(Sixth Sunday after Trinity.)
ROMANS vi. 11.
"Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord."
Every baptised person belongs to God. He is His absolute property, marked with the sign of the great King. As the broad arrow is the mark that certain property belongs to the British Government, so the Cross of Holy Baptism is the sign and pledge that we are God's. Think of that, my brothers, you are not free to choose your own way, your own masters; you belong absolutely to Jesus Christ. He made you His property by taking your flesh, by suffering in it, by dying in it, by rising with it in triumph. In Baptism you are made partakers of all these benefits. You are baptised into the Death of Christ that your old sinful nature may die and be buried. You are baptised too in His Resurrection, that you may after Baptism begin a new and higher life, with Jesus as your Ruler and Guide. From this fact come two others; first that we are not free to sin, because if we do wrong, we sin not against ourselves, but against Jesus Christ, "whose we are, and whom we serve." I do not say that sin will not come in our way, will not tempt us. We must, in passing through the world, encounter foul smells, hideous sights, dirty roads. But we can turn away from the foul smell, we can shut our eyes to the bad sight, we can pick our way carefully over the dirty road. So if sin meets us, we must turn aside from it, we must stop our eyes and our ears to the evil sight, or sound, we must try to keep in a clean path. The strength which our Master, Jesus, gives us in the Sacraments will be sufficient for us. And the second fact is that, as baptised people, we are never alone, never forsaken. A great part of our life, and our work, must be solitary, and yet we are not alone, for God is with us. We mustdo our work alone. No one can tread the path of duty for us, or fight the good fight on our behalf. Like the solitary sower in the fields, we are all sent into this world to sow some seed, to do some work,alone. There may be crowds around us, and yet each of us has his thoughts, and hopes, and feelings, with which others cannot intermingle; no two men think or feel exactly in the same way, each of us is alone. We know that we must fight the battle of life and duty alone, we know that we bear our sorrows and bereavements alone, we know that alone we must die, and be judged, and yet, as Christians, we know that Jesus will never leave us, nor forsake us, that He is with us even unto the end of the world, and that when most solitary we arealone with God.
It is this thought that has strengthened the bravest and best of God's people in their hour of trial. It was this which enabled Abraham to leave home and friends, and to seek a land of strangers; he was not alone, for God was with him. It was this which comforted Joseph in the Egyptian prison, and enabled him to feel as many another captive has felt—
"Stone walls do not a prison make,Nor iron bars a cage;Minds innocent and quiet takeThat for a hermitage."
It was this which nerved Daniel to dare the den of lions, and Shadrach and his brethren to brave the fiery furnace; they were not alone, for God was with them. This cheered David when he walked through the valley of the shadow in his deep repentance; this gave courage to S. Peter, and S. Paul, and all the noble army of martyrs, to speak boldly in Christ's Name, and to meet death with a smiling face. This carried Moses through the desert, and Columbus to the new world, the thought that in their loneliest hour God was with them.
Yes, and it was the same thought which supported the dead hero, for whom all England weeps. Day after day passed over Gordon in his lonely exile far away. Day after day he saw the sunrise flash on the white walls and fair palm trees of Khartoum, and the sunset redden the desert sand. Cut off from home, and comrades, and countrymen, far from the sound of English voices, and of English prayers; there is no more lonely figure than that of the martyr of duty. Day by day he strained his eyes to see the rescue which never came, and yet in all this lonely waiting we cannot believe that the heart of Gordon failed, for he could say to his God, "I am not alone, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me."
Thus, in one sense, every man must stand alone, and yet the Christian man knows that he is a child of God, and that his Father will never forsake him. Every one of us mustlabour alonein the great workshop of the world. Each of us has his corner where God has placed him to weave in his little bit of the pattern of this world's history, to add his little portion of colour to the picture called Life. For each of us there is the day's work, wherein we can labour, or idle, as we choose, and for each there comes the night when no man can work. And what we have to do we must doalone. The majority of men who live the life of duty do so unnoticed and uncared for. They are like those stars which our eyes never see, but they shine all the same. Such men work and suffer, and wait till their time comes to join
"The crowd untold of men,By the cause they served unknown,Who moulder in myriad graves of old,Never a story, never a stone."
But such men have the comfort of knowing that they have not run in vain, neither laboured in vain; they have lived unto God in this world, and if solitary, they have been alone with God. Again,we must all suffer alone. However kind and sympathetic our friends may be, they cannot enter into our pains and agonies. They can be sorry for us, but they cannot feel as we feel. When the body is racked by severe pangs of suffering, even the presence of friends is too much for us. We want to be alone,alone with God. And this is specially true of the sorrows of the mind. "The heart knoweth its own bitterness." No one, not even our nearest and dearest, can go with us to the Gethsemane, where we suffer, or the Calvary, where we endure our cross. But it is in these hours of bitterest suffering that the Christian feels that he is not forsaken. He remembers that his Master, Jesus, trod the winepress of sorrow alone, and that of the people there was none with Him. He knows that he is permitted to walk the same lonely path as Jesus trod before him. He knows that as he kneels in the darkened room with his solitary sorrow, with his breaking heart, with his sinful soul bowed down in penitence, that Jesus is with him—he is alone with God. And again,we must all die alone. The moment of death is the most solitary of all our life. The Prince, with his armies, and crowds of friends and courtiers, is, at his death, as much alone as the beggar who drops and dies by the roadside. Loving hands may clasp ours fondly, but we must let them go. Husband, mother, wife, or child may cling to us in close embrace, but they cannot detain us, or go with us, we must die alone. And yet in that most solitary moment the Christian who is dead unto sin, and living unto God, knows that he is not alone. He knows that when he has heard the sound of the last voice on earth, he shall hearken to other voices, never listened to before. When the last farewell is spoken, and the last hand clasped on earth, there will come the meeting with a new and glorious company, and the touch of those dear Hands once wounded for our transgressions. Be sure that God, who is with us in life, is specially with us in the moment of death; we die alone, but we are alone with God. My brothers, we are tempted sometimes to murmur because our life and its work are dull, monotonous and solitary. Let this thought help us to check the rebellious sigh, the thought that if we are trying to do our duty, God is with us, and He that seeth in secret, shall Himself reward us openly. We may be tempted to cry sometimes in our darkest hours, "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me;" but the loving Hand has not gone from us, though we cannot feel its touch. Those dark hours often bring out the light of Christ's great love most clearly. I have seen a famous picture of the Crucifixion, which shows its sad beauty best when the window is darkened. Then there seems to shine a light of hope and splendour behind the Cross, and the face of the Saviour beams with tenderest love. So when the windows of our life are darkened, when bereavement, or ill-health, or disappointment come upon us, let us turn our eyes to the Crucified, and see a new light, a new meaning in our Saviour's sorrow, and our own. Let us learn that the trouble has come to lead us apart from the world and its selfish ways, that we may be alone—alone with God.
(Seventh Sunday after Trinity.)
ROMANS vi. 20.
"The servants of sin."
There is no existence in the world so sad as that of a slave; and there is no slavery so hard as that of sin, no taskmaster so bitter as the devil. There was a tyrant in the old times who ordered one of his subjects to make an iron chain of a certain length, in a given time. The man brought the work, and the tyrant bade him make it longer still. And he continued to add link to link, till at length the cruel taskmaster ordered his servants to bind the worker with his own chain, and cast him into the fire. That hardest of tyrants, the devil, treats his slaves in like manner. At first the chain of sin is light, and could easily be cast off. But day by day Satan bids his victims add another link. The servant of sin grows more hardened, more daring, more reckless in his evil way. He adds sin to sin, link to link, and then the end comes, and the tyrant binds him hand and foot with his own chain, and casts him into outer darkness, where there is weeping, and gnashing of teeth. Very often the slaves of sin do not know that theyareslaves. They talk about their freedom from restraint, they tell us they are their own masters, they would have us believe that the godly, who try to keep the commandments, and walk in the narrow way, are slaves, buttheyare free! Oh! fools, and slow of heart! As well might a prisoner cover his irons with a cloak, and try to pass as a free man. We canhear the clank of the chains. So is it with the slave of sin. Once I visited a madhouse, and talked with some of the poor patients. Some had one delusion, some another. One thought he was a king, another fancied himself the heir to a fortune. But one thing they all believed, that they were in their right minds.
My brothers, the slaves of sin are like these poor mad folk, they do not understand that what they call freedom is slavery, that what they style pleasure is misery, that instead of being the clever, reckless, free people they think themselves, they are only mad people possessed of the devil. First, then, we have seen that the servants of sin do not know that they are slaves. The tyrant, Satan, blinds their eyes before he binds them in the fetters of his prison house, even as the Philistines blinded the strong man of old. Next, the servants of sin bear about the marks of their master I have seen gangs of convicts working on Dartmoor. You could not mistake them for anything else if they were dressed in the best of clothing. The wordconvictis stamped upon every grey face, as plainly as the Government mark is stamped upon their clothing. The servants of sin have their marks also. Look at the shifty eyes, and downward glance of the knave and the false man; mark the flushed brow and cruel eyes of the angry man; see the weak lips and trembling hand of the drunkard; they bear the marks of their slavery very plainly. So, too, the sensualist who lives for his body, the impure man, the slave of lust, the criminal, haunted by a guilty secret, the selfish worldling, who cares only for this life; these all bear the traces of their sin upon them, these show whose they are, and whom they serve. Again, the servants of sin have their so-called enjoyments, these are the baits with which the tyrant gets them into his power. For a time the way of transgressors is made easy and pleasant. The broad road is shaded, and edged with fair fruits and flowers. The down-hill path is strewn with glittering jewels, the booths of vanity fair are fitted with all manner of delights, and the poor slave goes on, scarce feeling his chains, or knowing of his slavery, till the day of reckoning comes. "There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death." A saint of old once saw a man leading a herd of swine, which followed him willingly. The saint asked whither he was taking them, and he answered, to the slaughter. When the saint marvelled that the swine should go so readily to their death, the man showed him that they followed him for the sake of the sweet food in his hand, and knew not whither they were going. My brothers, the servants of sin follow Satan for the sake of the sweet things which he offers, and know not that they are going to their death, even the living death of a lost soul. Some of you remember the old German legend of doctor Faustus. It is a terrible parable of the fate of all those who become the slave of sin. Faustus is represented as a man of great learning, who used his knowledge for evil instead of good. Being filled with pride, he refused to bow down to God, and made a bargain with Satan that he was to have his own way, and every wish gratified for a certain term of years, and then he was to pay the price—his own soul. During those years he had all the health and strength of youth, he enjoyed all the pleasures of the body, the world, the flesh, and the devil were his servants. But one thing he lacked, he had not God, and so he had no hope. There were times when he thought of the horrible bargain which he had made. He desired to see Paradise and Hell, and he was shown a glimpse of both. His servants found him in deep sorrow, and asked him what he had seen, and what the sorrows of Hell were like. But he answered that he remembered not, one thing only he recalled, the peace and beauty of that Paradise which he had forfeited for ever. This is the story of every slave of sin.
My brothers, there are many who have bargained with Satan, offering the price of their own souls. When the Tempter came to the Saviour in the wilderness, he offered Him the glory and splendour of the world if Jesus would fall down and worship him. It is the same with us. Satan offers us this world instead of the world to come. He offers us our own way, so dear to all of us. He offers us the pleasures of the body, "let us eat and drink." He offers us self-indulgence in all the lusts of the flesh. He offers us all the flash and glitter of the world, but he does not let us see the foulness and rottenness which they cover. To the man of science he comes, as to Faustus in the legend, and tries to induce him to set up his knowledge against the All-wise, and to drive God out of His own fair universe. He does not show him how sad life must be without the knowledge of God: how miserable death must be without a Saviour. He comes to the man of business, and shows him visions of vast wealth. He whispers, "All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me." And that implies false dealing, sharp practice, trickery, knavery. It implies loss of self-respect, loss of honour, the reproaches of an ever-accusing conscience. The tempter comes to the young man or woman, and shows them all the delights of a life of pleasure. They see the sparkle of the wine cup, the glitter of the ball room, the pomp and vanities of this wicked world. But they do not see the other side of the picture. They do not see the grey, cold morning of sorrow which follows the night of dissipation and sin. The young woman looks on the tempting dress, the flash of jewels, the gay company. She does not see thepriceshe must pay. She cannot see herself disgraced and ruined, and cast aside like a broken toy. She can hear the music of the revel, but not the reproaches of a broken-hearted dying mother. The young man sees only the bright side of the picture, Satan keeps the dark side hidden. He fancies himself his own master, free from the restraints of home and parents, walking in his own way, in the lust of the eye, and the pride of life. Ah! brother, the way seems very charming now—it will be hard enough one day. The cup of pleasure seems very sweet now, the dregs thereof will be bitter enough one day: as for the ungodly, they shall drink them and suck them up. The food which the world offers seems as honey and the honeycomb now: the day is coming when it will be as ashes. You will come one day to the husks—the sick room, the dying bed,—and you will know that you gained this world and lost the world to come: like the rich man, you will in this life have had your good things, butyou will have paid the price. And those old words will have a terrible meaning for you then, "What shall it profit a man to gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" Yes, the servants of sin must fulfil their contract and receive their wages, and the wages of sin is death. Ah! brethren, be serious; are these things nothing to you? Are there none of you whoknowthat you are the slaves of some besetting sin? Look into your lives, see whose marks are upon you, whose servants you are. Are you still tied and bound with the chain of your sins? If so, turn you to Him who can alone set you free; to Him who drove the strong man armed from his palace; to Him who conquered Satan in the wilderness, in the garden, on the cross; to Him who can make the weakest strong, the most sorely tempted able to triumph; Who can wash the foulest life till it shall be whiter than snow. Brothers, dare we turn away and carry our chain of slavery longer? No, let us make a struggle to be free, and let our prayer be, "O God, whose nature and property is ever to have mercy and to forgive, receive our humble petitions; and though we be tied and bound with the chain of our sins, yet let the pitifulness of Thy great mercy loose us, for the honour of Jesus Christ, our Mediator and Advocate."
(Eighth Sunday after Trinity.)
S. MATT. vii. 16.
"Ye shall know them by their fruits."
The religion of Jesus Christ is one of deeds, not words; a life of action, not of dreaming. Our Lord warns us to beware of any form of religion, in ourselves or others, which does not bring forth good fruit. God does not look for the leaves of profession, or the blossoms of promise, He looks for fruit unto holiness. We may profess to believe in Jesus Christ, we may say the Creed without a mistake, we may read our Bible, and say our prayers, and yet, if our lives are bad, all our religion is vain. If we would know whether we are being led by the Holy Spirit, we must see if we are bringing forthfruitsof the Spirit. If we would discover if the works of a clock are right, we look at the hands. So, by our words and deeds we shall show whether our hearts are right with God. A religion of the lips is worth nothing. We may cry, "Lord, Lord," in our place in Church, we may repeat the words which speak of the Will of God, and utter pious wishes when we sing chant or hymn, and all the while we may be far off from the Kingdom of Heaven, because we are not in our lives doing the will of our Father which is in Heaven. If we are selfish, self-willed, proud, lovers of our own selves, our religion is but the sheep's clothing covering the wolfish heart, or the white paint hiding the corruption of the sepulchre. It is easy enough to assume the character and manner of a Christian, but to live the Christian life is not so easy. A man can make a sham diamond in a very short time, but the real gem must lie for ages in the earth before it can sparkle with perfect purity. We have far too many of these quickly made Christians amongst us, who have never brought forth fruits meet for repentance, nor gone through the fire of trial, and sorrow, and self-sacrifice. Do not trust to feelings, or words, in yourselves or others, look at your life; a real and a false diamond are very much alike, and yet there is all the difference in the world in their value.
"If ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live. For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God." My brothers, who is our leader and guide, the Holy Spirit, or our own will? How shall we know? By our fruits. They tell us that whenever the holy saint David, of Wales, stood up to preach, there came a milk-white dove, and sat upon his shoulder. It is a serious question for you and me, for preacher and people, does the White Dove perch on my shoulder as I preach? Does the Holy Ghost descend like a dove on you who hear? Men of business, anxious workers, is the White Dove with you in your factory, your farm, your office? Mothers and fathers, young men and maidens, is there a place in your home where the Holy Spirit may come, and continually dwell?
Let us look into our lives very closely, and see whether we are mistaking outward form for true religion, words and professions for holiness, leaves for fruit. What are some of the fruits which God looks for in the life of a Christian? At the head of all, I think, we must placelove. Ah! you will say to me,—I only wish I could love God more. It is so hard to love One whom we cannot see. I worship God, I try to keep His commandments, but I am not sure that IloveGod. My brother, my sister, let not your heart be troubled. If you really try to do God's Will it is a proof of your love. "If ye love Me, keep My commandments." "For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments. If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar. We know that we do know Him if we keep His commandments." You can show your love to God by showing love and kindness to your brethren. By kindly judgments of another's fault; by gentle words of comfort, of pity, or of warning; by tender hands stretched out to bring back the wandering sheep; by loving acts of charity to the sick and suffering; by care for the poor bruised reeds of this rough world, you can show your love for God, who is the source of all love. If we love God we shall try to lead others to Him. A true Christian cannot be selfish. Think of the example you set to others. Is it a good one, a strong one, a light shining before men so that they can see your good works? At the battle of Tel-el-Keber our troops had no sufficient plans of the ground. The General therefore ordered a young naval officer to lead the Highland Brigade by the light of the stars to their destined post. When the fight began the Highlanders were ready, and among the first to fall was their young leader. The victory was gained, and the General hastened to the tent of his wounded officer. The dying man smiled as he raised his trembling hand to his commander, and looking him in the face said, "General, didn't I lead them straight?" My brothers, we are leading our fellow men by the example of our lives, the question is,are we leading them straight?
Another fruit for which God looks in a Christian's life ishumility. Every act and word of our Saviour's earthly life teaches us to be humble. Let the haughty, the proud, the self-satisfied man, open his Gospel, and he will find a reproof to his pride on every page. Let him bend his head, and bow his stiff knee before the Almighty God, cradled in a manger, fasting in the desert, homeless, friendless, silent before His foes, stripped, mocked and beaten, dying upon the Cross. Go, my brother, and bow your head at Gethsemane; go, kneel before the Cross of Calvary, and ask God to make you humble. The longer a true Christian lives the more humble-minded he becomes. A young man, just starting in life, holds his head high, and is inclined to look down on others. But as he journeys on through the world, learning by experience, his head grows bent and lowly. So is it with Christ's people. The longer we go to His School, and the more we know of the way of godliness, the humbler we become. Like S. Paul, we count not that we have attained the mark, we only press forward towards it. We begin with shame to take the lowest place, we learn to consider others better than ourselves, and to say to our Lord, "I am not worthy that Thou shouldest come under my roof." As the laden fruit tree bends its branches nearest to the earth, and the fullest ears of corn hang lowest, so the holiest man is ever the humblest. In a certain city abroad every child found begging in the streets is taken to a charitable asylum. Before he is washed, and dressed anew, his portrait is taken as he stands in his beggar's rags. When his education is finished, this picture is given to the child, and he is made to promise that he will keep it all his life, that he may be reminded what he was, and what great things have been done for him. It is good for us to remember, my brothers, what we were: helpless wanderers in this world, clothed in filthy rags of sin; and we must remember, too, what God has done for us. How He has redeemed us from our slavery, making us His own children by adoption, washing us in the Blood of Christ which cleanseth from all sin, and giving us the white robe of holiness. Who is there who, thinking upon these things, can be other than humble? Let us examine ourselves, and see whether we are bringing forth that fruit. We preach humility to others, we expect to see it in others' lives, are we humble ourselves? Have we learnt to walkhumblywith our God?
Another fruit which God expects in the lives of His people isforgetfulness of self. Have you stayed to calculate how much of your time is occupied in thinking and talking of yourselves? In some houses they line the rooms with looking glasses, so that wherever you turn you see a reflection of yourself. My brethren, some of us pass all our lives in such a room; we are for ever contemplating our own selves. We spend our time in looking into a mirror that we may see our beauty, our cleverness, our fine clothing. One glass reflects our pleasures and amusements, another our sorrows and misfortunes. But every inch of space is so filled with self that there is no room for another's joys or sorrows, and, above all, there is no room for Jesus. Let us strive by God's grace to get away from self, and the eternal thinking and talking of our own concerns. Even Jesus Christ pleased not Himself, and believe me, we are no Christians unless we are trying to forget ourselves, and to deny ourselves. We must be crucified with Christ if we are to reign with Him, and alas for us if we cannot show the marks of the nails where we have been fastened to our cross. My brethren, these are serious thoughts for us all. By our fruits, and by them only, we shall be known. If our lives show no love, no humility, no self-sacrifice, no patience, no meekness, how shall we stand when the great day of ingathering comes? Often the Dresser of the Vineyard has looked upon some of us, seeking fruit, and finding none, and we know not how soon the sentence may go forth, "Cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground."
(Ninth Sunday after Trinity.)
S. LUKE xvi. 2.
"Give an account of thy stewardship."
My brothers, we shall all hear that command one day. When our earthly business is finished and done with, when our debts are paid, and our just claims settled, and our account books balanced for the last time, we must render our account to God, the Righteous Judge. But it is not only at the day of Judgment that the Lord so calls upon us.ThenHe will ask for the final reckoning,—"Give an account of thy stewardship, for thou mayest be no longer steward." Now, whilst we are yet alive on the earth, whilst we are still in the enjoyment of our stewardship, God, at certain times, calls for an account. Whenever the Holy Spirit touches our hearts, and stirs our conscience, and we look into the secret places of our life, and examine ourselves, then we hear the whisper of God, "Give an account of thy stewardship—how much owest thou unto my Lord?" Then at our dying bed there will be all our past life; our youth, our manhood, our working days, our times of pleasure, these will all be clamouring in our ears—"Give an account of thy stewardship." The dying bed of a sinner, who has wasted his life, will be haunted by the ghosts and phantoms of the past. Days dead and gone, sins dead and forgotten, yet not forgiven, will be there to trouble the thoughts of the dying man, to murmur, "God requireth that which is past; give an account of thy stewardship." Such a death-bed must be an awful thing, no wonder that some people are said todie hard. It must be indeed a sad ending to a misspent life, to leave it amid the shadowy crowd of our former faults and failures; to the sound of the evil words which we have spoken; to the stern summons of our unquiet conscience—"Give an account of thy stewardship." May the merciful Jesus save us from such a death as that. And that we may find pardon and peace at the last, let us use the present, and not allow our account to grow, like that of a reckless debtor, till we are overwhelmed by the amount. We are all the stewards of Almighty God. Whatever things we possess are our Master's goods. Let us see how we have used them hitherto. "Give an account of thy stewardship."
What are some of the goods which our Master, God, has entrusted to our care? First of all, there is the treasure oftime. Our years, our months, and weeks, and days, are all so many precious jewels lent to us, and we must give a strict account of every one of them. Every day of our life has its special work for God; have we always tried to do the day's work with our might? Every day of our life is a teacher in God's great School, and brings its lesson; have we tried to learn the lesson aright? If we must give an account for every idle word, so surely must we for every idle day. And remember that any time spent entirely on selfish pleasure, or amusement, is wasted. Unless we are doing some good, we are certainly doing some harm. There is a motto very commonly engraved upon a sundial, which means that the moments of time are perishing, and are being recorded in God's Book. Yes, they are being put down to our account on one side or the other, just as we have used, or misused, them. Look on two death-beds. A Queen of England is dying, surrounded by her attendants. What are the last words they hear her speak, as she passes over the brink of eternity? "All my possessions for a moment of time!" Now look on another picture. An English Admiral lies wounded unto death. The decks are slippery with blood, and the air dark with smoke; but the sound of many voices is heard, it is the British shout of victory. The dying hero clasps the hand of his friend, and murmurs, "Now I am satisfied; thank God, I have done my duty." Brethren, our ending of this life must be like one of these. Either we must cry helplessly over wasted days, which cannot return, and beg in vain for time to right some wrong; or we shall die with the comforting thought that, in spite of many faults and failures, we have tried to do our duty. Remember that time once lost cannot be recovered. "Lost wealth may be replaced by industry, lost knowledge by study, lost health by temperance and medicine, but lost time is gone for ever."
Again, "give an account of thy stewardship," of the good things which God has given you; your creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life; and above all, the redemption of the world by Jesus Christ our Lord. I knew a man once who said that he was not thankful to God for having created him. I think that man was wrong. We ought to thank God for having made us, for if He had not we could never know the joys of Heaven. This world is full of beauty, full of good things, and we must give an account of our stewardship of them. God has sent the sun to warm and cheer us, blue skies and flower-dotted meadows, seed time and harvest, summer and winter, wind and storm fulfilling His Word. Too often we take these gifts as a matter of course, and forget to thank God, who giveth all. God has fed you, and clothed you, and preserved you all these years; have you been thankful? "Give an account of thy stewardship." Then think what we owe God for our redemption, for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory. For each of us Jesus suffered hunger and thirst, the temptation in the wilderness, the agony in the Garden, the cruel torture of the Cross. Do we think lightly of our sins? They were heavy enough to drive those piercing nails through the Hands and Feet of Jesus. Do wespeaklightly of our sins? They were heavy enough to force that bitter cry from Jesus, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" How much do you owe unto our Lord for these benefits? "Give an account of thy stewardship."
Then, too, the means of grace—how are we using them? There are the Sacraments of the Church, do we value them as we ought? Do we understand the privilege and the blessing of having been baptised into Christ's Holy Church, and made partakers of the resurrection of Jesus? Do we appreciate the value of that Holy Sacrament, when we bring our children to be baptised? Then think of that other Sacrament, the blessed legacy of our dying Saviour's love, the Holy Food of us travellers through the wilderness. Why are not all of you who hear me now Communicants? Why should there be two classes among you; one class of Church-goers only, the other of Church-goers who are Communicants? Your Saviour offers you the highest of all blessings in that Sacrament, He offers you Himself. Are you afraid to look upon God? Youmustlook on Him one day. Are you trying to live without the Precious Food of the Altar? Man doth not live by bread alone; hecannotlive by bread alone, unless God feeds him there is no life in him. As you turn away from this Altar, and go to that other altar which you have raised to some unworthy idol, does there come no reproach to you, no warning voice—"What hast thou done? Give an account of thy stewardship." And so with all the means of grace, we must give an account of them. Our Confirmation, that solemn coming of age, when we were bidden to take unto us the whole armour of God; have we remembered that, and all its responsibilities? Our prayers in private, and our public worship in Church, we must answer to God for them. When you are tempted to hurry over your prayers, to say words with no heart, perhaps no meaning in them; or when in Church you are silent and inattentive, instead of throwing all your heart and mind into the act of worship; remember that for all these things God will bring you into judgment, and will say, "Give an account of thy stewardship." Is that your Bible on the shelf, covered with tell-tale dust? Well, God lent you that good thing, and He will ask for an account of your use of it, or your neglect.
Then again, God has sent you trials, sorrows, losses, as teachers who warn you of your state. You must render an account for them. You stood by the grave of someone stricken very suddenly by death. That was a message sent to you by God, reminding you that man's time passeth away like a shadow, and bidding you take heed to your ways. Did you listen to the warning, my brother, and take heed? Some of you have lost your money, others your health; some have seen their cherished plans disappointed, their dearest wishes fail. All these are whispers from God, warnings from the Unseen. Have you understood them? God will ask you one day.
Again, God has given you bodies and mindsin trust. You must give an account of your use of them. Are you keeping those bodies of yours as temples of the Holy Ghost, in purity, chastity, temperance? Or have you defiled those holy temples with drunkenness and lust? "Give an account of thy stewardship." Man of business, God has given you a quick brain, a keen eye, an aptitude for you [Transcriber's note: your?] calling. How are you using these things? Are you in your business walking honestly, as in the day? Will your accounts bear looking into by God's Eye? "Give an account of thy stewardship."
Fathers and mothers, God has given you children, souls precious in His sight. Do you take good care of those souls? You clothe your children, you feed them, you educate them; yes, but do you take care of theirsouls? Do you educate them for Heaven? Do you give them that best of all teaching—a good example? What if our children fall through our fault, because we have set no good pattern before them! What if they never get to Heaven because they have never seenuswalking in the right way! God grant that these solemn thoughts may sink deeply into our hearts, and bear fruit of amendment, before the day when God shall say to me who preach, and you who hearken—"Give an account of thy stewardship."
(Tenth Sunday after Trinity.)
S. LUKE xix. 41.
"He beheld the city, and wept over it."
The saddest sight, save one, in the history of the world is that pictured in the text—the Son of God weeping over the city which God had chosen to put His Name there. Let us, in fancy, to-day look upon the scene on which our Saviour looked, and recall the history of that city which had lost sight of the things concerning her peace. No other city in the world, not even Rome, has such a wonderful story as Jerusalem. Looking back into the past we see the city as the stronghold of the heathen Jebusites, perched on her rocky crest, and holding out when every other fenced city had yielded to the arms of David. The Jebusites were the last old inhabitants of the land to give place to the conqueror; they trusted in the marvellous strength of their position, where "they had made their nest in a rock." They trusted in "the everlasting gates," which had never been forced by an invader; and they declared boastfully that the blind and the lame were strong enough to defend their citadel, and that David should not come in thither. But, as we know, the day came when David attacked the city, and declared that the man who first smote the Jebusites should be chief and captain, and that man was Joab. Still looking back over the past, we see David solemnly consecrating the once heathen city to the God of his Fathers. The Ark, the most sacred treasure which Israel possessed, was brought home with solemn state and loud rejoicing after its long exile. As the procession of Priests and Levites, with the king and his chief captains, wound up the steep ascent, there rose the famous shout which Israel had so often uttered in the wilderness—"Let God arise, and let His enemies be scattered. Arise, O Lord, into Thy rest, Thou and the Ark of Thy strength." And as the Ark is borne nearer to the ancient gates, which once defended the heathen Jebusite against all foes, a new cry is raised—"Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be lift up ye everlasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in." And so the Ark entered into Jerusalem, henceforth the Holy City, of which God said, "The Lord had chosen Zion, He hath desired it for His habitation." Still looking at this Jerusalem of the past, we see the same David fallen from his high estate, sore punished for his sin, weeping for the dying child of His shame, fleeing from the city before the threats of another son whom he had loved "not wisely, but too well." Then we see the buildings of the temple rising high above palace and homestead, and mark the glory, and the wisdom, and the weakness of Solomon. Later we see clouds of sin and sorrow gathering thick over Zion. Idolatrous kings have set up their heathen altars and high places. Of nearly every monarch the same dark sentence is recorded—he did "that which was evil in the sight of the Lord." The days come when we see the Temple of God closed; no sound of Psalm, no smoke of incense within its walls. Men burn sacrifices to Baal and Ashtaroth, and the Valley of Hinnom echoes with the cries of hapless children offered to Moloch, the hideous idol of the Ammonite. We see the Ark of God cast out of the holy of holies, the name of Jehovah removed from every public document, the altars of God overthrown, and His Priests slain with the sword. Even to-day they point to the mulberry tree of Isaiah, where one of the greatest of the prophets was slain in the Valley of Kedron. Still looking back, we see the hand of the spoiler and the oppressor busy with the city which had forgotten God—forgotten the things which concerned its peace. The ruined walls, the desecrated temple, the mournful band of exiles, all these seem to pass before us like a dream. Then for a time come brighter scenes, as Israel returns from its exile, and with joyful Psalms sings, "Let them rejoice whom the Lord hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy, and gathered them out of all lands."
Such was the Jerusalem of the past, over which the Son of God gazed and wept. What was the Jerusalem of the present, on which He looked; what of the future? It was a doomed city, because in spite of all its chances, its warnings, its opportunities, it repented not. Its Rulers and Chief Priests refused to hear the Word of God spoken by the Messiah. What the common people listened to gladly, what the fishermen of Galilee, and the sick and sorrowing rejoiced to hear, Jerusalem rejected. And so Jerusalem was doomed. Over gorgeous temple, stately palace, and quiet home alike was written Ichabod—thy glory is departed. Already the axe was laid to the root of the tree; already the sentence had gone forth, "cut it down: why cumbereth it the ground?" Already the hand of the destroyer was upon the city; the Roman eagle glittered amid the halls of Zion, and the once glorious sceptre had departed from Judah. Over such a city Jesus wept. And what of the future? The end came soon. Quickly the Jews filled up the measure, of their sins. Little thought they, as they watched with jibe and insult the agonies of God's Son, that those streets of theirs should run red with the blood of their best and bravest. That famine, and pestilence, and treachery, and civil war should all attack them within, whilst the Roman hosts surrounded them without. Little they thought that the temple where Jesus had been presented, where He had talked with the doctors, where He had taught such wondrous lessons, should be burned by the hand of the enemy; that its altars should drip with Jewish blood; the abomination of desolation stand in the holy place, and the golden candlestick grace a victor's triumph in the streets of Rome. Little thought those cruel men, who crucified the Lord of Life, that within a while the Romans should crucify their brethren outside the walls of Jerusalem, till there was no wood left to make a cross. "If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this day, the things which belong to thy peace! But now they are hid from thine eyes!"
Brothers, those tears of Jesus should be very precious and very terrible to us. Precious, because they teach us the sympathy, the tenderness of Christ; terrible, because they show us the awfulness of sin. What must sin be like if it made God weep! Are there no cities, no towns, among us over which Jesus might shed tears? Think of the crimes of our great busy centres of wealth and commerce; think of the fraud and falsehood which too often disgrace our trade; think of the selfish, cruel struggle for wealth, in which the weak are trampled down and ruined; think of the shameful scenes which night after night make our streets hideous, and then ask whether or not Jesus weeps. And more than this, let us bring the matter home to ourselves. Each one of us is, so to speak, a city, a temple of the living God. We have been consecrated to Him in Baptism, as was Jerusalem by the coming of the Ark. God has promised that He will dwell in us. Are we trying to keep our lives pure and holy, remembering that we are the temples of the Holy Ghost? Is God dwelling in the holy of holies of our heart, or have we cast Him out, like Israel of old, to make room for some unworthy idol? A man's god is that which he loves, admires, and trusts to most. It may be money, it may be pleasure, or fame, or beauty: these are all idols.
Brethren, who is your God? Who dwells in the secret place, the holy of holies of your heart? God's people Israel were commanded to keep the sacred fire always burning upon the altar of sacrifice. It was never to go out. It was to be fed daily with wood, and with sacrifices of a sweet-smelling savour. It is supposed that this sacred fire was kept burning for a period of eight hundred years, till the reign of the wicked king Manasseh. From his days, when the fire was suffered to go out, the nation fell lower and lower into absolute ruin. When we were baptised, the sacred fire of the Holy Spirit came down upon the altar of our hearts. Are we keeping that holy flame alight? Are we feeding it with offerings of self-sacrifice and love; offerings of a sweet-smelling savour to God? If we have allowed the sacred fire to die out of our hearts God is no longer there. Our life is like the desecrated temple of the Jews, silent, abandoned by all, except by foul things which dwell in desolate places. Oh! that our eyes were open to see our true state; to see the things concerning our peace, before the fatal day when they shall be hid for ever from our eyes!
An ancient legend tells us that the Centurion who pierced our Lord's side at the crucifixion was a soldier named Longinus, and that he was blind. When the Blood poured from the wounded side of Jesus it was sprinkled on the blind eyes of the Centurion, and he received his sight and testified, "Of a truth this was the Son of God."
May that same Precious, Redeeming Blood open our eyes to see our sin, and to know Jesus as our Saviour. Then we shall ask Him to come into the temple of our heart, as He went into the Jewish temple of old, and to cast out all those evil demons of lust, and selfishness, and pride, and envy which defile the shrine of our body. We shall ask Him to cleanse and purify the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of His Holy Spirit. We shall ask Him to break down the idols which we have set up in His Holy Place, and to overthrow the altars reared to self. We shall pray that the sacred fire may once more be kindled, and the sacrifice and oblation of our love once more offered, since "the sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit, a broken and a contrite heart, O God, shalt Thou not despise."
Brethren, if we have caused Jesus to weep over our lives, to weep over our wasted chances and neglected opportunities; if He has mourned over the city of our life, wherein we have crucified Him afresh, let us turn to Him now. Those tears tell us of His love, His mercy, His great pitifulness. Let our prayer be now—"O be favourable and gracious unto Zion; build Thou the walls of Jerusalem. Lord, hear our prayer, and let our cry come unto Thee."
(Eleventh Sunday after Trinity.)
1 COR. xv. 10.
"By the Grace of God I am what I am."
In the Epistle and Gospel of the day we read the words of two Pharisees, who offer a very striking contrast. The one is S. Paul, the great Apostle, who humbly declares that he is not fit to be called an Apostle, because he had persecuted the Church of Christ. The other is the nameless Pharisee of the parable, who trusted in himself, and despised others. In the case of S. Paul we see the marks of a true conversion, of a real repentance. He had been proud; as haughty and vain of his religion as the Pharisee of the parable; but he had seen his sin and repented of it, wherefore he abhorred himself. He had been brought exceeding low, and then it was that he was accepted to be God's Apostle. When he looked back upon his past life, the picture filled him with shame, and humility. He recalled the day when they stoned S. Stephen, and he was consenting to his death. He remembered how he had seized innocent men and women, and dragged them to prison, merely because they confessed Christ crucified. He knew that many a happy family had been broken up; many a child torn from its mother's arms; many a husband sent to chains and martyrdom, because of the faith of Christ. And remembering these things, S. Paul forgets the glorious work which he had since done for Jesus, and declares himself the least of all Apostles, unworthy of the name. He does not, like that other Pharisee, boast of his good deeds, but only declares humbly that it is by the Grace of God that he is what he is. Here, then, we have a test to try whether our repentance is real or not. When we look back upon our past sins and failures, does the memory make us sad—make us humble? If we do not hate our old sins our repentance is not true. And again, if the recollection of our faults does not make ushumble, we have not really repented. Directly we find ourselves trusting in our own righteousness, and despising others; boasting of what we were, and what we are; walking through the world with our head lifted up, and talking with a stiff neck, let us be sure that we are in great danger. Let us get to our Lord right humbly, crying with the Publican "Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner." Learn, too, from S. Paul's words, that if we are trying to lead holy, gentle, pure lives, it is by God's grace that we are what we are. Not by our own sword and our own right hand have we gotten the victory. It is God's grace and help which alone help us to lead a holy life. Let us think, then, how that grace may be obtained. God's grace comes to us through certain channels ordained by God Himself, and these are, speaking generally, the Sacraments and Ordinances of the Church, Prayer, and the study of the Bible.
Let me speak of one special means of grace to-day—Confirmation. It may be that there are some here who are not confirmed, and are not willing to offer themselves for that holy rite. The hindrances which keep people from Confirmation differ with different people. There is one class of persons which will not be confirmed because it does not care about God, or desire to lead a holy life. A young man or woman of this class says, I mean to have my own way; I am not going to be tied and bound by promises and vows; I shall do what I like, whether it be right or wrong. Such persons are, I hope and believe, uncommon. Then there is a second class of people, which is indifferent about Confirmation, because it does not fully understand the blessings belonging to it. These people have probably never been taught true Church doctrine, and so they tell us that Confirmation may be a very good thing, but they can do very well without it. They tell us that they know such an one who has never been confirmed, and who is a very good man. They assure us that they do not "hold with Confirmation; they do not see the use of it." Precisely, they "do not hold" with it, because they know nothing about it. Then there are others who form a third class, who have grown up, grown old, perhaps, without being confirmed, who tell us that they are too old now; that they have lived all these years without Confirmation, and are all right, and that therefore they see no reason why they should come forward.
Now, I will say a few words to each of these classes of people. First, let me speak to those who refuse to be bound by any vow or promise, because they do not care to lead a godly life. They imagine that if they are not confirmed they are free to do as they like. But it is not so. They are bound by the vows and promises of their Baptism, and they cannot throw them aside. To such persons I say, youareGod's children, signed with the Cross, pledged to lead a holy life. If you make up your mind to have your own way, to do what you like, even though it be wrong, then you commit a deadly sin. You are doing just what Satan did, rebelling against God, and the wages of such sin is death. Understand distinctly that, as baptised people, you belong to God; if you sin, you sin against Jesus Christ; if you repent truly, God will pardon you for Christ's sake; if you go on sinning, you will be lost. If you say, I will not be confirmed, because then I shall be free to do as I like, you will be committing deadly sin, and saying what is not true also.
Next, I speak to those who are indifferent about Confirmation, because they do not believe, or probably understand, the benefits belonging to it. Let me speak very earnestly to them. I take it for granted that you want to please God; that you want to lead good lives; to be saved, to go to Heaven. You have been baptised, you bring your children to be baptised. Well, Confirmation and Baptism are very closely connected. Baptismgives us life; Confirmation strengthens us tolive that life. Baptism is only the beginning of life. You know we have two kinds of life: that of the soul, and that of the body. When we are born our bodies are alive, but our souls are dead in trespasses and sins; we are spiritually dead. Now life is the gift of God the Holy Ghost; in the Creed we speak of the Holy Spirit as "The Lord, and Giver of life." In Baptism, God the Holy Spirit comes to us, we are born again of water and the Holy Ghost, we become new creatures. We are no longer children of sin, but children of God, and heirs of eternal life. Thus we begin our spiritual existence, and commence to walk in the narrow way. But not all who are baptised go on leading a holy life. It does not follow that because we are born again we shall be saved. We have been made God's children, but we may become prodigals, and leave our Father's House. We have been made heirs of everlasting salvation, but we may forfeit our inheritance. What we need is strength to keep on the right way, to persevere to the end, to resist the temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil. Now think specially about Confirmation. All of you will admit that we are very weak creatures. No one here will dare to say that he is strong enough by himself to keep on the right way. No one here will deny the truth of those words, "We are not sufficient of ourselves to think anything as of ourselves, but our sufficiency is of God." Well, if we are naturally weak, we need special strength and help, just as a new-born babe requires care, food, warmth, to keep it alive. We want strength to keep our souls, our spiritual nature, alive. Confirmation is one very important means by which this strength, this grace of God, is given to us. In Confirmation, God the Holy Ghost, who gave us life, makes us strong to live such a life here that we may abide with God, and continually dwell with Him hereafter. Surely there is no one amongst us unwise enough to say—I do not need this strength, I am strong enough by myself. But there are some here, perhaps, who will tell me that they do need strength, that they do want the help of the Holy Spirit, and that they can obtain that strength without being confirmed. They will tell me that they do not hold with rites and ceremonies, and that God can give us His grace without them. Yes, Godcan, but God will not. God will give us help in His own way, not in our way. He has ordained certain channels, as I have already told you, by which His grace comes to us, and by them only. There are some who say—"I do not see the need of Sacraments." Then why did God ordain Baptism, and order His disciples to baptise all nations? Why did Jesus, on the night of His betrayal, ordain the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and command His disciples—"Do this, in remembrance of Me?" Others, again, will say—I do not see the use of Confirmation, it is only a ceremony. Why then has the Church, from the earliest ages, from the days of S. Paul and the other Apostles, used Confirmation? If it be only a ceremony, what does the Bible mean by saying that when the Apostles laid their hands upon certain persons they received the Holy Ghost? And remember that what the Apostles did, the Bishops, as their descendants, have done ever since. But some men will say—why cannot God give me grace and strength without these forms? And I answer, simply because it is not God's pleasure; we are not to teach Him, but to obey Him. If you read your Bible you will find that God constantly used earthly means to provide spiritual blessings. When the people were threatened with the destroying angel in Egypt, they were bidden to sprinkle the blood of the Paschal Lamb on their door-posts. This was a rite, or ceremony, but if neglected, death followed. The Israelites, who were bitten by fiery serpents, were commanded to look on the brazen serpent, made and lifted up by Moses. That was a ceremony, but to disregard it meant death. When Naaman wished to be healed of his leprosy, he was bidden to wash in Jordan seven times. That was a ceremony, but it was the only means of his cure. There must be a channel, a communication, between God and man through which His grace comes. Suppose you were to come to a deep well, but had no pitcher or other vessel to let down into it, of what use would the water be to you? You forgot that "the well is deep, and you have nothing to draw with." You have seen the telegraph instruments in the post office. Well, there is plenty of electricity there to send your message for hundreds of miles, but if there isno wirethe force of the electricity is in vain.
But perhaps some men will say to me—I know certain sects who do not believe in Confirmation. My brethren, how does that concern you? I know certain people who never wash themselves, who never pray; but what have they to do with us? I am speaking to believers, to Church people, not to outsiders. I am speaking to those who are baptised into the Church of Christ, and for whom it was promised that they should be brought to the Bishop, to be confirmed by him. I think, then, that you must see that it isrightto be confirmed, because the Church has ordered Confirmation, and used it from the beginning; and next, that it is good for us to be confirmed, because we are too weak of ourselves to lead holy lives. Now let me say a word, in ending, to those who have grown up, grown old, perhaps, without Confirmation. What is their excuse? They say—I have neglected Confirmation so long, it is not worth while now. I have gone on so far without it, and I am all right. My brothers, how do you know that you are all right? You cannot see into your own heart, God can, and does. You may think you are alive, and behold, you are dead. You cannot beall rightwhilst you are disobeying God. Remember Samson. He knew not that the Spirit of the Lord had departed from him. What if the Holy Ghost has left you, and you know it not? What if the Holy Spirit no longer dwells in you, what must the end of such a life be? Eternal death. Do you tell me that you have delayed so long that it is too late now? I answer, it isnottoo late to mend. Suppose a man to have neglected prayer for years, is that any reason why he should not begin to pray now?
If any of you have neglected a plain duty, and shrunk from receiving the precious gifts of the Holy Spirit, make up for the past now; do not offer excuses, but never rest till you can say with truth, "By the grace of God I am what I am."
(Twelfth Sunday after Trinity.)
S. MARK vii. 37.
"He hath done all things well. He maketh both the deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak."
Such was the verdict of the people who saw one of our Lord's miracles. How far more strongly may we say the same, having seen the work of Christ in the life of the Church at large, and in each of our individual souls! We cannot look on the world of nature without echoing the words of the text. No thoughtful man can mark the spring-time coming to the woods and hedgerows, and waking the sleeping plants as with the wand of an enchanter, or see the orchards white into the harvest of fruit, or look into the gold mine of the ripe corn, or gaze at the slumbering earth in winter, wrapped in its white sleeping dress of snow, without acknowledging the truth that God hath done all things well in thecreationof the world. No Christian man can look at the earthly life of Jesus, without feeling that He hath done all things well in theredemptionof the world. Whether we look on Jesus as the lowly Child, setting an example of obedience, increasing in favour with God and man; or as the humble worker, showing the dignity of labour in the workshop of Joseph the carpenter; or as the Friend of Sinners, teaching the fallen woman at the well; or as the sympathising Brother of Humanity, weeping for Lazarus, and drying the tears of the widow; or as the Teacher, speaking as never man spake; or as the Meek Sufferer, bowed down in Gethsemane, silent before the jibing crowd, praying for those who nailed Him to the Cross, we must accept the perfect life, the perfect pattern, and declare—"He hath done all things well."
But turning from this subject in its wider sense, let us look specially at the miracle of to-day's Gospel. A man is brought to Jesus, deaf, and having an impediment in his speech. It is a well-known fact that those who cannot hear sounds are usually unable to utter them correctly. Now let us regard this miracle from a spiritual point of view. There are among us many who are spiritually deaf, and cannot speak aright. And it is because they are deaf to the voice of God, that they speak amiss. God utters His voice in many different tones, but their ears have waxed heavy and they cannot hear. God speaks to us by theVoice of Nature. This world has a myriad of voices for those who have ears to hear. There is the voice of praise and thanksgiving going up from singing bird, and rustling forest, and rushing waterfall. Every flower is an altar of pure incense, offering its sacrifice of a sweet-smelling savour. "Earth, with ten thousand voices, praises God;" and yet some of us hear nothing of these things because we are spiritually deaf. Again, God speaks to us by theVoice of Conscience—a still, small voice, speaking from the innermost sanctuary of our soul. And some of us hear it not. They have stopped their ears like the deaf adder, and so they go on wilfully sinning—deaf to the Voice of God. I have read how a notorious prisoner, who had been convicted of many serious crimes, was found to have the whole story of our Lord's crucifixion marked upon his breast. How utterly deaf to the voice of conscience that man must have been! Although he bore in his body the marks of the Lord Jesus, yet he was the slave of the worst sins.
My brothers, we all bear the sign of the Cross, given to us in our Baptism, and if our ears have become deaf to the Voice of God, that cross is a witness against us. Sometimes we hear of a man being arrested who has on him a certain letter, which marks him as a deserter from the army. Are there any among us who feel that God has set that fatal mark on them: the sign that they, once soldiers and servants of Jesus Christ, have deserted their Leader, gone back, and followed no longer after Him? Then again, God speaks to us by theVoice of His Church. There is no asylum in the world where you will find so many deaf people as at a service in Church. Their ears are open to listen to the praises of their friends, or the eager talk of the market, and the place of business; but the warnings of God, the message of Christ's pardoning love, the threat of punishment, or the absolving word, fall unheeded upon deaf ears. How often from that altar has the loving message been uttered—"Come unto Me, all ye that travail and are heavy laden," "Take, eat; this is My Body, which was given for you," and the deaf ears heard not, nor understood? How often has the wickedness of sin been proclaimed in this place, and the deaf ears heard only ofanother'sfaults, without heeding the warning cry—"Thouart the man?" And these people go through life unconscious of their danger, just as a deaf man would walk along a railway and never hear the sound of the advancing train.
Notice, too, that those who are spiritually deaf have also an impediment in their speech. This is shown in many different ways. When I find persons who will not speak out boldly for the honour of Jesus Christ, who will not confess Him before the world, I know they have an impediment in their speech. When I find persons in Church silent throughout the Service, making no responses, singing no Psalm, or Chant, or Hymn, I know they have an impediment in their speech: they will not put their tongue to its right use, which is to praise God with the best member that we have. If I find a man saying what is false, hesitating to give a plain, straightforward answer, I know that he has an impediment in his speech, his stammering tongue cannot utter the truth. If I hear a man wild with passion, using bad language, I know that he has an impediment, he cannot shape good words with his tongue. And so with those who tell impure stories, or retail cruel gossip about their neighbour's character, they are all alike afflicted people, deaf to the Voice of God, and with an impediment in their speech. And now let us look at the means of cure. They are precisely the same as those mentioned in to-day's Gospel. They brought the afflicted man to Jesus. That is the first step. If we would find pardon and healing we must be brought to Jesus. The Holy Spirit leads the sinner back in many different ways. It was the reading of one text of Scripture which turned Augustine from his evil life. It was the single wordEternityprinted in the tract which a man had torn scoffingly in two, and which lay in a scrap of paper on his arm, that led him to repent. Sometimes it is a word in a sermon, or a verse in a hymn; sometimes it is the question of a little child, or the sight of a dead face in a coffin; but whatever it is which brings us back to Jesus, that must be the first step to finding pardon and healing.
And next, Jesus wasbesoughtto heal the afflicted man. My brethren, our plain duty, as Christians, is to intercede for our fellow men. We are often far too selfish in our petitions. Whilst we humbly remember our own sins, and pray for pardon, let us beseech the Lord also for others. And then Jesus took the man aside from the multitude. The Lord could have healed him with a word in the midst of that crowd; but He took him aside. Why? Surely to teach us a lesson, that if we want to be healed of our sins, we must go aside out of the crowd of our everyday words, and thoughts, and companions. We must seek some quiet time, and place, where we can get away from the world, and be alone with God. So much of the religion of the day is thin and shallow, because people do not think about it enough; they have never gone aside out of the world. The multitude of worldly cares and pleasures, work, money getting, politics, jostle them on all sides, so that they cannot come near to Jesus and be healed. Have you never felt this when you have knelt down to pray? You have not been able to tell your secrets to God, any more than you would tell them to a friend, in the midst of a multitude. You want to go aside out of the crowd, where you can speak quietly. When you have knelt down, although it may have been in your own room alone, yet there is a crowd with you—a multitude of disturbing thoughts. To-day's work, and to-morrow's pleasure, the money to be paid, or the money that is owing to you, the cares of eating, and drinking, and clothing, the recollection of a trouble, real or fancied, the remembrance of some sharp word that made us smart and tingle, all these things make a crowd, and keep us back from Jesus. I do not say that we can get away from the throng of thoughts entirely, but Idosay that we should try every day of our lives to go aside out of the crowd, and find a quiet time, when we can think, and talk to God.
And next, Jesus put His fingers into the deaf man's ears. If we would find pardon and peace,Jesus must touch us. It will not help us to believe only in a Saviour who died, we must acknowledge One who is alive for evermore. It will not avail us to think of a Jesus who has gone away into Heaven, we must look to Christ ever abiding here in His Church. When we draw near to Him in the sacred service of that Church, Jesus puts His Hands upon us. When we have truly repented of our sins, and the words of absolution are spoken, we have the pardoning Hand of Jesus laid upon us. When we kneel at the Altar of the Blessed Sacrament, Jesus touches our every part. Our sinful bodies are made clean by His Body. He lays His Hands upon ear, and eye, and tongue, and heart. He opens our eyes to see the wondrous things of His law; He unseals our ears to listen to the Voices of God; He touches our lips with a live coal from off the Altar, and our mouth shall show forth His praise. He strengthens our tottering feet to walk in the narrow way, and dismisses us with His Blessing, "depart in peace, thy faith hath saved thee."
Never look for Jesus afar off, or speak of Him as though He were lost. Jesus is here, standing in our midst to-day. He is ready now, as of old, to cure all manner of diseases. My brother, what aileth thee? Is it well with thee; is it well with the husband; is it well with the child? Prove to-day the truth of those words, "He hath done all things well. He maketh both the deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak."