transient,\nand creatural affections, we bear on our very fronts the image of\nGod; and any man that wisely looks at himself can answer the\nquestion, 'Whose image and superscription hath it?' in but one way.\n'In the image of God created He him.'\n\nTherefore by loving fellowship, by lowly trust, by ardour of love,\nby submissiveness of obedience, by continuity of contemplation, by\nthe sacrifice of self, we must yield ourselves to God if we would\npay the tribute manifestly owing to the Emperor by the fact that His\nimage and superscription are upon the coin.\n\nII. And so let me ask you to look, in the next place, at the\ndefacement of the image and the wrong expenditure of the coin.\n\nYou sometimes get into your hands money on which there has been\nstamped, by mischief, or for some selfish purpose, the name of some\none else than the king's or queen's which surrounds the head upon it.\nAnd in like manner our nature has gone through the stamping-press\nagain, and another likeness has been deeply imprinted upon it. The\nimage of God, which every man has, is in some senses and aspects\nineffaceable by any course of conduct of theirs. But in another\naspect it is not like the permanent similitude stamped upon the\nsolid metal of the penny, but like the reflection, rather, that\nfalls upon some polished plate, or that is cast upon the white sheet\nfrom a lantern. If the polished plate be rusty and stained, the\nimage is faint and indistinct; if it be turned away from the light\nthe image passes. And that is what some of you are doing. By living\nto yourselves, by living day in and day out without ever remembering\nGod, by yielding to passions, lusts, ambitions, low desires, and the\nlike, you are doing your very best to erase the likeness which still\nlingers in your nature. Is there any one here that has yielded to\nsome lust of the flesh, some appetite, drunkenness, gluttony,\nimpurity, or the like, and has so sold himself to it, as that that\npart of the divine image, the power of saying 'I will,' has pretty\nnearly gone? I am afraid there must be some who, by long submission\nto passion, have lost the control that reason and conscience and a\nfirm steady purpose ought to give. Is there any man here who, by\nlong course of utter neglect of the divine love, has ceased to feel\nthat there is a heart at the centre of the universe, or that He has\nanything to do with it? Brethren, the awful power that is given\nto men of degrading themselves till, lineament by lineament, the\nlikeness in which they are made vanishes, is the saddest and most\ntragical thing in the world. 'Like the beasts that perish,' says one\nof the psalms, the men become who, by the acids and the files of\nworldliness and sensuality and passion, have so rubbed away the\nlikeness of God that it is scarcely perceptible in them. Do I speak\nto some such now? If there is nothing else left there is this, a\nhunger for absolute good and for the satisfaction of your desires.\nThat is part of the proof that you are made for God, and that only\nin Him can you find rest.\n\nAll occupations of heart and mind and will and active life with\nother things to the exclusion of supreme devotion to God are, then,\nsacrilege and rebellion. The emperor's head was the token of\nsovereignty and carried with it the obligation to pay tribute. Every\nfibre in your nature protests against the prostitution of itself to\nanything short of God. You remember the story in the Old Testament\nabout that saturnalia of debauchery, the night when Babylon fell,\nwhen Bel-shazzar, in the very wantonness of godless insolence, could\nnot be satisfied with drinking his wine out of anything less sacred\nthan the vessels that had been brought from the Temple at Jerusalem.\nThat is what many of us are doing, taking the sacred cup which is\nmeant to be filled with the wine of the kingdom and pouring into it\nthe foaming but poisonous beverages which steal away our brains and\nmake us drunk, the moment before our empire totters to its fall and\nwe to our ruin. 'All the consecrated things of the house of the Lord\nthey dedicated to Baal,' says one of the narratives in the Book of\nChronicles. That is what some of us are doing, taking the soul that\nis meant to be consecrated to God and find its blessedness there,\nand offering it to false gods in whose service there is no\nblessedness.\n\nFor, dear friends, I beseech you, lay this to heart that you cannot\nthus use the Godlike being that you possess without bringing down\nupon your heads miseries and unrest. The raven, that black bird of\nevil omen, went out from the ark, and flew homeless over the\nweltering ocean. The souls that seek not God fly thus, strangers and\nrestless, through a drowned and lifeless world. The dove came back\nwith an olive branch in its beak. Souls that are wise and have made\ntheir nests in the sanctuary can there fold their wings and be at\npeace. As the ancient saint said, 'We are made for God, and only in\nGod have we rest.' 'Oh, that thou hadst hearkened to me, then had\nthy peace been as a river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the\nsea.' Cannot you see the blessed, gentle gliding of the full stream\nthrough the meadows with the sunshine upon its ripples? Such is the\nheart that has yielded itself to God. In solemn contrast to that\nlovely image, the same prophet has for a repeated refrain in his\nbook, 'The wicked is like the troubled sea which cannot rest,' but\ngoes moaning round the world, and breaking in idle foam upon every\nshore, and still is unquiet for evermore. Brethren, only when we\nrender to God the thing that is God's--our hearts and ourselves-have\nwe repose.\n\nIII. Now, lastly, notice the restoration and perfecting of the\ndefaced image.\n\nBecause man is like God, it is possible for God to become like man.\nThe possibility of Revelation and of Redemption by an incarnate\nSaviour depend upon the reality of the fact that man is made in the\nimage of God. Thus there comes to us that divine Christ, who lays\n'His hands upon both' and being on the one hand the express image of\nHis person, so that He can say, 'He that hath seen Me hath seen the\nFather,' on the other hand 'was in all points made like unto His\nbrethren,' with only the exception that the defacement which had\nobliterated the divine image in them left it clear, untarnished, and\nsharply cut in Him.\n\nTherefore, because Jesus Christ has come, our Brother, 'bone of our\nbone, and flesh of our flesh,' made like unto us, and in our\nlikeness presenting to us the very image of God and eradiation of\nHis light, therefore no defacement that it is possible for men or\ndevils to make on this poor humanity of ours need be irrevocable and\nfinal. All the stains may be blotted out, all the usurping\nsuperscriptions may be removed and the original imprint restored.\nThe dints may be elevated, the too lofty points may be lowered, the\ntarnish and the rust may be rubbed off, and, fairer than before, the\nlikeness of God may be stamped on every one of us, 'after the image\nof Him that created us,' if only we will turn ourselves to that dear\nLord, and cast our souls upon Him. Christ hath become like us that\nwe might become like Him, and therein be partakers of the divine\nnature. 'We all, reflecting as a glass does the glory of the Lord,\nmay be changed into the same image from glory to glory.'\n\nNor do the possibilities stop there, for we look forward to a time\nwhen, if I might pursue the metaphor of my text, the coinage shall\nbe called in and reminted, in new forms of nobleness and of\nlikeness. We have before us this great prospect, that 'we shall be\nlike Him, for we shall see Him as He is'; and in all the glories of\nthat heaven we shall partake, for all that is Christ's is ours, and\n'we that have borne the image of the earthly shall also bear the\nimage of the heavenly.'\n\nI come to you, then, with this old question: 'Whose image and\nsuperscription hath it?' and the old exhortation founded thereupon:\n'Render therefore to  God the thing that is God's'; and yield\nyourselves to Him. Another question I would ask, and pray that you\nmay lay it to heart, 'To what purpose is this waste?' What are you\ndoing with the silver penny of your own soul? Wherefore do ye 'spend\nit for that which is not bread?' Give yourselves to God; trust\nyourselves to the Christ who is like you, and like Him. And, resting\nupon His great love you will be saved from the prostitution of\ncapacities, and the vain attempts to satisfy your souls with the\nhusks of earth; and whilst you remain here will be made partakers of\nChrist's life, and growingly of His likeness, and when you remove\nyonder, your body, soul, and spirit will be conformed to His image,\nand transformed into the likeness of His glory, 'according to the\nmighty working whereby He is able even to subdue all things unto\nHimself.'\n\n\n\n\nWHEN SHALL THESE THINGS BE?\n\n\n    'And when ye shall see Jerusalem compassed with armies,\n    then know that the desolation thereof is nigh. 21. Then\n    let them which are in Judea flee to the mountains; and\n    let them which are in the midst of it depart out; and\n    let not them that are in the countries enter thereinto.\n    22. For these be the days of vengeance, that all things\n    which are written may he fulfilled. 23. But woe unto\n    them that are with child, and to them that give suck,\n    in those days! for there shall be great distress in the\n    land, and wrath upon this people. 24. And they shall\n    fall by the edge of the sword, and shall be led away\n    captive into all nations; and Jerusalem shall be\n    trodden down of the Gentiles, until the times of the\n    Gentiles be fulfilled. 25. And there shall be signs in\n    the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars; and upon\n    the earth distress of nations, with perplexity; the sea\n    and the waves roaring; 26. Men's hearts failing them\n    for fear, and for looking after those things which are\n    coming on the earth; for the powers of heaven shall be\n    shaken. 27. And then shall they see the Son of man\n    coming in a cloud, with power and great glory. 28. And\n    when these things begin to come to pass, then look up,\n    and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth\n    nigh. 29. And He spake to them a parable; Behold the\n    fig-tree, and all the trees; 30. When they now shoot\n    forth, ye see and know of your own selves that summer\n    is now nigh at hand. 31. So likewise ye, when ye see\n    these things come to pass, know ye that the kingdom of\n    God is nigh at hand. 32. Verily I say unto you, This\n    generation shall not pass away till all be fulfilled.\n    33. Heaven and earth shall pass away; but My words\n    shall not pass away. 34. And take heed to yourselves,\n    lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with\n    surfeiting, and drunkenness, and cares of this life,\n    and so that day come upon you unawares. 35. For as a\n    snare shall it come on all them that dwell on the face\n    of the whole earth. 36. Watch ye therefore, and pray\n    always, that ye may be accounted worthy to escape all\n    these things that shall come to pass, and to stand\n    before the Son of Man.'--LUKE xxi. 20-36.\n\nThis discourse of our Lord's is in answer to the disciples' double\nquestion as to the time of the overthrow of the Temple and the\npremonitory signs of its approach. The former is answered with the\nindefiniteness which characterises prophetic chronology; the\nlatter is plainly answered in verse 20.\n\nThe whole passage divides itself in four well-marked sections.\n\nI. There is the prediction of the fall of Jerusalem (vs. 20-24). The\n'sign' of her 'desolation' was to be the advance of the enemy to her\nwalls. Armies had been many times encamped round her, and many times\nbeen scattered; but this siege was to end in capture, and no angel\nof the Lord would stalk by night through the sleeping host, to\nstiffen sleep into death, nor would any valour of the besieged\navail. Their cause was to be hopeless from the first. Flight was\nenjoined. Usually the inhabitants of the open country took refuge in\nthe fortified capital when invasion harrowed their fields; but this\ntime, for 'them that are in the country' to 'enter therein' was to\nthrow away their last chance of safety. The Christians obeyed, and\nfled, as we all know, across Jordan to Pella. The rest despised\nJesus' warning--if they knew it,---and perished.\n\nMark the reason for the exhortation not to resist, but to flee:\nThese are days of vengeance, that all things which are written may\nbe fulfilled.' That is to say, the besiegers are sent by God to\nexecute His righteous and long-ago-pronounced judgments. Therefore\nit is vain to struggle against them. Behind the Roman army is the\nGod of Israel. To dash against their cohorts is to throw one's self\non the thick bosses of the Almighty's buckler, and none who dare do\nthat can 'prosper.' Submission to His retributive hand is the only\nway to escape being crushed by it. Chastisement accepted is\nsalutary, but kicking against it drives the goad deeper into the\nrebellious limb.\n\nSo great is the agony to be, that what should be a joy, the birth of\nchildren, will be a woe, and the sweet duties of motherhood a curse,\nwhile the childless will be happier than the fugitives burdened with\nhelpless infancy. We should note, too, that the 'distress' which\ncomes upon the land is presented in darker colours, and traced to\nits origin, in (God's)'wrath' dealt out 'unto this people.' Happier\nthey who 'fall by the edge of the sword' than they who are led\n'captive into all the nations.'\n\nA gleam of hope shoots through the stormy prospect, for the treading\ndown of Jerusalem by the Gentiles has a term set to it. It is to\ncontinue 'till the times of the Gentiles are fulfilled.' That\nexpression is important, for it clearly implies that these 'times'\nare of considerable duration, and it thus places a period of\nundefined extent between the fall of Jerusalem and the subsequent\nprophecy. The word used for 'times' generally carries with it the\nnotion of opportunity, and here seems to indicate that the break-up\nof the Jewish national existence would usher in a period in which\nthe 'Gentiles' would have the kingdom of God offered to them. The\nhistory of the world since the city fell is the best comment on this\nsaying.\n\nII. Since the 'times of the Gentiles' are thus of indefinite\nduration, they make a broad line of demarcation between what\nprecedes and what follows them. Clearly the prophecy in verses 25-27\nis separated in time from the fall of Jerusalem, and it is no\nobjection to that view that the separation is not more emphatically\npointed out by our Lord. These verses distinctly refer to His last\ncoming to judgment. Verse 27 is too grand and too distinctly cast in\nthe mould of the other predictions of that coming to be interpreted\nof His ideal coming in the judgments on the city.\n\nThe 'signs in sun and moon and stars' may refer in accordance with a\nfamiliar symbolism, to the overthrow of royalties and dominions; the\nsea roaring may, in like manner, symbolise agitations among the\npeople; but the 'cloud' and the 'power and great glory' with which\nthe Son of man comes, can mean nothing else than what they mean in\nother prophetic passages; namely, His visible appearance, invested\nwith the shekinah light, and wielding divine authority before the\ngaze of a world.\n\nThe city's fall, then, was the initial stage of a process, the\nduration of which is undefined here, but implied to be considerable,\nand of which the closing stage is the personal coming of Jesus. The\nsame conclusion is supported by verse 28, which treats that fall as\nthe beginning of the fulfilment of the prophecy.\n\nIII. That verse forms a transition to the section containing the\nillustrative parable and the reiteration of the assurance that\nChrist's words would certainly be fulfilled. The disciples might\nnaturally quake at the prospect, and wonder how they could face the\nreality. Jesus gives them strong words of cheer, which apply to all\ndreaded contingencies and to all social convulsions. What is a\nmessenger of destruction to Christless men and institutions is a\nharbinger of full 'redemption' to His servants. Earthquakes but open\ntheir prison doors and loose their bands, they should not shake\ntheir hearts.\n\nHistorically the fall of Jerusalem was a powerful factor in the\ndeliverance of the Church from Jewish swaddling-bands which hampered\nits growing limbs. For all Christians the destruction of what can\nperish brings fuller vision and possession of what cannot be shaken.\nTo Christ's friends, all things work for good. So the parable which\nat first sight seems strangely incongruous becomes blessedly\nsignificant and fitting. The gladsome blossoming of the trees, the\nherald of the glories of summer, is a strange emblem of such a\ntragedy, and summer itself is a still stranger one of that solemn\nlast judgment. But the might of humble trust in Him who comes to\njudge makes His coming summer-like in the light and warmth with\nwhich it floods the soul, and the rich fruitage which it produces\nthere.\n\nObserve, too, that the parable confirms the idea of a process having\nstages, for the lesson of the blossoming fig-tree is not that summer\nhas come, but that it is nigh.\n\nThe solemn assurance in verse 32, made more weighty by the 'Verily I\nsay,' seems at first sight to bring the final judgment within the\nlifetime of the generation of the hearers. But it is noteworthy that\nthe expression 'till all things are fulfilled' is almost verbally\nidentical with that in verse 22, which refers only to the\ndestruction of Jerusalem, and is therefore most naturally\ninterpreted as having the same restricted application here. The\ndifference between the two phrases is significant, since in the\nformer the certainty of fulfilment is deduced from the fact of 'the\nthings' being written--that is, they must be accomplished because\nthey have been foretold in Scripture,--whereas in the latter Christ\nrests the certainty of fulfilment on His own word. That majestic\nassurance in verse 33 comes well from His lips, and makes claim that\nHis word shall outlast the whole present material order, and be\nfulfilled in every detail. Think of a mere man saying that!\n\nIV. Exhortations corresponding to the predictions follow. Christ's\nrevelation of the future was neither meant to gratify idle curiosity\nnor to supply a timetable in advance, but to minister encouragement\nand to lead to watchfulness. Whether 'that day' (ver. 34) is\nunderstood of the fall of Jerusalem or of the final coming of the\nLord, it will come 'as a snare' upon men who are absorbed with the\nearth which they inhabit. They will be captured by it, as a covey of\nbirds in a field busily picking up grain, are netted by one sudden\nfling of the fowler's net. A wary eye would have saved them.\n\nThe exhortation is as applicable to us, for, whatever are our views\nabout unfulfilled prophecy, death comes to us all at a time which we\nknow not, as the Book of Ecclesiastes, using the same figure, says;\n'Man knoweth not his time ... as the birds that are caught in the\nsnare.' Hearts must be kept above the grosser satisfactions of sense\nand the less gross cares of life, being neither stupefied with\ngorging earth's good, nor preoccupied with its gnawing anxieties,\nboth of which are destructive of the clear realisation of the\ncertain future. We are to preserve an attitude of wakefulness and of\nexpectancy, and, as the sure way to it, and to clearing our hearts\nof perishable delights and shortsighted, self-consuming cares, we\nare to keep them in a continual posture of supplication. If our\nstudy of unfulfilled prophecy does that for us, it will have done\nwhat Jesus means it to do; if it does not it matters little what\ntheories about its chronology we may adopt.\n\nThe two stages which we have tried to point out in this passage are\nclearly marked at the close, where escaping  'all these things that\nshall come to pass' and standing  'before the Son of man' are\ndistinguished. True, both stages were to be included in the\nexperience of Christ's hearers, but they are none the less separate\nstages.\n\nLuke's version of this great discourse gives less prominence to the\nfinal coming than does Matthew's, and does not blend the two stages\nso inextricably together; but it gives no hint of the duration of\nthe 'times of the Gentiles,' and might well leave the impression\nthat these were brief. Now in this close setting together of a\nnearer and a much more remote future, with little prominence given\nto the interval between, our Lord is but bringing His prophecy into\nline with the constant manner of the older prophets. They and He\npaint the future in perspective, and the distance, seen behind the\nforeground, seems nearer than it really is. The spectator does not\nknow how many weary miles have to be traversed before the distant\nblue hills are to be reached, nor what deep gorges lie between.\n\nSuch bringing together of events far apart in time of fulfilment\nrests in part on the fact that there have been many 'days of the\nLord,' many 'comings of Christ,' each of which is a result on a\nsmall scale of the same retributive action of the Judge of all, as\nshall be manifested on the largest scale in the last and greatest\nday of the Lord. Therefore the true use of all these predictions is\nthat which Christ enforces here; namely, that they should lead us to\nprayerful watchfulness and to living above earth, its goods and\ncares.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LORD'S SUPPER\n\n\n    'Then came the day of unleavened bread, when the\n    passover must be killed. 8. And He sent Peter and\n    John, saying, Go and prepare us the passover, that we\n    may eat. 9. And they said unto Him, Where wilt thou\n    that we prepare? 10. And He said unto them, Behold,\n    when ye are entered into the city, there shall a man\n    meet you, bearing a pitcher of water; follow him into\n    the house where he entereth in. 11. And ye shall say\n    unto the goodman of the house, The Master saith unto\n    thee, Where is the guestchamber, where I shall eat the\n    passover with My disciples? 12. And he shall shew you\n    a large upper room furnished: there make ready.\n    13. And they went, and found as He had said unto them:\n    and they made ready the passover. 14. And when the\n    hour was come, He sat down, and the twelve apostles\n    with Him. 15. And He said unto them, With desire I\n    have desired to eat this passover with you before I\n    suffer: 16. For I say unto you, I will not any more\n    eat thereof, until it be fulfilled in the kingdom of\n    God. 17. And He took the cup, and gave thanks, and\n    said, Take this, and divide it among yourselves:\n    18. For I say unto you, I will not drink of the fruit\n    of the vine, until the kingdom of God shall come.\n    19. And He took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it,\n    and gave unto them, saying, This is My body which is\n    given for you: this do in remembrance of Me.\n    20. Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This\n    cup is the new testament in My blood, which is shed\n    for you.'--LUKE xxii. 7-20.\n\nPaul had his account of the Last Supper direct from Christ. Luke\napparently had his from Paul, so that the variations from Matthew and\nMark are invested with singular interest, as probably traceable to\nthe Lord of the feast Himself. Our passage has three sections--the\npreparation, the revelation of Christ's heart, and the institution\nof the rite.\n\nI. The Preparation.--Peculiar to Luke are the names of the disciples\nentrusted with it, and the representation of the command, as\npreceding the disciples' question 'Where?' The selection of Peter\nand John indicates the confidential nature of the task, which comes\nout still more plainly in the singular directions given to them.\nLuke's order of command and question seems more precise than that of\nthe other Gospels, as making our Lord the originator instead of\nmerely responsive to the disciples' suggestion.\n\n\nHow is the designation of the place which Christ gives to be\nunderstood? Was it supernatural knowledge, or was it the result of\nprevious arrangement with the 'goodman of the house'? Most probably\nthe latter; for he was in so far a disciple that he recognised Jesus\nas 'the Master,' and was glad to have Him in his house, and the\nchamber on the roof was ready 'furnished' when they came. Why this\nmystery about the place? The verses before our passage tell the\nreason.\n\nJudas was listening, too, for the answer to 'Where?' thinking that\nit would give him the 'opportunity' which he sought 'to betray Him\nin the absence of the multitude.' Jesus had much to say to His\ndisciples, and needed the quiet hours in the upper room, and\ntherefore sent away the two with directions which revealed nothing\nto the others. If He had told the group where the house was, the\nlast supper might never have been instituted, nor the precious\nfarewell words, the holy of holies of John's Gospel, ever been\nspoken. Jesus takes precautions to delay the Cross. He takes none to\nescape it, but rather sets Himself in these last days to bring it\nnear. The variety in His action means no change in His mind, but\nboth modes are equally the result of His self-forgetting love to us\nall. So He sends away Peter and John with sealed orders, as it were,\nand the greedy ears of the traitor are balked, and none know the\nappointed place till Jesus leads them to it. The two did not come\nback, but Christ guided the others to the house, when the hour was\ncome.\n\nII. Verses 14-18 give a glimpse into Christ's heart as He partook,\nfor the last time, of the Passover. He discloses His earnest desire\nfor that last hour of calm before He went out to face the storm, and\nreveals His vision of the future feast in the perfect kingdom. That\ndesire touchingly shows His brotherhood in all our shrinking from\nparting with dear ones, and in our treasuring of the last sweet, sad\nmoments of being together. That was a true human heart, 'fashioned\nalike' with ours, which longed and planned for one quiet hour before\nthe end, and found some bracing for Gethsemane and Calvary in the\nsanctities of the Upper Room. But the desire was not for Himself\nonly. He wished to partake of that Passover, and then to transform\nit for ever, and to leave the new rite to His servants.\n\nOur Lord evidently ate of the Passover; for we cannot suppose that\nHis words in verse 15 relate to an ungratified wish, but, as\nevidently, that eating was finished before He spoke. We shall best\nconceive the course of events if we suppose that the earlier stages\nof the paschal ceremonial were duly attended to, and that the Lord's\nSupper was instituted in connection with its later parts. We need\nnot discuss what was the exact stage at which our Lord spoke and\nacted as in verses 15-17. It is sufficient to note that in them He\ngives what He does not taste, and that, in giving, His thoughts\ntravel beyond all the sorrow and death to reunion and perfected\nfestal joys. These anticipations solaced His heart in that supreme\nhour. 'For the joy that was set before Him' He 'endured the Cross,'\nand this was the crown of His joy, that all His friends should share\nit with Him, and sit at His table in His kingdom.\n\nThe prophetic aspect of the Lord's Supper should never be left out\nof view. It is at once a feast of memory and of hope, and is also a\nsymbol for the present, inasmuch as it represents the conditions of\nspiritual life as being participation in the body and blood of\nChrist. This is where Paul learned his 'till He come'; and that hope\nwhich filled the Saviour's heart should ever fill ours when we\nremember His death.\n\nIII. Verses 19 and 20 record the actual institution of the Lord's\nSupper. Note its connection with the rite which it transforms. The\nPassover was the memorial of deliverance, the very centre of Jewish\nritual. It was a family feast, and our Lord took the place of the\nhead of the household. That solemnly appointed and long-observed\nmemorial of the deliverance which made a mob of slaves into a nation\nis transfigured by Jesus, who calls upon Jew and Gentile to forget\nthe venerable meaning of the rite, and remember rather His work for\nall men. It is strange presumption thus to brush aside the Passover,\nand in effect to say, 'I abrogate a divinely enjoined ceremony, and\nbreathe a new meaning into so much of it as I retain.' Who is He who\nthus tampers with God's commandments? Surely He is either One having\na co-ordinate authority, or----? But perhaps the alternative is best\nleft unspoken.\n\nThe separation of the symbols of the body and blood plainly\nindicates that it is the death of Jesus, and that a violent one,\nwhich is commemorated. The double symbol carries in both its parts\nthe same truth, but with differences. Both teach that all our hopes\nare rooted in the death of Jesus, and that the only true life of our\nspirits comes from participation in His death, and thereby in His\nlife. But in addition to this truth common to both, the wine, which\nrepresents His blood, is the seal of the 'new covenant.' Again we\nmark the extraordinary freedom with which Christ handles the most\nsacred parts of the former revelation, putting them aside as He\nwills, to set Himself in their place. He declares, by this rite,\nthat through His death a new 'covenant' comes into force as between\nGod and man, in which all the anticipations of prophets are more\nthan realised, and sins are remembered no more, and the knowledge of\nGod becomes the blessing of all, and a close relationship of mutual\npossession is established between God and us, and His laws are\nwritten on loving hearts and softened wills.\n\nNor is even this all the meaning of that cup of blessing; for blood\nis the vehicle of life, and whoso receives Christ's blood on his\nconscience, to sprinkle it from dead works, therein receives, not\nonly cleansing for the past, but a real communication of 'the Spirit\nof life' which was 'in Christ' to be the life of his life, so as\nthat he can say, 'I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.' Nor\nis even this all; for, as wine is, all the world over, the emblem of\nfestivity, so this cup declares that to partake of Christ is to have\na fountain of joy in ourselves, which yet has a better source than\nourselves. Nor is this all; for 'this cup' is prophecy as well as\nmemorial and symbol, and shadows the new wine of the kingdom and the\nmarriage supper of the Lamb.\n\n'This is My body' could not have meant to the hearers, who saw Him\nsitting there in bodily form, anything but 'this is a symbol of My\nbody.' It is but the common use of the word in explaining a\nfigurative speech or act. 'The field is the world; the tares are the\nchildren of the wicked one; the reapers are the angels,'--and so in\na hundred cases.\n\nLuke alone preserves for us the command to 'do this,' which at once\nestablishes the rite as meant to be perpetual, and defines the true\nnature of it. It is a memorial, and, if we are to take our Lord's\nown explanation, only a memorial. There is nothing here of\nsacramental efficacy, but simply the loving desire to be remembered\nand the condescending entrusting of some power to recall him to\nthese outward symbols. Strange that, if the communion were so much\nmore, as the sacramentarian theory makes it, the feast's own Founder\nshould not have said a word to hint that it was.\n\nAnd how deep and yet lowly an insight into His hold on our hearts\nthe institution of this ordinance shows Him to have had! The Greek\nis, literally, 'In order to My remembrance.' He knew that--strange\nand sad as it may seem, and impossible as, no doubt, it did seem to\nthe disciples--we should be in constant danger of forgetting Him;\nand therefore, in this one case, He enlists sense on the side of\nfaith, and trusts to these homely memorials the recalling, to our\ntreacherous memories, of His dying love. He wished to live in our\nhearts, and that for the satisfaction of His own love and for the\ndeepening of ours.\n\nThe Lord's Supper is a standing evidence of Christ's own estimate of\nwhere the centre of His work lies. We are to remember His death. Why\nshould it be selected as the chief treasure for memory, unless it\nwas something altogether different from the death of other wise\nteachers and benefactors? If it were in His case what it is in all\nothers, the end of His activity for blessing, and no part of His\nmessage to the world, what need is there for the Lord's Supper, and\nwhat meaning is there in it, if Christ's death were not the\nsacrifice for the world's sin? Surely no view of the significance\nand purpose of the Cross but that which sees in it the propitiation\nfor the world's sins accounts for this rite. A Christianity which\nstrikes the atoning death of Jesus out of its theology is sorely\nembarrassed to find a worthy meaning for His dying command, 'This do\nin remembrance of Me.'\n\nBut if the breaking of the precious alabaster box of His body was\nneeded in order that 'the house' might be 'filled with the odour of\nthe ointment,' and if His death was the indispensable condition of\npardon and impartation of His life, then 'wheresoever this gospel\nshall be preached in the whole world, there,' as its vital centre,\nshall His death be proclaimed, and this rite shall speak of it for a\nmemorial of Him, and 'show the Lord's death till He come.'\n\n\n\n\nPARTING PROMISES AND WARNINGS\n\n\n    'And there was also a strife among them, which of them\n    should be accounted the greatest. 25. And He said unto\n    them, The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over\n    them; and they that exercise authority upon them are\n    called benefactors. 26. But ye shall not be so: but he\n    that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger;\n    and he that is chief, as he that doth serve. 27. For\n    whether is greater, he that sitteth at meat, or he\n    that serveth? is not he that sitteth at meat? but I am\n    among you as He that serveth. 28. Ye are they which\n    have continued with Me in My temptations. 29. And I\n    appoint unto you a kingdom, as My Father hath\n    appointed unto Me; 30. That ye may eat and drink at My\n    table in My kingdom and sit on thrones judging the\n    twelve tribes of Israel. 31. And the Lord said, Simon,\n    Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he\n    may sift you as wheat: 32. But I have prayed for thee,\n    that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted,\n    strengthen thy brethren. 33. And he said unto Him,\n    Lord, I am ready to go with Thee, both into prison,\n    and to death. 34. And He said, I tell thee, Peter, the\n    cock shall not crow this day, before that thou shalt\n    thrice deny that thou knowest Me. 35. And He said unto\n    them, When I sent you without purse, and scrip, and\n    shoes, lacked ye any thing? And they said, Nothing.\n    36. Then said He unto them, But now, he that hath a\n    purse, let him take it, and likewise his scrip: and he\n    that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy\n    one. 37. For I say unto you, that this that is written\n    must yet be accomplished in Me, And He was reckoned\n    among the transgressors: for the things concerning Me\n    have an end.'--LUKE xxii. 24-37.\n\nIt was blameworthy, but only too natural, that, while Christ's heart\nwas full of His approaching sufferings, the Apostles should be\nsquabbling about their respective dignity. They thought that the\nhalf-understood predictions pointed to a brief struggle immediately\npreceding the establishment of the kingdom, and they wished to have\ntheir rank settled in advance. Possibly, too, they had been\ndisputing as to whose office was the menial task of presenting the\nbasin for foot-washing. So little did the first partakers of the\nLord's Supper 'discern the Lord's body,' and so little did His most\nloving friends share His sorrows.\n\nI. Our Lord was not so absorbed in His anticipations of the near\nCross as to be unobservant of the wrangling among the Apostles. Even\nthen His heart was enough at leisure from itself to observe, to\npity, and to help. So He at once turns to deal with the false ideas\nof greatness betrayed by the dispute. The world's notion is that the\ntrue use and exercise of superiority is to lord it over others.\nTyrants are flattered by the title of benefactor, which they do not\ndeserve, but the giving of which shows that, even in the world, some\ntrace of the true conception lingers. It was sadly true, at that\ntime, that power was used for selfish ends, and generally meant\noppression. One Egyptian king, who bore the title Benefactor, was\npopularly known as Malefactor, and many another old-world monarch\ndeserved a like name.\n\nJesus lays down the law for His followers as being the exact\nopposite of the world's notion. Dignity and pre-eminence carry\nobligations to serve. In His kingdom power is to be used to help\nothers, not to glorify oneself. In other sayings of Christ's,\nservice is declared to be the way to _become_ great in the\nkingdom, but here the matter is taken up at another point, and\ngreatness, already attained on whatever grounds, is commanded to be\nturned to its proper use. The way to become great is to become\nsmall, and to serve. The right use of greatness is to become a\nservant. That has become a familiar commonplace now, but its\nrecognition as the law for civic and other dignity is all but\nentirely owing to Christianity. What conception of such a use of\npower has the Sultan of Turkey, or the petty tyrants of heathen\nlands? The worst of European rulers have to make pretence to be\nguided by this law; and even the Pope calls himself 'the servant of\nservants.'\n\nIt is a commonplace, but like many another axiom, universal\nacceptance and almost as universal neglect are its fate. Ingrained\nselfishness fights against it. Men admire it as a beautiful saying,\nand how many of us take it as our life's guide? We condemn the\nrulers of old who wrung wealth out of their people and neglected\nevery duty; but what of our own use of the fraction of power we\npossess, or our own demeanour to our inferiors in world or church?\nHave all the occupants of royal thrones or presidential chairs, all\npeers, members of Parliament, senators, and congressmen, used their\nposition for the public weal? Do we regard ours as a trust to be\nadministered for others? Do we feel the weight of our crown, or are\nwe taken up with its jewels, and proud of ourselves for it? Christ's\npathetic words, giving Himself as the example of greatness that\nserves, are best understood as referring to His wonderful act of\nwashing the disciples' feet. Luke does not record it, and probably\ndid not know it, but how the words are lighted up if we bring them\ninto connection with it!\n\nII. Verses 28 to 30 naturally flow from the preceding. They lift a\ncorner of the veil, and show the rewards, when the heavenly form of\nthe kingdom has come, of the right use of eminence in its earthly\nform. How pathetic a glimpse into Christ's heart is given in that\nwarm utterance of gratitude for the imperfect companionship of the\nTwelve! It reveals His loneliness, His yearning for a loving hand to\ngrasp, His continual conflict with temptations to choose an easier\nway than that of the Cross. He has known all the pain of being\nalone, and feeling in vain for a sympathetic heart to lean on. He\nhas had to resist temptation, not only in the desert at the\nbeginning, or in Gethsemane at the end, but throughout His life. He\ntreasures in His heart, and richly repays, even a little love dashed\nwith much selfishness, and faithfulness broken by desertion. We do\nnot often speak of the tempted Christ, or of the lonely Christ, or\nof the grateful Christ, but in these great words we see Him as being\nall these.\n\nThe rewards promised point onwards to the perfecting of the kingdom\nin the future life. We notice the profound thought that the kingdom\nwhich His servants are to inherit is conferred on them, '_as_\nMy Father hath appointed unto Me,'--that is, that it is a kingdom\nwon by suffering and service, and wielded by gentleness and for\nothers. 'If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him.' The\ncharacteristics of the future royalty of Christ's servants are given\nin highly figurative language. A state of which we have no\nexperience can only be revealed under forms drawn from experience;\nbut these are only far-off approximations, and cannot be pressed.\n\nThe sacred Last Supper suggested one metaphor. It was the last on\nearth, but its sanctity would be renewed in heaven, and sadness and\nseparation and the following grief would not mar the perfect,\nperpetual, joyful feast. What dim visions of rule and delegated\nauthority may lie in the other promise of judging the twelve tribes\nof Israel, we must wait till we go to that world to understand. But\nthis is clear, that continuing with Jesus here leads to everlasting\ncompanionship hereafter, in which all desires shall be satisfied,\nand we shall share in His authority and be representatives of His\nglory.\n\nIII. But Jesus abruptly recalls Himself and the Twelve from these\nremoter prospects of bliss to the nearer future of trial and\nseparation. The solemn warning to Peter follows with startling\nsuddenness. Why should they be fighting about precedence when they\nwere on the verge of the sorest trial of their constancy? And as for\nPeter, who had, no doubt, not been the least loud-voiced in the\nstrife, he needed most of all to be sobered. Our narrow limits\nforbid our doing even partial justice to the scene with him; but we\nnote the significant use of the old name 'Simon,' reminding the\nApostle of his human weakness, and its repetition, giving emphasis\nto the address.\n\nWe note, too, the partial withdrawal of the veil which hides the\nspirit world from us, in the distinct declaration of the agency of a\npersonal tempter, whose power is limited, though his malice is\nboundless, and who had to obtain God's permission ere he could\ntempt. His sieve is made to let the wheat through, and to retain the\nchaff. It will be hard to empty this saying of its force. Christ\ntaught the existence and operation of Satan; but He taught, too,\nthat He Himself was Satan's victorious antagonist and our prevailing\nintercessor. He is so still. He does not seek to avert conflict from\nus, but prays that our faith fail not, and Himself, too, fulfils the\nprayer by strengthening us.\n\nFaith, then, conquers, and withstands Satan's sifting. If it holds\nout, we shall not fall, though all the winds howl round us. We are\nnot passive between the two antagonists, but have to take our share\nin the struggle. Partial failures may be followed by recovery, and\neven tend to increase our power to strengthen other tempted ones, by\nthe experience gained of our own weakness, which deepens humility\nand forbearance with others' faults, and by the experience of\nChrist's strength, which makes us able to direct them to the source\nof all safety.\n\nPeter's passionate avowal of readiness to bear anything, if only he\nwas with Christ, is the genuine utterance of a warm impulsive heart,\nwhich took too little heed of Christ's solemn warning, and fancied\nthat the tide of present feeling would always run as strong as now.\nEmotion fluctuates. Steadfast devotion is chary of mortgaging the\nfuture by promises. He who knows himself is slow to say, 'I will,'\nfor he knows that 'Oh that I may!' is fitter for his weakness. Very\nlikely, if Peter had been offered fetters or the scaffold then and\nthere, he would have accepted them bravely; but it was a different\nthing in the raw, cold morning, after an agitating night, and the\nMaster away at the far end of the great hall. A flippant maid's\ntongue was enough to finish him then.\n\nIt is sometimes easier to bear a great load for Christ than a small\none. Some of us could be martyrs at the stake more easily than\nconfessors among sneering neighbours. Jesus had spared the Apostle\nin the former warning of his fall, but He spoke plainly at last,\nsince the former had been ineffectual; and He addressed him by his\nnew name of Peter, as if to heighten the sin of denial by recalling\nthe privileges bestowed.\n\nIV. The last part of the passage deals with the new conditions\nconsequent on Christ's departure. The Twelve had been exempt from\nthe care of providing for themselves while He was with them, but now\nthey are to be launched into the world alone, like fledglings from\nthe nest. Not that His presence is not with them or with us, but\nthat His absence throws the task of providing for wants and guarding\nagainst dangers on themselves, as had not been the case during the\nblessed years of companionship. Hence the injunctions in verse 36\nlay down the permanent law for the Church, while verse 37 assigns as\nits reason the speedy fulfilment of the prophecies of Messiah's\nsufferings.\n\nSubstantially the meaning of the whole is: 'I am on the point of\nleaving you, and, when I am gone, you must use common-sense means\nfor provision and protection. I provided for you while I was here,\nwithout your co-operation. Remember how I did so, and trust Me to\nprovide in future, through your co-operation.'\n\nThe life of faith does not exclude ordinary prudence and the use of\nappropriate means. It is more in accord with Christ's mind to have a\npurse to keep money in, and a wallet for food-stores, than to go\nout, as some good people do, saying, 'The Lord will provide.' Yes,\nHe will; but it will be by blessing your common-sense and effort. As\nto the difficulty felt in the injunction to buy a sword, our Lord\nwould be contradicting His whole teaching if He was here commanding\nthe use of arms for the defence of His servants or the promotion of\nHis kingdom. That He did not mean literal swords is plain from His\nanswer to the Apostles, who produced the formidable armament of two.\n\n'It is enough.' A couple are plenty to fight the Roman Empire with.\nYes, two too many, as was soon seen. The expression is plainly an\nintensely energetic metaphor, taking line with purse and scrip. The\nplain meaning of the whole is that we are called on to provide\nnecessary means of provision and defence, which He will bless. The\nonly sword permitted to His followers is the sword of the Spirit.\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S IDEAL OF A MONARCH\n[Footnote: Preached on the occasion of the death of Queen Victoria.]\n\n\n    'And He said unto them, The kings of the Gentiles\n    exercise lordship over them; and they that exercise\n    authority upon them are called benefactors. 26. But ye\n    shall not be so: but he that is greatest among you,\n    let him be as the younger; and he that is chief, as he\n    that doth serve.'--LUKE xxii. 25-26.\n\nThere have been sovereigns of England whose death was a relief. There\nhave been others who were mourned with a certain tepid and decorous\nregret. But there has never been one on whose bier have been heaped\nsuch fragrant wreaths of universal love and sorrow as have been laid\nupon hers whom we have not yet learned to call by another name than\nthat which has been musical for all these years--the Queen. Why has\nher people's love thus compassed her? Surely, chiefly because they\nfelt and saw that Christ's ideal of rule, as stated in these words\nof our text, was her ideal, which she had gone far to realise. Here\nis the secret of her hold upon her people. Here is the reason why,\nfrom almost all the world, tributes have come, and as has been well\nsaid, 'They that loved not England loved her.'\n\nNow it would be impossible for me to speak words remote from the\nthought that has been filling the nation's mind in these days. I can\nadd nothing to the many eloquent and just appreciations to which we\nhave listened in this past week, but I can draw your attention to\nthe underlying secret which moulded and shaped that life. And it\nbecomes the pulpit to do so. We Christians ought to infuse a\nChristian element into everything. We should 'not sorrow as others,'\nnor should we admire as others. We all unite in praising her, but\neulogiums which ignore the ground of the virtues which they extol\nare superficial and misleading. I ask you to turn to the revelation\nof the secret of the nation's love and sorrow suggested by the words\nof my text.\n\nChrist sets forth, in two sharply contrasted pictures, the world's\nideal of a king and His ideal. The upper room was a strange place,\nand the eve of Calvary was a still stranger time, for disciples to\nsquabble about pre-eminence. The Master was absorbed in the thought\nof His Cross, the servants were quarrelling about their places in\nHis Kingdom. Perhaps it was the foot-washing that brought about the\nunseemly strife that arose among them, each desiring to hand on the\nmenial office to another. Jesus Christ did it Himself; and to that,\nperhaps, refer the touching words which Luke gives as following the\ntext; 'I am among you as he that serveth,' with the towel round His\nloins, and the basin in His hand.\n\nThe world's ideal of a King.\n\nNow, the one picture which He draws for us here, the world's ideal\nof a king, is the portrait familiar enough to all who know anything\nabout that ancient order of society, of tyrants and despots, in\nAssyria, Babylonia. Pharaohs and all the little kings round about\nJudaea; the vile old Herod and his equally vile brood, were recent\nor living examples of what the Master said when He sketched 'the\nkings of the Gentiles,' They 'lord it over them.' Arrogant\nsuperiority, imperious masterfulness, irresponsible wills, caprices\nungoverned, an absolute oblivion of duties, no thought of\nresponsibilities--these were the features of that ancient type of\nmonarch: and which, in spite of all constitutional hedges and\nlimitations, there is abundant room for the repetition of, even in\nso-called Christian countries.\n\nAnd then, side by side with that, comes another characteristic:\n'They that exercise authority upon them are called \"benefactors.\"'\nThey demand titles which shall credit them with virtues that they\nnever try to possess, and live in a region filled with the fumes\nfrom a thousand venal censers of a flattery which intoxicates and\nmakes giddy. A king in Egypt, very near our Lord's time, had borne\nthe title 'benefactor,' the very word that is employed here; even as\nmany a most ungracious sovereign has been called 'Your Most Gracious\nMajesty.'\n\nThe position tempts to such a type. And although the world has\noutgrown it, yet, as I have said, there is ample room for the\nrecurrence to the old and obsolete form, unless a mightier hindrance\nthan human nature knows, come in to prevent it. An ancient prophet\nlamented over the shepherds of Israel 'that do feed themselves,' and\nindignantly asked, 'should not the shepherds feed the sheep?' He\nmeant precisely the same contrast which is drawn out at length in\nthese two pictures that we have before us now.\n\nThe Christian conception.\n\n'Ye shall not be so.' The Christian conception is in sharp contrast\nto, and the Christian realisation of the conception, should be the\nabsolute opposite of that type to which I have already referred. 'He\nthat is greatest among you, let him be as the younger'; that\nsuggests modesty and meekness of demeanour in bearing the loftiest\noffice. 'And he that is chief as he that doth serve'; that expresses\nan activity, not self-regarding and self-centred, but ever used for\nothers. The simple words of Jesus Christ are the noblest expression\nof, and, as I believe, have been the mightiest impulse in producing,\nthe modern recognition which, thank God! is becoming more and more\npronounced every day amongst us, that power means duty, that\nelevation means the obligation to stoop, that true authority\nexpresses itself in service. We see that conviction growing in all\nclasses in England. Those who are lifted high are learning to-day,\nas they never learned before, the responsibilities and obligations\nof their position. And those who are low are beginning to apply the\nprinciple as they never did before, and to test the worthiness of\nthe lofty, highly-endowed, wealthy, and noble, by their discharge of\nthe obligations of their position. And although it anticipates what\nI have to say subsequently, I cannot but ask here, who shall say how\nthe Queen's example of authority becoming service has steadied the\nEmpire, and made a peaceful transition from the old type of\nauthority to the new, a possibility? Although not directly stated in\nmy text, there is implied in it another thought, namely, that whilst\npower obliges to service, service brings power. He that uses his\ninfluence, his authority, his capacities, his possessions, not for\nhimself, but for his brothers, will find that by the service he has\ngarnered in a harvest of authority, and power of command which\nnothing else can ever give.\n\nChrist's ideal of a monarch.\n\nAnd now I may turn, without passing beyond the bounds of the pulpit\non such an occasion as the present, to look at the great illustration\nof the Christian ideal which the royal life now closed has given. I\nventure to say that, without exaggeration, and without irreverence,\nour Queen might have taken for her own the declaration of our Lord\nHimself on this occasion, 'I am among you as one that serveth.' She\nserved her people by the diligent discharge of the duties that were\nlaid upon her. During a strenuous reign of sixty-three years, she\nleft no arrears, nothing neglected, nothing postponed, nothing undone.\nIn sorrow as in joy, when life was young, and the love of husband and\nfamily joys were new, as when husband and children were taken away,\nand she was an old woman, lonelier because of her throne, she laboured\nas 'ever in the great Taskmaster's eye.' That was serving her nation\nby the will of God. She served her people by that swift, sincere\nsympathy which claimed a share alike in great national and in small\nprivate sorrows. Was there some shipwreck or some storm, that widowed\nhumble fisherfolk in their villages? The Queen's sympathy was the\nfirst to reach them. Were the blinds drawn down in some colliery\nvillage because of an explosion? The Queen's message was there to\nbring a gleam of light into darkened homes. Did some great name in\nliterature or science pass away? Who but she was first to recognise\nthe loss, to speak gracious words of appreciation? Did some poor\nshepherd die, in the strath where she made her Highland home? The\nwidowed Queen was beside the widowed peasant, to share and to solace.\nKnowing sorrow herself only too well, she had learned to run to the\nhelp of the wretched. Dowered doubly with a woman's gift of sympathy,\nshe had not let the altitude of a throne freeze its flow.\n\nShe served her people yet more by letting them feel that she took\nthem into her confidence, spreading before them in the days of her\nwidowhood the cherished records that her happy pen had written in\nthe vanished days of her wifehood, opening her heart to us in mute\npetition that we might give our hearts to her. She served her people\nby the simplicity of her tastes and habits in these days of\nsenseless luxury, and fierce, sensuous excitement of living. She\nserved her people by the purity of her life, and so far as she could\nby putting a barrier around her Court, across which nothing that was\nfoul could pass. 'He that worketh iniquity shall not tarry in my\nhouse,' said an ancient king on taking his throne. And our Queen, to\nthe utmost of her power, said the same; and frowned down--stern for\nonce in a righteous cause--impurity in high places. Una had her\nlion, and this protest of a woman's delicacy against the vices of\nmodern society is not the least of the services for which we have to\nthank her.\n\nLet me remind you that all this patient self-surrender had its root\nin Christian faith. She had taken her Lord for her example because\nher faith had knit her to Him as her Saviour.\n\nTherefore she, as no other English sovereign, conquered the heart of\nthe nation, and was best loved by the best men and women. Never was\nthere a more striking confirmation of the truth that whoever in any\nregion reigns to serve will serve to reign.\n\nAnd now, before I close, let me remind you that the principles which\nI have been trying to express grip us in our several spheres, quite\nas tightly as they do those who may be more largely endowed, or more\nloftily placed than ourselves. There is no ideal for a Christian\nmonarch which is not the ideal also for a Christian peasant. That\nwhich is the duty of the highest is no less the duty of the lowest.\nFor us all it remains true that what we have we are bound to use,\nnot for ourselves, but as recognising both our stewardship to God\nand the solidarity of humanity; to use for Him, that is to say, for\nmen. This is the secret of all high, noble, blessed life for\nevermore.\n\nAnd, brethren, whilst I for one heartily rejoice in the growing\nconsciousness of responsibility which is being diffused through all\nranks of society today, and, bless God, for one impulse to that\nrecognition which, as I believe, came from the life now peacefully\nclosed, I shall be no doubt charged by some of you with old-fashioned\nnarrowness if I reiterate my own earnest conviction that we can rely\non nothing to bring about a thoroughgoing, a widely-diffused, and a\npermanent altruism--to use the modern word--except the force that\ncomes from the motive which Jesus Christ Himself adduced, in this very\nconversation, when He said, 'I am among you as he that serveth.' There\nis our example, aye! and more than our example, lodged in Him, and\navailable for us, by our simple faith in Him. In love that seeks to\ncopy, lies the only power that will cast out self, that 'anarch old,'\nfrom his usurped seat in our hearts, and will throne Jesus Christ\nthere. It needs a mighty lever to heave a planet from its orbit, and\nto set it circling round another sun; and there is nothing that will\ndeliver any man, in any rank of life, from the dominion of self,\nexcept submission to the dominion of Him who, because He died to\nserve, deserves, and has won, the supreme right of authority and\ndominion over human life.\n\nTo use anything for self is to miss its highest goodness, and to mar\nourselves. To use anything for Christ and our brethren is to find\nits sweetest sweetness, and to bless ourselves to the very\nuttermost. Self-absorption is self-destruction; self-surrender is\nself-acquisition.\n\nIf we can truly say, 'I am among you as he that serveth,' if all our\npossessions suggest to us obligations and all our powers impose on\nus duties: then be we prince or peasant, rich or poor, entrusted\nwith many talents or with but one, we shall make the best of life\nhere, and pass to higher authority, which is nobler service\nhereafter. Be the servant of all, and all are yours; serve Christ,\nand possess yourselves--these are the lessons from that royal life\nof service. May we learn them! May the King walk in his mother's\nsteps and hearken to 'the oracle which his mother taught him!\n\n\n\n\nTHE LONELY CHRIST\n\n\n    'Ye are they which have continued with Me in My\n    temptations'--LUKE xxii 28.\n\nWe wonder at the disciples when we read of the unseemly strife for\nprecedence which jars on the tender solemnities of the Last Supper.\nWe think them strangely unsympathetic and selfish; and so they were.\nBut do not let us be too hard on them, nor forget that there was a\nvery natural reason for the close connection which is found in the\ngospels between our Lord's announcements of His sufferings and this\neager dispute as to who should be the greatest in the kingdom. They\ndimly understood what He meant, but they did understand this much,\nthat His 'sufferings' were immediately to precede His 'glory'--and\nso it is not, after all, to be so much wondered at if the apparent\napproach of these made the settlement of their places in the\nimpending kingdom seem to them a very pressing question. We should\nprobably have thought so too, if we had been among them.\n\nPerhaps, too, the immediate occasion of this strife who should be\naccounted the greatest, which drew from Christ the words of our text,\nmay have been the unwillingness of each to injure his possible claim\nto pre-eminence by doing the servant's tasks at the modest meal. May\nwe not suppose that the basin and the towel were refused by one after\nanother, with muttered words growing louder and angrier: 'It is not\nmy place,' says Peter; 'you, Andrew, take it--and so from hand to\nhand it goes, till the Master ends the strife and takes it Himself to\nwash their feet. Then, when He had sat down again, He may have spoken\nthe words of which our text is part--in which He tells the wrangling\ndisciples what is the true law of honour in His kingdom, namely,\n_service_, and points to Himself as the great example. With what\nemphasis the pathetic incident of the foot-washing invests the clause\nbefore our text: 'I am among you as he that serveth.' On that\ndisclosure of the true law of pre-eminence in His kingdom there\nfollows in this and following verses the assurance, that, unseemly as\ntheir strife, there was reward for them, and places of dignity there,\nbecause in all their selfishness and infirmity, they had still clung\nto their Master.\n\nThis being the original purpose of these words, I venture to use\nthem for another. They give us, if I mistake not, a wonderful\nglimpse into the heart of Christ, and a most pathetic revelation of\nHis thoughts and experiences, all the more precious because it is\nquite incidental and, we may say, unconscious.\n\nI. See then, here, the tempted Christ.\n\nIn one sense, our Lord is His own perpetual theme. He is ever\nspeaking of Himself, inasmuch as He is ever presenting what He is to\nus, and what He claims of us. In another sense, He scarcely ever\nspeaks of Himself, inasmuch as deep silence, for the most part, lies\nover His own inward experiences. How precious, therefore, and how\nprofoundly significant is that word here--'in My temptations'! So He\nsummed up all His life. To feel the full force of the expression, it\nshould be remembered that the temptation in the wilderness was past\nbefore His first disciple attached himself to Him, and that the\nconflict in Gethsemane had not yet come when these words were\nspoken. The period to which they refer, therefore, lies altogether\nwithin these limits, including neither. After the former, 'Satan,'\nwe read, 'departed from Him for a season.' Before the latter, we\nread, 'the prince of this world cometh.' The space between, of which\npeople are so apt to think as free from temptation, is the time of\nwhich our Lord is speaking now. The time when His followers\n'companied with Him' is to His consciousness the time of His\n'temptations.'\n\nThat is not the point of view from which the Gospel narratives\npresent it, for the plain reason that they are not autobiographies,\nand that Jesus said little about the continuous assaults to which He\nwas exposed. It is not the point of view from which we often think\nof it. We are too apt to conceive of Christ's temptations as all\ngathered together--curdled and clotted, as it were, at the two ends\nof His life, leaving the space between free. But we cannot\nunderstand the meaning of that life, nor feel aright the love and\nhelp that breathe from it, unless we think of it as a field of\ncontinual and diversified temptations.\n\nHow remarkable is the choice of the expression! To Christ, His life,\nlooking back on it, does not so much present itself in the aspect of\nsorrow, difficulty or pain, as in that of temptation. He looked upon\nall outward things mainly with regard to their power to help or to\nhinder His life's work. So for us, sorrow or joy should matter\ncomparatively little. The evil in the evil should be felt to be sin,\nand the true cross and burden of life should be to us, as to our\nMaster, the appeals it makes to us to abandon our tasks, and fling\naway our filial dependence and submission.\n\nThis is not the place to plunge into the thorny questions which\nsurround the thought of the tempted Christ. However these may be\nsolved, the great fact remains, that His temptations were most real\nand unceasing. It was no sham fight which He fought. The story of\nthe wilderness is the story of a most real conflict; and that\nconflict is waged all through His life. True, the traces of it are\nfew. The battle was fought on both sides in grim silence, as\nsometimes men wage a mortal struggle without a sound. But if there\nwere no other witness of the sore conflict, the Victor's shout at\nthe close would be enough. His last words, 'I have overcome the\nworld,' sound the note of triumph, and tell how sharp had been the\nstrife. So long and hard had it been that He cannot forget it even\nin heaven, and from the throne holds forth to all the churches the\nhope of overcoming, 'even as I also overcame.' As on some\nbattlefield whence all traces of the agony and fury have passed\naway, and harvests wave, and larks sing where blood ran and men\ngroaned their lives out, some grey stone raised by the victors\nremains, and only the trophy tells of the forgotten fight, so that\nmonumental word, 'I have overcome' stands to all ages as the record\nof the silent, life-long conflict.\n\nIt is not for us to know how the sinless Christ was tempted. There\nare depths beyond our reach. This we can understand, that a sinless\nmanhood is not above the reach of temptation; and this besides,\nthat, to such a nature, the temptations must be suggested from\nwithout, not presented from within. The desire for food is simply a\nphysical craving, but another personality than His own uses it to\nincite the Son to abandon dependence for His physical life on God.\nThe trust in God's protection is holy and good, and it may be truest\nwisdom and piety to incur danger in dependence on it, when God's\nservice calls, but a mocking voice without suggests, under the cloak\nof it, a needless rushing into peril at no call of conscience, and\nfor no end of mercy, which is not religion but self-will. The desire\nto have the world for His own lay in Christ's deepest heart, but the\nenemy of Christ and man, who thought the world his already, used it\nas giving occasion to suggest a smoother and shorter road to win all\nmen unto Him than the 'Via Dolorosa' of the Cross. So the sinless\nChrist was tempted at the beginning, and so the sinless Christ was\ntempted, in various forms of these first temptations, throughout His\nlife. The path which He had to tread was ever before Him, the shadow\nof the Cross was flung along His road from the first. The pain and\nsorrow, the shame and spitting, the contradiction of sinners against\nHimself, the easier path which needed but a wish to become His, the\nshrinking of flesh--all these made their appeal to Him, and every\nstep of the path which He trod for us was trodden by the power of a\nfresh consecration of Himself to His task and a fresh victory over\ntemptation.\n\nLet us not seek to analyse. Let us be content to worship, as we\nlook, Let us think of the tempted Christ, that our conceptions of\nHis sinlessness may be increased. His was no untried and cloistered\nvirtue, pure because never brought into contact with seducing evil,\nbut a militant and victorious goodness, that was able to withstand\nin the evil day. Let us think of the tempted Christ that our\nthankful thoughts of what He bore for us may be warmer and more\nadequate, as we stand afar off and look on at the mystery of His\nbattle with our enemies and His. Let us think of the tempted Christ\nto make the lighter burden of our cross, and our less terrible\nconflict easier to bear and to wage. So will He 'continue with\n_us_ in _our_ temptations,' and patience and victory flow to us from\nHim.\n\nII. See here the lonely Christ.\n\nThere is no aspect of our Lord's life more pathetic than that of His\nprofound loneliness. I suppose the most utterly solitary man that\never lived was Jesus Christ. If we think of the facts of His life,\nwe see how His nearest kindred stood aloof from Him, how 'there were\nnone to praise, and very few to love'; and how, even in the small\ncompany of His friends, there was absolutely none who either\nunderstood Him or sympathised with Him. We hear a great deal about\nthe solitude in which men of genius live, and how all great souls\nare necessarily lonely. That is true, and that solitude of great men\nis one of the compensations which run through all life, and make the\nlot of the many little, more enviable than that of the few great.\n'The little hills rejoice together on every side,' but far above\ntheir smiling companionships, the Alpine peak lifts itself into the\ncold air, and though it be 'visited all night by troops of stars,'\nit is lonely amid the silence and the snow. Talk of the solitude of\npure character amid evil, like Lot in Sodom, or of the loneliness of\nuncomprehended aims and unshared thoughts--who ever experienced that\nas keenly as Christ did? That perfect purity must needs have been\nhurt by the sin of men as none else have ever been. That loving\nheart yearning for the solace of an answering heart must needs have\nfelt a sharper pang of unrequited love than ever pained another.\nThat spirit to which the things that are seen were shadows, and the\nFather and the Father's house the ever-present, only realities\nmust have felt itself parted from the men whose portion was in this\nlife, by a gulf broader than ever opened between any other two souls\nthat shared together human life.\n\nThe more pure and lofty a nature, the more keen its sensitiveness,\nthe more exquisite its delights, and the sharper its pains. The more\nloving and unselfish a heart, the more its longing for companionship:\nand the more its aching in loneliness.\n\nVery significant and pathetic are many points in the Gospel story\nbearing on this matter. The very choice of the Twelve had for its\nfirst purpose, 'that they should be with Him,' as one of the\nEvangelists tells us. We know how constantly He took the three who\nwere nearest to Him along with Him, and that surely not merely that\nthey might be 'eyewitnesses of His majesty' on the holy mount, or of\nHis agony in Gethsemane, but as having a real gladness and strength\neven in their companionship amid the mystery of glory as amid the\npower of darkness. We read of His being alone but twice in all the\ngospels, and both times for prayer. And surely the dullest ear can\nhear a note of pain in that prophetic word: 'The hour cometh that ye\nshall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave Me alone';\nwhile every heart must feel the pitiful pathos of the plea, 'Tarry\nye here, and watch with Me.' Even in that supreme hour, He longs for\nhuman companionship, however uncomprehending, and stretches out His\nhands in the great darkness, to feel the touch of a hand of flesh\nand blood--and, alas, for poor feeble love!--He gropes for it in\nvain. Surely that horror of utter solitude is one of the elements of\nHis passion grave and sorrowful enough to be named by the side of\nthe other bitterness poured into that cup, even as it was pain\nenough to form a substantive feature of the great prophetic picture:\n'I looked for some to take pity, but there was none; and for\ncomforters, but I found none.'\n\nSo here, a deep pain in His loneliness is implied in these words of\nour text which put the disciples' participation in the glories of\nHis throne as the issue of their loyal continuance with Him in the\nconflict of earth. These, and these only, had been by His side, and\nso much does He care for their companionship, that therefore they\nshall share His dominion.\n\nThat lonely Christ sympathises with all solitary hearts. If ever we\nfeel ourselves misunderstood and thrown back upon ourselves; if ever\nour hearts' burden of love is rejected; if our outward lives be\nlonely and earth yields nothing to stay our longing for companionship;\nif our hearts have been filled with dear ones and are now empty or\nfilled only with tears, let us think of Him and say, 'Yet I am not\nalone.' He lived alone, alone He died, that no heart might ever be\nsolitary any more. 'Could ye not watch with Me?' was His gentle rebuke\nin Gethsemane. 'Lo, _I_ am with _you_ always,' is His mighty\npromise from the throne. In every step of life we may have Him for\na companion, a friend closer than all others, nearer us than our very\nselves, if we may so say--and in the valley of the shadow of death we\nneed fear no evil, for He will be with us.\n\nIII. See here the grateful Christ.\n\nI almost hesitate to use the word, but there seems a distinct ring\nof thanks in the expression, and in the connection. And we need not\nwonder at that, if we rightly understand it. There is nothing in it\ninconsistent with our Lord's character and relations to His\ndisciples. Do you remember another instance in which one seems to\nhear the same tone, namely, in the marked warmth with which He\nacknowledges the beautiful service of Mary in breaking the fragrant\ncasket of nard upon His head?\n\nAll true love is glad when it is met, glad to give, and glad to\nreceive. Was it not a joy to Jesus to be waited on by the\nministering women? Would He not thank them because they served Him\nfor love? I trow, yes. And if any one stumbles at the word\n'grateful' as applied to Him, we do not care about the word so long\nas it is seen that His heart was gladdened by loving friends, and\nthat He recognised in their society a ministry of love.\n\nNotice, too, the loving estimate of what these disciples had done.\nTheir companionship had been imperfect enough at the best. They had\ngiven Him but blind affection, dashed with much selfishness. In an\nhour or two they would all have forsaken Him and fled. He knew all\nthat was lacking in them, and the cowardly abandonment which was so\nnear. But He has not a word to say of all this. He does not count\njealously the flaws in our work, or reject it because it is\nincomplete. So here is the great truth clearly set forth, that\nwhere there is a loving heart, there is acceptable service. It is\npossible that our poor, imperfect deeds shall be an odour of a sweet\nsmell, acceptable, well-pleasing  to Him. Which of us that is a\nfather is not glad at his children's gifts, even though they be\npurchased with his own money, and be of little use? They mean love,\nso they are precious. And Christ, in like manner, gladly accepts\nwhat we bring, even though it be love chilled by selfishness, and\nfaith broken by doubt,--submission crossed by self-will. The living\nheart of the disciples' acceptable service was their love, far less\nintelligent and entire than ours may be. They were joined to their\nLord, though with but partial sympathy and knowledge, in His\ntemptations. It is possible for us to be joined to Jesus Christ more\nclosely and more truly than they were during His earthly life. Union\nwith Him here is union with Him hereafter. If we abide in Him amid\nthe shows and shadows of earth, He will continue with us in our\ntemptations, and so the fellowships begun on earth will be perfected\nin heaven, 'if so be that we suffer with Him, that we may also be\nglorified together.'\n\n\n\n\nA GREAT FALL AND A GREAT RECOVERY\n\n\n    'But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not;\n    and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.'\n    --Luke xxii. 32.\n\nOur Lord has just been speaking words of large and cordial praise of\nthe steadfastness with which His friends had continued with Him in\nHis temptations, and it is the very contrast between that\ncontinuance and the prevision of the cowardly desertion of the\nApostle which occasioned the abrupt transition to this solemn appeal\nto him, which indicates how the forecast pained Christ's heart. He\ndoes not let the foresight of Peter's desertion chill His praise of\nPeter's past faithfulness as one of the Twelve. He does not let the\nremembrance of Peter's faithfulness modify His rebuke for Peter's\nintended and future desertion. He speaks to him, with significant\nand emphatic reiteration of the old name of Simon that suggests\nweakness, unsanctified and unhelped: 'Simon, Simon, Satan hath\ndesired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat.' _There_ is\na glimpse given, a corner of the curtain being lifted, into a dim\nregion in which faith should not refuse to discern so much light as\nChrist has given, because superstition has so often fancied that it\nsaw what it only dreamed. But passing from that, the words before us\nseem to me to suggest a threefold thought of the Intercessor for\ntempted souls; of the consequent re-illumination of eclipsed faith;\nand of the larger service for which the discipline of fall and\nrecovery fits him who falls. Let me say a word or two about each of\nthese thoughts.\n\nI. We have the Intercessor for tempted souls.\n\nNotice that majestic 'but' with which my text begins, 'Satan hath\ndesired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat, _but_ I\nhave prayed for thee.' He presents Himself, then, as the Antagonist,\nthe confident and victorious Antagonist, of whatsoever mysterious,\nmalignant might may lie beyond the confines of sense, and He says,\n'My prayer puts the hook in leviathan's nose, and the malevolent\ndesire to sift, in order that not the chaff but the wheat may\ndisappear, comes all to nothing by the side of My prayer.'\n\nNote the discrimination of the intercession. He 'hath desired to\nhave you'--that is plural; 'I have prayed for thee'--that is\nsingular. The man that was in the greatest danger was the man\nnearest to Christ's heart, and chiefly the object of Christ's\nintercession. So it is always--the tenderest of His words, the\nsweetest of His consolations, the strongest of His succours, the\nmost pleading and urgent of His petitions, the mightiest gifts of\nHis grace, are given to the weakest, the neediest, the men and women\nin most sorrow and stress and peril, and they who want Him most\nalways have Him nearest. The thicker the darkness, the brighter His\nlight; the drearier our lives, the richer His presence; the more\nsolitary we are, the larger the gifts of His companionship. Our\nneed is the measure of His prayer. 'Satan hath desired to have you,\nbut thou, Peter, dost stand in the very focus of the danger, and so\non _thee_ are focussed, too, the rays of My love and care.' Be\nsure, dear friends, that it is always so for us, and that when you\nwant Christ most, Christ is most to you.\n\nThen, I need not touch at any length upon that great subject on which\nnone of us can speak adequately or with full comprehension--viz. our\nLord as the Intercessor for us in all our weakness and need. We\nbelieve in His continual manhood, we believe that He prayed upon\nearth, we believe that He prays in heaven. His prayer is no mere\nutterance of words: it is the presentation of a fact, the bringing\never before the Infinite Divine Mind, as it were, of His great work\nof sacrifice, as the condition which determines, and the channel\nthrough which flows, the gift of sustaining grace from God Himself.\nAnd so we may be sure that whensoever there come to any of us trials,\ndifficulties, conflicts, temptations, they are known to our Brother in\nthe skies, and the stormier the gales that threaten us, the closer He\nwraps His protection round us. We have an Advocate and an Intercessor\nbefore the Throne; His prayer is always heard. Oh, brethren! how\ndifferent our endurance would be, if we vividly believed that Christ\nwas praying for us! How it would take the sting out of sorrow, and\nblunt the edge of temptation, if we realised that! O for a faith that\nshall rend the heavens, and rise above the things seen and temporal,\nand behold the eternal order of the universe, the central Throne, and\nat the right hand of God, the Intercessor for all who love and trust\nHim!\n\nII. Notice again the consequent re-illumination of eclipsed faith.\n\n'I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not.' Did it fail? If\nwe look only at Peter's denial, we must answer, Yes. If we look at\nthe whole of the future life of the Apostle, we answer, No. Eclipse\nis not extinction; the momentary untruthfulness to one's deepest\nconvictions is not the annihilation of these convictions. Christ's\nprayer is never vain, and Christ's prayer was answered just because\nPeter, though he fell, did not lie in the mud, but staggered to his\nfeet again, and with sore weeping and many an agony of shame,\nstruggled onward, with unconquerable hope, in the path from which,\nfor a moment, he strayed. Better one great outburst like his, the\nnature of which there is no possibility of mistaking, than the going\non, as so many professing Christians do, from year to year, walking\nin a vain show of godliness, and fancying themselves to be\ndisciples, when all the while they are recreants and apostates.\nThere is more chance of the recovery of a good man that has fallen\ninto some sin, 'gross as a mountain, open, palpable,' than there is\nof the recovery of those who let their religion trickle out of them\nin drops, and never know that their veins are empty until the heart\nceases to beat at all.\n\nHere, then, we have two large lessons from which we may take strength,\ntaught us by this darkening and re-illumination of an eclipsed faith.\nOne is that the sincerest love, the truest desire to follow Jesus,\nthe firmest faith, may be overborne, and the whole set of a life\ncontradicted for a time. Thank God, there is a vast difference between\nconduct which is inconsistent with being a Christian and conduct which\nis incompatible with being a Christian. It is dangerous, perhaps, to\napply the difference too liberally in judging ourselves; it is\nimperative to apply it always in judging our fellows. But if it be\ntrue that Peter meant, down to the very bottom of his heart, all that\nhe said when he said, 'I will lay down my life for Thee,' while yet\nwithin a few hours afterwards the sad prophecy of our Lord was\nfulfilled--'Thou shalt deny Me thrice!'--let us take the lesson, not,\nindeed, to abate our horror of the sin, but on the one hand to cut\nthe comb of our own self-confidence, and on the other hand to judge\nwith all charity and tenderness the faults of our brethren. 'Be not\nhigh-minded, but fear,' and when we look into the black gulf into\nwhich Peter fell bodily, let us cry, 'Hold Thou me up and I shall be\nsafe.'\n\nThe other lesson is that the deepest fall may be recovered. Our Lord in\nthe words of our text does not definitely prophesy what He subsequently\ndeclares in plain terms, the fall of Peter, but He implies it when He\nsays, 'when thou art converted'--or, as the Revised Version reads it\nmuch more accurately, 'when once thou hast turned again strengthen\nthy brethren.' Then, the Apostle's face had been turned the wrong way\nfor a time, and he needed to turn right-about-face in order to renew\nthe old direction of his life. He came back for two reasons--one because\nChrist prayed for him, and the other because he 'turned himself.' For\nthe only way back is through the valley of weeping and the dark lane\nof penitence; and whosoever has denied with Peter, or at least grovelled\nwith Peter, or perhaps grovelled much more than Peter, 'denying the\nLord that bought him' by living as if He was not his Lord, will never\ncome back to the place that Peter again won for himself, but by the\nroad by which Peter went. 'The Lord turned and looked upon him,' and\nChrist's face, with love and sorrow and reproach in it, taught him his\nsin, and bowed his heart, 'and he went out and wept bitterly.'\n\nPeter and Judas both 'went out'; the one 'went out and hanged\nhimself,' because his conviction of his sin was unaccompanied with a\nfaith in his Master's love, and his repentance was only remorse; and\nthe other 'went out and wept bitterly,' and so came back with a\nclean heart. And on the Resurrection morning he was ready for the\nmessage: 'Go, tell His disciples, _and Peter_, He goeth before\nyou into Galilee.' And the Lord appeared to him, in that conversation,\nthe existence of which was known, though the particulars were unknown,\nto the rest; and when 'He appeared unto Cephas,' spoke his full\nforgiveness. There is the road back for all wanderers.\n\nIII. The last thought is, the larger service for which such an\nexperience will fit him who falls.\n\n'Strengthen thy brethren when once thou hast turned again.' I need\nnot remind you how nobly the Apostle fulfilled this commandment.\nSatan desired to have him, that he might sift him as wheat; but\nSatan's sifting was in order that he might get rid of the wheat and\nharvest the chaff. His malice worked indirectly the effect opposite\nto his purpose, and achieved the same result as Christ's winnowing\nseeks to accomplish--namely, it got rid of the chaff and kept the\nwheat. Peter's vanity was sifted out of him, his self-confidence was\nsifted out of him, his rash presumption was sifted out of him, his\nimpulsive readiness to blurt out the first thought that came into\nhis head was sifted out of him, and so his unreliableness and\nchangeableness were largely sifted out of him, and he became what\nChrist said he had in him the makings of being--'Cephas, a rock,'\nor, as the Apostle Paul, who was never unwilling to praise the\nothers, said, a man 'who looked like a pillar.' He 'strengthened his\nbrethren,' and to many generations the story of the Apostle who\ndenied the Lord he loved has ministered comfort. To how many tempted\nsouls, and souls that have yielded to temptation, and souls that,\nhaving yielded, are beginning to grope their way back again out of\nits vulgar delights and surfeiting sweetnesses, and find that there\nis a desert to be traversed before they can again reach the place\nwhere they stood before, has that story ministered hope, as it will\nminister to the very end! The bone that is broken is stronger, they\ntell us, at the point of junction, when it heals and grows again,\nthan it ever was before. And it may well be that a faith that has\nmade experience of falling and restoration has learned a depth of\nself-distrust, a firmness of confidence in Christ, a warmth of\ngrateful love which it would never otherwise have experienced.\n\nThe Apostle about whom we have been speaking seems to have carried\nin his mind and memory an abiding impression from that bitter\nexperience, and in his letter when he was an old man, and all that\npast was far away, he writes many words which sound like echoes and\nreminiscences of it. In the last chapter of his epistle, in which he\nspeaks of himself as a witness of the sufferings of Christ, there\nare numbers of verses which seem to point to what had happened in\nthe Upper Room. 'Ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder.'\nJesus Christ had then said, 'He that is the greater among you, let\nhim be as the younger.' Peter says, 'Be clothed with humility'; he\nremembers Christ wrapping a towel around Him, girding Himself, and\ntaking the basin. He says, 'God resisteth the proud,' and he\nremembers how proud he had been, with his boast: 'Though all should\n... yet will not I,' and how low he fell because he was 'fool'\nenough to 'trust in his own heart.' 'Be sober, be vigilant; because\nyour adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking\nwhom he may devour: whom resist, steadfast in the faith.' 'The God\nof all grace stablish, strengthen, settle you.' He thus strengthened\nhis brethren when he reminded them of the temptation to which he\nhimself had so shamefully succumbed, and when he referred them for\nall their strength to the source of it all, even God in Christ.\n\n\n\n\nGETHSEMANE\n\n\n    'And He came out, and went, as He was wont, to the\n    mount of Olives; and His disciples also followed Him.\n    40. And when He was at the place, He said unto them,\n    Pray that ye enter not into temptation.  41. And He\n    was withdrawn from them about a stone's cast, and\n    kneeled down, and prayed, 42. Saying, Father, If Thou\n    be willing, remove this cup from Me; nevertheless, not\n    My will, but Thine, be done. 43. And there appeared an\n    angel unto Him from heaven, strengthening Him. 44. And,\n    being in an agony, He prayed more earnestly: and His\n    sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down\n    to the ground. 45. And when He rose up from prayer,\n    and was come to His disciples, He found them sleeping\n    for sorrow. 46. And said unto them, Why sleep ye? rise\n    and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. 47. And while\n    He yet spake, beheld a multitude, and he that was\n    called Judas, one of the twelve, went before them, and\n    drew near unto Jesus to kiss Him. 48. But Jesus said\n    unto him, Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with a\n    kiss? 49. When they which were about Him saw what would\n    follow, they said unto Him, Lord, shall we smite with\n    the sword? 50. And one of them smote a servant of the\n    high priest, and cut off his right ear. 51. And Jesus\n    answered and said, Suffer ye thus far. And He touched\n    his ear, and healed him. 52. Then Jesus said unto the\n    chief priests, and captains of the temple, and the\n    elders, which were come to Him, Be ye come out, as\n    against a thief, with swords and staves? 53. When I\n    was daily with you in the temple, ye stretched forth\n    no hands against Me; but this is your hour, and the\n    power of darkness.'--Luke xxii. 39-53.\n\n'Put off thy shoes from off thy feet.' Cold analysis is out of place\nhere, where the deepest depth of a Saviour's sorrows is partly\ndisclosed, and we see Him bowing His head to the waves and billows\nthat went over Him, for our sakes. Luke's account is much condensed,\nbut contains some points peculiar to itself. It falls into two\nparts--the solemn scene of the agony, and the circumstances of the\narrest.\n\nI. We look with reverent awe and thankfulness at that soul-subduing\npicture of the agonising and submissive Christ which Luke briefly\ndraws. Think of the contrast between the joyous revelry of the\nfestival-keeping city and the sadness of the little company which\ncrossed the Kedron and passed beneath the shadow of the olive-trees\ninto the moonlit garden. Jesus needed companions there; but He needed\nsolitude still more. So He is 'parted from them'; but Luke alone\ntells us how short the distance was--'as it were a stone's throw,'\nand near enough for the disciples to see and hear something before\nthey slept.\n\nThat clinging to and separation from His humble friends gives a\nwonderful glimpse into Christ's desolation then. And how beautiful\nis His care for them, even at that supreme hour, which leads to the\ninjunction twice spoken, at the beginning and end of His own\nprayers, that they should pray, not for Him, but for themselves. He\nnever asks for men's prayers, but He does for their love. He thinks\nof His sufferings as temptation for the disciples, and for the\nmoment forgets His own burden, in pointing them the way to bear\ntheirs. Did self-oblivious love ever shine more gloriously in the\ndarkness of sorrow?\n\nLuke omits the threefold withdrawal and return, but notes three\nthings--the prayer, the angel appearance, and the physical effects\nof the agony. The essentials are all preserved in his account. The\nprayer is truly 'the Lord's prayer,' and the perfect pattern for\nours. Mark the grasp of God's fatherhood, which is at once appeal\nand submission. So should all prayer begin, with the thought, at all\nevents, whether with the word 'Father' or no. Mark the desire that\n'this cup' should pass. The expression shows how vividly the\nimpending sufferings were pictured before Christ's eye. The keenest\npains of anticipation, which make so large a part of so many\nsorrows, were felt by Him. He shrank from His sufferings. Did He\ntherefore falter in His desire and resolve to endure the Cross? A\nthousand times, no! His will never wavered, but maintained itself\nsupreme over the natural recoil of His human nature from pain and\ndeath. If He had not felt the Cross to be a dread, it had been no\nsacrifice. If He had allowed the dread to penetrate to His will, He\nhad been no Saviour. But now He goes before us in the path which all\nhave, in their degree, to travel, and accepts pain that He may do\nHis work.\n\nThat acceptance of the divine will is no mere 'If it must be so, let\nit be so,' much as that would have been. But He receives in His\nprayer the true answer--for His will completely coincides with the\nFather's, and 'mine' is 'thine.' Such conformity of our wills with\nGod's is the highest blessing of prayer and the true deliverance.\nThe cup accepted is sweet; and though flesh may shrink, the inner\nself consents, and in consenting to the pain, conquers it.\n\nLuke alone tells of the ministering angel; and, according to some\nauthorities, the forty-third and forty-fourth verses are spurious.\nBut, accepting them as genuine, what does the angelic appearance\nteach us? It suggests pathetically the utter physical prostration\nof Jesus. Sensuous religion has dwelt on that offensively, but let\nus not rush to the opposite extreme, and ignore it. It teaches us\nthat the manhood of Jesus needed the communication of divine help as\ntruly as we do. The difficulty of harmonising that truth with His\ndivine nature was probably the reason for the omission of this verse\nin some manuscripts. It teaches the true answer to His prayer, as so\noften to ours; namely, the strength to bear the load, not the\nremoval of it. It is remarkable that the renewal of the solemn\n'agony' and the intenser earnestness of prayer follow the\nstrengthening by the angel.\n\nIncreased strength increased the conflict of feeling, and the\nrenewed and intensified conflict increased the earnestness of the\nprayer. The calmness won was again disturbed, and a new recourse to\nthe source of it was needed. We stand reverently afar off, and ask,\nnot too curiously, what it is that falls so heavily to the ground,\nand shines red and wet in the moonlight. But the question\nirresistibly rises, Why all this agony of apprehension? If Jesus\nChrist was but facing death as it presents itself to all men, His\nshrinking is far beneath the temper in which many a man has fronted\nthe scaffold and the fire. We can scarcely save His character for\nadmiration, unless we see in the agony of Gethsemane something much\nmore than the shrinking from a violent death, and understand how\nthere the Lord made to meet on Him the iniquity of us all. If the\nburden that crushed Him thus was but the common load laid on all\nmen's shoulders, He shows unmanly terror. If it were the black mass\nof the world's sins, we can understand the agony, and rejoice to\nthink that our sins were there.\n\nII. The arrest. Three points are made prominent--the betrayer's\ntoken, the disciples' resistance, the reproof of the foes, and in\neach the centre of interest is our Lord's words. The sudden bursting\nin of the multitude is graphically represented. The tumult broke the\nstillness of the garden, but it brought deeper peace to Christ's\nheart; for while the anticipation agitated, the reality was met with\ncalmness. Blessed they who can unmoved front evil, the foresight of\nwhich shook their souls! Only they who pray as Jesus did beneath\nthe olives, can go out from their shadow, as He did, to meet the\nfoe.\n\nThe first of the three incidents of the arrest brings into strong\nprominence Christ's meek patience, dignity, calmness, and effort,\neven at that supreme moment, to rouse dormant conscience, and save\nthe traitor from himself. Judas probably had no intention by his\nkiss of anything but showing the mob their prisoner; but he must\nhave been far gone in insensibility before he could fix on such a\nsign. It was the token of friendship and discipleship, and no doubt\nwas customary among the disciples, though we never hear of any lips\ntouching Jesus but the penitent woman's, which were laid on His\nfeet, and the traitor's. The worst hypocrisy is that which is\nunconscious of its own baseness.\n\nEvery word of Christ's answer to the shameful kiss is a sharp spear,\nstruck with a calm and not resentful hand right into the hardened\nconscience. There is wistful tenderness and a remembrance of former\nconfidences in calling Him by name. The order of words in the\noriginal emphasises the kiss, as if Jesus had said, 'Is that the\nsign you have chosen? Could nothing else serve you? Are you so dead\nto all feeling that you can kiss and betray?' The Son of man flashes\non Judas, for the last time, the majesty and sacredness against\nwhich he was lifting his hand. 'Betrayest thou?' which comes last in\nthe Greek, seeks to startle by putting into plain words the guilt,\nand so to rend the veil of sophistications in which the traitor was\nhiding his deed from himself. Thus to the end Christ seeks to keep\nhim from ruin, and with meek patience resents not indignity, but\nwith majestic calmness sets before the miserable man the hideousness\nof his act. The patient Christ is the same now as then, and meets\nall our treason with pleading, which would fain teach us how black\nit is, not because He is angry, but because He would win us to turn\nfrom it. Alas that so often His remonstrances fall on hearts as\nwedded to their sin as was Judas's!\n\nThe rash resistance of the disciple is recorded chiefly for the sake\nof Christ's words and acts. The anonymous swordsman was Peter, and\nthe anonymous victim was Malchus, as John tells us. No doubt he had\nbrought one of the two swords from the upper room, and, in a sudden\nburst of anger and rashness, struck at the man nearest him, not\nconsidering the fatal consequences for them all that might follow.\nPeter could manage nets better than swords, and missed the head, in\nhis flurry and in the darkness, only managing to shear off a poor\nslave's ear. When the Church takes sword in hand, it usually shows\nthat it does not know how to wield it, and as often as not has\nstruck the wrong man. Christ tells Peter and us, in His word here,\nwhat His servants' true weapons are, and rebukes all armed\nresistance of evil. 'Suffer ye thus far' is a command to oppose\nviolence only by meek endurance, which wins in the long run, as\nsurely as the patient sunshine melts the thick ice, which is ice\nstill, when pounded with a hammer.\n\nIf 'thus far' as to His own seizure and crucifying was to be 'suffered,'\nwhere can the breaking-point of patience and non-resistance be fixed?\nSurely every other instance of violence and wrong lies far on this side\nof that one. The prisoner heals the wound. Wonderful testimony that not\ninability to deliver Himself, but willingness to be taken, gave Him\ninto the hands of His captors! Blessed proof that He lavishes benefits\non His foes, and that His delight is to heal all wounds and stanch\nevery bleeding heart!\n\nThe last incident here is Christ's piercing rebuke, addressed, not to\nthe poor, ignorant tools, but to the prime movers of the conspiracy,\nwho had come to gloat over its success. He asserts His own innocence,\nand hints at the preposterous inadequacy of 'swords and staves' to\ntake Him. He is no 'robber,' and their weapons are powerless, unless\nHe wills. He recalls His uninterrupted teaching in the Temple, as if\nto convict them of cowardice, and perchance to bring to remembrance\nHis words there. And then, with that same sublime and strange majesty\nof calm submission which marks all His last hours, He unveils to\nthese furious persecutors the true character of their deed. The\nsufferings of Jesus were the meeting-point of three worlds--earth,\nhell, and heaven. 'This is your hour.' But it was also Satan's hour,\nand it was Christ's 'hour,' and God's. Man's passions, inflamed from\nbeneath, were used to work out God's purpose; and the Cross is at\nonce the product of human unbelief, of devilish hate, and of divine\nmercy. His sufferings were 'the power of darkness.'\n\nMark in that expression Christ's consciousness that He is the light,\nand enmity to Him darkness. Mark, too, His meek submission, as\nbowing His head to let the black flood flow over Him. Note that\nChrist brands enmity to Him as the high-water mark of sin, the\ncrucial instance of man's darkness, the worst thing ever done. Mark\nthe assurance that animated Him, that the eclipse was but for an\n'hour.' The victory of the darkness was brief, and it led to the\neternal triumph of the Light. By dying He is the death of death.\nThis Jonah inflicts deadly wounds on the monster in whose maw He lay\nfor three days. The power of darkness was shivered to atoms in the\nmoment of its proudest triumph, like a wave which is beaten into\nspray as it rises in a towering crest and flings itself against the\nrock.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CROSS THE VICTORY AND DEFEAT OF DARKNESS\n\n\n    'This is your hour, and the power of darkness.'\n    --Luke xxii. 53.\n\nThe darkness was the right time for so dark a deed. The surface\nmeaning of these pathetic and far-reaching words of our Lord's in\nthe garden to His captors is to point the correspondence between the\nseason and the act. As He has just said, 'He had been daily with\nthem in the Temple,' but in the blaze of the noontide they laid no\nhands upon Him. They found a congenial hour in the midnight. But the\nwords go a great deal deeper than allusive symbolism of that sort.\nLooking at them as giving us a little glimpse into the thoughts and\nfeelings of Christ, we can scarcely help tracing in them the very\nclear consciousness that He was the Light, and that all antagonism\nto Him was the work of darkness in an eminent and especial sense.\nBut whilst this unobscured consciousness, which no mere man could\nventure so unqualifiedly to assert, is manifest in the words, there\nis also in them, to my ear, a tone of majestic resignation, as if He\nsaid, 'There! do your worst!' and bowed His head, as a man might do,\nstanding breast high in the sea, that the wave might roll over Him.\nAnd there is in them, too, a shrinking as of horror from the surging\nupon Him of the black tide to which He bows His head.\n\nBut whilst thus pathetic and significant in their indication of the\nfeelings of our Lord, they have a wider and a deeper meaning still,\nI think, if we ponder them; inasmuch as they open before us some\naspects of His sufferings and eminently of His Cross, which it\nbecomes us all to lay to heart. And it is to these that I desire to\nturn your attention for a few moments.\n\nI. I see in them, then, first, this great thought, that the Cross of\nJesus Christ is the centre and the meeting-point for the energies of\nthree worlds.\n\n'This is your hour.' Now our Lord habitually speaks of His\nsufferings, and of other points in His life, as being 'My hour,' by\nwhich, of course, He means the time appointed to Him by God for the\ndoing of an appointed work. And that idea is distinctly to be\nattached to the use of the word here. But, on the other hand, there\nis emphasis laid on '_your_,' and that hour is thereby designated as\na time in which they could do as they would. It was their opportunity,\nor, as we say in our colloquialism, now was their time when, unhindered,\nthey might carry into effect their purposes.\n\nSo there is given us the thought of His passion and death as being\nthe most eminent and awful instance of men being left unchecked to\nwork out whatsoever was in their evil hearts, and to carry into\neffect their blackest purposes.\n\nBut, on the other hand, there goes with the phrase the idea to which\nI have already referred; and 'this is their hour,' not merely in the\nsense that it was their opportunity, but also that it was the hour\nappointed by God and allotted them for their doing the thing which\ntheir unhindered evil passions impelled them to do. And so we are\nbrought face to face with the most eminent instance of that great\npuzzle that runs through all life--how God works out His lofty\ndesigns by means of responsible agents, 'making the wrath of men to\npraise Him,' and girding Himself with the remainder.\n\nNor is that all. For the next words of my text bring in a third set\nof powers as in operation. 'This is your hour' lets us see man\noverarched by the abyss of the heavens, 'and the power of darkness'\nlets us see the deep and awful forces that are working beneath and\nsurging upwards into humanity, and opens the subterranean volcanoes.\nI do not say that there is any reference here to a personal\nAntagonist of good, in whom these dark tendencies are focussed, but\nthere is a distinct reference to 'the darkness' as a whole, a kind\nof organic whole, which operates upon men. Even when they think\nthemselves to be freest, and are carrying out their own wicked\ndesigns, they are but the slaves of impulses that come straight from\nthe dark kingdom. If I may turn from the immediate purpose of my\nsermon for a moment, I pray you to consider that solemn aspect of\nour life, a film between two firmaments, like the earth with the\nwaters above and the waters beneath. On the one side it is open and\npervious to heavenly influences, and moulded by the overarching and\nsovereign will, and on the other side it is all honeycombed beneath\nwith, and open to, the uprisings of evil, straight from the\nbottomless pit.\n\nBut if we turn to the more immediate purpose of the words, think for\na moment of the solemn and wonderful aspect which the Cross of\nChrist assumes, thus contemplated. Three worlds focus their energies\nupon it--heaven, earth, hell. Looked at from one side it is all\nradiant and glorious, as the transcendent exhibition of the divine\nlove and sweetness and sacrifice and righteousness and tenderness.\nBut the sunshine that plays upon it shifts and passes, and looked at\nfrom another point of view it is swathed in blackness, as the most\nawful display of man's unbridled antagonism to the good. And looked\nat from yet another, it assumes a still more lurid aspect as the\nlast stroke which the kingdom of darkness attempted to strike in\ndefence of its ancient and solitary reign. So earth, heaven, hell,\nthe God that works through man's evil passions, and yet does not\nacquit them though He utilises them to a lofty issue; man that is\nevil and thinks himself free; and the kingdom of darkness that uses\nhim as its slave--all hare part in that cross, which is thus the\nresult of such diametrically opposite forces.\n\nThe divine government which reached its most beneficent ends through\nthe unbridled antagonism of sinful men, and made even the dark\ncounsels of the kingdom of darkness tributary to the diffusion of the\nlight, works ever in the same fashion. Antagonism and obedience both\nwork out its purposes. Let us learn to bow before that all-encompassing\nProvidence in whose great scheme both are included. Let us not confuse\nourselves by the attempt to make plain to our reason the harmony of the\ntwo certain facts--man's freedom and God's sovereignty. Enough for us\nto remember that the sin is none the less though the issue may coincide\nwith the divine purpose, for sin lies in the motive, which is ours, not\nin the unintended result, which is God's. Enough for us to realise the\ntremendous solemnity of the lives we live, with all sweet heavenly\ninfluences falling on them from above, and all sulphurous suggestions\nrising into them from the fires beneath, and to see to it that we keep\nour hearts open to the one, and fast closed against the other.\n\n'This is your hour'--a time in which you feel yourselves free, and\nyet are instruments in the hands of God, and also are tools in the\nclaws of evil.\n\nII. Still further, my text brings before us the thought that the\nCross is the high-water mark of man's sin.\n\n'This is the power of darkness'--the specimen instance of what it\nwould and can do. Strange to think that, amidst all the black\ncatalogue of evil deeds that have been done in this world from the\nbeginning, there is one deed which is the worst, and that it is this\none! Not that the doers were 'sinners above all men': for that is a\nquestion of knowledge and of motives, but that the deed in itself\nwas the worst thing that ever man did. Of course I take for granted\nthe belief that Jesus Christ is the Son of God; that He came from\nheaven, that He lived a life of perfect purity and beauty, and that\nHe died on the Cross as the Gospel tells us. And taking these things\nfor granted, is it not true that His rejection, His condemnation,\nand His death do throw the most awful and solemn light upon what\npoor humanity left to itself, and yielding to the suggestions and\nthe impulses of the kingdom of darkness, does when it comes in\ncontact with the Light?\n\nIt is the great crucial instance of the incapacity of the average\nman to behold spiritual beauty and lofty elevation of character.\nPeople lament over the blindness of embruted souls to natural\nbeauty, to art, to high thinking, and so on; but all these, tragic\nas they are, are nothing as compared with this stunning fact, that\nperfect righteousness and perfect tenderness and ideal beauty of\ncharacter walked about the world for thirty and three years, and\nthat all the wise and religious men who came across Him thought that\nthe best thing they could do was to crucify Him. So it has ever been\nfrom the days of Cain and Abel. As the Apostle John asks, 'Wherefore\nslew be him?' For a very good reason, 'Because his own works were\nevil, and his brother's righteous.' That is reason enough for\nkilling any prophets and righteous men. It was so in the past, and\nin modified forms it is so today. The plain fact is that humanity\nhas in it a depth of incapacity to behold, and of angry\nindisposition to admire, lofty and noble lives. The power of the\ndarkness to blind men is set forth once in the superlative degree\nthat we may all beware of it in the lower instances, by that fact,\nthe most tragical in the history of the world, 'the Light shineth in\nthe darkness, and the darkness apprehendeth it not.'\n\nAnd not only does that Cross mark the high-water mark of man's\nblindness, and of man's hatred to the lofty and the true and the good,\nbut it marks, too, the awful power that seems, by the very make of the\nworld, to be lodged on the side of evil and against good. The dice\nseem to be so terribly loaded. Virtue and beauty and truth and\ntenderness, and all that is noble and lofty and heart-appealing, have\nno chance against a mere piece of savage brutality. And that fact,\nwhich has been repeated over and over again from the beginning, and\nso largely makes the misery of mankind, reaches its very climax, and\nmost solemn and awful illustration, in the fact that a handful of\nruffians and a detachment of Roman soldiers were able to put an end\nto the life of God manifest in the flesh. If we have nothing more to\nsay about Jesus than that He lived upon earth and did works of goodness\nand of beauty for a few short years, and then died, and there an end,\nit seems to me that the story of the Death of Christ is the most\ndespairing page in the whole history of humanity, and that it\naccentuates and makes still more dreadful the dreadful old puzzle of\nhow it comes that, in a world with a God in it, evil seems to be so\nriotously preponderant and good seems to be ever trodden under foot.\nEither the Death of Christ, if He died and did not rise again, is the\nstrongest argument in the history of mankind for rank atheism, or\nelse it is true that He rose, the King of humanity, glorified and\nexalted by the vain attempts of His foes.\n\nAnd now notice that this high-water mark, as I have called it, or\nclimax of human sin, was reached through very common and ordinary\ntransgressions. Judas betrayed Christ because he had always felt\nuncomfortable with his earthly tendencies beside that pure spirit,\nand also because he wanted to jingle the thirty pieces of silver in\nhis pocket. The priests did Him to death because He claimed the\nMessiahship and to be the Son of God, and their formalism rose\nagainst Him, and their blindness to all spiritual elevation made\nthem hate Him. Pilate sent Him to the Cross because he was a coward,\nand thought that the life of a Jewish peasant was a small thing to\ngive in order to secure his position. And the mob howled at His\nheels, and wagged their heads as they passed by, oblivious of His\nmiracles and His benevolence, simply because of the vulgar hatred of\nanything that is lofty, and because they were so absorbed in\nmaterial things that they had no eyes for that radiant beauty. In\nthe whole list of these motives there is not a sin that you and I do\nnot commit, nor is there any one of them which may not be\nreproduced, and as a matter of fact, is reproduced, by hundreds and\nthousands in this professedly Christian land.\n\nOh, brethren! the actual murderers are not the worst criminals,\nthough their deed be the worst, considered in itself. Those Roman\nsoldiers who nailed His hands to the Cross, and went back to their\nbarracks that night, quite comfortable and unconscious that they had\nbeen doing anything beyond their routine military duty, were\ninnocent and white-handed compared with the men and women among us,\nwho, with the additional evidence of the Cross, and the empty grave,\nand the throne in the heavens, and the Christian Church, still stand\naloof and say, 'We see no beauty in Him that we should desire Him.'\nTake care lest your attitude to Jesus Christ bring the level of your\ncriminality close up to that high-water mark, or carry it even\nbeyond it, for it is possible to 'crucify the Son of God afresh,'\nand they who do so have the greater guilt.\n\nIII. Now, lastly, my text suggests that the temporary triumph of the\ndarkness is the eternal victory of the light.\n\n'_This_ is your hour'--not the next. 'This is your\n_hour_.' Sixty minutes tick, and it will be gone. When Christ\nwas beaten He was Conqueror, and as He looked upon His Cross He\nsaid, 'I have overcome the world.' The eclipse which hung over the\nlittle hill and the land of Palestine, during the long hours of that\nslowly passing day, ended before He died. And His death was but the\npassing for a brief moment of the shadow of death across the bright\nluminary which, when the shadow has passed, shines out and 'with new\nspangled beams, flames in the forehead of the morning sky.' The\ndarkness triumphed, and in its triumph it was overcome.\n\nHe, by dying, is the death of death. This Jonah inflicted a mortal\nwound on the loathly monster in whose maw He lay for three days. He,\nby bearing the penalty of sin, takes away the penalty of it for us\nall. He, in the quenching of the light of His life in the night of\ndeath, reveals God more than even He did in His life, and is never\nmore truly the Illuminator of mankind than when He lies in the\ndarkness of the grave and brings immortality to light. He, by His\ndeath, delivers men from the kingdom of darkness, and translates\nthem into His own kingdom; giving them new powers for holiness, new\nhopes, inspiriting them to rebellion against the tyrants that have\ndominion over them; and thus conquering when He falls. The power of\nthe darkness is broken like a crested wave, toppling over at its\nhighest and dissolving in ineffectual spray.\n\nSo we have encouragement for all momentary checks and defeats, if\nthere be such in our experience, when we are doing Christ's work.\nThe history of the Church repeats in all ages, generation after\ngeneration, the same law to which the Master submitted: 'Except a\ncorn of wheat fall into the ground and die it abideth alone; but if\nit die it bringeth forth much fruit.' We conquer when we are\novercome; Christ conquered so, and His servants after Him.\n\nAnd now apply all these principles which I have so imperfectly\nstated to your own personal lives. Men and the kingdom of darkness\nover-reached and outwitted themselves when they slew Jesus Christ.\nAnd so all antagonism to Him, whether it be theoretical or whether\nit be practical, and alienation of heart only, is suicidal folly.\nWhen it most succeeds it is nearest the breaking point of utter\nfailure, like a man sawing off the branch on which he sits. Every\nman that sets himself against God in Christ, either to argue Him\ndown and talk Him out of existence, or to 'break His bands asunder\nand cast away His cords,' has begun a Sisyphean task which will\nnever come to any good. All sin is essentially irrational and\nopposed to the whole motion of the universe, and must necessarily be\nannihilated and come to nothing. The coarse title of one of our old\nEnglish plays carries a great truth in it; 'The Devil is an Ass,'\nand for the man that obeys the kingdom of darkness the right epitaph\nis 'Thou fool! Oh, brothers! do not fling yourselves into that\nhopeless struggle. Put yourselves on the right side in this age-long\nconflict, of which the issue was determined before evil was, and was\naccomplished when Christ died. For be sure of this, that as\ncertainly as 'The darkness is past, and the true Light now shineth,'\nso certainly all they that fight against the light--and all men\nfight against it who shut their eyes to it--are engaged in a\nconflict of which only one issue is possible, and that is defeat,\nbitter, complete, absolute. Rather let us all, though we be evil,\nand though there be a bad self in us that knows itself to be evil\nand hates the Light--let us all go to it. It may pain the eye, but\nit is the only cure for the ophthalmia. Let us go to it, spread\nourselves out before it, and say, 'Search me, O Christ, and try me,\nand see if there be any wicked way in me. Lead me, a blind man, into\nthe light.' And His answer will come: 'I am the Light of the world;\nhe that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the\nLight of life.'\n\n\n\n\nIN THE HIGH PRIEST'S PALACE\n\n\n    'Then took they Him, and led Him, and brought Him into\n    the high priest's house. And Peter followed afar off.\n    55. And when they had kindled a fire in the midst of\n    the hall, and were set down together, Peter sat down\n    among them. 56. But a certain maid beheld him as he\n    sat by the fire, and earnestly looked upon him, and\n    said, This man was also with Him. 57. And he denied\n    Him, saying, Woman, I know Him not. 58. And, after a\n    little while, another saw him, and said, Thou art also\n    of them. And Peter said, Man, I am not. 59. And about\n    the space of one hour after another confidently\n    affirmed, saying, Of a truth this fellow also was with\n    Him; for he is a Galilean. 60. And Peter said, Man, I\n    know not what thou sayest. And immediately, while he\n    yet spake, the cock crew. 61. And the Lord turned, and\n    looked upon Peter: and Peter remembered the word of\n    the Lord, how He had said unto him, Before the cock\n    crow, thou shalt deny Me thrice. 62. And Peter went\n    out, and wept bitterly. 63. And the men that held\n    Jesus mocked Him and smote Him. 64. And when they had\n    blindfolded Him, they struck Him on the face, and\n    asked Him, saying, Prophesy, who is it that smote\n    Thee? 65. And many other things blasphemously spake\n    they against Him. 66. And as soon as it was day, the\n    elders of the people, and the chief priests, and the\n    scribes, came together, and led Him into their\n    council, 67. Saying, Art Thou the Christ? tell us. And\n    He said unto them, If I tell you, ye will not believe:\n    68. And If I also ask you, ye will not answer Me, nor\n    let Me go. 69. Hereafter shall the Son of man sit on\n    the right hand of the power of God. 70. Then said they\n    all, Art Thou then the Son of God? And He said unto\n    them, Ye say that I am. 71. And they said, What need\n    we any further witness? for we ourselves have heard of\n    His own mouth.'--LUKE xxii. 54-71.\n\nThe present passage deals with three incidents, each of which may be\nregarded either as an element in our Lord's sufferings or as a\nrevelation of man's sin. He is denied, mocked, and formally rejected\nand condemned. A trusted friend proves faithless, the underlings of\nthe rulers brutally ridicule His prophetic claims, and their masters\nvote Him a blasphemer for assenting His divinity and Messiahship.\n\nI. We have the failure of loyalty and love in Peter's denials. I may\nobserve that Luke puts all Peter's denials before the hearing by the\ncouncil, from which it is clear that the latter was later than the\nhearing recorded by Matthew and John. The first denial probably took\nplace in the great hall of the high priest's official residence, at\nthe upper end of which the prisoner was being examined, while the\nhangers--on huddled round the fire, idly waiting the event.\n\nThe morning air bit sharply, and Peter, exhausted, sleepy, sad, and\nshivering, was glad to creep near the blaze. Its glinting on his\nface betrayed him to a woman's sharp eye, and her gossiping tongue\ncould not help blurting out her discovery. Curiosity, not malice,\nmoved her; and there is no reason to suppose that any harm would\nhave come to Peter, if he had said, as he should have done, 'Yes, I\nam His disciple.' The day for persecuting the servants was not yet\ncome, but for the present it was Jesus only who was aimed at.\n\nNo doubt, cowardice had a share in the denials, but there was more\nthan that in them. Peter was worn out with fatigue, excitement, and\nsorrow. His susceptible nature would be strongly affected by the\ntrying scenes of the last day, and all the springs of life would be\nlow. He was always easily influenced by surroundings, and just as,\nat a later date, he was 'carried away' by the presence at Antioch of\nthe Judaisers, and turned his back on the liberal principles which\nhe had professed, so now he could not resist the current of opinion,\nand dreaded being unlike even the pack of menials among whom he sat.\nHe was ashamed of his Master and hid his colours, not so much for\nfear of bodily harm as of ridicule. Was there not a deeper depth\nstill in his denials, even the beginnings of doubt whether, after\nall, Jesus was what he had thought Him? Christ prayed that Peter's\n'faith' should not 'fail' or be totally eclipsed, and that may\nindicate that the assault was made on his 'faith' and that it\nwavered, though it recovered steadfastness.\n\nIf he had been as sure of Christ's work and nature as when he made\nhis great confession, he could not have denied Him. But the sight of\nJesus bound, unresisting, and evidently at the mercy of the rulers,\nmight well make a firmer faith stagger. We have not to steel\nourselves to bear bodily harm if we confess Christ; but many of us\nhave to run counter to a strong current flowing around us, and to be\nalone in the midst of unsympathising companions ready to laugh and\ngibe, and some of us are tempted to waver in our convictions of\nChrist's divinity and redeeming power, because He still seems to\nstand at the bar of the wise men and leaders of opinion, and to be\ntreated by them as a pretender. It is a wretched thing to be\npersecuted out of one's Christianity in the old-fashioned fire and\nsword style; but it is worse to be laughed out of it or to lose it,\nbecause we breathe an atmosphere of unbelief. Let the doctors at the\ntop of the hall and the lackeys round the fire who take their\nopinions from them say what they like, but let them not make us\nashamed of Jesus.\n\nPeter slipped away to the gateway, and there, apparently, was again\nattacked, first by the porteress and then by others, which\noccasioned the second denial, while the third took place in the same\nplace, about an hour afterwards. One sin makes many. The devil's\nhounds hunt in packs. Consistency requires the denier to stick to\nhis lie. Once the tiniest wing tip is in the spider's web, before\nlong the whole body will be wrapped round by its filthy, sticky\nthreads.\n\nIf Peter had been less confident, he would have been more safe. If\nhe had said less about going to prison and death, he would have had\nmore reserve fidelity for the time of trial. What business had he\nthrusting himself into the palace? Over-reliance on self leads\nus to put ourselves in the way of temptations which it were wiser to\navoid. Had he forgotten Christ's warnings?  Apparently so. Christ\npredicts the fall that it may not happen, and if we listen to Him,\nwe shall not fall.\n\nThe moment of recovery seems to have been while our Lord was passing\nfrom the earlier to the later examination before the rulers. In the\nvery floodtide of Peter's oaths, the shrill cock-crow is heard, and\nat the sound the half-finished denial sticks in his throat. At the\nsame moment he sees Jesus led past him, and that look, so full of\nlove, reproof, and pardon, brought him back to loyalty, and saved\nhim from despair. The assurance of Christ's knowledge of our sins\nagainst Him melts the heart, when the assurance of His forgiveness\nand tender love comes with it. Then tears, which are wholly humble\nbut not wholly grief, flow. They do not wash away the sin, but they\ncome from the assurance that Christ's love, like a flood, has swept\nit away. They save from remorse, which has no healing in it.\n\nII. We have the rude taunts of the servants. The mockery here comes\nfrom Jews, and is directed against Christ's prophetic character,\nwhile the later jeers of the Roman soldiers make a jest of His\nkingship. Each set lays hold of what seems to it most ludicrous in\nHis pretensions, and these servants ape their masters on the\njudgment seat, in laughing to scorn this Galilean peasant who\nclaimed to be the Teacher of them all. Rude natures have to take\nrude ways of expression, and the vulgar mockery meant precisely the\nsame as more polite and covert scorn means from more polished\npeople; namely, rooted disbelief in Him. These mockers were\ncontented to take their opinions on trust from priests and rabbis.\nHow often, since then, have Christ's servants been objects of\npopular odium at the suggestion of the same classes, and how often\nhave the ignorant people been misled by their trust in their\nteachers to hate and persecute their true Master!\n\nJesus is silent under all the mockery, but then, as now, He knows\nwho strikes Him. His eyes are open behind the bandage, and see the\nlifted hands and mocking lips. He will speak one day, and His speech\nwill be detection and condemnation. Then He was silent, as patiently\nenduring shame and spitting for our sakes. Now He is silent, as\nlong-suffering and wooing us to repentance; but He keeps count and\nrecord of men's revilings, and the day comes when He whose eyes are\nas a flame of fire will say to every foe, 'I know thy works.'\n\nIII. We have the formal rejection and condemnation by the council.\nThe hearing recorded in verses 66 to  71 took place 'as soon as it\nwas day,' and was apparently a more formal official ratification of\nthe proceedings of the earlier examination described by Matthew and\nJohn. The ruler's question was put simply in order to obtain\nmaterial for the condemnation already resolved on. Our Lord's answer\nfalls into two parts, in the first of which He in effect declines to\nrecognise the _bona fides_ of His judges and the competency of\nthe tribunal, and in the second goes beyond their question, and\nclaims participation in divine glory and power. 'If I tell you, ye\nwill not believe'; therefore He will not tell them.\n\nJesus will not unfold His claims to those who only seek to hear them\nin order to reject, not to examine, them. Silence is His answer to\ningrained prejudice masquerading as honest inquiry. It is ever so.\nThere is small chance of truth at the goal if there be foregone\nconclusions or biased questions at the starting-point. 'If I ask\nyou, ye will not answer.' They had taken refuge in judicious but\nself-condemning silence when He had asked them the origin of John's\nmission and the meaning of the One Hundred and Tenth Psalm, and\nthereby showed that they were not seeking light. Jesus will gladly\nspeak with any who will be frank with Him, and let Him search their\nhearts; but He will not unfold His mission to such as refuse to\nanswer His questions. But while thus He declines to submit Himself\nto that tribunal, and in effect accuses them of obstinate blindness\nand a fixed conclusion to reject the claims which they were\npretending to examine, He will not leave them without once more\nasserting an even higher dignity than that of Messiah. As a prisoner\nat their bar, He has nothing to say to them; but as their King and\nfuture Judge, He has something. They desire to find materials for\nsentence of death, and though He will not give these in the\ncharacter of a criminal before His judges, He also desires that the\nsentence should pass, and He will declare His divine prerogatives\nand fall possession of divine power in the hearing of the highest\ncourt of the nation.\n\nIt was fitting that the representatives of Israel, however\nprejudiced, should hear at that supreme moment the full assertion of\nfull deity. It was fitting that Israel should condemn itself, by\ntreating that claim as blasphemy. It was fitting that Jesus should\nbring about His death by His twofold claim--that made to the\nSanhedrim, of being the Son of God, and that before Pilate, of being\nthe King of the Jews.\n\nThe whole scene teaches us the voluntary character of Christ's\nDeath, which is the direct result of this tremendous assertion. It\ncarries our thoughts forward to the time when the criminal of that\nmorning shall be the Judge, and the judges and we shall stand at His\nbar. It raises the solemn question, Did Jesus claim truly when He\nclaimed divine power? If truly, do we worship Him? If falsely, what\nwas He? It mirrors the principles on which He deals with men\nuniversally, answering 'him that cometh, according to the multitude\nof his idols,' and meeting hypocritical pretences of seeking the\ntruth about Him with silence, but ever ready to open His heart and\nthe witness to His claims to the honest and docile spirits who are\nready to accept His words, and glad to open their inmost secrets to\nHim.\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S LOOK\n\n\n    'And the Lord turned and looked upon Peter.'\n    --Luke xxii. 61.\n\nAll four Evangelists tell the story of Peter's threefold denial and\nswift repentance, but we owe the knowledge of this look of Christ's\nto Luke only. The other Evangelists connect the sudden change in the\ndenier with his hearing the cock crow only, but according to Luke\nthere were two causes co-operating to bring about that sudden\nrepentance, for, he says, 'Immediately, while he yet spake, the cock\ncrew. And the Lord turned and looked upon Peter.' And we cannot\ndoubt that it was the Lord's look enforcing the fulfilment of His\nprediction of the cock-crow that broke down the denier.\n\nNow, it is very difficult, if not impossible, to weave a consecutive\nwhole out of the four versions of the story of Peter's triple\ndenial. But this at least is clear from them all, that Jesus was\naway at the upper, probably the raised, end of the great hall, and\nthat if any of the three instances of denial took place within that\nbuilding, it was at such a distance that neither could the words be\nheard, nor could a look from one end of it to the other have been\ncaught. I think that if we try to localise, and picture the whole\nscene ourselves, we are obliged to suppose that that look, which\nsmote Peter into swift collapse of penitence, came as the Lord Jesus\nwas being led bound down the hall out through the porch, past the\nfire, and into the gloomy archway, on His road to further suffering.\nAs He was thus brought for a moment close to him, 'the Lord turned\nand looked upon Peter,' and then He passed from his sight for ever,\nas he would fear.\n\nI wish, then, to deal--although it must be very imperfectly and\ninadequately--with that look that changed this man. And I desire to\nconsider two things about it: what it said, and what it did.\n\nI. What it said.--It spoke of Christ's knowledge, of Christ's pain,\nof Christ's love.\n\nOf Christ's knowledge--I have already suggested that we cannot\nsuppose that the Prisoner at one end of the hall, intensely occupied\nwith the questionings and argumentation of the priests, and with the\nfalse witnesses, could have heard the denial, given in tones subdued\nby the place, at the other end. Still less could He have heard the\ndenials in louder tones, and accompanied with execrations, which\nseemed to have been repeated in the porch without. But as He passed\nthe Apostle that look said: 'I heard them all--denials and oaths and\npassion; I heard them all.' No wonder that after the Resurrection,\nPeter, with that remembrance in his mind, fell at the Master's feet\nand said, 'Lord! Thou knowest all things. Thou didst know what Thou\ndidst not hear, my muttered recreancy and treason, and my blurted\nout oaths of denial. Thou knowest all things.' No wonder that when\nhe stood up amongst the Apostles after the Resurrection and the\nAscension, and was the mouthpiece of their prayers, remembering this\nscene as well as other incidents, he began his prayer with 'Thou,\nLord, which knowest the hearts of all men.' But let us remember that\nthis--call it, if you like, supernatural--knowledge which Jesus\nChrist had of the denial, is only one of a great body of facts in\nHis life, if we accept these Gospels, which show that, as one of the\nEvangelists says, at almost the beginning of his history, 'He needed\nnot that any man should testify of man, for He knew what was in\nman.' It is precisely on the same line, as His first words to Peter,\nwhom He greeted as he came to Him with 'Thou art Simon; thou shalt\nbe Cephas.' It is entirely on the same line as the words with which\nHe greeted another of this little group, 'When thou wast under the\nfig-tree I saw thee.' It is on the same line as the words with which\nHe penetrated to the unspoken thoughts of His churlish entertainer\nwhen He said, 'Simon! I have somewhat to say unto thee.' It\nis on the lines on which we have to think of that Lord now as\nknowing us all. He looks still from the judgment-seat, where He does\nnot stand as a criminal, but sits as the supreme and omniscient\nArbiter of our fates, and Judge of our actions. And He beholds us,\neach of us, moment by moment, as we go about our work, and often, by\nour cowardice, by our faithlessness, by our inconsistencies, 'deny\nthe Lord that bought' us. It is an awful thought, and therefore do\nmen put it away from them: 'Thou God seest me.' But it is stripped\nof all its awfulness, while it retains all its purifying and\nquickening power, when we think, as our old hymn has it:\n\n  'Though now ascended up on high,\n  He bends on earth a Brother's eye.'\n\nAnd we have not only to feel that the eye that looks upon us is\ncognisant of our denials, but that it is an eye that pities our\ninfirmities, and knowing us altogether, loves us better than we\nknow. Oh! if we believed in Christ's look, and that it was the look\nof infinite love, life would be less solitary, less sad, and we\nshould feel that wherever His glance fell there His help was sure,\nand there were illumination and blessedness. The look spoke of\nChrist's knowledge.\n\nAgain, it spoke of Christ's pain. Peter had not thought that he was\nhurting his Master by his denials; he only thought of saving\nhimself. And, perhaps, if it had come into his loving and impulsive\nnature, which yielded to the temptation the more readily because of\nthe same impulsiveness which also led it to yield swiftly to good\ninfluences, if he had thought that he was adding another pang to the\npains of his Lord whom he had loved through all his denial, even his\ncowardice would have plucked up courage to 'confess, and deny not\nbut confess,' that he belonged to the Christ. But he did not\nremember all that. And now there came into his mind--from that look,\nthe bitter thought, 'I have wrung His heart with yet another pang,\nand at this supreme moment, when there is so much to rack and pain;\nI have joined the tormentors.'\n\nAnd so, do we not pain Jesus Christ? Mysterious as it is, yet it\nseems as if, since it is true that we please Him when we are obeying\nHim, it must be somehow true that we pain Him when we deny Him, and\nsome kind of shadow of grief may pass even over that glorified\nnature when we sin against Him, and forget Him, and repay His love\nwith indifference, and reject His counsel. We know that in His\nearthly life there was no bitterer pang inflicted upon Him than the\none which the Psalmist prophesied, 'He that ate bread with Me hath\nlifted up his heel against Me.' And we know that in the measure in\nwhich human nature is purified and perfected, in that measure does\nit become more susceptible and sensitive to the pain of faithless\nfriends. Chilled love, rejected endeavours to help--which are,\nperhaps, the deepest and the most spiritual of sorrows which men can\ninflict upon one another, Jesus Christ experienced in full measure,\nheaped up and running over. And we, even we today, may be 'grieving\nthe Holy Spirit of God, whereby we are sealed unto the day of\nredemption.' Christ's knowledge of the Apostle's denials brought\npain to His heart.\n\nAgain, the look spoke of Christ's love. There was in it saddened\ndisapprobation, but there was not in it any spark of anger; nor\nwhat, perhaps, would be worse, any ice of withdrawal or indifference.\nBut there even at that supreme moment, lied against by false witnesses,\ninsulted and spit upon by rude soldiers, rejected by the priests as\nan impostor and a blasphemer, and on His road to the Cross, when, if\never, He might have been absorbed in Himself, was His heart at leisure\nfrom itself, and in divine and calm self-oblivion could think of helping\nthe poor denier that stood trembling there beneath His glance. That\nis of a piece with the majestic, yet not repelling calm, which marks\nthe Lord in all His life, and which reaches its very climax in the\nPassion and on the Cross. Just as, whilst nailed there, He had leisure\nto think of the penitent thief, and of the weeping mother, and of the\ndisciple whose loss of his Lord would be compensated by the gaining\nof her to take care of, so as He was being borne to Pilate's judgment,\nHe turned with a love that forgot itself, and poured itself into the\ndenier's heart. Is not that a divine and eternal revelation for us?\nWe speak of the love of a brother who, sinned against seventy times\nseven, yet forgives. We bow in reverence before the love of a mother\nwho cannot forget, but must have compassion on the son of her womb. We\nwonder at the love of a father who goes out to seek the prodigal. But\nall these are less than that love which beamed lambent from the eye\nof Christ, as it fell on the denier, and which therein, in that one\ntransitory glance, revealed for the faith and thankfulness of all\nages an eternal fact. That love is steadfast as the heavens, firm as\nthe foundations of the earth. 'Yea! the mountains may depart and the\nhills be removed, but My loving kindness shall not depart, neither\nshall the covenant of My peace be removed.' It cannot be frozen,\ninto indifference. It cannot be stirred into heat of anger. It\ncannot be provoked to withdrawal. Repelled, it returns; sinned\nagainst, it forgives; denied, it meekly beams on in self-revelation;\nit hopeth all things, it beareth all things. And He who, as He\npassed out to Pilate's bar, cast His look of love on the denier, is\nlooking upon each of us, if we would believe it, with the same look,\npitiful and patient, reproachful, and yet forgiving, which unveils\nall His love, and would fain draw us in answering love, to cast\nourselves at His feet, and tell Him all our sin.\n\nAnd now, let us turn to the second point that I suggested.\n\nII. What the look did.\n\nFirst, it tore away the veil that hid Peter's sin from himself. He\nhad not thought that he was doing anything wrong when he denied. He\nhad not thought about anything but saving his own skin. If he had\nreflected for a moment no doubt he would have found excuses, as we\nall can do. But when Christ stood there, what had become of the\nexcuses? As by a flash he saw the ugliness of the deed that he\nhimself had done. And there came, no doubt, into his mind in\naggravation of the denial, all that had passed from that very first\nday when he had come to Christ's presence, all the confidences that\nhad been given to him, how his wife's mother had been healed, how he\nhimself had been cared for and educated, how he had been honoured\nand distinguished, how he had boasted and vowed and hectored the day\nbefore. And so he 'went out and wept bitterly.'\n\nNow _our_ sin captures us by lying to us, by blinding our\nconsciences. You cannot hear the shouts of the men on the bank\nwarning you of your danger when you are in the midst of the rapids,\nand so our sin deafens us to the still small voice of conscience.\nBut nothing so surely reveals to us the true moral character of any\nof our actions, be they right or wrong, as bringing them under\nChrist's eye, and thinking to ourselves. 'Durst I do that if He\nstood there beside me and saw it?' Peter could deny Him when He was\nat the far end of the hall. He could not have denied Him if he had\nhad Him by his side. And if we will take our actions, especially any\nof them about which we are in doubt, into His presence, then it will\nbe wonderful how conscience will be enlightened and quickened, how\nthe fiend will start up in his own shape, and how poor and small the\nmotives which tempted so strongly to do wrong will come to look,\nwhen we think of adducing them to Jesus. What did a maid-servant's\nflippant tongue matter to Peter then? And how wretchedly inadequate\nthe reason for his denial looked when Christ's eye fell upon him.\nThe most recent surgical method of treating skin diseases is to\nbring an electric light, ten times as strong as the brightest street\nlights, to bear upon the diseased patch, and fifty minutes of that\nsearch-light clears away the disease. Bring the beam from Christ's\neye to bear on your lives, and you will see a great deal of leprosy,\nand scurf, and lupus, and all that you see will be cleared away. The\nlook tore down the veil.\n\nWhat more did it do? It melted the denier's heart into sorrow. I can\nquite understand a conscience being so enlightened as to be\nconvinced of the evil of a certain course, and yet there being none\nof that melting into sorrow, which, as I believe, is absolutely\nnecessary for any permanent victory over sins. No man will ever\nconquer his evil as long as he only shudderingly recoils from it. He\nhas to be broken down into the penitential mood before he will\nsecure the victory over his sin. You remember the profound words in\nour Lord's pregnant parable of the seeds, how one class which\ntransitorily was Christian, had for its characteristic that\nimmediately with joy they received the word. Yes; a Christianity\nthat puts repentance into a parenthesis, and talks about faith only,\nwill never underlie a permanent and thorough moral reformation.\nThere is nothing that brings 'godly sorrow,' so surely as a glimpse\nof Christ's love; and nothing that reveals the love so certainly as\nthe 'look.' You may hammer at a man's heart with law, principle, and\nmoral duty, and all the rest of it, and you may get him to feel that\nhe is a very poor creature, but unless the sunshine of Christ's love\nshines down upon him, there will be no melting, and if there is no\nmelting there will be no permanent bettering.\n\nAnd there was another thing that the look did. It tore away the veil\nfrom the sin; it made rivers of water flow from the melted heart in\nsorrow of true repentance; and it kept the sorrow from turning into\ndespair. Judas 'went out and hanged himself.' Peter 'went out and\nwept bitterly.' What made the one the victim of remorse, and the\nother the glad child of repentance? How was it that the one was\nstiffened into despair that had no tears, and the other was saved\nbecause he could weep? Because the one saw his sin in the lurid\nlight of an awakened conscience, and the other saw his sin in the\nloving look of a pardoning Lord. And that is how you and I ought to\nsee our sins. Be sure, dear friend, that the same long-suffering,\npatient love is looking down upon each of us, and that if we will,\nlike Peter, let the look melt us into penitent self-distrust and\nheart-sorrow for our clinging sins, then Jesus will do for us, as He\ndid for that penitent denier on the Resurrection morning. He will\ntake us apart by ourselves and speak healing words of forgiveness\nand reconciliation, so that we, like him, will dare in spite of our\nfaithlessness, to fall at His feet and say, 'Lord, Thou knowest all\nthings; Thou knowest that I, erst faithless and treacherous, love\nThee; and all the more because Thou hast forgiven the denial and\nrestored the denier.'\n\n\n\n\n'THE RULERS TAKE COUNSEL TOGETHER'\n\n\n    'And the whole multitude of them arose, and led Him\n    unto Pilate. 2. And they began to accuse Him, saying,\n    We found this fellow perverting the nation, and\n    forbidding to give tribute to Caesar, saying that He\n    Himself is Christ a King. 3. And Pilate asked Him,\n    saying, Art thou the King of the Jews? And He answered\n    him and said, Thou sayest it. 4. Then said Pilate to\n    the chief priests and to the people, I find no fault\n    in this man. 5. And they were the more fierce, saying,\n    He stirreth up the people teaching throughout all\n    Jewry, beginning from Galilee to this place. 6. When\n    Pilate heard of Galilee, he asked whether the man were\n    a Galilean. 7. And as soon as he knew that He belonged\n    unto Herod's jurisdiction, he sent Him to Herod, who\n    himself also was at Jerusalem at that time. 8. And\n    when Herod saw Jesus, he was exceeding glad: for he\n    was desirous to see Him of a long season, because he\n    had heard many things of Him; and he hoped to have\n    seen some miracle done by Him. 9. Then he questioned\n    with Him in many words; but He answered him nothing.\n    10. And the chief priests and scribes stood and\n    vehemently accused Him. 11. And Herod with his men of\n    war set Him at nought, and mocked Him, and arrayed Him\n    in a gorgeous robe, and sent Him again to Pilate.\n    12. And the same day Pilate and Herod were made\n    friends together: for before they were at enmity\n    between themselves.'--LUKE xxiii. 1-12.\n\nLuke's canvas is all but filled by the persecutors, and gives only\nglimpses of the silent Sufferer. But the silence of Jesus is\neloquent, and the prominence of the accusers and judges heightens\nthe impression of His passive endurance. We have in this passage the\nJewish rulers with their murderous hate; Pilate contemptuously\nindifferent, but perplexed and wishing to shirk responsibility; and\nHerod with his frivolous curiosity. They present three types of\nunworthy relations to Jesus Christ.\n\nI. We see first the haters of Jesus. So fierce is their hatred that\nthey swallow the bitter pill of going to Pilate for the execution of\ntheir sentence. John tells us that they began by trying to get\nPilate to decree the crucifixion without knowing Jesus' crime; but\nthat was too flagrant injustice, and too blind confidence in them,\nfor Pilate to grant. So they have to manufacture a capital charge on\nthe spot, and they are equal to the occasion. By the help of two\nlies, and one truth so twisted as to be a lie, they get up an\nindictment, which they think will be grave enough to compel the\nprocurator to do as they wish.\n\nTheir accusation, if it had been ever so true, would have been\nludicrous on their lips; and we may be sure that, if it had been\ntrue, they would have been Jesus' partisans, not His denouncers.'\nThe Gracchi complaining of sedition' are nothing to the Sanhedrim\naccusing a Jew of rebellion against Rome. Every man in that crowd\nwas a rebel at heart, and would have liked nothing better than to\nsee the standard of revolt lifted in a strong hand. Pilate was not\nso simple as to be taken in by such an accusation from such\naccusers, and it fails. They return to the charge, and the 'more\nurgent' character of the second attempt is found in its statement of\nthe widespread extent of Christ's teaching, but chiefly in the\ncunning introduction of Galilee, notoriously a disaffected and\ntroublesome district.\n\nWhat a hideous and tragic picture we have here of the ferocity of\nthe hatred, which turned the very fountains of justice and guardians\nof a nation into lying plotters against innocence, and sent these\nJewish rulers cringing before Pilate, pretending loyalty and\nacknowledging his authority! They were ready for any falsehood and\nany humiliation, if only they could get Jesus crucified. And what\nhad excited their hatred? Chiefly His teachings, which brushed aside\nthe rubbish both of ceremonial observance and of Rabbinical\ncasuistry, and placed religion in love to God and consequent love to\nman; then His attitude of opposition to them as an order; and\nfinally His claim, which they never deigned to examine, to be the\nSon of God. That, they said, was blasphemy, as it was, unless it\nwere true,--an alternative which they did not look at. So blinded\nmay men be by prejudice, and so mastered by causeless hatred of Him\nwho loves them all!\n\nThese Jewish rulers were men like ourselves. Instead of shuddering\nat their crime, as if it were something far outside of anything\npossible for us, we do better if we learn from it the terrible\ndepths of hostility to Jesus, the tragic blindness to His character\nand love, and the degradation of submission to usurpers, which must\naccompany denial of His right to rule over us. 'They hated Me\nwithout a cause,' said Christ; but He pointed to that hatred as sure\nto be continued towards Him and His servants as long as 'the world'\ncontinues the world.\n\nII. We have Pilate, indifferent and perplexed. Luke's very brief\naccount should be supplemented by John's, which shows us how\nimportant the conversation, so much abbreviated by Luke, was. Of\ncourse Pilate knew the priests and rulers too well to believe for a\nmoment that the reason they gave for bringing Jesus to him was the\nreal one, and his taking Jesus apart to speak with Him shows a wish\nto get at the bottom of the case. So far he was doing his duty, but\nthen come the faults. These may easily be exaggerated, and we should\nremember that Pilate was the most ignorant, and therefore the least\nguilty, of all the persons mentioned in this passage. He had\nprobably never heard the name of Jesus till that day, and saw\nnothing but an ordinary Jewish peasant, whom his countrymen, like\nthe incomprehensible and troublesome people they were, wished, for\nsome fantastic reason, to get killed.\n\nBut that dialogue with his Prisoner should have sunk deeper into his\nmind and heart. He was in long and close enough contact with Jesus\nto have seen glimpses of the light, which, if followed, would have\nled to clear recognition. His first sin was indifference, not\nunmingled with scorn, and it blinded him. Christ's lofty and\nwonderful explanation of the nature of His kingdom and His mission\nto bear witness to the truth fell on entirely preoccupied ears,\nwhich were quick enough to catch the faintest whispers of treason,\nbut dull towards 'truth.' When Jesus tried to reach his conscience\nby telling him that every lover of truth would listen to His voice,\nhe only answered by the question, to which he waited not for an\nanswer, 'What is truth?'\n\nThat was not the question of a theoretical sceptic, but simply of a\nman who prided himself on being 'practical,' and left all talk about\nsuch abstractions to dreamers. The limitations of the Roman\nintellect and its characteristic over-estimate of deeds and contempt\nfor pure thought, as well as the spirit of the governor, who would\nlet men think what they chose, as long as they did not rebel, spoke\nin the question. Pilate is an instance of a man blinded to all lofty\ntruth and to the beauty and solemn significance of Christ's words,\nby his absorption in outward life. He thinks of Jesus as a harmless\nfanatic. Little did he know that the truth, which he thought\nmoonshine, would shatter the Empire, which he thought the one solid\nreality. So called practical men commit the same mistake in every\ngeneration. 'All flesh is as grass;... the word of the Lord endureth\nfor ever.'\n\nFurther, Pilate sinned in prostituting his office by not setting\nfree the prisoner when he was convinced of His innocence. 'I find no\nfault in this man,' should have been followed by immediate release.\nEvery moment afterwards, in which He was kept captive, was the\ncondemnation of the unjust judge. He was clearly anxious to keep his\ntroublesome subjects in good humour, and thought that the judicial\nmurder of one Jew was a small price to pay for popularity. Still he\nwould have been glad to have escaped from what his official training\nhad taught him to recoil from, and what some faint impression, made\nby his patient prisoner, gave him a strange dread of. So he grasps\nat the mention of Galilee, and tries to gain two good ends at once\nby handing Jesus over to Herod.\n\nThe relations between Antipas and him were necessarily delicate,\nlike those between the English officials and the rajahs of native\nstates in India; and there had been some friction, perhaps about\n'the Galileans, whose blood' he 'had mingled with their sacrifices.'\nIf there had been difficulties in connection with such a question of\njurisdiction, the despatch of Jesus to Herod would be a graceful way\nof making the _amende honorable_, and would also shift an\nunpleasant decision on to Herod's shoulders. Pilate would not be\ndispleased to get rid of embarrassment, and to let Herod be the tool\nof the priests' hate.\n\nHow awful the thought is of the contrast between Pilate's\nconceptions of what he was doing and the reality! How blind to\nChrist's beauty it is possible to be, when engrossed with selfish\naims and outward things! How near a soul may be to the light, and\nyet turn away from it and plunge into darkness! How patient that\nsilent prisoner, who lets Himself be bandied about from one tyrant\nto another, not because they had power, but because He loved the\nworld, and would bear the sins of every one of us! How terrible the\nchange when these unjust judges and He will change places, and\nPilate and Herod stand at His judgment-seat!\n\nIII. We have the wretched, frivolous Herod. This is the murderer of\nJohn Baptist--'that fox,' a debauchee, a coward, and as cruel as\nsensuous. He had all the vices of his worthless race, and none of\nthe energy of its founder. He is by far the most contemptible of the\nfigures in this passage. Note his notion of, and his feeling to,\nJesus. He thought of our Lord as of a magician or juggler, who might\ndo some wonders to amuse the vacuous _ennui_ of his sated\nnature. Time was when he had felt some twinge of conscience in\nlistening to the Baptist, and had almost been lifted to nobleness by\nthat strong arm. Time was, too, when he had trembled at hearing of\nJesus, and taken Him for his victim risen from a bloody grave. But\nall that is past now. The sure way to stifle conscience is to\nneglect it. Do that long and resolutely enough, and it will cease to\nutter unheeded warnings. There will be a silence which may look like\npeace, but is really death. Herod's gladness was more awful and\nreally sad than Herod's fear. Better to tremble at God's word than\nto treat it as an occasion for mirth. He who hates a prophet because\nhe knows him to be a prophet and himself to be a sinner, is not so\nhopeless as he who only expects to get sport out of the messenger of\nGod.\n\nThen note the Lord's silence. Herod plies Jesus with a battery of\nquestions, and gets no answer. If there had been a grain of\nearnestness in them all, Christ would have spoken. He never is\nsilent to a true seeker after truth. But it is fitting that\nfrivolous curiosity should be unanswered, and there is small\nlikelihood of truth being found at the goal when there is nothing\nmore noble than that temper at the starting-point. Christ's silence\nis the penalty of previous neglect of Christ's and His forerunner's\nwords. Jesus guides His conduct by His own precept, 'Give not that\nwhich is holy unto the dogs'; and He knows, as we never can, who\ncome into that terrible list of men to whom it would only add\ncondemnation to speak of even His love. The eager hatred of the\npriests followed Jesus to Herod's palace, but no judicial action is\nrecorded as taking place there. Their fierce earnestness of hate\nseems out of place in the frivolous atmosphere. The mockery, in\nwhich Herod is not too dignified to join his soldiers, is more in\nkeeping. But how ghastly it sounds to us, knowing whom they\nignorantly mocked! Cruelty, inane laughter, hideous pleasure in an\ninnocent man's pain, disregard of law and justice--all these they\nwere guilty of; and Herod, at any rate, knew enough of Jesus to give\na yet darker colouring to his share in the coarse jest.\n\nBut how the loud laugh would have fallen silent if some flash had\ntold who Jesus was! Is there any of our mirth, perhaps at some of His\nservants, or at some phase of His gospel, which would in like manner\nstick in our throats if His judgment throne blazed above us? Ridicule\nis a dangerous weapon. It does more harm to those who use it than to\nthose against whom it is directed. Herod thought it an exquisite jest\nto dress up his prisoner as a king; but Herod has found out, by this\ntime, whether he or the Nazarene was the sham monarch, and who is the\nreal one. Christ was as silent under mockery as to His questioner. He\nbears all, and He takes account of all. He bears it because He is the\nworld's Sacrifice and Saviour. He takes account of it, and will one\nday recompense it, because He is the world's King, and will be its\nJudge. Where shall we stand then--among the silenced mockers, or\namong the happy trusters in His Passion and subjects of His dominion?\n\n\n\n\nA SOUL'S TRAGEDY\n\n\n    'Then Herod questioned with Him in many words; but He\n    answered him nothing.'--LUKE xxiii. 9.\n\nFour Herods play their parts in the New Testament story. The first\nof them is the grim old tiger who slew the infants at Bethlehem, and\nsoon after died. This Herod is the second--a cub of the litter, with\nhis father's ferocity and lust, but without his force. The third is\nthe Herod of the earlier part of the Acts of the Apostles, a\ngrandson of the old man, who dipped his hands in the blood of one\nApostle, and would fain have slain another. And the last is Herod\nAgrippa, a son of the third, who is only remembered because he\nonce came across Paul's path, and thought it such a good jest that\nanything should be supposed capable of making a Christian out of\n_him_.\n\nThere is a singular family likeness in the whole of them, and a very\nugly likeness it is. This one was sensual, cruel, cunning, infirm of\npurpose, capricious like a child or a savage. Roman policy amused\nhim with letting him play at being a ruler, but kept him well in\nhand. And I suppose he was made a worse man by the difficulties of\nhis position as a subject-prince.\n\nNow I wish to put together the various incidents in this man's life\nrecorded in the Gospels, and try to gather some lessons from them\nfor you.\n\nI. First, I take him as an example of half-and-half convictions, and\nof the inner discord that comes from these.\n\nI do not need to remind you of the shameful story of his repudiation\nof his own wife, and of his disgusting alliance with the wife of his\nhalf-brother, who was herself his niece. She was the stronger\nspirit, a Biblical Lady Macbeth, the Jezebel to this Ahab; and, to\ncomplete the parallel, Elijah was not far away. John the Baptist's\noutspoken remonstrances of course made an implacable enemy of\nHerodias, who did all she could to compass his death, but was unable\nto manage that, though she secured his imprisonment. The reason for\nher inability is given by the Evangelist Mark, in words which are\nvery inadequately rendered by our Authorised Version, but may be\nfound more correctly translated in the Revised Version. It is there\nsaid that King 'Herod feared John'--the gaoler afraid of his\nprisoner!--'knowing that he was a just man and a holy'--goodness is\nawful. The worst men know it, and it extorts respect. 'And kept him\nsafe'--from Herodias, that is. 'And when he heard him he was\nperplexed'--drawn this way and that way by these two magnets,\nalternately veering to lust and to purity, hesitating between the\nkisses of the beautiful temptress at his side and the words of the\nprophet. And yet, with strange inconsistency, in all his\nvacillations 'he heard him gladly'; for his better part approved the\nnobler voice. And so he staggered on, having religion enough to\nspoil some of his sinful delights, but not enough to shake them off.\n\nThat is a picture for which in its essence many a man and woman\namong us might have sat. For I suppose that there is nothing more\ncommon than these half-and-half convictions which, like inefficient\nbullets, get part way through the armoured shell of a ship, and\nthere stick harmless. Many of us have the clearest convictions in\nour understandings, which have never penetrated to that innermost\nchamber of all, where the will sits sovereign. It is so about little\nthings, it is so about great ones. Nothing is more common than that\na man shall know perfectly well that some possibly trivial habit\nstands in the way of something that it is his interest or his duty\nto pursue; but the knowledge lies inoperative in the outermost part\nof him. It is so in regard to graver things. The majority of the\nslaves of any vice whatsoever know perfectly well that they ought to\ngive it up, and yet nothing comes of the conviction.\n\n'He was much perplexed.' What a picture that is of the state of\nunrest and conflict into which such half-and-half impressions of\nduty cast a man. Such a one is like a vessel with its head now East,\nnow West, because there is some weak or ignorant steersman at the\nhelm. I know nothing more sure to produce inward unrest and\ndisturbance and desolation than that a man's knowledge of duty\nshould be clear, and his obedience to that knowledge partial. If we\nhave John down in the dungeon, if conscience is not allowed to be\nmaster, there may be feasting and revelry going on above, but the\nstern voice will come up through the grating now and then, and that\nwill spoil all the laughter. 'When he heard him, he was much\nperplexed.'\n\nThe reason for these imperfect convictions is generally found, as\nHerod shows us, in the unwillingness to get rid of something which\nhas fastened its claws around us, and which we love too well,\nalthough we know it is a serpent, to shake off. If Herod had once\nbeen man enough to screw himself up, and say to Herodias, 'Now you\npack, and go about your business!' everything else would have come\nright in time. But he could not make up his mind to sacrifice the\nhoneyed poison, and so everything went wrong in time. My friend, how\nmany of us are prevented from following out our clearest convictions\nbecause they demand a sacrifice? 'If thine eye cause thee to\nstumble, pluck it out, and cast it from thee. It is better for\nthee.'\n\nAnd then, further, note that these irresolute convictions and\nshirking of plain duty are not atoned for by, though they are often\naccompanied with, a strange acquiescence in, and approval of, God's\ntruth. Herod fancied, inconsistently enough, that he was making\nsome kind of compensation for disobedience to the message, by liking\nto listen to the messenger. And there are a great many of us, all\nwhose Christianity consists in giving ear to the words which we\nnever think of obeying. I wonder how many of you there are who fancy\nthat you have no more concern with this sermon of mine than\napproving or disapproving of it, as the case may be; and how many of\nus there are who, all our lives long, have substituted criticism of\nthe Gospel as ministered by us poor preachers--be it approving or\ndisapproving criticism--for obedience to the Christ and acceptance\nof His salvation.\n\nII. We see in Herod an example of the utter powerlessness of such\npartial convictions and reformation.\n\nI am not going to tell over again the ghastly story of John's death,\nwhich no other words than the Evangelist's can tell half so\npowerfully. I need only remind you of the degradation of the poor\nchild Salome to the position of a dancing girl, the half-tipsy\ngenerosity of the excited monarch, the grim request from lips so\nyoung and still reddened by the excitement of the dance, Herod's\nunavailing sorrow, his fantastic sense of honour which scrupled to\nbreak a wicked promise, but did not scruple to kill a righteous man,\nand the ghastly picture of the girl carrying a bleeding head--such a\ngift!--to her mother.\n\nBut out of that jumble of lust and blood I desire to gather one\nlesson. There you have--in an extreme form, it is true--a tremendous\nillustration of what half-and-half convictions may come to. Whether\nor no we ever get anything like as far on the road as this man did\nmatters very little. The process which brought him there is the\nthing that I seek to point to. It was because he had so long\ntampered with the voice of his conscience that it was lulled into\nsilence at that last critical moment. And this is always the case,\nthat if a man is false to the feeblest conviction that he has in\nregard to the smallest duty, he is a worse man all over ever after.\nWe cannot neglect any conviction of what we ought to do, without\nlowering the whole tone of our characters and laying ourselves open\nto assaults of evil from which we would once have turned shuddering\nand disgusted. A partial thaw is generally followed by intenser\nfrost. An abortive insurrection is sure to issue in a more grinding\ntyranny. A soul half melted and then cooled off is less easy to melt\nthan it was before. And so, dear brethren, remember this, that if\nyou do not swiftly and fully carry out in life and conduct\nwhatsoever you know you ought to be or do, you cannot set a limit to\nwhat, some time or other, if a strong and sudden temptation is\nsprung upon you, you may become. 'Is thy servant a dog that he\nshould do this thing?' Yes! But he did it. No mortal reaches the\nextreme of evil all at once, says the wise old proverb; and the path\nby which a man is let down into depths that he never thought it was\npossible that he should traverse is by the continual neglect of the\nsmall admonitions of conscience. Neglected convictions mean, sooner\nor later, an outburst of evil.\n\nJohn's murder may illustrate another thing too--viz. how simple,\nfacile weakness of character may be the parent of all enormities.\nHerod did not want to kill John. He very much wanted to keep him\nalive. But he was not man enough to put his foot down, and say,\n'There! I have said it; and there is to be no more talk about\nslaying this prophet of God.' So the continual drop, drop, drop, of\nHerodias' suggestions and wishes wore a hole, in the loose-textured\nstone at last; and he did the thing that he hated to do and had long\nfought against. Why? Because he was a poor weak creature.\n\nThe lesson from this is one that I would urge upon all you young\npeople especially, that in a world like this, where there are so\nmany more voices soliciting us to evil than inviting us to good, to\nbe weak is, in the long run, to be wicked. So do you cultivate the\nwholesome habit of saying 'No,' and do not be afraid of anything but\nof hurting your conscience and sinning against God.\n\nIII. Once more, we have in Herod an example of the awakening of\nconscience.\n\nWhen Jesus began to be talked about beyond the narrow limits of the\nshores of the Sea of Galilee, and especially when He began to\norganise the Apostolate, and His name was spread abroad, some\nrumours reached even the court, and there were divergent opinions\nabout Him. One man said, It is Elias; and another said, It is a\nprophet, 'and Herod said, It is John, whom I beheaded. He has risen\nfrom the dead, and therefore mighty works do show forth themselves\nin him.'\n\nAh, brethren! when a man has, away back in the chambers of his\nmemory, some wrong thing, be it great or be it little, he is at the\nmercy of any chance or accident to have it revived in all its\nvividness. It is an awful thing to walk this world with a whole\nmagazine of combustibles in our memories, on which any spark may\nfall and light lurid and sulphurous flames. A chance thing may do\nit, a scent, a look upon a face, a sound, or any trifle may bring\nall at once before the wrongdoer that ancient evil. And no lapse of\ntime makes it less dreadful when it is unveiled. The chance thrust\nof a boat-hook that gets tangled in the grey hairs of a corpse,\nbrings it up grim to the surface. Press a button, by accident, upon\na wall in some old castle, and a door flies open that leads away\ndown into black depths. You and I have depths of that sort in our\nhearts. Then there are no more illusions about whose fault the deed\nwas. When Herod killed John, he said, 'Oh! It is not I! It is\nHerodias. It is Salome. It is my oath. It is the respect I bear to\nthe people who heard me swear. I must do it, but I am not\nresponsible.' But when, in 'the sessions of silent thought,' the\ndeed came back to him, Salome and Herodias, the oath, and the\ncompany were all out of sight, and he said, 'I! _I_ did it.'\n\nThat is what we all shall have to do some day, in this world\npossibly, in the next certainly. Men sophisticate themselves with\ntalk about palliations, and excuses, and temptations, and companions\nand the like. And philosophers sophisticate themselves nowadays\nwith a great many learned explanations, which tend to show that a\nman is not to blame for the wrong things he does. But all that\nrubbish gets burned up when conscience wakes, and the doer says,\n'Whom _I_ beheaded.'\n\nBrethren, unless we take refuge in the great sacrifice for the sins\nof the world which Jesus Christ has made, we shall, possibly in this\nlife, and certainly hereafter, be surrounded by a company of our own\nevil deeds risen from the dead, and every one of them will shake its\ngory locks at us, and say, '_Thou_ didst it.'\n\nIV. The last lesson that I gather from this man's life is the final\ninsensibility which these half-and-half convictions tend to produce.\n\nJesus Christ was sent by Pilate to Herod as a kind of peace-offering.\nThe two had been squabbling about some question of jurisdiction; and\nso, partly to escape from the embarrassment of having to deal with\nthis enigmatical Prisoner, and partly out of a piece of politic\npoliteness, Pilate sends Jesus to Herod, because He was in his\njurisdiction. Think of the Lord of men and angels being handed about\nfrom one to the other of these two scoundrels, as a piece of politeness!\n\nWhen Christ stands before Herod, note that all its former\nconvictions, partial or entire, and all its terrors superficial or\ndeep, have faded clean away from this frivolous soul. All that he\nfeels now is a childish delight in having this well-known Man before\nhim, and a hope that, for his delectation, Jesus will work a\nmiracle; much as he might expect a conjurer to do one of his tricks!\nThat is what killing John came to--an incapacity to see anything in\nJesus.\n\n'And he asked Him many questions, and Jesus answered him nothing.'\nHe locked His lips. Why? He was doing what He Himself enjoined:\n'Give not that which is holy to the dogs. Cast not your pearls\nbefore swine.' He said nothing, because He knew it was useless to\nsay anything. So the Incarnate Word, whose very nature and property\nit is to speak, was silent before the frivolous curiosity of the man\nthat had been false to his deepest convictions.\n\nIt is a parable, brother, of what is being repeated over and over\nagain amongst us. I dare not say that Jesus Christ is ever\nabsolutely dumb to any man on this side of the grave; but I dare not\nrefrain from saying that this condition of insensibility to His\nwords is one that we may indefinitely approach, and that the surest\nway to approach it and to reach it is to fight down, or to neglect,\nthe convictions that lead up to Him. John was the forerunner of\nChrist, and if Herod had listened to John, to him John would have\nsaid: 'Behold the Lamb of God!' To you I say it, and beseech you to\ntake that Lamb of God as the Sacrifice for your sins, for the Healer\nand Cleanser of your memories and your consciences, for the Helper\nwho will enable you joyfully to make all sacrifices to duty, and to\ncarry into effect every conviction which His own merciful hand\nwrites upon your hearts. And oh, dear friends, many of you strangers\nto me, to whom my voice seldom comes, let me plead with you not to\nbe content with 'hearing' any of us 'gladly,' but to do what our\nwords point to, and to follow Christ the Saviour. If you hear the\nGospel, however imperfectly, as you are hearing it proclaimed now,\nand if you neglect it as--must I say?--you are doing now, you will\nbring another film over your eyes which may grow thick enough to\nshut out all the light; you will wind another fold about your hearts\nwhich may prove impenetrable to the sword of the Spirit; you will\nput another plug in your ears which may make them deaf to the music\nof Christ's voice. Do what you know you ought to do, yield\nyourselves to Jesus Christ. And do it now, whilst impressions are\nbeing made, lest, if you let them sleep, they may never return.\nFelix trembled when Paul reasoned; but he waved away the messenger\nand the message, and though he sent for Paul often, and communed\nwith him, he never trembled any more.\n\n  'There is a tide in the affairs of men\n  Which, taken at the flood,'\n\nwould lead us into the haven of rest in Christ; and, if allowed to\npass, may leave us, stranded and shipwrecked, among the rocks.\n\n\n\n\nJESUS AND PILATE\n\n\n    'And Pilate, when he had called together the chief\n    priests and the rulers and the people, 14. Said unto\n    them, Ye have brought this man unto me, as one that\n    perverteth the people: and, behold, I having examined\n    Him before you, have found no fault in this man\n    touching those things whereof ye accuse Him: 15. No,\n    nor yet Herod; for I sent you to him: and lo, nothing\n    worthy of death is done unto Him. 16. I will therefore\n    chastise Him, and release Him. 17. (For of necessity\n    he must release one unto them at the feast.) 18. And\n    they cried out all at once, saying, Away with this\n    man, and release unto us Barabbas: 19. (Who for a\n    certain sedition made in the city, and for murder, was\n    cast into prison.) 20. Pilate therefore, willing to\n    release Jesus, spake again to them. 21. But they cried,\n    saying, Crucify Him, crucify Him. 22. And he said unto\n    them the third time, Why, what evil hath He done? I\n    have found no cause of death in Him: I will therefore\n    chastise Him, and let Him go. 23. And they were\n    instant with loud voices, requiring that He might he\n    crucified. And the voices of them and of the chief\n    priests prevailed. 24. And Pilate gave sentence that\n    it should be as they required. 25. And he released\n    unto them him that for sedition and murder was cast\n    into prison, whom they had desired; but he delivered\n    Jesus to their will. 26. And as they led Him away,\n    they laid hold upon one Simon, a Cyrenian, coming out\n    of the country, and on him they laid the cross, that\n    he might bear it after Jesus.'--LUKE xxiii. 13-26.\n\nLuke here marks out three stages of the struggle between Pilate and\nthe Jews. Thrice did he try to release Jesus; thrice did they yell\ntheir hatred and their demand for His blood. Then came the shameful\nsurrender by Pilate, in which, from motives of policy, he\nprostituted Roman justice. Knowingly he sacrificed one poor Jew to\nplease his turbulent subjects; unknowingly he slew the Christ of\nGod.\n\nI. The first weak attempt to be just.\n\nPilate invested it with a certain formality by convoking a\nrepresentative gathering of all classes, 'chief priests and the\nrulers and the people.' The nation was summoned to decide solemnly\nwhether they would or would not put their Messiah to death, and a\nRoman governor was their summoner. Surely the irony of fate (or,\nrather, of Providence) could go no further than that. Pilate's\n_r\u00e9sum\u00e9_ of the proceedings up to the moment of his speaking is\nnot without a touch of sarcasm, in the contrast between 'ye' and 'I'\nand 'Herod.' It is almost as if he had said, 'Why, herein is a\nmarvellous thing, that you should have a quicker scent for rebellion\nthan I or Herod!' He was evidently suspicious of the motives which\ninduced the 'rulers' to take the new role of eager defenders of\nRoman authority, and ready to suspect something below such an\nextraordinary transformation. Jews delivering up a Jew because he\nwas an insurgent against Caesar,--there must be something under\nthat! He lays stress on their having heard his examination of the\naccused, as showing that he had gone into the matter thoroughly,\nthat the charges had broken down to their knowledge. He represents\nhis sending Jesus to Herod as done from the high motive of securing\nthe completest possible investigation, instead of its being a\ndespicable attempt to shirk responsibility and to pay an empty\ncompliment to an enemy. He reiterates his conviction of Jesus'\ninnocence, and then, after all this flourish about his own\ncarefulness to bring judicial impartiality to bear on the case, he\nmakes the lame and impotent conclusion of offering to 'chastise\nHim.'\n\nWhat for? The only course for a judge convinced of a prisoner's\ninnocence is to set him free. But this was a bribe to the accusers,\noffered in hope that the smaller punishment would content them.\nPilate knew that he was perpetrating flagrant injustice in such a\nsuggestion, and he tried to hide it by using a gentle word.\n'Chastise' sounds almost beneficent, but it would not make the\nscourging less cruel, nor its infliction less lawless. Compromises\nare always ticklish to engineer, but a compromise between justice\nand injustice is least likely of all to answer. This one signally\nfailed. The fierce accusers of Jesus were quick to see the sign of\nweakness, both in the proposal itself and in their being asked if it\nwould be acceptable to them. Not so should a Roman governor have\nspoken. If pressure had made the iron wall yield so far, a little\nmore and it would fall flat, and let them at their victim.\n\nPilate was weak, vacillating, did not know what he wished. He wished\nto do right, but he wished more to conciliate, for he knew that he\nwas detested, and feared to be accused to Rome. The other side knew\nwhat they wanted, and were resolute. Encouraged by the hesitation\nof Pilate, they 'cried out all together.' One hears the strident\nyells from a thousand throats shrieking out the self-revealing and\nself-destroying choice of Barabbas. He was a popular hero for the\nvery reason that he was a rebel. He had done what his admirers had\naccused Jesus of doing, and for which they pretended that they had\nsubmitted Him to Pilate's judgment. The choice of Barabbas convicts\nthe charges against Jesus of falsehood and unreality. The choice of\nBarabbas reveals the national ideal. They did not want a Messiah\nlike Jesus, and had no eyes for the beauty of His character, nor\nears for the words of grace poured into His lips. They had no\nhorror of 'a murderer,' and great admiration for a rebel. Barabbas\nwas the man after their own heart. A nation that can reject Jesus\nand choose Barabbas is only fit for destruction. A nation judges\nitself by its choice of heroes. The national ideal is potent to\nshape the national character. We to-day are sinking into an abyss\nbecause of our admiration for the military type of hero; and there\nis not such an immense difference between the mob that rejected\nJesus and applauded Barabbas and the mobs that shout round a\nsuccessful soldier, and scoff at the law of Christ if applied to\npolitics.\n\nII. The second, weaker attempt.\n\nPilate repeated his proposal of release, but it was all but lost in\nthe roar of hatred. Note the contrast between 'Pilate spoke' (v. 20)\nand 'they shouted.' It suggests his feeble effort swept away by the\nrush of ferocity. And they have gathered boldness from his\nhesitation, and are now prescribing the mode of Christ's punishment.\nNow first the terrible word 'Crucify' is heard. Both Matthew and\nMark tell us that the priests and rulers had 'stirred up' the people\nto choose Barabbas, but apparently the mob, once roused, needed no\nfurther stimulant.\n\nCrowds are always cruel, and they are as fickle as cruel. The very\nthroats now hoarse with fiercely roaring 'Crucify Him' had been\nstrained by shouting 'Hosanna' less than a week since. The branches\nstrewed in His path had not had time to wither. 'The voice of the\npeople is the voice of God,'--sometimes. But sometimes it sounds\nvery like the voice of the enemy of God, and one would have more\nconfidence in it if it did not so often and so quickly speak, not\nonly 'in divers,' but in diverse, 'manners.' To make it the arbiter\nof men's merit, still more to trim one's course so as to catch the\nbreeze of the popular breath, is folly, or worse. Men admire what\nthey resemble, or try to resemble, and Barabbas has more of his sort\nthan has Jesus.\n\nIII. The final yielding.\n\nIt is to Pilate's credit that he kept up his efforts so long. Luke\nwishes to impress us with his persistency, as well as with the fixed\ndetermination of the Jews, by his note of 'the third time.' Thrice was\nthe choice offered to them, and thrice did they put away the possibility\nof averting their doom. But Pilate's persistency had a weak place, for\nhe was afraid of his subjects, and, while willing to save Jesus, was\nnot willing to imperil himself in doing it. Self-interest takes the\nstrength out of resolution to do right, like a crumbling stone in a\nsea wall, which lets in the wave that ruins the whole structure.\n\nPilate had come to the end of his shifts to escape pronouncing\nsentence. The rulers had refused to judge Jesus according to their\nlaw. Herod had sent Him back with thanks, but unsentenced. The Jews\nwould not have Him, but Barabbas, released, nor would they accept\nscourging in lieu of crucifying. So he has to decide at last whether\nto be just and fear not, or basely to give way, and draw down on his\nhead momentary applause at the price of everlasting horror. Luke\nnotices in all three stages the loud cries of the Jews, and in this\nlast one he gives special emphasis to them. 'Their voices\nprevailed.' What a condemnation for a judge! He 'gave sentence that\nwhat they asked for should be done.' Baseness in a judge could go no\nfarther. The repetition of the characterisation of Barabbas brings\nup once more the hideousness of the people's choice, and the tragic\nwords 'to their will' sets in a ghastly light the flagrant injustice\nof the judge, and yet greater crime of the Jews. To deliver Jesus to\ntheir will was base; to entertain such a 'will' towards Jesus was\nmore than base,--it was 'the ruin of them, and of all Israel.' Our\nwhole lives here and hereafter turn on what is our 'will' to Him.\n\n\n\n\nWORDS FROM THE CROSS\n\n\n    'And when they were come to the place which is called\n    Calvary, there they crucified Him, and the malefactors,\n    one on the right hand, and the other on the left.\n    34. Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they\n    know not what they do. And they parted His raiment,\n    and cast lots. 35. And the people stood beholding. And\n    the rulers also with them derided Him, saying, He saved\n    others; let Him save Himself, if He be Christ, the\n    chosen of God. 36. And the soldiers also mocked Him,\n    coming to Him and offering Him vinegar. 37. And saying,\n    if Thou be the king of the Jews, save Thyself. 38. And\n    a superscription also was written over Him in letters\n    of Greek, and Latin, and Hebrew, THIS IS THE KING OF\n    THE JEWS. 39. And one of the malefactors which were\n    hanged railed on Him, saying, If Thou be Christ, save\n    Thyself and us. 40. But the other answering rebuked\n    him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art\n    in the same condemnation? 41. And we indeed justly;\n    for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this\n    Man hath done nothing amiss. 42. And he said unto\n    Jesus, Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy\n    kingdom. 43. And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say\n    unto thee, To-day shall thou be with Me in paradise.\n    44. And it was about the sixth hour, and there was\n    darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour.\n    45. And the sun was darkened, and the vail of the\n    temple was rent in the midst. 46. And when Jesus had\n    cried with a loud voice, He said, Father, into Thy\n    hands I commend My spirit: and having said thus, He\n    gave up the ghost.'--LUKE xxiii. 33-46.\n\nThe calm tone of all the narratives of the Crucifixion is very\nremarkable. Each Evangelist limits himself to the bare recording of\nfacts, without a trace of emotion. They felt too deeply to show\nfeeling. It was fitting that the story which, till the end of time,\nwas to move hearts to a passion of love and devotion, should be told\nwithout any colouring. Let us beware of reading it coldly! This\npassage is more adapted to be pondered in solitude, with the\nthought, 'All this was borne for me,' than to be commented on. But a\nreverent word or two is permissible.\n\nLuke's account is noticeably independent of the other three. The\nthree sayings of Christ's, round which his narrative is grouped, are\npreserved by him alone. We shall best grasp the dominant impression\nwhich the Evangelist unconsciously had himself received, and sought\nto convey, by gathering the whole  round these three words from the\nCross.\n\nI. The first word sets Jesus forth as the all-merciful Intercessor\nand patient friend of sinners. It is very significantly set in the\ncentre of the paragraph (vs. 33-38) which recounts the heartless\ncruelty and mockery of soldiers and rulers. Surrounded by that\nwhirlwind of abuse, contempt and ferocious glee at His sufferings,\nHe gave back no taunt, nor uttered any cry of pain, nor was moved to\nthe faintest anger, but let His heart go out in pity for all who\ntook part in that wicked tragedy; and, while 'He opened not His\nmouth' in complaint or reviling, He did open it in intercession. But\nthe wonderful prayer smote no heart with compunction, and, after it,\nthe storm of mocking and savage triumph hurtled on as before.\n\nLuke gathers all the details together in summary fashion, and piles\nthem on one another without enlarging on any. The effect produced is\nlike that of a succession of breakers beating on some lonely rock,\nor of blows struck by a battering-ram on a fortress.\n\n'They crucified Him,'--there is no need to say who 'they' were.\nOthers than the soldiers, who did the work, did the deed. Contempt\ngave Him two malefactors for companions and hung the King of the\nJews in the place of honour in the midst. Did John remember what his\nbrother and he had asked? Matter-of-fact indifference as to a piece\nof military duty, and shameless greed, impelled the legionaries to\ncast lots for the clothes stripped from a living man. What did the\ncrucifying of another Jew or two matter to them? Gaping curiosity,\nand the strange love of the horrible, so strong in the vulgar mind,\nled the people, who had been shouting Hosanna! less than a week ago,\nto stand gazing on the sight without pity but in a few hearts.\n\nThe bitter hatred of the rulers, and their inhuman glee at getting\nrid of a heretic, gave them bad preeminence in sin. Their scoff\nacknowledged that He had 'saved others,' and their hate had so\nblinded their eyes that they could not see how manifestly His\nrefusal to use His power to save Himself proved Him the Son of God.\nHe could not save Himself, just because He would save these scoffing\nRabbis and all the world. The rough soldiers knew little about Him,\nbut they followed suit, and thought it an excellent jest to bring\nthe 'vinegar,' provided in kindness, to Jesus with a mockery of\nreverence as to a king. The gibe was double-barrelled, like the\ninscription over the Cross; for it was meant to hit both this\nPretender to royalty and His alleged subjects.\n\nAnd to all this Christ's sole answer was the ever-memorable prayer.\nOne of the women who bravely stood at the Cross must have caught the\nperhaps low-voiced supplication, and it breathed so much of the\naspect of Christ's character in which Luke especially delights that\nhe could not leave it out. It opens many large questions which\ncannot be dealt with here. All sin has in it an element of\nignorance, but it is not wholly ignorance as some modern teachers\naffirm. If the ignorance were complete, the sin would be\nnonexistent. The persons covered by the ample folds of this prayer\nwere ignorant in very different degrees, and had had very different\nopportunities of changing ignorance for knowledge. The soldiers and\nthe rulers were in different positions in that respect. But none\nwere so entirely blind that they had no sin, and none were so\nentirely seeing that they were beyond the reach of Christ's pity or\nthe power of His intercession. In that prayer we learn, not only His\ninfinite forgivingness for insults and unbelief levelled at Himself,\nbut His exaltation as the Intercessor, whom the Father heareth\nalways. The dying Christ prayed for His enemies; the glorified\nChrist lives to make intercession for us.\n\nII. In the second saying Christ is revealed as having the keys of\nHades, the invisible world of the dead. How differently the same\ncircumstances work on different natures! In the one malefactor,\nphysical agony and despair found momentary relief in taunts, flung\nfrom lips dry with torture, at the fellow-sufferer whose very\ninnocence provoked hatred from the guilty heart. The other had been\nled by his punishment to recognise in it the due reward of his\ndeeds, and thus softened, had been moved by Christ's prayer, and by\nhis knowledge of Christ's innocence, to hope that the same mercy\nwhich had been lavished on the inflicters of His sufferings, might\nstretch to enfold the partakers in it.\n\nAt that moment the dying thief had clearer faith in Christ's coming\nin His kingdom than any of the disciples had. Their hopes were\ncrumbling as they watched Him hanging unresisting and gradually\ndying. But this man looked beyond the death so near for both Jesus\nand himself, and believed that, after it, He would come to reign. We\nmay call him the only disciple that Christ then had.\n\nHow pathetic is that petition, 'Remember me'! It builds the hope of\nsharing in Christ's royalty on the fact of having shared in His\nCross. 'Thou wilt not forget Thy companion in that black hour, which\nwill then lie behind us.' Such trust and clinging, joined with such\npenitence and submission, could not go unrewarded.\n\nFrom His Cross Jesus speaks in royal style, as monarch of that dim\nworld. His promise is sealed with His own sign-manual, 'Verily, I\nsay.' It claims to have not only the clear vision of, but the\nauthority to determine, the future. It declares the unbroken\ncontinuance of personal existence, and the reality of a state of\nconscious blessedness, in which men are aware of their union with\nHim, the Lord of the realm and the Life of its inhabitants. It\ngraciously accepts the penitent's petition, and assures him that\nthe companionship, begun on the Cross, will be continued there.\n'With Me' makes 'Paradise' wherever a soul is.\n\nIII. The third word from the Cross, as recorded by Luke, reveals\nJesus as, in the act of dying, the Master of death, and its\nTransformer for all who trust Him into a peaceful surrender of\nthemselves into the Father's hands. The circumstances grouped round\nthe act of His death bring out various aspects of its significance.\nThe darkness preceding had passed before He died, and it bore rather\non His sense of desertion, expressed in the unfathomably profound\nand awful cry, 'Why hast Thou forsaken Me?' The rent veil is\ngenerally taken to symbolise the unrestricted access into the\npresence of God, which we have through Christ's death; but it is\nworth considering whether it does not rather indicate the divine\nleaving of the desecrated shrine, and so is the beginning of the\nfulfilment of the deep word, 'Destroy this Temple.'\n\nBut the centre-point of the section is the last cry which, in its\nloudness, indicated physical strength quite incompatible with the\nexhaustion to which death by crucifixion was generally due. It thus\nconfirms the view which sees, both in the words of Jesus and in the\nEvangelist's expression for His death, clear indications that He\ndied, not because His physical powers were unable to live longer,\nbut by the exercise of His own volition. He died because He chose,\nand He chose because He loved and would save. As St. Bernard says,\n'Who is He who thus easily falls asleep when He wills? To die is\nindeed great weakness, but to die thus is immeasurable power. Truly\nthe weakness of God is stronger than men.'\n\nNor let us forget that, in thus dying, Jesus gave us an imitable\nexample, as well as revealed inimitable power. For, if we trust\nourselves, living and dying, to Him, we shall not be dragged\nreluctantly, by an overmastering grasp against which we vainly\nstruggle, out of a world where we would fain stay, but we may\nyield ourselves willingly, as to a Father's hand, which draws His\nchildren gently to His own side, and blesses them, when there, with\nHis fuller presence.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DYING THIEF\n\n\n    'And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when Thou\n    comest into Thy kingdom.'--LUKE xxiii, 42.\n\nThere is an old and true division of the work of Christ into three\nparts--prophet, priest, and king. Such a distinction manifestly\nexists, though it may be overestimated, or rather, the statement of\nit may be exaggerated, if it be supposed that separate acts of His\ndischarge these separate functions, and that He ceases to be the one\nbefore He becomes the other. Rather it is true that all His work is\nprophetic, that all His work is priestly, and that His prophetic and\npriestly work is the exercise of His kingly authority. But still the\ndivision is a true one, and helps to set before us, clearly and\ndefinitely, the wide range of the benefits of Christ's mission and\ndeath. It is noteworthy that these three groups round the Cross, the\nthird of which we have to speak of now--that of the 'daughters of\nJerusalem,' that of the deriding scribes and the indifferent\nsoldiers, and this one of the two thieves--each presents us Christ\nin one of the three characters. The words that He spoke upon the\nCross, with reference to others than Himself, may be gathered\naround, and arranged under, that threefold aspect of Christ's work.\nThe _prophet_ said, 'Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for Me,\nbut weep for yourselves, for the days are coming.' The _priest_\nsaid, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. 'The\n_king_, in His sovereignty, ruled the heart of that penitent\nman from His Cross, and while the crown shone athwart the smoke and\nthe agony of the death, the king 'opened the gates of the kingdom\nof heaven unto all believers' when He said, 'This day shalt thou be\nwith Me in Paradise!'\n\nWe shall not attempt, in dealing with this incident, to paint\npictures. I have a far more important thing to do than even to try\nto bring vividly before your minds the scene on that little hill of\nCalvary. It is the meaning that we are concerned with, and not the\nmere externals. I take it for granted, then, that we know the\ndetails:--the dying man in his agony, beginning to see dimly, as his\nsoul closed upon earthly things, who this was--patient, loving,\nmighty there in His sufferings; and using his last breath to cry,\n'Lord, remember me!'--and the sufferer throned in the majesty of His\nmeekness, and divinity of His endurance; calm, conscious, full of\nfelt but silent power, accepting homage, bending to the penitence,\nloving the sinner, and flinging open the gates of the pale kingdoms\ninto which He was to pass, with these His last words.\n\nFirst, then, we see here an illustration of the Cross in its power\nof drawing men to itself. It is strange to think that, perhaps, at\nthat moment the only human being who thoroughly believed in Christ\nwas that dying robber. The disciples are all gone. The most faithful\nof them are recreant, denying, fleeing. A handful of women are\nstanding there, not knowing what to think about it, stunned but\nloving; and alone (as I suppose), alone of all the sons of men, the\ncrucified malefactor was in the sunshine of faith, and could say\n'I believe!' As everything of the future history of the world and of\nthe Gospel is typified in the events of the Crucifixion, it was\nfitting that here again and at the last there should be a prophetic\nfulfilment of His own saying, 'I, if I be lifted up, will draw all\nmen unto Me.'\n\nBut mark, here we have a striking instance of the universal law of\nthe progress of the Gospel, in the two-fold effort of the\ncontemplation of the Cross. By its foot was to be seen the derision\nof the scribes and the stupor of the soldiery; and now here are the\ntwo thieves--the one chiming in with the universal reproaches; and\nthe other beholding the same event, having the same circumstances\ndisplayed before him, and they influence him _thus_. Brethren,\nit is just the history of the Gospel wherever it goes. It is its\nhistory now, and among us. The Gospel is preached equally to every\nman. The same message comes to us all, offering us the same terms.\nChrist stands before each of us in the same attitude. And what is\nthe consequence? A parting of the whole mass of us, some to one side\nand some to the other. So, when you take a magnet, and hold it to an\nindiscriminate heap of metal filings, it will gather out all the\niron, and leave behind all the rest. 'I, if I be lifted up,' said\nHe, 'will draw all men unto Me.' The attractive power will go out\nover the whole race of His brethren; but from some there will be no\nresponse. In some hearts there will be no yielding to the\nattraction. Some will remain rooted, obstinate, steadfast in their\nplace; and to some the lightest word will be mighty enough to stir\nall the slumbering pulses of their sin-ridden hearts, and to bring\nthem, broken and penitent, for mercy to His feet. To the one He is\n'a savour of life unto life, and to the other a savour of death unto\ndeath.' The broadest doctrine of the universal adaptation, and the\nuniversal intention too, of the Gospel, as the 'power of God unto\nsalvation,' contains hidden in its depths this undeniable fact,\nthat, be the cause what it may (and as I believe, the cause lies\nwith us, and is our fault) this separating, judging effect follows\nfrom all faithful preaching of Christ's words. He came to judge the\nworld, 'that they which see not' (as He Himself said) 'might see,\nand they which see might be made blind,' And on the Cross that\nprocess went on in two men, alike in necessity, alike in\ncriminality, alike in this, that Death's icy finger was just being\nlaid upon their heart, to stop all the flow of its wild blood and\npassion, but different in this, that the one of them turned himself,\nby God's grace, and laid hold on the Gospel that was offered to him,\nand the other turned himself away, and derided, and died.\n\nAnd now, there is another consideration. If we look at this man,  this\npenitent thief, and contrast him, his previous history, and his present\nfeelings, with the people that stood around, and rejected and scoffed,\nwe get some light as to the sort of thing that unfits men for perceiving\nand accepting the Gospel when it is offered to them. Remember the other\nclasses of persons who were there. There were Roman soldiers, with very\npartial knowledge of what they were doing, and whose only feeling was\nthat of entire indifference; and there were Jewish Rabbis, Pharisees,\nPriests, and people, who knew a little more of what they were doing,\nand whose feeling was derision and scorn. Now, if we mark the ordinary\nscriptural representation, especially as to the last class, we cannot\nhelp seeing that there comes out this principle:--The thing of all\nothers that unfits men for the reception of Christ as a Saviour, and\nfor the simple reliance on His atoning blood and divine mercy, is not\ngross, long profligacy, and outward, vehement transgression; but it is\nself-complacency, clean, fatal self-righteousness and self-sufficiency.\n\nWhy was it that Scribes and Pharisees turned away from Him? For\nthree reasons. Because of their pride of wisdom. 'We are the men who\nknow all about Moses and the traditions of the elders; we judge this\nnew phenomenon not by the question, How does it come to our\nconsciences, and how does it appeal to our hearts? but we judge it\nby the question, How does it fit our Rabbinical learning and subtle\ncasuistical laws? _We_ are the Priests and the Scribes; and the\npeople that know not the law, _they_ may accept a thing that\nonly appeals to the common human heart, but for us, in our\nintellectual superiority, living remote from the common wants of the\nlower class, not needing a rough outward Gospel of that sort, we can\ndo without such a thing, and we reject it.' They turned away from\nthe Cross, and their hatred darkened into derision, and their\nmenaces ended in a crucifixion, not merely because of a pride of\nwisdom, but because of a complacent self-righteousness that knew\nnothing of the fact of sin, that never had learned to believe itself\nto be full of evil, that had got so wrapped up in ceremonies as to\nhave lost the life; that had degraded the divine law of God, with\nall its lightning splendours, and awful power, into a matter of\n'mint and anise and cummin.' They turned away for a third reason.\nReligion had become to them a mere set of traditional dogmas, to\nthink accurately or to reason clearly about which was all that was\nneedful. Worship having become ceremonial, and morality having\nbecome casuistry, and religion having become theology, the men were\nas hard as a nether millstone, and there was nothing to be done with\nthem until these three crusts were peeled off the heart, and, close\nand burning, the naked heart and the naked truth of God came into\ncontact.\n\nBrethren, change the name, and the story is true about _us_.\nGod forbid that I should deny that every form of gross, sensual\nimmorality, 'hardens all within' (as one poor victim of it said),\n'and petrifies the feeling.' God forbid that I should seem to be\nspeaking slightingly of the exceeding sinfulness of such sin, or to\nbe pouring contempt upon the laws of common morality. Do not\nmisapprehend me so. Still it is not sin in its outward forms that\nmakes the worst impediment between a man and the Cross, but it is\nsin plus self-righteousness which makes the insurmountable obstacle\nto all faith and repentance. And oh! in our days, when passion is\ntamed down by so many bonds and chains; when the power of society\nlies upon all of us, prescribing our path, and keeping most of us\nfrom vice, partly because we are not tempted, and partly because we\nhave been brought up like some young trees behind a wall, within the\nfence of decent customs and respectable manners,--we have far more\nneed to tell orderly, respectable moral men--'My brother, that thing\nthat you have is worth nothing, as settling your position before God';\nthan to stand up and thunder about crimes which half of us never heard\nof, and perhaps only an infinitesimal percentage of us have ever\ncommitted. All sin separates from God, but the thing that makes the\nseparation permanent is not the sin, but the ignorance of the sin.\nSelf-righteousness, aye, and pride of wisdom, they--they have perverted\nmany a nature, many a young man's glowing spirit, and have turned him\naway from the Gospel. If there be a man here who is looking at the\nsimple message of peace and pardon and purity through Christ, and is\nsaying to himself, Yes; it may fit the common class of minds that\nrequire outward signs and symbols, and must pin their faith to forms;\nbut for me with my culture, for me with my spiritual tendencies, for\nme with my new lights, _I_ do not want any objective redemption;\n_I_ do not want anything to convince _me_ of a divine love, and I\ndo not need any crucified Saviour to preach to _me_ that God is\nmerciful!--this incident before us has a very solemn lesson in it for\nhim. And if there be a man here who is living a life of surface\nblamelessness, it has as solemn a lesson for him. Look at the Scribe,\nand look at the Pharisee--religious men in their way, wise men in\ntheir way, decent and respectable men in their way; and look at that\npoor thief that had been caught in the wilderness amongst the caves\nand dens, and had been brought red-handed with blood upon his sword,\nand guilt in his heart, and nailed up there in the short and summary\nprocess of a Roman jurisprudence;--and think that Scribe, and Pharisee,\nand Priest, saw nothing in Christ; and that the poor profligate wretch\nsaw this in Him,--innocence that showed heavenly against his diabolical\nblackness; and his heart stirred, and he laid hold of Him in the stress\nof his mighty agony--as a drowning man catches at anything that\nprotrudes from the bank; and he held and shook it, and the thing was\nfast, and he was safe! Not transgression shuts a man out from mercy.\nTransgression, which belongs to us all, makes us subjects for the\nmercy; but it is pride, self-righteousness, trust in ourselves, which\n'bars the gates of mercy on mankind'; and the men that _are_ condemned\nare condemned not only because they have transgressed the commandments\nof God, but '_this_ is the condemnation, that light came into the\nworld, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds\nwere evil.'\n\nAnd then (and but a word) we see here, too, the elements of which\nacceptable faith consists. One does not exactly know by what steps\nor through what process this poor dying thief passed, which issued\nin faith--whether it was an impression from Christ's presence,\nwhether it was that he had ever heard anything about Him before, or\nwhether it was only that the wisdom which dwells with death was\nbeginning to clear his eyes as life ebbed away. But however he\n_came_ to the conviction, mark what it was that he believed and\nexpressed,--I am a sinful man; all punishment that comes down upon me\nis richly deserved: This man is pure and righteous; 'Lord, remember\nme when Thou comest into Thy kingdom!' That is all--that is all. That\nis the thing that saves a man. How much he _did_ know--whether he\nknew all the depth of what he was saying, when he said 'Lord!' is a\nquestion that we cannot answer; whether he understood what the\n'kingdom' was that he was expecting, is a question that we cannot\nsolve; but this is clear--the intellectual part of faith may be dark\nand doubtful, but the moral and emotional part of it is manifest and\nplain. There was, '_I_ am nothing--_Thou_ art everything: I bring\nmyself and my emptiness unto Thy great fullness: fill it and make me\nblessed!' Faith has that. Faith has in it repentance--repentance has in\nit faith too. Faith has in it the recognition of the certainty and the\njustice of a judgment that is coming down crashing upon every human\nhead; and then from the midst of these fears, and sorrows, and the\ntempest of that great darkness, there rises up in the night of terrors,\nthe shining of one perhaps pale, quivering, distant, but divinely given\nhope, 'My Saviour! My Saviour! He is righteous: He has died--He lives!\nI will stay no longer; I will cast myself upon Him!'\n\nOnce more--this incident reminds us not only of the attractive power\nof the Cross, but of the prophetic power of the Cross. We have here\nthe Cross as pointing to and foretelling the Kingdom. Pointing out,\nand foretelling: that is to say, of course, and only, if we accept\nthe scriptural statement of what these sufferings were, the Person\nthat endured them, and the meaning of their being endured. But the\nonly thing I would dwell upon here, is, that when we think of Christ\nas dying for us, we are never to separate it from that other solemn\nand future coming of which this poor robber catches a glimpse. They\ncrowned Him with thorns, and they gave Him a reed for His sceptre.\nThat mockery, so natural to the strong practical Romans in dealing\nwith one whom they thought a harmless enthusiast, was a symbol which\nthey who did it little dreamed of. The crown of thorns proclaims a\nsovereignty founded on sufferings. The sceptre of feeble reed speaks\nof power wielded in gentleness. The Cross leads to the crown. The\nbrow that was pierced by the sharp acanthus wreath, therefore wears\nthe diadem of the universe. The hand that passively held the mockery\nof the worthless, pithless reed, therefore rules the princes of the\nearth with the rod of iron. He who was lifted up to the Cross, was,\nby that very act, lifted up to be a Ruler and Commander to the\npeoples. For the death of the Cross God hath highly exalted Him to\nbe a Prince and a Saviour. The way to glory for Him, the power by\nwhich He wields the kingdom of the world, is precisely through the\nsuffering. And therefore, whensoever there arises before us the\nimage of the one, oh! let there rise before us likewise the image of\nthe other. The Cross links on to the kingdom--the kingdom lights up\nthe Cross. My brother, the Saviour comes--the Saviour comes a King.\nThe Saviour that comes a King is the Saviour that has been here and\nwas crucified. The kingdom that He establishes is all full of\nblessing, and love, and gentleness; and to us (if we will unite the\nthoughts of Cross and Crown) there is opened up not only the\npossibility of having boldness before Him in the day of judgment,\nbut there is opened up this likewise--the certainty that He 'shall\nreceive of the travail of His soul and be satisfied.' Oh, remember\nthat as certain as the historical fact--He died on Calvary; so\ncertain is the prophetic fact--He shall reign, and you and I will\nstand there! I durst not touch that subject. Take it into your own\nhearts; and think about it--a kingdom, a judgment-seat, a crown, a\ngathered universe; separation, decision, execution of the sentence.\nAnd oh! ask yourselves, 'When that gentle eye, with lightning in its\ndepths, falls upon _me_, individualises _me_, summons out _me_ to its\nbar--how shall I stand?' 'Herein is our love made perfect, that we may\nhave boldness before Him in the day of judgment,' 'Lord, remember me\nwhen Thou comest into Thy kingdom.'\n\nFinally. Here is the Cross as revealing and opening the true\nParadise.--'This day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.' We have no\nconcern at present with the many subtle inferences as to the state\nof the dead, and as to the condition of our Lord's human spirit before\nthe Resurrection, which have been drawn from these words. To me they\ndo seem fairly to bear the broad and single conclusion that the spirits\nof the saved do enter at death into a state of conscious presence with\ntheir Saviour, and therefore of joy and felicity. But beyond this we\nhave no firm ground for going. It is of more practical worth to note\nthat the penitent's vague prayer is answered, and over-answered. He\nasks, 'When Thou comest'--whensoever that may be--'remember me.' 'I\nshall stand afar off; do not let me be utterly forgotten.' Christ\nanswers--'Remember thee! thou shalt be _with Me_, close to My side.\nRemember thee _when_ I come!--_this day_ shalt thou be with Me.'\n\nAnd what a contrast that is--the conscious blessedness rushing in\nclose upon the heels of the momentary darkness of death. At the one\nmoment there hangs the thief writhing in mortal agony; the wild\nshouts of the fierce mob at his feet are growing faint upon his ear;\nthe city spread out at his feet, and all the familiar  sights of\nearth are growing dim to his filmy eye. The soldier's spear comes,\nthe legs are broken, and in an instant there hangs a relaxed corpse;\nand the spirit, the spirit--is where? Ah! how far away; released\nfrom all its sin and its sore agony, struggling up at once into such\nstrange divine enlargement, a new star swimming into the firmament\nof heaven, a new face before the throne of God, another sinner\nredeemed from earth! The conscious immediate blessedness of the\ndeparted--be he what he may, be his life whatsoever it may have\nbeen--who at last, dark, sinful, standing with one foot on the verge\nof eternity, and poising himself for the flight, flings himself into\nthe arms of Christ--the everlasting blessedness, the Christ-presence\nand the Christ-gladness, that is the message that the robber leaves\nto us from his cross. Paradise is opened to us again. The Cross is\nthe true 'tree of life.' The flaming cherubim, and the sword that\nturneth every way, are gone, and the broad road into the city, the\nParadise of God, with all its beauties and all its peaceful joy--a\nbetter Paradise, 'a statelier Eden,' than that which we have lost,\nis flung open to us for ever.\n\nDo not trust a death-bed repentance, my brother. I have stood by\nmany a death-bed, and few indeed have they been where I could have\nbelieved that the man was in a condition physically (to say nothing\nof anything else) clearly to see and grasp the message of the\nGospel. There is no limit to the mercy. I know that God's mercy is\nboundless. I know that 'whilst there is life there is hope.' I know\nthat a man, going--swept down that great Niagara--if, before his\nlittle skiff tilts over into the awful rapids, he can make one great\nbound with all his strength, and reach the solid ground--I know he\nmay be saved. It is an awful risk to run. A moment's miscalculation,\nand skiff and voyager alike are whelming in the green chaos below,\nand come up mangled into nothing, far away down yonder upon the\nwhite turbulent foam. '_One_ was saved upon the Cross,' as the\nold divines used to tell us, 'that none might despair; and only one,\nthat none might presume.' _'Now_ is the accepted time, and\n_now_ is the day of salvation!'\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST EASTER SUNRISE\n\n\n    'Now, upon the first day of the week, very early in\n    the morning, they came onto the sepulchre, bringing\n    the spices which they had prepared, and certain others\n    with them. 2. And they found the stone rolled away\n    from the sepulchre. 3. And they entered in, and found\n    not the body of the Lord Jesus. 4. And it came to pass,\n    as they were much perplexed thereabout, behold, two\n    men stood by them in shining garments: 5. And as they\n    were afraid, and bowed down their faces to the earth,\n    they said unto them, Why seek ye the living among the\n    dead? 6. He is not here, but is risen: remember how He\n    spake unto you when He was yet in Galilee, 7. Saying,\n    The Son of man must be delivered into the hands of\n    sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise\n    again. 8. And they remembered His words, 9. And\n    returned from the sepulchre, and told all these things\n    unto the eleven, and to all the rest. 10. It was Mary\n    Magdalene, and Joanna, and Mary the mother of James,\n    and other women that were with them, which told these\n    things unto the apostles. 11. And their words seemed\n    to them as idle tales, and they believed them not.\n    12. Then arose Peter, and ran unto the sepulchre; and\n    stooping down, he beheld the linen clothes laid by\n    themselves, and departed, wondering in himself at that\n    which was come to pass.'--LUKE xxiv. 1-12.\n\nNo Evangelist narrates the act of Resurrection. Apocryphal Gospels\ncannot resist the temptation of describing it. Why did the Four\npreserve such singular reticence about what would have been\nirresistible to 'myth' makers? Because they were not myth-makers,\nbut witnesses, and had nothing to say as to an act that no man had\nseen. No doubt, the Resurrection took place in the earliest hours of\nthe first day of the week. The Sun of Righteousness rose before the\nEaster Day sun. It was midsummer day for Him, while it was but\nspring for earth's calendar. That early rising has no setting to\nfollow.\n\nThe divergences of the Evangelists reach their maximum in the accounts\nof the Resurrection, as is natural if we realise the fragmentary\ncharacter of all the versions, the severely condensed style of\nMatthew's, the incompleteness of the genuine Mark's, the evidently\nselective purpose in Luke's, and the supplementary design of John's.\nIf we add the perturbed state of the disciples, their separation from\neach other, and the number of distinct incidents embraced in the\nrecords, we shall not wonder at the differences, but see in them\nconfirmation of the good faith of the witnesses, and a reflection of\nthe hurry and wonderfulness of that momentous day. Differences there\nare; contradictions there are not, except between the doubtful verses\nadded to Mark and the other accounts. We cannot put all the pieces\ntogether, when we have only them to guide us. If we had a complete\nand independent narrative to go by, we could, no doubt, arrange our\nfragments. But the great certainties are unaffected by the small\ndivergences, and the points of agreement are vital. They are, for\nexample, that none saw the Resurrection, that the first to know of\nit were the women, that angels appeared to them at the tomb, that\nJesus showed Himself first to Mary Magdalene, that the reports of the\nResurrection were not believed. Whether the group with whom this\npassage has to do were the same as that whose experience Matthew\nrecords we leave undetermined. If so, they must have made two visits\nto the tomb, and two returns to the Apostles,--one, with only the\ntidings of the empty sepulchre, which Luke tells; one, with the\ntidings of Christ's appearance, as in Matthew. But harmonistic\nconsiderations do not need to detain us at present.\n\nSorrow and love are light sleepers, and early dawn found the brave\nwomen on their way. Nicodemus had bound spices in with the body, and\nthese women's love-gift was as 'useless' and as fragrant as Mary's\nbox of ointment. Whatever love offers, love welcomes, though Judas\nmay ask 'To what purpose is this waste?' Angel hands had rolled away\nthe stone, not to allow of Jesus' exit, for He had risen while it\nwas in its place, but to permit the entrance of the 'witnesses of\nthe Resurrection.' So little did these women dream of such a thing\nthat the empty tomb brought no flash of joy, but only perplexity to\ntheir wistful gaze. 'What does it mean?' was their thought. They and\nall the disciples expected nothing less than they did a Resurrection,\ntherefore their testimony to it is the more reliable.\n\nLuke marks the appearance of the angels as sudden by that 'behold.'\nThey were not seen approaching, but at one moment the bewildered\nwomen were alone, looking at each other with faces of dreary wonder,\nand the next, 'two men' were standing beside them, and the tomb was\nlighted by the sheen of their dazzling robes. Much foolish fuss has\nbeen made about the varying reports of the angels, and 'contradictions'\nhave been found in the facts that some saw them and some did not, that\nsome saw one and some saw two, that some saw them seated and some saw\nthem standing, and so on. We know so little of the laws that govern\nangelic appearances that our opinion as to the probability or veracity\nof the accounts is mere guess-work. Where should a flight of angels\nhave gathered and hovered if not there? And should they not 'sit in\norder serviceable' about the tomb, as around the 'stable' at Bethlehem?\nTheir function was to prepare a way in the hearts of the women for the\nLord Himself, to lessen the shock,--for sudden joy shocks and may\nhurt,--as well as to witness that these 'things angels desire to look\ninto.'\n\nTheir message flooded the women's hearts with better light than\ntheir garments had spread through the tomb. Luke's version of it\nagrees with Mark and Matthew in the all-important central part, 'He\nis not here, but is risen' (though these words in Luke are not\nbeyond doubt), but diverges from them otherwise. Surely the message\nwas not the mere curt announcement preserved by any one of the\nEvangelists. We may well believe that much more was said than any or\nall of them have recorded. The angels' question is half a rebuke,\nwholly a revelation, of the essential nature of 'the Living One,'\nwho was so from all eternity, but is declared to be so by His\nrising, of the incongruity of supposing that He could be gathered\nto, and remain with, the dim company of the dead, and a blessed\nword, which turns sorrow into hope, and diverts sad eyes from the\ngrave to the skies, for all the ages since and to come. The angels\nrecall Christ's prophecies of death and resurrection, which, like so\nmany of His words to the disciples and to us, had been heard, and\nnot heard, being neglected or misinterpreted. They had questioned\n'what the rising from the dead should mean,' never supposing that it\nmeant exactly what it said. That way of dealing with Christ's words\ndid not end on the Easter morning, but is still too often practised.\n\nIf we are to follow Luke's account, we must recognise that the women\nin a company, as well as Mary Magdalene separately, came back first\nwith the announcement of the empty tomb and the angels' message, and\nlater with the full announcement of having seen the Lord. But apart\nfrom the complexities of attempted combination of the narratives,\nthe main point in all the Evangelists is the disbelief of the\ndisciples, 'Idle tales,' said they, using a very strong word which\nappears only here in the New Testament, and likens the eager story\nof the excited women to a sick man's senseless ramblings. That was\nthe mood of the whole company, apostles and all. Is that mood likely\nto breed hallucinations? The evidential value of the disciples'\nslowness to believe cannot be overrated.\n\nPeter's race to the sepulchre, in verse 12 of Luke xxiv., is omitted\nby several good authorities, and is, perhaps, spurious here. If\nallowed to stand as Luke's, it seems to show that the Evangelist had\na less complete knowledge of the facts than John. Mark, Peter's\n'interpreter,' has told us of the special message to him from the\nrisen, but as yet unseen, Lord, and we may well believe that that\nquickened his speed. The assurance of forgiveness and the hope of a\npossible future that might cover over the cowardly past, with the\nyearning to sob his heart out on the Lord's breast, sent him swiftly\nto the tomb. Luke does not say that he went in, as John, with one of\nhis fine touches, which bring out character in a word, tells us that\nhe did; but he agrees with John in describing the effect of what\nPeter saw as being only 'wonder,' and the result as being only that\nhe went away pondering over it all, and not yet able to grasp the\njoy of the transcendent fact. Perhaps, if he had not had a troubled\nconscience, he would have had a quicker faith. He was not given to\nhesitation, but his sin darkened his mind. He needed that secret\ninterview, of which many knew the fact but none the details, ere he\ncould feel the full glow of the Risen Sun thawing his heart and\nscattering his doubts like morning mists on the hills.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIVING DEAD\n\n\n    'Why seek ye the living among the dead! 6. He is not\n    here, but is risen.'--LUKE xxiv. 5,6.\n\nWe can never understand the utter desolation of the days that lay\nbetwixt Christ's Death and His Resurrection. Our faith rests on\ncenturies. We know that that grave was not even an interruption to\nthe progress of His work, but was the straight road to His triumph\nand His glory. We know that it was the completion of the work of\nwhich the raising of the widow's son and of Lazarus were but the\nbeginnings. But these disciples did not know that. To them the\ninferior miracles by which He had redeemed others from the power of\nthe grave, must have made His own captivity to it all the more\nstunning; and the thought which such miracles ending so must have\nleft upon them, must have been something like, 'He saved others;\nHimself He cannot save.' And therefore we can never think ourselves\nfully back to that burst of strange sudden thankfulness with which\nthese weeping Marys found those two calm angel forms sitting with\nfolded wings, like the Cherubim over the Mercy-seat, but\novershadowing a better propitiation, and heard the words of my text,\n'Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is\nrisen.'\n\nBut yet, although the words before us, in the full depth and\npreciousness of their meaning, of course could only be once\nfulfilled, we may not only gather from them thoughts concerning that\none death and resurrection, but we may likewise apply them, in a\nvery permissible modification of meaning, to the present condition\nof all who have departed in His faith and fear; since for us, too,\nit is true that, whenever we go to an open grave, sorrowing for those\nwhom we love, or oppressed with the burden of mortality in any shape,\nif our eyes are anointed, we can see there sitting the quiet angel\nforms; and if our ears be purged from the noise of earth, we can hear\nthem saying to us, in regard to all that have gone away, 'Why seek ye\nthe living in these graves? They are not here; they are risen, as He\nsaid.' The thoughts are very old, brethren. God be thanked that they\n_are_ old! Perhaps to some of you they may come now with new power,\nbecause they come with new application to your own present condition.\nPerhaps to some of you they may sound very weak, and 'words weaker\nthan your grief will make grief more';--but such as they are, let us\nlook at them for a moment or two together now.\n\nThe first thought, then, that these words of the angel messengers,\nand the scene in which we find them, suggest, is this--The dead are\nthe living.\n\nLanguage, which is more accustomed and adapted to express the\nappearances than the realities of things, leads us astray very much\nwhen we use the phrase 'the dead' as if it expressed the continuance\nof the condition into which men pass in the act of dissolution. It\nmisleads us no less, when we use it as if it expressed in itself the\nwhole truth even as to that act of dissolution. 'The dead' and 'the\nliving' are not names of two classes which exclude each other. Much\nrather, there are _none_ who are _dead_. The dead are the living who\nhave died. Whilst they were dying they lived, and after they were dead\nthey lived more fully. All live unto God. 'God is not the God of the\ndead, but of the living.' Oh, how solemnly sometimes that thought comes\nup before us, that all those past generations which have stormed across\nthis earth of ours, and then have fallen into still forgetfulness, live\nyet. Somewhere at this very instant, they now verily _are_! We say,\n'They _were_, they _have been_'. There are no have beens! Life is life\nfor ever. _To be_ is eternal being. Every man that has died is at this\ninstant in the full possession of all his faculties, in the intensest\nexercise of all his capacities, standing somewhere in God's great\nuniverse, ringed with the sense of God's presence, and feeling in\nevery fibre of his being that life, which comes after death, is not less\nreal, but more real, not less great, but more great, not less full or\nintense, but more full and intense, than the mingled life which, lived\nhere on earth, was a centre of life surrounded with a crust and\ncircumference of mortality. The dead are the living. They lived whilst\nthey died; and after they die, they live on for ever.\n\nSuch a conviction has as a matter of fact been firmly grasped as an\nunquestionable truth and a familiar operative belief only within the\nsphere of the Christian revelation. From the natural point of view\nthe whole region of the dead is 'a land of darkness, without any\norder, where the light is as darkness.' The usual sources of human\ncertainty fail us here. Reason is only able to stammer a\nperadventure. Experience and consciousness are silent. 'The simple\nsenses' can only say that it looks as if Death were an end, the\nfinal Omega. Testimony there is none from any pale lips that have\ncome back to unfold the secrets of the prison-house.\n\nThe history of Christ's Death and Resurrection, His dying words\n'_This day_ thou shalt be with Me in Paradise,' the full\nidentity of being with which He rose from the grave, the manhood\nchanged and yet the same, the intercourse of the forty days before\nHis ascension, which showed the continuance of all the old love\n'stronger than death,' and was in all essential points like His\nformer intercourse with His disciples, though changed in form and\nintroductory to the times when they should see Him no more in the\nflesh-these teach us, not as a peradventure, nor as a dim hope, nor\nas a strong foreboding which may be in its nature prophetic, but as\na certainty based upon a historical fact, that Death's empire is\npartial in its range and transitory in its duration. But, after we\nare convinced of that, we can look again with new eyes even on the\nexternal accompaniments of death, and see that sense is too hasty in\nits conclusion that death is the final end. There is no reason from\nwhat we see passing before our eyes then to believe, that it, with\nall its pitifulness and all its pain, has any power at all upon the\nsoul. True, the spirit gathers itself into itself, and, poising\nitself for its flight, becomes oblivious of what is passing round\nabout it. True, the tenant that is about to depart from the house in\nwhich he has dwelt so long, closes the windows before he goes. But\nwhat is there in the cessation of the power of communication with an\nouter world--what is there in the fact that you clasp the nerveless\nhand, and it returns no pressure; that you whisper gentle words that\nyou think might kindle a soul under the dull, cold ribs of death\nitself, and get no answer--that you look with weeping gaze to catch\nthe response of affection from out of the poor filmy, closing,\ntearless eyes there, and look in vain--what is there in all that to\nlead to the conviction that _the spirit_ is participant of that\nimpotence and silence? Is not the soul only self-centring itself,\nretiring from, the outposts, but not touched in the citadel? Is it\nnot only that as the long sleep of life begins to end, and the\nwaking eye of the soul begins to open itself on realities, the\nsights and sounds of the dream begin to pass away? Is it not but\nthat the man, in dying, begins to be what he fully is when he is\ndead, 'dead unto sin,' dead unto the world, that he may 'live unto\nGod' that he may live with God, that he may live really? And so we\ncan look upon that ending of life, and say, 'It is a very small\nthing; it only cuts off the fringes of my life, it does not touch\n_me_ at all' It only plays round about the husk, and does not\nget at the core. It only strips off the circumferential mortality,\nbut the soul rises up untouched by it, and shakes the bands of death\nfrom off its immortal arms, and flutters the stain of death from\noff its budding wings, and rises fuller of life _because of\ndeath_, and mightier in its vitality in the very act of\nsubmitting the body to the law, 'Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt\nthou return.'\n\nTouching but a part of the being, and touching that but for a\nmoment, death is no state, it is an act. It is not a condition, it\nis a transition. Men speak about life as 'a narrow neck of land,\nbetwixt two unbounded seas': they had better speak about death as\nthat. It is an isthmus, narrow and almost impalpable, on which, for\none brief instant, the soul poises itself; whilst behind it there\nlies the inland lake of past being, and before it the shoreless\nocean of future life, all lighted with the glory of God, and making\nmusic as it breaks even upon these dark, rough rocks. Death is but a\npassage. It is not a house, it is only a vestibule. The grave has a\ndoor on its inner side. We roll the stone to its mouth and come\naway, thinking that we have left them there till the Resurrection.\nBut when the outer access to earth is fast closed, the inner portal\nthat opens on heaven is set wide, and God says to His child, 'Come,\nenter into thy chambers and shut thy doors about thee ... until the\nindignation be overpast!' Death is a superficial thing, and a\ntransitory thing--a darkness that is caused by the light, and a\ndarkness that ends in the light--a trifle, if you measure it by\nduration; a trifle if you measure it by depth. The death of the mortal\nis the emancipation and the life of the immortal. Then, brethren, we\nmay go with the words of my text, and look upon every green hillock\nbelow which any that are dear to us are lying, and say to ourselves,\n'Not _here_--God be thanked, no--not here: living, and not dead;\n_yonder_, with the Master!' Oh, we think far too much of the grave,\nand far too little of the throne and the glory! We are far too much\nthe creatures of sense; and the accompaniments of dissolution and\ndeparture fill up our hearts and our eyes. Think them all away,\nbelieve them all away, love them all away. Stand in the light of\nChrist's life, and Christ's death, and Christ's rising, till you\nfeel, 'Thou art a shadow, not a substance--no real thing at all.'\nYes, a shadow; and where a shadow falls there must be sunlight above\nto cast it. Look up, then, above the shadow Death, above the sin and\nseparation from God, of which it is the shadow! Look up to the\nunsetting light of the Eternal life on the throne of the universe,\nand see bathed in it the living dead in Christ!\n\nGod has taken them to Himself, and we ought not to think (if we\nwould think as the Bible speaks) of death as being anything else\nthan the transitory thing which breaks down the brazen walls and\nlets us into liberty. For, indeed, if you will examine the New\nTestament on this subject, I think you will be surprised to find how\nvery seldom--scarcely ever--the word  'death' is employed to express\nthe mere fact of the dissolution of the connection between soul and\nbody. It is strange, but significant, that the Apostles, and Christ\nHimself, so rarely use the word to express that which we exclusively\nmean by it. They use all manner of other expressions as if they felt\nthat the _fact_ remains, but that all that made it death has\ngone away. In a real sense, and all the more real because the\nexternal fact continues, Christ 'hath abolished death.' Two men may go\ndown to the grave together: of one this may be the epitaph, 'He that\nbelieveth in Christ shall never die'; and of the other--passing through\nprecisely the same physical experience and appearance, the dissolution\nof soul and body, we may say,--'There, that is death--death as God\nsent it, to be the punishment of man's sin.' The outward fact remains\nthe same, the whole inner character of it is altered. As to them that\nbelieve, though they have passed through the experience of painful\nseparation--slow, languishing departure, or suddenly being caught up\nin some chariot of fire; not only are they living now, but they never\ndied at all! Have you understood 'death' in the full, pregnant sense\nof the expression, which means not only that _shadow_, the\nseparation of the body from the soul; but that _reality_, the\nseparation of the soul from life, because of the separation of the\nsoul from God?\n\nThen, secondly, this text, indeed the whole incident, may set before\nus the other consideration that since they have died, they live a\nbetter life than ours.\n\nI am not going to enter here, at any length, or very particularly,\ninto what seem to me to be the irrefragable scriptural grounds for\nholding the complete, uninterrupted, and even intensified\nconsciousness of the soul of man, in the interval between death and\nthe Resurrection. 'Absent from the body, present with the Lord.'\n'This day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.' These words, if there\nwere none other, are surely enough; seeing that of all that dark\nregion we know only what it pleases God to tell us in the Bible, and\nseeing that it does not please Him to give us more than hints and\nglimpses of any part of it. But putting aside all attempts to\nelaborate a full doctrine of the intermediate state from the few\nScripture expressions that bear on it, I merely allege, in general\nterms, that the present life of departed saints is fuller and nobler\nthan that which they possessed on earth. They are even now, whatever\nbe the details of their condition, 'the spirits of just men made\nperfect.' As yet the body is not glorified--but the spirits of the\nperfected righteous are now parts of that lofty society whose head\nis Christ, whose members are the angels of God, the saints on earth\nand the equally conscious redeemed who 'sleep in Jesus.'\n\nIn what particulars is their life now higher than it was? First,\nthey have close fellowship with Christ; then, they are separated\nfrom this present body of weakness, of dishonour, of corruption;\nthen, they are withdrawn from all the trouble, and toil, and care of\nthis present life; and then, and not least surely, they have death\nbehind them, not having that awful figure standing on their horizon\nwaiting for them to come up with it. These are some of the elements\nof the life of the sainted dead. What a wondrous advance on the life\nof earth they reveal if we think of them! They are closer to Christ;\nthey are delivered from the body, as a source of weakness; as a\nhinderer of knowledge;  as a dragger-down of all the aspiring\ntendencies of the soul; as a source of sin; as a source of pain.\nThey are delivered from all the necessity of labour which is agony,\nof labour which is disproportionate to strength, of labour which\noften ends in disappointment, of labour which is wasted so often in\nmere keeping life in, of labour which at the best is a curse, though\nit be a merciful curse too. They are delivered from that 'fear of\ndeath' which, though it be stripped of its sting, is never\nextinguished in any soul of man that lives; and they can smile at\nthe way in which that narrow and inevitable passage bulked so large\nbefore them all their days, and after all, when they came to it, was\nso slight and small! If these are parts of the life of them that\n'sleep in Jesus,' if they are fuller of knowledge, fuller of wisdom,\nfuller of love and capacity of love, and object of love; fuller of\nholiness, fuller of energy, and yet full of rest from head to foot;\nif all the hot tumult of earthly experience is stilled and quieted,\nall the fever beating of this blood of ours for ever at an end; all\nthe 'slings and arrows of outrageous fortune' done with for ever,\nand if the calm face which we looked last upon, and out of which the\nlines of sorrow, and pain, and sickness melted away, giving it a\nnobler nobleness than we had ever seen upon it in life, is only an\nimage of the restful and more blessed being into which they have\npassed,--if the dead are thus, then 'Blessed are the dead!'\n\nNo wonder that one aspect of that blessedness--the '_sleeping_\nin Jesus'--has been the one that the weary have laid hold of at all\ntimes; but do not let us forget what lies even in that figure of\nsleep, or distort it as if it meant to express a less vivid life\nthan that here below. I think we sometimes misunderstand what the\nBible means when it speaks about death as a sleep, by taking it to\nexpress the idea that that intermediate state is one of a kind of\ndepressed consciousness, and of a less full vitality than the\npresent. Not so. Sleep is rest, that is one reason for the\nscriptural application of the word to death. Sleep is the cessation\nof all connection with the external world, that is another reason.\nAs we play with the names of those that are familiar to us, so a\nloving faith can venture to play, as it were, with the awful name of\nHim who is King of Terrors, and to minimise it down to that shadow\nand reflection of itself which we find in the nightly act of going\nto rest. That may be another reason. But sleep is not unconsciousness;\nsleep does not touch the spirit. Sleep sets us free from relations to\nthe outer world but the soul works as hard, though in a different way,\nwhen we slumber as when we wake. People who know what it is to dream,\nought never to fancy that when the Bible talks about death as sleep, it\nmeans to say to us that death is unconsciousness. By no means. Strip the\nman of the disturbance that comes from a fevered body, and he will have\na calmer soul. Strip him of the hindrances that come from a body which\nis like an opaque tower around his spirit, with only a narrow slit here\nand a narrow door there--five poor senses, with which he can come into\nconnection with an outer universe; and, then surely, the spirit will have\nwider avenues out to God, and larger powers of reception, because it\nhas lost the earthly tabernacle which, just in proportion as it brought\nthe spirit into connection with the earth to which the tabernacle\nbelongs, severed its connection with the heavens that are above.\nThey who have died in Christ live a fuller and a nobler life, by the\nvery dropping away of the body; a fuller and a nobler life, by the\nvery cessation of care, change, strife and struggle; and, above all,\na fuller and nobler life, because they 'sleep _in Jesus_,' and\nare gathered into His bosom, and wake with Him yonder beneath the\naltar, clothed in white robes, and with palms in their hands,\n'waiting the adoption--to wit, the redemption of the body.' For\nthough death be a progress--a progress to the spiritual existence;\nthough death be a birth to a higher and nobler state; though it be\nthe gate of life, fuller and better than any which we possess;\nthough the present state of the departed in Christ is a state of\ncalm blessedness, a state of perfect communion, a state of rest and\nsatisfaction;--yet it is not the final and perfect state, either.\n\nAnd, therefore, in the last place, the better life, which the dead\nin Christ are living now, leads on to a still fuller life when they\nget back their glorified bodies.\n\nThe perfection of man is body, soul, and spirit. That is man, as God\nmade him. The spirit perfected, the soul perfected, without the\nbodily life, is but part of the whole. For the future world, in all\nits glory, we have the firm basis laid that it, too, is to be in a\nreal sense a material world, where men once more are to possess\nbodies as they did before, only bodies through which the spirit\nshall work conscious of no disproportion, bodies which shall be fit\nservants and adequate organs of the immortal souls within, bodies\nwhich shall never break down, bodies which shall never hem in nor\nrefuse to obey the spirits that dwell in them, but which shall add\nto their power, and deepen their blessedness, and draw them closer\nto the God whom they serve and the Christ after the likeness of\nwhose glorious body they are fashioned and conformed. 'Body, soul,\nand spirit,' the old combination which was on earth, is to be the\nperfect humanity of heaven. The spirits that are perfected, that are\nliving in blessedness, that are dwelling in God, that are sleeping\nin Christ, at this moment are waiting, stretching out (I say, not\nlonging, but) expectant hands of faith and hope; for that they would\nnot be unclothed, but clothed upon with their house which is from\nheaven, that mortality might be swallowed up of life.\n\nWe have nothing to say, now and here, about what that bodily\ncondition may be--about the differences and the identities between\nit and our present earthly house of this tabernacle. Only\n_this_ we know-reverse all the weakness of flesh, and you get\nsome faint notion of the glorious body. It is sown in corruption,\ndishonour, and weakness. It is raised in incorruption, glory, and\npower. Nay, more, it is sown a natural body, fit organ for the\nanimal life or nature, which stands connected with this material\nuniverse; 'it is raised a spiritual body,' fit servant for the\nspirit that dwells in it, that works through it, that is perfected\nin its redemption.\n\nWhy, then, seek the living among the dead? 'God giveth His beloved\nsleep'; and in that peaceful sleep, realities, not dreams, come\nround their quiet rest, and fill their conscious spirits and their\nhappy hearts with blessedness and fellowship. And when thus lulled\nto sleep in the arms of Christ they have rested till it please Him\nto accomplish the number of His elect, then, in His own time, He\nwill make the eternal morning to dawn, and the hand that kept them\nin their slumber shall touch them into waking, and shall clothe them\nwhen they arise according to the body of His own glory; and they\nlooking into His face, and flashing back its love, its light, its\nbeauty, shall each break forth into singing as the rising light of\nthat unsetting day touches their transfigured and immortal heads, in\nthe triumphant thanksgiving 'I am satisfied, for I awake in Thy\nlikeness.'\n\n'Therefore, comfort one another with these words,' and remember that\n_we_ are of the day, not of the night; let us not, then, sleep\nas do others; but let us reckon that Christ hath died for us, that\nwhether we wake on earth or sleep in the grave, or wake in heaven,\nwe may live together with Him!\n\n\n\n\nTHE RISEN LORD'S SELF-REVELATION TO WAVERING DISCIPLES\n\n\n    'And, behold, two of them went that same day to a\n    village called Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem about\n    threescore furlongs. 14. And they talked together of\n    all these things which had happened. 15. And it came\n    to pass, that, while they communed together and\n    reasoned, Jesus Himself drew near, and went with them.\n    16. But their eyes were holden that they should not\n    know Him. 17. And He said unto them, What manner of\n    communications are these that ye have one to another,\n    as ye walk, and are sad? 18. And the one of them,\n    whose name was Cleopas, answering said unto Him, Art\n    Thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known\n    the things which are come to pass there in these days?\n    19. And He said unto them, What things? And they said\n    unto Him, Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, which was a\n    prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the\n    people: 20. And how the chief priests and our rulers\n    delivered Him to be condemned to death, and have\n    crucified Him. 21. But we trusted that it had been He\n    which should have redeemed Israel: and besides all\n    this, to-day is the third day since these things were\n    done. 22. Yea, and certain women also of our company\n    made us astonished, which were early at the sepulchre;\n    23. And when they found not His body, they came,\n    saying, that they had also seen a vision of angels,\n    which said that He was alive. 24. And certain of them\n    which were with us went to the sepulchre, and found it\n    even so as the women had said: but Him they saw not.\n    26. Then He said unto them, O fools, and slow of heart\n    to believe all that the prophets have spoken: 26. Ought\n    not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter\n    into His glory? 27. And beginning at Moses and all the\n    prophets, He expounded unto them in all the scriptures\n    the things concerning Himself. 28. And they drew nigh\n    unto the village, whither they went: and He made as\n    though He would have gone further. 29. But they\n    constrained Him, saying, Abide with us: for it is\n    toward evening, and the day is far spent. And He went\n    in to tarry with them. 30. And it came to pass, as He\n    sat at meat with them, He took bread, and blessed it,\n    and brake, and gave to them. 31. And their eyes were\n    opened, and they knew Him; and He vanished out of\n    their sight. 32 And they said one to another, Did not\n    our heart burn within us, while He talked with us by\n    the way and while He opened to us the scriptures?'\n    --LUKE xxiv. 13-32.\n\nThese two disciples had left their companions after Peter's return\nfrom the sepulchre and before Mary Magdalene hurried in with her\ntidings that she had seen Jesus. Their coming away at such a crisis,\nlike Thomas's absence that day, shows that the scattering of the\nsheep was beginning to follow the smiting of the shepherd. The\nmagnet withdrawn, the attracted particles fall apart. What arrested\nthat process? Why did not the spokes fall asunder when the centre\nwas removed? John's disciples crumbled away after his death. When\nTheudas fell, all his followers 'were dispersed' and came to nought.\nThe Church was knit more closely together after the death that,\naccording to all analogy, should have scattered it. Only the fact\nof the Resurrection explains the anomaly. No reasonable men would\nhave held together unless they had known that their Messianic hopes\nhad not been buried in Christ's grave. We see the beginnings of the\nResurrection of these hopes in this sweet story.\n\nI. We have first the two sad travellers and the third who joins\nthem. Probably the former had left the group of disciples on purpose\nto relieve the tension of anxiety and sorrow by walking, and to get\na quiet time to bring their thoughts into some order. They were like\nmen who had lived through an earthquake; they were stunned, and\nphysical exertion, the morning quiet of the country, and the absence\nof other people, would help to calm their nerves, and enable them to\nrealise their position. Their tone of mind will come out more\ndistinctly presently. Here it is enough to note that the 'things\nwhich had come to pass' filled their minds and conversation. That\nbeing so, they were not left to grope in the dark. 'Jesus Himself\ndrew near, and went with them.' Honest occupation of mind with the\ntruth concerning Him, and a real desire to know it, are not left\nunhelped. We draw Him to our sides when we wish and try to grasp the\nreal facts concerning Him, whether they coincide with our\nprepossessions or not.\n\nIt is profoundly interesting and instructive to note the\ncharacteristics of the favoured ones who first saw the risen Lord.\nThey were Mary, whose heart was an altar of flaming and fragrant\nlove; Peter, the penitent denier; and these two, absorbed in\nmeditation on the facts of the death and burial. What attracts\nJesus? Love, penitence, study of His truth. He comes to these with\nthe appropriate gifts for them, as truly--yea, more closely--as of\nold. Perhaps the very doubting that troubled them brought Him to\ntheir help. He saw that they especially needed Him, for their faith\nwas sorely wounded. Necessity is as potent a spell to bring Jesus as\ndesert. He comes to reward fixed and fervent love, and He comes,\ntoo, to revive it when tremulous and cold.\n\n'Their eyes were holden,' says Luke; and similarly 'their eyes were\nopened' (ver. 31). He makes the reason for His not being recognised\na subjective one, and his narrative affords no support to the theory\nof a change in our Lord's resurrection body. How often does Jesus\nstill come to us, and we discern Him not! Our paths would be less\nlonely, and our thoughts less sad, if we realised more fully and\nconstantly our individual share in the promise,' I am with you\nalways.'\n\nII. We have next the conversation (vs. 17-28). The unknown new-comer\nstrikes into the dialogue with a question which, on some lips, would\nhave been intrusive curiosity, and would have provoked rude retorts.\nBut there was something in His voice and manner which unlocked\nhearts. Does He not still come close to burdened souls, and with a\nsmile of love on His face and a promise of help in His tones, ask us\nto tell Him all that is in our hearts? 'Communications' told to Him\ncease to sadden. Those that we cannot tell to Him we should not\nspeak to ourselves.\n\nCleopas naively wonders that there should be found a single man in\nJerusalem ignorant of the things which had come to pass. He forgot\nthat the stranger might know these, and not know that they were\ntalking about them. Like the rest of us, he fancied that what was\ngreat to him was as great to everybody. What _could_ be the\nsubject of their talk but the one theme? The stranger assumes\nignorance, in order to win to a full outpouring. Jesus wishes us to\nput all fears and doubts and shattered hopes into plain words to\nHim. Speech to Christ cleanses our bosoms of much perilous stuff.\nBefore He speaks in answer we are lightened.\n\nVery true to nature is the eager answer of the two. The silence once\nbroken, out flows a torrent of speech, in which love and grief,\ndisciples' pride in their Master, and shattered hopes, incredulous\nbewilderment and questioning wonder, are blended.\n\nThat long speech (vs. 19-24) gives a lively conception of the two\ndisciples' state of mind. Probably it fairly represented the thought\nof all. We note in it the limited conception of Jesus as but a\nprophet, the witness to His miracles and teaching (the former being\nset first, as having more impressed their minds), the assertion of\nHis universal appreciation by the 'people,' the charging of the\nguilt of Christ's death on 'our rulers,' the sad contrast between\nthe officials' condemnation of Him and their own fond Messianic\nhopes, and the despairing acknowledgment that these were shattered.\n\nThe reference to 'the third day' seems to imply that the two had\nbeen discussing the meaning of our Lord's frequent prophecy about\nit. The connection in which they introduce it looks as if they were\nbeginning to understand the prophecy, and to cherish a germ of hope\nin His Resurrection, or, at all events, were tossed about with\nuncertainty as to whether they dared to cherish it. They are chary\nof allowing that the women's story was true; naively they attach\nmore importance to its confirmation by men. 'But Him they saw not,'\nand, so long as He did not appear, they could not believe even\nangels saying 'that He was alive.'\n\nThe whole speech shows how complete was the collapse of the\ndisciples' Messianic hopes, how slowly their minds opened to admit\nthe possibility of Resurrection, and how exacting they were in the\nmatter of evidence for it, even to the point of hesitating to accept\nangelic announcements. Such a state of mind is not the soil in which\nhallucinations spring up. Nothing but the actual appearance of the\nrisen Lord could have changed these sad, cautious unbelievers to\nlifelong confessors. What else could have set light to these rolling\nsmoke-clouds of doubt, and made them flame heaven-high and world-wide?\n\n'The ingenuous disclosure of their bewilderment appealed to their\nCompanion's heart, as it ever does. Jesus is not repelled by doubts\nand perplexities, if they are freely spoken to Him. To put our\nconfused thoughts into plain words tends to clear them, and to bring\nHim as our Teacher. His reproach has no anger in it, and inflicts no\npain, but puts us on the right track for arriving at the truth. If\nthese two had listened to the 'prophets,' they would have understood\ntheir Master, and known that a divine 'must' wrought itself out in\nHis Death and Resurrection. How often, like them, do we torture\nourselves with problems of belief and conduct of which the solution\nlies close beside us, if we would use it?\n\nJesus claimed 'all the prophets' as His witnesses. He teaches us to\nfind the highest purpose of the Old Testament in its preparation for\nHimself, and to look for foreshadowings of His Death and\nResurrection there. What gigantic delusion of self-importance that\nwas, if it was not the self-attestation of the Incarnate Word, to\nwhom all the written word pointed! He will still, to docile souls,\nbe the Interpreter of Scripture. They who see Him in it all are\nnearer its true appreciation than those who see in the Old Testament\neverything but Him.\n\nIII. We have finally the disclosure and disappearance of the Lord.\nThe little group must have travelled slowly, with many a pause on\nthe road, while Jesus opened the Scriptures; for they left the city\nin the morning, and evening was near before they had finished their\n'threescore furlongs' (between seven and eight miles). His presence\nmakes the day's march seem short.\n\n'He made as though He would have gone further,' not therein assuming\nthe appearance of a design which He did not really entertain, but\nbeginning a movement which He would have carried out if the\ndisciples' urgency had not detained Him. Jesus forces His company on\nno man. He 'would have gone further' if they had not said 'Abide\nwith us.' He will leave us if we do not keep Him. But He delights to\nbe held by beseeching hands, and our wishes 'constrain' Him. Happy\nare they who, having felt the sweetness of walking with Him on the\nweary road, seek Him to bless their leisure and to add a more\nblissful depth of repose to their rest!\n\nThe humble table where Christ is invited to sit, becomes a sacred\nplace of revelation. He hallows common life, and turns the meals\nover which He presides into holy things. His disciples' tables\nshould be such that they dare ask their Lord to sit at them. But\nhow often He would be driven away by luxury, gross appetite, trivial\nor malicious talk! We shall all be the better for asking ourselves\nwhether we should like to invite Jesus to our tables. He is there,\nspectator and judge, whether invited or not.\n\nWhere Jesus is welcomed as guest He becomes host. Perhaps something\nin gesture or tone, as He blessed and brake the bread, recalled the\nloved Master to the disciples' minds, and, with a flash, the glad\n'It is He!' illuminated their souls. That was enough. His bodily\npresence was no longer necessary when the conviction of His risen\nlife was firmly fixed in them. Therefore He disappeared. The old\nunbroken companionship was not to be resumed. Occasional\nappearances, separated by intervals of absence, prepared the\ndisciples gradually for doing without His visible presence.\n\nIf we are sure that He has risen and lives for ever, we have a\nbetter presence than that. He is gone from our sight that He may be\nseen by our faith. That 'now we see Him not' is advance on the\nposition of His first disciples, not retrogression. Let us strive to\npossess the blessing of 'those who have not seen, and yet have\nbelieved.'\n\n\n\n\nDETAINING CHRIST\n\n\n    'And they drew nigh unto the village, whither they\n    went: and He made as though He would have gone further.\n    29. But they constrained Him, saying, Abide with us:\n    for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent.\n    And He went in to tarry with them.'--LUKE xxiv. 28, 29.\n\nOf course, a chance companion, picked up on the road, is dropped when\nthe journey's end is reached. When these two disciples had come to\nEmmaus, perhaps arriving at some humble inn or caravanserai, or\nperhaps at the home of one of them, it would have been an unmannerly\nintrusion for the Stranger who had met them on the road, and could\naccompany them there without rudely forcing Himself on them, to have\ninflicted His company further on them unless they had wished it. And so\n'He made as though He would have gone further,' not pretending what\nHe did not mean, but doing what was but natural and proper in the\ncircumstances. But Jesus had a further motive for showing His intention\nof parting company at the door of t he house in Emmaus. He desired to\nevoke the expression of the desire of His two fellow-walkers that He\nshould tarry with them. Having evoked it, then with infinite\nwillingness omnipotence lets itself be controlled by feebleness, and\nJesus suffers Himself to be constrained by those whom, unknown to\nthemselves, He was gently and mightily constraining. 'He _made as\nthough,'_ unfortunately suggests to an English reader the idea of\nacting a part, and of seeming to intend what was not really intended.\nBut there is no such thought in Luke's mind.\n\nThe first suggestion that strikes one from this incident is just\nthis: Jesus Christ will certainly leave us if we do not detain Him.\n\nIt is no more certain that that walk to Emmaus had its end, and that\nthat first day of the week, day of Resurrection though it was, was\ndestined to close in sunset and evening darkness, than that all\nseasons of quickened intercourse with Jesus Christ, all times when\nduty and grace and privilege seem to be very great and real, all\ntimes when we awake more than ordinarily to the recognition of the\nPresence of the Lord with us and of the glories that lie beyond,\ntend to end and to leave us bare and deprived of the vision, unless\nthere be on our parts a distinct and resolute effort to make\nperpetual that which in its nature is transient and comes to a\nclose, unless we avert its cessation. All motion tends to rest, and\nChristian feeling falls under the same law. Nay, the more thrilling\nthe moment's experience the more exhausting is it, and the more\ncertain to be followed by depression and collapse. 'Action and\nreaction are equal and contrary.' The height of the wave determines\nthe depth of the trough. Therefore Christian people have to be\nspecially careful towards the end of a time of special vitality and\nearnestness; because, unless they by desire and by discipline of\ntheir minds interpose, the natural result will be deadness in\nproportion to the previous excitement. 'He made as though He would\nhave gone further,' and He certainly will unless His retreating\nskirts be grasped at by the outstretched hands of faith and desire,\nand the prayer go after Him, 'Abide with us for it is toward\nevening.'\n\nThat is quite true, too, in another application of the incident.\nConvictions, spiritual experiences of a rudimentary sort, certainly\ndie away and leave people harder and worse than they were before,\nunless they be fostered and cherished and brought to maturity and\ninvested with permanence by the honest efforts of the subjects of\nthe same. The grace of God, in the preaching of His Gospel, is like\na flying summer shower. It falls upon one land and then passes on\nwith its treasures and pours them out somewhere else. The religious\nhistory of many countries and of long centuries is a commentary\nwritten out in great and tragic characters on the profound truth\nthat lies in the simple incident of my text. Look at Palestine, look\nat Asia Minor, at the places where the Gospel first won its\ntriumphs; look at Eastern Europe. What is the present condition of\nthese once fair lands but an illustration of this principle, that\nChrist who comes to men in His grace is kept only by the earnestness\nand faithfulness and desire of the men to whom He comes?\n\nAnd you and I, dear brethren, both as members of a Christian\ncommunity and in our individual capacity, have our religious\nblessings on the same conditions as Ephesus and Constantinople had\ntheirs, and may fling them away by the same negligence as has ruined\nlarge tracts of the world through long ages of time. Christ will\ncertainly go unless you keep Him.\n\nThen further, notice from my text this other thought, that Christ\nseeks by His action to stimulate our desires for Him.\n\n'He made as though He would have gone further.' But while His feet were\ndirected to the road His heart remained with His two fellow-travellers\nwhom He was apparently leaving, and His wish was that the sight of His\nretiring figure might kindle in their hearts great outgoings of desire\nto which He would so gladly yield. It is the same action on His part,\nonly under a slightly different form, but actuated by the same motive\nand the same in substance, as we find over and over again in the\ngospels. You remember the instances. I need only refer to them in a word.\n\nHere is one: the dark lake, the rising moon behind the Eastern\nhills, a figure coming out of the gloom across the stormy sea, and\nwhen He reached the tossing fishing cobble it seemed as if He would\nhave passed by; and He would, but that the cry flung out over the\ndark water stopped Him.\n\nHere are two blind men sitting by the roadside crying 'Thou Son of\nDavid, have mercy upon us.' Not a word, not even a glance over His\nshoulder, no stopping of His resolved stride; onwards towards\nJerusalem, Pilate, and Calvary. Because He did not heed their cry?\nBecause He did not infinitely long to help them? No. The purpose of\nHis apparent indifference was attained when 'they cried the more\nearnestly, Thou Son of David, have mercy upon us.'\n\nHere is another. A woman half mad with anguish for her demon-ridden\ndaughter, calling after Him with the shrill shriek of Eastern sorrow\nand disturbing the fine nerves of the disciples, but causing no\nmovements nor any sign that He even heard, or if He heard, heeded,\nthe ear-piercing and heart-moving cries. Why was that ear which was\nalways open to the call of misery closed now? Because He wished to\nbring her to such an agony of desire as might open her heart very\nwide for an amplitude of blessing; and so He let her cry, knowing\nthat the longer she called the more she would wish, and that the\nmore she wished the more He would bestow.\n\nAnd that is what He does with us all sometimes: seeming to leave our\nwishes and our yearnings all unnoticed. Then the devil says to us,\n'What's the use of crying to Him? He does not hear you.' But faith\nhears the promise: 'Open thy mouth wide and I will fill it,' though\nto sense there seems to be 'no voice nor any that answered.'\n\nChrist has no other reason in any of the delays and trying\nprolongations of His answers than to make us capable of larger\nblessing, because delay deepens our longing. He is infinitely\nwishful to-day, as He was on that Resurrection evening, to draw near\nto every heart and pour upon it the whole sunlit cataract of the\nmighty fact that He lives to bless. But He cannot come to us unless\nwe desire Him, and He cannot give to us more of Himself than we\nwish; and therefore He is obliged, as the first thing, to make our\ndesires larger and fuller, and then He will answer them. 'He could\nthere do no mighty works because of their unbelief.'\n\nOur faithlessness limits His power; our faith is the measure of our\ncapacity.\n\nLastly, the text reminds us that Jesus Christ is glad to be forced.\n\n'They _constrained_': a very strong word, kindred to the other\none which our Lord Himself employs when He speaks about the 'kingdom\nof heaven suffering violence, and the violent taking it by force.'\nThat bold expression gives emphatic utterance to the truth that\nthere is a real power lodged in the desires of humble hearts that\ndesire Him, so as that they can prescribe to Him what He shall do\nfor them and how much of Himself He shall give them. Our feebleness\ncan in a measure set in motion and regulate the energy of\nOmnipotence. 'They constrained Him.'\n\nDo you remember who it was that was called 'a prince with God' and\nhow he won the title and was able to prevail? We, too, have the\ncharter given to us that we can--I speak it reverently--guide God's\nhand and compel Omnipotence to bless us. We master Nature by\nyielding to it and utilising its energies. We have power with God by\nyielding to Him and conforming our desires to the longings of His\nheart and asking the things that are according to His will.\n'Concerning the work of My hands _command_ ye Me.' And what we,\nleaning on His promise and in unison with His mighty purpose of\nlove, desire, _that_ will as certainly come down to us as every\nstream must pour into the lowest levels and fill the depressions in\nits course.\n\nYou can make sure of Christ if two things are yours. He will always\nremain with us if, on the one hand, we wish for Him honestly and\nreally to be with us all the day long, which would be extremely\ninconvenient for some of us; and if, on the other hand, we take care\nnot to do the acts nor cultivate the tempers which drive Him away.\nFor 'How can two walk together except they be agreed?' And how can\nwe ask Him to come in and sit down in a house which is all full of\nfilth and worldliness? Turn the demons out and open the door, and\nanything is more likely than that the door will stand gaping and the\ndoorway be unfilled by the meek presence of the Christ that enters\nin.\n\nThe old prayer is susceptible of application to our community and to\nour individual hearts. When Israel prayed, 'Arise, O Lord, into Thy\nrest; Thou and the Ark of Thy strength,' the answer was prompt and\ncertain. 'This is My rest for ever; here will I dwell, for I have\ndesired it.' But the divine desire was not accomplished till the\nhuman desire opened the Temple gates for the entrance of the Ark.\n\n'He made as though He would have gone further'; but they constrained\nHim, and then He entered in.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MEAL AT EMMAUS\n\n\n    'And it came to pass, as He sat at meat with them, He\n    took bread, and blessed it, and brake, and gave to\n    them. 31. And their eyes were opened, and they knew Him;\n    and He vanished out of their sight.'--LUKE xxiv. 30, 31.\n\nPerhaps the most striking characteristic of the Gospel accounts of\nour Lord's intercourse with His disciples, in the interval between\nthe Resurrection and His Ascension, is the singular union of mystery\nand simplicity which they present. There is a certain air of\nremoteness and depth over all the intercourse, as if it meant more,\nand was intended to teach more, than appears on the surface, as I\nbelieve it was intended. And yet, at the same time, there is, along\nwith that, in most singular combination, the very utmost simplicity,\namounting almost sometimes to baseness and rudeness, as for\ninstance, here. Some poor house of entertainment, possibly, at any\nrate, some poor man's house, in a little country village; the\ncompany these two talkative, and yet despondent disciples; the fare\nand the means of manifestation a bit of barley-bread; and out of\nthese materials are woven lessons that will live in the Church in\nall ages. 'He took bread and blessed it, and brake.' These are the\nwords, almost verbatim, of the institution of the Lord's Supper.\nThey are the words, almost verbatim, with which more than one of the\nEvangelists describes the miraculous feeding of the four and the\nfive thousand; and it was the old familiar act, expressed by the\nEvangelist by the old familiar words, that opened the disciples'\neyes, and they knew Him. How simply the process of discovery is\ntold! It was quite natural that a casual stranger upon the road\nshould not say who He was; it was quite as natural that when He\nentered into the closer relationship of sitting with the disciples\nat the table, and sharing their hospitality, they should expect, as\nindeed they did expect, that as they had been frank with Him, He\nwould be frank with them, and they would find out now who this\nunknown teacher and apparent Rabbi was. And so, as it would seem, in\nsilence, or at least with nothing of any moment, the meal went on,\nbut all at once, at some point in the meal, the guest assumes the\nposition of the master of the house, takes upon Himself the function\nand office of host, interrupts the progress of the meal by the\nsolemn prayer of blessing; and whilst the singularity of the action\ndrew their attention, perhaps some little peculiarity in His way of\ndoing it, or something else, opened the door for a whole stream of\nassociations and half-dormant remembrances to rush in, and they\nremembered what they had heard of the last supper,--for these two\nwere not at it,--and they remembered what they had seen,--miraculous\nfeedings; and they remembered no doubt how He had always done with\nthem in the happy old days when He communed with them. At all\nevents, by the natural action of breaking the bread and sharing\nit amongst them, the subjective hindrances which had stood in the\nway of their recognising Him dropped away like scales from their\neyes, and they beheld Him, and then, without a word, He vanished out\nof their sight, and the wearied, hungry men girded up their loins\nand rushed back to Jerusalem to tell the brethren the story.\n\nNow, I think that, taking the event as it stands before us, and\nespecially marking the obviously intended parallelism in expression,\nand I hare no doubt in action, between former miracles, the\ninstitution of the Lord's Supper, and this neither sacramental nor\nreligious meal in the little village--I think we may get some\nlessons worth pondering.\n\nI confine myself quite simply to the three points of the narrative:--\n\n  The distribution of the bread;\n  The discovery;\n  And the disappearance.\n\n'He took bread and blessed it, and brake and gave to them, and their\neyes were opened, and they knew Him; and He vanished out of their\nsight.'\n\nI. Look, then, for a moment or two at the thoughts which I think are\nintended to be conveyed to us by that first point--the action of\nbreaking and distributing the bread.\n\nI have said, incidentally, in my previous remarks, that there is a\nsingular air of remoteness, removedness, mystery, reticence, about\nour Lord's relations to His disciples in the interval of these forty\ndays; and I suppose that that change from the frankness of His\nformer relations and the close contact in which the Apostles and\ndisciples had been brought during all the previous three years--I\nsuppose that that was intended to be the beginning of the\npreparation of weaning and preparing them to do without Him\naltogether. And along with that removedness, there is also, as I\ntake it, and as I have already said, a great depth of significance\nabout the whole of these events which lead people to deal with them\nas being symbols, types, exhibitions on a material platform of great\nspiritual truths; and although the habit of finding symbolical\nmeaning in historical events, especially as applied to the Gospels,\nhas been full of all manner of mischief, yet that there is that\nelement is not to be denied; and whilst we have to keep it down and\nbe very careful in our application of it, lest in finding ingenious\nfanciful meanings, we lose the plain prose, which is always the best\nand the most important, yet that element is there, and we have to\ntake heed that we do not push the denial of it to excess, as the\nrecognition of it has often been pushed. And so, from these two\npoints of view. I think the thing should be looked at. The plain\nprose, then, of the matter is this--that at a given point in this\nhumble road-side meal, our Lord having been guest, having been\nconstrained to enter in by the loving importunity of these people,\nbecomes the host, takes upon Himself the position of the head of the\nhousehold, and in that position so acts as to bring to the disciples'\nremembrance former deeds of miracles, and the institution of the\nordinance of the Lord's Supper, and that was the means of their\nrecognition.\n\nWell, then, if so, I think that we may say fairly that in this\nbreaking and distribution of the bread, there is first of all this\nlesson--the old familiar blessed intercourse between Him and them\nhad not been put an end to then by all that had passed during these\nthree mysterious days; but they were as they used to be in regard to\nthe closeness of their relationship and the reality of their\nintercourse. No doubt, in the former years, Christ had been in the\nhabit of always acting as the Head of the little family. When they\ngathered for their frugal meals, He was the master, they the\ndisciples; He the elder brother, and they gathered about Him. And He\nassumes the old position; and if we will try for a moment to throw\nourselves into their position and to see with their eyes, we shall\nunderstand the pathetic beauty--I was going to say the poetic\nbeauty, but perhaps you would not like that word to be applied to\nthe history of our Redeemer--the pathetic beauty of the deed. They\nhad been thinking of themselves as forsaken of Him; the grave had\nbroken off all their sweet and blessed intercourse; they were alone\nnow. 'We trusted that it had been He which should have redeemed\nIsrael.' He is gone! Even the poor consolation of looking upon the\nplace where He lies is denied us; for whatever may be doubtful this\nis certain, that the grave is open and the body is not there. And so\nthey felt lost and scattered; and there comes to them this gleam of\nconsolation--I take my place amongst you just as I used to do; 'I am\nHe that liveth and was dead, and behold, I am alive for evermore.'\nWe used to sit together at the table; let that be repeated here once\nmore that you may learn, and all the world through you may learn,\nthat the accident of death, which affects only the externals of\nsociety, has no power over the reality of the bond that knits even\ntwo human hearts with love together, still less a power over the\nreality of the bond that binds us to our Master. Death vanishes as a\nnothing in their intercourse;  they stand where they were; the\nfellowship is unbroken; the society is the same; all that there used\nto be of love and friendship, of peaceful concord, of true\nassociation; it abides for ever!\n\nThus, heavy with meaning and full of immortal hope may be the\nsimplest act wrought with the simplest materials, when the dead\nChrist who lives takes His old place in the midst of His disciples,\nand once again as He used to do, parts the bread between them. And,\ndear brethren, though it has nothing to do with my present purpose,\nmay this thought not add a wider application to our text; may it not\nbe a comfort and hope to many of us to remember that the grim shadow\nthat stretches athwart our path, and gathers into its blackness so\nmany of our sunny sparkling joys, and takes the light and the\nmovement and the colour out of them, is only a shadow, and that the\nsubstance lives in the shadow as it used to live in the sunshine,\nand passes through the shadow and comes out on the other side,\nblazing in more than its former lustre, and rich with more than its\nformer preciousness? For all whom we have loved and lost, the death\nwhich was a nothing in regard to Christ's intercourse with His\ndisciples, is a nothing, too, in regard to our real intercourse and\nsense of society and unity with them. They live in Him, and they are\nmore worthy to be loved than ever they were before. He who has\nconquered Death for Himself has conquered it for us all; and every\ntrue and pure human affection rooted in Him is as immortal as the\nlove that binds souls to Himself. Therefore, let us remember that\nthey sit at His table, and that we shall sit there some day too.\n\nII. Well, then, still further, another idea that I think belongs to\nthis first part of our thoughts as to the profound significance of our\nLord's here assuming the office and function of host, is this--we are\nthereby taught the same lesson that we are taught by His institution\nof the Communion, and taught by the whole details of His relation to\nHis disciples upon earth--that the true idea of the relation which\nresults from Him and His Presence is that of the Family.\n\nHe takes His place at the head of the table; He is the Lord of the\nhousehold, though it be but a household of two men, and they belong\nto the family and the society which He founds. Now it seems to me\nthat next to the great lesson which the Lord's Supper teaches us in\nreference to our individual dependence upon Him, His death as being\nall our hope and all our life, this is the most important lesson\nthat it teaches--the simplicity of the rite, the fact that it was\nbased upon the Jewish rite, which was a purely domestic one; the\nfact that our Lord steps into the place of the head of the household\nby His very presiding at the Passover service amongst His disciples;\nthe fact that He parts the common materials of the common meal and\nuses them and it as the symbols of His death, and of our life\nthereby--all that teaches us the same thing which the whole strain\nof His teaching and the whole strain of the New Testament sets\nforth--that the Church of Christ is then understood when we think of\nit as being one family in Him, bound together by the bands of a\nclose brotherhood, relying upon Him as the fountain of its life;\nhaving fellowship with one Father through that elder Brother;\npledged, therefore, to all fraternal kindness and frankness of\ncommunion and of mutual help, and gladdened by the hope of\njourneying onwards to Him. We cannot, of course, apply the analogy\nround and round; but of all the forms of human association which\nChrist has honoured and glorified by laying His hand upon them, and\nshowing that they are symbols of the society that He founds, and of\nwhich He is the centre, it is not the kingdom, but the family that\nis the nearest approach to the Church of the living God.\n\nAnd you and I, Christian men and women, if we come and sit at that\ntable of our Lord, let us remember that we thereby declare, not only\nfor ourselves that we enter into individual relations of reliance\nupon Him, and draw our life from Him, but that we pledge ourselves\nto the family bond, to be true to the brotherhood, that we declare\nourselves the sons of God and the brethren of all that are partakers\nof the like precious faith. The thing has become a word, a name\namongst us. I wonder if any of you remember the bitter saying of one\nof our modern teachers; he says that he found out somehow or other\nhow much less 'brethren' in the Church meant than 'brothers' out of\nit. Let us learn the lesson and take the rebuke, and remember that\nif the Lord's Supper means anything, it means that we belong to the\nhousehold of faith, and are members of the great family in heaven\nand in earth.\n\nIII. Well, then, still further connected with this first idea of the\nlesson and significance of the distribution of the bread, I think we\nmay take another consideration, which is, in fact, only another\napplication of the one I have already been suggesting--Where Christ\nis invited as a guest, He becomes the host.\n\nThey constrained Him to abide with them; they made Him welcome to\ntheir rude hospitality. It was little--a hut where poor men lay, a\nbit of barley-bread. But it was theirs, and they gave it Him; and He\nentered in and supped with them, and then, in the middle of it, the\nrelations were inverted, and they that had been showing the\nhospitality became the guests, and the table that had been theirs\nbecame His. 'And He took the bread and gave it to them.' You have\nthe same inversion of relation in that first miracle that He wrought\nat Cana of Galilee, where invited as a guest, at a point in the\nentertainment He provides the supplies for the further conduct of\nit. You remember the words which contain the spiritual application\nof the same thought--'Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If any\nman open the door, I will enter in and sup with him and he with Me.'\nTo put away the metaphor, it amounts to this--our Master never comes\nempty-handed. Where He is invited, He comes to bestow; where He is\nwelcomed, He comes with His gifts; where we say, 'Do Thou take what\nI offer,' He says, 'Do thou take Myself.' All His requirements are\nveiled promises; all His commandments are assurances of His gifts.\nHe bestows that He may receive; He seems to take that He may enrich.\nThey that give to Christ receive back again more than all that they\ngave, according to the profound words, 'There is no man that hath\nleft father or mother, or wife or children, or houses or lands, for\nMy sake and the Gospel's, but shall receive a hundredfold more in\nthis life, and in the world to come life everlasting.' The Christ\nthat is asked to come in order to receive, abides in order to\nbestow.\n\nAnd then there is a second point, going on with the flow of this\nlittle narrative before us, about which a word or two may be said.\nThe consequence of this assumption of the position of master, host,\nbestower is--'Their eyes were opened, and they knew Him.' The\ndiscovery of His person follows on the distribution of His gifts.\n\nNow, there is one point to be remarked before I deal with the\nlessons which I think are capable of being gathered from this part\nof our subject, and that is, that this narrative gives no sort of\nsupport, as it seems to me, to the ordinary notion that, subsequent\nto the Resurrection, there had passed upon our Lord's corporeal\nframe any change whatsoever as the commencement of the glorification\nof His earthly body. If you observe, the course of the narrative\ntakes pains to point out to us distinctly, that whatever may have\nbeen the reason why they did not recognise Him at first, that reason\nwas entirely in them, and not at all in Him. It is not that He was\nchanged; it is that 'their eyes were holden'; and when they did\nrecognise Him, it is not that any change whatsoever is recorded as\nhaving passed upon Him, but 'their eyes were opened, and they knew\nHim.' And the same thing may be said, as I believe, about the whole\nof the appearances, mysterious as they were, of our Lord, in the\ninterval between the Resurrection and the Ascension. I do not think,\nfor my part, (although I would by no means speak with confidence\nabout a matter that is so fragmentarily dealt with in Scripture),\nbut I do not think, for my part, that the narrative gives any\nsupport whatsoever to the idea of any change analogous to that which\ntakes place upon us at our resurrection, having begun to take place\nupon our Lord so long as He remained upon earth. The Ascension and\nthe Resurrection of Jesus Christ, in His case, are parts of one\nprocess. He was raised with the body with which He was crucified; He\nascended up on high, and there the glorification, as far as\nScripture teaches, is, I conceive, commenced. At all events, there\nis nothing in our narrative to support the idea of an incipient\ntransformation having begun with the Resurrection.\n\nBut, passing by that, which has nothing to do with my main present\npurpose, I may notice just one or two considerations in reference to\nthis discovery of our Lord. And the first and main one that I would\nsuggest is this--Where Christ is loved and desired, the veriest\ntrifles of common life may be the means of His discovery.  We know not\nwhat was the special point which brought dormant remembrance to life\nagain, and quickened the associations of the two, so that they knew\nJesus; even as we do not know what was the hindrance, whether\nsupernatural or whether by reason of their own fault, which prevented\nthe earlier recognition; but this at least we see, that in all\nprobability something in the manner of taking the bread and breaking\nit, the well-remembered action of the Master, brought back to mind\nthe whole of the former relation, and a rush of associations and\nmemories pulled away the veil and scaled off the mists from their\neyes. And so, dear brethren, if we have loving, and waiting, and\nChrist-desiring spirits, everything in this world--the common meal,\nthe events of every day, the most veritable trifles of our earthly\nrelationships--they will all have hooks and barbs, as it were, which\nwill draw after them thoughts of Him. There is nothing so small but\nthat to it there may be attached some filament which will bring after\nit the whole majesty and grace of Christ and His love. Whether ye eat\nor drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all in remembrance of Him, and do\nall to His glory. Oh, if we had in our inmost spirits a closer\nfellowship with Him, and a truer relation to Him, we should be more\nquick of apprehension. And, as in regard to those that we love, when\nthey are away from us, the fold of a garment, some bit of cloth lying\nabout the room, something upon the table, some common incident of the\nday that used to be done in company with them, may bring a flood of\nmemories that sometimes is too strong for a weak heart, so with the\nLord, if we loved Him--everything would be (as it is to those whose\nears are purged) vocal with His name, and everything would be flushed\nwith the light that falls from His face, and everything would suffice\nto remind us of our love, our hope, our joy. Especially let us\nremember that He has entrusted--with strange humility and with\nwonderful knowledge of us, and with the truest sympathy and tenderness\nfor our weakness--He has entrusted a large portion of our most\nspiritual remembrance and recognition of Him to material things. Did it\never strike you what a depth of what I may call Christ's condescension\nthere lay in this? 'Take this bread and this wine, and if you will not\nremember Me because I loved you so well, if you will not remember Me\nbecause I died for you, if earthly things and material realities will\ndrive Me out of your thoughts, at least remember Me because and when\nearthly things and material realities become My agents and My\nmemorials. If you forget the Cross, perhaps a bit of bread will remind\nyou of Me; and I am not too proud to spurn the remembrance that roots\nitself even in the material things of earth and by such means as that.'\n'He took the bread and brake it.' They had listened to all His words\nupon the road, and it never occurred to them who He was; they had walked\nbeside Him all day long, and even their burning hearts did not make them\nsuspect that it was the Master. It must needs be so--they whom wisdom\nand truth and His spiritual Presence cannot teach to recognise, may be\nled to recognise Him by the movement of His hands with the barley loaf,\nand some intonation of His voice in blessing it. 'This do in remembrance\nof Me' is the word of that deep pity that knows our frame and remembers\nthat we are dust, and is a word of the most marvellous condescension\nthat ever was uttered in human ears.\n\nIV. And then there is the final consideration here upon which I\ntouch but for a moment. The distribution and the discovery are\nfollowed by the disappearance of the Lord, 'They knew Him, and'--and\nwhat? And He let their hearts run over in thankful words? No. 'They\nknew Him,' and so they all went back to Jerusalem happy together?\nNo. 'They knew Him, and--He vanished out of their sight.' Yes, for\ntwo reasons. First, because when Christ's Presence is recognised\nsense may be put aside. 'It is expedient for you that I go away.'\nYou and I, dear brethren, need no visible manifestation; we have\nlost nothing though we have lost the bodily Presence of our Master.\nIt is more than made up to us, as He Himself assures us, and as we\nshall see ourselves if we think for a moment, by the clearer\nknowledge of His spiritual verity and stature, by the deeper\nexperience of the profounder aspects of His mission and message, by\nthe indwelling Spirit, and by the knowledge of Him working evermore\nfor us all. His going is a step in advance. 'If I go not away the\nComforter will not come to you; but if I depart, I will send Him\nunto you.' The earthly manifestation was only the basis and the\nplatform for that which is purer and deeper in kind, and more\nprecious and powerful; and when the platform has been laid, then\nthere is no need for the continuance thereof. And so, when He was\nmanifested to the heart He disappeared from the eyes; and we, who\nhave not beheld Him, stand upon no lower level than they who did,\nfor the voice of our experience is, 'Whom having not seen we love;\nin whom, though now we see Him not, yet believing, we rejoice with\njoy that is unspeakable and full of glory.'\n\nAnd for another reason.--When Christ is discerned there is work to\nbe done. 'Their eyes were opened, and they knew Him, and He vanished\nout of their sight; and ... they rose up that same hour; and\nreturned to Jerusalem' and said, He was known to us in breaking of\nbread, and He talked with us by the way. Yes, the vision of Christ\nbinds us to work, and while the more close and intimate and silent\ncommunion has its rights and its place in life, it is never to be\nmade a substitute for the active exercise of our Christian vocation\nto bear witness of Him, and to tell His name to those who need the\nconsolation of His Resurrection, and the joyful news that He lives\nto bless. So then that meal by the wayside may stand as type and\nsymbol of the way in which we, like the two pedestrians on the road\nand at the table, may have heart intercourse with Jesus, and may be\nimpelled thereby to labour for Him.\n\nThere was another time, after the Resurrection, when in like manner\nwe read that our Lord took bread, and blessed and brake and gave it\nto them; and that was in that mysterious meal upon the shores of the\nGalilean Lake, which has always been recognised as having a\nsymbolical meaning--though the exposition and detail have often been\nexaggerated and made absurd. In the one case it was two travellers\nwho met their Lord; it was in an inn that the recognition took\nplace; it was a brief moment of vision, followed by disappearance,\nand the disappearance led on to work; but in the other story it was\nwhen the morning broke that the Lord was manifest; it was after the\nnight of toil that His form appeared; His words to them were, 'Bring\nof the fruits of your labours and lay them upon the beach at My\nfeet.' And in the light of the eternal morning, after the weary\nnight of toil, they who on earth in their journey and pilgrimage\nhave had Him walking with them as third in their sweet society, and\nsitting with them in the tents and changeful residences of earth,\nmay expect to find Him waiting for them upon the shore; and, as one\nsays, 'It is the Lord!' and another dashes through the water to\nreach Christ, the invitation to all of them will be, 'Come and sit\nwith Me at My table in My kingdom; I provide the meal, and you add\nto it by that which you have caught.' 'They rest from their labours\nand their works do follow them.' And so 'they go no more out, but\nare ever with the Lord.'\n\n\n\n\nPETER ALONE WITH JESUS\n\n\n    'The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon.'\n    --LUKE xxiv. 34.\n\nThe other appearances of the risen Lord to individuals on the day of\nResurrection are narrated with much particularity, and at\nconsiderable length. John gives us the lovely account of our Lord's\nconversation with Mary Magdalene, Luke gives us in full detail the\nstory of the interview with the two travellers on the road to\nEmmaus. Here is another appearance, known to 'the eleven, and them\nthat were with them' on the Resurrection evening, and enumerated by\nPaul in his list of the appearances of the Lord, the account of\nwhich was the common gospel of himself and all the others, and yet\ndeep silence is preserved in regard to it. No word escaped Peter's\nlips as to what passed in the conversation between the denier and\nhis Lord. That is very significant.\n\nThe other appearances of the risen Lord to individuals on the day of\nResurrection suggest their own reasons. He appeared first to Mary\nMagdalene because she loved much. The love that made a timid woman\nbrave, and the sorrow that filled her heart, to the exclusion of\neverything else, drew Jesus to her. The two on the road to Emmaus\nwere puzzled, honest, painful seekers after truth. It was worth\nChrist's while to spend hours of that day of Resurrection in\nclearing, questioning, and confirming sincere minds. Does not this\nother appearance explain itself? The brief spasm of cowardice and\ndenial had changed into penitence when the Lord looked, and the\nbitter tears that fell were not only because of the denial, but\nbecause of the wound of that sharp arrow, the poisoned barb of which\nwe are happy if we have not felt the thought--'He will never know\nhow ashamed and miserable I am; and His last look was reproach, and\nI shall never see His face any more.' To respond to, and to satisfy,\nlove, to clear and to steady thought, to soothe the agony of a\npenitent, were worthy works for the risen Lord. I venture to think\nthat such a record of the use of such a day bears historical truth\non its very face, because it is so absolutely unlike what myth-making\nor hallucination, or the excited imagination of enthusiasts would\nhave produced, if these had been the sources of the story of the\nResurrection. But apart from that, I wish in this sermon to try to\ngather the suggestions that come to us from this interview, and from\nthe silence which is observed concerning them.\n\nWith regard to--\n\nI. The fact of the appearance itself.\n\nWe can only come into the position rightly to understand its\nprecious significance, if we try to represent to ourselves the state\nof mind of the man to whom it was granted. I have already touched\nupon that; let me, in the briefest possible way, recapitulate. As I\nhave said, the momentary impulse to the cowardly crime passed, and\nleft a melted heart, true penitence, and profound sorrow. One sad\nday slowly wore away. Early on the next came the message which\nproduced an effect on Peter so great, that the gospel, which in some\nsense is his gospel (I mean that 'according to Mark') alone contains\nthe record of it--the message from the open grave: 'Tell my\ndisciples _and Peter_ that I go before you into Galilee.' There\nfollowed the sudden rush to the grave, when the feet made heavy by a\nheavy conscience were distanced by the light step of happy love, and\n'the other disciple did outrun Peter.' The more impulsive of the two\ndashed into the sepulchre, just as he afterwards threw himself over\nthe side of the boat, and floundered through the water to get to his\nLord's feet, whilst John was content with looking, just as he\nafterwards was content to sit in the boat and say, 'It is the Lord.'\nBut John's faith, too, outran Peter's, and he departed 'believing,'\nwhilst Peter only attained to go away 'wondering.' And so another\nday wore away, and at some unknown hour in it, Jesus stood before\nPeter alone.\n\nWhat did that appearance say to the penitent man? Of course, it said\nto him what it said to all the rest, that death was conquered. It\nlifted his thoughts of his Master. It changed his whole atmosphere\nfrom gloom to sunshine, but it had a special message for him. It\nsaid that no fault, no denial, bars or diverts Christ's love. Peter,\nno doubt, as soon as the hope of the Resurrection began to dawn upon\nhim, felt fear contending with his hope, and asked himself, 'If He\nis risen, will He ever speak to me again?' And now here He is with a\nquiet look on His face that says, 'Notwithstanding thy denial, see,\nI have come to thee.'\n\nAh, brethren! the impulsive fault of a moment, so soon repented of,\nso largely excusable, is far more venial than many of our denials.\nFor a continuous life in contradiction to our profession is a\nblacker crime than a momentary fall, and they who, year in and year\nout, call themselves Christians, and deny their profession by the\nwhole tenor of their lives, are more deeply guilty than was the\nApostle, But Jesus Christ comes to us, and no sin of ours, no denial\nof ours, can bar out His lingering, His reproachful, and yet His\nrestoring, love and grace. All sin is inconsistent with the\nChristian profession. Blessed be God; we can venture to say that no\nsin is incompatible with it, and none bars off wholly the love that\npours upon us all. True; we may shut it out. True; so long as the\nsmallest or the greatest transgression is unacknowledged and\nunrepented, it forms a non-conducting medium around us, and isolates\nus from the electric touch of that gracious love. But also true; it\nis there hovering around us, seeking an entrance. If the door be\nshut, still the knocking finger is upon it, and the great heart of\nthe Knocker is waiting to enter. Though Peter had been a denier,\nbecause he was a penitent the Master came to him. No fault, no sin,\ncuts us off from the love of our Lord.\n\nAnd then the other great lesson, closely connected with this, but\nyet capable of being treated separately for a moment, which we\ngather from the fact of the interview, is that Jesus Christ is\nalways near the sorrowing heart that confesses its evil. He knew of\nPeter's penitence, if I might so say, in the grave; and, therefore,\nrisen, His feet hasted to comfort and to soothe him. As surely as\nthe shepherd hears the bleat of the lost sheep in the snowdrift, as\nsurely as the mother hears the cry of her child, so surely is a\npenitent heart a magnet which draws Christ, in all His potent\nfullness and tenderness, to itself. He that heard and knew the tears\nof the denier, and his repentance, when in the dim regions of the\ndead, no less hears and knows the first faint beginnings of sorrow\nfor sin, and bends down from His seat on the right hand of God,\nsaying, 'I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is\nof a humble and contrite spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble,\nand to revive the heart of the contrite ones.' No fault bars\nChrist's love. Christ is ever near the penitent spirit; and whilst\nhe is yet a great way off, He has compassion, and runs and falls on\nhis neck and kisses him.\n\nNow let us look at--\n\nII. The interview of which we know nothing.\n\nWe know nothing of what did pass; we know what must have passed.\nThere is only one way by which a burdened soul can get rid of its\nburden. There is only one thing that a conscience-stricken denier\ncan say to his Saviour. And--blessed be God!--there is only one\nthing that a Saviour can say to a conscience-stricken denier. There\nmust have been penitence with tears; there must have been full\nabsolution and remission. And so we are not indulging in baseless\nfancies when we say that we know what passed in that conversation,\nof which no word ever escaped the lips of either party concerned. So\nthen, with that knowledge, just let me dwell upon one or two\nconsiderations suggested.\n\nOne is that the consciousness of Christ's love, uninterrupted by our\ntransgression, is the mightiest power to deepen penitence and the\nconsciousness of unworthiness. Do you not think that when the\nApostle saw in Christ's face, and heard from His lips, the full\nassurance of forgiveness, he was far more ashamed of himself than he\nhad ever been in the hours of bitterest remorse? So long as there\nblends with the sense of my unworthiness any doubt about the free,\nfull, unbroken flow of the divine love to me, my sense of my own\nunworthiness is disturbed. So long as with the consciousness of\ndemerit there blends that thought--which often is used to produce\nthe consciousness, viz., the dread of consequences, the fear of\npunishment--my consciousness of sin is disturbed. But sweep away\nfear of penalty, sweep away hesitation as to the divine love, then I\nam left face to face with the unmingled vision of my own evil, and\nten thousand times more than ever before do I recognise how black my\ntransgression has been; as the prophet puts it with profound truth,\n'Thou shalt be ashamed and confounded, and never open thy mouth any\nmore, because of thy sins, when I am pacified towards thee for all\nthat thou hast done.' If you would bring a man to know how bad he\nis, do not brandish a whip before his face, or talk to him about an\nangry God. You may bray a fool in a mortar, and his foolishness will\nnot depart from him. You may break a man down with these violent\npestles, and you will do little more. But get him, if I may continue\nthe metaphor, not into the mortar, but set him in the sunshine of\nthe divine love, and that will do more than break, it will melt the\nhardest heart that no pestle would do anything but triturate. The\ngreat evangelical doctrine of full and free forgiveness through\nJesus Christ produces a far more vital, vigorous, transforming\nrecoil from transgression than anything besides. 'Do we make void\nthe law through faith? God forbid! Yea, we establish the law.'\n\nThen, further, another consideration may be suggested, and that is\nthat the acknowledgment of sin is followed by immediate forgiveness.\nDo you think that when Peter turned to his Lord, who had come from\nthe grave to soothe him, and said, 'I have sinned,' there was any\npause before He said, 'and thou art forgiven'? The only thing that\nkeeps the divine love from flowing into a man's heart is the barrier\nof unforgiven, because unrepented, sin. So soon as the acknowledgment\nof sin takes away the barrier--of course, by a force as natural as\ngravitation--the river of God's love flows into the heart. The\nconsciousness of forgiveness may be gradual; the fact of forgiveness\nis instantaneous. And the consciousness may be as instantaneous as\nthe fact, though it often is not. 'I believe in the forgiveness of\nsins'; and I believe that a man, that you, may at one moment be held\nand bound by the chains of sin, and that at the next moment, as when\nthe angel touched the limbs of this very Apostle in prison, the\nchains may drop from off ankles and wrists, and the prisoner may be\nfree to follow the angel into light and liberty. Sometimes the change\nis instantaneous, and there is no reason why it should not be an\ninstantaneous change, experienced at this moment, by any man or woman\namong us. Sometimes it is gradual. The Arctic spring comes with a\nleap, and one day there is thick-ribbed ice, and a few days after\nthere are grass and flowers. A like swift transformation is within\nthe limits of possibility for any of us, and--blessed be God! within\nthe experience of a good many of us. There is no reason why it should\nnot be that of each of us, as well as of this Apostle.\n\nThen there is one other thought that I would suggest, viz., that the\nman who is led through consciousness of sin and experience of\nuninterrupted love which is forgiveness, is thereby led into a\nhigher and a nobler life. Peter's bitter fall, Peter's gracious\nrestoration, were no small part of the equipment which made him what\nwe see him in the days after Pentecost--when the coward that had\nbeen ashamed to acknowledge his Master, and all whose impulsive and\nself-reliant devotion passed away before a flippant servant-girl's\ntongue, stood before the rulers of Israel, and said: 'Whether it be\nright in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God,\njudge ye!' The sense of sin, the assurance of pardon, shatter a\nman's unwholesome self-confidence, and develop his self-reliance\nbased upon his trust in Jesus Christ. The consciousness of sin, and\nthe experience of pardon, deepen and make more operative in life the\npower of the divine love. Thus, the publicans and the harlots do go\ninto the Kingdom of God many a time before the Pharisees. So let us\nall be sure that even our sins and faults may be converted into\nstepping stones to higher things.\n\nIII. Lastly, notice the deep silence in which this interview is\nshrouded.\n\nI have already pointed to the occupations of that Resurrection day\nas bearing on their face the marks of veracity. It seems to me that\nif the story of the Resurrection is not history, the talk between\nthe denier and the Master would have been a great deal too tempting\na subject for romancers of any kind to have kept their hands off. If\nyou read the apocryphal gospels you will see how eager they are to\nlay hold of any point in the true gospels, and spin a whole farrago\nof rubbish round about it. And do you think they could ever have let\nthis incident alone without spoiling it by expanding it, and putting\nall manner of vulgarities into their story about it? But the men who\ntold the story were telling simple facts, and when they did not know\nanything they said nothing.\n\nBut why did not Peter say anything about it? Because nobody had\nanything to do with it but himself  and his Master. It was his\nbusiness, and no one else's. The other scene by the lake reinstated\nhim in his office, and it was public because it concerned others\nalso; but what passed when he was restored to his faith was of no\nconcern to any one but the Restorer and the restored. And so, dear\nfriends, a religion which has a great deal to say about its\nindividual experiences is in very slippery places. The less you\nthink about your emotions, and eminently the less you talk about\nthem, the sounder, the truer, and the purer they will be. Goods in a\nshop-window get fly-blown very quickly, and lose their lustre. All\nthe deep secrets of a man's life, his love for his Lord, the way by\nwhich he came to Him, his penitence for his sin, like his love for\nhis wife, had better speak in deeds than in words to others. Of\ncourse while that is true on one side, we are not to forget the\nother side. Reticence as to the secret things of my own personal\nexperience is never to be extended so as to include silence as to\nthe fact of my Christian profession. Sometimes it is needful, wise,\nand Christlike for a man to lift the corner of the bridal curtain,\nand let in the day to some extent, and to say, 'Of whom I am chief,\nbut I obtained mercy.' Sometimes there is no such mighty power to\ndraw others to the faith which we would fain impart, as to say,\n'Whether this Man be a sinner or no, I know not; but one thing I\nknow, that whereas I was blind now I see.' Sometimes--always--a man\nmust use his own personal experience, cast into general forms, to\nemphasise his profession, and to enforce his appeals. So very\ntouchingly, if you will turn to Peter's sermons in the Acts, you\nwill find that he describes himself there (though he does not hint\nthat it is himself) when he appeals to his countrymen, and says, 'Ye\ndenied the Holy One and the Just.' The personal allusion would make\nhis voice vibrate as he spoke, and give force to the charge.\nSimilarly, in the letter which goes by his name--the second of the\ntwo Epistles of Peter--there is one little morsel of evidence that\nmakes one inclined to think that it is his, notwithstanding the\ndifficulties in the way, viz., that he sums up all the sins of the\nfalse teachers whom he is denouncing in this: 'Denying the Lord that\nbought them.' But with these limitations, and remembering that the\nstatement is not one to be unconditionally and absolutely put, let\nthe silence with regard to this interview teach us to guard the\ndepths of our own Christian lives.\n\nNow, dear brethren, have you ever gone apart with Jesus Christ, as\nif He and you were alone in the world? Have you ever spread out all\nyour denials and faults before Him? Have you ever felt the swift\nassurance of His forgiving love, covering over the whole heap, which\ndwindles as His hand lies upon it? Have you ever felt the increased\nloathing of yourselves which comes with the certainty that He has\npassed by all your sins? If you have not, you know very little about\nChrist, or about Christianity (if I may use the abstract word) or\nabout yourselves; and your religion, or what you call your religion,\nis a very shallow and superficial and inoperative thing. Do not\nshrink from being alone with Jesus Christ. There is no better place\nfor a guilty man, just as there is no better place for an erring\nchild than its mother's bosom. When Peter had caught a dim glimpse\nof what Jesus Christ was, he cried: 'Depart from me, for I am a\nsinful man, O Lord!' When he knew his Saviour and himself better, he\nclung to Him because he was so sinful. Do the same, and He will say\nto you: 'Son, thy sins be forgiven thee; Daughter, thy faith hath\nmade thee whole. Go in peace, and be whole of thy plague.'\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRIUMPHANT END\n\n\n    'And as they thus spake, Jesus Himself stood in the\n    midst of them, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you.\n    37. But they were terrified and affrighted, and\n    supposed that they had seen a spirit. 38. And He said\n    unto them, Why are ye troubled? and why do thoughts\n    arise in your hearts? 39. Behold My hands and My feet,\n    that it is I Myself: handle Me, and see; for a spirit\n    hath not flesh and bones, as ye see Me have. 40. And\n    when He had thus spoken, He shewed them His hands and\n    His feet. 41. And while they yet believed not for joy,\n    and wondered, He said unto them, Have ye here any\n    meat? 42. And they gave Him a piece of a broiled fish,\n    and of an honeycomb. 43. And He took it, and did eat\n    before them. 44. And He said unto them, These are the\n    words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with\n    you, that all things must be fulfilled, which were\n    written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and\n    in the psalms, concerning Me. 45. Then opened He their\n    understanding, that they might understand the\n    scriptures, 46. And said unto them, Thus it is written,\n    and thus it behoved Christ to suffer, and to rise from\n    the dead the third day: 47. And that repentance and\n    remission of sins should be preached in His name among\n    all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. 48. And ye are\n    witnesses of these things. 49. And, behold, I send the\n    promise of My Father upon you: but tarry ye in the\n    city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from\n    on high. 50. And He led them out as far as to Bethany;\n    and He lifted up His hands, and blessed them. 51. And\n    it came to pass, while He blessed them, He was parted\n    from them, and carried up into heaven. 52. And they\n    worshipped Him, and returned to Jerusalem with great\n    joy: 53. And were continually in the temple, praising\n    and blessing God.'--LUKE xxiv. 36-53.\n\nThere are no marks of time in this passage, and, for anything that\nappears, the narrative is continuous, and the Ascension might have\noccurred on the evening of the Resurrection. But neither is there\nanything to forbid interpreting this close of Luke's Gospel by the\nfuller details contained in the beginning of his other treatise, the\nActs, where the space of forty days interposes between the\nResurrection and the Ascension. It is but reasonable to suppose that\nan author's two books agree, when he gives no hint of change of\nopinion, and it is reasonable to regard the narrative in this\npassage as a summary of the whole period of forty days. If so, it\ncontains three things,--the first appearance of the risen Lord to\nthe assembled disciples (vs. 36-43), a condensed summary of the\nteachings of the risen Lord (vs. 44-49), and an equally compressed\nrecord of the Ascension (vs. 50-53).\n\nI. The proofs of the Resurrection graciously granted to incredulous\nlove (vs. 36-43). The disciples were probably assembled in the upper\nroom, where the Lord's Supper had been instituted, and which became\ntheir ordinary meeting-place (Acts i.) up till Pentecost. What\nsights that room saw! There, when night had come, they were\ndiscussing the strange reports of the Resurrection, when, all\nsuddenly, they saw Jesus, not coming or moving, but standing in the\nmidst. Had He come in unnoticed by them in their eager talk? The\ndoors were shut. How had this calm Presence become visible all at\nonce?\n\nSo little were they the enthusiastic, credulous people whom modern\ntheories which explain away the Resurrection assume them to have\nbeen, that even His familiar voice in His familiar salutation,\ntenfold more significant now than ever before, did not wake belief\nthat it was verily He. They fled to the ready refuge of supposing\nthat they saw 'a spirit.' Our Lord has no rebukes for their\nincredulity, but patiently resumes His old task of instruction, and\ncondescends to let them have the evidence of two senses, not\nshrinking from their investigating touch. When even these proofs\nwere seen by Him to be insufficient, He added the yet more cogent\none of 'eating before them.' Then they were convinced.\n\nNow their incredulity is important, and the acknowledgment shows the\nsimple historical good faith of the narrator. A witness who at first\ndisbelieved is all the more trustworthy. These hopeless mourners who\nhad forgotten all Christ's prophecies of His Resurrection, and were\nso fixed in their despair that the two from Emmaus could not so far\nkindle a gleam of hope as to make them believe that their Lord stood\nbefore them, were not the kind of people in whom hallucination would\noperate, as modern deniers of the Resurrection make them out to have\nbeen. What changed their mood? A fancy? Surely nothing less than a\nsolid fact. Hallucination may lay hold on a solitary, morbid mind,\nbut it does not attack a company, and it scarcely reaches to\nfancying touch and the sight of eating.\n\nNote Luke's explanation of the persistent incredulity, as being 'for\njoy.' It is like his notice that the three in Gethsemane 'slept for\nsorrow.' Great emotion sometimes produces effects opposite to what\nmight have been expected. Who can wonder that the mighty fact which\nturned the black smoke of despair into bright flame should have\nseemed too good to be true? The little notice brings the disciples\nnear to our experience and sympathy. Christ's loving forbearance and\ncondescending affording of more than sufficient evidence show how\nlittle changed He was by Death and Resurrection. He is as little\nchanged by sitting at the right hand of God. Still He is patient\nwith our slow hearts. Still He meets our hesitating faith with\nlavish assurances. Still He lets us touch Him, if not with the hand\nof sense, with the truer contact of spirit, and we may have as firm\npersonal experience of the reality of His life and Presence as had\nthat wondering company in the upper room.\n\nII. Verses 44-49 are best taken as a summary of the forty days'\nteaching. They fall into stages which are distinctly separated.\nFirst we have (ver. 44) the reiteration of Christ's earlier\nteaching, which had been dark when delivered, and now flashed up\ninto light when explained by the event. 'These are my words which I\nspake,' and which you did not understand or note. Jesus asserts that\nHe is the theme of all the ancient revelation. If we suppose that\nthe present arrangement of the Old Testament existed then, its\npresent three divisions are named; namely, Law, Prophets, and\nHagiographa, as represented by its chief member. But, in any case,\nHe lays His hand on the whole book, and declares that He, and His\nDeath as sacrifice, are inwrought into its substance. 'The testimony\nof Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.' Whatever views we hold as to\nthe date and manner of origin of the Old Testament books, we miss\nthe most pregnant fact about them if we fail to recognise that they\nall point onwards to Him.\n\nAnother stage is marked by that remarkable expression, 'He opened\ntheir mind.' His teaching was not, like ours, from without only. He\ngave not merely instruction, but inspiration. It was not enough to\nspread truth before the disciples. He did more; He made them able to\nreceive it. He gives no lesser gifts from the throne than He gave in\nthe upper room, and we may receive, if our minds are kept expectant\nand in touch with Him, the same inward eye to see wondrous things\nout of the Word.\n\nVerse 46, by its repetition of 'and He said,' seems to point to\nanother stage, in which the teaching as to the meaning of the Old\nTestament passes into instructions for the future. Already Jesus had\nhinted at the cessation of the old close intercourse in that\npathetic 'while I was yet with you,' and now He goes on to outline\nthe functions and equipment of the disciples in the future period of\nHis absence. As to the past sufferings, He indicates a double\nnecessity for them,--one based on their having been predicted;\nanother, deeper, based on the fitness of things. These sufferings\nmade the preaching of repentance and forgiveness possible, and\nimposed on His followers the obligation of preaching His name to all\nthe world. Without the Cross His servants would have no gospel.\nHaving the Cross, His servants are bound to publish it everywhere.\n\nThe universal reach of His atonement is implied in the commission.\nThe sacrifice for the world's sin is the sole ground of remission of\nsin, and is to be proclaimed to every creature. Mark that here the\nsame word is employed in connection with proclaiming Christ's Death\nas in John's version of this saying (John xx. 23), which is misused\nas a fortress of the priestly power of absolution. The plain\ninference is that the servant's power of remission is exercised by\npreaching the Master's death of expiation.\n\nThe ultimate reach of the message is to be to all nations; the\nbeginning of the universal gospel is to be at Jerusalem. The whole\nhistory of the world and the Church lies between these two. By that\ncommand to begin at Jerusalem, the connection of the Old with the\nNew is preserved, the Jewish prerogative honoured, the path made\neasier for the disciples, the development of the Church brought into\nunison with their natural sentiments and capacities.\n\nThe spirit of the commandment remains still imperative. 'The eyes of\na fool are in the ends of the earth.' A wise and Christlike\nbeneficence will not gaze far afield, and neglect things close at\nour doors. The scoff at the supporters of foreign missions, as if\nthey quixotically went abroad when they should work at home, has\nno point even as regards Christian practice, for it is the people\nwho work for the distant heathen who also toil for home ones; but it\nhas still less ground in regard to Christian conceptions of duty,\nfor the Lord of the harvest has bidden the reapers begin with the\nfields nearest them.\n\nThe equipment for work is investiture with divine power. A partial\nbestowment of the Spirit, which is the Father's promise, took place\nwhile Jesus spoke. 'I send' refers to something done at the moment;\nbut the fuller clothing with that garment of power was to be waited\nfor in expectancy and desire. No man can do the Christian work of\nwitnessing for and of Christ without that clothing with power. It\nwas granted as an abiding gift on Pentecost. It needs perpetual\nrenewal. We may all have it. Without it, eloquence, learning, and\nall else, are but as sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal.\n\nIII. Verses 50-53 give us the transcendent miracle which closes the\nearthly life of Jesus. We cannot here enter on the large questions\nwhich it raises, but must content ourselves with simply pointing to\nthe salient features of Luke's condensed account. The mention of the\nplace as 'over against Bethany' recalls the many memories of that\nvillage where Jesus had found His nearest approach to a home, where\nHe had exercised His stupendous life-giving power, whence He had set\nout to the upper room and the near Cross. His last act was to bless\nHis followers. He is the High-priest for ever, and these uplifted\nhands meant a sacreder thing than the affectionate good wishes of a\ndeparting friend. He gives the blessings which He invokes. His wish\nis a conveyance of good.\n\nThe hands remained in the attitude of benediction while He ascended,\nand the last sight of Him, as the cloud wrapped Him round, showed\nHim shedding blessing from them. He continues that attitude and act\ntill He comes again. Two separate motions are described in verse 51.\nHe was parted from them,--that is, withdrew some little distance on\nthe mountain, that all might see, and none might hinder, His\ndeparture; and 'was carried up into heaven' by a slow upward\nmovement, as the word implies. Contrast this with Elijah's rapture.\nThere was no need of fiery chariot or whirlwind to lift Jesus to the\nheavens. He went up where He was before, returning to the glory\nwhich He had with the Father before the world was. The end matches\nthe beginning. The supernatural birth corresponds with the\nsupernatural departure.\n\nWe have to think of that Ascension as the entrance of corporeal\nhumanity into the divine glory, as the beginning of His heavenly\nactivity for the world, as the token of His work being triumphantly\ncompleted, as the prophecy and pledge of immortal life like His own\nfor all who love Him. Therefore we may share the joy which flooded\nthe lately sorrowful disciples' hearts, and, like them, should make\nall life sacred, and be continually in the Temple, blessing God, and\nhave the deep roots of our lives hid with Christ in the glory.\n\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S WITNESSES\n\n\n    'Ye are witnesses of these things. 49. And, behold, I\n    send the promise of My Father upon you: but tarry ye\n    in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with\n    power from on high.'--LUKE xxiv. 48, 49.\n\nLuke's account of the Resurrection and subsequent forty days is so\nconstructed as to culminate in this appointment of the disciples to\ntheir high functions and equipment for it, by the gift of the Holy\nSpirit. The Evangelist has evidently in view his second 'treatise,'\nand is here preparing the link of connection between it and the\nGospel. Hence this very condensed summary of many conversations lays\nstress upon these points--the fulfilment of prophecy in Christ's\nlife and death; the world-wide destination of the blessings to be\nproclaimed in His name; and the appointment and equipment of the\ndisciples.\n\nThe same notes are again struck in the beginning of the Acts of the\nApostles. The same charge to the disciples, when viewed in\nconnection with Christ's life on earth, may be considered as its end\nand aim; and when viewed in connection with the history of the\nChurch, as its foundation and beginning. So that we are following in\nthe line plainly marked out for us by the Evangelist himself, when\nwe take these words as containing a charge and a gift as really\nbelonging to all Christians in this day as to the little group on\nthe road to Bethany, to whom they were first addressed on the\nAscension morning. There are, then, but two points to be looked at\nin the words before us; the one the function of the Church, and the\nother its equipment for it.\n\nI. The task of the Church.\n\nNow, of course, I need not remind you that there is a special sense\nin which the office of witness-bearing belonged only to those who\nhad seen Christ in the flesh, and could testify to the fact of His\nResurrection. I need not dwell upon that further than to remark that\nthe fact that the designation of the first preachers of the Gospels\nwas 'witnesses' is significant of a great deal. For witness implies\nfact, and the nature of their message, as being the simple\nattestation to the occurrence of things that truly happened in the\nearth, is wrapped up in that name. They were not speculators,\nphilosophers, moralists, legislators. They had neither to argue nor\nto dissertate, nor to lay down rules for conduct, nor to ventilate\ntheir own fancies. They were witnesses, and their business was to\ntell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. All\ndoctrine and all morality will come second. The first form of the\nGospel is, 'How that Jesus Christ died for our sins according to the\nScriptures, and that He was raised again the third day, according to\nthe Scriptures.' First, a history; then a religion; then a morality;\nand morality and religion because it is a history of redemption.\n\nThese early Christians were witnesses in another sense. The very\nexistence of the Church at all was a testimony to that supernatural\nfact without which it could not have been. We are often told in\nrecent years that the belief in the Resurrection grew slowly up\namongst the early Christians. What became of the Church whilst it\nwas growing? What held it together? How comes it that the fate of\nChrist's followers was not the fate of the followers of Theudas and\nother people that rose up, 'boasting themselves to be somebody,'\nwhose followers as a matter of course, 'came to nought' when the\nleader was slain? There is only one answer. 'He rose again from the\ndead.' Else there is no possibility of accounting for the fact that\nthe Church as a distinct organisation survived Calvary. The\nResurrection was no gradually evolved hardening of desire and fancy\ninto fact, but it was the foundation upon which the Church was\nbuilt. 'Ye'--by your words and by your existence as a community--'are\nthe witnesses of these things.'\n\nBut that is somewhat apart from the main purpose of my remarks now.\nI desire rather to emphasise the thought that, with modifications in\nform, the substance of the functions of these early believers\nremains still the office and dignity of all Christian men. 'Ye are\nthe witnesses of these things.'\n\nAnd what is the manner of testimony that devolves upon you and me,\nChristian friends? Witness by your lives. Most men take their\nnotions of what Christianity is from the average of the Christians\nround about them. And, if we profess to be Christ's followers, we\nshall be taken as tests and specimen cases of the worth of the\nreligion that we profess. 'Ye are the Epistles of Christ,' and if\nthe writing be blurred and blotted and often half unintelligible,\nthe blame will be laid largely at His door. And men will say, and\nsay rightly, 'If that is all that Christianity can do, we are just\nas well without it.' It is our task to 'adorn the doctrine of\nChrist,' marvellous as it may seem that anything in our poor lives\ncan commend that fairest of all beautiful things--and to commend it\nto some hearts. Just as some poor black-and-white engraving of a\nmasterpiece  of the painter's brush may, to an eye untrained in the\nharmony of colour, be a better interpretation of the artist's\nmeaning than his own proper work, so our feeble copies of the\ntranscendent splendour and beauty may suit some purblind and\nuntrained eyes better than the serener and loftier perfection which\nwe humbly copy. 'We are the witnesses of these things.' And depend\nupon it, mightier than all direct effort, and more unusual than all\nutterances of lip, is the witness of the life of all professing\nChristians to the reality of the facts upon which they say they base\ntheir faith.\n\nBut beyond that, there is yet another department of testimony which\nbelongs to each of us, and that is the attestation of personal\nexperience. That is a form of Christian service which any and every\nChristian can put forth. You cannot all be preachers, in the\ntechnical sense. You cannot all be thinkers and strong champions,\nargumentative or otherwise, for God's truth. But I will tell you\nwhat you all can be. You can all say, 'Come and hear all ye; and I\nwill declare what He hath done for my soul.' It does not take\neloquence, gifts, learning, intellectual grasp of the doctrinal side\nof Christian truth for a man to say, as the first preacher of Christ\nupon earth said, 'Brother! we have found the Messias.' That was all,\nand that was enough. That you can say, if you _have_ found Him,\nand after all, the witness of personal experience of what faith in\nJesus Christ can make of a man, and do for a man, is the strongest\nand most universal weapon placed in the hands of Christian men and\nwomen. There is nothing that goes so far as that, if it be backed up\nby a life corresponding, which, like a sounding-board behind a man,\nflings his words out into the world'; 'Whether this man be a sinner\nor no I know not'; 'I leave all that talk about heights and depths\nof argument and controversy to other people, but this one thing I\nknow'--not I _think,_ not I _believe,_ not I am disposed to come to\nthe conclusion that--but 'this one thing I _know_, that whereas I\nwas blind now I see.' There is no getting over that! 'Ye are the\nwitnesses of these things.' And do not be ashamed of your function,\nnor slothful nor cowardly in its discharge.\n\nMay I say a word here about the grounds on which this obligation to\nwitness rests for us? If Jesus Christ had never said, 'Go ye into\nall the world and preach the Gospel to every creature,' it would not\nhave made a bit of difference as to the imperative duty that is laid\nupon all Christian men; for that arises, not from that command,\nwhich only gives voice to a previous obligation, but it flows, from\nthe very nature of things, from the message that we receive from our\nlinks with other men and from the constitution and make of our own\nnatures.\n\nIt flows directly from the gift that we have received. There are\nplenty of truths which, _per se_, carry with them no obligation\nto impart them. But any truth in which is wrapped up the possible\nhappiness of another man, any truth which bears upon moral or\nspiritual subjects, carries with it the strongest obligation to\nimpart it. We have such large insights into God and His love as the\nGospel gives us, not that we may eat our morsel alone, or merely sun\nourselves in the light, and expatiate in the warmth of the beams\nthat come to us, but that we may share them with all around: 'God,\nwho commanded the light to shine out of darkness  hath shined into\nour hearts,' that we may 'give the light of the knowledge of the\nglory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.'\n\nThe obligation arises from the links that knit us all together. 'Am\nI my brother's keeper?' Why, the question answers itself. If he is\n_your_ 'brother,' you are certainly _his_ 'keeper.' And you cannot\nshuffle off the obligation by any irrelevant pitting of one field of\nChristian work against another; still less by any criticism, hostile\nor friendly, as it may be, of the methods of Christian work, or of the\nparity and elevation of the character and motives of the workers.\nHumanity is one, linked by a mystic chain, and every link of it should\nthrill by a common impulse; and through all the members there should\ncirculate a common life. That great thought is one of the gains that\nthe Gospel has brought us, and in the presence of it and our indebtedness\nand obligation to every man, woman, and child that bears the form of\nman, all geographical limits to Christian witnessing seem supremely\nabsurd and incongruous. You cannot get rid of your obligation by saying,\n'I do not care about foreign missions, I go in for home ones.' And you\ncannot get rid of it by chiming in an ignorant second to the talk\nthat has been going on lately, carping at or criticising methods of\nwork. It would be a very strange thing if we had hit all at once, in\nthe very beginning of an enterprise, upon the best of all possible\nmethods; and it would be a very strange thing if the mission-field\nis the only one where there are no lazy workers and selfish motives\nand unworthy occupants of high places. All that is true about home\nas it is about other places. But grant it all, and back comes the\nobligation based upon the nature of the truth that we have received,\nupon our links with our brethren, and upon our loyalty to our\nMaster, and it peals into the ears of every Christian man and woman:\n'Thou art a witness of these things'; and 'to this end wert thou\nborn again, that thou mightest bear witness to the truth.'\n\nAh, brethren! the issues of faithfulness to that high function are\nsweet and blessed and wonderful. A witnessing Christian will be a\nbelieving Christian; for there is no surer way to deepen my own\nconvictions about any moral or spiritual truth than to constitute\nmyself their humble servant to proclaim them. Whosoever is a\nbeliever should be an apostle, and if he is an apostle he will be\ntenfold a believer. There is nothing which will give a man a firmer\ngrasp of the Gospel for his own soul than when he finds that,\nministered by his humble efforts, it produces in other hearts the\nsame effects which he finds it working upon himself. There is no\npage in the great book of the evidences of the truth of Christianity\nmore conclusive than that which in the last century has been written\nby the experience of Christian missions. Let the objectors, Jannes\nand Jambres, who withstood Moses, let them do the same with their\nenchantments, and then we will discuss the questions of the truth of\nthe Gospel with them.\n\nNor need I do more than remind you of the highest of all blessed\nissues which is yet to come. 'Be thou faithful unto death and I will\ngive thee a crown of life.' Alas! alas! how many of us professing\nChristians will have to stand at last without that 'crown of\nrejoicing' which they wear who, by their poor work and witness, have\nwon some souls to the Master. Do you, Christian men, contemplate\nentering heaven alone, or bringing your sheaves with you? It will be\nsad to stand with hands empty then, because they were idle in the\ndays of the seed-basket and the reaping-hook, whilst those that\nsowed and those that reaped shall rejoice together. 'Ye are the\nwitnesses of these things': see to it that you do your work.\n\nII. And now, secondly, and briefly, note the equipment of the\nwitnesses for their task.\n\nOur Lord here distinguishes two stages in the endowment. Then and\nthere they receive the gift of the Divine Spirit, as is more fully\nrecorded in John's account of these last days, but that gift, rich\nand precious as it was, was not yet the full bestowment which they\nneeded for their task. That came on the day of Pentecost. Mark the\nvivid and picturesque word which our Lord here employs: 'Until ye be\n_clothed_ with power from on high.' That divine gift coming\ndown as a vesture, wraps and covers and hides their own weakness,\ntheir own naked and poor personality.\n\nI can only say a word or two about this matter. The same collocation\nof ideas--a witnessing Spirit by whose indwelling energy the\nChristian community becomes witnesses, is found (and has been\nexplained at length by me in former discourses) in the farewell\nwords of our Lord in the upper chamber. 'The Spirit of Truth which\nproceedeth from the Father, He shall bear witness of Me, and ye also\nshall bear witness because ye have been with Me from the beginning.'\n\nI need only remark here that the only power by which Christians can\ndischarge their work of witnessing in the world is the power which\nclothes them from above. The new life which Jesus Christ brings and\ngives to us is the only life which will avail for discharging this\noffice. Our self-will, the old life of nature, with all its\ndependence upon ourselves, is nought in reference to this task. But\nwhen that divine spark enters into men's hearts, then natural\nendowments are heightened into supernatural gifts, and new forces\nare developed, and new powers are bestowed and the earthen vessel is\nfilled with new treasure. Without it--and  there is a great deal of\nso-called Christian witnessing to-day without it--noise,\nadvertising, skill in getting up externals, and all the other\nunworthy methods which Christian churches sometimes stoop to adopt,\nare powerless, as they ought to be. You may accomplish a great deal\nby fussy activity which calls itself Christian earnestness, and has\nnot God's Spirit in it. But it is no more growth than are what the\nchildren call 'devil's puff-balls' which they find in the fields in\nthese autumn mornings; and it will go up in poisonous, brown dust\nlike these when it is pricked.\n\nThe one condition of Christian churches doing their Christian work\nis that they shall be clothed and filled with God's Spirit. Do not\nlet us rely on machinery; do not let us rely on externals; do not\nlet us rely on advertising tricks which might do very well for a\ncheap shop, but are all out of harmony with the work that we have to\ndo; but let us rely on this, and on this alone. Holding converse\nwith God and Christ, we shall come out of the secret place of the\nMost High with our faces glowing with the communion, and our lips on\nfire to proclaim the sweetnesses that lie within the shrine.\n\nOne word more and I have done. This clothing with the Spirit, which\nis the only fitness of the Church for its witnessing work, is only\nto be won by much solitary waiting. 'Tarry ye,' or as in the\noriginal it stands even more vividly, _'Sit ye still_ in the\ncity ... till ye be clothed.' It is because so many Christian\nworkers are so seldom alone with Christ that so much of their work\nis nought, and comes to nought. To draw apart from outward activity\ninto the solitary place, and sit with Him, is the only means by\nwhich we can keep up the freshness of our own spirits, and be fit\nfor His service. Mary was being trained for Martha's work when she\nsat at Christ's feet; but Martha could not do hers without being\n'troubled and careful,' because she was more accustomed to the work\nthan to the communion that would have made it light.\n\nSo, Christian friends, behold your task and your equipment. I\nbeseech you, who call yourselves Christ's servants, to lay to heart\nyour plain and unavoidable obligations. If you have found Jesus, you\nare as truly and as individually bound to proclaim Him as if a\ndefinite and direct divine command sounded in your ears. Your\npossession of the Gospel as the food of your own souls binds you to\nimpart it to all the famished. The call to witness comes as straight\nto you as it did to the young Pharisee on the road to Damascus when\nhe heard 'Saul! Saul!' called from the sky.\n\nMay you and I answer as he did, 'Lord! what wilt Thou have _me_\nto do!'\n\n\n\n\nTHE ASCENSION\n\n\n    'And He led them out as far as to Bethany, and He\n    lifted up His hands, and blessed them. 51. And it\n    came to pass, while He blessed them, He was parted\n    from them, and carried up into heaven.'\n    --LUKE xxiv. 50, 51.\n\n    'And when He had spoken these things, while they\n    beheld, He was taken up; and a cloud received Him\n    out of their sight.'--ACTS i. 9.\n\nTwo of the four Evangelists, viz., Matthew and John, have no record\nof the Ascension. But the argument which infers ignorance from\nsilence, which is always rash, is entirely discredited in this case.\nIt is impossible to believe that Matthew, who wrote as the last word\nof his gospel the great words, 'All power is given unto Me in heaven\nand in earth ... lo! I am with you alway....' was ignorant of the\nfact which alone makes these words credible. And it is equally\nimpossible to believe that the Evangelist who recorded the tender\nsaying to Mary, 'Go to My brethren, and say unto them I ascend to My\nFather, and your Father,' was ignorant of its fulfilment. The\nexplanation of the silence is to be sought in a quite different\ndirection. It comes from the fact that to the Evangelists, rightly,\nthe Ascension was but the prolongation and the culmination of the\nResurrection. That being recorded, there was no need for the\ndefinite record of this.\n\nThere is another singular point about these records, viz., that Luke\nhas two accounts, one in the end of his gospel, one in the beginning\nof Acts; and that these two accounts are obviously different. The\ndifferences have been laid hold of as a weapon with which to attack\nthe veracity of both accounts. But there again a little\nconsideration clears the path. The very places in which they\nrespectively occur might have solved the difficulty, for the one is\nat the end of a book, and the other is at the beginning of a book;\nand so, naturally, the one regards the Ascension as the end of the\nearthly life, and the other as the beginning of the heavenly. The\none is all suffused with evening light; the other is radiant with\nthe promise of a new day. The one is the record of a tender\nfarewell, in the other the sense of parting has almost been absorbed\nin the forward look to the new phase of relationship which is to\nbegin. If Luke had been a secular biographer, the critics would have\nbeen full of admiration at the delicacy of his touch, and the\nfineness of keeping in the two narratives, the picture being the\nsame in both, and the scheme of colouring being different. But as he\nis only an Evangelist, they fall foul of him for his 'discrepancies.'\nIt is worth our while to take both his points of view.\n\nBut there is another thing to be remembered, that, as the appendix\nof his account of the Ascension in the book of the Acts, Luke tells\nus of the angel's message;--'This  same Jesus ... shall ... return.'\nSo there are three points of view which have to be combined in order\nto get the whole significance of that mighty fact: the Ascension as\nan end; the Ascension as a beginning; the Ascension as the pledge of\nthe return. Now take these three points.\n\nI. We have the aspect of the Ascension as an end.\n\nThe narrative in Luke's gospel, in its very brevity, does yet\ndistinctly suggest that retrospective and valedictory tone. Note\nhow, for instance, we are told the locality--'He led them out as far\nas Bethany.' The name at once strikes a chord of remembrance. What\nmemories clustered round it, and how natural it was that the parting\nshould take place there, not merely because the crest of the Mount\nof Olives hid the place from the gaze of the crowded city; but\nbecause it was within earshot almost of the home where so much of\nthe sweet earthly fellowship, that was now to end, had passed. The\nsame note of regarding the scene as being the termination of those\nblessed years of dear and familiar intercourse is struck in the\nfact, so human, so natural, so utterly inartificial, that He lifted\nHis hands to bless them, moved by the same impulse with which so\noften we have wrung a hand at parting, and stammered, 'God bless\nyou!' And the same valedictory hue is further deepened by the fact\nthat what Luke puts first is not the Ascension, but the parting. 'He\nwas parted from them,' that is the main fact; 'and He was carried up\ninto heaven,' comes almost as a subordinate one. At all events it is\nregarded mainly as being the medium by which the parting was\neffected.\n\nSo the aspect of the Ascension thus presented is that of a tender\nfarewell; the pathetic conclusion of three long, blessed years. And\nyet that is not all, for the Evangelist adds a very enigmatic word:\n'They returned to Jerusalem with great joy.' Glad because He had\ngone? No. Glad merely because He had gone up? No. The saying is a\nriddle, left at the end of the book, for readers to ponder, and is a\nsubtle link of connection with what is to be written in the next\nvolume, when the aspect of the Ascension as an end is subordinate,\nand its aspect as a beginning is prominent. So regarded, it filled\nthe disciples with joy. Thus you see, I think, that without any\nillegitimate straining of the expressions of the text, we do come to\nthe point of view from which, to begin with, this great event must\nbe looked at. We have to take the same view, and to regard that\nAscension not only as the end of an epoch of sweet friendship, but\nas the solemn close and culmination of the whole earthly life. I\nhave no time to dwell upon the thoughts that come crowding into\none's mind when we take that point of view. But let me suggest, in\nthe briefest way, one or two of them.\n\nHere is an end which circles round to, and is of a piece with, the\nbeginning. 'I came forth from the Father, and am come into the\nworld; again, I leave the world, and go unto the Father.' The\nAscension corresponds with, and meets the miracle of, the\nIncarnation. And as the Word who became flesh, came by the natural\npath of human birth, and entered in through the gate by which we all\nenter, and yet came as none else has come, by His own will, in the\nmiracle of His Incarnation, so at the end, He passed out from life\nthrough the gate by which we all pass, and 'was obedient unto death,\neven the death of the Cross,' and yet He passed likewise on a path\nwhich none but Himself has trod, and ascended up to heaven, whence\nHe had descended to earth. He came into the world, not as leaving\nthe Father, for He is 'the Son of Man which is in heaven,' and He\nascended up on high, not as leaving us, for He is 'with us alway,\neven to the end of the world.' Thus the Incarnation and the\nAscension support each other.\n\nBut let me remind you how, in this connection, we have the very same\ncombination of lowliness and gentleness with majesty and power which\nruns through the whole of the story of the earthly life of Jesus\nChrist. Born in a stable, and waited on by angels, the subject of\nall the humiliations of humanity, and flashing forth through them\nall the power of divinity, He ascends on high at last, and yet with\nno pomp nor visible splendour to the world, but only in the presence\nof a handful of loving hearts, choosing some dimple of the hill\nwhere its folds hid them from the city. As He came quietly and\nsilently into the world, so quietly and silently He passed thence.\nIn this connection there is more than the picturesque contrast\nbetween the rapture of Elijah, with its whirlwind, and chariot of\nfire and horses of fire, and the calm, slow rising, by no external\nmedium raised, of the Christ. It was fit that the mortal should be\nswept up into the unfamiliar heaven by the pomp of angels and the\nchariot of fire. It was fit that when Jesus ascended to His 'own\ncalm home, His habitation from eternity,' there should be nothing\nvisible but His own slowly rising form, with the hands uplifted, to\nshed benediction on the heads of the gazers beneath.\n\nIn like manner, regarding the Ascension as an end, may we not say\nthat it is the seal of heaven impressed on the sacrifice of the\nCross? 'Wherefore God also hath highly exalted Him, and given Him a\nName, which is above every name; that at the Name of Jesus every\nknee should bow.' We find in that intimate connection between the\nCross and the Ascension, the key to the deep saying which carries\nreferences to both in itself, when the Lord spoke of Himself as\nbeing lifted up and drawing all men unto Him. The original primary\nreference no doubt was to His elevation on the Cross, 'as Moses\nlifted up the serpent.' But the final, and at the time of its being\nspoken, the mysterious, reference was to the fact that in descending\nto the depth of humiliation He was rising to the height of glory.\nThe zenith of the Ascension is the rebound from the nadir of the\nCross. The lowliness of the stoop measures the loftiness of the\nelevation, and the Son of Man was glorified at the moment when the\nSon of Man was most profoundly abased. The Cross and the Ascension,\nif I might use so violent a figure, are like the twin stars, of\nwhich the heavens present some examples, one dark and lustreless,\none flashing with radiancy of light, but knit together by an\ninvisible vinculum, and revolving round a common centre. When He\n'parted from them, and was carried up into heaven,' He ended the\nhumiliation which caused the elevation.\n\nAnd then, again, I might suggest that, regarded in its aspect as an\nend, this Ascension is also the culmination and the natural\nconclusion of the Resurrection. As I have said, the Scripture point\nof view with reference to these two is not that they are two, but\nthat the one is the starting point of the line of which the other is\nthe goal. The process which began when He rose from the dead,\nwhatever view we may take of the condition of His earthly life\nduring the forty days of parenthesis, could have no rational and\nintelligible ending, except the Ascension. Thus we should think of\nit not only as the end of a sweet friendship, but as the end of the\ngracious manifestation of the earthly life, the counterpart of the\nIncarnation and descent to earth, the end of the Cross and the\nculmination of the Resurrection. The Son of Man, the same that also\ndescended into the lowest parts of the earth, ascended up where He\nwas before.\n\nNow let us turn to the other aspect which the Evangelist gives, when\nHe ceases to be an Evangelist, and becomes a Church Historian.\n_Then_ he considers\n\nII. The Ascension as a beginning.\n\nThe place which it holds in the Acts of the Apostles explains the\npoint of view from which it is to be regarded. It is the foundation\nof everything that the writer has afterwards to say. It is the basis\nof the Church. It is the ground of all the activity which Christ's\nservants put forth. Not only its place explains this aspect of it,\nbut the very first words of the book itself do the same. 'The former\ntreatise have I made ... of all that Jesus began both to do and\nteach'--and now I am to tell you of an Ascension, and of all that\nJesus continued to do and teach. So that the book is the history of\nthe work of the Lord, who was able to do that work, just because He\nhad ascended up on high. The same impression is produced if we\nponder the conversation which precedes the account of the Ascension\nin the book of Acts, which, though it touches the same topics as are\ntouched by the words that precede the account in the Gospel, yet\npresents them in a different aspect, and suggests the endowments\nwith which the Christian community is to be invested, and the work\nwhich therefore it is to do, in consequence of the Ascension of\nJesus Christ. The Apostle Peter had caught that thought when, on the\nday of Pentecost, he said, 'He, being exalted to the right hand of\nthe Father, hath shed forth this which ye see and hear,' and\nthroughout the whole book the same point of view is kept up. 'The\nwork that is done upon earth He doeth it all Himself.'\n\nSo there is in _this_ narrative nothing about parting, there is\nnothing about blessing. There is simply the ascending up and the\nsignificant addition of the reception into the cloud, which, whilst\nHe was yet plainly visible, and not dwindled by distance into a\nspeck, received Him out of their sight. The cloud was the symbol of\nthe Divine Presence, which had hung over the Tabernacle, which had\nsat between the cherubim, which had wrapped the shepherds and the\nangels on the hillside, which had come down in its brightness on the\nMount of Transfiguration, and which now, as the symbol of the Divine\nPresence, received the ascending Lord, in token to the men that\nstood gazing up into heaven, that He had passed to the right hand of\nthe Majesty on high.\n\nThus we have to think of that Ascension as being the groundwork and\nfoundation of all the world-wide and age-long energy which the\nliving Christ is exercising to-day. As one of the other Evangelists,\nor at least, the appendix to his gospel, puts it, He ascended up on\nhigh, and 'they went everywhere preaching the word, the Lord also\nworking with them, and confirming the word with signs following.' It\nis the ascended Christ who sends the Spirit upon men; it is the\nascended Christ who opens men's hearts to hear; it is the ascended\nChrist who sends forth His messengers to the Gentiles; it is the\nascended Christ who, to-day, is the energy of all the Church's\npowers, the whiteness of all the Church's purity, the vitality of\nall the Church's life. He lives, and therefore, there is a Christian\ncommunity on the face of the earth. He lives, and therefore it will\nnever die.\n\nSo we, too, have to look to that risen Lord as being the power by\nwhich alone any of us can do either great or small work in His\nChurch. That Ascension is symbolically put as being to 'the right\nhand of God.' What is the right hand of God? The divine omnipotence.\nWhere is it? Everywhere. What does sitting at the right hand of God\nmean? Wielding the powers of omnipotence. And so He says, 'All power\nis given unto Me'; and He is working a work to-day, wider in its\naspects than, though it be the application and consequence of, the\nwork upon the Cross. He cried there, 'It is finished!' but 'the work\nof the ascended Jesus' will never be finished until 'the kingdoms\nof this world are become the kingdom of our God and of His Christ.'\n\nThere are other aspects of His work in heaven which space will not\nallow me to dwell upon, though I cannot but mention them. By the\nAscension Christ begins to prepare a place for us. How could any of\nus stand in the presence of that eternal Light if He were not there?\nWe should be like some savage or rustic swept up suddenly and put\ndown in the middle of the glittering ring of courtiers round a\nthrone, unless we could lift our eyes and recognise a known and\nloving face there. Where Christ is, I can be. He has taken one human\nnature up into the Glory, and other human natures will therefore\nfind in it a home.\n\nThe ascended Christ, to use the symbolism which one of the New\nTestament writers employs for illustration of a thought far greater\nthan the symbol--has like a High Priest passed within the veil,\n'there to appear in the presence of God for us.' And the\nintercession which is far more than petition, and is the whole\naction of that dear Lord who identifies as with Himself, and whose\nmighty work is ever present before the divine mind as an element in\nHis dealings, that intercession is being carried on for ever for us\nall. So, 'set your affection on things above, where Christ is,\nsitting at the right hand of God.' So, expect His help in your work,\nand do the work which He has left you to carry on here. So, face\ndeath and the dim kingdoms beyond, without quiver and without doubt,\nassured that where the treasure is, there the heart will be also;\nand that where the Master is, there the servants who follow in His\nsteps will be also at last.\n\nAnd now there is the third aspect here of\n\nIII. The Ascension as being the pledge of the return.\n\nThe two men in white apparel that stood by gently rebuked the gazers\nfor gazing into heaven. They would not have rebuked them for gazing,\nif they could have seen Him, but to look into the empty heaven was\nuseless. And they added the reason why the heavens need not be\nlooked at, as long as there is the earth to stand on: 'For this same\nJesus whom ye have seen go into heaven shall so come in like manner\nas ye have seen Him go.' Note the emphatic declaration of identity;\n'this _same_ Jesus.' Note the use of the simple human name;\n'this same _Jesus_,' and recall the thoughts that cluster round\nit, of the ascended humanity, and the perpetual humanity of the\nascended Lord, 'the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever,' Note\nalso the strong assertion, of visible, corporeal return: 'Shall so\ncome in _like_ manner as ye have seen Him go.' That return is\nno metaphor, no mere piece of rhetoric, it is not to be eviscerated\nof its contents by being taken as a synonym for the diffusion of His\ninfluence all over a regenerated race, but it points to the return\nof the Man Jesus locally, corporeally, visibly. 'We believe that\nThou shalt come to be our Judge'; we believe that Thou wilt come to\ntake Thy servants home.\n\nThe world has not seen the last of Jesus Christ. Such an Ascension,\nafter such a life, cannot be the end of Him. 'As it is appointed\nunto all men once to die, and after death the Judgment, so Christ\nalso, having been once offered to bear the sins of many, shall\nappear the second time, without sin unto salvation.' As inevitably\nas for sinful human nature judgment follows death, so inevitably for\nthe sinless Man, who is the sacrifice for the world's sins, His\njudicial return will follow His atoning work, and He will come\nagain, having received the Kingdom, to take account of His servants,\nand to perfect their possession of the salvation which by His\nIncarnation, Passion, Resurrection, and Ascension, He wrought for\nthe world.\n\nTherefore, brethren, one sweet face, and one great fact--the face of\nthe Christ, the fact of the Cross--should fill the past. One sweet\nface, one great fact--the face of the Christ, the fact of His\nPresence with us all the days--should fill the present. One regal\nface, one great hope, should fill the future; the face of the King\nthat sitteth upon the throne, the hope that He will come again, and\n'so we shall be ever with the Lord.'\n\n\nEND OF VOL. II.","title":"Expositions of Holy Scripture: St. Luke","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":253217}