SUNDAY AFTER ASCENSION.
For whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words, of him shall the Son of Man be ashamed when He shall come in His own glory, and in His Father's, and of the holy angels.—Luke 9, 26.
For whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words, of him shall the Son of Man be ashamed when He shall come in His own glory, and in His Father's, and of the holy angels.—Luke 9, 26.
It is an awful doom that our text bids us to look forward to, that when Christ comes in His glory and in His Father's and of His holy angels, then He shall be ashamed of us, refuse to acknowledge us, and yet we are inclined to think, at first sight, that, so far as it depends on our being ashamed of Christ, there is not so much fear. There is much that is wrong among us. But being ashamed of Christ, ashamed of being known as His disciples, ashamed of His name and religion, does not seem one of our shortcomings and dangers. Were not the words rather applicable to the early disciples than to us and our days?
And true it is, as the Gospel to-day presents, that confessing Christ was a very different thing then from what it is now. When first the Gospel was preached among men, not to be ashamed of Christ meant nothing more or less than that a man was ready to leave everything in this world and to die for Christ. When all the powers of earth, Jews and Gentiles, were arrayed against the new faith, when men were brought before kings and rulers, and simply told that, unless they would deny Christ, they would be thrown to the wild beasts, or buried alive, or be sent to prison to labor like convicts all the rest of their days; or when almost everybody took it for granted that the Gospel was mere folly, and that every one who followed it was the most stupid and obstinate of bigots; in other words, when believing andconfessing Christ meant to be laughed at, jeered at, mockery, persecution, and martyrdom,—at such seasons we can understand the suitableness and solemnity of Christ's warning to them. But those times, thank God, have passed away; the Gospel is no longer met with fagot and sword. The open profession of religion does no one any hurt in life, exposes him to no special mockery or insult, causes no unfavorable or unpleasant feelings towards him.
Yes, so far from its going against him, he will not infrequently stand higher and have more credit. And yet, let us not be led into mistakes. This easiness in being religious, which without contradiction is greater nowadays than it ever was in the world since Christ came into it, must not blind us to the spirit of our Lord's words. They have a meaning still, and, while men are men, will continue to have to the world's end.I. In what way, or ways, they apply to us;II. what is the one main lesson they would bring home to us,—that let us, under the guidance and blessing of the Holy Spirit, consider.
There is, my beloved, extant among us these days a confession of Christ that is general. By general we mean it does not like to go into particulars. And it is in the general that we are so brave and bold in professing not to be ashamed of Christ. Take, to make the test, that upon which our religion rests, the Holy Bible. People respect it as a sacred book; something is missing in a Christian home if it is not there; they reverence it in the general. But when it comes to the particular, how little is it really pondered; how little do men feel bound by its particular statements; how easily are its direct communications set aside when they conflict with their notions or feelings or wishes.
Did God actually create man out of the dust of the ground, or is he the creature of evolution? Is the account of the fall of man into sin to be taken literally, or is it only an allegory, a poetic interpretation, a childish and primitive way to account for sin and its sad consequences? Is there a personal devil, or is the devil only to stand for evil in the abstract? The narrative of Balaam, or Jonah, of the men in the fiery oven,—are they to be received as they read? And when it comes to the New Testament,—how are we to understand the conception of the virgin birth of our Savior? how His glorious ascension? how His descent into hell? how His words of the Sacrament: "Take, eat; this is my body. Take, drink; this is my blood," literally orfiguratively, "is" meaning "represents"? Does Baptism work forgiveness of sin? Is it the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Ghost, as St. Paul says to Titus, chapter 3? Go, and question among Christ's followers, consult the thousands of books that are flooding the market,—what do they teach? They are ashamed to admit that God created the world in six days of twenty-four hours each; it's unscientific; they blush at the accounts of Balaam's ass and of Jonah's whale. The blood doctrine of the cross, that Christ has redeemed us by His holy, precious blood and by His innocent suffering and death, is repugnant to many. Christ's body and blood in the Sacrament, Baptism the means of a new birth,—they are abashed to acknowledge such teachings. It is the tendency of the age to acknowledge everything in general, and in particular nothing, nothing distinct and definite. People are ashamed of the words of Christ. Why tinker and twist in order not to make the writings say but the one thing they do say? What is this but being ashamed?
And as in the doctrine, so in matters of religious duty. To speak first, in general. We come to church. Others around us do the same. It's the fashion to do so. But let us ask ourselves, What if everybody around us did not do so? There are places and associations where it is not customary; some of us get among such also: no one goes;—at the very utmost one service a Sunday is thought the full limit. At such times are we shy of doing differently from other people when we know and feel what is right? What is this but being, in reality, ashamed of His words? Or take the Lord's Table,—how many know that they ought to come to the Lord's Table, know and acknowledge what the Lord's command is, and not only that, but in their hearts would like to come, and yet they stay away because they are ashamed to do what other people don't do, of being asked, perchance, sneering questions, of its being said that they are seeking to set themselves up and making more pretense of religion than their neighbors. What is this but staying away because they are ashamed to confess Christ and His words before men?
One instance would I emphasize this morning in particular, and that is church-membership. People are ashamed of the church, not in general,—they regard it as a charitable institution. They have no objection to go there, nor do they mind, if the minister is a fascinating speaker, to part with a little spare change. But there is where the connection ends. With many—their numberis tens of thousands—the doctrine is, that one can be just as good and hopeful outside of the Church as in it, that as long as they maintain a general uprightness of behavior, do not defraud any one, live on kindly terms with their neighbors, act as honorable citizens and profess belief in a Higher Being, it does not matter whether they just believe this or that doctrine or not, whether they are confirmed or not, whether they attend public worship, or consult their own ease and pleasure on that subject. Indeed, they can see no difference between conformity to the moral teachings and rules of some order, Odd Fellows' associations or Masonic fraternity, and the Church of Christ. In a word, they confound mere outward respectability and godliness with the teachings of Christianity, and place man's organizations, secular societies, on a common par and level with God's organization, Christ's Church, and they quite forget that, in matters of religion and sound morality, it is not for them, nor any man, to point out the way and set up the standard, but humbly to bow to the requirements, and walk in the way which God has ordained and appointed for us to walk in.
And now turn to Christ and His Word,—what does it say? The teaching there is, that outside of His Church, and apart from those acts of Baptism, Holy Communion, public worship, and public identification with the Lord's people, there is no right Christianity and confession of Him. The statement and impression throughout is to this effect that a man's religion is spurious and sorely lacking if it does not bring him into the common fellowship of believers, if it does not lead him to live and move and have his being in observance of the Christian ordinances, and maintaining Christian recognition and membership in the communion of the saints. Can any one think for a moment that in those early days of persecution, when it meant either—or, life or death, people distinguished between being a Christian or a church-member? To be one meant to be the other.
And now go and ask people to join the Church. Ask our young members, when arriving at the age of twenty-one years, to come in and help, to support with means and vote, give a little of their time, and see whether they regard it a privilege and a delight, a God-enjoined duty. In general there is churchliness; and in particular flimsy excuses, pretexts, subterfuges are offered.
And why, to come to our next consideration, why is this? What is the cause? Why this distinction between the early disciplesand our present-day confessors of Christ? There was one thing they possessed, which is now so largely lacking,—what is it? Christianity those days, we heard, meant personal sacrifice, persecution, martyrdom. Thank God that form is now over. To-day we see not the Church weeping in sackcloth and ashes at the graves of her slaughtered children, nor hear the Coliseum ringing with the wild shouts: "Christianos ad leones: Christians to the lions!" And yet, while not so striking, something of the same vigorous principle, of the same spirit, must characterize the conduct of every Christian. "If any man will follow after me," says the Master, be my disciple, "let him deny himself." There must be readiness, now as of old, to suffer for righteousness' sake. I am glad to note there still is. Young men go out into the ministry, from their associations and their kin, into places the crudest and the rudest to preach the Gospel of Christ, enduring poverty, calumny, and finally are broken down in health, thrown upon the charity of a cold, unfeeling world. We know some women who were lured by fair appearance into marriage by young men who won their love, and who, though now abused, lampooned, mocked, are holding fast to their faith. We know of some who, in order to attend to their religious worship and duty, have sacrificed positions of better income, and we know of some who have forfeited money and social honor by giving up their connection with beneficiary and fraternal societies. But for these the Christian faith would perish from the earth. They are the salt of the earth, the light of the world.
Yet, apart from these, what is the religious life of Christians? Is it not simply a matter of convenience, custom, inheritance, yes, sometimes of fashion or of business? Do we not find numbers of Christians who cannot give for God's worship an hour out of the 168 hours a week, who would not lift a finger or a foot to help a sinking brother, to save a wandering boy, to speak a kind word to restrain a wayward girl, who, like Cain, his brother's murderer, insolently reply, "Am I my brother's keeper?" Yes, as we survey the average Christian life to-day, it seems to have lost all strenuousness. Tact, worldly wisdom, policy, not truth, God's wisdom, principles, more of profession than deeds, more of criticism than service. We see clergymen begging people if they won't be Christians, urging them to accept the glorious blessing of salvation, or, if professing Christians, humbly beseeching them to fulfill their vows, asking oft withfear and trembling for a little pittance to keep up the grand work, and when given, given as if an act of favor and grace, not from the conviction that they owe it to God and grace, whose it is, who demands it. Oh! it is pitiable, a mock and farce upon the religion we profess. When we think of the apostles and evangelists and martyrs for Jesus' sake, how they parted with homes, occupations, possessions, and even life itself for Christ and His Word, we have reason, every one of us, to hang our heads in shame. What the Church needs to-day are those who are not ashamed of Christ and His Word,i. e., men and women who will do their duty without ceasing; men and women who, when they have done their duty, will not be expecting the praise of men, but who find their reward in their service; men and women who are ready to sacrifice of their time, their labors, their money, themselves; men and women who, when principle, divine truth, is at stake, will stand by and rather go down, upholding what is right, than surrender to that which may be popular and fashionable, but is wrong.
My beloved, the religion of the twentieth century is no other than the religion of the first century. It calls for self-denial, sacrifice. To what extent has it entered, and does it enter, into your religious life? Examine yourself in the sight of Him who said: "Whosoever shall be ashamed of me and my words, of him shall the Son of Man be ashamed when He shall come in His own glory and in His Father's and of the holy angels." Amen.