Chapter 7

So far the parable illustrates God's mercy to man; what remains is a sad picture of man's too frequent unmercifulness to his brother, and the just punishment of his cruelty visited upon the delinquent. Here are five points worthy of our attention; which, duly considered, may serve to impress upon our minds the duty of fraternal forgiveness.

First, we have the two creditors, with their respective claims. The king represents God in his relation to man; the first servant represents man in his relation to mankind. God has his supreme claims, as creator and sovereign lord, upon the love, worship and obedience of the whole human race; while man has his subordinate claims, as an equal and a brother, upon the justice, the kindness, the sympathy and the charity of all other men—sometimes, as patron and official superior, upon the reverence, submission and loyal service of a particular part of them.

Then, we have the two debtors, with the different amounts of debt. Both are servants, holding a like relation to the king. Both are in arrears, the one to the king, the other to his fellow-servant. Ought not a common bond and a common condition to produce in them mutual kindness and sympathy? But how great the disparity of their debts! ten thousand talents, and a hundred pence—the latter less than a millionth part of the former—if the gold talent is intended, less than a hundred millionth. Surely if the king could forgive the greater, it were a small matter with his servant to forgive the less. In comparison of our sins against God, what are our brother's sins against us? "As the small dust of the balance, lighter than vanity itself."

Next, we have the two arrests, with the opposite methods of their making. Calmly and kindly, in his accustomed way, worthy of his royal dignity, and just as he treated others, the king calls his servant to account. This proceeding was to be expected, and involves neither harshness nor severity. But when the man is found so culpably in arrears with nothing to pay—a case which could not happen without great dishonesty and wickedness—the king orders, as he has legal right to do, the sale of the culprit, with his family and effects, to satisfy some small part of the royal claim against him. Now mark the very different conduct of the criminal. No sooner is he released than he goes out—not staying a moment to express his gratitude or admire the mercy shown him—finds the man who owes him fifteen dollars: and, with a violence unprovoked and inexcusable, lays hands on him, takes him by the throat, and exclaims, "Pay me that thou owest!" Could there be a more unlovely contrast to the conduct of the king? Such is the difference between God's dealing with guilty men and man's dealing with his delinquent brother; the former all mildness and forbearance, the latter all harshness and severity.

Again, we have the two pleas, with their contrary receptions by the creditors. The two pleas are identical; the two receptions, quite opposite. The first servant falls down before the king, saying, "Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all;" so falls down the second servant before the first, with the very same words upon his lips. Not forgiveness, but merciful indulgence, is what each debtor craves of his creditor; and full payment is what each promises. The payment of a hundreddenariiseems quite practicable, and not at all improbable; but the payment of ten thousand talents is beyond all power except that of royalty itself. Yet the wretched impossibility moves the royal heart to compassion; while the feasible and probable meets with stern and cruel refusal from the servile defaulter—all mercy on the one side, all implacability on the other. If, when overwhelmed with conscious guilt, you smote upon your breast and implored the divine mercy, your penitential tears moved the compassion of Heaven, how can you now harden your heart against the like plea of an offending brother? Even if he offer no plea, can you be utterly indifferent to his grief? Is this the spirit of Him who prayed for those who were nailing him to the cross? Perhaps your brother's heart is almost breaking, while he is too proud to apologize. A kind word, a look of love, might melt him into tears at your feet. Oh! give him that word, that look! It will restore to your arms a brother—to your heart a peace like that of heaven.

Finally, we have the two issues, with their consequences in impressive contrast. Great as his debt is, the king's debtor is released and forgiven; but the servant's debtor, owing so small a sum, is cast into prison till he shall pay the debt. But how shall he pay it in prison? Nay, it is not to secure payment that he is incarcerated, so much as to gratify the malignity of a wicked and revengeful heart. After so great a mercy shown to himself, the creditor cannot show the smallest mercy to his fellow-servant. And there the poor man must lie, in a private dungeon, amidst filth and darkness, his creditor his jailor, no comforts nor supplies but what are furnished him by friends without, no hope of deliverance till death comes to his release. Such is the contrast between God's dealing with man, and man's dealing with his brother. He compassionately forgives; we cruelly proceed to punish. Or if we pretend to forgive, how different is our forgiveness from his! God forgives gladly; we reluctantly. God forgives promptly; we after long delay. God forgives completely; we but partially and imperfectly. God forgives from the heart; we only with outward formalities. God forgives very tenderly; we with indifference or contempt. God forgives and forgets the crime; we cherish the bitter memory for many years. God forgives and takes the pardoned sinner to his heart; we thrust him away from our presence and our fellowship forever. God forgives so lovingly that he is said to delight in mercy and rejoice over the pardoned; we with such coldness, such hatred, such haughty disdain, that to meet the object of our clemency in heaven would spoil our joy!

That the cruel severity of the servile creditor should touch the hearts of his fellow-servants with sorrow is no matter of wonder. Stern and inexorable as were the laws of the age, no man without grief or anger could witness such inhumanity. In our day the case would have convoked an indignation meeting, if not a mob; with denunciatory resolutions, if not the prompt application of the code of Judge Lynch. The better method, however, is chosen; and the sad matter is prudently reported to the king. The king recalls the late object of his amazing clemency, in a dignified but very pointed speech remonstrates with him, and then delivers him to the tormentors till he shall pay the last farthing of the debt once forgiven. A righteous but terrible punishment! A state criminal, he goes to the public prison, the royal dungeons—perhaps, like the Mammertine and Tullian at Rome, three stories under ground. The debtor's prison, however, was ordinarily in the house of the creditor—often in his cellar; where the prisoner was kept in chains, subject to the creditor's will, to be tortured or slain as he chose. Slaves were there on purpose to torment him, and make his life as wretched as possible. They scourged him, beat him with rods, racked him with engines, pulled out his teeth, plucked out his nails, burned out his eyes, cut off his nose and ears, tore and mangled his flesh with hooks and pincers—to make him disclose his hidden treasures, to induce his friends to pay his debt for him, or simply to gratify a diabolical spirit of revenge. That all this has its counterpart in God's retribution upon the implacable, though almost too terrible for our faith, is the plain teaching of the parable. Men and angels rise up in remonstrance with Heaven against the unforgiving. And when the divine Heart-searcher calls him to judgment, what answer can he make to the dread animadversions of the angry king? Dare he now pray, as he often did on earth, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors!" Will he lift up his voice and sing, as he used to do in the church,

"That mercy I to others show,That mercy show to me!"

It was a mockery then; he will not repeat it now. Speechless as the unrobed intruder at the marriage feast, he stands trembling before his Judge. Angels of justice, take him away! Let us not see his anguish, nor hear his lamentation! Showing no mercy, he has lost all claim upon mercy. Conscience his eternal tormentor, any spot in the universe may be his dungeon of despair. Ask him now the question he has often asked with a sneer—"Is there a hell, and where is it?" He lays his hand upon his heart and answers—"There is, and it is here!" Angels of justice, take him away!

"So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses."

[1] Preached in St. John's, Buffalo, N.Y., 1869.

[2] Twenty-second Sunday after Trinity.

XVII.

CHRIST WITH HIS MINISTERS.[1]

Lo! I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.—Matt.xxviii. 20.

The agony of redemption is accomplished. The lately crucified and buried is alive forevermore. Forty days he has walked the earth in his resurrection body, instructing and comforting his disciples. The time is come for his return to the Father. He must enter into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us. If he go not away, the Comforter will not come—the baptism of fire and power will not descend upon the Church. But before his departure, he renews the commission of his apostles: "All power is given unto me, in heaven and in earth; go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost; teaching them to observe all things, whatsoever I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world."

Ye publicans and fishermen, what an embassy! How vast the field! How grand the work! How glorious the promise! Heaven never gave a sublimer commission; man never went forth under a mightier sanction, or on a nobler errand. To utter the words which were syllabled in thunder from out the flames of Sinai, to publish the love that was written in blood upon the cleft rocks of Calvary, to administer the sacramental mysteries of the new and everlasting covenant, to negotiate a perpetual amnesty with this revolted and ruined province of Jehovah's empire, to convert perishing souls from sin to righteousness and build them up in the blessed faith that saves,—this is to do what for ages has occupied the purest spirits and loftiest intellects of our race, and enlisted the interest and the energies of seraphim and cherubim, and furnished constant employment for all the agencies of the infinite goodness and wisdom and power. How poor in the comparison are all earthly diplomacies and royal ministries! Thrones, triumphs, the homage of the living world, and the praise of a thousand generations to come,—what were these to the office and dignity of Heaven's ambassador! How should the Christian minister tremble beneath the burden that weighs down the angel's wing, or rejoice to bear the tidings sung by celestial voices over the hills of Bethlehem! And who were sufficient for these things, but for the Master's promise appended to the command—"Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world!"

"Lord, it is enough. With such assurance, we will go. With such assistance, we will preach. With such encouragement, we will baptize. With so mighty a patronage, we will summon the nations to thy feet. If thou be with us, we shall fear nothing, we can do all things. If thou aid and defend us, no enemy is invincible, no achievement is impracticable. In court or camp, in palace or prison, in temple or forum, in city or desert, to Jews or Gentiles, princes or peasants, scholars or rustics, sages or savages, we will gladly set forth thy claims and offer thy salvation." So might the apostles have answered their ascending Lord; and so, in effect, they did answer him. They went forth everywhere, and preached the kingdom of the Crucified. Mighty in spirit, they conferred not with flesh and blood. Strong in faith and hope, they consulted neither present appearances nor future probabilities. Constrained by the love of Christ, they hastened, with his message of grace, from city to city, from province to province, from nation to nation. Nothing retards them; nothing intimidates them. The word of the Lord is as fire shut up in their bones, and they are weary with forbearing. They must speak, or they will die; and though they die, they will speak. They cry aloud, and spare not. In the dungeons they lift up their voices, and in the tempests of the sea they are not silent. Before awful councils and sceptred rulers they bear witness to the precious truth. Under the crimson scourge and on the cruel rack they steadfastly maintain their testimony. Death only can effectually interdict their prophesying: and even in the agonies of death, ere yet the organs of speech are paralyzed, they offer Christ's salvation to their murderers, tenderly beseech those who are mocking their tortures, and bless with loving words the lips that are cursing them out of the world. And with what effect, let the early triumphs of the gospel testify; idols abolished; temples abandoned; cities converted; churches planted everywhere; whole provinces embracing the faith of Jesus; monarchs upon their thrones trembling before manacled preachers; Christianity spreading, even during the lifetime of the apostles, as far northward as Scythia, southward as Ethiopia, eastward as Parthia and India, westward as Gaul, Spain, and the British Isles; and a little later, assuming the imperial purple, and lifting the Labarum, glorified with the cross, as the signal of salvation to the nations; and all this, because Christ hath said, and so far hath fulfilled the saying,—"Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world."

But the promise is ours. It extends through all time. It can never be obsolete, while Christ hath an ordained servant upon earth. Who talks of change? Who says the apostolic office, with its high prerogatives and awful responsibilities, was intended only for a season, and has long since passed away? Who sneers and scoffs at the claim of the Holy Catholic Church to this sublime descent on the part of her chief pastors, and the consequent connection of the whole body of her clergy, through a regular series of ordinations, with the blessed men first commissioned by our divine Lord to go forth and disciple all nations? And hath the Master abandoned those who are obeying the mandate and perpetuating the sacred succession? Hath the Word forever settled in heaven come utterly to naught, and the Rock dissolved on which the Church was founded, and the gates of hell prevailed against her? True, the direct inspiration is withdrawn, and the miraculous endowments are no more; but these are not essential to the apostolate, and were not intended to be permanent; being only the needful authentication of a new revelation from heaven, and therefore discontinued as soon as the Christian faith was once well established among men. The work of the ministry, however, is the same, and its divine sanctions are the same, and its three orders are the perpetual ordinance of Jesus Christ. Ay, and its conflicts are the same, and its succors and consolations in all its sorrows and sufferings are the same, and the faithful servant is still as much as ever the object of his Master's loving care. Whoever else may abandon him, the glorified Man of sorrows saith, "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." Wherever he goes, Christ attends him. Wherever he labors, Christ sustains him. Wherever he preaches the gospel or administers the sacraments, he has the express authority and assured blessing of their heavenly Author. As the Lord stood by St. Paul, and strengthened him, when all men forsook him; so will he stand by his ministers in every time of trial, and strengthen them for every duty and every danger. Trusting in his might, they will never be left to their own weakness. Depending upon his counsel, they will never be abandoned to their own poor expedients. Weary and faint, his arm will support them. Doubtful and perplexed, his wisdom will direct them. Destitute and afflicted, his bounty will relieve them. Persecuted and calumniated, his providence will vindicate them. Faithful to their sacred functions, all their teachings will be clothed with a divine power, and every priestly act will be hallowed with a heavenly unction. O my brethren! beside all your baptismal fonts to-day, at all your altars, and in all your pulpits, stands he of the wounded hands, the mangled feet, the thorn-pierced brow, and the ever-open side, saying,—"Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world!"

And do we not need such assurance? What is the end and aim of the gospel ministry? To undo the work of the Devil; to turn men from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God; to reconcile them to the law of holiness, and bring their rebellious thoughts into captivity to the obedience of Christ; to draw them against the stream of their carnal inclinations and worldly ambitions and interests; to make them love what they naturally hate, and hate what they naturally love; to graft the degenerate plant of a strange vine into a new and heavenly stock, that, nourished by its life, it may bring forth the wholesome fruits of righteousness; to assure the penitent of the divine pardon, and feed the faithful with the bread that cometh down from heaven; to perfect the saints in that precious knowledge, and edify the Church in that holy faith, which are the sources of all spiritual excellence and the earnests of eternal life; in short, to subvert the seat of the great usurper, and build upon its wreck the imperishable throne of the Prince of peace, and give back into the hand of him whose right it is the sceptre of a ruined world restored. Are these achievements to be wrought without the Master's presence? Are these victories to be won without the Captain of our salvation? What saith the holy apostle? "Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think any thing, as of ourselves; but our sufficiency is of God, who also hath made us able ministers of the New Testament, even of the Spirit that giveth life." Christ with us is at once the guaranty and the glory of our success. If the word proves powerful to save the hearer, it is because Christ is with the preacher. If the water conveys regenerating grace to the infant, it is because Christ is with the baptizer. If the consecrated bread and wine impart spiritual comfort and nourishment to the faithful, it is because Christ is with the celebrant. If the appointed absolution and benediction give peaceful assurance of pardon and heavenly succor to the penitent believer, it is because Christ is with the officiating priest. If Christ were not with him, all his learning, his logic and eloquence, were but a sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. If Christ were not with him, all his sublime sacerdotal functions, though instituted and ordained by Christ himself, were as powerless upon the spirits of men as the moonbeams upon the frozen sea. If Christ were not with him, the blind eye would not be opened, the dead conscience would not be quickened, the rebel against God would not be subdued, the lost wanderer from the fold would not be restored, the moral leper would still remain festering in his fatal impurity. Oh! who could undertake the work of the ministry, with the least hope of winning souls, awakening sinners, edifying the body of Christ, or accomplishing effectually any of the objects of his divine commission, without the infallible promise—"Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world!"

Moreover, it is important, in the work of human salvation, that the excellency of the power should be of God, and not of us, that no flesh may glory in his presence. When Joab had captured the city of Rabbah, he sent for King David to come and claim the honor of the achievement. When Garibaldi had conquered the Two Sicilies, he sent for Victor Emmanuel to come and take possession of the united kingdom. And Christ must have the credit of his servants' success in the good fight of faith. The warfare is ours; the crown belongs to him who giveth us the victory. "Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give the praise, for thy loving mercy and for thy truth's sake." But if we could accomplish aught without his aid, the honor would be ours, and not the Master's; and there would be no justice nor reason in the command, "He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord." Therefore the Divine Wisdom hath ordered that all our success shall depend upon the divine blessing; and to this end, Christ is ever present with those whom he hath commissioned, helping them mightily with his Holy Spirit. All the power of the gospel to convert the soul, all the power of the sacraments to purify the heart, all the efficiency of Christ's ambassadors in establishing and fortifying the Church, is attributable to this unction of the Holy One. Was it not the angel in the waters of Bethesda, that gave them their healing virtue? Was it not Jehovah in the waters of the Jordan, that cured the leprosy of Naaman the Syrian? And what is it but the gracious presence of Christ in the preached word and the administered ordinance, that renders them effectual to the salvation of those who believe? Is it not as true to-day, as it was when he said it, nearly nineteen centuries ago, "Without me ye can do nothing"? Without Christ, what were our knowledge but ignorance, our wisdom but folly, our eloquence but noise? what our profession but an imposture, our ritual but a solemn farce, and all our zeal but painted fire? It is God that "always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest by us the savor of his knowledge in every place." He who girds us with the sword must nerve the arm that wields it. Now and forever, "We see the Lamb in his own light," and shine only by the reflection of his glory. The ministry, in its three orders, with all their spiritual endowments, is the gift of Christ to the Church; and through these his chosen representatives, though he is ascended on high, he still hath his tabernacle with men, and dwelleth manifestly among them; and millions of saints, throughout the earth and throughout the ages, united in one body, inspired by one Spirit, saved through one calling, sealed with one baptism, professing one faith, cherishing one hope, obeying one Lord, and adoring one God and Father of all, are built up in him, a spiritual house, a temple of living stones, whose foundations are deeper than the earth, and whose towers are lost in the empyrean. This great truth, so humiliating to the pride of man, and so glorifying to the grace of God—this great truth, that all depends upon Christ, let us keep constantly in view; listening for the Master's feet behind his messengers, and looking for the Master's blessing in all their ministrations; ever inviting his presence, and never forgetting his promise—"Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world."

And to you, my dear brother, who are now to be set apart to the functions of the Christian priesthood, the Redeemer's assurance hath a special significance. Here we are, seeking the lost sheep in the wilderness, rescuing the shipwrecked from the devouring waves, plucking with fear the perishing out of the fire. To this blessed end we have devoted all our studies and directed all our labors. This is the glorious aim to which we have consecrated the flower of youth and the ripe fruit of manhood. How consoling and encouraging the Master's promise of his constant presence! Here is the answer to every anxious question. Here is the solution of every painful doubt. Christ is with us; therefore our priesthood involves the gift of a heavenly power. Christ is with us; therefore our gospel is vital truth, instinct with a quickening spirit. Christ is with us; therefore our sacraments are not mere naked signs, but divine mysteries, infolding the grace of life. Christ is with us; therefore the Holy Catholic Church is not a ghastly corpse, but a living body, composed of living members, united to a living Head. Christ is with us; therefore let us not weary in our blessed work, nor faint under the burden and heat of the day; but look cheerfully forward to the result, and lighten the toil of tillage with the hope of harvest. Trials are inevitable. The work of the ministry is no holiday amusement. He that follows Christ must know the fellowship of his suffering. He that preaches the glad tidings must be partaker of the afflictions of the gospel. He that cultivates Immanuel's land must expect often to plough the rock and gather his sheaves from the naked granite. You have embarked in a voyage which is to be contested with pirates as well as tornadoes; and if you would save the treasure, you must be ready to scuttle the ship, though you go down with it. You have set out in a campaign which requires that you should burn the bridges behind you, and brave the iron storm of battle, and march through the bristling forest of bayonets, and wrestle unto the death with the powers and principalities of other worlds. But gird up your loins like a man, in the strength of the Lord of hosts. Stand firmly for the truth as it is in Jesus. Contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints. Hold no parley with expediency. Be independent as a prophet, and intrepid as an angel, though gentle as Jesus Christ. Let all men see that you fear nothing but God, hate nothing but sin, and seek nothing but souls. Call things honestly by their right names, and never show yourself ashamed of the Church and her teaching. Let every sermon be an echo of the ancient catholic symbols, a melodious voice in the mighty anthem that comes ringing down the ages. Be faithful to your flock in parochial visitation, with godly counsel and timely prayer. Let the sound of your footsteps on the stairs be music to the widow and orphans in the garret, the light of your countenance sunshine in the dismal basement, and your presence a benediction at the bed of death. Take heed to yourself, and suffer not your spirit to be chafed and soured by adverse criticism or unfriendly speech. Allow nothing to hinder the regularity of your private devotions, or rob you of your daily communion with Christ. Come always from your closet to the chancel and the pulpit, filled with your Master's charity, and fired with your Master's zeal. Then shall you come to your people "in the fulness of the blessing of the gospel of peace," verifying by every message and every ministration the Master's precious words—"Lo! I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world."

O my brethren! what a glorious investiture is the gospel ministry! Whereunto shall I liken it, or with what comparison shall it be compared? Is there a glory in science? Ours is the knowledge of the unknown God. Is there a glory in letters? Ours is the living lore of the immortals. Is there a glory in poetry? Ours is the burden of the angelic antiphons. Is there a glory in eloquence? Ours is the sweet persuasiveness of a heavenly inspiration. Is there a glory in heroism? We bear the banners of the Lord in the good fight of faith. Is there a glory in royalty? We share the sceptre and the diadem with the Prince of the kings of the earth. Is there a glory in philanthropy? We preach the incarnate love of heaven, born in a cave, cradled in a manger, baptized with blood in Olivet, and enthroned over a ransomed universe upon the cross. Is there a glory in the æsthetic arts? But where are the forms and colors to rival those with which we are adorning the new Jerusalem? and what are the finest bronzes and marbles to the living statuary with which we are peopling her palaces? and who shall ever speak of purple robes and jewelled crowns, that has once beheld the immortal beauty of the humblest saint in heaven? "The glory of the terrestrial is one, and the glory of the celestial is another;" and the Platos and Homers, the Tullys and Virgils, the Shakspeares and Goethes, the Bacons and Humboldts, the Raphaels and Angelos, the Cæsars and Napoleons, the Washingtons and Wellingtons, with whose fame the earth is ringing, drawn into comparison with the men of the pulpit and the altar, have no glory by reason of the glory which excelleth; and I would rather be a priest of Christ, with the apostolic seal and signature to my commission, than wear all the laurels ever won by genius, and enjoy all the triumphs that ever rewarded valor, and sit secure in peerless enthronement over a vassal world! Faithful unto death, nobler functions await us, and loftier ministrations in a temple not made with hands. Who shall tell the privileges of a celestial priesthood? Who shall sing the raptures of an eternal eucharist? Already we enjoy the earnest. We have learned something of the ritual, and are practising the prelude of the anthem. We stand at the gate, and catch bright glimpses of the inner glory, and hear the ravishing minstrelsy of the host, and inhale the perfume from the golden altar. Soon the portal shall open, and we shall be summoned to enter; and the white-vested elders shall advance to meet us, with greetings of gladdest welcome; and visions of beauty, such as mortal eyes were never blessed withal, shall smite the sense with sweet bewilderment; and voices of wondrous melody, with the accompaniment of many harps, shall be heard chanting through the corridors—"Come in, ye blessed of the Lord! come in!" and of all our blissful fellowships in the everlasting home of the faithful, our happy intercourse with the best and purest that ever lived and died, and our long-desired re-union, realized at length, with those we have loved and lost, this shall be the crown—to be with Him in his glory world without end, who made good his promise to be with us in our ministry "unto the end of the world!"

[1] Preached at the ordination to the priesthood of the Rev. Robert A. Holland, in St. George's Church, St. Louis, 1872.

XVIII.

KEPT FROM EVIL.[1]

I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil.—Johnxvii. 15.

So pleaded the departing Shepherd for the little flock he was leaving. Though the petition primarily respected the apostles and first believers, there is no impropriety in extending its application to their successors down to the end of time. We, too, are in the world and exposed to evil; we, too, are incapable of self-protection, and dependent upon the merciful guardianship of Heaven; and Christ invokes the Father's love for our preservation as for theirs: "I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil."

How often does it happen that the Christian pilgrim, weary of the way and worn out with sorrow, or longing for a higher sphere and a holier companionship, exclaims with Job, "I loathe it, I would not live alway;" or cries out with David, "O that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away and be at rest;" or responds in the depths of his heart to the sentiment of St. Paul, "We that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened: not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life." And who shall blame this longing for rest, this sighing for home, this desire of a better country? Who would not quit the scene of toil and strife and danger for the regions of eternal blessedness and peace? Who that has any perception of spiritual good, any appreciation of moral excellence, any sympathy with the pure and the true, does not prefer heaven to earth? The desire, however, should be tempered with submission, and the Christian should await with patience his heavenly Father's will. God has much for his saints to do here below. They are lights in the darkness, living springs in the desert, Bethesda fountains for the perishing. They are the Noahs, the Josephs, the Daniels of the world: yea the Abrahams, in whom all the families of the earth are to be blessed. They are witnesses of Christ, proofs of his redeeming love, specimens of his renewing power, and pledges of his final victory. They must remain a while to win sinners from the error of their way and save souls from death. They must remain a while to adorn and strengthen the Church, to comfort their fellow-Christians, and relieve surrounding misery. They must remain a while to glorify the Author and Finisher of their faith, to weaken the kingdom of Satan, thwart his malicious design, mortify his pride, and hasten his fall. They must remain a while to exercise and improve their own virtues and graces by works of piety and charity, that so they may perfect their moral likeness to their Lord, and secure for themselves a loftier station and a brighter portion among the saints in light. The world itself, indeed, exists for their sake, and through their influence with God on its behalf: and if all the saints had been taken away with their ascending Saviour, "we should have been as Sodom, and like unto Gomorrah." All which if we duly consider, we cannot fail to perceive the wisdom and goodness of the Master's request for his disciples, "I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil."

Now, what is "the evil" from which Christ would have his people kept?—Sorrow? No: "blessed are they that mourn." Poverty? No: "blessed are ye poor." Persecution? No: "blessed are the persecuted." Temptation? No: "blessed is the man that endureth temptation." All these and all other "afflictions of the righteous" are turned into benefits and beatitudes by the wondrous alchemy of redeeming love. Over-ruled by divine providence and sanctified by divine Grace, they are the occasions and instruments of a salutary discipline, working together for good to those who love God, calling into exercise the holiest feelings and highest faculties of the regenerate soul, and perfecting the believer for his "far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." None of these, therefore, is the evil from which Christ would have his disciples kept. What is it then? for he manifestly has some specific evil in view. It is sin, the great moral evil; or Satan, the dread personal evil; or both, for sin and Satan are inseparable. These only can rob you of your peace, comfort, confidence, purity, spiritual strength, communion with God, and joyful hope of immortality; and from these effectually preserved, no earthly affliction or misfortune, no malice or might of wicked men, can work you any possible harm, or dim by a single ray one star of your celestial diadem. From these, therefore,—from the power of sin and the delusions of Satan—Christ would have his followers kept; and from these to guard them, he prayed so fervently to his Father in heaven. Two of the chief forms of the evil he deprecates in their behalf are heresy and schism, with the uncharitableness which they always engender, and in which they often originate. He prays that they may be one in him, as he is one with the Father—united by one faith, cemented by one love, incorporated in one body—that thus all mankind may be effectually convinced of the truth and excellence of his gospel. And oh! how important must that be, for which the Redeemer prays! There is nothing else important in the comparison. It is not important that we should be rich: the poor are to possess the kingdom. It is not important that we should be mighty: God hath chosen the feeble for his agents. It is not important that we should be distinguished: he hath promised to crown the lowly with everlasting honors. It is not important that we should be comfortable: "weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." But oh! it is important, beyond the power of tongue to tell or heart to conceive, that we should be preserved pure and holy amidst surrounding depravity and pollution, that we should ever maintain "the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace." Let us, then, join our petition to that of the great Redeemer, and watch against the deceitfulness of sin, and guard against the wiles and works of Satan, and co-operate with the grace of God to effect our own salvation, and never forget that preservation from evil is better than translation to paradise! He who hath redeemed us would not have us again captured. He who hath purified us would not have us again polluted. He who hath restored our title to the kingdom would not have us again disinherited. He who hath wrought in us an incipient preparation for his glory would not have us again disqualified for our destiny. He who hath given his life for our ransom, his flesh and blood for our nourishment, and all his eternal fulness for the endowment of our immortality, can never be indifferent to the spiritual wants and welfare of those who have been baptized into his death; and the request which he breathed so sweetly for his disciples while he was yet with them on earth, he has been repeating for all his people ever since he returned to heaven, "I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil."

Trusting in him who thus pleads for his disciples, and seconding his gracious intercession with our own supplications, what have we to fear? Shall Jesus pray in vain for his redeemed? Shall he fail those who have committed their all to his advocacy? Will not the Father hear the petitions offered in the name of the Son with whom he is ever well pleased? Coming boldly through his merit and mediation to the throne of grace, shall we not certainly obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need? Will God leave to the lion and the wolf the sheep for whom the divine Shepherd cares so lovingly and pleads so earnestly? "Fear not, little flock! it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." And "if God be for us, who can be against us?" What evil agency or influence shall harm those who "dwell in the secret place of the Most High and abide under the shadow of the Almighty?" Are not the redeemed of his dear Son his jewels, hissegulla, his peculiar treasure? Will he not hide them in the hollow of his hand, and guard them as the apple of his eye? "Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth; who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died; yea, rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long, we are counted as sheep for the slaughter. Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord." Such is St. Paul's confidence, and such should be ours. But such confidence requires our hearty co-operation with Him who is always praying for our preservation from evil. We must steadfastly resist all temptations to sin. We must stand firmly and fight bravely against the world, the flesh, and the Devil. We must avail ourselves constantly of all the helps which the Church offers us in her services and her sacraments. God's grace is for those who ask it earnestly and use it faithfully. It is not in the power of Omnipotence to save from sin and Satan those who endeavor not to save themselves. You must be workers together with God, my dear brethren; and then all his attributes and resources are pledged to your success, and neither earth nor hell can do you any harm. Suffer, then, the word of exhortation, and forget not that the kingdom is taken by force and held by continual struggle. Especially important are these counsels and cautions to you who have just ratified your covenant with God in confirmation. Your rector assures me he never knew a more pleasant task than that which he enjoyed in preparing you for the hands of the bishop. As you sat before him in the lecture-room, he felt it a sweet privilege to talk to you so freely of Christian duty and responsibility. And when a new name was added to the list of candidates, he said in his heart—"Here is another gem for my Master's crown, another guest for his table, another chorister for his choir!" and he passed the new-comer over into the hands which were spiked for him to the cross, and his faith heard the angels rejoicing over one more sinner that repented. And many a time, no doubt, returning from the lecture to the privacy of his chamber, he knelt and commended you all, with tears of love and joy, to him who gathereth the lambs with his arms and carrieth them in his bosom. And often, during that sweet Lenten season, I know, he wrestled for you with the angel of the covenant through the livelong night, and ceased not till the blessing came upon the wings of the morning. Shall all his labor be lost upon you? Shall the fruit be blasted in the bud? Shall Satan and his servants triumph over the grace of God? Shall souls over which seraphs have sung hallelujahs excite the mirth and mockery of fiends by their fall? "Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation." Observe daily your closet devotions. Never deny your Saviour by forsaking the holy eucharist. Cleave to your Church whatever may be her fortunes. Let no uncharitableness in the family drive you from your Mother's bosom. Let no wound that bleeds in your own breast imbitter you against any of her children. Oh! how painful it is, to see people who are angry at others wreaking their revenge upon themselves! out of malice to their brethren murdering their own immortal souls! spurning the bread of life and the wine of the kingdom because they have a quarrel with the hand that offers them! refusing to take another step toward heaven, and plunging incontinently back toward the gulf of hell, because they have conceived a dislike to some person who was travelling in their company! "If angels weep, it is at such a sight!" Oh! do ye not so, beloved! Hold fast whereunto ye have attained. Let no man take your crown. Most heartily "I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to save your souls, and to give you inheritance with them that are sanctified through faith in Christ Jesus." And in all my petitions for you at "the throne of the heavenly Grace," I repeat the loving words of "the chief Shepherd" for his little flock—"I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil."

[1] Preached, immediately after a confirmation, at a parochial mission, Illinois, 1873.

XIX.

CONTENDING FOR THE FAITH.[1]

Beloved, when I gave all diligence to write unto you of the common salvation, it was needful for me to write unto you, and exhort you that ye should earnestly contend for the faith once delivered to the saints.—Jude3.

And if such exhortation were needful then, when prophecy and miracles and the gift of tongues were still in the Church, authenticating the mission of the apostles, confirming the doctrines which they taught, and commending the common salvation to all who heard them; much more now, when all these signs and wonders have long since disappeared, and those holy men of God have been for eighteen centuries enjoying their repose in Paradise—now, when the predicted perilous times of the last days are come, and heresies and schisms everywhere abound, and human reason is exalted above divine revelation, and religion is denuded of all that is supernatural, and Omnipotence is subjected to the laws of science, and answers to prayer are pronounced impossible, and Christ is robbed of his essential glory, and man is become his own redeemer, and every article of the ancient creeds is called in question, and the authority of the Church in matters of faith is scoffed at as an exploded absurdity, and the old dogmatic formulas of Christian theology are consigned to oblivion and the bats, and every one's private judgment is worth more to him than the decisions of all the œcumenical councils, and there are not wanting those in every community who deem it wiser to make a religion for themselves than to accept that which has been given to them from heaven. Surely, now, if ever, might some faithful and uncompromising servant of Jesus Christ, inditing an epistle to his Christian brethren, assert the necessity of exhorting them to contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints.

What, then, is this faith? and why and how must we contend for it? These questions allow me to answer.

As you all probably know, the word faith is used in different senses. Suffice it at present to say, there is a subjective faith, and there is an objective faith. The former is the act and habit of believing, which characterizes the Christian life; the latter is the divine truth believed, comprehending the whole body of Christian doctrine. When it is said we are justified by faith, we are saved by faith, we walk by faith, we live by faith, it is manifestly the habitual act of Christian believing that is intended—of relying upon Christ and trusting in him, as our wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption; when St. Paul speaks of holding the mystery of the faith, exhorts the Corinthians to stand fast in the faith, encourages Timothy to fight the good fight of faith, testifies of himself that he has kept the faith, it is evidently the system of Christian truth that he refers to—the doctrine that Christ came to reveal, sent his servants to proclaim, and established his Church on earth to maintain. This objective faith, being at once for all time and for all people authoritatively delivered to the saints—in the primitive creeds by apostolic tradition, in the Christian Scriptures by inspiration of God—admits of no alteration or addition, and needs none to adapt it to the ever-changing circumstances of men. What it was eighteen hundred years ago it is to-day; and what it is to-day it will be eighteen hundred years to come. Mutation is the law of all things earthly; but heavenly truth is immutable and eternal. Science is progressive, developing gradually by the slow process of induction; but the faith was delivered all at once, during the lifetime of our Lord on earth and the ministry of his inspired apostles, and can never be made more perfect than it was in the beginning. There are no new revelations in religion, no new discoveries of Christian truth. We must take the gospel as it comes to us, without attempting to improve or presuming to mutilate the system. The Church, in her militant probation, may pass through many successive phases; but the faith, like its divine Author, is "the same yesterday and to-day and forever." And for this Christians are called to contend—not for progress, not for science, not for freedom, not for glory, not for life itself; but for what is more precious than any or all of these—"the faith once delivered to the saints."


Back to IndexNext