TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock him, saying, This man began to build, and was not able to finish.—Luke 14, 28-30.
For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock him, saying, This man began to build, and was not able to finish.—Luke 14, 28-30.
In the pass of Thermopylae, in the country of Greece, there stands a monument, world-renowned, erected to Leonidas and his valiant three hundred. It bears the inscription: "Go, stranger, and tell at Sparta that we died here fighting to the last in obedience to our laws," and commemorates that thrilling event when Leonidas with his three hundred successfully held the pass of Thermopylae against tremendous odds until betrayed into the hands of the enemy. What it bears magnificent witness to is the quality of loyalty, steadfastness. The same noble quality does God require, look for, in His people. The Apostle in to-day'sEpistle, summing up the conduct of the spiritual soldier, says: "Stand, therefore, and having done all, stand," and again, emphasizing the same virtue, he remarks: "Watching thereunto with all perseverance." It is not the boldest regiment that always makes the best record, but that which holds out the longest. It is not the most enthusiastic Christian and ardent church-member that wins His Master's commendation, but he that proves "faithful." The parable of our text brings home to us the same lesson. It tells us of a man who contemplates the erection of a tower. Before entering upon his enterprise, he first sets down and, with pencil in hand, figures the cost, whether his funds will permit him to undertake the matter, lest, having begun and failing, he become the laughing-stock of his neighbors, and the uncompleted structure a monument to his folly. Equally so, does the Savior point out, is it, in another sphere, the realm of religion. A person hears the call of religion, feels its power and promptings, its necessity and claims; his heart is persuaded, his mind is made up, he ought to, and wants to be, a Christian, in the words of the parable, he contemplates the erection of the tower, but ordinary prudence bids that he should sit down and consider the costs, lest, beginning and not completing, the venture end in dismal failure, and he become the object of mockery and contempt. And yet is it not this ordinary, common-sense method, which they apply so keenly otherwise, that so many disregard in matters of soul? Why else would there be so many apostates, fallings away, in the ranks of confessed believers? Let us, then, wisely and for once sit down for a few moments in public Christian worship, and consider this matter, noting:The parable of the tower—an exhortation to Christian steadfastness.We shall group our remarks around two chief thoughts:I. What does it cost to be a Christian?II. Does it pay to be one?
To begin with, let it be noted that Christianity connects with cost; itdoescost to be a Christian. There is a type of religion which is not only a very easy, but a most inexpensive kind. Putting on the garment and speaking the language of godliness, it is stranger to its power. However, that type is not the building of a tower, rather of a shack, a flimsy construction which the slightest wind-storm and rising rivulet will soon sweep away. In building a substantial structure, the first concern is the foundation. You do not see that, it is hidden from view; yet upon that foundation rests the building, and it is just as strong as itsfoundation. So, spiritually, the main part of Christianity is hidden, it is something that takes place away from human view; yet upon that unseen experience rests its reality, its strength. What is that experience?
In laying a foundation, there is, first, the excavation, the removal of the soil, of all obstructions and obstacles. This is difficult work and costly work. So, spiritually, religion calls for the removal of obstacles, obstructions, soil. Man's heart is not fit to build the tower of Christ's religion, it must undergo a change; "old things must pass away." There must be a plowing up. There are painful memories to be recalled, sins to be mourned over, habits and ways of thinking and doing to be given up, likes and loves and feelings to be renounced. It is as true now as it ever was that "except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." We call this repentance, contrition, sorrow over one's sin. It means the reconstruction and transformation of one's nature, and costs many a pang, many a sigh, many an inner struggle and protest.
Then, when the rubbish and soil have been removed, the excavation has taken place; there must be a laying of the foundation. Which that foundation is, is plain. "Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ." Belief in Christ, faith in the Savior, must follow, else there can be no tower. My dear hearer, have you undergone that change of heart, experienced that inner sorrow? Have you paid the first cost?
Laying a foundation without building thereupon does not answer the purpose. We must add a superstructure, and this also costs. And what is the superstructure? St. Paul speaks of it when he writes: "I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service," when he says to the Corinthians: "Ye are bought with a price, therefore glorify God in your bodies and in your spirits, which are God's," or quite briefly remarks: "For me to live is Christ." We call this adding of the superstructure, consecration, and what does it involve? Everything. Beginning with yourself, it levies upon your body, your mind, your soul, your time, talents, influence, possessions, property, money, your all. It is just to this particular, of consecration, dedication of oneself and possessions, that Christ refers in the verses preceding the text: "If any mancome to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life, he cannot be my disciple."
Earthly love, domestic relations, material considerations—nothing is permitted to stand in the way of absolute and entire consecration of oneself, and all one has and possesses, to Christ. Beloved, is this not a particular which many who profess to be Christians do not apprehend? When they are called upon to give themselves, of their time and means and ability, to the cause of the Lord, they feel and act as though some great thing is being asked of them, that they are doing something superfluous. They need not feel so. It is a matter they ought to have weighed when they entered upon Christian life. God lays His hand upon all that you are, and all that you have, and says: "This is mine," and only he and she are building properly upon the foundation which is Christ who say: "Here, Lord, am I and all that is mine. Upon thy altar it lies in holy consecration. Lord, what wilt Thou have me do?"
And one other cost would we mention. It costs courage. Not exactly the same courage as when called upon, in the early centuries, to face the tortures of the rack, the beasts of the Coliseum and the flames of the martyr's stake, yet a courage, none the less noble, a moral courage. There are plenty of things to discourage us. "Is this vile world a friend to grace to help me on to God?" No, it is not. It is full of conflicts and criticisms and sharp collisions. If so many Christians of our day have such a good and easy time of it, is it not because they are not Christians after the style of the apostles and the early martyrs?
Satan is still the god of this world, and one need only take a decided stand against him, and the things that belong to him, to find it out. Yes, it costs something to be a Christian, a consecrated church-member. A Christian cannot be, cannot act and do, as non-Christians, non-church-members act and do. Aye, does it not frequently call for courage even to be known as a church-member? The finger of scorn is pointed and the sneer of sarcasm is hurled at many a one for that.
Nor only from those that are without; discouragement frequently comes from those who are within. Christians are the communion of saints, but their behavior toward each other is not always saintly. Human nature, everywhere ugly and crabbed, is apt to make itself manifest there too. Appreciation deserved,gratitude looked for, is not always received. And this is very trying, betimes; in fact, some think that it is beyond all endurance, judging by their withdrawal. But have those that so feel ever thought it over? Whoever builds a house without having some unpleasantness, and sometimes great unpleasantness? But does he, therefore, desist from completing the structure? Know, my dear hearer, whatever may be the nature of the annoyances, difficulties, and hindrances to Christian life and church-membership, they belong to the costs, and when they occur, face them with becoming courage and steadfastness. A sorry soldier that will throw away his gun and quit the ranks because of the discouragements in the way! This, then, is what it costs to be a Christian—repentance, consecration, courage.
And are the returns adequate to the cost? What benefit is there in being a Christian, erecting such a tower? Does it pay? There are people who think not. They consider that they make the most by keeping aloof. Whether they have done it by careful figuring out, like the man in the parable, is doubtful, but they are persuaded in their own mind that they are the gainers by not identifying themselves with Christ and His Church. They do not like religious restraints. They wish to be free to do as they please. They can enjoy more of the comforts and pleasures of life, can pursue their ways with less compunction, make more money, gain more friends, if they keep themselves out of the church entanglements and obligations. So they reason and congratulate themselves. But what advantage have they over us? The truth is that there is not a single relation or human interest in which it does not pay to be a Christian. To specify briefly: It pays to be a Christian physically; godliness teaches and inculcates all those laws and things that produce and promote health, the welfare of one's body. It pays to be a Christian materially, in one's labors and business. To be a good man, to have the reputation of honesty, is as fine a business capital as any one would want. It pays domestically; the home where godliness prevails approaches the ideal home and is the strongest bulwark of society. The same holds good with regard to the joys of life. "Religion was never devised to make our pleasures less." Religion sanctifies our pleasures; it draws the checkreins upon ungodly extravagances and excesses; and so it pays also in this respect. And when it comes to the dark side of life, the manifold difficulties and troubles that accompany man in his abodehere below, "when other helpers fail and comforts flee"—oh, for the power, the comfort, the divine support of religion! And we have said nothing yet of the strictly spiritual advantages. It pays to be a Christian; a Christian possesses a good conscience, which is more valuable than all of this world's possessions, the sunshine of God's forgiveness and favor through faith in his Savior; the blessed joy and inspiration that comes from prayer and worship of God. Nor does the matter stop there. When the scenes of this time and world fade upon our vision; when, passing through the dark and shadowy valley and before the judgment seat of Him to whom we must give account; when the glories of the Golden City open and the crown immortal is placed upon our brow,—then we shall realize that it pays to be a Christian.
To conclude,—there should be any right-thinking, calculating person that, having begun, will fail to complete the building of this tower? How foolish before God and men, how dangerous!
Be steadfast! be wise!—"Build on, my soul, till deathShall bring thee to thy God;He'll take thee at thy parting breathTo thy divine abode."Amen.
Be steadfast! be wise!—"Build on, my soul, till deathShall bring thee to thy God;He'll take thee at thy parting breathTo thy divine abode."
Amen.