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FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 SERMONS 
 
 BV 
 
 GEORGE TYBOUT PURVES, D.D., LL.D. 
 
 LATE PASTOR OF THE FIFTH AVENUE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, NEW YORK 
 SOMETIME PROFESSOR IN PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 By BENJAMIN B. WARFIELD, D.D., LL.D. 
 
 PROFESSOR IN PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
 PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION 
 AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK 
 
 1902 
 
Copyright, 1902, by 
 
 THE TRUSTEES OF THE 
 
 PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION 
 AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK 
 
TO 
 
 ALL WHO LOVE THE GOSPEL 
 
 AND ESPECIALLY TO 
 
 THOSE WHO HAVE ENJOYED THE PRIVILEGE OF 
 HEARING IT FROM THE LIPS OF 
 
 THE GREAT PREACHER 
 
 SOME OF WHOSE SERMONS ARE HERE PRINTED 
 THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED 
 
 BY THOSE TO WHOM HAS BEEN ENTRUSTED ITS PREPARATION 
 FOR THE PRESS 
 
 ELIJAH RICHARDSON CRAVEN JOHN DE WITT 
 
 BENJAMIN BRECKINRIDGE WARFIELD 
 
 WILLIAM PARK ARMSTRONG Jr 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INTRODUCTION by B. B. Warfield, D.D., LL.D vii 
 
 I. THE DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE WORLD WITH 
 
 CHRIST I 
 
 He hath no form nor comeliness ; and when we shall 
 see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire 
 Him. — Isaiah liii. 2. 
 
 II. THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA 21 
 
 I am Alpha and Omega. — Revelation xxii. 13. 
 
 III. WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST? 43 
 
 What think ye of Christ? — Matt. xxii. 42. 
 
 IV. TOUCHING CHRIST 63 
 
 And besought Him that they might only touch the 
 hem of His garment : and as many as touched were 
 made perfectly whole. — Matthew xiv. 36. 
 
 V. BEHOLD YOUR GOD 85 
 
 O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into 
 the high mountain ; O Jerusalem, that bringest good tid- 
 ings, lift up thy voice with strength ; lift it up, be not 
 afraid ; say unto the cities of Judah, Behold your God ! 
 — Isaiah xl. 9. 
 
 VI. THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 105 
 
 Behold, He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber 
 nor sleep. — Psalm cxxi. 4. 
 
 VII. THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 123 
 
 But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw 
 him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, 
 and kissed him. — Luke xv. 20. 
 
 v 
 
VI CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 VIII. WORKING OUT SALVATION 141 
 
 Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling: 
 for it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do 
 of His good pleasure. — Philippians ii. 12, 13. 
 
 IX. UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 159 
 
 For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth 
 not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have 
 sufficient to finish it ? Lest haply, after he hath laid the 
 foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it 
 begin to mock him, saying, This man began to build, and 
 was not able to finish. ... So likewise, whosoever he 
 be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot 
 be My disciple. — Luke xiv. 2S-30, t>Z- 
 
 X. STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 177 
 
 Strength and beauty are in His sanctuary. — Psalm 
 xcvi. 6. 
 
 XI. THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 195 
 But they measuring themselves by themselves, and 
 comparing themselves among themselves, are not wise. 
 — 2 Corinthians x. 12. 
 
 XII. ENOCH 215 
 
 And Enoch walked with God : and he was not ; for 
 God took him. — Genesis v. 24. 
 
 XIII. THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 235 
 
 For we must needs die, and are as water spilt on the 
 ground, which cannot be gathered up again ; neither 
 doth God respect any person [or and God doth not cast 
 away a soul] : yet [but] doth He devise means, that His 
 banished be not expelled from Him. — 2 Samuel xiv. 14. 
 
 XIV. JOHN THE BAPTIST 253 
 
 I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, Make 
 straight the way of the Lord, as said the prophet Esaias. 
 — John i. 23. 
 
 He must increase, but I must decrease. — John iii. 30. 
 
CONTENTS Vll 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XV. SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 271 
 
 Andrew, Simon Feter's brother. — John i. 40. 
 
 XVI. A NOBLE LIFE 289 
 
 For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my 
 departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have 
 finished my course, I have kept the faith. — 2 Timothy 
 iv. 6, 7. 
 
 XVII. GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN ... 307 
 As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her 
 young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth 
 them on her wings : so the Lord alone did lead him, 
 and there was no strange god with him. — Deuteronomy 
 xxxii. II, 12. 
 
 XVIII. OUT OF THE DEPTHS 323 
 
 Out of the depths have I cried unto Thee, O Lord. 
 — Psalm cxxx. 1. 
 
 XIX. MANY MANSIONS 341 
 
 In my Father's house are many mansions : if it were 
 not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place 
 for you. — John xiv. 2. 
 
 XX. THE JUDGMENT 359 
 
 And the heavens shall declare His righteousness : for 
 God is judge Himself. — Psalm 1. 6. 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 The sermons printed in this volume have been taken, 
 practically at random, from the hundreds of manu- 
 script sermons left by Dr. Purves. They are thought 
 to represent fairly his ordinary preaching; or, as it 
 would be better to say, his ordinary preparation for 
 preaching. For Dr. Purves did not prepare these 
 manuscripts to be read or verbally recited in the 
 pulpit. His actual preaching was eminently free, rest- 
 ing on careful preparation, but depending much also 
 on the mental action of the moment. Part of his 
 preparation consisted, however, in writing out the 
 sermon which he purposed to deliver. This writing 
 was very rapidly done ; though it resulted in put- 
 ting a complete sermon on the paper, it can scarcely 
 be said to have put it there completely. The manu- 
 scripts are rough in the extreme, crowded with ab- 
 breviations, and bear obvious marks of having been 
 written merely to fix the preacher's thoughts. The 
 sermons drawn from them cannot pretend to be such 
 sermons as Dr. Purves preached. Much less can they 
 be supposed to be such sermons as he would have 
 been content permanently to fix in print. They repre- 
 sent rather Dr. Purves' sermons as they first presented 
 
X INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 themselves to his mind, — the first impressions, which 
 he afterwards adjusted, filled out, and enriched for 
 their oral presentation. He would have felt it neces- 
 sary very thoroughly to revise, or rather wholly to 
 rewrite them, before they were committed to type. 
 
 A certain injustice is therefore inevitably done Dr. 
 Purves' memory as a preacher by printing these ex- 
 temporaneous first-drafts of his sermons. Neither in 
 literary form, nor in homiletical structure, nor even, 
 perhaps, in religious teaching (if at least our mind is 
 set on proportion and precision of statement), can they 
 be held to represent fairly his remarkably clear, strong, 
 and rich preaching. Those who have been charged 
 with the duty of deciding whether to print or not to 
 print, have, in these circumstances, naturally felt much 
 hesitation. But Dr. Purves is gone from us ; the ser- 
 mons as he preached them, or as he would have 
 printed them, are beyond our reach. It seems a pity, 
 however, that his voice should be wholly stilled. Even 
 in the extemporaneous form in which they appear in 
 the manuscripts, these sermons seem to us remarkable 
 sermons, and if not fully representative of Dr. Purves' 
 powers, nervertheless not unworthy of his talents, and 
 quite capable, as vital presentations of the essentials 
 of Christian truth, not only of embalming his memory 
 worthily, but of serving further that Gospel to which 
 he enthusiastically gave his life, and for the advance- 
 ment of which he would have been more than willing 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE xi 
 
 to sacrifice much. We give this small selection of 
 them to the world with the conviction that there is a 
 blessing in them, which we should be sorry to with- 
 hold from the wider circles which have not enjoyed 
 the privilege of hearing the living preacher's voice. 
 
 It seems fitting to prefix some account of the life 
 and work out of which these sermons came. 
 
 George Tybout Purves was born in Philadelphia on 
 the 27th of September, 1852. As every Scotchman 
 would know from the name itself, the family was of 
 Berwickshire origin ; and Berwick men bearing it have 
 won a place for it both in the secular and in the re- 
 ligious history of Scotland. It was thence that about 
 the middle of the eighteenth century that John Purves 
 came, who, emigrating to America, and establishing 
 himself as a merchant, first at Bridgeton, N. J., and 
 then at Philadelphia, became the ancestor of Dr. 
 Purves. He was a man of convictions, having also 
 the courage of his convictions, for which — being 
 unfortunately a " Tory " — he was called upon to 
 suffer. In West Jersey he found a wife for himself 
 in a Huguenot maiden, bearing the great name of 
 Anne Marot. Their son, Alexander, married, in 
 Margaret Colesberry, a descendant of Swen Coles- 
 berg, schoolmaster in the Swedish colony at Wil- 
 mington. Thus, Dr. Purves' father, William Purves, 
 the issue of this marriage, was typically American in 
 the complicated mixture of good strains of blood in his 
 
xii INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 veins. His mother, Anna Kennedy, was of pure 
 North Irish descent, from County Antrim. But her 
 Presbytcrianism was no more deeply inbred than that 
 of her husband. John Purves had identified himself 
 from the first with the First Presbyterian Church of 
 Philadelphia, of which he was a trustee. His son, 
 Alexander, succeeded him in that office, and also sub- 
 sequently served the church in the higher duties of 
 the eldership ; and his son, William, after him adorned 
 the latter responsible office through many years. 
 Sprung from this Godly stock, Dr. Purves was born 
 into an ideal Christian household, which " abounded," 
 as one who, as its pastor, knew it well, describes it, 
 " with the sweetest Christian amenities and sanctities." 
 It was one of the felicities of his life that he was not 
 compelled to leave the goodly and Godly fellowship 
 of this home to obtain his education. His primary 
 schooling was received in the " classical institute " of 
 a notable schoolmaster, the Rev. Dr. John Wylie 
 Faires, "the last in the long succession of Scotch-Irish 
 schoolmasters to whom Philadelphia and the common- 
 wealth owe so much." He is described by one of 
 his teachers of this period as small and quiet, little ag- 
 gressive in his work, and perhaps not revealing his full 
 ability as it was afterward called forth by circum- 
 stances, fond withal of outdoor sports, especially of 
 cricket, in which he was proficient. " I remember 
 well," this teacher adds, " his striking face, his modest 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE xm 
 
 demeanor, his correct recitations, his eagerness to 
 learn." At the age of sixteen he entered the Univer- 
 sity of Pennsylvania, whence he was graduated in 1872. 
 His career in the university was a distinguished one. 
 He seems to have won nearly all the prizes in oratoiy 
 offered ; he was also a prize-man in philosophy, and, in 
 his freshman year, in Greek, though after that the classi- 
 cal prizes went to others. When his university course 
 was over, he devoted an additional year to the diligent 
 study of languages and general literature. Dr. Herrick 
 Johnson, his pastor at this time, describes him as al- 
 ready " giving sign and token of all the characteristics 
 that marked his subsequent career : ready, nimble, ver- 
 satile, scholarly, genial, and gentle, — a winsome fellow." 
 He had made a public profession of his faith just 
 after completing his fourteenth year (October 5, 1866); 
 and soon after graduating from the university, he 
 reached the conviction (autumn of 1872) that he 
 should give himself to the work of the ministry. In 
 the autumn of 1873, therefore, he entered the Theo- 
 logical Seminary at Princeton, and thus came into 
 relations with an institution with which, as student, 
 director, professor, and then director again, he retained 
 a close connection for the rest of his life. It is safe to 
 say that no more faithful pupil ever sat upon the hard 
 benches of the " Old Seminary " class-rooms. He neg- 
 lected nothing. He accomplished with distinction 
 every task that was set him. His easy mastery of the 
 
xiv INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 subjects embraced in the curriculum was, however, 
 only one of the ways in which he exhibited a vigor 
 and a richness of mental life that won from the first 
 the respect of his preceptors and the admiration 
 of his comrades. He was by common consent pro- 
 nounced the best preacher in his class ; and none will 
 contest his claim to have been the best of good com- 
 panions. The somewhat meagre opportunities for 
 extra-curriculum work then afforded by the seminary, 
 he took, of course, full advantage of. These included 
 rather extended studies in Shemitic Philology, under 
 the instruction of Dr. J. F. McCurdy, then John C. 
 Green Instructor in Hebrew. But they particularly 
 embraced continuous and loving study of the New 
 Testament, under the instruction of Dr. C. W. Hodge. 
 He was graduated from the seminary in 1876, but re- 
 mained in connection with it an additional year, en- 
 gaged in advanced work in Biblical Literature and 
 Biblical Theology under the direction of Drs. Caspar 
 Wistar Hodge and William Henry Green. 
 
 He profited, of course, from all the instruction he 
 received in the seminary, as only a mind like his, at 
 once docile and independent, receptive and fertile, could 
 profit. But the formative influence that was exerted on 
 him came from Dr. Caspar Wistar Hodge. What he 
 felt he owed to the inspiring personality and the 
 impressive teaching of this wide-minded scholar, and 
 the affectionate gratitude with which he bore him in 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE XV 
 
 life-long memory, he himself has told us, only last 
 spring, in the eulogy he pronounced, at the unveiling 
 of a tablet erected to the memory of his revered in- 
 structor, in the chapel of Princeton Seminary. Proba- 
 bly no other of his teachers exercised so moulding an 
 influence upon him ; although he always acknowledged 
 a debt also to the Rev. Dr. Charles Porterfield Krauth, 
 who had imbued his youthful mind with his philoso- 
 phy at the University of Pennsylvania. He gradually 
 drifted away from Dr. Krauth's characteristic tenets, 
 however, whereas Dr. Hodge's method and spirit 
 became ever more and more his own. 
 
 In the meantime Mr. Purves had been licensed by 
 the Presbytery of Philadelphia to preach the Gospel 
 (May 2, 1876), and immediately on completing his grad- 
 uate studies in the seminary, he was ordained by the 
 Presbytery of Chester (April 27, 1877), and installed 
 pastor of the little church at Wayne. Even in that 
 somewhat retired parish he quickly drew attention, 
 and accordingly, when the Broadway Avenue Church 
 in Baltimore was established (1880), it was he who 
 was called to put the new enterprise on its feet. This 
 he thoroughly did, growing meanwhile himself steadily 
 in pulpit power. After six years of labor in that 
 fruitful field he was fixed upon by the First Presby- 
 terian Church of Pittsburgh — whose pastor, the Rev. 
 Sylvester F. Scovel, had been taken from it, in 1883, 
 to become President of Wooster University — as the 
 
 
 
XVI INTR OD UCTOR Y NO TE 
 
 man it needed to carry forward its high traditions and 
 compact its energies. In this pastorate, as one of the 
 closest and most sympathetic observers of his work 
 has put it, he achieved " one of the triumphs of 
 the modern ministry." He " showed that even in a 
 ' down-town ' church scholarship can do more than 
 sensationalism, and that unfeigned devotion to the 
 simple Gospel is the only true basis for genuine pulpit 
 power. He gathered into his audience all classes 
 and conditions, gentle and simple, wise and unwise, 
 who sat at his feet and heard his words with delight, 
 and were moved to holy living by the vital power 
 of the Word as he preached it." 
 
 " Meanwhile," continues the same writer, " he was 
 busy in his study, ever the secret spring that fed his 
 pulpit." During all these years of successful pulpit 
 work he had, in fact, never intermitted his enthusiastic 
 study of the New Testament and related branches of 
 theological investigation. A specimen of his schol- 
 arly attainments was now given to the world in his 
 course of " Stone Lectures," delivered at Princeton 
 Seminary in the autumn of 1888, and shortly after- 
 ward published in a goodly volume. Other publi- 
 cations followed in the Reviews, and it soon became 
 quite clear that a light of learning had been lifted up 
 whose shining could not be hid. The seminaries 
 began to turn longing eyes toward him. He was 
 sought by more than one of them for more than one 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE XV11 
 
 chair of instruction. Princeton Seminary endeavored 
 in vain to secure him for its chair of Church History. 
 During a vacancy in the chair of Dogmatic Theology 
 at the Western Seminary at Allegheny, he actually 
 taught that branch of theology throughout a whole 
 session to delighted classes ; and both that seminary 
 and McCormick Seminary would fain have secured 
 him for that chair. But his heart was fixed in its 
 devotion to the critical study of the New Testament. 
 And at length, in 1892, on the death of his beloved 
 instructor in this department, he was prevailed upon 
 to take up the work that had fallen from Dr. Hodge's 
 hands. Thus he became Professor of New Testament 
 Literature and Exegesis in Princeton Seminary. 
 
 To the work of this chair he brought not only 
 eminent general abilities and a remarkable aftd- special 
 aptitude, but a trained exegetical tact and a large 
 store of accumulated knowledge. He brought also an 
 unbounded energy and zeal, and a depth of religious 
 sentiment which rendered every word of the New Tes- 
 tament precious to him, and made its exposition and 
 enforcement his greatest delight. It is using wholly 
 inadequate language to speak of his eight years of 
 instruction in this chair as successful. His instruction 
 was enthusiastically given and enthusiastically re- 
 ceived. He impressed his pupils profoundly. For 
 many years to come the Church will be richer in men 
 who know and love the New Testament for these years 
 
 
XVI ll INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 of his work in the seminary. In these pupils he will 
 live anew as they expound the Scriptures in the spirit 
 which they have learned from him. 
 
 His class-room work, however, did not suffice him. 
 His burning zeal in the communication of his treasures 
 of divine knowledge led him ever to seek and to find 
 other channels of expression. He wrote much for the 
 religious press ; he even became for a time a regular 
 contributor to one of our church papers. He was in 
 great demand as a public lecturer, and made frequent 
 and long journeys to deliver either a single address or 
 a course of lectures. Even this was not enough. He 
 was soon found preaching regularly every Sabbath 
 evening in one of the Princeton churches, with an 
 especial view to the needs of the unevangelized classes, 
 and particularly of the young men gathered so numer- 
 ously in this university town. Just as while he was 
 in the pastorate he was besieged by the seminaries, 
 seeking to obtain his gifts and learning for their chairs 
 of instruction ; so, now, when he was at last in the 
 seminary, he was besieged by the churches, seeking to 
 obtain his demonstrated ability and tried skill for their 
 pulpits. Numerous calls came to him from the out- 
 standing churches of the land; back to Pittsburgh, to 
 Baltimore, to Philadelphia, to New York. Eveiy one 
 of them tempted him. He loved to preach and was 
 conscious of the power that went out from him. But 
 he contented himself for the time with becoming 
 
INTRODl VTOR ) ' NO TE XIX 
 
 stated-supply to the First Presbyterian Church of 
 Princeton (1897), though this soon ripened into his 
 settlement as regular pastor of that church (1899). 
 
 He put his shoulders under his double burden with 
 an enthusiasm that knew no measure. An assistant 
 was given him in the church ; an assistant was given 
 him in the seminary. But he appeared to be con- 
 cerned not so much to shift some of his work to them, 
 as to invent enough additional work in the congrega- 
 tion and seminary to keep them also busy. He him- 
 self responded to the demands made on him, and 
 expanded to ever greater power. It was during his 
 Princeton pastorate, for example, that he developed 
 his full gifts as a pastor. Perhaps at the outset of 
 his career it was the intellectual side of his work 
 that was most prominent; it was especially in the 
 pulpit that he made full proof of his ministry. As his 
 ministry ripened to its close, however, he had become 
 a model pastor, absolutely tireless, and remarkably 
 effective in his infinitely sympathetic personal inter- 
 course with his people. These superabounding labors 
 proved, of course, too much for his strength, sapped, 
 as it now proved to be, by the inroads of a fatal dis- 
 ease. So, in the spring of 1900, he laid down his 
 work in Princeton, and became pastor of the Fifth 
 Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York, the fourth 
 in that series of remarkable pastors by which the his- 
 tory of that church during the last half century has 
 

 xx INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 been distinguished — James W. Alexander, Nathan L. 
 Rice, John Hall, and George T. Purves. This was, 
 in a sense, the fitting culmination of his life. But less 
 than eighteen months were granted him for the culti- 
 vation of this new field before he " fell on sleep," 
 having literally worn himself out in a service of love. 
 
 It is doubtless idle to ask whether Dr. Purves was 
 more the preacher or more the scholar. The greater 
 portion of his active life was passed in the pulpit, and 
 it will not be strange if he is longer remembered as 
 one of the most impressive preachers of his day. In 
 truth, however, the two things cannot be separated 
 in his case. He was never more the profoundly in- 
 structed scholar than when he stood in the pulpit : he 
 was never more the preacher of righteousness than 
 when he sat in the class-room. He certainly was not 
 a scholastic preacher ; and he certainly was not what 
 is called a " homiletical " teacher. He was too ripe a 
 scholar to take the atmosphere of the study into the 
 pulpit with him ; he was too skilled in the art of 
 religious impression to carry the pulpit tone into the 
 class-room. But, on the other hand, the whole man, 
 with all his gifts and graces, was present wherever he 
 went ; and as he was one of the most reverential of 
 teachers, so was he habitually one of the most theo- 
 logical of preachers. 
 
 It was not merely that he had thought himself 
 through theologically, and held firmly to a devel- 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE XXI 
 
 opecl theological system which underlay and sustained 
 and gave body to all his preaching. This was emi- 
 nently true of him ; and it went far to account for 
 the consistency, strength, and edifying effect of his 
 pulpit ministrations. But he did not merely preach 
 out of his theology; he preached his theology. He 
 constantly took a theological topic for his subject, 
 and developed it with notable precision and fullness. 
 As he preached his theology, so also he preached his 
 " criticism." The boldness with which he introduced 
 into his sermons the results, and, on the positive side, 
 even the processes of his critical studies, was equalled 
 only by the skill with which he bent it all to serve a 
 religious end. The staple of his preaching may be, 
 perhaps, best described as Biblico-theological. His col- 
 league, Dr. John DeWitt, has admirably expressed it 
 by calling his sermons " didactic orations of which the 
 substance was yielded by studies in Biblical theology." 
 But so skillful was he in truly popular exposition, so 
 free was he from all parade of learning, so vitalized 
 was all he said with experimental religion, so earnestly 
 and simply were the truths he presented pressed home 
 to the heart and conscience, that only the most reflect- 
 ing of his hearers quite realized that they were being 
 as carefully " indoctrinated " as they were being power- 
 fully aroused to religious emotion and action. 
 
 The most striking quality of his delivery was its 
 vigor, — its nervous expenditure. He preached all 
 
xxil INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 over. lie threw a tremendous energy of bodily action 
 into what he said, gesturing not with forethought and 
 calculated effect, but as if the force of his conviction 
 and his earnestness of purpose must find exit in some- 
 thing more than words. His spoken style was correct, 
 clear, and forcible. He was no phrase-maker; he did 
 not deal in antitheses, assonances, colloquialisms ; he 
 used illustrations sparingly. He had no broken-sen- 
 tences ; his periods were rounded, balanced, and pellu- 
 cidly clear; he never framed an unintelligible, weak, or 
 unvitalized sentence. He knew what he wished to 
 say, and he knew how to say it so that it went straight 
 from his lips to the intellects, hearts, and consciences 
 of his hearers. His sermons were always systemat- 
 ically and compactly organized and made a unitary 
 impression. His aim in preaching was obviously not 
 to delight but to instruct, not to give pleasure but 
 guidance ; and he had his reward. He was not a revi- 
 valist — he was rather a master-builder. His churches 
 grew steadily and solidly under his hands, and became 
 compacted into thoroughly vitalized organisms. To 
 this result no doubt the faithfulness of his pastoral 
 care contributed ; but much must be attributed also to 
 the faithfulness and power of his preaching. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. George E. Horr, of Boston, happened 
 to hear Dr. Purves at a communion service in the Fifth 
 Avenue Church, New York, just as he was about to 
 assume that pastorate ; and the visitor wrote out the 
 
INTRl WUCTOR Y NOTE xxiii 
 
 impression he carried away with him and printed it in 
 his paper, The Watchman (March i, 1900). It will 
 perhaps give us a more vivid picture of Dr. Purves in 
 the pulpit than we can easily obtain elsewhere. " Dr. 
 Purves," he writes, " is a stocky man, a little below the 
 medium height, with a clear, persuasive, penetrating 
 voice. The peculiar quality of his preaching is its com- 
 bination of modernness and conservative orthodoxy. 
 His topic was ' The Precious Blood of Christ.' His lan- 
 guage was clear, direct, and sinewy ; his analysis of his 
 proposition singularly convincing and effective, and the 
 discourse moved strongly, like an army, from point to 
 point, leaving the impression that the blood of the 
 Redeemer was infinitely worthful. But the assump- 
 tions of the discourse were as weighty as its argument. 
 Dr. Purves did not apologize for the Bible nor seek to 
 show that its statements are true. He assumed their 
 truth, and some of the most conclusive and effective 
 passages in the sermon were those in which he ap- 
 pealed to the Word of God in confirmation of his 
 statements. He quotes the Scriptures with accuracy 
 and pertinence, though he seems to discard entirely 
 the help of notes." 
 
 Cut off as he was in the midst of his days, Dr. 
 Purves has left behind him no such literary product 
 as will convey to posterity an adequate measure of his 
 powers. He served his own generation. Outside of 
 the pulpit and the class-room, it was in numerous 
 
xxiv INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 addresses and equally numerous "flying leaves" of 
 newspaper articles that he expended his strength. It 
 is easy to value these too lightly. We are, perhaps, 
 prone to overestimate the relative importance of 
 books : Litera scripta manei. But the " winged word " 
 of speech moves the world ; and it is better, after all, 
 to form characters than to compile volumes. Dr. 
 Purvcs seems to have thought so ; and he gave himself 
 freely, or rather prodigally, to the oral communication 
 of his thought. The subjects on which he spoke, the 
 audiences which he addressed, were of the most varied 
 kinds. Few of these addresses have found their way 
 into print. But each has had its own effect on human 
 lives. 
 
 He published but two books. One of these has 
 already been mentioned — his admirable " Stone Lec- 
 tures," on The Testimony of Justin Martyr to Early 
 Christianity, published in 1889. By its side he placed, 
 in the closing days of his professorship at Princeton, 
 his equally admirable hand-book on The Apostolic Age 
 (1900). Both books are thoroughly characteristic of 
 Dr. Purves : careful, painstaking, absolutely honest 
 pieces of work, presented in an unambitious, work- 
 manlike style. In reviewing the former book, Liide- 
 mann, though rejecting Dr. Purves' whole point of 
 view, yet is constrained to confess that his work 
 exhibits " thorough knowledge," and proceeds by 
 means of " an exact presentation of the data — suppress- 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE XXV 
 
 ing nothing, concealing nothing." This is worth 
 adverting to, as it reveals a fundamental trait of Dr. 
 Purves' mind. His was above everything else a fair 
 mind, an honest mind. He might sometimes appear 
 too cautious in reaching and announcing conclusions ; 
 never too little so. 
 
 In a notable address, which he delivered at the 
 Commencement Exercises of Emporia College in 
 1894, on The Value of the Highest Culture, he let 
 drop a phrase which fairly enunciates the note of 
 all his work. "Such culture," he says, "induces 
 caution and modesty in reaching conclusions." There 
 speaks Dr. Purves' scientific conscience, and there we 
 have in a few words the primary trait of his scientific 
 life. He sedulously sought to have all the facts be- 
 fore him before forming an opinion. Perhaps he some- 
 times found it difficult to recognize the truth until he 
 could see it whole. But he spared no pains in seeking 
 to see it whole. And when he did come to see it, he 
 clung to it with the strength of conviction naturally 
 induced by the consciousness that he had attained 
 it by solid processes of investigation and thought. 
 
 It is worth while to observe that both of Dr. Purves' 
 published works are historical studies, and historical 
 studies based on minute investigation and presented 
 with masterly command of the material. The same 
 historical interest is apparent also in his minor pub- 
 lications. Nevertheless, this was not his primary in- 
 
xxvi INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 terest His engagement with the historical aspects of 
 New Testament problems was the effect partly of his 
 unquenchable zeal for the exploration of every side 
 of New Testament study, but chiefly of the exigen- 
 cies of the situation. His historical investigations 
 were largely incidental to apologetical ends. The 
 apologetical motive is indeed explicitly put forward in 
 nearly all of his historical studies. Nevertheless, not 
 even in it can we find the real spring of his zeal. If 
 he was interested in history for its apologetical value, 
 he was interested in apologetics not for its own sake, 
 but for the sake of the precious truth which it guarded. 
 His primary interest in the New Testament was, in a 
 word, doctrinal ; and he was most in his element when 
 he was investigating its treasures of truth. 
 
 He has unfortunately left us very few Biblico-theo- 
 logical discissions ; but what he has left us are very 
 sane and very valuable. Those who knew him well 
 found an intense interest in watching the slow but 
 steady and solid growth in his mind of a complete 
 doctrinal system, consciously drawn by him from the 
 New Testament, and built up step by step only as in 
 the course of time he was enabled to investigate thor- 
 oughly its entire reach of teaching. To those who 
 knew him well, the fact that the system to which he 
 thus attained was that which is commonly known 
 under the name of Federalistic Calvinism, although he 
 had originally no predilection for this mode of con- 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE xxvn 
 
 ceiving evangelical truth, but was, on the contrary, 
 somewhat prejudiced against it, afforded notable re- 
 newed evidence of the real rooting of this system in 
 the teaching of the New Testament. 
 
 The whole mass of Dr. Purves' published scientific 
 work is not large. By the side of his two books there 
 are only five or six extended Review articles to be 
 placed. These, in the order of time of publication, 
 bear the following titles: "The Influence of Paganism 
 on Post- Apostolic Christianity" {Presbyterian Review, 
 1888); "Simon Peter in the School of Christ" {Presby- 
 terian and Reformed Review, 1891); "St. Paul and 
 Inspiration" {Presbyterian and Reformed Review, 1893); 
 "The Incarnation Biblically Considered" (in Christ 
 and the Chureh,Reve\\, 1894); "The Formation of the 
 New Testament" {Presbyterian and Reformed Review, 
 1895); "The Witness of Apostolic Literature to Apos- 
 tolic History" {Presbyterian and Reformed Review, 
 1898); "The Unity of Second Corinthians" {The 
 Union Seminary Magazine, 1900). Quite a series of 
 articles were contributed by him also to two recent 
 Dictionaries of the Bible, — that edited by Dr. James 
 Hastings and published by T. & T. Clark, and that 
 edited by Dr. John D. Davis and published by the 
 Presbyterian Board of Publication. At the time of 
 his death he was under appointment for two courses 
 of lectures, one to be delivered at Harvard University 
 and one at Princeton Seminary; and he had it in mind 
 
xxviii INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 to work up some of his accumulations of scientific 
 material into these. He had also long cherished a 
 design to prepare and publish a treatise on the Apostle 
 Peter, of a type somewhat like Conybeare and How- 
 son's well-known work on Paul. We are the poorer 
 that these projected works were never published. 
 
 No account of Dr. Purves' life would be complete 
 which neglected to note his faithfulness in the dis- 
 charge of the duties that came to him as a presbyter 
 in an organized Church. He was as good a presbyter 
 as he was a pastor, diligent in all the work of the 
 presbytery. He was four times delegated to represent 
 his presbytery in the General Assembly (1884, 1889, 
 1896, 1 901). Those were stirring years in ecclesiastical 
 annals, in which it was no sinecure to serve the Church 
 as a bishop in council. It must suffice here to say 
 that Dr. Purves bore his full part in the labors and 
 the debates of the body, and no voice was more 
 potent in its councils. Special prominence was given 
 him at the Assemby of 190 1 by his nomination for the 
 moderatorship ; and the affection and esteem in which 
 he was held by the house was exhibited not only by 
 the large vote cast for him in this contest, but also 
 by the reception given him whenever he rose in his 
 place to address the house. 
 
 He was one of the representatives of his Church 
 at the Seventh Council of the " Alliance of the 
 Reformed Churches holding the Presbyterian Sys- 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE XXIX 
 
 tern," sitting at Washington in 1899. From 1888 
 to 1S92 he was a member of the Board of Missions 
 for Freedmen, and from 1900 to his death, of 
 the Board of Home Missions. He was appointed 
 by the Assembly of 1 90 1 a member of a special 
 ad interim committee charged with the duty of stimu- 
 lating the churches in evangelistic work, with the 
 considering of such work and its conduct in relation 
 to the churches : and into the labors of this com- 
 mittee he was throwing himself with great spirit when 
 death overtook him. It would not be possible to 
 record here, however, all the appointments with which 
 he was entrusted. Let it be enough to say that it was 
 the delight of the Church to honor him with positions 
 of trust and his delight to respond by a most dis- 
 tinguished service to the calls so made upon him. 
 
 Dr. Purves' private life was one of exceptional 
 beauty. There was something in his address that was 
 peculiarly charming : a manifest sincerity, willing self- 
 effacement, and unmistakable sympathy. This gave a 
 certain personal quality to all his intercourse which 
 begot in those with whom he came in contact a re- 
 sponse in kind. He made many and close friends. 
 The simple annals of a diligent scholar and tireless 
 pastor were his, during all the faithfully improved 
 years in which he grew steadily, like a cedar, straight 
 upward, in perfect quiet, and with no consciousness of 
 the wide shadow he was castine about him. He was 
 
XXX INTR OD UCTOR Y NO TE 
 
 just completing his forty-ninth year when he died, in 
 New York, on the 24th of September, 1901, deprived, 
 as we cannot but sadly say to ourselves, of the residue 
 of his days. They were forty-nine strenuous years 
 he had lived. It would be cruel for us to begrudge 
 him at last his well-earned rest. 
 
 Benjamin B. Warfield. 
 Princeton, May 1, 1902. 
 
FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 THE DISAPPOINTMENT OF THE WORLD "WITH CHRIST 
 
 " He hath no form nor comeliness ; and when we shall see Him, there 
 is no beauty that we should desire Him." — Isaiah liii. 2. 
 
 Thus Isaiah described beforehand the disappoint- 
 ment which the world would feel with the Messiah. 
 There should be no doubt that the prophet did refer 
 to the Messiah. It is quite probable, indeed, that his 
 description was suggested by the shame and humilia- 
 tion of Israel's captivity, which also he foresaw; and 
 elsewhere the "Servant of Jehovah" often denotes 
 the people of Israel themselves. But in this chapter 
 the figure of Israel resolves itself into its ideal, and 
 that was realized only in its Messianic Head. Of Him 
 is affirmed a work of expiation which on Biblical prin- 
 ciples cannot be attributed to any race or any other 
 individual. While, therefore, the woes of the Babylo- 
 nian captivity, with its utter defacement of the beauty 
 and glory of Israel, may have given occasion to the 
 vision which Isaiah received of the unutterable lowli- 
 ness of the Christ, there should be no question that to 
 the Christ his sight was directed in this passage, and to 
 
2 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Him his words referred. In strange contrast with the 
 prophecies of glory, and with the inspired dreams of 
 royal majesty and conquering power, there now ap- 
 peared the spectacle of One despised and rejected of 
 men ; of One who would not appeal to the admiration 
 of mankind ; of One whom the world would not rank 
 among her great and noble; of One who would bear 
 the derision of mankind and the very curse of God. 
 
 And as this was plainly the prophet's thought, so is 
 it well known that his words served, when the Christ 
 did appear, to explain to His disciples the mystery of 
 their Master's lowliness and shame. When the time 
 came for a Nazarene carpenter and crucified Galilean 
 to be proclaimed to Israel and the world as God's 
 Messiah, the Spirit who had inspired Isaiah used his 
 language both to establish the faith of the disciples 
 and to lead them into the fullness of the truth. Isaiah 
 furnished one of the principal keys by which apostolic 
 thought opened the door of truth and obtained its 
 own precious message to mankind. It was by the term 
 " Servant of Jehovah " that Jesus was proclaimed as 
 Messiah by Peter after Pentecost (Acts iii. 13, R.V.) 
 When Matthew relates the healing miracles of 
 Jesus, he points out that Isaiah had already said 
 of Him, " Himself bore our iniquities and carried 
 our sicknesses" (ix. 17). When John describes the 
 obstinacy of Jewish unbelief, he reminds us that 
 Isaiah had asked, " Who hath believed our report 
 
DISATrOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST 3 
 
 and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed " 
 (xii. 38) ? The same is done by Paul in the Epistle 
 to the Romans (x. 16). Jesus himself had pointed 
 His disciples to this prophecy when, after the Trans- 
 figuration, He reminded them that " it is written of 
 the Son of Man that He must suffer many things and 
 be set at naught" (Mark ix. 12). Peter, in his First 
 Epistle (ii. 23, 24), weaves Isaiah's words with his 
 own when describing the silent and patient Sufferer, 
 "who, when He was reviled, reviled not again; who 
 Plis own self bare our sins in His own body on the 
 tree; by whose stripes we were healed." The use of 
 the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah is even more explicit 
 and frequent in the early Christian literature of the 
 post-apostolic age. We evidently have in it a divinely 
 provided interpretation by which apostolic as well as 
 uninspired thought was enabled to explain the fact of 
 the Lord's humiliation, and by which the disciples were 
 strengthened against all doubt as they pointed the 
 world to such an improbable Messiah, to such an 
 uncrowned King. 
 
 Both the prophet's words and the apostolic use of 
 them thus bring before us the fact of the disappoint- 
 ment which the world naturally feels with Jesus. 
 Judged by the standards of common glory and great- 
 ness, He is "without form and comeliness." This is 
 the way in which the Bible presents Him. And yet 
 I am afraid that this truth is often obscured at the 
 
4 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 present time. Around the name of Jesus a new glory- 
 has gathered. The breaking of the homely vase has 
 filled the world with the fragrance of the heavenly 
 ointment that was within. Under His own influence, 
 men have come to look with more appreciation at His 
 lowliness and to glorify His sufferings. But this is too 
 often done by applying to Him the world's standard 
 of greatness, and by attempting to show that, even 
 when thus judged, He is not " without form and come- 
 liness." In this way the measurement is changed; 
 and there often follows an attempt to vindicate His 
 right to man's allegiance because He is the first among 
 many masters. This is an example of the wave of 
 naturalism which is sweeping over Christian thought, 
 and which decorates with its purple cloak the suffering 
 Christ Himself. 
 
 It is not without reason, therefore, that we emphasize 
 the disappointment which the natural mind must ever 
 feel with the Christ of the Bible. Let me call your 
 attention to the fact itself, and then to its significance. 
 
 First, then, the fact. It appears most obviously 
 in the disappointment of the natural mind with the 
 outward events of Christ's career on earth. So was it 
 at the beginning, even to the point of ridicule. He did 
 not appear with the common insignia of royalty. He 
 was known, not even as a Bethlehemite, but as a Naz- 
 arene. His career was connected with no attempt at 
 political uprising, nor did He appeal to the common 
 
DISAPPOINTMENT OF WOK ID WITH CHRIST 5 
 
 ambitions of His people. He was a simple preacher of 
 peace and righteousness. He was not a man of the 
 aristocracy, either social or intellectual. He was a 
 peasant and the friend of publicans. His life was spent 
 among the inglorious poor. At last He was over- 
 whelmed by His enemies and crucified, as a malefactor, 
 between two robbers. It was a difficult story to make 
 attractive to the natural mind. To the Jew, it was a 
 stumbling-block, and to the Greek, foolishness. The 
 wonder is that, with so little to appeal to man's ordi- 
 nary ideals of greatness and beauty, the messengers of 
 the Crucified should have obtained any audience at all. 
 
 But it may be said that the world has now learned 
 its mistake, and has come to appreciate the real beauty 
 of the story of Jesus. Does not even scepticism pay 
 tribute to Him, and acknowledge that His poverty and 
 shame are more honorable than wealth and crowns ? 
 In this matter it is necessary for us carefully to dis- 
 criminate. 
 
 It is true that the power of Jesus in human history 
 has thrown a glamour over the unlovely events of His 
 career ; so that they have become interesting to many 
 who would not naturally take any interest in them 
 whatever. We all go back to the beginnings of a 
 great man's life, and invest them, however humble, 
 with historical sacredness. The log-cabin in which a 
 President was born interests us more than if it were a 
 stately mansion, just because of its contrast with what 
 
6 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 might have been expected. But this is only historical 
 interest. It does not mean in the least that the cabin 
 is thought beautiful or that we should like to live in 
 such a dwelling. 
 
 Then, too, art has made the life of Jesus the theme 
 of its mighty skill. It has invested with the halo of 
 its fine imagination the homely manger and the peasant 
 mother, the simple teacher and the Galilaean fisher- 
 man, the weeping figure in Gethsemane and the bleed- 
 ing figure on the cross. This has had the effect of 
 making these scenes familiar and beloved. The world 
 glories in the triumphs of its art. Whatever art has 
 touched is made an object of veneration. Its treat- 
 ment of the life of Christ has idealized the Christ. 
 Even realistic art cannot help glorifying such a sub- 
 ject. In consequence of this, the story of Jesus has 
 become one of the world's treasures with which the 
 maddest unbelief would not be willing to part. 
 
 And then modern sentiment, aside from art and the 
 reflex influence of Christianity on the life of the world, 
 has made the life of Jesus seem more beautiful than it 
 did in ancient times. We do not now care much for 
 the trappings of royalty. Labor has become honor- 
 able. The common people have asserted their rights. 
 The modern world is democratic. Self-sacrifice itself 
 is thought more beautiful than conquest. Men's ideals 
 have partly changed under the influence of Christianity. 
 The modern world is rather glad to be told that its 
 
DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST "J 
 
 God was a carpenter. It is more conscious of its own 
 wrongs than of its duties, and therefore is not averse 
 to knowing that the Master was as unjustly treated as 
 it feels itself to be. 
 
 Thus from various causes the offensiveness of Christ's 
 career has apparently been removed, and the tempta- 
 tion is strong to suppose that the appearance is real. 
 There is no more ridicule heaped upon Him. His 
 humiliation would rather seem to be His greatest glory. 
 But in fact this rehabilitation of Jesus is quite deceptive. 
 
 It is still true that to the natural mind the facts 
 themselves are hard and unlovely. It was a peasant's 
 life, after all. It was wholly without ornament or am- 
 bitious aspiration or martial prowess. It was a self- 
 repressing life. It is a story of hunger, pain, persecution, 
 and death ; and these become beautiful to the world 
 only when they are invested with romantic associ- 
 ations. Their beauty lies in what we believe to have 
 been before and after and behind them. But as the 
 bare facts were first proclaimed to an unprepared 
 world, they excited contempt ; and if you tell them 
 to-day to unprepared heathenism, they will be likely to 
 meet with the same reception. 
 
 Nor do they correspond with the actual ideals of the 
 natural mind, even when the latter has been affected by 
 Christianity. Who would be so bold as to affirm that 
 men really admire meekness, self-crucifixion, gentle- 
 ness, and patience ? Or if a measure of admiration for 
 
8 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 these virtues be forced from some by the power of 
 Christian education, who would maintain that they are 
 the real ideals of the modern any more than of the 
 ancient world ? The common life of mankind un- 
 happily would belie such an assertion. The world in 
 its heart sees no beauty in them, and turns with joy 
 from the gloomy contemplation of such things to the 
 glittering prizes which its self-love and ambition see. 
 
 And to crown it all, when the lowly, suffering Christ 
 is presented as the only Saviour ; when the world is 
 summoned to cast away all its pride and trust for sal- 
 vation to His merits alone; the old offensiveness returns 
 in all its power. This is no more a welcome message 
 now than it was in the days of Paul. To the natural 
 mind, it is foolishness. Salvation must be gained, if at 
 all, by ourselves. Reason is the true guide and the 
 human will the saving power. We may invest the 
 Nazarene's life with all the glamour which art senti- 
 ment and, historical association can give ; we may 
 appeal with all eloquence to Him as the true ideal of 
 character over against the false ; but when we go 
 farther and present the Nazarene as the only one who 
 is able to save, His life as our righteousness, His 
 death as our sacrifice, then the natural mind turns 
 away, as of old, with open or concealed denial. 
 
 If, then, we turn from the outward events of Christ's 
 career to consider Him as a teacher, how does He fare 
 in the estimate of the natural mind ? In this aspect 
 
DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST 9 
 
 He comes into comparison with the other famous in- 
 structors of humanity. When judged as they are, is 
 He likely to be rated as high as they ? Of course, it 
 is admitted on all sides that He was a great teacher. 
 All are forced to concede this. But the reverence of 
 the natural mind for Him even as a teacher is more a 
 concession to tradition than a real veneration. When 
 we bring Him into comparison with others, and if we 
 apply to Him the tests by which the admission of their 
 greatness is secured, the result, from the world's point 
 of view, is again disappointing. 
 
 For one thing, Jesus was not an author. He made 
 no contribution to the world's literature. His dis- 
 ciples did under His influence, but He himself did not. 
 In this indeed He was like Socrates ; but the fact is 
 more significant than may at first appear. It indicates 
 that He did not aspire after intellectual renown. He did 
 not aim at winning the world by intellectual methods. 
 He did not value beauty of literary form. He was no 
 poet like David. He left no written code of laws 
 like Moses. He composed no history. Unlike even 
 the prophets and apostles, He did not commit His in- 
 structions to paper in order to secure their perpetu- 
 ation or to move mankind by the genius of His 
 thought. By failing to do this, He deliberately de- 
 prived himself of one of the chief instruments by 
 which other teachers have won a place among the 
 leaders of mankind. 
 
IO FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Still further, His method of teaching was not philo- 
 sophical. The great thinkers of the world have usually 
 won fame more by the processes of their thought than 
 by its results. It is the process of thought which 
 makes the impression of intellectual power. Herein 
 lay the power of Socrates, though he left no literary 
 remains. The great philosophers have been famous 
 mainly for their methods of investigation and instruc- 
 tion. Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Kant, are far more 
 influential because of the processes of philosophic 
 thought for which they respectively stand, than for the 
 particular results of thought to which they attained. 
 It is the process which makes their reputation as 
 philosophers : and before the intellect in operation the 
 world always has been ready to bow. 
 
 But Christ's teaching is quite devoid of philosophical 
 method. It is rather the simple affirmation of truth 
 by one who claimed to be in authority. Such is the 
 express testimony of those who heard Him, and it is 
 confirmed by the Gospel reports. He had none of the 
 subtle exegesis of the rabbis, none of the nobler dialec- 
 tics of the Greeks. He does not impress us at all as a 
 great thinker; because He gives no evidence of either 
 effort or process of thought. He does not belong to 
 the class of intellectual giants, because He did not 
 philosophize, but simply bore His witness. If it be 
 said that this is because He was an Oriental, we reply 
 that Orientals have not been the intellectual leaders 
 
DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST II 
 
 of the world. But He did not stand comparison, 
 from their own point of view, with the rabbis of 
 His own nation. It is quite impossible to give Him 
 the same honor which belongs to the other teachers 
 of the world. 
 
 It is still more important to observe in this con- 
 nection that Jesus did not deal, as a teacher, with those 
 subjects which have commonly been thought to form 
 the natural sphere of intellectual genius. He did not 
 discuss the nature of the world, or of the soul, or of 
 absolute being. He did not lead men into the labora- 
 tory of nature. He did not deal with metaphysics. 
 He did not solve the mystery of evil. He gave utter- 
 ance to no flights of imagination. He did not even 
 present religious truth in a systematized form. On all 
 these subjects His person and His teaching throw, 
 for the Christian, infinite light. But He was not what 
 the world calls a philosopher or a poet in respect to 
 the method of His teaching. He belongs to a different 
 class. His type is the prophet ; and while in the end 
 the world may acknowledge the prophet's mission, it 
 does not class him so high as the philosopher. 
 
 Thus when we apply to Christ the standards by 
 which other men, great in the realm of intellect, have 
 been measured, the world finds Him wanting. He 
 suffers in this respect even by comparison with some 
 of His disciples. The final proof of it is that the world, 
 in fact, does not reckon Him in the list of its intel- 
 
12 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 lcctual leaders. You do not find His name, except 
 incidentally, in the histories of philosophy or literature. 
 And this judgment of Him is correct. He was not 
 what is commonly called a great thinker; He was 
 incarnate thought. He was not a seeker after truth ; 
 He was truth itself. When men seek in Him for the 
 glory of intellectual genius, as this is elsewhere esti- 
 mated, they simply do not find its marks. 
 
 Still again, when the natural mind approaches Jesus 
 as a moral teacher — the sphere in which He is pre- 
 eminent — He is still in many respects not such as 
 the world thinks such a teacher ought to be. For 
 He did not do the things which most other teachers 
 of morality have sought to do, and for doing which 
 praise is accorded to them. For example, He made 
 no effort to set right the crying evils of the society 
 of His day. There were many of these : violent 
 military oppression ; the enforced slavery of thousands ; 
 the tyranny of the wealthy few over the pauper mul- 
 titudes. But Jesus did not lift up His voice against 
 slavery, or war, or class oppression. He inveighed 
 indeed against trust in riches, but He did so from the 
 point of view of the individual. He did not deal with 
 political or economic questions. He was not so much 
 of a reformer as John the Baptist was. Why, men 
 ask, did He not explicitly solve for the world the 
 grievances which have lain so heavily upon human life 
 concerning its social condition ? Have not these 
 
DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST 1 3 
 
 grievances become only the more deeply felt as the 
 spirit of Christianity has spread? Why, then, did not 
 the author of Christianity deal with them at the first? 
 
 Of course, we who are His followers, now know 
 that His method was the wisest. Immediate social 
 reconstruction would have prevented the spread of 
 those ethical principles by which alone such recon- 
 struction has been at all possible. But the fact 
 remains that in the world's estimate Jesus is, even 
 as a moral teacher, a disappointment. Many an earnest 
 reformer has wished that Jesus had not practiced so 
 much reserve on these subjects. Others, more im- 
 petuous, have even declaimed against Him in this very 
 sphere. To much of modern humanitarianism does 
 He seem to come far short of what the ideal saviour 
 of society ought to be. When we face the bitter, 
 furious, practical grievances of modern social life with 
 the Sermon on the Mount, the Golden Rule, and the 
 doctrine of Self-sacrifice, how little welcome has the 
 natural mind for these remedies ! There is no beauty 
 in them. 
 
 Thus, I think, the effort to show the greatness and 
 beauty of Christ by means of those considerations by 
 which greatness and beauty are elsewhere estimated 
 inevitably fails. The fact is one that ought not to be 
 concealed. To the natural mind, under the power of 
 self-love, what beauty is there in poverty, humility, 
 renunciation, suffering, and death? To the natural 
 
14 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 intellect, what greatness in a teacher whose only mes- 
 sage was about God and holiness, who gave no evi- 
 dence of profound intellectual methods, and did not 
 deal at all with the problems of science and philoso- 
 phy? The ardent reformer, if his, too, be the natural 
 mind, grows impatient with thi^ teacher who seems 
 to avoid the social complications of morality. Let 
 me not be misunderstood. With all my soul, I bow 
 in homage before the very qualities in Jesus at which 
 the world takes offence. His life is the true ideal, 
 before the splendor of which the common ideals of 
 the world are as glittering dross to gold. His teach- 
 ing contains the true philosophy ; and unless philoso- 
 phy accept both His affirmations and His implications, 
 it will ever remain a fruitless search. His ethics, 
 likewise, are the true basis of all social reconstruction 
 as well as of a noble individual life. But, as He 
 stands before us in His historic career on earth, and 
 when He is measured by the standards of greatness 
 and beauty employed by the natural mind, He is still 
 "without form or comeliness." He is a disappoint- 
 ment. Praise of Him may be wrung from men 
 through the influence which He himself has had upon 
 the world, and which has forced its way even into 
 unbelieving minds. But the natural mind, now as of 
 old, can on its own principles give no real recognition 
 of His intrinsic glory. Its forced and feeble praises 
 should not hide the fact of its essential rejection. 
 
DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST 1 5 
 
 Such I take to be the fact. Let us consider its 
 significance. 
 
 It has, first, a very important historical signifi- 
 cance. For, in view of our discussion, the question 
 must arise, How is the overwhelming power of Jesus 
 over His first disciples to be explained? How did He 
 succeed in originating Christianity? How came it that 
 He won His way so rapidly into the confidence and 
 veneration of so many both in the Jewish and the Gen- 
 tile world? The origin of Christianity ought to be an 
 enigma to the natural mind. As I have shown, Jesus 
 was utterly devoid of those qualities which are usually 
 thought able to start and to sustain such a movement. 
 His external life was fitted to arouse ridicule and con- 
 tempt, and did arouse them. He did not move the 
 minds of men by the power of intellectual genius. He 
 initiated no social reform. But these have been the 
 chief motive-powers by which other similar movements 
 have been originated. It will not do to say that mere 
 affection for His person explains this power, for that 
 would need to have been based on deeper ..reasons if it 
 were to influence any but a very few. Mohammed 
 relied on the power of the sword. Socrates became 
 famous as an intellectual genius. But Jesus was neither 
 soldier nor philosopher. What then was the power of 
 this lowly and crucified Nazarene? 
 
 The only sufficient answer is that He gave to His 
 followers supernatural evidence that He had come 
 
1 6 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 from God. This was supplied by His resurrection; 
 and then it was confirmed by their experience of 
 reconciliation with God through faith in Him. Take 
 away the supernatural from the origin of Christian- 
 ity, and you have an effect without a cause. If it 
 be said that it originated in enthusiasm for Jesus, 
 and that around this crystallized religious and intel- 
 lectual ideas which gave force to the movement, 
 we ask how are we to account for this original en- 
 thusiasm when Jesus, if He be stripped of the super- 
 natural, was without the qualities which on natural 
 principles arouse the zeal of men. To the thorough- 
 going evolutionist His power must remain inscrutable. 
 It is like the beginning of life in nature. It is like the 
 origin of mind. In fact, only a supernatural cause will 
 explain the phenomena. So disappointing a Messiah, 
 so improbable a Saviour, so unphilosophical a Teacher, 
 could not have originated the greatest movement in 
 the world's history if the power of God had not been 
 with Him and in Him. Certainly at least did the first 
 disciples themselves realize that it was only the power 
 of God which could secure the faith of men. This is 
 Paul's explicit declaration. He was right. The origin 
 of Christianity was supernatural ; or else, on natural 
 principles, it remains an insoluble enigma. 
 
 But the fact which we are considering has also a 
 profound religious significance. For another question 
 arises, viz., Why did God thus reveal Himself through 
 
DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST l? 
 
 His Messiah in such utter lowliness ? It would have 
 been easy for Christ to have eclipsed all others in their 
 own spheres. He might have been born like a king. 
 He might have given us the ultimate philosophy. He 
 might have entered at once on the reconstruction of 
 the world. He might have done these things, that is, 
 so far as His power was concerned. But could He 
 have fulfilled His purpose in these ways? The Bible 
 answers that He could not. And why? Because the 
 radical need is not knowledge. It is redemption. 
 The salvation of the w r orld primarily depends upon 
 the provision of an atonement. The debt of sin must 
 be paid. Eternal justice must first be satisfied. Only 
 then will knowledge profit. Only then can individual 
 holiness be reached. Only then can social recon- 
 struction proceed. 
 
 This is the truth which the natural mind does not 
 perceive. Its blindness to this is the cause of its 
 failure to appreciate Jesus. The need of redemp- 
 tion is the fact which alone explains the lowliness 
 of the Christ. So Isaiah declared. After our text he 
 explains, "He was bruised for our iniquities; the chas- 
 tisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His 
 stripes we are healed." This 'is the only adequate 
 explanation. So long as men feel no need of redemp- 
 tion, they will be disappointed with Jesus. So long as 
 they apply to Him earthly standards, He will fail to 
 win their entire allegiance. But when they feel their 
 
1 8 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 guilt, then will they sec that their earthly standards 
 are out of place, and that the very absence from Him 
 of earthly glory is the way by which He fulfils a 
 grander purpose and meets their direst need. It is, in 
 short, not possible to understand or to appreciate Jesus 
 Christ until redemption by sacrifice is perceived to be 
 the keynote of His mission. 
 
 And therefore I would indicate the practical sig- 
 nificance of the fact, which we have considered, espe- 
 cially for preachers of Christianity. If we present to 
 men the Christ of the Bible, we may expect to find 
 the natural mind ever disappointed with Him. And it 
 will not be worth our while to try to remove the 
 prejudice by arraying Him in tawdry robes that do not 
 belong to Him. We shall not secure true allegiance 
 to Him by instituting a comparison between Him and 
 other masters. If we could show that He surpassed 
 all others in their spheres, we should still have failed in 
 our mission. In fact, however, as I have stated, the 
 comparison will be disappointing. Such efforts are 
 but little better than when the soldier cast the purple 
 cloak upon Him and cried, " Hail, King of the Jews !" 
 
 Nay, we must present Him as He really is. He 
 must ever be known as the Crucified. Just because 
 He is that, are we sure that He is the Divine. He is 
 not to be measured by others. He is so infinitely 
 noble, that these measurements do not apply to Him. 
 But, whenever by the Spirit of God human souls are 
 
DISAPPOINTMENT OF WORLD WITH CHRIST 1 9 
 
 wakened to the reality of guilt and to the bondage of 
 sin, will they sec that, as despised and rejected of men, 
 Jesus is what they need. With this all their judgments 
 will change. The false splendor of the world's pomp 
 will fade away. The pride of intellect will abase itself 
 before Him as the highest truth. Even the striving 
 after good will change into a striving after God. The 
 unutterable glory of the Cross will dawn upon them. 
 Christ will no more be one of many masters. He will 
 be the Lamb and the Word of God. O, thou man of 
 sorrows, how much more glorious art Thou than any 
 dream of human greatness ! To the guilty conscience, 
 how priceless is Thy blood ! To the prodigal seeking 
 the divine Father, how welcome is the knowledge 
 of Thine obedience ! Yea, Thou dost draw near to 
 us by Thy very lowliness ; Thou dost disclose the 
 true beauty of love by Thy very shame ! Thou 
 only, despised and rejected One, Thou only canst 
 save ! 
 
 My brothers, take this divine and despised Redeemer 
 to the world. Put Him in no pantheon of great men. 
 Glory in His humiliation. Let others appear to sur- 
 pass Him in the estimate of the world. Do you point 
 out that He is greater than all because He is less than 
 all ; worthy of worship because He was deemed un- 
 worthy by the world ; able to save because He would 
 not save Himself; the One altogether lovely because 
 in the poor world's sight u without form or comeli- 
 
20 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 ness." Preach and trust " Christ crucified, unto the 
 Jews a stumbling-block, and unto the Greeks fool- 
 ishness ; but unto them which are called, both Jews 
 and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wis- 
 dom of God." 
 
II 
 
 THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 
 
 " I am Alpha and Omega." — Revelation xxii. 13. 
 
 The Lord Jesus Christ was the central figure of the 
 whole vision seen by Saint John in Patmos, even as 
 the coming of Christ is the theme of the whole 
 Apocalypse. That remarkable book begins with the 
 appearance of the glorified Saviour to His beloved 
 disciple. John heard behind him a great voice, as 
 of a trumpet, saying, " I am Alpha and Omega, the 
 first and the last." And he beheld, in the midst of 
 the seven golden candlesticks, one like unto the Son 
 of man, but strangely different from the lowly form of 
 Jesus of Nazareth, because invested with the symbols 
 of divine majesty and power. 
 
 This appearance gives the key to all the following 
 
 visions. The messages to the seven churches of Asia 
 
 were from this Christ; they were delivered with all 
 
 the authority of a master; and they rebuked and 
 
 praised with the sovereignty of an absolute king. 
 
 Then, in the vision of the throne in heaven, the 
 
 seer beheld in the midst of the throne and of the 
 
 four living creatures, and in the midst of the elders, 
 
 21 
 
22 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 a Lamb as it had been slain, who came and took 
 the book of the decrees out of the right hand of 
 God, and before whom the heavenly multitude fell 
 down with loud and long worship. So when the first 
 seal of the book was broken, Christ, on a white horse, 
 was seen to ride forth, with a crown given Him, con- 
 quering and to conquer. Again, He is represented as 
 the Child of Israel, caught up at birth unto God and to 
 His throne, against whom the dragon and his angels, 
 and the beasts which obey the dragon's will, incessantly 
 make war. Still again He issues forth from heaven 
 on His work of conquest, followed by the armies of the 
 skies, and bearing on His vesture and on His thigh the 
 name written, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords. 
 And finally He proclaims Himself the author of His 
 Apostle's vision : " I Jesus have sent mine angel to 
 testify unto you these things in the churches. I am 
 the root and the offspring of David, and the bright and 
 morning star." For as in the early twilight, when the 
 light and darkness combat with each other, the morn- 
 ing star heralds the coming day, so amid these visions 
 of the conflict between spiritual light and darkness is 
 the figure of Christ. The sure herald of the splendor 
 of the everlasting dawn, He stands forth supremely — 
 the Christ glorifying Himself by glorifying His people — 
 the Christ conquering, ruling, judging, and rewarding. 
 According to the same Apostle, He was the Eternal 
 Word, who in the beginning was with God and was 
 
THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 23 
 
 God. According to this same Apostle, the Word had 
 become flesh, and dwelt among us, full of grace and 
 truth. And now He is King over all things, leading 
 to everlasting triumph the hosts of God. What won- 
 der that there should echo from the lips of Christ 
 Himself, through all the Apocalypse, this phrase, 
 which seems to contain all the Lord's glorious history : 
 " I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, 
 the first and the last !" 
 
 The general meaning of the phrase is evident 
 enough. It sets forth the supremacy, the sovereignty, 
 the everlastingness of Christ, the author, the governor, 
 and the goal of all creation. But it is not, we think, 
 too fanciful to perceive in the first clause a particular 
 form in which the general idea is expressed. What, 
 then, we ask, is indicated by this title appropriated by 
 Christ, " I am Alpha and Omega " ? Its suggestiveness 
 will appear in the following way. The first and last 
 letters of the alphabet may be used to represent in 
 brief the sum and substance of any subject. Just as 
 we call the elements of any study its A B C, so that 
 which is the all-pervading idea, the centre, the sub- 
 stance of any treatise, would be its Alpha and Omega. 
 It would be found everywhere throughout the volume. 
 It would be implied where it is not expressed. It 
 would be the main theme of which all else would be a 
 variation. Furthermore, language is the expression 
 of thought. When, therefore, Christ declares Him- 
 
24 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 self the Alpha and Omega, He declares Himself the 
 sum and substance of expressed thought, the all- 
 pervading and central theme to which utterance has 
 been given. But given by whom ? Of whose 
 thought is He the expression ? Of whose lan- 
 guage is He the theme ? There can be but one an- 
 swer. It is God's thought which He expresses ; God's 
 language of which He is the utterance. This, then, is 
 the mighty truth proclaimed in our text — that Christ 
 is the sum and the substance of God's revealed thought. 
 He is the first and the last, for " in the beginning was 
 the Word," and He is " the heir of all things " ; He is 
 " the beginning and the end," for " all things were 
 created by Him and for Him." But He is, furthermore, 
 also the Alpha and the Omega, the actual substance, 
 the single, universal theme of God's revealed thought. 
 Now, in order afterward to exhibit the richness of 
 this truth, let me remind you, first, that, in Bible teach- 
 ing, the history of the world, both natural and moral, 
 and still more clearly the history of redemption, are 
 but the records in time of God's original thought He 
 has already thought out that which takes place in 
 His creation. The world, in all its parts, is the revela- 
 tion of the divine mind — of the idea which God had 
 from and before the start. This is simply to say that 
 God is an intelligent and almighty Creator. He is not 
 a force that thrust the world blindly into being. He 
 is not a law that operates like the laws of machines. 
 
THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 2$ 
 
 He is a person; He is a mind; He thinks; He plans; 
 and so He acts. He devised this creation before He 
 created it. He had the thought before He proceeded 
 to carry it out. " He created all things according to 
 the counsel of His own will." " He purposed" certain 
 things " in Himself." Such is the teaching of Scripture, 
 and of all spiritual religion ; so that the ultimate secret 
 of all things consists in God's thought; and the ulti- 
 mate reason for all events is to be sought in God's 
 original purpose. 
 
 Without delaying longer on this point, I will simply 
 remark that this view is the precise opposite of the 
 doctrine of chance. If we believe in a personal God 
 at all, it would seem to be almost impossible to sup- 
 pose that He either made or governs the world in a 
 haphazard way. Had the world been made by an 
 angel, its author might not have known what would be 
 the result or the history of his own work ; just as an 
 inventor may have no idea to what uses his invention 
 will finally be put. But the loftier and the purer our 
 idea of God becomes, the more do we feel that any- 
 thing like chance must be impossible in His works. 
 We feel that, as the perfect intelligence, He must have 
 had in mind, from the start, all the subsequent history 
 of His creation ; we feel that, as the Almighty One, 
 He must have willed the world into being with the 
 intention that all that has come to pass should occur. 
 We look back, therefore, to His eternal thought as the 
 
26 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 origin of all accomplished things. We may not be at 
 all able to understand why He has acted as He does, 
 or thought as He has ; but we would rather believe in 
 His wisdom, in spite of our inability to understand it, 
 than to be left to the monstrous alternative that He 
 made a world without knowing why He made it, or 
 without intending to do anything particular in it or 
 with it. 
 
 And the loftier our idea of the Divine Being, the 
 more do we feel that we can place absolutely no 
 limit upon what was embraced in the scope of His 
 original purpose. We feel, for example, that it 
 must have included the infinitely various world of 
 nature. That world awes us by its vastness ; astounds 
 us by the intricate and subtle play of its forces. It 
 overwhelms the imagination by the perfection of its 
 machinery, even under the minutest examination of the 
 microscope. It reveals everywhere the sway of exact 
 law. Men have discovered in it a wonderful play 
 of forces — one force changing into others, while yet 
 the total amount of energy in the universe appears to 
 remain the same. It is an immense unity ; each part 
 affects the other parts about it, with the result of pro- 
 ducing, in the lapse of ages, an infinite variety of objects 
 instead of the formless chaos to which both Scripture 
 and science point as having been at the beginning. 
 Now we maintain that this natural world has not been 
 produced by chance. I do not necessarily mean that 
 
THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 27 
 
 each object, or each variety, or each species of a thing 
 has been directly created out of nothing by the hand 
 of God. That is another question. But whether that 
 be so, or whether these seem simply to have grown, in 
 either case we hold to the idea that they come into 
 being according to God's original design and under 
 His supervision. To say that there is no evidence of 
 mind in nature is to shut one's eyes to the order which 
 pervades it ; to the adaptation to each other of even its 
 most distinct parts ; and to forget, in too minute study 
 of its details, the magnificent results which have been 
 reached and which an infinity of chances could not 
 have produced. We prefer the old statement of Scrip- 
 ture : " O Lord, how manifold are Thy works ! In 
 wisdom hast Thou made them all : the earth is full of 
 Thy riches." 
 
 Then, too, we feel in like manner that human history 
 must have been included in God's original thought. 
 This might, at first, appear more improbable, for the 
 reason that man is a free agent, and therefore it would 
 seem impossible to know beforehand what he would 
 do, and impossible to direct his course without destroy- 
 ing his freedom. And yet a moment's reflection shows 
 the contrary. For, explain it as we may, it is an unde- 
 niable fact that the history of man has been one of 
 growth and progress. That progress has been in the 
 direction of material improvement and of increasing 
 knowledge ; and not only so, but mankind has been 
 
28 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 so controlled by unseen forces that great results for 
 morals, and for religion, and for the human mind, have 
 been accomplished which men never devised them- 
 selves. Here, then, is the evident fact that, though 
 men are free, they are governed, they are controlled, 
 they carry out unwittingly great purposes, the drift 
 of which we can often see. This confirms us in the 
 opinion that human history, in all its parts, was in- 
 cluded in God's thought before even Adam stood in 
 his earthly Paradise. " He hath made of one blood 
 all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the 
 earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, 
 and the bounds of their habitation." 
 
 And I need scarcely add, that the whole work of 
 redemption was included in God's original thought — 
 that He foresaw and intended to allow the fall of man, 
 though He did not cause the fall ; that He intended 
 to allow the dispersion of the nations, and to select 
 as the recipients of His special truth the children of 
 Abraham ; that He intended to reveal Himself through 
 the incarnation of His Son, and to apply Christ's re- 
 demption in His own way through the work of the 
 Spirit. 
 
 The history of the world, therefore, is the record of 
 God's thought. I do not wish to elaborate this idea, 
 but merely to impress it on your minds for the sake of 
 what will follow. I am perfectly aware that it is not an 
 easy idea to explain; that it is not always clear; that 
 
THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 2$ 
 
 there are facts in the world's history which it often 
 seems to us God could not have intended. But I am 
 sure that it is less difficult to explain these than to 
 adopt the theory of chance. That would banish Him 
 altogether from His creation. That would require 
 draughts on faith in comparison with which faith in 
 God would be child's play. If you stand in the nave 
 of a cathedral, it is evident to your mind that the build- 
 ing was erected for a purpose, and according to one or 
 more architectural ideas. You may not admire the 
 architecture ; you may find fault with the design ; you 
 may be unable to understand why certain features were 
 added and others left out. But as you survey the 
 whole, you would not, because of your criticism upon 
 it, conclude that the building rose by chance. Still 
 less can we believe this of the wide universe. It is 
 God's handiwork. It is God's building. It embodies 
 divine thought. We are forced to agree with the 
 Psalmist that " the counsel of the Lord standeth for- 
 ever, the thoughts of His heart to all generations "; to 
 believe also the solemn words of the Prophet, that 
 " the Lord of hosts hath sworn, saying, Surely as I 
 have thought, so shall it come to pass ; and as I have 
 purposed, so shall it stand " ; and to accept finally the 
 teaching of the Apostle, of " the purpose of Him who 
 worketh all things after the counsel of His own will." 
 If there be any darkness to us in His dealings, we 
 should exclaim, " O the depth of the riches both of 
 
30 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 the wisdom and knowledge of God ! How unsearch- 
 able are His judgments, and His ways past finding 
 out ! For who hath known the mind of the Lord ? or 
 who hath been His counsellor? Or who hath first 
 given to Him, and it shall be recompensed unto him 
 again? For of Him, and through Him, and to Him 
 are all things ; to whom be glory forever. Amen." 
 
 With then this in mind, we may be prepared for 
 the declaration of Jesus Christ, " I am Alpha and 
 Omega." As I have named some of the many things 
 included in God's revealed thought, you have noticed 
 that the sending of Christ was mentioned as but one 
 of them, and such is the place which He occupies in 
 ordinary thought. He is considered, perhaps, but one 
 among many religious teachers ; or if His unique 
 place in redemption be recognized, redemption itself 
 is considered as but one of many purposes for which 
 the world was made, and sometimes not even the 
 most important. But this is not what Christ claimed 
 for Himself, or the Bible for Him ; and if I have been 
 able to impress you with the truth that all creation is 
 the unfolding of God's thought, you will be prepared 
 to admit the grandeur of the position which Christ 
 occupies when we are told that, of all that thought 
 of God's which has been revealed, He is the sum 
 and substance. He is its Alpha and Omega. 
 
 Let me indicate how the vista of this truth opens 
 in several directions before the mind's eye. 
 
THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 3 1 
 
 I. In the first place, then, He is the sum and sub- 
 stance of the Bible itself, and so the practical truth, 
 the substance of truth to be believed. The Scrip- 
 tures of the Old and New Testaments are the Word of 
 God. They are His language, utterances of His 
 thought, given from time to time, and collected into 
 a volume. They also reveal that plan of salvation 
 which all believers admit to have been devised by 
 God alone. Here, then, is the written record of God's 
 thought. He knew the end of it from the beginning, 
 but little by little did He communicate it to men. It 
 forms a book whose human authors were not aware 
 of the size and extent of the revelation to which they 
 contributed. It contains various methods of teaching 
 — now by the lessons of history, now by the exhorta- 
 tions of the prophets, now by the thunders of law, 
 now by the arguments of acute minds, and again by 
 the examples of holy characters. It treats of various 
 themes — was composed under the most various cir- 
 cumstances and for the most various purposes. 
 God of old times spoke " unto the fathers in the 
 prophets by divers portions and in divers manners"; 
 and no less did He so speak through the apostles and 
 evangelists. The book is a mosaic, made by different 
 artists under the unknown direction of a greater than 
 they. It is God's word to man — manifold, complex, 
 and prolonged ; and yet when we receive it all, we 
 discover that, of all this mass of revealed thought, 
 
32 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Jesus Christ is the Alpha and the Omega, the sub- 
 stance and the sum, the stone out of which each 
 piece of the mosaic is taken, and the figure which 
 all the pieces unite to portray. 
 
 You may sec this by following along the history 
 of the revelation itself. In the earlier parts, indeed, 
 Christ is seldom mentioned. The stream rises among 
 the mountains, a little rivulet, that might be overlooked 
 in the landscape. But slowly and surely it widens. 
 God tells, first, of the woman's seed that would bruise 
 the serpent's head. Then, to Abraham, of his seed, 
 in whom all nations should be blessed. Then, through 
 Jacob, of Shiloh, the prince of peace ; through Moses, 
 of the future prophet ; through Balaam, of the Rising 
 Star; to David, of his greater Son; through Isaiah, 
 of the suffering Redeemer and the glorious King : 
 and so with louder and still stronger emphasis, till 
 the shadows fly before the rising of the Sun Himself. 
 Then He fills all the firmament. Apostles preach 
 Him ; evangelists describe Him ; the Spirit in the 
 Church explains and glorifies Him ; and, at last, as we 
 have seen, prophecy expires with the vision of Christ 
 in glory coming to judge the world. We realize now 
 that, of the whole book, He is the Alpha and Omega ; 
 and looking back to the beginning we can see that 
 though He was but seldom mentioned, He underlay 
 all. In the earliest sacrifices, His sacrifice was implied. 
 The ritual of the tabernacle and the temple anticipated 
 
THE ALPHA AXD OMEGA 33 
 
 His coming. All that God taught men of old time was 
 part and parcel of Christ; so that were it lost and Me 
 only retained, not one whit of God's thought would 
 perish for mankind. 
 
 Or you may see the same thing by examining the 
 system of doctrine revealed in the Bible. Its elements 
 are such as these. It begins with man's sin and guilt, 
 declaring him to be a lost soul. It then tells of God's 
 holiness and justice and love — the holiness which men 
 must imitate, the justice which punishes disobedience, 
 the love which reaches in fatherly tenderness to us, 
 His fallen children. It adds to this the failure of 
 man's efforts to please God, the necessity of an atone- 
 ment, the immortality of the soul, and eternal rewards 
 and penalties to come. These are the elements, but 
 they all are merged in the single doctrine of the Christ. 
 If in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive. 
 If God be just, Christ has satisfied His justice for 
 every one that believes. If God be love, Christ reveals 
 that love. If God be holy, Christ enables man to be- 
 come holy likewise. He also brings immortality to light 
 by His resurrection ; and according as men do or do 
 not receive Him are they to receive happiness or misery 
 in the future world. Christ, therefore, is the sum and 
 substance of Bible doctrine as well as of Bible history. 
 Everything must be viewed in His light. Everything 
 must be explained by its relation to Him. He is the 
 
 text on which all else is the comment. He is the truth 
 3 
 
34 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 of which all else is the application. He is the centre 
 from which all else radiates, and the foundation on 
 which all else rests. Not the decrees of God, not the 
 law of God, not the guilt of man, not immortality, not 
 any of these other truths is the central one ; but Jesus 
 Christ is the centre. He implies all the rest; looking 
 at Him, we look at the light itself; we read the 
 whole revelation in a glance. He is the Alpha and 
 the Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and 
 the last. 
 
 2. Then glance in another direction at the vista 
 opened by our text. He is the sum and substance of 
 all human history, and so the guiding principle of all 
 thoughts. 
 
 I have already maintained that all history is the un- 
 folding of divine thought. God's purposes embraced 
 not merely the Jews and the Christian Church, but all 
 mankind. He intended to leave the nations for a while 
 to their own ways, as though to prove thereby the 
 impossibility of living aright without His aid ; and in 
 the fullness of time to unite them in the faith of the 
 Gospel. We ask, then, whether it is possible to dis- 
 cover in history any movement, embracing all peoples, 
 and leading to one universal goal. At first sight, it 
 might appear impossible. The nations of the world 
 have lived at cross-purposes, have fought furiously 
 against each other, and have differed, the one from 
 the other, in ten thousand ways. Each has seemed to 
 
THE ALPHA A. YD OMEGA 35 
 
 go its own road, making its own religion, establishing 
 its own laws, working out its own destiny. But is this 
 appearance not deceptive? Is there visible no general 
 movement of humanity in one direction ? Have not 
 many barriers been broken down, so as to tend 
 toward the discovery of one human race ? Is not 
 also the contrast already great between the separation 
 of people from people which antiquity showed and 
 the amalgamation of all into one which in some 
 measure modern life discloses ? Is not the human 
 mind the same everywhere, and cannot we see that 
 the drift of human life is toward some single goal 
 common to all the world ? 
 
 If so, what is that goal ? Once discover it, and you 
 will have the sum and substance of man's history ; 
 the object for which he has been made to live. 
 What is it then ? Is it mere political unity ? That 
 seems as far off as ever. Is it merely secular 
 knowledge, or knowledge applied to the comforts 
 of life ? That would leave unchanged the moral 
 nature of man, and the race would continue to show, 
 even when most enlightened, as much crime and sin 
 as now. No, the goal of history is the Kingdom of 
 God, and the Kingdom of God is the Kingdom of 
 Christ ! He is its Alpha and Omega. 
 
 We can obtain a hint of this by recalling that re- 
 markable combination of circumstances, which Saint 
 Paul called the fullness of time, with which you all 
 
36 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 are familiar, and by which Christ came into the 
 world at precisely the moment when natural re- 
 ligion was worn out, when the Jewish Church had 
 ended its mission, when the civilized world had 
 one language to convey the Gospel and one gov- 
 ernment to protect it. But this is only a hint of 
 a larger truth, namely, that the one divine purpose 
 which runs through all human life is to create the age 
 in which every knee shall bow to Jesus, and in which 
 the human race shall find its perfection of both brain 
 and heart in the Kingdom of God's dear Son. Christ's 
 Kingdom is the end of history. His character, the goal 
 of man. All that conflicts with Him shall be cast out 
 of the world He has redeemed. Only what is Christ- 
 like will survive therein. And as we shall look back 
 upon human life from the glorious future, we shall 
 confess that He was the Alpha and the Omega, the 
 beginning and the end, the first and the last, the sum 
 and the substance of this world's long, confused life. 
 
 3. But I would have you look at this truth in another 
 direction, and this time apply the telescope of God's 
 Word to the vast universe above and beyond our 
 world, for you will find that Christ is the Alpha and 
 the Omega of all creation, and so also the goal to 
 which all leads. We have ascended, step by step, 
 upon the mount of vision, and, as the landscape has 
 widened, have beheld the same figure of Christ, the 
 central object in Patmos and in the world, in the Bible 
 
THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 37 
 
 and in all history. Now we are to gaze beyond earth, 
 and into the starry spaces — back into the silent eter- 
 nity, up to the throne of God, on into the ages to come, 
 and lo ! He, around whom this world gathers, is found 
 to be still the centre of God's creation, the Alpha and 
 Omega of God's thought. 
 
 I would that I could convey to you the wonder- 
 ful impression of the dignity of Jesus Christ which 
 I derive from the pages of God's Word. Let me 
 simply indicate whither our thought should tend. 
 We should turn first to the opening of Saint John's 
 Gospel : " In the beginning was the Word, and the 
 Word was with God, and the Word was God. . . . 
 All things were made by Him ; and without Him 
 was not any thing made that was made. In Him 
 was life ; and the life was the light of men." What 
 means this language, but that the Son of God, who 
 became flesh in Jesus Christ, is so emphatically the 
 revelation of God's thought that He is called literally 
 the Word of God, and that He has been so from the 
 very beginning of all things ? Christ is God's utter- 
 ance; He is all of God's revealed thought. Through 
 Him the Father works. He created the world. He 
 is the world's spiritual light. There is this grand 
 thought conveyed by the Apostle, that God has re- 
 vealed Himself only through His Son ; the Son is the 
 revelation ; He is the medium through which God 
 shines forth and acts and loves. To take an imperfect 
 
38 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 illustration : If a father should bequeath to his child 
 an invention, endow him with the results of all his own 
 labors, and that child should put that invention into 
 practice; then the child would be prepared to con- 
 vey the father's thought. And so we are taught did 
 the Son of God contain in Him and carry into action 
 all the Divine Father's thought. He is the Word of 
 God; all that God has revealed of Himself has been 
 through His Son. 
 
 Then, with this in mind, we turn to the first chapter 
 of Ephesians, and discover the same truth put in a 
 different way and differently applied. We read that 
 Christ is the medium through which all God's loving 
 thoughts toward His people have been carried out. He 
 has blessed us with all spiritual blessings in Christ. 
 He has chosen us in Christ before the foundation of 
 the world. In Christ we have redemption, through 
 His blood, even the forgiveness of sins. This means 
 that the decrees of God, and the love and salvation 
 of God, are all looked upon by God Himself through 
 Christ ; Christ being the medium by which they are 
 carried out, the glass through which they are seen, the 
 representative through whom they are conveyed and 
 distributed to us. 
 
 And yet not merely is He the Agent of our Christian 
 lives. He is now the Head over all things. He ad- 
 ministers God's wide government. He is appointed 
 Heir of all things, He by Whom God made the worlds. 
 
THE ALPHA AND OMEGA 39 
 
 He is in God's place, exalted above all principality 
 and power, that He might fill all things. And to 
 what end ? This question is answered by Saint Paul 
 in a sentence which is itself the complete statement of 
 our text and of the idea we have deduced from it He 
 wrote again to the Ephesians that God has " made 
 known unto us the mystery of His will " — i. e., that 
 eternal thought of which the universe is the copy — 
 "according to the good pleasure which He purposed in 
 Himself — namely, this, that in the dispensation of the 
 fullness of times He might sum up in one all things 
 in Christ, both which are in heaven and which are on 
 earth." Christ is the end to which absolutely all 
 things tend — not merely the little life of man, but the 
 greater life of the whole creation. As in the begin- 
 ning, He revealed God, so at the end will He do the 
 same, but with that fullness of revelation which only 
 the long history of conflict between sin and righteous- 
 ness could produce. As He was at the beginning, so 
 will He be in the end, but with all that He has done 
 meanwhile, with all that through Him and with Him 
 men have learned meanwhile, spread out to view. 
 
 For this, I take it, is to be the end of time. 
 When all things in heaven and on earth shall have as- 
 sumed their permanent and unchangeable relation to 
 Christ; when His foes shall have been finally vanquished 
 and His friends perfectly purified; when heaven and 
 earth, when angels and men, shall bow the knee, with 
 
40 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 either the love of followers or with the sullen surrender 
 of beaten enemies, and confess that He is Lord to the 
 glory of God the Father. And then, we are told, when 
 all things are subdued under Him, shall the Son also 
 Himself be subject unto Him that put all things under 
 1 lim, that God may be all in all. You call this specu- 
 lation : but it is simply the repetition of the statements 
 of God's Word; and from them may we gain the idea 
 that as on earth we have discovered Christ to be the 
 sum and substance of God's thought revealed to us, 
 so will the future prove that He is the sum and sub- 
 stance likewise of all that God has thought concern- 
 ing all creation ; and that in a sense of which we now 
 can see but dimly the grandeur, He will be found to 
 be the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the 
 end, the first and the last. 
 
 What a character, then, Christ is ! How miserably 
 base appears neglect of Him ! How grand is faith, 
 which opens to our poor minds and hearts this Word 
 of God! For I ask if it does not follow from what 
 I have said that Christ ought to be the Alpha and 
 Omega of our thoughts, even as He is of God's. 
 Ought He not to be to us everything? Ought not our 
 lives to centre in Him ; our opinions to bow to Him ? 
 Ought it not to be our hope to have Christ in us ; 
 our reward, to share His glory ? If He be the Alpha 
 and the Omega of Scripture, of man's life on earth, 
 aye, of all life of all created beings, then, truly, words 
 
THE ALPHA A XL) OMEGA 4 1 
 
 are too weak to express the absolute faith which we 
 should be glad to render. For what, perhaps, is most 
 affecting in Christ's character is that He will deign to 
 be to each of us all that He is to the greatest; that 
 He will be glad to fill our lives and hearts with His 
 majestic but gracious presence ; that He desires to be 
 to you and to me the Friend that sticketh closer than 
 a brother. 
 
 My hearers, this is the question of questions : What 
 is Christ to you ? This, the question which decides 
 all destinies ; the question on which eternity hinges. 
 This is the question the answer to which, as we have 
 seen, will part good from the bad for all eternity. 
 What is Christ to you ? Can you say that for you to 
 live is Christ ? Is He to you the Alpha and the 
 Omega, the One for whom you live, in whom you live ; 
 the One who is first in your heart and in your real 
 service? He must be! He must be! or your thought 
 will not be God's thought. Hereafter you will submit, 
 but without reward. Submit to Him now ! Behold 
 His peerless worth! Make Him your Lord and King! 
 And you will join hereafter with the host who give 
 blessing and honor and dominion unto Him who 
 sitteth on the throne and unto the Lamb forever. 
 You will behold the King in His beauty, and you 
 will say that the half has never been told you of His 
 worth and goodness who is, in Himself, the revelation 
 of God. 
 
Ill 
 
 WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST? 
 " What think ye of Christ ?" — Matt. xxii. 42. 
 
 This was one of several occasions on which Jesus 
 confuted His Pharisaic opponents by a question ; 
 and in this instance He not only silenced them, but 
 made them appear ridiculous as well. If there was 
 one question which they ought to have been able to 
 answer satisfactorily, it was this, " What think ye 
 concerning the Christ?" Were they not Jews? Were 
 they not doctors of the law ? Were they not pro- 
 fessed expounders of the Scriptures ? And was not 
 the Christ the main object of Hebrew hope ; and the 
 doctrine of the Christ the central doctrine of the Old 
 Testament ? One would suppose that no new infor- 
 mation could have been given them on the inspired 
 teaching of their own Scriptures concerning this main 
 article of their faith. Yet they were silenced by this 
 question, " What think ye of the Christ ? whose Son 
 is He ? For David in Spirit calleth Him Lord : how 
 is He then His Son?" 
 
 We answer at once that He was foretold in the Old 
 
 Testament, just as He is represented in the New, as 
 
 both David's Lord and David's Son ; " born of the seed 
 
 43 
 
44 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 of David according to the flesh and declared to be the 
 Son of God with power by the resurrection of the dead." 
 But if the Messiah was to be divine, why should the 
 Jews upbraid Jesus — since He claimed to be Messiah — 
 for asserting His divinity ? Their silence, therefore, 
 proved either that they were not sincere in their 
 opposition to His doctrine, and were governed simply 
 by unconquerable hatred of His person ; or else that 
 they did not understand their own Scriptures. If the 
 latter, they appeared in a ridiculous light. If the 
 former, their true spirit was unmasked, and their 
 opposition to Jesus was reduced to simple wickedness 
 and selfishness. 
 
 The whole theory, in short, upon which they were 
 acting was shown to be unfounded and insincere by 
 this searching, yet simple, question. And we have 
 only to change a little our point of view in order 
 to make the same question equally pertinent now. 
 Any theory upon which a man pretends to govern 
 his conduct must account for all the important facts 
 or else be confuted by them. When a scientific man, 
 for example, propounds a theory in explanation of 
 any of the phenomena of nature, if you can put 
 your finger on one fact pertaining to the subject in 
 hand and show that his theory does not agree with 
 that fact, you have so far proved the insufficiency of 
 the theory. If a lawyer be making out his theory of 
 the case which he is defending, his opponent will 
 
WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 45 
 
 be likely to make short work of it if he can point out 
 one important fact which the advocate's theory does 
 not explain. Precisely so is it with men's theories 
 of life and duty. Jesus Christ is, confessedly, the 
 central figure of the world's moral history. He has 
 to be taken, therefore, into the account ; He cannot 
 be left out. And every theory of life, whether merely 
 moral or distinctly religious, must be prepared to 
 answer the old question by which the Jewish rulers 
 were silenced, "What, then, think ye of the Christ?" 
 A good many of our modern, popular teachers simply 
 leave Him alone. They have nothing to say of Him 
 at all. But they cannot fairly do this : and I fancy 
 that it would bring not a few back to their senses, 
 and would hold up to ridicule not a few theories by 
 which paper is wasted and lives are ruined, if men 
 were compelled to give their serious answer to this 
 question. 
 
 I desire, then, to put the question to you at once, 
 especially in its bearing on the common ideas of our 
 day ; and, first, I will try to show the importance of 
 the question ; yea, the absolute necessity under which 
 men are of being able to give a plain and direct 
 answer to it. 
 
 In order to this, observe, on the one hand, that 
 Christ is the kernel of Christianity — its living centre ; 
 its radical principle; its creative thought. 
 
 He is obviously the kernel of the Bible. Abstract 
 
46 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Him from it, and it remains a mere shell. Take 
 Him from it and you take away its central thought — 
 the idea about and upon which all its parts are built. 
 He is the soul of the Bible. Hebrew history, of which 
 the Old Testament gives the record, narrates God's 
 preparation of His Church for the coming of Christ — 
 her intellectual preparation, to understand Him ; her 
 moral preparation, to follow Him. The New Testa- 
 ment describes His advent and life, what the apostles 
 taught about Him, and man's duties in view of His 
 advent. The Bible is not primarily the revelation of 
 God as He is in Himself, although it reveals Him 
 to us. It is not primarily the history of man's 
 religious progress, although it discloses this also. 
 It is not primarily a book of morals, although it 
 teaches the highest morality. It is not a philosophy, 
 although it involves a philosophy. The Bible, as 
 a matter of fact, centres in Christ. It is the reve- 
 lation of God in Christ, of man's salvation through 
 Christ, of morality as exemplified and taught by 
 Christ, and of philosophy as implied in Christ. 
 
 I need not dwell on this familiar fact. You might as 
 well take Hamlet out of Shakespeare's play, or Caesar 
 out of Roman history, or the sun out of the solar system, 
 as Christ out of the Bible. Now, let us remember that 
 the Bible was written at intervals through a period 
 of fifteen hundred years ; that it is the literary monu- 
 ment of a long movement which has affected more 
 
WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 47 
 
 profoundly than has any other movement the life 
 of humanity. Let us add the remembrance that the 
 Bible, as a whole and when gathered in a single 
 volume, has been the religious teacher of the most 
 civilized and progressive and practically religious por- 
 tions of the race. Must we not admit at least the su- 
 preme importance of the question, which takes us to 
 the root-thought from which all this has sprung, and 
 feel that no intelligent man ought to be without his 
 answer to the query, "What think ye of Christ?" 
 
 But, furthermore, Christ is not only the kernel of 
 the book which we call the Bible, but He is the 
 kernel also of that system of belief which constitutes 
 the Christian creed. The Christian creed is not a 
 number of independent articles of belief tied together 
 by the Church, like a bundle of sticks tied together by 
 a string. It is a system of belief in which every part 
 grows out of one central truth, as the branches of a 
 tree grow out of the trunk. It is a fact of history that 
 the definite statement by the Church of this system 
 grew out of the questions concerning its belief in Jesus 
 Christ and the logical inferences drawn from it ; and 
 the historian can trace the progress of the Church's 
 apprehension of what is taught in the Bible along the 
 line of its faith in its great Founder. The consequence 
 is that if a man tell you what he thinks of Christ, you 
 can tell pretty clearly what he thinks about all the 
 other principal points of Christianity. 
 
43 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 If, for example, he tell you that he thinks Christ was 
 a mere man, good but not divine, a teacher but not a 
 Saviour (in the sense in which we call Him such), then 
 you can infer at once that the speaker does not believe 
 in the Trinity, nor in the fall of man, nor in the Atone- 
 ment, nor in the inspiration of the Bible, nor in regenera- 
 tion, nor probably in the doctrine of future punishment. 
 If Christ be not divine, then, of course, there is no Trin- 
 ity. If Christ be not divine, then, of course, His death 
 was not an atonement for human guilt. If no atone- 
 ment for guilt be necessary, then, of course, man is not 
 lost, nor does he need the power of the Holy Spirit 
 in order to enter the kingdom of God, nor is it likely 
 that he will be punished for his sins in the future 
 world. If, finally, Christ be a mere man, then the 
 Bible can scarcely be deemed inspired of God, at least 
 not in such sense as to be an infallible teacher of 
 truth ; for manifestly and, in our day, confessedly, it 
 teaches that before His birth in Bethlehem He was 
 the Son of God. I am not now contending for the 
 truth of these doctrines. I am simply pointing 
 out their connection with each other, and trying to 
 show that the Christian creed is a unit and not a 
 bundle of sticks, and that the whole of it depends on 
 the answer which we give to the question, " What 
 think ye of Christ ?" That question takes us to the 
 root of the tree, to the heart of the creed. 
 
 But it does even more than this. It takes us to the 
 
WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 49 
 
 kernel of the Christian life. Of course, this must be so 
 if the creed be a real belief; but it is worth noting 
 separately. The distinctive thing which makes a man 
 experimentally a Christian is his thought about Christ. 
 It is not his belief in God ; for a man may believe in God 
 and yet not be a Christian. It is not his belief in moral 
 obligation ; for he may believe in the whole deca- 
 logue and yet not be a Christian. It is not his belief 
 in the Church ; for he may believe in the Church as 
 an institution, and may serve her zealously, and yet 
 not be a Christian. It is not his belief in the Bible, 
 apart from what the Bible teaches concerning Christ. 
 It is his belief in Christ ; and this not merely his intel- 
 lectual belief about Christ, but his personal acceptance 
 of Christ and trust in Him as a Saviour. 
 
 Paul may fairly be taken as an example of what a 
 Christian is, and he said : " I live by the faith of the 
 Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." 
 Observe that his faith was in Christ, in Christ as the 
 Son of God, in Christ as his Saviour, in Christ as his 
 personal Saviour ; and that this was not a mere intel- 
 lectual conviction, but a practical life. " I live by the 
 faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave Him- 
 self for me." So is it still. To be a Christian, you 
 do not have to begin by accepting, still less by under- 
 standing, all the articles of the creed. You do not 
 become a Christian by uniting with the Church, nor 
 
 by reforming your bad habits. You become a Christian 
 4 
 
50 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 by accepting Christ with your mind and your heart; 
 and all the new world of light which opens about a 
 new convert is caused by the new thoughts which he 
 has concerning his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. 
 
 Thus Christ is the kernel of Christianity, histor- 
 ically and experimentally, in theology and in daily 
 life. But more than this, He is the great, and 
 absolutely the best test of a man's moral character. 
 This is the second fact which shows the importance 
 of the question given in the text. 
 
 What we mean by it may be made to appear more 
 clearly by the aid of some illustrations. Suppose 
 an instructor, desiring to test the real degree of 
 education to which a pupil has attained. He cannot 
 do better than to take some particular author, for 
 example, and ask the pupil's opinion of him. What 
 does he think of Wordsworth's Ode ? The reply 
 will show the degree of knowledge and the kind of 
 taste possessed by the pupil. Or if we may take an 
 illustration from the political field, we should say 
 that you cannot test an Englishman's political senti- 
 ments more accurately than by asking, What does 
 he think of Gladstone ? or a German's, than by ask- 
 ing, What does he think of Bismarck ? The reply 
 will reveal at once his political sympathies. So if you 
 hold a magnet amongst a pile of mixed iron and 
 wooden particles, the iron will cling to the magnet 
 and the wood will remain unmoved. Thus you dis- 
 
WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 5 I 
 
 cover not only the power of the magnet, but also the 
 character of the materials amongst which it is held. 
 
 In a similar way Christ tests men's moral character. 
 The question, What think you of Christ ? shows what 
 sort of man you are. Not, of course, if we only mean 
 what your public profession is or your theoretical 
 notions are; but certainly if we mean what is your real 
 thought, your inner attitude of mind. All that really 
 sympathizes with goodness must sympathize with Him 
 when He is fairly beheld. All that hates holiness 
 must hate Christ too. He said to Pilate, " Every one 
 that is of the truth heareth my voice." And it is 
 even so. The worst comment that can be made upon 
 a man is that he rejects or dislikes Jesus Christ. It 
 is his self-condemnation. If you were to separate 
 every act of a man's life and every movement of his 
 mind, and exactly weigh and measure each in the 
 scale of an infallible divine judgment, and were to sum 
 up the results with the accuracy of omniscience itself, 
 you could not more certainly decide the moral worth 
 of a character than you could by obtaining its sincere 
 answer to this question, What think you of Christ? 
 That would tell all the story at once. And that is a 
 question which every one of us may ask himself 
 and so at once learn his condition in the sight of 
 Almighty God. 
 
 We have, therefore, this one question to ask of all 
 theories on which men are living. We ask it of 
 
52 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 science. We certainly have no quarrel with science, 
 but glory in her advancement. Rut when .some man 
 in the name of science produces a theory which he 
 asserts will furnish the only true philosophy of life, 
 then we ask, Well, on your theory, what think you 
 of Christ? And if he replies that his theory compels 
 him to answer that Christ was a mistaken or even 
 merely an upright man, we reply that his theory 
 cannot be true ; that the testimony to what Christ 
 really was is too strong to be doubted, and that 
 whatsoever conflicts with it is thereby disproved. We 
 ask the same question of the moralist. You say it 
 is only necessary to keep the decalogue, to be just and 
 kind, in order to be saved. Well, what think you of 
 Christ ? Your theory does not fit Him. He does not 
 fit into it. He manifestly believed differently, and lived 
 as He believed ; and yet He is without controversy 
 the model of manhood. This question tears moralism 
 up by the roots. In the face of Christ's life it cannot 
 be the right theory of living. So we might go on. I 
 do not believe that there is one here who can put the 
 question honestly to himself without feeling that it 
 touches the very foundation of his character; that it 
 discloses to him infallibly his real condition ; that it 
 either gives him reason for terror before God or reason 
 for joy and hope, so that, as with the Pharisees, his 
 whole life is sifted thoroughly when I ask him, " What 
 think you of Christ?" 
 
WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 53 
 
 What answer, then, should we ourselves give to this 
 question ? Let me suggest in turn some of the answers 
 which might be made in such an audience as this, 
 and let us judge of the sufficiency of these replies in 
 the light of the importance of the question as we have 
 already learned it. 
 
 Perhaps even here there are some who would 
 reply only doubtfully, We think Him an interesting 
 historical character. This is the response often made 
 by the merely literary student. Without in any way 
 accepting Jesus as a Saviour, or even professing to 
 belong to His religion, such a one is unable to with- 
 hold from Him a certain degree of intellectual homage. 
 He sees the force of what we have advanced con- 
 cerning Christ's place in history, in the Bible, and in 
 Christianity. He admits that such a character cannot 
 be passed by with neglect. Intellectual curiosity 
 itself stimulates him to examine the real facts of such 
 a life. It is a response also caught up by others who 
 have little or no intelligent idea of what Jesus taught 
 and did, but who hear so much about Him that 
 they feel forced to regard Him as a remarkable per- 
 sonage. There is nothing easier than to substitute a 
 well-framed eulogy of some minor quality of Christ 
 for the sincere confession of His greater claim, and 
 with this substitute to rest content. 
 
 It is not unfrequent to find men who wholly deny 
 His divinity and His original teaching, loud in a pa- 
 
54 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 tronizing praise of His humanity and His liberal views. 
 They can hardly avoid so much. The evident nobility 
 of character revealed in the story of Jesus compels this 
 much of interest in Him. He evidently was a man who 
 rose far above selfishness and worldliness ; a man who, 
 although belonging to a narrow race, had broad views ; 
 a man, also, who with marvelous purity taught others 
 to worship God. He certainly effected a great change 
 in the history of the world. Though His life was 
 that of a wandering Jewish teacher and His death the 
 shameful death of the cross, yet His name in a few 
 years was written on the grave of the old pagan world 
 and on the standards of the Empire. The enthusiasm 
 which He evoked and evokes still, — the multitudes 
 who find in Him their inspiration to all that is good 
 and pure, — His own gentleness and sympathy, com- 
 bined with stern self-consecration and unflinching 
 obedience to duty,— all these and a hundred other 
 facts mark Him out from among the characters of 
 history as the most wonderful and interesting of 
 them all. 
 
 Renan closes his ridiculous and blasphemous life 
 of Jesus, in which he has sought to reduce the story 
 to the level of a romantic novel, with these admiring 
 words : " Whatever be the surprises of the future, 
 Jesus will never be surpassed ; His worship will grow 
 young without ceasing; His legend will call forth 
 tears without end; His sufferings will melt the noblest 
 
WHAT THINK' YE OF CHRIST 55 
 
 hearts ; all ages will proclaim that among the sons of 
 men there is none born greater than Jesus." 
 
 Do you think in this way of Christ ? But what 
 does it all amount to? What change do these 
 thoughts make in your life? What relation do you 
 sustain to this remarkable character of history ? Does 
 your admiration make you any more like Him ? Does 
 it make you live any nearer to God ? Does it lead 
 you to help on the cause of Jesus Christ? If not, 
 what is it worth ? We answer, Nothing, — except to 
 convict you of inconsistency, — to condemn you out 
 of your own mouth. Here you stand before the most 
 remarkable character of history, — before the grandest 
 moral movement of all time, — before Him who in 
 some way moves more hearts Godward than any 
 other, — and you dare to take the position of an indif- 
 ferent critic and to say complacently, Truly, this is a 
 very interesting spectacle ! Is that a position for a 
 reasonable man to take ? You would better not allow 
 this interesting spectacle to depart from you until you 
 have found out what it means for you. 
 
 But another will perhaps say in answer to our 
 question : " I think Christ a remarkable religious 
 teacher, probably the best religious teacher who has 
 ever lived, but I do not believe that He has been 
 correctly represented by the Church, — I do not believe 
 that the New Testament correctly represents Him. 
 My idea is that He was a simple Jewish peasant, of 
 
56 FAITH AiXD LIFE 
 
 unusual religious insight, who had a real genius for 
 moral teaching, who loved God and man with a super- 
 eminent love, and whose substantial doctrine is ex- 
 pressed in the Golden Rule and in the summary of 
 duty, ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy 
 heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and 
 with all thy strength, and thy neighbor as thyself.' I 
 think that He was led unwisely to play the role of a 
 Messiah, while yet He was in a true sense the Messiah, 
 because He taught true doctrine. He was put to 
 death by the Jewish rulers from jealousy of His popu- 
 larity ; but His disciples afterwards, having been per- 
 suaded that He had risen from the dead, began to 
 deify Him, and attributed to Him gradually all that the 
 New Testament teaches and the Church holds con- 
 cerning Him. I think that His moral and spiritual 
 teaching should be lovingly followed. I think it 
 wonderful that He should have taught so purely and 
 so nobly. I think that all later notions should be laid 
 aside, and that we should learn from Jesus the love of 
 God and the love of man, and should try to live as 
 simply and as beautifully as He seems to have done." 
 Do you think in this way of Christ ? Let me point 
 out a difficulty in your thought. It is tin's. What 
 do you know about Jesus and His teaching except 
 as it is reported in the New Testament ? People say, 
 We will listen to Jesus but we will not listen to His 
 disciples. I answer, How can you listen to Jesus 
 
WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 57 
 
 except as you listen to the reports made by His dis- 
 ciples ? Who wrote these gospels ? Matthew, John — 
 apostles : Mark, Luke — companions and friends of 
 apostles, who gave their apostolic testimony. What 
 else do you know about Jesus ? Have you some 
 independent means of information ? Have you dis- 
 covered some lost manuscript containing another 
 account ? You know nothing about Him except as 
 you believe the apostles. But if they are untrust- 
 worthy in one respect, why not in another ? If they 
 put into His mouth words which He did not utter, 
 how can you receive any of them ? No, you must take 
 all or none. You cannot pick and choose. You can- 
 not distinguish between the veracity of Jesus and the 
 veracity of His apostles. 
 
 " Yes, but I can," you say. " I will take this 
 Gospel story and I will expunge from it everything 
 miraculous and supernatural and I will accept 
 what is left. I cannot believe in miracles. I admit 
 that there must have been some foundation for what 
 the Gospels record, but I think it more natural to 
 suppose that Jesus was such a man as I have de- 
 scribed and that the disciples added the miraculous and 
 supernatural element to the story." But is not this a 
 very arbitrary position to take up? Do you really 
 think it fair to assume that no miracle ever took place 
 no matter what evidence for it is provided ? Does it 
 not seem evident to you that if God did send His Son 
 
58 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 into the world, some miraculous signs would be likely 
 to occur ? Do you really know so much about the 
 laws of the natural world as to be prepared to affirm, 
 " I will never believe in miracles"? And, furthermore, 
 how can you account for the fact that almost immedi- 
 ately after the death of Jesus, when His disciples 
 began to preach to the people, they laid stress not 
 only upon His moral teachings, but on His miracles 
 and the supernatural side of His life? Read Peter's 
 speech at Pentecost. Read the other speeches re- 
 corded in the Acts. Read still more the early Epistles 
 of Paul. In them you will find the Church's idea of 
 Christ full grown. Now it requires time to make 
 myths and to construct legends. In ancient nations 
 mythology was the growth of centuries. But in this 
 case you have to suppose that in a few months what 
 you dare to call the Christian mythology sprang into 
 being in the minds of a few forlorn Jews who were 
 being persecuted for teaching it. No, you cannot 
 forcibly separate the teaching of Christ and that of 
 His apostles. You must take the Christ of the Gospels, 
 or have no Christ at all, or else manufacture one out 
 of your own fancy to suit yourself. You cannot think 
 thus of Christ. You must take Him as He is de- 
 livered unto you, or else say, We will not think of 
 Him at all. 
 
 How, then, should we think of Christ? Can we do 
 better than think of Him as His own apostles did? 
 
WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 59 
 
 Paul wrote, " When the fullness of the time came, 
 God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under 
 the law, that he might redeem them that were under 
 the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons." 
 " In Him dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead 
 bodily." " He is our peace who hath made both 
 one — that He might reconcile both unto God, in one 
 body by the cross." " God was in Christ reconciling 
 the world unto Himself. For He hath made Him to be 
 sin for us who knew no sin, — that we might be made 
 the righteousness of God in Him." Peter confessed at 
 Caesarea Philippi, " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the 
 living God." " To whom can we go ? Thou hast 
 the words of eternal life. " And in his First Epistle 
 he quotes the language of Isaiah, applying it to Jesus, 
 and saying, " Christ suffered for us, leaving us an 
 example." Then John writes in his Gospel still more 
 explicitly, " In the beginning was the Word," " and 
 the Word was God," " and the Word became flesh." 
 Standing in the exile of Patmos, the same apostle de- 
 clares that he beheld the Redeemer on whose breast he 
 had leaned, clothed in indescribable glory, and heard 
 Him say, " I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and 
 the end. I am He that liveth and was dead, and behold 
 I am alive for evermore." 
 
 They thought thus of Christ, and so should we think 
 of Him. This was the truth on which Christianity was 
 founded. This is the truth by which it lives to-day. 
 
60 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 I bring it to you not as a new doctrine of theology. I 
 bring it as a fact of history, which has tremendous 
 meaning to every one of us. It means that, though lost, 
 the way of redemption is open to us. It means that 
 God has descended in J lis Son into the plain of life, and 
 with Him as our helper we may live forever and not 
 die. It means that you have only to cast yourself by 
 faith upon the Mighty One, this Christ of God, and be 
 saved even to the uttermost. It means that no sin is 
 greater than the sin of rejecting Christ. It means that 
 you may say from the heart, " Rock of ages, cleft 
 for me." Victims as you are of sore temptation, 
 trembling as you do on the verge of eternity, immortal 
 and accountable as you are, here is your Saviour. 
 
 I have tried to show you the importance of this 
 question. I have shown that this is the kernel of the 
 Bible, the kernel of Christianity, and the test of char- 
 acter ; and if Christ be what the apostles declared, you 
 can well understand why He is the central theme and 
 thought of all the ages. So I ask you personally, 
 What think you of Christ? I would press home the 
 question. It is like a surgeon's knife, which cuts 
 deeply and skillfully. It is God's home-thrust. You 
 cannot parry it. You must answer it, if not now, 
 then at the judgment day. What think you of Christ ? 
 You men, busy with your professions and your trades 
 — you women, in the home circle and in social pleas- 
 ures — you bitter doubters and you sufferers from pain 
 
WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 6 1 
 
 and death — you all who need so sorely to have heaven 
 brought into your lives now, that when your lives are 
 ended you may enter heaven — what think ye of 
 Christ? Think of His peerless character, think of 
 His tender sympathy, think of His anguish on the 
 cross, think of His resurrection and His glory now ! 
 He is your God-sent Saviour, and will you not accept 
 Him ? You need naught but Him. You are com- 
 plete in Him. Will you not give Him your hearts 
 and your service? Think much of Him. Take Him 
 for your friend. Confess Him and work for Him, and 
 He will confess you. What one of you to-night will 
 say, as you think of Christ, He is my Saviour, my 
 Lord and my God ? 
 
IV 
 
 TOUCHING CHRIST 
 
 "And they besought Him that they might only touch the hem of 
 His garment: and as many as touched were made perfectly whole." — 
 Matt. xiv. 36. 
 
 What an inspiring scene this was ! For the moment 
 we see the man of Nazareth at the height of popular- 
 ity, traversing His native land like a conqueror, while 
 from all the adjacent district throngs of enthusiastic 
 people gather to welcome Him and implore His 
 blessing. He had just astonished the multitude by 
 feeding five thousand men from a few loaves and 
 fishes ; and we know that that miracle produced such 
 an impression that some were for taking Jesus by force 
 and making Him king. The power of the hostile 
 rulers was now at the minimum and Christ's at its 
 maximum, and it would not have been hard, had He 
 wished to do so, for the Saviour to have swept Galilee 
 and Judea by a wave of patriotism, and have placed 
 Himself, as the Maccabees had done, at the head of 
 the nation. 
 
 And now, after that famous miracle, and after 
 He had still further amazed His own disciples by 
 walking to them on the stormy waves, He landed the 
 
 63 
 
64 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 next morning on the western shore of the Sea of 
 Galilee and began to journey rapidly through fields 
 and villages toward the city of Capernaum. As He 
 advanced the throngs of attendants increased until His 
 march became a veritable triumph. They seem to 
 have hastened to avail themselves at once and in every 
 possible way of His unlimited power. They brought 
 their sick friends and laid them by the side of the road 
 along which Jesus was coming. At every village a 
 new crowd awaited Him. At every cross-road, on the 
 banks and in the fields by the way, there stood little 
 companies around some victim of disease ready to 
 thrust the patient on the notice of Jesus. Yonder we 
 see one sick of the palsy borne by friends, or reaching 
 a trembling arm in supplication for relief; yonder, too, 
 another coming from a fever-bed ; there, one possessed, 
 chained, perhaps, and led unwillingly to Him at whose 
 word even devils trembled and obeyed ; and again the 
 leper, at a distance from the road, seeking to conceal 
 himself from the people but to show himself to the 
 Christ, and raising his shrill voice in prayer for pity. 
 And to all the desired help comes. As many as 
 touched Him were made perfectly whole, and many, 
 too, we doubt not, who could not touch Him save by 
 the hand of faith. 
 
 The scene, I say, is one to rouse our own enthusi- 
 asm, as it did that of the people. It was as truly a 
 triumphal march as that which afterward Christ made 
 
TOUCHING CHRIST 65 
 
 over Olivet into Jerusalem, The word " triumph " is 
 the only one which is worthy to be given it, but it 
 significantly contrasts with such triumphs as those 
 with which the world has honored its illustrious men. 
 What a contrast, for example, between these journeys of 
 Jesus and a Roman triumph ! We picture the great 
 capital dressed in its holiday garments ; the peasants of 
 Italy thronging with the citizens the narrow streets ; 
 the whole populace abandoning itself to joy and often 
 license. We picture the triumphal procession : golden 
 chariots drawn by white horses ; garlands of flowers 
 scattered in profusion under the wheels of the hero's 
 car ; the bronzed legions who survive from the long 
 and fierce war ; and in the centre of all, the proud com- 
 mander who has made barbarians tremble at the name 
 of Rome, and who now haughtily condescends to 
 receive the gratitude of his fellow-citizens. But as 
 the procession wends its way up the Capitoline hill 
 that the Caesar may offer his sacrifice to the god, we 
 note amid his train the slaves torn from distant homes 
 to become his chattels ; we note the scars borne 
 by his warriors in testimony of the awful perils of 
 battle; we think of others left dead in the far East 
 or on the bleak shores of the northern sea ; we fear 
 that by such a display as this the Csesar is riveting 
 fetters on the liberties of his country ; and we conclude 
 for all its emblazoned pomp that this is in reality the 
 triumph of mere passion, ambition, cruelty and crime. 
 
66 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 But as we behold the triumph of Jesus, how different 
 our thought! It is the triumph of love, it is the 
 deliverance of the captive ; it scatters healing bene- 
 dictions on its way ; it is the proclamation of liberty 
 from God. And surely we must feel that the round 
 globe has never seen so grand a march as this hasty 
 walk of the humble Son of God through Galilee to 
 Capernaum. This surely was the day of which the 
 prophet wrote, " Arise, shine; for thy Light is come, 
 and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee." 
 
 Now I wish, of course, to regard this scene as pic- 
 turing a spiritual truth. It is our belief that Christ is 
 now the one source of all spiritual blessings to man- 
 kind ; that He is as truly present among men now as 
 when He walked the roads of Galilee ; that it is as 
 possible now to touch Him as it was then ; and that we 
 are as likely to receive the influence of His power. This 
 is the central fact and doctrine of Christianity. Christ 
 is the center of all good; and the one need of human 
 hearts, in their weakness and sin, is to be brought into 
 personal, loving contact with this Son of God and man. 
 Hence the significance for all time of such a scene 
 as this ; and if I can show you how man may touch 
 Christ, and where Christ is to be found, it will not 
 be in vain that we have looked upon this picture 
 from His earthly life. 
 
 Let us note, first, the spirit and temper which these 
 people displayed. From it may we gather what is 
 
TOUCHING CHRIST 67 
 
 the state of mind in which we may hope to come, 
 in our way, likewise into personal contact with 
 Jesus Christ. We may infer, at the start, that the 
 experience of Christ's presence depends on ourselves. 
 He is always here and everywhere ; and, therefore, 
 the reason why some touch and are blessed by 
 Him, and others do not, is because of the difference 
 in the state of mind between the two classes. The 
 spiritual discovery of Christ is dependent on our own 
 hearts, just as contact with truth of any kind de- 
 pends on us, not on it. He is always ready to make 
 Himself known, but we are not always ready to 
 perceive Him. From the minds of these Galilean 
 peasants we may learn the great secret. The scene 
 before us may be likened to a revival of religion ; 
 and we all know that in the latter we discover the 
 tests and the means of finding God. We realize 
 that success in the great search turns on what we 
 are ; and hence the first thing to be learned is, what 
 must there be in our hearts to open the way to the 
 feet of Jesus. 
 
 I say, " in our hearts ; " for we should find that to 
 touch Christ really is far more the work of the heart 
 than of the intellect. It is sometimes imagined that 
 He can be found through mere investigation and 
 reason. This is the way of the student. He follows 
 the path of history back to the spot where Christ 
 is met. He investigates His life ; examines the con- 
 
68 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 ditions of His age ; seeks to sift the evidence for His 
 reported works and sayings : and concludes forth- 
 with that Jesus either is or is not what His followers 
 assert. Such a process is necessary, and should 
 be undertaken by all who can undertake it; but 
 be it remembered that it is not personal contact 
 with Christ. The investigation may result in the 
 fullest confession of Christ's truth, and yet the in- 
 vestigator may not have touched Him in any 
 spiritual sense. With his intellectual conviction he 
 may turn away almost as little helped in soul by 
 the influence of Jesus as though he had gazed at Him 
 from a great distance. 
 
 On the other hand, it is sometimes imagined that 
 the soul will necessarily touch Christ by using those 
 introductory appliances of religion in which Christ's 
 people are wont to express their love and faith. I 
 mean the ordinances of religion — the word, the 
 Church, the sacraments, prayer. In all of these, as 
 I shall show directly, Christ is to be found ; but not 
 necessarily, and never if we use them in the wrong 
 way. Again, therefore, we are thrown back on our 
 own hearts, as that on which the touching of Christ 
 depends. They are the eyes, with which we see, and 
 the ears, with which we hear. They are the fingers, 
 with which we reach forward. If a man would find 
 the benefit of Christ, would feel Christ's influence for 
 good, he must, first of all, see that his own heart is 
 
TOUCHING CHRIST 69 
 
 in such a state as, from our text, we learn that the 
 hearts of these Galilean peasants were. It is a mat- 
 ter of individual spiritual life. 
 
 When we consider them, we find that the condi- 
 tions of the soul's touching Christ are very simple, 
 and consist of but two things : on the one hand, a 
 real, earnest, honest desire for Christ's gift, and, on 
 the other, implicit confidence that He can and will 
 give it. Desire and trust : that is all the secret. 
 Real want and simple trust. What easier than 
 these, one would think ! And yet how they probe 
 into and reprove our common ways of seeking Him ! 
 
 For the desire which succeeds in finding Christ is 
 no languid, half-hearted wish, but real spiritual long- 
 ing. Look again at the scene pictured in the text. 
 Those people clearly knew what they wanted. They 
 had certain specific ills for which they sought relief. 
 These ills were the pressing afflictions of their lives — 
 matters, perhaps, of life and death to them ; and their 
 desire for Christ's gift had all the intensity in it with 
 which a man seeks health and strength. If this be 
 the type of an inquirer's mind, how different is it 
 from what we commonly behold. We cannot see 
 the hearts of men ; but only here and there do we 
 seem to see those who long for Christ and God 
 as for their lives, and hence it is no wonder that so 
 few possess the key which will open the door of His 
 presence-chamber. And, moreover, in this matter we 
 
/O FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 should remember that our desire should be directly 
 for Christ's blessing. We often err in this. We want 
 the consequences of religion, but not religion itself. 
 We want the gain of godliness, but not godliness 
 itself. We desire deliverance from punishment, but 
 not deliverance from sin. In our text, however, the 
 diseases of which these Galileans complained are 
 pictures of our spiritual diseases, of our sins and 
 weaknesses, and, therefore, the desire which finds 
 Christ must be for their cure. No man will ever 
 really touch the mighty Saviour who is not filled 
 with a longing for a pure, Christ-like life so strong 
 as to be the chief motive of his mind. 
 
 Is it not true that God is always found less by 
 the intellect than by the heart ? You may prove 
 His existence and discuss His nature by the reason; 
 but you know Him by the heart. You may likewise 
 prove and discuss a doctrine of Christianity, such as that 
 of the Providence of God ; but you never feel it to be 
 true till in your life you discover that He actually has 
 led and protected you. You may prove and investigate 
 a force of nature, determine its power and its properties ; 
 but you cannot know it thus as you would do if you 
 used it for practical purposes or came under its actual 
 influence. And so it is with God. The pure in heart, 
 they shall see Him. They that seek for Him as silver 
 and search as for hid treasure, they shall find out the 
 knowledge of God. He reveals Himself to the heart 
 
TOUCHING CHRIST ?l 
 
 of man. We feel Him ; we do not see Him. We 
 experience Him ; we do not merely demonstrate 
 Him. You will come far nearer God by sinking into 
 the depths of a pure heart than by ascending to the 
 loftiest height of philosophy and reason. And, there- 
 fore, with His Son the same rule holds. Earnest 
 desire, the longing of a heart for holiness, the sin- 
 cere wish to be free from the moral disease of life — 
 this is the strength of arm by which we may touch. 
 By this, and by this alone, are we able to exert 
 aright that faith which in its turn is the hand which 
 we actually lay on the hem of His garment as He 
 passes by. 
 
 Then, to our desire we must add implicit trust, in 
 order to come into close and helpful contact with the 
 Lord Jesus. If a man have real, earnest longing for 
 Christ's gift, and then simply trust Christ's promise, 
 he is sure to find Christ able to save, and Christ will 
 fill that man's heart with His blessing, and he will 
 feel that he has found the source and giver of spiritual 
 life. Truly, it is marvellous how simple are the means 
 by which the greatest good possible to man may be 
 had. It was a simple thing to touch the hem of 
 Christ's garment, and yet the very simplicity of the 
 act attests the strong confidence these people had in 
 His power. It is a no less simple thing to rest upon 
 His power and promise now ; and yet this also attests 
 a strong and childlike confidence. 
 
72 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Of course, the doubting spirit will at once rise up and 
 say, You are believing with the credulity of children. 
 You are trusting without any guarantee. What you 
 imagine to be Christ's blessing, is in truth but the prod- 
 uct of your own mind. Even if so, wc reply, the product 
 is a good one, come whence it may ; better far than 
 the product of doubt. But it is not credulity. If there 
 has ever been any one who, by character and by His 
 acts, and by the world's knowledge of Him, has proved 
 Himself worthy of confidence, that person is Jesus. 
 Was it credulity in these Galilean peasants to trust 
 Him, when on the day before He had fed five thousand 
 men with five loaves and a few fishes ? And is it 
 credulity in us to trust Him, when through eighteen 
 hundred years He has fed and blessed millions more? 
 We think not ; and we are sure that the light and 
 peace and purity which flow into our hearts when by 
 faith they touch Jesus are not illusions, but are the 
 real fulfillment of His promise and the proof of His 
 claim that " all power and authority are His, in heaven 
 and on earth." 
 
 If these conditions be present, it is possible, I say, 
 to touch Jesus Christ. There will be all the effect 
 as if the touch were physical. The mind will grasp 
 His thought, the heart respond to His command, the 
 truth dawn clear and bright. Here, then, is the 
 way to perform this sublime act. Christ Jesus is not 
 inaccessible. These poor, conscience-smitten, sinful 
 
TOUCHING CHRIST 73 
 
 souls about us may feel the virtue of the great Healer. 
 He is nigh unto all them that call upon Him. He is 
 with us alway, even to the end of the world. There 
 is this remedy for human ill and sin, and it will be as 
 glad a day for a man now if he touch in reality the 
 mighty Christ as it was for those men and women of 
 Galilee. Real desire and simple faith — these are the 
 whole secret. Faith the hand, and desire the strength 
 which extends the hand. Only believe; only accept 
 it as true, and it will prove itself to be true. This is 
 the lesson which, with all our culture and knowledge, 
 we have need to learn from the afflicted crowds on 
 which on that bright day the healing power fell from 
 Jesus as He passed through His native land. 
 
 But you will ask, Where is Christ to be found ? 
 On what road is He now journeying ; what corners 
 and through what villages will He be likely to pass ? 
 So we may imagine the Galilean peasants asking, and 
 in similar phrase is the question put still. We might 
 reply, of course, that He is everywhere, and this would 
 undoubtedly be true. And yet He still would be a 
 vague and indistinct figure to many minds. It is hard 
 to grasp the thought of omnipresence. We must 
 localize even divinity itself, and there are by God's 
 good providence certain places where Jesus is expected 
 to be found, and where our desire and faith may sen- 
 sibly lay hold upon Him. There are stations, as it 
 were, on the great world's highway ; and to come to 
 
74 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 these in order to touch Jesus is the special invitation 
 that we bring. 
 
 So we say that with desire and faith you may touch 
 Christ in the Bible. Were we to take you without ex- 
 planation into a great palace, show you its massive walls, 
 its magnificent corridors and halls, and point out the 
 handiwork of ancient days, and then show how poster- 
 ity has added to the art and invention of antiquity, you 
 would ask, For whom is all this magnificence, and to 
 whom does the structure belong? The answer would 
 be given by taking you finally into the presence of the 
 king. So when science shows you the marvels of the 
 human body, explains how the tissue is a mass of 
 minute cells, how the blood courses through the 
 arteries and veins, how each bone and muscle has its 
 exact part to play, and how nature has lavished its 
 choicest skill in the construction of such a delicate 
 machine, you naturally ask, For what purpose has this 
 wonderful organism been made ? And we think that 
 in spite of all skepticism we should be right in answer- 
 ing, it has been made for the habitation of an immortal 
 soul ; and though you cannot see or touch the soul, 
 the body is but the soul's garment, through which its 
 power issues forth. 
 
 In much the same way would we lead you to the 
 Bible. We show you in it a piece of literature whose 
 early parts reach back in date of composition to 
 remote ages. We show you choice historical records, 
 
TOUCHING CHRIST 7$ 
 
 the literature of a people which has affected more 
 than any other the moral sentiment of the world. 
 Here are materials for research the like of which 
 are scarcely matched by the hieroglyphs of Egypt 
 or the bricks of Nineveh. Here are ancient songs 
 that utter the noblest aspirations of the human 
 heart ; and here are prophetic visions by which the 
 eye of antiquity looked dimly into the future. Above 
 all, here is a sturdy, inflexible love of righteousness, 
 faith in God and in His government, which stand in 
 marked contrast to all other literature that has de- 
 scended from the remote past. And now by a singular 
 providence the literature has been completed by the 
 story of the early days of the Gospel, and the whole 
 has been preserved and united into one volume, 
 and if you ask why, we answer that it may reveal and 
 explain and exhibit Jesus Christ. For nothing else 
 has it been done, since this purpose includes all lesser 
 ones. He is its Alpha and its Omega. I need not 
 demonstrate this, though I am persuaded that few have 
 any just idea of how extensively and completely Christ 
 underlies the surface of Scripture. You may find 
 Him everywhere. It is Christ who sanctifies the Bible. 
 It is Christ who certifies to us that the Bible is from 
 God. It is Christ who gives the Bible its value, its 
 power to purify society, its authority to regulate belief. 
 Never can I impress too deeply on your minds the 
 truth that He is the sum and the substance, the 
 
76 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 author and the subject, the centre and the soul of 
 this great Book. 
 
 Now if a man have no deep desire for Christ and 
 have a skeptical, doubting spirit concerning Christ, 
 he may come to the Bible itself and possibly not 
 touch Jesus. It may be that its nobility of sentiment 
 and the influence of its subject will overcome his 
 doubt. But it may not; just as I suppose that some 
 even among those Galilean peasants sneered at the 
 enthusiasm and faith of their companions, and of 
 course won no benefit, even as they asked for none. 
 But my point now simply is that desire and faith 
 do touch Christ in the Bible. They find themselves 
 satisfied with His character and with His promises. 
 He is such a Saviour as they need. They find them- 
 selves purified and elevated by contact with Him. He 
 inspires their noblest thoughts ; He overcomes the 
 power of sin ; He shines as a light in the midst of 
 darkness. Oh, what multitudes can testify this day 
 that they have thus met and touched Jesus Christ 
 and have been healed by Him. 
 
 Moreover, we say that desire and faith may touch 
 Jesus in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. We do 
 not, indeed, belong to the number of those who hold 
 that the Lord's Supper conveys some mysterious 
 benefit which cannot elsewhere be had. We believe 
 quite the contrary. God has not limited His grace 
 to such formal channels. Just as we believe that God 
 
TOUCHING CHRIST -J J 
 
 may be known elsewhere than in the Bible, as we 
 believe that nature is eloquent with His praises and 
 the human conscience echoes His law, so do we 
 believe that Christ may be approached in other ways, 
 and be, in His own language, eaten by other means 
 than in the sacrament. But at the same time, as the 
 Bible more clearly reveals God than nature and con- 
 science do, so does the soul often draw nearer to 
 Christ in the Supper than at other times. It is a 
 service of His own commanding, and the very loyalty 
 which leads a man for Christ's sake to observe it is 
 likely to insure a special benediction therein. It sets 
 Him forth also by the aid of visible symbols, and so 
 leads the mind, which always needs help in grasping 
 things invisible, into a more vivid sense of divine things. 
 In short, here is an appointed place and time for 
 meeting Christ, an appointment which I think no sin- 
 sick soul ought to neglect, and in which multitudes 
 have found peace and comfort. 
 
 And it is evident that the sacrament of the Lord's 
 Supper is emphatically the exhibition of Christ. 
 What gives it power ? That its minister is an or- 
 dained man ? No. It could be celebrated with as 
 much benefit by those on whom no ordaining 
 hands have ever been laid. Does its power lie in a 
 priestly blessing, in a miracle of change, in any un- 
 natural fact behind the obvious symbols themselves ? 
 It does not. Does it lie, then, in some special 
 
78 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 virtue in the recipient, in his goodness, his fitness, his 
 moral likeness to Christ? Again we answer, not so, — 
 save as by fitness be meant that desire and faith which 
 we have already found to be the universal condition 
 of touching Christ, and which here, as elsewhere, are 
 necessary. Wherein, then, lies the power of the 
 sacrament? We answer, in its exhibition of Christ. 
 He is " represented, sealed, and applied to believers." 
 Here men realize what He was and is, what He did 
 and does. Here the soul by vivid signs and pictures, 
 and by the aid, we doubt not also, of the Holy Spirit, 
 lays hold, as we say, on Him. It touches Him. It 
 looks upon His face. It feels its true position in His 
 sight. It believes His word. It feeds on His flesh 
 and blood. It eats the living manna, and it may know, 
 as multitudes again have found, that he that eateth 
 His flesh and drinketh His blood, by real faith, hath 
 eternal life. This is the bread of God that came 
 down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof and 
 not die. 
 
 Nor are the Scriptures and the Sacraments the 
 only places by any means where Jesus may be met 
 and touched. At every spot where men engage in 
 prayer and earnest thought there is Jesus to be found. 
 I presume that every earnest Christian here has found 
 that at times his prayer and meditation have been bar- 
 ren and formal, while at other times they have been 
 full of power and refreshment. The spiritual life is 
 
TOUCHING CHRIST 79 
 
 subject to a like change of mood with the common 
 mental life. It has its ebb and its flood tides, its 
 good and its poor seasons, its rainy and its dry- 
 months. There are times when we may be said to 
 wander long and far in search of the great Healer; 
 and again there are times when we can go directly 
 to His feet. This is true of prayer, and the same 
 holds true, likewise, of thought or meditation. 
 
 I doubt if most of us realize as we should 
 that meditation is as much a means of grace as 
 prayer. We are too busy, commonly, to think long 
 upon religious themes ; we are too weary with daily 
 work to think hard upon them ; and so our lives are 
 not fruitful, until by some event God forces us to 
 think, and it may be to think bitterly. Earnest 
 thought is as much a place of meeting with Jesus as is 
 the mercy seat : and yet it, too, has its times of power 
 and of barrenness. Now the mind cannot fix itself on 
 divine things, or can do so only in a cold and formal 
 way ; and now again, thought springs unbidden to 
 the mind ; memory paints its glowing pictures, and a 
 keen intelligence of the Spirit interprets and applies 
 them : and in so doing the soul draws near to God. 
 
 What, then, we ask, is the secret of the power of 
 prayer and meditation ? What is it that in its suc- 
 cessful moments the praying and thinking soul finds ? 
 On what, on whom, has faith laid its living hand ? 
 What form is that, which in the darkness, we feel but 
 
80 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 cannot see? What influence is this which surrounds 
 us like a breath of heavenly air? Whence comes 
 this strength, this joy, this vision of infinite brightness ? 
 Ah, poor soul that does not know the magic form ! 
 This is Jesus, who was dead and is alive again, and 
 now is fulfilling His promise of perpetual presence. 
 To touch the Son of God thus is the highest glory 
 which a man can have. He has seen the Lord. 
 He has touched the Lord, and he has obtained what 
 ought to be to him the strongest possible evidence 
 that Christ is able to save. How, then, can he doubt 
 it ? Once, perhaps, like Thomas, he cried, " Except 
 I shall see in His hands the print of the nails and 
 thrust my hand into His side I will not believe." But 
 now to him as to Thomas, Christ has revealed Him- 
 self. He has said in effect, " Reach hither thy finger, 
 and behold My hands ; and reach hither thy hand, and 
 thrust it into My side : and be not faithless, but believ- 
 ing." He has made Himself known to His disciples 
 as He does not unto the world. Their desire and faith 
 have found Him in prayer and thought, and they 
 may again exclaim with Thomas, " My Lord and 
 my God." 
 
 Now I have pointed out to you how and where 
 Christ may be met and touched ; and I have only 
 to add that it is as true now as of old that " as 
 many as touch Him are made perfectly whole." We 
 might describe the joy which filled many hearts on 
 
TOUCHING CHRIST 8 1 
 
 that fair morning in Galilee when the sick and the 
 helpless, whom friends had put in the way of Jesus, 
 sprang up in the vigor of restored health. We should 
 see here a leper, scarcely believing that his awful curse 
 was gone ; there a victim of possession, marvelling at 
 the pure and natural life which he had found again ; 
 the blind gratefully beholding the blessed face of Him 
 who was indeed God's messenger to him, and thinking 
 it more beautiful than even those of friends or than the 
 fair scene about him. What joy, we say, came that 
 day to many homes in Galilee, as the gift of the Son 
 of man ! 
 
 And we might show a larger picture, in which a 
 greater multitude would be represented, out of every 
 condition and people, once sick with worse diseases 
 than even leprosy, burdened with worse sorrows than 
 disease — outcasts, some of them, and by their side 
 others from homes of wealth, but with souls no less 
 defiled, yet now cleansed and purified and saved. It 
 is that picture which John paints of the great mul- 
 titude whom no man can number, clothed in white 
 robes, with palms in the hand, but whose garments 
 are white because dyed in blood, and who sing " Sal- 
 vation unto our God and to the Lamb." Such a 
 picture illustrates our text : " As many as touched 
 Him were made perfectly whole." 
 
 How so, you say, when even those who have found 
 Him in the Word, and in the Sacraments, and in 
 
 6 
 
82 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Prayer, are still conscious of sin? We answer, 
 Because their guilt is washed away by His blood ; 
 their sins are forgiven them for His sake ; the robe 
 they wear is His righteousness, not their own, and 
 the palms they wave are for His triumph, not for 
 theirs. Instantaneous and everlasting has been His 
 gift of eternal life ; and already the poison of sin has 
 been abstracted, the root of evil has been removed ; 
 already the pure life is dominating over the impure, 
 and the resistance of sin to goodness in the heart is 
 becoming feeble ; the leprosy is dying away, and soon, 
 yea soon, in that heavenly kingdom there will not be 
 a trace of its former presence. But because the cure 
 is in this sense gradual, it is none the less true that in 
 the other sense it is instantaneous and complete. 
 Christ transforms life to a man. He opens a new 
 world. He fills the heart with spiritual power. He 
 wakens new thoughts, new loves, new desires. The 
 old man falls off, a new creature in all essential prin- 
 ciples takes its place. This is conversion ; this is 
 regeneration ; this is the new creation ; these are the 
 moments in which we find God and draw near to the 
 Source of life ; and this whole result comes simply 
 from the fact that by honest desire and faith our souls 
 have touched Jesus, the Son of God! 
 
 I call on you, who are His people, to keep your- 
 selves near this Christ, and again and again renew 
 your strength by touching His omnipotent person. 
 
TOUCHING CHRIST 83 
 
 And I call on you, who are yet sin-sick, who are yet 
 unhealed — I call on you, as these Galileans must have 
 called on their sick friends on that famous day, to 
 come, and come quickly ; come, put yourself in the 
 way ; come, reach out your trembling hand. For, as 
 the multitude said to Bartimaeus, Jesus of Nazareth 
 is passing by! You need all that He has to give; 
 why, oh why, tarry till you have found and touched 
 and been healed by the Son of God ? 
 
V 
 
 BEHOLD YOUR GOD 
 
 " O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high moun- 
 tain ; O Jerusalem, that bringest good tidings, lift up thy voice with 
 strength ; lift it up, be not afraid ; say unto the cities of Judah, Behold 
 your God ! " — Isaiah xl. 9. 
 
 We should do great injustice to the Old Testament 
 prophets if we regarded them merely as predictors 
 of future events. To us, indeed, who are chiefly- 
 concerned with later events, and who find in their 
 prediction evidence of the truth of both prediction 
 and fulfilment, this element naturally assumes an im- 
 portant place in our view of the prophets. But from 
 the prophets' own point of view this was a secon- 
 dary part of their work. Their mission was primarily 
 to the men of their own day. They were raised up 
 by God to proclaim to the various generations of 
 Israel the eternal law of righteousness ; the reality and 
 authority of God; the certainty of judgment and 
 award ; the gracious purpose of God with Israel. 
 They were preachers, political and social reformers, 
 religious statesmen. Each one of them deserves to 
 be studied by himself, that his peculiar personality 
 may appear, framed in the particular circumstances 
 
 85 
 
86 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 of Israel in his day. Such a study will result in a 
 gallery of portraits than which none more instruc- 
 tive and various can be found in all the museum of 
 history. 
 
 Of course, treating of such subjects, the prophets 
 continually pointed Israel to the future ; and, being in- 
 spired of God, they gave utterance to not a few specific 
 and marvellous predictions. But these will be valued 
 aright only when the immediate purposes of prophecy 
 are put in the foreground. He who would read the 
 prophets of the Old Testament should not be on the 
 watch for wonderful predictions, but should rather lay 
 hold on the moral and religious ideas which those 
 mighty men of God enunciated to the men of their 
 own age, and through them to us; and because of 
 which their faces were ever looking toward that which 
 was to come. 
 
 These remarks are preeminently true of the prophet 
 Isaiah. No man, indeed, was ever transported further 
 into the future than was he. None perceived more 
 clearly both the immediate and the remote conse- 
 quences of the course in which events were running. 
 No man ever more certainly saw through the veil 
 of futurity that he might describe, sometimes in 
 singular detail, the events beyond it. No inspired 
 writer has more perfectly met the spiritual needs of the 
 generations that have followed him. And yet not on 
 them and their needs, but on those of the livinsr Israel 
 
BEHOLD YOUR GOD «7 
 
 around him, were Isaiah's thoughts fixed. Over the 
 sins of his age he lamented. Against the unbelief of 
 Ahaz he directed his rebukes. With Hezekiah he 
 guided the reformation which that prince effected. 
 His object was to call the people back at once to God ; 
 to remedy the moral evils of his day ; to revive the 
 faith of Israel in Jehovah's covenant and promise. 
 
 It was for this that he directed the eyes of the faith- 
 ful to that sublime hope of the nation unto which, as he 
 reassured them, in spite of suffering and even by means 
 of suffering, the servant of God should attain. Savona- 
 rola, thundering against the immoralities of Florence 
 and rebuking alike the Medici and the pope, was not 
 more a preacher to his day than Isaiah under Ahaz 
 was to his. Luther, guiding the Protestant reforma- 
 tion under the protection of the Elector of Saxony, 
 was not more concerned with the immediate issues 
 of the hour than was Isaiah under King Hezekiah. 
 Therefore, we shall best understand Isaiah if we re- 
 gard him as thus bearing to a degenerate nation and 
 a fainting church the message of divine righteousness. 
 We are to conceive of him as a man whose mind was 
 full of the thought of God. 
 
 One day there had come to him a vision of Jehovah 
 in the temple, seated on His throne, ministered unto 
 by seraphim, who cried, with veiled faces, Holy, Holy, 
 Holy ! On that day a live coal from the altar of 
 Jehovah had seemed to be laid upon the prophet's lips, 
 
88 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 that thenceforth he might utter burning words. He 
 became from that moment a herald of God. Against 
 all sin he declared God's anger ; against all doubt he 
 declared God's promise; against all danger he declared 
 God's faithfulness ; against all foes he declared God's 
 power. This was the substance of his message. This 
 was the burden of his soul. He was made a revealer 
 of God to men. The people were prone to worship 
 idols. Isaiah proclaimed that there is one only God. 
 The court was prone to make alliances with pagan 
 powers, to tremble before pagan armies, and to truckle 
 to pagan compliments. Isaiah proclaimed that the 
 only hope for Israel lay in God. This single but com- 
 prehensive truth seems, I say, to have been the burden 
 of Isaiah's thought ; from it he drew his predictions, 
 whether of salvation or of punishment. The character 
 of God was his only stronghold ; the being of God 
 the foundation of truth and of Israel; and, therefore, 
 when, in view of coming calamities, he sought to 
 uphold the faith of the loyal remnant of the people, 
 our text was again the substance of all his message. 
 It was designed to comfort and to stimulate. It 
 echoed the old word on which Abraham had fed, and 
 David, too : " O thou that bringest good tidings to 
 Zion," he cried, " O thou that bringest good tidings to 
 Jerusalem : lift up thy voice with strength ; lift it up, 
 be not afraid." This is the source of all consolation, 
 of all hope, of all spiritual life. " Say unto the cities 
 
BEHOLD YOUR GOD 89 
 
 of Judah, Behold your God ! " To Isaiah's mind that 
 was the all-sufficient word. 
 
 And so, I think, it should seem to our minds. 
 This is the all-complete, the all-sufficient word. This 
 is, after all, the simple object of the Bible. The Bible 
 is not merely a revelation from God ; it is also and 
 more especially a revelation of God. Have you so 
 thought of it? It is the unveiling of the hidden deity. 
 It is the showing to us what God is. From this will 
 follow what we are to do. But the object of the 
 Bible is not to anticipate the future and not to answer 
 curious questions. It is to reveal God, that we may 
 go back to Him, and love and trust and revere Him. 
 Its message is emphatically just this of Isaiah — Be- 
 hold your God ! Let me try to make you feel what 
 this language suggests. 
 
 And I should like first to ask if this simple mes- 
 sage is not one which men greatly need to have 
 nakedly presented to them? Is it not true that to 
 most men God is not a felt reality ? There are few, 
 indeed, who would openly express unbelief in God. 
 Blank atheism is very uncommon. But the more re- 
 fined agnosticism, which is so often in these days ex- 
 pressed, would seem to testify that many people have 
 the feeblest possible sense of God's reality. To many 
 men of the world He is a dogma of which they sel- 
 dom seriously think ; or a tradition which they do not 
 disown, but the truth of which they seldom realize. 
 
90 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 He is a reserved belief, perhaps, which they keep in 
 a dark corner of their mind and seldom look at — an 
 assumed but neglected fact — an occasional cause of 
 fear. But He is not a living reality. He does not 
 affect their conduct as their next neighbors do. He 
 does not encourage and restrain them as even their 
 casual acquaintances do. In no fair sense is He real- 
 ized; still less is His friendship cultivated. How few 
 there are who actually share the sentiments about 
 God uttered by prophets and apostles and saints! 
 How few of all these needy multitudes can say, " God 
 is our refuge and strength ! " How few of all our 
 dependent, dying humanity can feel, " In Him we live 
 and move and have our being ! " How few can sing, 
 
 " My God, my life, my love, 
 To thee, to thee, I call, 
 I cannot live if thou remove, 
 For thou art all in all." 
 
 This is a poor blind world : and the reality of all 
 realities, how few there are who feel ! 
 
 Yet is it not true that this loving sense of God, 
 as we may call it, is the specific difference between a 
 really good and a really bad life ? Try to analyze the 
 characters of men and discover the precise thing which 
 radically separates between the good and the evil. It 
 is not that some are moral and others immoral ; for 
 men may be moral and yet have thoroughly worldly 
 and irreligious minds. It is not that some are sinless 
 
BEHOLD YOUR GOD 9 I 
 
 and others sinful, for no one can be found perfectly 
 pure. It is not that the good hold to one creed and 
 the bad to another ; for men may hold to a good creed 
 but not live up to it. What shall we say is the differ- 
 ence between them — if we look behind actions to 
 motives ; if we take into consideration the inner as 
 well as the outer life ? Is it not this, that the good 
 think of God, and try to please Him, and cultivate His 
 fellowship and mourn over whatever grieves Him ? Is 
 not this the root-fact of moral character ? The wicked 
 are those who have not God in their thoughts ; who 
 do not willingly draw near to Him. Goodness, on the 
 contrary, is godliness. The good man is the one to 
 whom God has been practically revealed — in whom 
 God has become a power for righteousness ; whose 
 sense of God is acute and constant. Like Enoch, 
 he " walks with God." Like David, he meditates upon 
 God. Like John, he loves Him. 
 
 For I beg you to consider that this sense of God 
 is not obtained by an exercise of the intellect. It is a 
 moral sense, like the sense of right and wrong; and 
 therefore it affects a man's whole life and character. 
 The human mind can, I believe, logically prove the 
 existence of God ; but who in the world was ever led 
 to live a godly life by such a proof? The intellect can 
 likewise prove, I believe, that there is a fundamental 
 difference between right and wrong ; but who was ever 
 led to do right by such argumentation ? It is the 
 
92 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 sense of right itself which constrains to the doing of it. 
 One man will have a sensitive conscience and another 
 will not, and therefore one will obey and the other 
 disobey. And so, to see God requires a spiritual 
 awakening. 
 
 How it comes, the human mind hardly knows. 
 The Bible tells us that it is the work of the Holy 
 Spirit. There comes to a man more or less of this 
 sense of God. God reveals Himself to His child. 
 We are not told that the intellectually strong but 
 that the pure in heart shall see God. The con- 
 science is quickened. The heart becomes appreci- 
 ative of goodness and purity. The finite soul feels 
 itself in the hands of the Infinite. The child realizes 
 his Father's unseen presence. It is a complex feeling, 
 but it is chiefly a moral, not an intellectual, fact. And 
 therefore this sense of God determines the whole of 
 life. Because of it a man will strive to live for what 
 God approves. It will affect his thinking and his 
 acting, his inner and his outer life. He is not yet 
 sinless by any means, but he is in a fair way to become 
 so. The root of holiness has been planted. He has 
 found God, and that is the real difference between the 
 good and the bad ; that is the beginning of heaven and 
 of holiness and of peace. 
 
 If this be so, then what the Bible calls eternal life 
 may be entered upon even here and while we are still 
 on earth. This we should infer from what the Bible 
 
BEHOLD YOUR GOD 93 
 
 says. " This is life eternal, to know Thee, the only 
 true God, and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent." 
 Let a man come to know God, let him enter into 
 this divine friendship of which I have spoken, and 
 he already has eternal life. Jesus said, " Whosoever 
 heareth my words and believeth on Him that sent me, 
 hath everlasting life " ; not shall have it hereafter, but 
 has it now ; in the very fact of believing, eternal life 
 has already begun. I want you to feel that you may 
 and must have this living sense of God here on earth ; 
 that you may carry it with you not as a shadowy 
 terror, but as your sweetest, dearest treasure ; and 
 that if you have it, then you have found life. For 
 around it all that is good and noble and pure will 
 gather, as the verdure of the oasis gathers round a 
 living spring. 
 
 What is our need, then, but to behold God — to 
 feel His presence, to admire His beauty, to enjoy His 
 friendship, to obey His will ? I tell you, this is the 
 secret of life. Perhaps you think merely of escaping 
 punishment. Believe me, if that be all that moves 
 you, you are as far from happiness as ever. You 
 think, perhaps, to be moral but not religious. Believe 
 me, morality, great as it is, will not meet the deep- 
 est needs of your immortal spirits. You think, it 
 may be, of even less laudable helps. You think that 
 philosophy will support you, or human love bless 
 you, or churchly rites sanctify you. But no ! Soul 
 
94 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 of man, your need is deeper; the secret of life is still 
 undiscovered by you ; you need God ! You need 
 to realize Him — you need to love Him ! This is the 
 great law of spiritual life; for this the Bible has been 
 given ; for this the Saviour died ; for this the Spirit 
 is working. Let us face the whole truth and be 
 satisfied with nothing less. I am not asking any 
 great spiritual attainment. I am not pleading for 
 anything fantastic or unnatural. This is the most 
 practical, most fundamental of facts. Eternal life for 
 the human soul is, and can be, found only in life with 
 God. And therefore the old prophet, in his short, 
 simple exhortation, gives the plainest and most direct 
 of Gospels when he cries to men in their manifest 
 and bitter needs, " Behold your God ! " 
 
 But if so, then let us look directly at the revelation 
 of Himself which God has made to us through the 
 Bible, or, rather, of which the Bible is the depository, 
 in order that we may be able to perceive more dis- 
 tinctly the object to which the prophet points us. 
 Isaiah bade the people to look to their God — to look 
 away from their trials and perils, away from their 
 sins and fears, to that Jehovah who had entered into 
 everlasting covenant with Israel. The prophet knew 
 that that revelation would appear most comforting, 
 most inspiring, and that with their God in sight their 
 courage would revive. Soldiers, fainting on the battle- 
 field before the enemy's assault, look at the stained, 
 
BEHOLD YOUR GOD 95 
 
 torn banner of their country, and re-form their ranks 
 and return afresh to the onset. Poor sick men and 
 women, terrified by the seeming approach of death, 
 look at the hopeful face and calm confidence of their 
 physician and already are made better. Ship-wrecked 
 mariners, on the very verge of hopelessness, catch 
 sight of a distant sail and gather up their powers for a 
 little longer fight for life. These are illustrations of 
 what the thought of God, the revelation of God to the 
 individual soul, may do. For the Bible stands beside 
 fainting, tempted, weary, dying humanity with these 
 words of cheer, " Behold your God !" 
 
 Now I do not profess to be able to tell you all 
 that God is. The Bible itself, I suppose, does not tell 
 all that God is. It records the revelation of Himself 
 which He has made to us. But what glories are still 
 unrevealed we know not : what majesty mortal vision 
 could not bear; what treasures human hearts could 
 not yet value ; what beauties flash upon the eyes of 
 the angels and the glorified — this has not been told. 
 We may assume that as there are stars not yet discov- 
 ered by our telescopes, and mysteries of force that 
 have not yet been revealed by science, so there are 
 splendors and beauties of Deity which the human mind 
 has never yet conceived. Nor can I even hope to 
 describe now all that God has revealed Himself to 
 be. For this you must study the Scriptures by the 
 aid of strong faith and in the light of earnest prayer. 
 
96 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 You will find that what the Bible calls " the fullness 
 of God " is marvellous. Most of us take in but 
 fragments of His revelation — side gleams and fitful 
 flashes of His glory. Most of us are so deeply im- 
 pressed with some features of His character as to 
 forget others. You know that there has been no 
 more fruitful source of error than just this. Men take 
 part of truth and consider it the whole. They take 
 partial views of God and deduce from these their 
 whole theology. Against this we must always strive 
 by seeking from the written word itself clearer and 
 broader views, until, in the experience of the Christian 
 life, we are filled, as Paul says, with all the fullness of 
 God. 
 
 Let me only point you to some aspects of the divine 
 character which seem to be specially important for us 
 to behold. 
 
 I would say, for one thing, behold the watchful 
 interest of your God in the lives of all His children. 
 He has so revealed Himself, and the fact is wonderful. 
 This we may call God's moral nearness to each one 
 of us. You know, of course, that He is physically 
 near to all. God is omnipresent. We think of Him, 
 perhaps, as living in heaven and with penetrating eye 
 surveying the universe. But that is a partial view. 
 Let us remember that He is everywhere, in all the 
 vast extent of this universe, to which no bounds have 
 yet been found ; and in each spot present in all the 
 
BEHOLD YOUR GOD 97 
 
 fullness of His infinite power. But your God is not 
 only thus near you in space — He is near you in heart. 
 This is an even grander thought. He is near as 
 Father. He is concerned in every event of life, cogni- 
 zant of every thought, controlling every circumstance, 
 tenderly watchful of every movement of your soul. 
 As a mother bends over her child, observes every 
 motion, cares for every need, so the infinite God docs 
 with each of His human children. 
 
 Did He not reveal Himself thus from the begin- 
 ning? Behold your God walking in paradise with 
 Adam ; speaking in stern rebuke to Cain ; communing 
 as a friend with Enoch; journeying to Canaan and in 
 Canaan with Abraham ; making Jacob's stony pillow 
 soft at Bethel ; with Joseph in Egypt ; on Horeb with 
 Moses; inhabiting a tent among the tribes of Israel; 
 speaking through the prophets ; at last, incarnate in 
 Jesus Christ — so runs the record of revelation. Is it 
 not all a fuller and ever fuller expression of one idea — 
 that God is with us ; that in Him we live and move and 
 have our being ; that He knows our frame ; and that 
 His watchful interest never ceases and His hand is 
 never wanting to protect and guide ? 
 
 This, I say, is God as He has revealed Himself. 
 Behold Him! He is by your side. Were the veil 
 of sense drawn aside, you would see Him ; you would 
 see His smile ; you would be moved by His grief over 
 your sin ; you would be startled by His frown ; you 
 
98 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 would cast yourself upon Mis breast. What solemnity, 
 what carefulness, what joy, what purity, what hope 
 should not this overshadowing of the wings of the 
 Almighty cause ? To every sinful, fearful heart, how 
 should the message ring, with mingled notes of warn- 
 ing and of encouragement, Behold — behold your God! 
 Bu( we say further, behold the faithfulness of God. 
 We know that God is unchangeable. We cannot 
 conceive of Him as increasing or diminishing in 
 any of His attributes. From everlasting to ever- 
 lasting He is God. But I beg you to observe that 
 He has revealed Himself not merely as unchange- 
 able in nature, but as faithful in heart and action. 
 Faithfulness is the moral side of unchangeability, and 
 it is the most precious side. Relatively speaking, the 
 laws of nature are unchangeable. They govern every- 
 where. They have existed from the beginning of 
 creation, and yet they waken no emotion, they bring 
 no comfort to our hearts. Humanly speaking, the 
 mountains are unchangeable. Their gray cliffs face 
 the storms of centuries, and their huge masses remain 
 apparently the same, while the scenes of human life 
 pass and fade away. And yet they do but image and 
 suggest a source of help which they themselves can- 
 not afford. They are as cold as they are motionless ; 
 they are as heartless as they are hard. But God has 
 revealed Himself as faithful ; and here is brought to 
 view strength and love combined. For faithfulness 
 
BEHOLD YOUR GOD 99 
 
 is being true, and God is true to His nature, true to 
 His word, true to His promises, true to His children. 
 How plainly the Bible record exhibits God's faithful- 
 ness. It shows the original purpose, with which man 
 was made, carried out in spite of sin, even at the cost 
 of redemption. It shows the promise to the woman 
 fulfilled in the victory of Christ with which the Apoca- 
 lypse closes. It is the record of the resistless, onward- 
 moving plan, which God had formed in the beginning, 
 faithfully executed in spite of man's failure — faithfully 
 performed in spite of every hindrance. Yes, He is a 
 faithful God ; and therefore we may trust Him to the 
 uttermost. To every one who is despondent, His 
 word comes. To every one who hesitates to serve 
 Him because of a sense of weakness or a fear of 
 failure, His word comes. To every one who is dis- 
 posed to doubt human progress and the world's con- 
 version, or to stand aghast at the seeming delays of 
 Providence, or to tremble at the approach of death, 
 His word comes, Behold your God ! Turn away from 
 the changes of life and behold Him, the same forever. 
 Turn from the petty conflicts of men and behold His 
 hand, which is outstretched to control them. Turn 
 from delays and reverses as they appear to us, and 
 behold His unaltered purpose which runs through 
 them. Behold your God and doubt not ; and fear 
 not. Heaven and earth may pass away, but His word 
 never. 
 
IOO FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 And so turn finally to the climax of God's reve- 
 lation of Himself and behold His redeeming love. I 
 need not remind you that this is the aspect most 
 peculiar to the revelation of God which the Bible 
 records. We know that He is righteous and holy, for 
 He has so revealed Himself in our consciences. But 
 we should never have known His redeeming love ex- 
 cept through an actual redemption. And as we study 
 the record of God's revelation, this love stands con- 
 spicuously out. It is whispered in the first promise; 
 it is manifest in the later covenant with Abraham and 
 with Israel. It is proclaimed by the prophets : " I am 
 the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Re- 
 deemer." It is foretold by the rites of the temple, and 
 it actually did redeem us at Calvary. 
 
 And so it has come to pass that if you would know 
 God you must look for Him in the most unlikely place. 
 The prophet cries unto men in their distress, " Behold 
 your God," and lo ! to what a spectacle he points us. 
 For there must be a brighter manifestation of God made 
 than that which nature contains, though the heavens 
 with their starry host and rolling sun and mighty 
 laws declare His glory and the firmament shows His 
 handiwork. There has been a revelation made of the 
 Infinite more wonderful than that which burst upon 
 the eyes of trembling Israel when the mountain shook 
 with His footsteps and its crest flamed with the fires 
 of His unapproachable presence. What is it ? When 
 
BEHOLD YOUR GOD IOI 
 
 was it made? Surely in some most seraphic form, by 
 some tremendous act of omnipotence. Did the heaven 
 roll back its curtains, that to mortal gaze there might 
 appear the King upon His eternal throne ? Nay, look ! 
 there is a rabble gathered round three crosses. On the 
 middle one a Jewish peasant is transfixed. He is dying 
 of fever and of thirst and of a broken heart. The 
 mob are shaking their fists at his helpless form, and 
 laughing at his agony. Then they leave him to his 
 fate, and, under a darkened sky, surrounded by a few 
 friends and a few soldiers, the crucified Jew expires 
 with a loud cry. Who was he ? Humanity, listen ! 
 The voices of angels, the voices of prophets, the voices 
 of apostles, now at last the voices of many millions, 
 answer, Behold your God ! Here He has laid bare 
 His heart of hearts. Here He has revealed Himself 
 most fully. God is love. He is redeeming love. He 
 has died in the person of His Son to save the lost. 
 This indeed is the climax of the revelation of God. 
 
 " Well might the sun in darkness hide, 
 And shut its glories in, 
 When God, the mighty maker, died 
 For man, the creature's, sin." 
 
 Look, ye sinners, ye needy mortals, ye sin-cursed 
 and perishing — look, behold your God ! Pilate brought 
 Him out before the multitude, crowned with thorns 
 and robed in mocking purple, and said, " Behold the 
 man." But we bring Him forth crowned with the ap- 
 
102 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 probation of His Father, robed in the vestments of 
 heaven. We bring Him forth crucified, and say with 
 the prophet, " Behold your God !" If this be God, 
 then sin has found its cure; then death has lost 
 its sting; then the curse has been removed; then 
 whosoever will may have everlasting life. And He is 
 God. The resurrection proved it beyond all possibility 
 of doubt. And because He is God you may have access 
 unto the Father, and may live forever, being reconciled 
 through Christ. God commendeth His love toward us 
 in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us. 
 Much more, then, being now justified by His blood we 
 shall be saved from wrath through Him. The crucified 
 Christ completes the revelation of God. 
 
 And so we press home on your thought to-day 
 these words of Isaiah, with all their fuller meaning, 
 Behold your God ! Through the revelation of Himself 
 which He has made you may enter into life with Him, 
 you may find Him now, you may discover the secret 
 of peace and holiness. By Him God will come into 
 your lives if you will let Him. Thus you may con- 
 quer every spiritual foe. You may walk with Him 
 like Enoch, and work for Him like Paul, and love Him 
 like John : only keep your gaze fixed upon Him. In 
 every hour of temptation and of trial, in times of 
 despondency, in the common work of life, amid the 
 dust of the highway, in the quiet of your home, look 
 unto Him. Behold your God ! Let Him nerve you, 
 
BEHOLD YOUR GOD IO3 
 
 let Him inspire you, let Him hold you up. Live as 
 seeing Him who is invisible. Keep your sight fixed 
 upon the Father revealed in Jesus. Live and die with 
 Him for your dearest thought, and when you pass 
 from earth you shall see, as now you cannot ; you shall 
 hear the guardian angels that bear your soul into the 
 light of heaven cry to you at last, Behold Him — 
 Behold your God ! His name is Immanuel — God 
 with us. His cross is our banner, and He Himself is 
 our shield and our great reward. 
 
VI 
 
 THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 
 
 " Behold, He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep." — 
 Psalm cxxi. 4. 
 
 To realize the presence and activity of God is one 
 of the greatest delights of a spiritual mind. To such 
 a man God is not an object of fear, but the cause of 
 peace and the ground of hope. The more vivid the 
 sense of His being becomes, the more joyous does 
 life appear, the more beautiful is nature, the more 
 promising is the future. Without God, life is an un- 
 explained enigma ; no sufficient reason for it can be 
 found, no guide to its mysteries, no clue to its mean- 
 ing. Nor has a cold, formal belief in Him any 
 value for practical purposes. He must be felt in order 
 to satisfy ; He must be realized by a willing and 
 loving heart in order that He may still the turmoil of 
 the mind by the power of His manifested love. When 
 He is thus realized, it is as though an everlasting 
 rock had been revealed beneath our feet; as though 
 the day had broken after a weary, restless night ; as 
 though a lost and frightened wanderer had found a 
 friend. Then may the mind contemplate His infinite 
 attributes with awful joy, and, conscious at last that it 
 
 105 
 
106 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 lives, moves and has its being in Him, draw both holi- 
 ness and comfort from every one of the qualities which 
 He possesses. 
 
 It was for such a mood that this Psalm and this text 
 were framed. In the lofty citadel of Mount Zion the 
 Psalmist saw in thought the never-sleeping, ever-active 
 Jehovah. His power was exercised throughout all 
 nature and in the least event of Providence. He guided 
 sun and moon in their courses, and He preserved 
 in safety the humblest of His people. With intense 
 delight did this believer, who seems to have felt 
 greatly the need of divine protection, turn this thought 
 over in his mind. Whether he scanned the firma- 
 ment with its countless stars, or the perils of pestilence 
 and famine upon earth ; or whether he considered the 
 moral dangers to which he was exposed on every hand 
 and the ease with which his feeble feet might slip in 
 life's uncertain pilgrimage; he was consoled by the 
 knowledge that He that keeps Israel shall neither 
 slumber nor sleep. 
 
 What a contrast between this sense of God and 
 the cold, unmoving thoughts of Him which most 
 men have ! Is it not the fact that to most He 
 seems asleep ? They cannot recognize Him in the 
 world of nature, which seems to them to grind out 
 results like a huge and blind machine. The only idea 
 which they have of a manifestation of God is some- 
 thing which interrupts the usual course of events or 
 
THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 107 
 
 forces the existence of a supernatural cause upon their 
 eyes and ears. And when this does not occur, the 
 round of work and play goes forward and God fades 
 from their thoughts. If they pray, they feel like Baal's 
 priests, who, in Elijah's satire, had to waken their deity 
 from slumber or recall him from a journey. Their 
 fancy has placed Him in the heavens, far beyond the 
 level of human life, like the gods of Epicurus, who 
 feasted in serene enjoyment in the heavenly regions 
 without care for earthly matters. Under the influence 
 of such ideas religion dwindles to insignificant pro- 
 portions. It loses its eye for the invisible. It becomes 
 the cry of the deserted Hagar in the wilderness. And 
 while there may be retained a formal faith in Deity, the 
 march of man along his weary road must go on without 
 Him until, perchance, in some better world, the soul 
 shall return to Him who made it. 
 
 Not such is the Bible idea of a living God ; not 
 such was the Hebrew, not such is our Christian, faith. 
 We hold that He is not far from any one of us ; 
 and our support in every danger of body and of mind 
 is this : " Behold, He that keepeth Israel shall neither 
 slumber nor sleep." Let me inquire with you if this 
 confidence be well founded. Is the text true, and 
 how ? Let me help you to realize the ceaseless activ- 
 ity of God and the comfort and confidence which this 
 truth should create. 
 
 Every consideration, whether drawn from reason or 
 
108 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 from Scripture, should keep us from thinking of God 
 as separated from the world. Some men, feeling that 
 there must have been an uncaused cause to account 
 for the existence of the universe, admit that God must 
 be. But, having assumed His existence at the begin- 
 ning, they have no further use for Him and insist that 
 the world, having been created, has since the creation 
 run its course without divine assistance. Back in the 
 darkness of the past they see a single moment in 
 which God was active. This, of course, involves the 
 belief that He still exists. But for all that they can 
 see He has been sleeping ever since He spoke the 
 word which called creation into being. The world, 
 they think, is running itself. God is not in it. He is 
 somewhere outside of and remote from it. He has not- 
 interfered with the operation of the mechanical laws 
 which He imposed on it at the start. All that has 
 come to pass in nature and human life has been due 
 to the working of those forces which were inherent, 
 though latent, in them from the first. 
 
 It is obvious that such a view could not permit 
 expressions like these of the Psalmist. It would 
 not allow us to speak of God as " keeping " any 
 one. He could not be our " help." We could not 
 suppose Him to be preserving our going out and 
 our coming in. We should have to call on med- 
 ical science and political economy and human friend- 
 ship and beseech them to preserve us from all 
 
77 IE KEEPER OF ISRAEL IOQ 
 
 evil. Indeed, the whole Christian system is a protest 
 against the idea of a distant God. That idea has no 
 place in it for Christianity ; no place for an incar- 
 nation or an atonement. Christianity insists that God 
 will dwell with man; that He has "pitched His tent" 
 among us ; that, like as a father pitieth his children, so 
 the Lord pitieth them that fear Him ; and that He is 
 most intimately concerned in guiding the process of 
 man's history to an intended issue. To think of God, 
 therefore, as having merely created the world and 
 left it to itself, is to deny the revelation of Himself 
 which God has made. Besides, the theory is unreason- 
 able. If there be a God at all, He must amount to 
 more than this. It would be unworthy of the attri- 
 butes which we suppose Him to possess. The notion 
 is, in fact, but a mere cover for unbelief in God : nothing 
 but an unwilling confession that the reason itself can- 
 not avoid admitting His being, even when it wishes to 
 do away with Him. 
 
 There are others who go further, under the press- 
 ure of irresistible facts, and think of God as not merely 
 the creator of the world, but as the watchful ob- 
 server of its progress, and as interfering now and then 
 when matters have gone wrong, to set them right. 
 Still He is conceived of as separated from His creation. 
 It runs its way for the most part without Him. He 
 is simply watching it from above, as an inventor might 
 watch an instrument which he has constructed. At 
 
I IO FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 times he puts forth his hand and adjusts the machinery. 
 He is like the superintendent of a factory : he does not 
 run the machine!)- nor kindle the fires nor move the 
 crank ; but, when a difficulty occurs and the machinery 
 gets out of order, he is summoned to set it in order; 
 and when he thinks the time has come for it, he does 
 away with the old instruments and forges new and 
 better. So God, it is thought, at times has interfered 
 to adjust the machinery of life and, on one great occa- 
 sion, to set up new machinery ; but for the rest of 
 the time He merely watches it turn out its product. 
 This view, you see, has a place in it for Christianity. 
 According to it, God is not seemingly asleep, and it 
 might be possible for a man to speak of Him as his 
 keeper. But it does not admit that He is always active, 
 and therefore we insist that the theory is incomplete 
 and insufficient. It still leaves man and the world 
 for the greater part of the time separated from God. 
 God becomes simply man's last resource. It teaches 
 him to turn to God when everything else has failed, 
 with a belief in the possibility that God may help 
 him. Yet only some great occasion, some dire ne- 
 cessity, will induce such a God to interfere. He 
 will not always be thrusting His hand into His 
 creation. We cannot expect Him to do it for every 
 one of his countless creatures in the petty trials of 
 their little lives. For the greater part of human 
 life He is practically asleep : at least He is quiescent, 
 
THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL 1 1 1 
 
 even though awake. And, therefore, the greater part 
 of life is separated from Him and He from it. 
 
 Certainly, such an idea of God is utterly unscrip- 
 tural. The Bible speaks of Him as the One in whom 
 we live and move and have our being. Not a 
 sparrow falls to the ground, said Christ, without 
 your Father. He doeth His will in the armies of 
 heaven and among the inhabitants of earth. It is 
 not possible to escape from God. We abide under 
 the shadow of the Almighty. If I take the wings 
 of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts 
 of the sea, even there shall Thy hand lead me and 
 Thy right hand shall hold me. " Do not I fill 
 heaven and earth?" said the Lord; and the apostle 
 answered, " He is not far from any one of us." 
 
 What, then, shall we say, and how are we to think 
 of God ? We are to think of Him as upholding, by 
 the constant exercise of His will, the very being of the 
 world ; as being in it as well as above it ; as operating 
 through its laws and forces at all times and in all 
 places ; never once letting it go beyond His control ; 
 never once allowing it to be independent of Him ; inces- 
 santly sustaining and guiding the processes of its life. 
 He is above and behind and in it. On His volition its 
 existence hangs. He is not separated from it or 
 limited by it, but He is ever manifesting Himself 
 through it. We may illustrate this by the relation of 
 the mind to the body. The mind is greater than the 
 
112 FAITH A XD LIFE 
 
 body ; the body changes its elements and finally perishes, 
 but the mind remains immortally the same. Yet the 
 mind dwells in the body, works through it, and is 
 reached by it. Or we may illustrate it by an idea 
 which has taken possession of an entire people and 
 is moulding their actions, though the latter are intel- 
 ligent and free. Both illustrations arc partial — nothing 
 can fully illustrate God : He is beyond all analogy. 
 But only by thus thinking of Him can we understand 
 the language of Scripture and give to Him His place 
 as both the supreme governor and the fundamental 
 life of all existence. 
 
 On this view, observe the ceaseless activity of God. 
 The regularity of nature, for example, is as much the 
 result of His activity as any miracle can be. We 
 observe that events in the material Avorld take place in 
 relation to one another according to a certain ordered 
 succession of principles, which within the scope of our 
 experience are invariable ; and these principles we call 
 the laws of nature. But why should we infer that they 
 are self-sustaining ? Why should we not conclude, 
 since so many arguments convince us that there is a 
 God, that these principles are the methods according to 
 which He has determined to have nature work, and by 
 which He works in nature, in order that human life 
 may be stable, human knowledge advance, and the 
 human mind learn the thoughts and will of its Master? 
 And if at certain times for the purpose of teaching us 
 
THE KEEPER OE ISRAEL I I 3 
 
 exceptional truth, He has seen fit to work according to 
 another principle, different from that by which He 
 usually works, and has produced what we call a 
 miracle, in what respect has He been more active in 
 His miraculous than in His customary mode and rule 
 of working? He is as active in the daily sunlight as 
 when around the cross of Calvary the noonday sun 
 was quenched. He is as active in the storm and wind 
 as when, on the Sea of Galilee, His Son bade storm 
 and wind to cease. He is as active in supporting the 
 laws by which we get from the soil our daily food, as 
 when He caused the manna to fall from heaven. He 
 is as active in maintaining the daily life of man as when 
 Christ brought back the dead Lazarus to conscious- 
 ness. It is an utter mistake to allow our belief in 
 those exceptional events which we call miracles, and in 
 which we certainly ought to believe, to blind us to the 
 fact of God's unsleeping vigilance in the support of 
 that creation which derives its stability from His un- 
 changing will, and which, in a true sense, may be 
 called, as Goethe called it in a false sense, " the life 
 garment of Deity." 
 
 Thus what we call the Providence of God is most 
 real ; and it does not in the least conflict with the ob- 
 served laws by which our circumstances are affected. 
 Every human being finds himself in a network of forces 
 with which he has to deal in order to live, and from 
 dependence upon which he cannot escape. He must 
 
I 1 4 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 learn how to live in view of these circumstances, for he 
 cannot disregard them. He must use food, and must 
 discover what food is wholesome and what is not. 
 If he expose himself to contagion, he will take disease. 
 If he fall over a precipice, he will be crushed. Only 
 by observing and obeying the laws of nature can his 
 physical life continue. Then, too, he is liable to 
 misfortunes and calamities over which he has no 
 control and which seem to happen wholly without 
 regard to his deserts or moral character. A railroad 
 accident is as likely to kill a good man as a bad one, 
 and pestilence will strike its poison into the veins of 
 the saint as easily as into those of the sinner. 
 
 In view of these facts not a few ridicule the idea 
 of Providence, and declare that no particular care is 
 exerted by God over the fortunes of His creatures. 
 So far as their present lives are concerned He is 
 practically asleep. But is not this a superficial view ? 
 As I have said, the laws of life are but the expression 
 of His abiding will — the rules which He has appointed 
 and employs in order that man may be educated and 
 trained. For Him continually to break these rules 
 would be to make our moral progress impossible, and 
 to keep us forever helpless children instead of building 
 us up into intelligent and useful men. Yet He is 
 touching us and dealing with us as truly when He 
 thus governs, as though we felt on our own hand the 
 pressure of His. If He refuses to exempt us from 
 
THE KEETER OE ISRAEL I I 5 
 
 calamity, it docs not follow that He is not watchful 
 of us or is unmindful of our condition. He deems it 
 better that we should suffer than that the laws which 
 He has established should be broken. But this by no 
 means proves that He is not keeping us in His thought. 
 
 Our own experience shows that the laws and 
 forces of the external world can be so manipulated 
 by their Ruler that, without breaking any one of 
 them, specific purposes can be accomplished by them. 
 One law offsets another, one force modifies another, 
 so that whereas any one by itself would destroy us, 
 the whole taken together maintain our lives. As the 
 earth is held in its orbit by two opposite forces, the one 
 of which would bury it in the molten sun and the other 
 would fling it into frigid space ; so in countless ways 
 do we depend for our very existence upon the inter- 
 action of established forces. And if a finite mind can 
 use the forces of nature, combining them with one 
 another and setting off one against another, so as to 
 construct an ocean steamer or a telegraph, it does not 
 seem unreasonable to believe that One with an infinite 
 mind can hold in His hand the laws which He has 
 made, and can so combine them as, without violating 
 one, to accomplish an equally specific end. 
 
 But be it never forgotten that the object of Provi- 
 dence is far more than the mere preservation of 
 physical life. Its prime end is moral training, and into 
 that training the duties and the calamities of life enter 
 
Il6 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 as a most necessary part. God may be caring most 
 tenderly for one whom He allows to suffer. He may 
 be smoothing the brow hot with fever that He has 
 allowed to burn. We dare not estimate His provi- 
 dence by mere temporal and physical good and ill ; 
 these have their place in it, but they are only parts co- 
 operant to a greater end. Though we be poor and 
 needy, though we be overwhelmed with misfortune 
 and sorrow, He may be thinking of us and causing 
 all things to work together for our good. The mo- 
 ment, therefore, that we learn to think of physical 
 laws as constantly sustained by His will ; of their 
 interplay as in accordance with His purpose ; of their 
 movement as the manifestation of His thought ; it is 
 quite possible to believe in Providence and yet to 
 recognize the system under which we are placed. 
 The more intricate that system, the more complex the 
 network of circumstances, the more marvellous are 
 its disclosures of the sleepless activity of God. 
 
 Therefore we insist that He is ever active. He 
 never slumbers, He never sleeps. Instead of nature 
 being a self-evolving machine it is quivering with the 
 thought and vitalized by the presence of Deity. It is 
 not mere poetry to say, with David, that the heavens 
 declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth 
 His handiwork; or, with Wordsworth, that — 
 
 " To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
 Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears." 
 
THE KEEPER OP ISRAEL WJ 
 
 God is not only nature's original creator, but its pres- 
 ent master — the power back of it and revealed in it ; 
 and instead of human life being the haphazard result of 
 weak will and growing reason battling against iron-like 
 and blind nature, it is a history of intended progress 
 wrought out under the superintendence of a never 
 absent God — a God who is great enough to control 
 the whole vast drama, yet so great as to keep in con- 
 stant thought each one of the millions of His creatures. 
 We live and move in Him. His eyes behold, His eye- 
 lids try, the children of men. We are at all times 
 immediately present to His thought. He does not 
 have to come down from heaven to help us. He is here 
 already. He does not have to stop the machinery of 
 life to care for us. He is working in that machinery 
 already. His will is sleepless. His knowledge, His 
 righteousness, His love are sleepless. He ever lives — 
 He ever works. And as the thought grows upon the 
 mind, how unspeakably solemn and hopeful, how awful 
 and joyful, does life become, known as it is to be 
 ever passed under His open eye, in His almighty 
 hand. 
 
 The thought of the text is that this ever-active, 
 ever-sleepless God is particularly engaged in caring 
 for His trustful people. It is He that keepeth 
 Israel. The Lord is thy keeper. He is thy shade 
 upon thy right hand. The Lord shall preserve thee 
 from all evil. He shall preserve thy soul. There is 
 
Il8 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 a wonderful richness of suggestion in the many times 
 that the keeping of His people by God is mentioned 
 in the Scripture. lie said to Jacob, " I am with thee to 
 keep thee in all places whither thou goest"; and we feel 
 quite sure that if God had not kept him, Jacob would 
 have fallen a victim to his own sinful heart. He said to 
 Moses for Israel, " I send an angel before thee to keep 
 thee by the way and to bring thee into the place which 
 I have prepared." And how He fulfilled that promise 
 to the wandering, rebellious tribes every reader of their 
 history knows. But the Psalms especially abound 
 in this phrase : " Keep me as the apple of the eye " 
 (xvii. 8) ; " Keep back Thy servant from presumptuous 
 sins" (xix. 13); "My mercy," said Jehovah, " will I 
 keep for him forevermore" (lxxxix. 28). So Isaiah says, 
 " Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is 
 stayed on Thee." Jeremiah cries in pathetic appeal 
 for the people to repent : " He that scattered Israel 
 will gather him, and keep him, as a shepherd doth his 
 flock" (xxxi. 10). While our blessed Lord Himself 
 prayed for His disciples, " Keep them from the evil " 
 (John xvii. 15). All these passages, and many more 
 which I might quote, suggest the breadth and depth 
 of the meaning of our text : " He that keepeth Israel 
 shall neither slumber nor sleep." 
 
 Notice, it is Israel whom He keeps. It is true 
 that His tender mercies are over all His works, and 
 that His government and providence extend over all 
 
THE KEEPER OF ISRAEL II9 
 
 creation and all intelligent minds. But the specific 
 object of His solicitude is Israel, and by that term 
 we are, of course, to understand the multitude of 
 those who trust and love Him. It is to be used in no 
 narrow sense. It is not to be identified with any par- 
 ticular nation or any particular communion ; but all 
 those who turn from sin and seek His face, all those 
 who enter into personal relations of faith and love with 
 Him, are to be accounted the special objects of 
 His sleepless vigilance. There is encouragement in 
 this for the Church. She shall not fail in the long 
 war with sin and error. Particular churches may 
 change and pass away, but the Church herself shall 
 prosper to the end. The gates of Hades shall not pre- 
 vail against her. She shall be disciplined and tried, 
 purified and taught, but also extended and enlarged 
 until she embraces in her fold all nations. For if God 
 exist and be governing the world, and if He be a 
 God of holiness and of love, it is inconceivable that He 
 should guide the world to any other issue than the 
 victory of truth and the defeat of error. As we work 
 and pray in the cause of our Lord we may be in- 
 spired by the knowledge that the truth is not in our 
 keeping and the cause is not dependent on our power, 
 but that God is with it and will keep it safe. 
 
 But we may apply the text more specifically to in- 
 dividual believers ; and how sweet to be assured that 
 each one who trusts Him will discover its truth. 
 
120 FAITH A. YD LIFE 
 
 He will keep His people in their every-day lives. 
 Mark how the Psalmist describes it : " He shall 
 not suffer thy foot to be moved." In this slippery, 
 perilous journey the words promise what every self- 
 distrustingf Christian feels the need of. He shall 
 preserve thy going out and thy coming in. The least 
 matters are not beyond His reach. Many admit that 
 in the great moral issues of life He is concerned, but 
 hesitate to believe that He takes note of trifles. But 
 trifles make up the great issues, as the sand does the 
 seashore or the drops the ocean. Amid these He has 
 promised to lead us, making the way in which we 
 should go plain, providing those things which He 
 thinks best for bodily comfort and household delight. 
 He does not promise wealth, or fame, or greatness. 
 But He will keep us : we shall not fall if we obey Him. 
 And it is worth noting that when we have tested the 
 matter it is found that just in the common matters of 
 life do we discover the most signal instances of God's 
 faithful care. Here, where anxieties are often so 
 heavy, may we roll the burden of them off on Him 
 who careth for us. Here, where the better life is so 
 often crushed by needless loads and smothered by a 
 heavy atmosphere of worldly worry, is the place for 
 us to believe in God's sleepless vigilance and give to 
 the winds all fears and doubts. 
 
 But He will do more : He keeps His people 
 from all evil. How dare we say it, when sorrow is 
 
THE KEEPER OE ISRAEL 121 
 
 the portion of every cup ; when temptation is the lot 
 of every life; when death is waiting to engulf us all? 
 How dare we say it ? Why, easily enough. If we 
 trust and follow Him, He will not let sin obtain a hold 
 upon us. He is able to keep you from falling and to 
 present you faultless before the presence of His glory. 
 He will not let sorrow be an evil, but will make of 
 it a good : for though for the present it seemeth to 
 be grievous, yet afterward it yieldeth the peaceable 
 fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised 
 thereby. He will not let temptation overcome us, but 
 with it will provide a way of escape that we may be 
 able to bear it. And when death comes, it will be 
 found to have no terrors, but to be a welcome into life. 
 Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of 
 death, I will fear no evil : for Thou art with me. He 
 does not say that He will keep from suffering and 
 from sorrow and from temptation and from death. 
 He will preserve from all evil: and we shall find that 
 these are not evils, for He has transformed them into 
 blessings. He shall preserve thy soul. 
 
 Finally, He will keep His people to the end. Did 
 not Jesus say, " They shall never perish, neither shall 
 any man pluck them out of my hand." When He 
 prayed, "Keep them from the evil," did He not add, 
 "I will that they may be with me where I am"? Oh, 
 how helpless we are in this mighty world of force ! 
 One blow of its ereat hammers and we are dead. And 
 
122 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 not more helpless in this respect than in respect to 
 greater things : helpless to deliver ourselves from sin ; 
 helpless with even the keenest thought to pierce into 
 the mystery of life or the veiled hereafter; helpless 
 to attain the ideal which, like a summer sunset, shines 
 above the hard pathway of present experience. Surely 
 we need God. And as we realize His sleepless activity 
 around us and above and beneath us ; as on closer 
 inspection the world is found to be but the place 
 where He would dwell with us, how blessed to be 
 told that He will be our keeper, our protector, our 
 helper, our friend, even forevermore ! 
 
 I ask you to put yourselves into the keeping of 
 this God. He comes to you in Jesus. Are you not 
 already convinced of your unspeakable need? He 
 will keep that which you commit to Him. Then 
 commit your souls to Him. Learn to trust Him. 
 Learn to pray to Him and to follow Him. Then fear 
 not, fear not — not the world, not sin, not doubt, nor 
 your own feebleness. He will keep you; and the 
 eternal vigil of Him on whose living will the world 
 reposes, and for whom nothing is too great to do, or 
 too small to be beyond His notice, will be your 
 guarantee that you shall reach the goal. Will you 
 not trust Him ? Will you not commit yourself to 
 Jesus Christ? Let this be your inspiration to do so: 
 " He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor 
 sleep." 
 
VII 
 
 THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 
 
 " But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had 
 compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him." — Luke 
 xv. 20. 
 
 We often study the parable of The Prodigal Son 
 for the purpose of showing how faithfully and signifi- 
 cantly Christ portrayed the life and fortunes of the 
 sinner. But perhaps we do not so often use it for 
 the purpose of studying in it Christ's representation 
 of God. And yet this must have been the main 
 object of the Saviour when He told this matchless 
 story. It was far more important that He should 
 disclose God to men than men to themselves. The 
 latter disclosure is important and occupies no small 
 place in the revelation of Christ. But soaring far 
 beyond it in importance are the questions, What is 
 God? How does He regard us? How may we regard 
 Him ? Christ's statement of the way of salvation 
 turns, therefore, first of all on His revelation of the 
 Father. 
 
 But besides this, the plan of His discourse on 
 this particular occasion was to show to the Pharisees 
 how wrong their views of God and of His disposition 
 
 123 
 
I 24 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 toward men were. They had murmured at Him, the 
 professed Messiah, for " receiving sinners and eating 
 with them." This seemed to them abhorrent to the 
 very idea of the holy Christ and righteous Jehovah. 
 It was therefore for the express purpose of show- 
 ing them what in reality was God's disposition toward 
 the sinner that these parables were spoken. 
 
 He begins with that of the shepherd who has 
 lost one sheep, and from compassion for the lost 
 one, leaves the ninety and nine and goes after that 
 which is gone astray. The Saviour specially brings 
 out the shepherd's joy at the finding, and the way 
 in which he summons his friends to share it with 
 him. So, likewise, he adds, is there joy in heaven 
 over one sinner that repents more than over ninety 
 and nine just persons who need no repentance. Then 
 follows the parable of the woman who has lost a 
 coin, and who, because of her sense of loss and of the 
 value of the coin, searches diligently till she finds it. 
 In this was taught God's valuation of the sinful soul; 
 and this fact, no less than what was implied by her joy 
 at finding the coin, was truly a new revelation of God 
 to the men to whom Christ spoke. But man is more 
 than a sheep or a coin — he is a son. And the Saviour 
 dwelt at length on the third and greatest of these 
 parables, that by His accurate description of man's 
 wandering He might bring out still more fully God's 
 marvellous love. 
 
THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 1 25 
 
 This, therefore, was the main purpose of the par- 
 able. The other figures are but to point to that 
 of the Father. He is the one on whom we should 
 chiefly fix our gaze. For the maxim, " Know thyself," 
 must be but the portal of another, " Know thy God." 
 The discovery of self would but bring torture and 
 sorrow could we not add to it the discovery of God. 
 And if any of us to-day feel that in any particular we 
 are represented by either of these two sons, we may 
 appreciate in very truth this delineation of God, who 
 is the sunlight of the new world into which Jesus 
 invites us. Let me call your attention, then, to the 
 character of God portrayed in this parable. Notice, 
 first and in general, its representation of Him as 
 our natural and most affectionate Father. It is evi- 
 dent that in this word the representation of God in 
 these three parables culminates. Tender as the re- 
 lation between a shepherd and his flock often was, it 
 was, of course, far below that of a father and a son. 
 Much as the woman may have valued the coin which 
 she had lost, she could not value it as a father would a 
 child. These two former parables do but present pict- 
 ures of what God is like : the third parable describes 
 what He actually is. And it is so far above them in 
 descriptive power that while Jesus briefly indicated a 
 point or two of meaning in them, on this He dwells at 
 length, that He may bring out fully the reality and 
 patience of God's fatherhood. But not only did these 
 
126 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 three parables culminate in the representation of the 
 fatherhood of God ; the fact is that this was the distin- 
 guishing feature in Christ's general portraiture of God; 
 the feature most distinctive of His revelations ; the 
 feature which placed God in a new splendor before the 
 world, which drew men unto Him with a confidence 
 and love which had seldom been known before. 
 
 Men had felt before the majesty of God: so much so, 
 indeed, that they had supposed it impossible for Him 
 to stoop to the real care of His creatures. They had 
 felt the holiness and righteousness of God : so much 
 so that they deluged the earth with the blood of sacri- 
 fices slain to appease His anger. The intellect had felt 
 its way to the apprehension of a Great First Cause — 
 of an Infinite Absolute Being, the source of all things, 
 and perhaps the substance of all. Yea, men had felt 
 feebly the love of God. But it was a doubtful and cold 
 affection, or else it was so placed by the side of 
 His holiness that the two seemed to issue from dif- 
 ferent beings or at least not to fall equally upon all. 
 God might love the Jew, but He hated the Gentile. 
 He might love the good, but He hated the bad. 
 
 There was thus wanting a view of God in which all 
 that was holy and majestic was conserved, while at 
 the same time He was perceived as lovable and near. 
 Christ supplied it in saying to men everywhere, in their 
 sin and shame, " God is your Father." When we con- 
 sider its meaning, how marvellous are the suggestions 
 
TJIE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL \2J 
 
 of this term ! What hopes it raises ! What confidence 
 it creates ! What reality it gives to the idea of the Most 
 High ! It means that God is like us — a person, intelli- 
 gent, moral — because we are like Him. It means that 
 He is in a peculiar sense the Author of our being. It 
 means that He is our provider, our educator, and the 
 one to whom we owe loving obedience. It means, 
 above all, that He loves man and that with no cold or 
 sentimental affection, but in such wise as, only more 
 perfectly than, a father on earth loves his child — that 
 He loves men just because they are His children, in 
 spite of their waywardness and follies and disobedience, 
 so that no being in the universe grieves more over 
 their sorrows or their sins than He against whom their 
 sins are committed. This, therefore, is the crowning 
 feature of Christ's representation of God. 
 
 It is true that men had oftentimes before Christ 
 came called God their Father. The phrase is found in 
 nearly all ancient religions. It was not the word 
 which Christ introduced, but the full idea of the word. 
 Men had used it as a term of dignity ; Christ taught 
 them to use it also in its natural force of love. I quote 
 from Dr. Storrs' lectures on the Divine Origin of Chris- 
 tianity the remark that the term Father as applied to 
 God among pagan peoples "did not in the least imply 
 affectionate paternity. It represented supremacy only ; 
 it was applied by poets to those whom they honored ; 
 by slaves and clients to master and patron. But 
 
128 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 Christianity shows the fatherhood of God in His spirit 
 of love as well as in His authorship of finite intelli- 
 gences, extending to all who are born of His life and 
 becoming intense toward those who seek moral fellow- 
 ship with Him. To them He gives gifts which the 
 mind of the world had wholly failed to attribute to 
 Him or to conceive possible until it was exalted and 
 instructed by Jesus." 
 
 It is true, also, that God is represented in the Bible 
 as in a peculiar sense the Father specifically of His 
 believing people. And it is equally true that there are 
 other representations of God in the Scriptures which 
 we must not allow to fall out of mind. But it is this 
 general representation of God as man's real, near, 
 watchful, holy, approachable, glorious Father which we 
 need first to learn. It exalts man ; it quickens philan- 
 thropy ; it glorifies His righteousness : and, as it is 
 finally revealed in the sacrifice of His eternal Son for 
 us, it wakens, as nothing else can be conceived to 
 do, responsive love and ready faith and joyous hope in 
 sinful hearts. This is the fundamental truth taught in 
 our parable ; and only with it as a background can we 
 appreciate the particular features which Christ proceeds 
 to add in His description of our Divine Parent. 
 
 The first feature brought out in Christ's descrip- 
 tion of the Divine Father's character is perhaps in 
 appearance rather negative and unmarked, but none 
 the less important. Christ represents, you observe, 
 
THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 1 29 
 
 this father as allowing his son, when at last he was 
 of age, to choose and act for himself. He divided his 
 living between the two brothers. In this is indicated 
 very clearly God's refusal to force his son to act 
 against his will. He allows man to wander from Him. 
 No doubt the father of the parable foresaw the prob- 
 able consequences of his younger son's determination. 
 He perceived his willfulness. He feared its results. 
 But, nevertheless, he allowed him to leave the paternal 
 roof and work out his own destiny. He was a free 
 agent. He was a responsible being. He must learn 
 by experience what he would not learn, perhaps, from 
 his father's lips. 
 
 Here, then, Christ represents to us God's recog- 
 nition of man's freedom and responsibility : and the 
 fact is an important one for us to notice. Connected 
 with the view of God as our Father, the thought 
 becomes natural and finds additional force. This 
 paternal government of God's is not merely the 
 authority of law ; the father is not exactly a king, 
 though the children owe him as much obedience as if 
 he were. But he does not desire merely to rule. He 
 is not so anxious about the mere maintenance of his 
 authority. He desires rather to cultivate the personal 
 life of his son, to bring out the powers that are in him 
 — to make, as we say, a man of him ; to throw him 
 in some measure on himself, and to make him feel his 
 own freedom and responsibility. 
 
I30 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 I think that this conception of God as our Father 
 helps to explain not only what He does for us, but also 
 what He lets us do for ourselves. The father is funda- 
 mentally a trainer, an educator, if he realizes his posi- 
 tion ; and the training will be accomplished not by mere 
 restraint and exercise of authority, for so the soul of 
 the son would be but clothed with the raiment, as it 
 were, of virtue. The plan is to bring out the sinner's 
 own life. This requires love and patience and the 
 recognition of freedom, as well as instruction and 
 authority ; and it appears to me that the reality of 
 God's Fatherhood is most appropriately, though inci- 
 dentally, shown when, in answer to this son's demand 
 for independence, we are told that he "divided unto 
 them his living." He did not send him forth empty. 
 He was ready to bestow his own livelihood that his 
 child might have the chance of making use of it. He 
 was not so anxious to keep his own power and author- 
 ity as to recognize the necessity of the son's working 
 out for himself his life and destiny. 
 
 But be that as it may, God's recognition of man's 
 freedom and responsibility is a fact. It is shown 
 in ways precisely similar to what is exhibited in this 
 parable. Here are the children of God on earth, 
 sinful and rebellious. Here they are trying to solve 
 for themselves the problems of life and duty — seem- 
 ingly thrown on their own resources ; compelled to 
 discover, often by a bitter experience, the miseries 
 
THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 131 
 
 of sin and the rewards of righteousness. What is the 
 meaning of this seemingly independent life of men, 
 with its awful perils and mistakes, its many falls and 
 sorrows, its slow, toilsome learning of the truth ? 
 Does it mean that God does not care for men ? Not by 
 any means, for He has revealed to them His will in a 
 most stupendous way. Does it mean that God could 
 not help man's fall — that He had not power to keep His 
 child at home ? Surely that cannot be. It evidently 
 means that He has chosen to throw on man's shoulders, 
 in some sense, the burden of his own destiny: He has 
 bidden him use his freedom ; He has permitted him, 
 much as the result grieves Him, to wander and rebel, 
 that so the human race might discover through its 
 own experience its need of God ; might render Him 
 in the end a willing service ; might be won by God's 
 love and by the truth itself, rather than manufactured 
 without its own will into what pleased God. 
 
 You see that this throws at least some light on dark 
 problems, and brings out most vividly the character of 
 the divine Father. It suggests a reason why He con- 
 ceals Himself from physical sight ; why He gives so large 
 occasion for doubt, and hence for thought and search- 
 ing after Him ; why even in His revelation of Himself 
 in His Son he took an unlikely form ; why, in short, He 
 does not constrain belief and force obedience. Man is 
 a free agent, a responsible being ; he is to work out 
 through his own life the decision of truth and dutv, 
 
132 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 that in the end, if so be he attain to it, he may stand 
 before his Father with a sympathy and an appreciation 
 and a sense of truth and holiness which he could not 
 have had save by finding them out for himself. 
 
 Be it remembered that this does not imply that 
 the Father leaves His children without watch or 
 care ; that He gives them no help and guides them 
 by no paternal power. That, in its turn, would be as 
 unfatherly as its opposite. It is purposely to guide 
 and educate : while He would throw us on our own 
 responsibility, He also stands near, though unseen, to 
 assist us if we call upon Him. But He certainly does 
 recognize our freedom and our individual obligations, 
 and the necessity that our attainment and conclusions 
 should be really our own work, as well as His gift. 
 And thereby He lays on every child the responsibility 
 of acting out the life, if he would enjoy the privileges, 
 of a child of God. 
 
 Hence, notice again, the father's patient, though no 
 doubt anxious, waiting for his younger son's return. 
 The parable follows the course of the prodigal. It 
 depicts in a kw strong phrases his downward career; 
 his waste of the father's gifts ; his poverty ; his misery ; 
 his final degradation. Then it relates his bitter self- 
 discovery. He comes to himself, and in that far 
 country he remembers the happy and plenteous life 
 of his early home. At last he is penitent, and he re- 
 solves to confess his failure and humbly to take his 
 
THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 1 33 
 
 place as a servant in the house where once he was a 
 master. How thrilling is this description ! In every 
 phrase we see a mirror reflecting some phase of life 
 about us — perhaps of our own. But meanwhile, what 
 of the father ? The silence of the parable about him 
 is, I conceive, as suggestive as its description of the 
 son. He is waiting. Do you think he has forgotten 
 his absent son ? His subsequent conduct proves that 
 he has not. He is looking for his return all the while. 
 He is waiting until the foolish experience of sin shall 
 have been finished, all the while yearning for the 
 empty place to be filled, hearing perhaps reports of his 
 son's shame and sin, but patiently expecting the time 
 of his return. 
 
 Now it should be carefully remembered that while 
 this representation of God is true, it is not all the 
 truth. It puts before us that attitude in which we 
 see the Father, in which He seems to us ; although 
 elsewhere in Scripture we are distinctly taught that 
 the Father does not wait for the sinner to return, but 
 goes out into the far country to seek and to call. But 
 there are many things in the divine action of which 
 we may not be aware. There is an unconscious side 
 to life. We are told by the apostle to work out our 
 salvation, knowing all the while that God is working 
 in us. We know that He is working in us, but we are 
 not conscious of it. And so with this prodigal in his 
 shame. He came to himself, we are told. But was 
 
134 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 that all ? Do you think there was no inaudible voice 
 in his ear — no unknown influence moving on his 
 heart? Most certainly there was. Unknown to him, 
 the father was with him ; that new impulse and reso- 
 lution were the father's call, his returning strength 
 was the father's spirit, and the ultimate fact was 
 that before he had taken one step toward the old 
 paternal roof he had been taken in the arms of his 
 father and was being borne home. Still, I say, he 
 knew it not, and the object of the parable is to set 
 forth that which appears to the consciousness of men. 
 So far as any outward manifestation is concerned, God 
 waits. So far as they can see or are aware, He is far 
 from them and they are far from Him. He conceals 
 Himself. He lets them go their way. But no matter 
 how far they may have wandered or how low they 
 may have sunk, He is watching, He is waiting, for 
 their return. 
 
 I am very sure that no representation of God 
 can be better news than this to a sinning world. 
 God has not disinherited His wayward sons. He has 
 not decreed that they should not return. He has not 
 forbidden the wanderer's name to be mentioned, or 
 declared that He will not be reconciled. He does not 
 have to be reconciled at all, so far as His heart is con- 
 cerned. He is simply waiting. Oh, the forbearance 
 of God ! Think how slow the race has been in coming 
 to itself, how impious have been its blasphemies, how 
 
THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 1 35 
 
 shameful its sins, how black its rebellion ! God is no 
 name, or shadow, or heartless law. He is a person ; 
 He is a Father; and do you not think that He must 
 feel unutterable sorrow over the persistent self-exile 
 and ruin of these millions of His sons ? And yet no 
 thought has He of repelling them ; and when we do 
 come to ourselves, methinks our sharpest pang must 
 be in the thought that we have trespassed on His 
 patient long-suffering through so many, many wasted, 
 ungrateful years. 
 
 And now we are brought to the culminating glory 
 in Christ's description of the Father as seen in His 
 reception of the sinner. As I remarked at the be- 
 ginning, this was the main object of our Lord in the 
 parable. Men had murmured at His receiving sinners: 
 He would show how the Father receives them. Men 
 had sneered at Him for eating with the unclean : He 
 would show how the Father welcomes such to His 
 festal board. Here the description of the father be- 
 comes more animated. Waiting and watching as he 
 was, he does not even have to be told of his son's 
 return. Has he not all the while been calling him? 
 Did he not see the first impulse to return when it 
 sprang into the mind of the prodigal ? Has he not 
 been watching him all the way? Men perhaps knew 
 not whither that ragged outcast was journeying; why 
 his look was so eager and at the same time so sad ; 
 why he gazed so shamefacedly at his tattered gar- 
 
136 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 merits. And men may likewise not know on what 
 great end the soul of another is bent — the mystery of 
 his conviction of sin and his heavenward look they 
 may not appreciate, or, if any do, they may predict 
 that such as he will never be received. But not so the 
 father. He saw and welcomed the prodigal before he 
 was yet in sight, and when he was a great way off he 
 saw him and lo ! — mark you, scoffing Pharisee, mark 
 you, trembling, doubting sinner — lo! he ran and fell 
 on his neck and kissed him. Hearer, remember that 
 Jesus is illustrating God to us ! There is something 
 almost daring in this description: were it not a revela- 
 tion it would be almost impious to imagine God thus 
 portrayed! The Infinite and Holy thus falling on the 
 neck of an outcast ! What boldness of thought ! 
 What audacity of description ! Yet, I submit, that 
 no one has ever come out of the ruin of sin and has 
 sought, through Christ, the injured Face, but he has 
 experienced that which justifies Christ's language 
 and which makes this scene of the parable mighty 
 enough, through its revelation of love, fairly to change 
 the world ! 
 
 And so mark the cordial welcome home. God com- 
 mands us to repent and to confess our sins, and the 
 prodigal did so. But God's purpose in so requiring is 
 not to mortify us by upbraiding ; for when our sins are 
 confessed He remembers them no more. He does 
 not, according to this parable, speak one word of 
 
THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 1 37 
 
 reproach, much as that was deserved and might have 
 been expected. Instead of this He proceeds to make 
 His child fit for His dwelling-place, and to adorn him 
 in a manner becoming His son. What if the poor 
 prodigal had waited until he could have made a pre- 
 sentable appearance ? Many a sinner does so and finds 
 himself, after years of waiting, as unpresentable as ever. 
 Fortunately for him, this prodigal came home just as 
 he was, asking only to be taken as a servant, to be 
 saved from his self-destruction, and the father made 
 him fit. " Bring forth the best robe and put it on 
 him ; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his 
 feet." This is God's welcome to the sinner. 
 
 The words make us instantly think of the robe of 
 righteousness — the seamless, matchless robe of Christ in 
 which God will clothe the penitent — the ring by which 
 He will seal the soul's eternal marriage with Jesus Christ 
 — the preparation of the Gospel of Peace with which 
 his feet will be shod. The description means that God 
 will perfectly restore us to our place in His home as 
 He has also had us in His heart. He will declare that 
 for Christ's sake we are justified. He will declare that 
 our sins and our iniquities shall be remembered no 
 more. He will confer upon us all the privileges of the 
 sons of God. Always sons by nature, He will make 
 us sons by redemption and holiness. We shall be 
 received into the family and entitled to all the privileges 
 as if we never had sinned against Him. 
 
138 FA III I AND LIFE 
 
 And what is the reason of this divine love and joy? 
 The Pharisees could not understand it, and in the elder 
 brother, who likewise felt no such rejoicing, they are 
 pictured. He was angry at the favor shown to the re- 
 turning outcast, and he remonstrated, dwelling on the 
 sins of the prodigal — his wasted fortunes, his shameful 
 life. He would not have received him ; or, at the most, 
 would have given him a servant's place. But mark the 
 father's answer : " This my son was dead and is alive 
 again ; he was lost, and is found." The word express 
 God's valuation of a soul. Not merely as the shepherd 
 loved his lost sheep, nor as the woman valued her lost 
 coin, but with the love of a father to a child — part of 
 his own being — does God regard the sinner. To Him 
 sin loses us, we are lost to Him, we are dead to Him. 
 It is not merely that we are without Him, but that He 
 is without us. That was the source of this father's joy 
 in the welcome, and it is the source of God's. He 
 knows the value of our souls. He knows how bottom- 
 less is the pit of ruin into which we are almost ready 
 to fall. He knows what life is. And He, it would 
 seem, feels in a sense incomplete ; the family circle 
 seems broken and wanting so long as we are away. 
 
 So God's word is throbbing with this strange, un- 
 utterable love, and by it I am justified in trying to tell 
 you to-day how even the Most High longs for fellow- 
 ship with you. Is it not strange? Who would have 
 dared to have said it but Christ? Can we enrich God? 
 
THE FATHER OF THE PRODIGAL 1 39 
 
 Can we add to His felicity ? No, no ; and yet, yes ; 
 since, having begotten us, He wants our love; having 
 made us for Himself, He longs for our presence. 
 Oh, men may well stand amazed at Christ's revela- 
 tion of the Father! No abstruse proof, no cold, 
 majestic, philosophic conception. It is no empty 
 name. He has made God the sun in our sky, the 
 center of our souls. He has presented Him, personal, 
 near, loving, patient, long-suffering. He was always 
 such : but Christ has shown Him to us more plainly, 
 and we have only to listen to Christ to know as never 
 could have been known otherwise, the marvellous, un- 
 limited, yea, passionate love of God ! Surely none of 
 you can face this picture unmoved ! Surely no prod- 
 igal here, no elder brother either, can gaze with heart 
 unmelted ! He calls you, sinner ; He is waiting, the 
 robe is ready : will you come — will you come ? Oh, 
 with such a God, who would choose ungodliness ? 
 With such a Father, who would choose exile from 
 home? This picture of Christ is the vivid portraiture 
 of what Saint Paul meant when he was ready almost 
 to lay himself at the sinner's feet and say, " We are 
 ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech 
 you by us ; we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye 
 reconciled to God." Behold thy waiting Father, son 
 of God ! Come, arise to-day ; come home ! 
 
VIII 
 
 WORKING OUT SALVATION 
 
 " Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is 
 God which worketh in you both to will and to do of His good pleas- 
 ure." — Philippians ii. 12, 13. 
 
 I think that we are sometimes misled in our inter- 
 pretation of this familiar text by attaching an incor- 
 rect notion to its two opening words. To a hasty- 
 reader they imply that the safety of the soul can 
 never be attained until the end of life. They may even 
 seem to some to contradict the idea of salvation 
 through faith, of immediate salvation on the ground 
 of Christ's merits, which is the common teaching 
 both of Paul and of the other apostles. They 
 appear to throw back on our feeble shoulders the 
 burden of our own redemption ; and while they 
 add the encouragement of God's cooperation with us, 
 they yet seem to leave out of sight the complete 
 salvation of the soul in Jesus Christ. Not a few, I 
 imagine, have hastily cited these words as somewhat 
 inconsistent with the doctrine of justification by faith. 
 
 But the difficulty arises simply from a misunder- 
 standing of the words "work out"; and perhaps I 
 
 can best express the wrong and the right view by an 
 
 141 
 
142 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 illustration. Let us suppose a slave offered his liberty 
 on condition that he accomplish a certain amount of 
 work. This will illustrate the mistaken view of our 
 text. The slave is to work out his freedom. He may 
 have encouragements. His master may even give 
 him assistance. But his freedom is to be the reward 
 of his own exertions. He will pay for it by his own 
 toil. He will work it out in the sense of securing 
 it as the wages of years of labor. If this were 
 the sense in which we are to work out our salva- 
 tion, it would be obvious that we have a hard task 
 upon our hands, and that if ever we gain freedom we 
 shall have good reason to compliment ourselves. 
 
 But let us suppose the case of a slave emancipated 
 by his master, given his full liberty at once ; and then 
 directed, both for the sake of gratitude to his liberator 
 and for the sake of his own self-development, to prove 
 himself worthy of freedom. He, too, is now to work 
 out his liberty : but not in the sense of procuring it, 
 but in the sense of bringing out that which is in it, of 
 using it well, of applying himself so as to enjoy his 
 new privileges. He is to prove himself really free by 
 manifesting self-control ; by securing employment and 
 culture; by making his own the blessings and the 
 prerogatives of freedom. Legally free, he is to work 
 out a freeman's life, that he may manifest to others and 
 himself enjoy both the rights and the duties which 
 pertain to his new condition. 
 
WORKING OUT SALVATION 1 43 
 
 This latter case will illustrate, I believe, the sense in 
 which we are to work out our salvation. We may 
 have it at once by faith in Christ Jesus. No one 
 teaches this more plainly than Paul. Jesus secured 
 our needed emancipation. We are free from con- 
 demnation. We have passed from death unto life. 
 We are no more the possession of Satan, but the 
 accepted children of God. We are reconciled to 
 God by the death of His Son, and our first need is to 
 realize, in all its wonderful meaning, the liberty where- 
 with Christ has made us free. Having this posses- 
 sion, we are to work it out to its consummation. 
 Having it legally, we are to work it out practically. 
 Having it in the germ, we are to work out in our lives 
 all its tendencies and consequences. 
 
 And this is to be an individual matter. Each one is 
 to work out his salvation for himself. Each one stands 
 in an individual relation to Christ. Each one has indi- 
 vidually believed and individually lives. And so, indi- 
 vidually, we are to weave into the fabric of our own 
 lives, as that grows with the years, the pattern which 
 God has given us ; we are each to work it out, as the 
 skilled workman may work out in wood or metal the 
 idea which lies already fully formed within his mind. 
 We are not to work for life, but, as it were, from life, as 
 being those who already have it and who are resolved, 
 by divine grace, to experience all that life implies. 
 Just as God Himself works out in the history of crea- 
 
144 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 tion His primeval thought, that thought which before 
 the first creative word was uttered already embraced 
 in itself every moment of history, and every atom of 
 existence, so are we in the sphere of Christ Jesus, in 
 whom potentially we have all things, to work Christ 
 out with fear and trembling into the actual being, 
 thought and character of our souls. 
 
 With this understanding of the text, let us take, 
 in turn, the chief elements of which our salvation 
 consists and consider how they are to be worked out 
 to their proper results. 
 
 First, our salvation consists in the enlightenment of 
 our minds by the saving truths of the Gospel, and 
 therefore we are to work these truths into the actual 
 fabric of our lives. A man becomes a Christian in part 
 through the personal apprehension of certain practical 
 truths. Those truths are old in that they have been 
 known in the world from the beginning of Christian 
 history; they have been formulated into dogmas and 
 creeds ; they have been expressed in the hymns and 
 prayers of the Church of all ages ; they have become 
 the familiar commonplaces of religion. Yet to each 
 man they are new, in that, in becoming himself a 
 Christian, he feels their force for the first time. To 
 him it is as if they had just been revealed. They are 
 practically a new discovery to him. They have power 
 over his mind. They have a vital meaning for the 
 first time. It has been said that genius is shown by 
 
WORKING OUT SALVATION 1 45 
 
 making fresh what is familiar. Some of the greatest 
 discoveries of science have consisted in the perception 
 of what really lay in the commonest and best known 
 facts. Truth is all about us : and the discoverer or 
 the poet but catches a glance, through facts with which 
 all are familiar, into the realm of ideas and forces 
 which have always existed in the facts, but which 
 ordinary eyes have not seen. So the believer is a 
 discoverer ; and the new light which he now per- 
 ceives for the first time is practically to him a reve- 
 lation. 
 
 What these saving truths are I need not rehearse. 
 They are not many. They are all closely connected 
 with each other. They are so related that when the 
 mind has felt one, it must needs feel the others also. 
 Foremost of them is the reality of God ; His personal 
 presence ; His authority and His power ; His right- 
 eousness and His holiness. Closely united with this 
 there is the .sense of man's sin — of his alienation from 
 God — and, therefore, his need of repentance and par- 
 don. Now these two truths merge in the perception 
 of what in reality Christ is, what He signifies in the his- 
 tory of mankind : that God has manifested Himself in 
 the person of Christ and that we may have redemp- 
 tion through Christ's name. This is to human minds 
 as the light of the sun. It carries with it a thrilling 
 perception of what God is and what we are : that faith 
 is our duty, love our life, and heaven our hope. God 
 
 10 
 
I46 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 has shined into our hearts to bring the light of the 
 knowledge of His glory in the face of Jesus Christ. 
 
 Certainly, although this perception of Christ is 
 enough to alter a man's whole view of life, the truth is 
 very imperfectly apprehended by him. Even so, how 
 little he knows of God ! How little he understands of 
 the cross itself! He must feel that this Sun which has 
 risen upon him with healing in its wings is yet full of 
 mystery. Of its past history and of its present nature 
 he knows scarcely anything, while beyond the circle in 
 which it moves and from which its beams fall upon him 
 the vast unmeasured distances of space assure him that 
 secrets of which he knows nothing but the fact of 
 their existence await further illumination. Only he 
 knows that he has enough light to walk and work and 
 live by. He must feel as I suppose one would feel 
 who has discovered some mechanical principle which 
 solves for him a knotty problem by which he has 
 been vexed, but the further application and the inner- 
 most meanings of which are as yet unsolved. 
 
 Nevertheless, he is enlightened, and now, yield- 
 ing with joy to the discovery he has made, he is im- 
 pelled to work out to all its legitimate consequences 
 the saving truth of the Gospel. It will never do 
 to stop. Truth is realized only when it is embodied 
 and worked out in some material. As a theory 
 it is but a cloud driven by the winds. The cloud 
 must descend and enter into the structure of the 
 
WORKING OUT SALVATION I47 
 
 world, and the truth must enter into living expression. 
 And the natural material which such truths as these 
 of the Gospel seek is the human soul. In its life truth 
 is to become, as it were, incarnate. Take any 
 political theory as an illustration. You know that 
 it is realized only by being worked out in the fortunes 
 of a people. Only so can its real worth appear. Only 
 so can the truth and the error in it be separated. 
 Only so can its mission be fulfilled. Otherwise it will 
 evaporate and disappear. Or take any scientific truth. 
 You know that it is discovered as a fact in actual 
 operation. The object of science is to ascertain what 
 is working in the natural world, and this is but another 
 way of ascertaining how the Creator is working out 
 the principles which He impressed upon the world. 
 
 I was deeply impressed by an anecdote once re- 
 lated by Dr. Archibald Alexander Hodge, of that dis- 
 tinguished scientist, Professor Joseph Henry. As a 
 young man Dr. Hodge was Professor Henry's assistant 
 in making his experiments. He says : " I can well re- 
 member the wonderful care with which he arranged all 
 his principal experiments. Then often, when the testing 
 moment came, that holy as well as great philosopher 
 would raise his hand in adoring reverence and call 
 upon me to uncover my head and worship in silence. 
 ' Because,' he said, ' God is here : I am about to ask 
 God a question.' " Surely, that was the right spirit 
 of scientific inquiry — none the less exact for being 
 
148 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 religious — and it went upon the idea that God is 
 working out in nature His own thought and plan. 
 So, I say, truth is to be embodied — worked out into 
 the material of our lives : and the Christian, beintx 
 once enlightened, is to work out his salvation with 
 fear and trembling. 
 
 I could take each of the revealed truths of the Gos- 
 pel and show, in part at least, how it is to be thus 
 wrought out. Take, for example, the truth of the Incar- 
 nation. It is not to be regarded as a mere mystery 
 without moral bearing upon our lives. It was the cul- 
 mination in Scripture history of the truth which had 
 been formerly taught to Enoch when he walked 
 with God, and afterward to Israel by tabernacle and 
 temple in which Jehovah dwelt. It reveals the possi- 
 bility, I mean, of the indwelling of God in and among 
 men. Worked out by the believer, it results in a 
 sense of divine nearness and likeness which make the 
 whole world radiant with divine presence. It results 
 in the sense of God in us — Christ in you, the hope of 
 glory, our bodies the temples of God by the Spirit : 
 and thus, in the growing consciousness of union and 
 communion on earth with the Father and the Son. 
 I, too, am a son of God, and this carries with it a view 
 of privilege and duty, of inheritance and possession, of 
 expanding life and eternal glory before which the mind 
 fails as the eye before the sunbeams, and can but wait 
 for time to unfold the unspeakable reality. 
 
WORKING OCT SALVA7 VOX 1 49 
 
 This must suffice as an example. You may take 
 each truth of the Gospel and similarly work out its 
 logic in your life. It will not be bare logic, but living 
 experience, growing knowledge. God means His word 
 thus to be wrought into His new creation ; therefore, 
 perhaps, it was that He revealed Himself not as an 
 abstract truth, but as a life, the Word made flesh — 
 that as out of nature the student gathers part of God's 
 thought, so out of Christ he might gather more. Thus 
 as the student reapplies what he has discovered, so are 
 we to reapply in our lives w r hat we discern from 
 Christ's. God does not wish His truth to return to Him 
 as it came forth, any more than the farmer when he 
 sows his seed wishes to pick up the seed again as he 
 cast it down. What he looks for is the harvest — the 
 product of the seed which he has sown as it has been 
 worked through the processes of nature. So God de- 
 sires His word to return to Him not in propositions and 
 theories, but in living souls — informed, pervaded, illu- 
 minated, recreated, by the truth they have received. 
 And if we have been enlightened by these saving truths 
 of the Gospel, this is in order that the fabric of the new 
 creation may arise in us made according to the pattern 
 shown in the mount. We are now and henceforth to 
 work out this salvation in our thoughts and feelings and 
 actions, even to the very last result. Thus shall we 
 approach unto the perfect man — the measure of the 
 stature of the fulness of Christ. 
 
150 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 But let us take another view of our salvation. It 
 consists not only in the enlightenment of the mind 
 by saving truth, but in the fact which is thereby 
 revealed of sin actually forgiven, of justification for 
 Christ's sake before the Father, of acceptance in the 
 Beloved : and this reconciliation with God we are 
 to work out into its ultimate aim of perfect holiness. 
 
 No candid student of Scripture can doubt that it 
 teaches the doctrine that the sinner is freely justified 
 and acquitted by God from all his guilt as soon as he 
 believes in the Lord Jesus. God does not put us on 
 probation when we come to His Son. He treats us 
 as the father of the prodigal did his penitent boy. He 
 acknowledges us as His sons, and forthwith reinstates 
 us in our place in His house. Therefore Christ said 
 to the penitent woman and to the believing paralytic, 
 " Thy sins are forgiven thee." Therefore He cried to 
 all His hearers, " He that heareth my word, and be- 
 lieveth on Him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and 
 shall not come into condemnation ; but is passed from 
 death unto life." Therefore Paul wrote in the spirit 
 of Christ : " There is therefore now no condemnation 
 to them which are in Christ Jesus," and quoted to the 
 same effect the old prophet's words, " Whosoever shall 
 call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved." We 
 believe, therefore, in immediate justification. God 
 accepts the penitent sinner as righteous for Christ's 
 sake. He imputes to him the righteousness of Christ. 
 
/ / OR KING OUT SAL VA TION I 5 I 
 
 He declares him legally guiltless. God is reconciled 
 to the sinner and the sinner is reconciled to God. 
 The believer is a free man. Before God's law he is an 
 innocent man. His sins and his iniquities are remem- 
 bered no more. He is reconciled in Christ to God. 
 At the foot of the cross the burden rolls off. 
 
 Now, perhaps, this is precisely what most of you un- 
 derstand by salvation. It is salvation ; but in one very 
 important sense it is incomplete : and hence the diffi- 
 culty which men so often find in it. Not a few people 
 actually regard this doctrine as injurious. They say, for 
 example, that it teaches men so to rely on the work of 
 another as to do no work themselves ; that it affords 
 also an easy excuse by which men can imagine them- 
 selves saved while they continue living in sin. It is 
 said, further, that this doctrine is a mere legal fiction, 
 such as we cannot suppose God to act upon, however 
 men may do so. He must treat men as they are: and 
 to accept as righteous for the sake of. another those 
 whom He knows to be unrighteous would be to bring 
 His government into merited contempt. Hence the 
 sheltering robe of Christ's merits is sought to be 
 dragged from our shoulders, much as the elder brother 
 would have torn from the prodigal the "best robe" 
 which his father had put upon him : and we should all 
 be left in our shame and sinfulness to stand the poor 
 chance we should have at the hand of eternal right- 
 eousness. 
 
152 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 It will help to remove such objections from your 
 minds and may lead you to give no ground for such 
 objections to others, if you will mark the bearing of 
 our text on this view of our salvation. There is no 
 doubt, as I have said, that the Bible teaches immediate 
 justification for Christ's sake. But it is important to 
 add that the Bible insists with equal force that the 
 salvation which is made legally ours we are to work 
 out ; the liberty which has been declared to be ours 
 we are to exercise both as to its privileges and its 
 duties ; the acquittal which we have received we are 
 to make a real and personal deliverance from the 
 actual bondage of sin. It is only on the supposition 
 that the formal will thus become the real that it is 
 permitted. It is only on the supposition and cer- 
 tainity of our becoming like Christ that we are 
 allowed to know that in Christ we are saved. 
 
 In this, as in the former point, an illustration may 
 make clear the force of our text. In Drummond's 
 well-known book on Natural Law in the Spiritual 
 World, one of the most interesting chapters is that 
 upon " Environment." This is the modern word for 
 circumstances. It means the sum total of the out- 
 ward conditions in which any object lives. The 
 influence of an animal's environment upon it is now 
 recognized as one of the great complex forces in its 
 development. If it adjust itself to its environment it 
 will live. Harmony with environment is the condi- 
 
/ / r ORKING OUT SALVA TION 1 5 3 
 
 tion of life, and the higher the environment, the higher 
 the life. If it be removed to another environment, it 
 will often, if it have sufficient vitality, come to adjust 
 itself thereto so as quite to change its habits. This 
 is a well-known fact in nature and, as Drummond 
 points out, we find the same fact in moral and spirit- 
 ual matters. A man is made by his company. If 
 he would improve, he must put himself in a better 
 environment. Yea, his effort should be to put him- 
 self into the best of all environments, of which God 
 Himself is the chief factor, that by adjusting him- 
 self thereto he may find in harmony with God the 
 perfect life. 
 
 I think that the ingenious author might have car- 
 ried his argument a step further. His book has been 
 criticized because it contains no reference to atone- 
 ment, and here, if anywhere, this might have been 
 introduced. For when God reinstates us into His 
 favor in Christ Jesus and accepts us as righteous for 
 Christ's sake, this is but placing us in the most favor- 
 able circumstances for the growth of spiritual char- 
 acter. We are in Christ as the tender plant, which, 
 sheltered in the conservatory from the winter's storm, 
 produces even tropical fruit. So in Christ, with guilt 
 removed, with favor shown, with hope beating high, 
 we are so situated that, in spite of contending tempta- 
 tion, we may work out in our lives the actual image of 
 the Saviour. We do not have to work against only 
 
I 54 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 hostile influences. We are only in a state of imperfect 
 adjustment. Already we have the faith, the love, the 
 desire, and in Christ we become fashioned, as other- 
 wise we could not do, into the likeness of our Lord. 
 If you wish to reform and save a child whom you 
 have discovered in a home of squalor and vice, you 
 will not have much prospect of success if you shall 
 merely give it good advice and offer to pay its 
 schooling and furnish it with clothes, while leaving it 
 in its squalid, vicious surroundings. No ; if you 
 wished to save such a child, you would feel that these 
 would undo all your work. You would remove 
 it beyond their influence. Perhaps you would take 
 it to your own home. There you would have reason- 
 able hope of its reformation. There it would be able 
 to work out your benevolent intentions. The purity 
 and cleanliness and religion of your home would 
 gradually become natural to it. The old nature 
 would be put off and a new nature put on, congruous 
 to the new circumstances amid which you have placed 
 the child. 
 
 Thus, as I conceive it, God does with the be- 
 liever. He puts him, first of all, in such a new rela- 
 tion to Himself, that in it spiritual growth is possible. 
 We could not be made holy without first being 
 forgiven. We could not work out our salvation 
 without having first received it as a free gift. But 
 having so received it, we are to work it out. Like 
 
WORKING OUT SALVATION 155 
 
 emancipated slaves we are to prove ourselves worthy 
 of liberty. Being declared freemen, we are to shake 
 off our fetters. There is plenty of need of effort and 
 toil. It is real work. God does not exempt us from 
 such work. Only it is work with a reasonable pros- 
 pect of success : and that is not true of the work of 
 those who labor for their salvation with the law against 
 them. We are to work our salvation out. We are 
 to enter into a personal experience, ever more and 
 more complete, of that union with God, that liberty 
 from sin, that deliverance from evil, which already we 
 have the moment we believe in Jesus, though we have 
 not realized in experience its infinite blessings. 
 
 Such, then, I apprehend to be the meaning of this 
 command. There are other points of view from which 
 we might regard it, but these two that I have pre- 
 sented to you must suffice. Certainly they are 
 sufficient to give ardor and hope to every earnest 
 believer. The apostle does indeed say, " Work with 
 fear and trembling." But no doubt he so spoke 
 because he would have us realize the momentous 
 nature of our task. We may well be filled with awe 
 as we consider the privileges we enjoy, the trust com- 
 mitted to us, the magnificent goal which is held before 
 us. And by fear and trembling I understand not 
 slavish terror, not fear which springs from doubt, but 
 the solemnity and carefulness which should spring 
 from the sense of our divine sonship and our peerless 
 
I 56 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 portion in Christ, which arc to be worked out in this 
 world and in the flesh. And that we may not faint, 
 he does not fail to add also the reminder, " It is God 
 which worketh in you both the willing and the doing 
 according to His good pleasure." This phrase con- 
 firms our view of the text. We are to work as those 
 in whom God already works and dwells ; as those, 
 therefore, whom He has already accepted, and whose 
 purpose is to carry out His purpose ; whose work is 
 done because He is working; and who, therefore, 
 again have the utmost encouragement to persevere. 
 
 Let us obey, therefore, my hearers, this most prac- 
 tical command. Consider the capital you have to 
 start with, and then work out its utmost capacity, that 
 the return may be larger, and a larger reinvestment 
 follow. Already you are Christ's, I assume. Yours is 
 the Sacrifice and the Advocate ; yours is the citizen- 
 ship on high; yours is the Holy Spirit; yours are the 
 truth and the promises. Therefore your work is plain. 
 Enjoy your liberty. Put sin under your feet. Apply 
 the truth to every exigency of life. Follow in the foot- 
 steps of the Master. Solemnly, carefully, yet joyfully 
 and hopefully, work out into life and character, into 
 opinion and emotion and conduct, in short, into your 
 whole being, the salvation which you have from Christ 
 by faith ; and you need not fear. He who worketh in 
 you will enable you to succeed. 
 
 And if there be any poor soul here who is trying to 
 
WORKING O UT SA L I 'A TION I 5 7 
 
 work out salvation for himself in the other sense, with 
 no acceptance of a Saviour now, — working it out 
 doubtfully, anxiously, and vainly, seeing how poor and 
 faulty the result is, — let me point out to that soul its 
 great error. Your anxiety, your toil, your readiness to 
 work, my brother, are all right; but you are working 
 in the wrong way and you never will succeed. You 
 need to stop working for a while, to look at your 
 worthless products, and then to Him for salvation — to 
 the Lord, our Righteousness. He only can save you. 
 He will put at once the robe on your shoulders and 
 strength within your heart. He will give you what 
 you cannot make for yourself, and then He will enable 
 you to work as you never worked before ; to work out 
 in your life by His spirit the glorious salvation which 
 He has purchased by His blood. Work not to Christ, 
 but for Christ and with Christ, and you will have 
 solved the problem — the working out of your own 
 salvation. 
 
IX 
 
 UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 
 
 "For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down 
 first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? Lest 
 haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all 
 that behold it begin to mock him, saying, This man began to build, 
 
 and was not able to finish So likewise, whosoever he be of 
 
 you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple."— 
 Luke xiv., 2S-30, 33. 
 
 We naturally dislike failures. We hate to fail 
 ourselves. Some men would rather do wrong than 
 fail ; so lofty is our pride and so sensitive are we 
 to the criticism of the world. We look with some 
 derision and contempt on the failures of others. Un- 
 finished labors and disappointed ambitions are often 
 thought fit subjects for scorn. Our Lord was quite 
 true to life when He described the mockery which 
 failures meet with. He Himself was to feel the scorn- 
 ful dart. Hanging on the cross, an apparent failure in 
 the eyes of the exulting priests, He was to hear the 
 cry: "He saved others; himself he cannot save. If 
 he be the King of Israel, let him now come down from 
 the cross." 
 
 More or less poignantly, we all feel the sting of such 
 remarks : and yet are only too apt to make them. It 
 
 159 
 
l6o FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 is true that often men are not to be blamed for their 
 failures. Sometimes these cannot be helped. Some- 
 times, too, they are our best friends, though they meet 
 us with grim visages and though their embrace be 
 rough. But wherever we see presumptuous ambition 
 falling from the too dizzy height to which it has 
 climbed ; or reckless extravagance ending in rapid 
 bankruptcy ; or any attempt, especially if we do not 
 sympathize with it, evaporating into smoke ; we quickly 
 put upon it the stigma of our derision and say, not 
 always kindly and yet not without reason, This man 
 began to build and was not able to finish. 
 
 Against all such failures in religion and in Christian 
 life our watchful Lord has warned us. His warning 
 is needed : for it is not hard to begin a good work; 
 and many start to run who never reach the goal. 
 Does not the adage say that " The way to hell is 
 paved with good intentions " ? A little child may 
 begin to dig away a mountain with a trowel or 
 to empty the ocean with a cup ; but he overrates his 
 capacity and underrates the task. Equally thought- 
 less are those who set out on the moral and spiritual 
 enterprises of life without preparation and an intelligent 
 understanding of the work before them. 
 
 Not a few begin the religious life under such mis- 
 takes, and, of course, they fail. A little gush of 
 enthusiasm thrills them as they listen to a vivid pre- 
 sentation of the truth ; and on the spur of it they 
 
UNFINISHED BUILDINGS l6l 
 
 enlist for a campaign, the dangers and duties of which 
 they do not begin to comprehend. A wave of reli- 
 gious feeling spreads through the community, and 
 men mistake the contagion of excitement for the vital 
 force of conviction and real conversion. Conscience 
 stings them for some particular offence, and in remorse 
 they dedicate themselves to a service which they do 
 not truly love. Misfortune falls upon them ; bereave- 
 ment enters their homes ; death with stealthy tread 
 draws near ; and in sheer alarm they try to hide them- 
 selves under a profession which deceives no one except 
 perhaps themselves. Cases like this frequently occur, 
 and it is no wonder that they do not issue in per- 
 manent good results. Enthusiasm dies ; feeling ebbs ; 
 conscience sleeps again ; fortune smiles once more ; 
 sorrow's edge is dulled : and the episode passes, leaving 
 the man worse than it found him. 
 
 I do not forget that there are others guilty of 
 exactly the opposite fault, in that they wait too long 
 and let the golden opportunities escape them which 
 God meant them to improve. But other texts are 
 meant for them. At present we deal with bad begin- 
 ners. Perhaps there are more of these. Christ wants 
 us to begin and to finish : and if we begin aright, 
 we shall be sure to finish. Permanent success, com- 
 pleted lives, genuine, real disciples were what He 
 sought to make : and knowing how easy it is for men 
 to make mistakes and how melancholy a sight such 
 11 
 
1 62 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 an unfinished building is, He warned us of our peril 
 and showed us the secret of success. 
 
 Let me give you some examples of such unfinished 
 buildings, which were meant to be, but are not, 
 structures of Christian character ; and point out the 
 common causes of their failure. 
 
 Some men begin to build, but are not able to 
 finish, because they do not lay a strong enough foun- 
 dation. The foundation on which a man's personal 
 religion rests is his faith. That is the root-principle 
 out of which his Christian life expands and unfolds. 
 That is the fundamental fact on which his experience 
 of religious power depends. An irreligious man is 
 one who does not trust. He may intellectually be- 
 lieve, but he does not personally confide in God. 
 The change which makes him a Christian, if he ever 
 becomes such, consists essentially in his learning to 
 trust. He sees now the reasonableness of such 
 trust : inasmuch as reason cannot show him salvation 
 and God has given sufficient evidence for his trust to 
 rest upon. He becomes so far a child again. He takes 
 God at His word and humbly rests on it. Not that he 
 as yet believes all that he ought to believe or will be- 
 lieve. Not that he is at once exempt from doubts and 
 still less from sins. But he has found faith. Having 
 found that, with it comes the religious view of life, 
 and he becomes so far forth a religious man. 
 
 Yet this is only the foundation. On it is the struct- 
 
UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 1 63 
 
 ure of Christian knowledge and character to be raised. 
 Out of it are the Christian virtues to grow : and if the 
 faith be not genuine and strong, it may give way when 
 much has been built upon it, and the whole edifice 
 crumble to ruin. Have you ever considered how we 
 build each day on the preceding day's assumptions, 
 and go on building until the whole fabric of our habits 
 and relations rests thereon ? A man's first convictions 
 are of awful importance to him. For when he has 
 made them, he has thenceforth to assume them as 
 proved. He has to build on them. He takes his 
 position in the world on the strength of them. He 
 acquires habits based upon them. He forms ties in 
 which these convictions are assumed. Thus the 
 structure rises on the foundation of his original belief. 
 What a frightful catastrophe is that which has 
 sometimes taken place when, after years of such 
 building, the underlying faith gives way ! Men have 
 been driven almost mad by the calamity. Some 
 have been dishonest and have hidden the change of 
 faith because of their unwillingness to face the conse- 
 quences. The catastrophe is enough to frighten any 
 one — to feel the very rock on which our whole lives 
 rest sliding from underneath us ; to see our funda- 
 mental axioms melting into fog, and to find ourselves 
 reduced to the miserable alternative of either beginning 
 life all over again on another basis or else patching up 
 the old foundation by some more or less dishonest 
 
164 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 means. It is of primary importance, therefore, that 
 we take every possible means of acquiring a founda- 
 tion faith which will be strong and true : such a faith 
 as will stand the strain which will be put upon it, 
 and successfully uphold throughout life whatever may 
 be built over it. 
 
 What are the qualifications of such a faith ? 
 
 It must not be a blind faith. A blind faith is one 
 which exists without intelligent reasons ; which does 
 not know why it believes ; which can give no account 
 of itself to others. Many start with such a faith, and it 
 is no wonder that by and by the crash comes. They 
 believe merely because they have been taught to, 
 without seriously thinking for themselves. They 
 accept their faith on authority without ever examining 
 the right of their authority to teach. They do not 
 realize that their faith must stand the strain of later 
 thought and of strange temptations. They don the 
 uniform of belief without consideration of the fight 
 which awaits a soldier's life. There are such things as 
 both blind unbelief and blind faith: and the blunder of 
 each is to be condemned. " Prove all things," says an 
 apostle ; " hold fast that which is good." Another 
 apostle says, " Be ready always to give an answer to 
 every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that 
 is in you." He does not mean that we should be able 
 to answer all objections and solve all difficulties, for, 
 as Newman once wrote, " ten thousand difficulties do 
 
UNFINISHED BUILDINGS l6$ 
 
 not make one doubt." But he does mean that we 
 should believe because we feel faith to be an intelligent 
 and reasonable thing, and therefore should hold it not 
 as if we were tied to it with a rope by another's hand, 
 but as grasping it deliberately with our own hands. 
 
 Then it must be a faith not in man but in God. 
 We do not urge men to believe in us, or in the 
 Church, or even in the apostles, but in God as re- 
 vealed in His Son Jesus Christ. Paul said to some 
 who were putting him above his Master, " Who then 
 is Paul, and who is Apollos, but ministers by whom ye 
 believed?" To have for your foundation faith in any- 
 thing human is to build on sand. For no man can be 
 to a soul its God or its spiritual father. No belief 
 in any man or church will of itself reconcile your sinful 
 heart to the Holy One. Your trust must be in God 
 Himself. It must be a resting upon His being and a 
 dependence on His word. It must be the establish- 
 ing in you of filial confidence in the divine Father, 
 and this, through His only Son, the divine Saviour. 
 Many a time has our faith in man received a shock ; 
 and some poor souls, who have been resting on hu- 
 man rather than on divine supports, have lost in the 
 wreck not only their faith in men but their faith in 
 God also. They were illogical, but they suffered loss, 
 nevertheless ; and the melancholy view of their lives 
 warns us that only faith in God is a strong enough 
 foundation for the structure that is to be built upon it. 
 
1 66 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Still further, your faith must be eager to know better 
 Him in whom you have believed. Some men seem 
 to think that when faith has once been exercised, its 
 mission is done, and that henceforth they may be busy 
 about all other kinds of knowledge and work except 
 the knowledge of God and His work, and yet their 
 faith retain its power. Is it any wonder if after a while 
 their minds become cultivated in every respect except 
 in spiritual things, and that little by little a great 
 chasm is opened between their real life and the faith 
 which they once held ? Suppose you make a friend 
 and " swear to him eternal friendship," and then go 
 off and live by yourself, keep up no communication 
 with him, do not share with him his thoughts nor let 
 him share yours, become absorbed in things from 
 which he is excluded : how long, do you suppose, 
 will your friendship last ? Go back to him and try 
 to assume again the old relations, and you will find 
 that he and you are separated by a want of sympathy 
 which no formal association can recreate. So must 
 your faith in God be of a kind which seeks to know 
 Him better and better. It must expand with your 
 growing life. It must be fitted into the changing 
 circumstances of your fortunes. It must be a divine 
 companionship in the actual warfare of this world. It 
 must twine itself about God's heart as it feels His 
 arms supporting your soul. So will it be living, real, 
 practical, potent ; and though you grow to be never 
 
UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 1 67 
 
 so wise, never so rich, never so busy, it will abide with 
 you, and be the ever-sufficient foundation on which 
 your life's building rests. 
 
 Then you will be able to build and to finish. Oh, 
 some believers are afraid of doubt and infidelity ! 
 People speak of the decline of faith. Now and then 
 we do see men who began to build but were not able 
 to finish because their faith had failed them. But it 
 need not have failed; and if it be as I have said it ought 
 to be, we need not fear for others or for ourselves. 
 A faith that is intelligent ; that rests on God, not on 
 man ; and that ever seeks, amid the other avocations 
 of life, to know God and to obey His truth better and 
 better; will support the mightiest structure which the 
 longest life and the most active brain and the busiest 
 hand can build upon it. 
 
 But, again, some men begin to build but are not 
 able to finish because they are unreasonably ambitious, 
 attempt too much, and then give up in despair. The 
 great cathedral at Cologne was begun as far back as 
 the thirteenth century, and century after century it re- 
 mained unfinished. It was too ambitious a structure 
 for the age and place to complete. Not until about 
 thirty years ago was it finished by an heroic effort of 
 the Prussian king, and then only by a vast expenditure 
 of money and of modern skill. There are many who 
 try to build Gothic cathedrals when they ought to be 
 content with chapels or dwelling-houses. Entering 
 
1 68 FAITH A. YD LIFE 
 
 on the Christian life, they have unreasonable ideas. 
 They lay out more work than any mortal can accom- 
 plish, and expect results which even the divine prom- 
 ises do not warrant. Of course, their towers are never 
 more than begun, like that of Babel ; and with a disap- 
 pointment as unreasonable as were their plans, they 
 give up the task altogether and tell us, perhaps, that 
 they have tried religion and have found it a failure. 
 
 Here are some illustrations of what I mean by these 
 too ambitious plans. 
 
 One begins with the idea that he will understand 
 everything. He is a philosopher, and he means to 
 solve the problems of theology and of Providence 
 that have vexed the ages. In most cases he is 
 soon more interested in curious questions than he 
 is in practical piety, and examines the stones so 
 long that he forgets to build with them. His religion 
 becomes a mental speculation. He becomes eccen- 
 tric in his views, and after a while he breaks away from 
 the faith and dedicates himself to his speculations. 
 
 Another begins with the idea that he will transform 
 the world in a lifetime. He is sure that he can do 
 what the apostles failed to do. He has some pet 
 scheme by which humanity is to be immediately 
 brought to its right condition. With great enthu- 
 siasm he sets forth — with more zeal than knowledge ; 
 and when he has broken his spear against the gigantic 
 evils of the day, and has found himself unable to 
 
UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 1 69 
 
 conquer them, he rashly concludes that nothing can 
 be done, and lays down his arms. 
 
 And still a third carries the same unreasonable ideas 
 into his personal life. There have been those, as you 
 know, and there still are those, who think to destroy 
 the earthly life at once, and enter into perfection by 
 casting off the human ties and sympathies which God 
 had made for us, and in ascetic solitude attain perpetual 
 communion with divinity. 
 
 There are those, too, who begin the Christian life 
 with no conception of the patient work of sanctification 
 which lies before them, and think to enjoy at once the 
 ideal pleasures of a holy and sinless life. They are 
 like the seed which Jesus described, which fell among 
 thorns ; and they are choked by the cares and riches, 
 the temptations and the sorrows of life, and bring no 
 fruit to perfection. 
 
 All these classes begin to build, but are not able to 
 finish, because they plan unreasonably ambitious struc- 
 tures. We do not need to lay out such grand schemes. 
 We shall only fail if we do. We were not meant to 
 live in palaces but in ordinary dwelling-houses. It is 
 not for us to attempt what even apostles and prophets 
 thought beyond them. 
 
 For be it well understood that the Christian life does 
 not offer us the explanation of all mysteries. It is 
 not a philosophy, but a practical theory of life. It does 
 not explain the principles of God, nor make us wise 
 
170 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 like the Most High. We know but in part, and 
 while sufficient light is given for the daily walk, the 
 heights and depths are still veiled. We must be 
 modest. It is not necessary to understand all things 
 in order to get real happiness and usefulness out 
 of life. Let us not tiy to build museums to exhibit 
 curious discoveries in ; nor palaces in which to display 
 the achievements of our mental powers ; but simple 
 dwellings, in which we may live with God in faith 
 and communion, and which will be quite sufficient for 
 the little while we have to stay in them. 
 
 And be it well understood, also, that God does not 
 call us to transform the world. He is reconciling the 
 world unto Himself; and only subordinate parts are 
 committed to us. Even the Lord Jesus was content 
 to limit His work to the special lot assigned Him ; and 
 though there was much, doubtless, that He would 
 have liked to do but could not, He did so well what 
 He was given to do that He could say at the end, " It 
 is finished." Only do with thy might what thy hands 
 find to do, and leave the rest with God. 
 
 Then do not forget that the building up of personal 
 character can likewise advance only slowly in this 
 world. It is a life-long matter. Disappointments and 
 trials and temptations are parts of the needed discipline. 
 Concentrate, therefore, on what is practical. Start out 
 to do your best for Christ and men, to know all that 
 you can know, to fight the good fight till death ; but 
 
Unfinished buildings 171 
 
 remember that at the most we can accomplish little. 
 Still that little is worth doing and doing well. It is 
 your heaven-given mission. Do it with your might. 
 It will give point and issue to your Christianity, and 
 at the end you will at least have finished something, 
 and will not awaken derision and shame by an 
 ambitious failure. 
 
 And now, still again, some begin to build but are 
 not able to finish, because they try to do too many 
 other things at the same time. They are like workmen 
 who take too many jobs, and the particular trouble is 
 that they often become more interested in the doing 
 of other work than in the building up of Christian life 
 and usefulness. 
 
 I suspect that this is one of the commonest reasons 
 why so many in our day begin to build and are not 
 able to finish. The temptations to forget the Lord's 
 work are innumerable. The young man, for exam- 
 ple, who has started well, becomes fascinated by 
 the claims of business, desiring, as he does, to push 
 it to success and fortune ; or he becomes absorbed in 
 the study and the practice of his profession. When 
 he gets a home of his own, he becomes chiefly inter- 
 ested in securing the comfort of his family, and in 
 maintaining his place in the hardly contested race of 
 life. Never, perhaps, did so many voices, sweet and 
 deceptive as the siren's, call us in different ways. 
 Culture calls us to her feet and wealth dazzles us 
 
1 7 2 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 with its promises ; politics offers an easy path to fame ; 
 and science tells of mysteries to be learned, more 
 wonderful than alchemists ever dreamed of. So we 
 neglect the building up of faith and of Christian 
 character. We dwindle into religious indifference and 
 external morality. We care for everything except 
 that which is most important, and to which we once 
 pledged our names. Is it any wonder if we present 
 to God's eye an unfinished task, and never enjoy the 
 comfort of a completed spiritual home ? 
 
 How shall we escape this peril ? Well may we ask 
 the question. I reply, Only by close and constant 
 watchfulness. The prophet Haggai lived after the 
 return of Israel from Babylon, and reproved them for 
 just this fault, that they built their own houses but let 
 the Lord's house lie waste. He assured them that real 
 prosperity would come to them only when they cared 
 for Jehovah's temple even at the cost of neglecting 
 other things. I bring a similar message to you. You 
 must not let the work of life cause you to forget the 
 duty of prayer and the service of Christ's kingdom. It 
 is idle to say that you have not time. You have time. 
 Besides, whose is your time ? What are you but 
 workmen in the employ of God? Is not your time 
 His ? Then do His work. Do not scatter your 
 energies. Put that first which belongs in the first 
 place. Lay the emphasis of life aright. Seek first the 
 kingdom of God. Build the temple, the temple 
 
UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 1 73 
 
 of Christian character, the temple of divine service. 
 Give heed to these things, and do not prepare for your 
 souls in your dying hour the horrible thought that you 
 have been absorbed in the least important matter to 
 the neglect of that for which you were chiefly sent 
 into the world. When the Master comes to examine 
 thy day's labor, and asks thee what hast thou built, it 
 will not do to say, "See, Lord, I have been working 
 on yonder house of my own, and have not had time to 
 do much at thine." Surely He will say, " Did I not 
 employ thee for my work ? Go thy way. As thou 
 hast served thyself and not me, look to thyself for thy 
 reward." 
 
 And, finally, some men begin to build, but are 
 not able to finish, because they do not count the cost 
 beforehand. This was the reason of failure which 
 our Lord had especially in mind. How fair He was 
 with those disciples who knew so little of what was 
 involved in the great undertaking ! Some were ready 
 to follow Jesus under the impulse of mere patriotism ; 
 others from the excitement of the popular enthusiasm 
 which was so soon to die away ; others, perhaps, even 
 from selfish and sordid motives. The Lord desired to 
 save them from such unhappy mistakes. He insisted, 
 therefore, upon their knowing what the cost of disciple- 
 ship would be, and He put the case so strongly that it 
 almost staggers us as we read His words. " If any 
 man come to me and hate not his father and mother, 
 
174 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 and wife and children, yea, and his own life also, he 
 cannot be my disciple." 
 
 Of course, He meant " hate " only in a compar- 
 ative sense. He told us to honor father and 
 mother, to love wife and children, and our neighbor 
 as ourselves. So He could not have meant us to 
 hate them. But he did mean that our acceptance 
 of Him as Master should be so complete and absolute 
 that nothing will be allowed to stand in its way. 
 Everything that becomes in any way inconsistent with 
 it is to be surrendered. Then He added, " And who- 
 soever doth not bear his cross, and come after Me, 
 cannot be My disciple." He meant us to realize that 
 the Christian life is one of self-denial ; that we must not 
 enter it expecting only reward but must expect also 
 trial, and that we must enter as bearers of the cross. 
 It is true that the cross becomes sweet when we 
 bear it willingly; that His yoke is easy and His burden 
 light. But He did not tell them that, because He 
 wanted them to begin to build in the resolute spirit of 
 self-sacrifice. Finally He added, " Whosoever he be 
 of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot 
 be My disciple " — forsaketh all, that is, in the sense of 
 withdrawing from it our supreme allegiance ; putting 
 it with ourselves at the service of the Lord ; being 
 willing to spend all we have and are in the work to 
 which God calls us. Thus Jesus taught us to count 
 the cost. " Which of you," He says, " intending to 
 
UNFINISHED BUILDINGS 1 75 
 
 build a tower, sittcth not down first, and counteth the 
 cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it?" 
 
 I make my appeal to you, therefore, for an intelli- 
 gent, sincere, hearty, and real acceptance of Jesus 
 Christ. It would be easy for me to dilate upon the 
 reasons why you should begin the building. If you do 
 not feel them, you must be blind indeed. But I know 
 you do feel them, for conscience impresses them upon 
 you. But probably not a few are held back from be- 
 ginning, just because of the fear that they may not 
 be able to finish. They do not want to be failures. 
 They do not want to be inconsistent. They are 
 afraid to undertake so great a task as it seems to 
 them. By all that I have said do I respect their de- 
 sire to be honest and consistent. Unfinished build- 
 ings — monuments of folly ! Certainly these no one 
 wants. 
 
 But I press upon you the fact that if you set to work 
 in the right way, there is not the least likelihood of 
 failure. Lay the foundation by a simple, honest trust 
 in Jesus as your Saviour. Be content to do the work 
 which He assigns you. Do not let yourselves be 
 carried away to the neglect of your religious duties. 
 Be honest, be sincere, give yourselves wholly to Him, 
 and then you need not fear. You may be poor and 
 weak, but He will make up for all that. You may 
 feel yourselves wholly inadequate, and you are so; 
 but He will give you the grace you need day by 
 
176 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 day. This is the testimony of all who have builded 
 under Him, while those who will not begin simply 
 because they are afraid they will not finish, will have 
 no work at all to show Him when He comes to make 
 inquiry of their souls. 
 
 Oh, the joy of him who begins in the faith and 
 love of the Saviour, who daily builds a little, who, 
 amid the other work of life, does not forget his soul 
 and his Maker, who tries to extend Christ's king- 
 dom, and thus in life and work builds up God's 
 house ! Even if his life be short, even if he have only 
 a humble place assigned him, he will be able to 
 greet his Lord, when the day is done, with the happy 
 words : " I have finished the work which thou gavest 
 me to do." 
 
X 
 
 STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 
 " Strength and beauty are in His sanctuary." — Psalms xcvi. 6. 
 
 I suppose that the Hebrew writer of these words 
 was looking at or thinking of the temple, and that, 
 as he admired its architectural strength and beauty, 
 his thought was raised to adoration of Him whose 
 dwelling-place the temple was. It is doubtful whether 
 this Psalm was composed before or after the Babylo- 
 nian exile — whether, therefore, the eye of the writer 
 fell on the temple of Solomon or on that which was 
 erected by the Jews who returned from Chaldea. But 
 for our purpose this matters little. In either case the 
 sanctuary of God filled him with admiration. 
 
 If, however, it was Solomon's temple of which he 
 
 spoke, we can imagine some of the features which he 
 
 must have had in mind. The immense blocks of 
 
 stone of which the foundation was composed, and the 
 
 great Lebanon cedars which were brought by Hiram, 
 
 king of Tyre, explain the reference to the strength 
 
 of the building. Though not large, it was a solid, 
 
 massive structure, built to last through ages, while the 
 
 foundations themselves rested on imperishable rock. 
 
 And, then, the resources of art were exhausted to 
 12 177 
 
I78 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 make it beautiful as well as strong. The interior was 
 overlaid with pure gold, on which were carved figures 
 of cherubim and palm trees and flowers. All the 
 utensils of worship were of the same costly metal 
 and elaborately ornamented ; while precious stones 
 gleamed amid the gold and Tyrian tapestries hung 
 on every side. The wealthiest of kings lavished his 
 riches ; the most skilled artificers taxed their art; the 
 adventurous mariners laid tribute upon distant lands to 
 make beautiful the temple of Jehovah. It thus seemed 
 to combine the two elements of architectural perfec- 
 tion, — strength and beauty. The Hebrews beheld in 
 it the fittest habitation for God which human hands 
 could provide ; and in its perfection as a building they 
 saw represented the perfection which the human soul 
 would enjoy when made in like manner the dwelling- 
 place of God. 
 
 Hence the exultant strains of this Psalm. It calls 
 upon the whole earth to worship the Lord, for He 
 only is God. All are exhorted to come into His 
 courts and offer Him their sacrifice of praise. As 
 their Creator, they are bound to obey Him. As their 
 King and Judge, they are in peril if they disobey Him. 
 And the honor and majesty which are before Him, the 
 strength and the beauty which are in His sanctuary, 
 are at once the proof that He is worthy to be served, 
 and a promise that in serving Him all men may find 
 the highest and noblest life. 
 
STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 1 79 
 
 If I may be permitted to take an illustration of the 
 text from what is just now in all our thoughts, I would 
 point you to the massive and yet beautiful building 
 which the citizens of this community arc about to 
 dedicate to the administration of justice.* Our new 
 court-house finely combines the two qualities of 
 strength and beauty. It is almost as massive as 
 if made by nature itself, while the outlines are so 
 artistic ; the proportion of parts is so harmonious ; the 
 ornamentation, while simple, so appropriate, that as 
 we look upon it we think less of its strength than 
 of its beauty. And yet I may hope that we do not 
 merely admire it as an ornament to our city, but also 
 rejoice in it as a fit symbol of the just and yet merciful 
 laws to whose administration it is consecrated. It 
 represents the supremacy of law in this Republic; our 
 determination that law shall be enforced among us. 
 Like the court-house, law is strong, and yet, in a sense, 
 beautiful. It is the granite of our national structure, 
 and we mean that it shall be sovereign among us, since 
 liberty is secured only through the administration of 
 law. Yet mercy and fraternity should temper justice. 
 Ours is not the hard law of a despot, but a wise law 
 framed by freemen for their own self-government and 
 for the happiness of the community at large. Such, 
 at least, is our ideal: and this strong and yet beautiful 
 building may well express to us and to all comers the 
 
 * This sermon was preached in Pittsburgh. September 23, 1888. 
 
l8o FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 sovereignty and the humanity of the principle whose 
 temple it is. So also the Hebrews did through the 
 temple of Jehovah express His glory and the happi- 
 ness of His people. 
 
 When, now, we would apply the Psalmist's words to 
 our circumstances, what do they mean? The answer 
 is given by the question, What is now the sanctuary of 
 God ? The Hebrew temple has passed away, never 
 to be reerected. What has taken its place? 
 
 In one sense Jesus is the temple of God, for in Him 
 God dwelt and dwells in all completeness. He Himself 
 said, " Destroy this temple, and in three days I will 
 raise it up." In Him dwells all the fullness of the 
 Godhead bodily. Jesus, therefore, is the sanctuary 
 of God, at whose feet all men are to worship: and I 
 think you will admit that in Jesus strength and beauty 
 appear as nowhere else among men. He is the ideal 
 man. His character contains every element of strength 
 — profound knowledge, constant faith, ability to suffer 
 for the truth, composure in the face of an assailing 
 world. Yet his character contains also every element 
 of beauty. He is tender as a woman, devoted in His 
 love of man, humble and meek, gentle and patient, too. 
 Each quality exists in accurate proportion in Him ; so 
 that we may say, without hesitation and after the closest 
 examination, that the architecture of Christ's character 
 is absolutely perfect. 
 
 But also the whole material universe is, in another 
 
STRENGTH AND BEAUTY l8l 
 
 sense, the temple of God. God is everywhere. This 
 world is the manifestation of His thought. Even 
 Solomon, when he dedicated the temple, knew this, 
 for he cried, " Will God indeed dwell on the earth ? 
 behold, the heaven and heaven of heavens cannot 
 contain Thee ; how much less this house that I have 
 builded ? * * * Hear Thou in heaven, Thy dwelling 
 place: and when Thou hearest, forgive." And I am 
 sure that the student of nature will agree that in this 
 sense also, " strength and beauty are in His sanc- 
 tuary." We speak of " the powers " of nature, because 
 we cannot but be impressed by the tremendous sweep 
 and capacity of its forces. When, now and then, in 
 some convulsion, they appear, as in the storm or earth- 
 quake, we tremble at their awful might ; yet they are 
 always working, and the vast and varied world of 
 inorganic objects is built up by the mutual modifica- 
 tions and interplay of these silent forces. It is a 
 mighty world, a world of force, a texture woven out 
 of motion, the investigation of which affords the 
 clearest proof of the power of its Maker. And yet 
 who would not say that it is a beautiful world ! By 
 wondrous processes are these mighty forces made to 
 play into each other's hands so as to produce exquisite 
 beauty. Think of the hues of sunset, which no brush 
 can reproduce ; of the colors and forms of vegetable 
 life ; of the adjustment of part to part in living organ- 
 isms. God must love beauty, we infer. The Creator 
 
I 82 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 has not merely power, but a mind of infinite skill, for 
 1 le has not only made this mighty temple of force, 
 but He has so beautified it that it calls for the song of 
 the poet and the joy of the artist, as well as the 
 admiration of the man of science. 
 
 " There is a voiceless eloquence in earth, 
 Telling of Him who gave her wonders birth ; 
 And long may I remain the adoring child 
 Of Nature's majesty, sublime or wild ; 
 Hill, Hood and forest, mountain, rock and sea — 
 All take their terrors and their charms from Thee. 
 From Thee— whose hidden but supreme control, 
 Moves through the world, a universal soul." 
 
 But if the text is true of Jesus and of nature, it is 
 true also of that spiritual temple of which the New 
 Testament tells us. God dwells in His Church. " Ye 
 are built upon the foundation of the apostles and 
 prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner- 
 stone, in whom all the building, fitly framed together, 
 groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord ; in whom 
 ye also are builded together for a habitation of God 
 through the Spirit." So the individual believer is said 
 to be the temple of God, because God dwells in him. 
 " Know ye not," says the Apostle, " that ye are the 
 temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in 
 you ?" It is in this sense that I wish to use the words 
 of the text. The sanctuary of God is a human soul 
 that is governed and moulded by God. Such a soul 
 is His temple. Of this is it true that strength and 
 
STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 1 83 
 
 beauty are in His sanctuary. Or, to put it in other 
 words, a true Christian character is the realization of 
 the highest ideal of what a man should be. 
 
 There is nothing in all this busy world which is 
 of such infinite value as are the characters which 
 are being made. Every life is the building of a 
 character, and that a character which, in its essential 
 features, is to last forever. From childhood to old 
 age the process advances. Sometimes we are uncon- 
 scious of the work that is going on within us until 
 surprised by the discovery that the structure is so far 
 finished that it cannot be changed even though we 
 wish to change it. But whether we are consciously 
 directing the work or not, the building is going up. 
 Some are making hideous structures in which they will 
 themselves be doomed to misery, making jails and 
 dungeons for their own immortal spirits. Others are 
 doing better. But everything a man does reacts upon 
 himself. If he give his life to helping others, he is 
 making his own character noble. If he is injuring 
 others, he is making his own character bad. I do not 
 think that a man should make it his prime thought to 
 cultivate himself. It is better to forget himself and to 
 live for others. But, even then, he is making himself, 
 and every man should at least endeavor to make the 
 most out of the materials which are within him, the 
 opportunities which come to him, and the helps which 
 are about him. 
 
184 FA ITU AND LIFE 
 
 I suppose that every one will admit that a noble 
 character must contain in high degree, and in right 
 proportions, just these two elements of which our 
 text speaks, — strength and beauty. There must be 
 strength of character. You cannot make a house out 
 of sand, because the particles do not cohere to one 
 another. Neither can you make a worthy character 
 out of irresolution, vacillation, doubt, fear, instability. 
 A true man must have ruling convictions, concentra- 
 tion and constancy of purpose, firmness in the right as 
 he sees it, power to endure reverses, positive purposes 
 and ideas. These make a strong- character. 
 
 A true man also must have these elements of 
 strength adorned by gentler virtues. Manliness is not 
 mere strength. That was the old pagan idea, which 
 has been replaced by a better. There must be refine- 
 ment of feeling, humanity and benevolence, gentleness 
 and patience. These make character beautiful. And 
 the two elements must combine in right proportion. 
 A merely strong character is as one-sided and im- 
 perfect as a pugilist is an abnormal specimen of 
 physical manhood. A merely gentle, loving character 
 is often pitiably weak and unpractical. The two must 
 unite, and, as in good architecture, so in good character- 
 building, the beauty must not exist for its own sake, 
 but to adorn the strength. A true man is strong in 
 his convictions, but gentle in his judgments ; constant 
 of purpose, but gentle to the weak and mindful of 
 
STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 1 85 
 
 others' rights ; positive, but humble ; energetic, but 
 meek ; able to fight when necessary, but always de- 
 sirous of peace. This is the ideal which Christianity 
 has taught the world, and which the world is slowly 
 coming to understand. It is the ideal of character 
 which I would hold before you ; and my declaration 
 is that a true Christian alone will be able to realize 
 this ideal. Only if your souls are God's temples can 
 you be true men ; for strength and beauty are in His 
 sanctuary. 
 
 Let me briefly suggest the elements of strength in 
 a Christian character. 
 
 It is made out of strong material. What is the 
 material which composes Christian character? It is, 
 to express it in one phrase, the confidence of being, 
 for Christ's sake, reconciled with God. That is the 
 granite of which the living sanctuary of God is built. 
 Like the granite, it is composed of several elements. 
 It is, for example, an intense belief, and any man who 
 believes anything with all his might is so far forth a 
 strong man. The strong men of all history have been 
 intense believers : believers in an idea, or believers in a 
 theory, or, if nothing more, believers in themselves. 
 But no man is strong in whom doubt is a permanent 
 quality, and the mere fact that a Christian believes is 
 of itself an element of strength. 
 
 But, besides belief, this Christian character is com- 
 posed of love to God. That of itself means much. It 
 
I 86 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 means that a great change has passed over the man's 
 soul, whereby the naturally selfish tendency of his 
 disposition has been forever reversed. If I may con- 
 tinue the figure of stone, I would say that a new law 
 of crystallization has taken control of the elements of 
 character, so that instead of the tendency to disinte- 
 grate, it now becomes harder and harder through being 
 in love with God. The man has now found the right 
 law of his being. He appreciates the supreme beauty 
 and authority of God. He takes from God his stand- 
 ard of life. He desires to be like God. He is con- 
 fident that God is ruling the world, and therefore he 
 does not fear men, nor fear trial, nor doubt about the 
 issue. A man who thus loves and trusts God cannot 
 but be a strong character. He will not be easily 
 moved by any temptation. He will not be unduly 
 anxious about the future. He will be in no hurry. 
 He will have the calm assurance that, be the present 
 mysteries what they may, all is going well. And he 
 will feel that his life is inseparably linked with the 
 Highest One himself. " Love is strong as death," 
 says the old writer : and if we see instances of the 
 love of man to man in which this is true, much 
 more is it true that in proportion as a human soul 
 loves God will it be firm against evil and strong 
 for all good. The mighty granite masses out of 
 which we quarry the material for our great buildings 
 were once in a fluid, molten state, but they have 
 
STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 1 87 
 
 crystallized into the hardest of rocks. So will belief 
 in God and Christ, and love to God in Christ, crys- 
 tallize a soul into the strongest of characters. 
 
 Then, too, a Christian character has a strong foun- 
 dation as well as strong material. The sanctuary 
 of God is built on the rock. I mean that underneath 
 a Christian's life there lies the finished redemption 
 which Jesus Christ has made for all who will accept 
 it. That court-house could not have been built on 
 springing ground or on wooden piles driven in a 
 marsh. The first requirement for a large building is 
 a good foundation. So, I say, the strength of a 
 Christian character lies not only in the material out 
 of which it is made, but in the foundation on which 
 it stands. It stands on Christ, the Rock of Ages. 
 " Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and 
 doeth them," said Jesus, " I will liken him unto a 
 wise man which built his house upon a rock." Un- 
 derneath the Christian is the atonement for him 
 which Jesus offered on Calvary, and the promise of 
 God to justify every believer, and the power of the 
 Saviour, who is even now sitting at the right hand 
 of God, ruling and defending us, and interceding in 
 our behalf. That is a strong foundation. Think of a 
 life which stands on such a rock as that. The strength 
 of a character depends on what it has in reserve, on 
 what is behind the outward appearance, as much as on 
 what is visible. If so, that is the strongest character 
 
I 88 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 which has underneath it and round about it the ever- 
 lasting arms. 
 
 Then a Christian character has strong supports. 
 Its parts are held together by strong beams. Its 
 top rests on strong pillars. These are such as the 
 following. It has a definite aim given to its life, and 
 one which reason and conscience declare to be the 
 highest. It lives for God. It blesses man in order to 
 serve God. It sees in even the commonest work an 
 opportunity of obedience to the heavenly Father ; and 
 through all varieties of the fortunes and vicissitudes of 
 life one crowning purpose, one holy spirit runs. It is 
 also cheered by the assurance of God's love. Its love 
 to God is no unreturned affection. On the contrary, 
 it has itself been evoked in answer to God's love to 
 man. So the warmth of God's love is ever fall- 
 ing on a Christian character. It is supported by the 
 promises, as by mighty pillars, which no Samson of 
 infidelity can pull down. It is held together by divine 
 commands, as by iron beams which apportion to each 
 part of its life its proper works, as a building is divided 
 into rooms and stories ; while from above the sunlight 
 of hope falls from a never-clouded sky. 
 
 Is there not strength in this sanctuary ? Such a 
 man is a strong character. The foundation on which 
 he rests, the material out of which his character is 
 composed, the supports by which it is upheld and 
 arranged, are all of granite and of iron. Such a char- 
 
STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 1 89 
 
 acter is worth having. Its possessor will have a con- 
 stant source of satisfaction. He cannot but be useful 
 to others. He will be able to guide the thoughts of 
 others. He will be one on whom other men will lean 
 in their times of need. Oh, as we see some men tossed 
 to and fro by doubts until they hardly know what to 
 trust and what to hope for; as we see others yielding 
 like unmanly slaves to every assault of temptation, 
 afraid of men, afraid of pain, afraid of themselves ; and 
 trembling as with weak hearts they think of death and 
 the hereafter; we point you with joy to the possibility 
 of every one becoming strong and useful and great, 
 by opening your soul to the God who is willing to 
 inhabit it. Strength is in His sanctuary. If you let 
 Him be your master-builder, you may be strong. 
 
 Yes, and your lives may be beautiful as well as 
 strong. For beauty, too, is in His sanctuary. Cer- 
 tainly, it is better to be strong than to be beautiful. 
 The elements of strength are those which do' the most 
 important work. It is better that a building should 
 be strong than that it should be ornamental. And the 
 same is true of character as well. Ornament, more- 
 over, ought to overlay strength. It is not good art to 
 put into a building a useless feature merely because it 
 is beautiful. The true artist will beautify the useful. 
 The practical purpose will be first. So a character 
 which aims to be merely beautiful is not to be admired. 
 It becomes mere bric-a-brac. It has the taint of cos- 
 
190 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 metics. The man who is absorbed in the mere adorn- 
 ment of his character is not much beyond the man 
 who is absorbed in the adornment of his body. No, 
 beauty must be superimposed upon strength. The 
 practical usefulness and moral power of life are to be 
 the first things sought. Then you have something 
 worth adorning. It is the hard stones which take the 
 best polish. It is the strong, earnest characters which 
 may be made the most beautiful. 
 
 But, this being understood, beauty is to be desired. 
 Let me point out, in a word, the beauty of a true 
 Christian life. To my mind, it consists in the right 
 proportion in which every element of a complete man- 
 hood exists in it. This certainly is one of the prime 
 elements of beauty of form, whether in man or other 
 things ; and a beautiful mind or character is, I think, 
 one marked by this same quality. A beautiful life is 
 one which fulfills the relations in which it is placed, and 
 estimates each one of them at the right value. It can 
 perform the sterner duties and not neglect the gentler 
 ones. It knows when to work and when to play. It 
 renders the tribute due to superiors, inferiors, and 
 equals. In each period of its existence it realizes the 
 idea of that period. Most lives are obviously incom- 
 plete. The material side crushes the spiritual ; the 
 near obscures the distant ; a little truth hides a greater 
 one. Most lives are also obviously ill balanced. The 
 hurry to be rich strangles the duty to be just. The 
 
STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 191 
 
 desire to be great prevents the possibility of being 
 kind. The love of pleasure mortgages the pleasure 
 of the future for the apparent pleasure of the present. 
 Do I not declare something to which your consciences 
 assent when I say that the ordinary life of a worldly 
 man is consciously incomplete and ill balanced, and 
 that even if it be successful, and even if it have the ele- 
 ments of strength, it is not beautiful? It is a distorted 
 life. It is a deformed life. It is a misshapen life. It 
 neglects as much as it attempts to perform. 
 
 I point you, therefore, to the beauty of a Christian 
 life. I do not say the life of all Christians, for the 
 best of us are far from perfect ; but I point you to the 
 life which has had one perfect exemplification and to 
 which we all aspire. The Christian idea of life is 
 beautiful as well as strong. It considers its duties to 
 God as well as those to men. It praises the passive 
 virtues as much as the active. It does not allow the 
 material to smother the spiritual, nor the spiritual to 
 despise the material. It stoops to little things, and 
 aspires to great things. It teaches man's responsibility 
 for motives as well as his accountability for acts and 
 words. It lives in the world and yet above the world. 
 It combines faith in the transitory character of all earthly 
 things, with energy in the performance of present duty. 
 It reconciles sorrow and joy in human existence. It 
 puts man in his proper sphere, directs his eye toward 
 eternity, enables him to walk and live happily on earth, 
 
I92 FA IIJI AND LIFE 
 
 makes him useful, and teaches him to die with peace 
 
 and hope. 
 
 This is the life of a soul which is the temple of the 
 living God. Do you not feel that, as a whole, it is 
 complete, and that in its parts it is rightly propor- 
 tioned ? Aye, strength and beauty are in His sanc- 
 tuary. I have seen such characters ; doubtless you 
 have, too. I have seen them suffer without faint- 
 ing, work without murmuring, believe against hope. 
 I have seen them live with God as truly and as mani- 
 festly as they lived in their own homes. This 
 model I hold up to you. If you want to be a 
 character of this type, the secret of it lies before 
 you. Not by making your souls the abode of 
 envy and selfishness and passion can your char- 
 acter become strong and beautiful. Not, if you 
 merely fill your mind with knowledge, though it 
 be useful knowledge, can you rise to a complete 
 manhood. You must admit God into your hearts. 
 He will make your souls strong and beautiful. 
 
 His Son is the one unblemished example of a sanc- 
 tuary without a flaw or weakness. Yet you may be con- 
 formed unto the image of His Son. I pray you to make 
 your souls His home. Remember that you are build- 
 ing characters — that everything you think and do helps 
 to improve or mar them. Remember that character 
 bears the power of retribution in itself, and that the 
 character you build will be either your prison or your 
 
STRENGTH AND BEAUTY 1 93 
 
 palace, your torture or your blessing, your hell or 
 your heaven. Remember that you were made to be 
 the dwelling-place of God, and that the very capacity 
 of goodness and greatness which is within you will 
 make the ruin more disastrous if you fall. Make, then, 
 God welcome to your soul. Admit Him. Enthrone 
 Him. Place Him in the holy of holies. Make your life 
 to centre in Him and His word. Strength and beauty 
 are in His sanctuary, and you will find it so. Be you 
 the weakest, be you the vilest, you will become all that 
 a man should be, for His strength will become your 
 strength, His beauty your beauty. Build your char- 
 acter for God and by God's help. Be a true Christian ; 
 so will you become a true man. 
 
 13 
 
XI 
 
 THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 
 
 " — But they, measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing 
 themselves among themselves, are not wise." — 2 Cor. x. 12. 
 
 To some people the world is very small. They 
 know but a little part of it, and this they imagine to 
 be all there is. Or, if not ignorant, they think that 
 only the part with which they are intimately connected 
 is worth knowing or considering. To them this 
 is practically the world. They belong to a small 
 circle which plays the same part in their lives that em- 
 pires and millions play in the lives of nations. It may 
 be a social, a political, a literary, or a religious coterie ; 
 or it may combine several of these characteristics. 
 But its smile is their joy, its frown their sorrow. To 
 stand first in it is their ambition. Their keenest 
 pleasure is its applause ; their deepest mortification is 
 its contempt. It gives them their standard of living ; 
 it prescribes their rewards and their privations ; it 
 creates and limits their aspirations. In short, their 
 little coterie is their world, and within its circle there 
 rage all the passions and there exist all the pleasures 
 of a larger life, just as a drop of water, under the 
 
 microscope, looks like a little sea. 
 
 195 
 
I96 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Yet the real world without may not even be aware 
 that their little coterie exists. It is, in fact, but a 
 squad of a company in a regiment of a brigade in 
 a single division of the army. Were it annihilated, 
 the loss would not be great. To those who have seen 
 more of the world, its rewards appear trifling and its 
 opposition is a matter of indifference. Its standards 
 are seen to fall far short of reality. It is a petty affair 
 itself, and its measurements and comparisons are pre- 
 sumptuous or amusing. Whether it be a king's court, 
 or a religious sect, or a social clique, or any other 
 kind of fraternity, its ambitions and jealousies and 
 laurels, to one who has become aware of a greater 
 world beyond it, appear as insignificant as a child's 
 life does in comparison with a man's. 
 
 Nevertheless, in these little spheres are our lots cast. 
 We cannot be citizens of the world. We must be 
 identified with particular places and people. It is only 
 the narrow spirit which mistakes our circle for the 
 world against which we are to contend. To be really 
 wise, we must learn to look beyond our own con- 
 tracted sphere ; must catch sight of the real world 
 outside of it ; must try to realize the small part which 
 we and our company play in the life of the countless 
 host of humanity; must seek to find the fuller truth 
 which lies beyond, and then must return to the little 
 world in which we must needs live, bringing into it 
 the standards and the aims which are drawn from the 
 
THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 1 97 
 
 greater world without, and by which even the least 
 affairs may be dignified and made honorable. 
 
 I see this idea intimated in our text. It appears that 
 the little Corinthian church had become such a narrow 
 coterie as I have described, and the great apostle 
 was sorely vexed by its divisions and its jealousies. 
 It was split into parties, and amid their contentions 
 the greater Church without and the world-wide mission 
 of the Gospel were forgotten. They were chiefly con- 
 cerned with the eloquence of this or that preacher. 
 They probably thought that there was no church so 
 important as that in Corinth, and began to boast of 
 themselves over against each other and those outside, 
 until the heart of St. Paul was ready to break with 
 grief over their folly. 
 
 In contrast with his broad, catholic mind, how 
 petty seem their shameful brawls ! From his point 
 of view this was but one of many churches ; Greece 
 but one of many lands. The world was the object 
 of his solicitude. His plans embraced the Roman 
 Empire itself. His laurels, too, were those given not 
 by man, but by God. His whole estimate of him- 
 self and of them, and his view of truth and life, were 
 in magnificent contrast to their narrow and petty spirit. 
 His was the eye of a statesman and the heart of a 
 pioneer, and he seems to have expressed himself 
 moderately when he assured them, in view of their 
 little cliques and parties, that they who measure 
 
198 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 themselves by themselves, and compare themselves 
 among themselves, are not wise. 
 
 Let us take this, as we have seen, a too common 
 error, and see if, in principle, it be not the great error 
 of mankind, — if it be not the practical mistake by 
 which, more than by aught else, men's consciences are 
 dulled, their desire for true character is perverted, and 
 an appreciation of Jesus Christ is prevented. We 
 have spoken of the little, trivial coteries in which 
 men often find their world. Let us now look not 
 at them, but at the actual world itself, and see how 
 men, in like manner, take from it their standards and 
 measurements, unmindful of what still lies beyond it. 
 
 Is not this the common way ? Men measure them- 
 selves among themselves, and compare themselves 
 with themselves. Human society is the gauge of 
 virtue. This world's laurels are its sole desire. 
 The frown of the world chills the heart ; its transient 
 applause fills the heart with joy. Men are afraid to 
 face the ridicule or opposition of others. They imitate 
 each other slavishly. One rich or successful man 
 becomes a model to a hundred. What society thinks, 
 is esteemed to be truth and right. Social custom is 
 law. In fine, the common way of the world is to 
 make it the measure of its own virtue and the giver of 
 its own reward. It is only a larger coterie. Its prin- 
 ciple of judgment is but the working out, on a wider 
 scale, of the narrowness of folly which the world itself 
 
THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 1 99 
 
 satirizes when it is practised in some smaller circle 
 within its own bounds. For, meanwhile, one who has 
 caught sight of a still greater universe beyond this 
 world, feels that the world's standard is still too small. 
 This is the very thing which in all ages and in all 
 religions has made prophets and martyrs. The world 
 itself honors those who have denied and defied its 
 standards. They have believed that its rewards were 
 not worthy to be compared with those which a greater 
 world would give. They have believed that they 
 saw truth scouted or perverted by society, and have 
 chosen to live for it, in spite of society's customs. 
 To them, therefore, the world at large is guilty of 
 the same folly of which the narrowest clique is. 
 
 You take one who has always lived in a secluded 
 place and introduce him to the business or society 
 of a metropolis, and the effect upon him will fairly 
 illustrate what inspiration works in a mind when it 
 reveals to it the issues of this life, and the measure- 
 ments which prevail in the vaster world beyond our 
 present range of vision. From such a revelation one 
 returns with an oppressive sense of the partiality and 
 pettiness of this world's judgments, and with the feel- 
 ing that many of them will be forever reversed when 
 life is measured by the standard of absolute truth and 
 worth. 
 
 Let me point out some of the ways in which 
 this folly is practised, and the first two shall be ways 
 
200 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 in the criticism of which we shall doubtless all be 
 agreed. 
 
 Take the matter of culture or knowledge. Who 
 is the wise man ? Shall we decide this by measur- 
 ing ourselves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves 
 among ourselves ? Some do so. The besetting sin 
 of culture is pride, and this because it is so prone to 
 compare itself favorably with the less educated mul- 
 titude. It is apt to congratulate itself that it knows 
 more than others. It has read more widely. It is 
 familiar with more languages. It has accumulated a 
 larger store of facts. It has studied Nature and the 
 sciences, and is instructed in the wonderful discoveries 
 and the equally wonderful theories of the day. In its 
 coarser forms, this becomes mere pedantry. The man 
 who boasts of his education must have a very low 
 standard. Nothing is more offensive than such pe- 
 dantry, with its displays of learning which are so 
 often combined with really profound ignorance. 
 
 True culture is not guilty of this folly, — and for 
 the reason that it is more impressed by the greater 
 amount yet to be known than by the compara- 
 tively little which has been acquired. Instead of 
 comparing itself with the ignorance of others, it will 
 think of those who are still more advanced and press 
 on toward their place. Is its study history? It will 
 caution us in drawing inferences, and make us con- 
 scientious in the investigation of facts. Is nature 
 
THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 201 
 
 its study ? It will recognize that but a little space 
 has been cleared, and vastly more is still shrouded 
 in darkness. Hence humility is an essential mark 
 of true culture. It will be ready to admit mis- 
 takes. It will feel the need of caution. It will 
 wholly revolt from the measurements which the 
 world is apt to make, and feel rather that they are 
 not worthy to be named in the presence of the 
 ideal of truth and knowledge which the really wise 
 man has. 
 
 Or turn from culture to consider social position. Who 
 is the great man ? Who is the honorable man ? Shall 
 we decide by measuring ourselves by ourselves, and 
 comparing ourselves among ourselves ? Some do so. 
 One is a little richer than another ; one thinks himself 
 a little better born and bred. One has mounted on a 
 little pinnacle of political fame, and for the moment is 
 the object of all eyes. The world is full of such little 
 great men, — great in the view of this or that nation, — 
 it may be only of this or that party ; and by compar- 
 ing the outward state of men's lives, — by measuring 
 their fortunes or their renown, — the world is apt to de- 
 cide who shall bear its honorable names. Yet the world 
 itself knows that its estimate is false, and it ridicules the 
 favored objects of its own judgment. It cannot help 
 seeing that time changes the relative positions of men, 
 and that what is so changeable cannot be of real worth. 
 Society is almost as restless and varying as the waves 
 
202 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 of the sea; now the drops are on the crest, and 
 now they are in the trough of the billows. The world, 
 I say, itself feels that character is the only test of real 
 worth, as it is the only thing that lasts through the 
 changes, and that character must be judged by a far 
 higher standard than that which ordinary society em- 
 ploys. To rely on the judgments of society in this 
 matter is folly, for these judgments are soon reversed. 
 There must be another test, found not in society, but 
 in the great ideals of virtue, purity, and righteousness, 
 of which ordinary society is but dimly conscious, but 
 which, in reality, decide true worth. 
 
 So far, I suppose, all will agree, and yet we have not 
 applied the principle in the really most important 
 direction. We have only to apply it to morals in 
 order to become aware of the real danger which lurks 
 in our common error. For, let us ask, Who is the 
 good man ? Shall we decide this, too, by measuring 
 ourselves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves 
 among ourselves ? Many do so. Is not this, in fact, 
 the common way of estimating moral characters ? 
 Men say, " The good man is he who fulfils the social 
 standard." Society requires a certain amount of 
 honesty, a certain amount of decency, ordinary truth- 
 fulness, general morality of life. It is not particular as 
 to the motives from which these spring. It is content 
 with the thing itself. Neither is it particular about the 
 decree to which these are carried. If men are hard 
 
THE FALSE AXD THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 203 
 
 pressed, they may quietly violate the social standard 
 without much danger. 
 
 But the gauge of goodness is the outward habits 
 of society, the common customs of the country. 
 It is a standard which does not concern itself with 
 the motives which lie beneath conduct, or with the 
 heaven which lies above it, but only with the society 
 which lies about it and on the same plane with 
 itself. Hence the practical test of goodness is 
 just this comparison of one with another. Men 
 say, " Look at the vicious, the criminal classes, that 
 violate with impunity the social laws : are we not 
 much better than they? Nay, look at the men of 
 our class. I am as honest as yonder Christian ; as 
 self-respecting, as much trusted in the world. I am 
 not guilty of the follies in which these others quietly 
 indulge. I am not mean or stingy like some one else 
 I know. I am quite as liberal as those who belong to 
 the Church." Such is the theory of many people, and 
 such the practice of many more. They measure them- 
 selves by themselves, and compare themselves among 
 themselves. The whole question of their own moral 
 worth is decided by a comparison of their own with 
 the virtues or vices of other men. They never rise 
 beyond the judgment of this world. In a multitude 
 of ways, both great and little, their whole estimate of 
 goodness turns on differences which may be noted in 
 mankind itself. 
 
204 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Now we say, with the apostle, of such a doctrine 
 of goodness, that it is not wise : both because it is 
 necessarily proud and because it is evidently partial. 
 It is proud. There is in it the very essence of self- 
 righteousness. The most it can do for a man is to 
 make him satisfied with himself. If he comes up to its 
 mark, he is apt to be conceited and boastful ; perhaps 
 not offensively, but yet in a quiet, complacent way, 
 undoubtedly so. Its judgment does not go beyond 
 that of the Pharisee : " God, I thank Thee that I 
 am not as other men are." Then it is evidently a 
 partial and ignorant estimate. It is ignorant in its 
 judgment of other people. What does this com- 
 placent critic know of the real life of the neighbors 
 with whom he favorably contrasts himself? They 
 may have virtues of which he knows absolutely noth- 
 ing. He is ignorant, too, of his own real state. He 
 does not think how his motives and principles appear 
 when judged from a higher point of view. 
 
 This is the common morality of the world. It is 
 the great foe to the gospel. It is the shield under 
 which multitudes hide themselves from the arrows of 
 God's truth. And what is it, when fairly examined, but 
 the same narrow and foolish spirit which in the matters 
 of culture and social position we are so ready to con- 
 demn ? Oh, it is impossible that this should not be a 
 great mistake. If, from our broader knowledge of the 
 world and of mankind, we look down with disdain on 
 
THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 205 
 
 the little cliques and coteries in which some narrow 
 minds find their standard and their happiness ; if the 
 man who has travelled and observed much, ridicules 
 the pettiness of those who think their little sect or 
 village the pattern and gauge of the universe ; ought 
 not we, who too frequently find in this larger world its 
 own judge and own jury, to look upward and beyond 
 it, and ask if there be not a larger sphere still, of which 
 ours is but a fragment ? God tells us that there is. 
 Conscience tells us so. The very ideals of truth and 
 righteousness tell us so. There are many moun- 
 tain peaks from which we look out on the mighty 
 universe, and from which our hamlets below are scarcely 
 visible ; and from these ought you and I to return to 
 our daily spheres not to measure ourselves by our- 
 selves, or to compare ourselves among ourselves, but 
 rather convinced that it is for man to be humble in his 
 culture, humble in his estimate of his own importance, 
 and, most of all, humble in his opinion of his own 
 character and moral deserts. 
 
 Thus, then, in some way the common error must 
 be escaped. Yet as men are by nature they have 
 scarcely any other test available. They have certain 
 instinctive ideals, certain great aspirations after a nobler 
 life, but these are vague and impracticable instructors. 
 Is there no other standard by which men may estimate 
 themselves ? Let us confine ourselves to the question 
 of goodness. This is the really important question, and 
 
206 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 the one about which there is the most difference of 
 opinion. If we are not to measure ourselves by our- 
 selves, and compare ourselves among ourselves, with 
 what arc we to be measured and compared ? 
 
 The Bible answers this, as I have intimated, by dis- 
 closing a world above this. It takes us to the lofty 
 tops of its Sinai, and Hermon, and Olivet, and to the 
 spot called Calvary, where a still wider view of the 
 unseen world is offered. The Bible does for us in this 
 matter what the Copernican theory has done for astron- 
 omy. It locates this world in its real place and rela- 
 tions in the universe. The astronomer has now mapped 
 out the heavens, and as in fancy the mind flies under 
 his guidance through the measureless distances of 
 space, — as the multitudinous stars resolve themselves 
 into systems, — one begins to feel that the earth is a 
 much smaller affair than we have thought ; that so far 
 from being the centre of the universe, it is one of the 
 least of its constituent members, and that, whatever 
 may be true of the earth itself, the universe must have 
 been created for far wider ends than the mere life of the 
 sons of Adam. 
 
 So does the Christian revelation disclose a spir- 
 itual universe above this world. We discover that 
 the battle between good and evil, of which each of 
 us knows something in his own soul, is a conflict in 
 which spiritual powers of good and evil are engaged. 
 It opens to us a world of angelic and glorified beings ; 
 
THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 20J 
 
 and then it passes beyond even these to disclose Christ, 
 in whom there shines forth the character of the unseen, 
 eternal, infinite God. It does not stop until it thus 
 reaches the centre and source of all existence, and 
 from this lofty point it shows that all things, down to 
 the veiy least in the scale, have worth according as 
 they do or do not fulfil their part in relation to Him 
 who is above all. Here, then, we reach the only point 
 of view for a just estimate, and the comparison of man 
 with man seems now still more petty and worthless. 
 Here we discover the law to be kept, the ideal to be 
 realized, the test to be applied. Earth is but the 
 footstool of the great King. We who live at His feet 
 are to see in Him the measure of moral worth. " Be 
 ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in 
 heaven is perfect." 
 
 Thus we learn what is man's only true life, and 
 thereby we can measure ourselves as we never can do 
 under the influence of false views of life generated by 
 the world. The Lord told us the great secret when He 
 said, " This is life eternal that they might know Thee 
 the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou 
 hast sent " — and the apostle makes the practical 
 application of this now open secret when he sets 
 over against the petty jealousies and ambitions of 
 Corinth this motto : " He that glorieth, let him glory 
 in the Lord." His words are quoted from Jere- 
 miah, and the old prophet's language is worth re- 
 
208 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 membcring. "Thus saith the Lord," he cried, "Let 
 not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let 
 the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich 
 man glory in his riches : but let him that glorieth 
 glory in this, that he understandcth and knoweth 
 Me." 
 
 You see that this is the divine idea of what human 
 life ought to be. It is that manner of thinking, and 
 living, and acting which is determined by the knowl- 
 edge of God Himself. It differs from the common 
 life of men by being determined by a different object. 
 The life of most men, such as I have described it, is 
 determined by the customs, the laws, the pursuits of 
 other men, and of the world. These make up life's 
 environment. From them it takes its standards and 
 tests. By them it measures and compares itself. In 
 them it lives. But this is not our proper element. 
 This is not our true life. We were made to be deter- 
 mined in all our living by God himself. This is life, 
 yea, eternal life, to know Him, the only true God, and 
 Jesus Christ whom He has sent. 
 
 Take a child of naturally fine abilities and of high 
 birth, and place him amongst the poor and ignorant, 
 and in vicious surroundings, and he will be contami- 
 nated by them. They will supply his idea of life. If he 
 be a little better than most of his associates, he will 
 still be infected by their ways. Yet he was not made 
 for that. He was made for a purer circle and a nobler 
 
THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 200, 
 
 lot, and he will discover his true character, he will 
 be able to judge of his unfortunate circumstances, only 
 by being taken back into the place which ought to 
 have been his at the first Then in a new home, with 
 new friends, with better aims, he discovers his true 
 life, and he looks back with horror equally at the state 
 in which he once was, and at the ignorance with which 
 he was then blinded. 
 
 So when God comes into a man's sight, when 
 he knows God and begins to love Him, a new life 
 begins. Then at once the man's estimate of himself 
 changes. Instead of comparing himself with others, 
 he compares himself with God. Instead of thinking 
 how much he is above others, he thinks how far he is 
 below God. And, what is still more important, instead 
 of judging others and himself by outward deeds, 
 he judges himself at least by the inner state of his 
 heart. He feels that life with God is a matter not of 
 the body, but of the soul, and that every motive of 
 the mind ought to be in harmony with God. There- 
 upon he begins to question his motives. He looks 
 more narrowly into his passions and appetites. He 
 is ashamed of his thoughts. He feels that he 
 owes duties to God as well as to men. Religion 
 becomes a necessity for him. His true life is a 
 religious life. He thinks not of human society with 
 its narrow and changing views, but of divine society 
 
 with its real and eternal relations. His pride is 
 14 
 
2IO FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 rebuked. His selfishness begins to blush. He becomes 
 aware of his sinfulness. He sees what he ought to be 
 and knows that he is not. He cries no longer, " God, 
 I thank Thee that I am not as other men are !" He 
 does not even consider what other men are, for at 
 them he looks no longer. He looks at God, and then 
 at his own soul, and cries, " God be merciful to me a 
 sinner !" 
 
 I would like you to note in what ways God has 
 provided for our becoming aware of the true meas- 
 urement of life. What means does He employ thus 
 to show us what we ought to be and are not ? 
 
 There is, first, the revelation of His law, — the old 
 Jewish way, and yet a way still to be used. He has 
 revealed to us our duty, and it is summed up, as Christ 
 said, in these words, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy 
 God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and 
 with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy 
 neighbor as thyself." See what a law this is ! It 
 regards not our acts so much as our motives. Thou 
 shalt love ! It makes God supreme and first. It puts 
 our neighbors on a level with ourselves. We cannot 
 but admit that such would be the noblest life; and this 
 is God's revealed law — the least violation of which is sin. 
 
 Paul describes the change wrought thus in him. 
 Once without the law, when he paid it no attention, he 
 was alive. He thought himself so. He was proud of 
 his attainment of self-righteousness. He was the 
 
THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 211 
 
 typical Pharisee. He measured himself with the Gen- 
 tiles, compared himself with the publicans. " I am 
 holier than thou." But by the grace of God the com- 
 mandment came to him, that is, he realized its require- 
 ments. He became aware how far short he had fallen. 
 How he had sinned against man and God. He looked 
 at it as an impossible peak that he never could climb. 
 Sin revived within him — he became conscious of its 
 presence — and he died — he felt himself a lost, dis- 
 obedient man. Let any one now do the same, face 
 the law, look at its requirement, and even the man 
 who by earthly measurements ranks the highest, will 
 be forced to say that, like all the rest, he, too, is a 
 sinner. 
 
 But God has taken a still more effective way of 
 showing us the true standard. He has embodied His 
 whole law in the character of one, Jesus Christ, His 
 Son. The character of Christ is the simple, practi- 
 cal, universally applicable standard by which we can 
 rebuke the partial false measurements of the world. 
 Christ has made a new ideal of life for men. He is 
 like the rising sun, in whose light we see the hue and 
 shape of things. How narrow the Jews look, how 
 poor the royalty of Herod, how presumptuous the 
 claims of Rome, before Him ! He has left us an 
 example that we should follow His steps ; " who did 
 no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth : who, 
 when He was reviled, reviled not again ; when He 
 
2 I 2 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 suffered, He threatened not; but committed Himself to 
 Him that judgeth righteously." Here is living for 
 God in its perfection — by faith, by obedience, by self- 
 sacrifice, in pureness, in love. When on earth, He 
 silenced the disciples who contended as to which was 
 the greatest, by showing them that they were to be 
 servants of all. He awakened the sense of sin in the 
 minds of all who appreciated His beauty. He was and 
 is God's great rebuke to us as well as our Saviour, — 
 saving because rebuking, leading to life with God, be- 
 cause showing the folly and sin of life with the world. 
 
 Let a man bring himself into Christ's presence, and 
 he will feel that his life needs renovation. Though, 
 measuring himself with others, he may be inclined 
 to flatter his pride, it is not so when measuring him- 
 self with Christ. Here the best and the poorest, 
 according to our estimate, say, " We are not worthy." 
 In Christ, man sees his duty and his failure, his 
 ideal and his sad reality. The petty differences be- 
 tween men themselves seem small before this difference 
 between all men and Christ. Before Him it is impos- 
 sible to measure ourselves by ourselves, and compare 
 ourselves among ourselves. We are too conscious of 
 the comparison with Him, and at the feet of Jesus, 
 pride, self-righteousness, jealousy, envy, — all that is 
 false and mean, — hide their heads in shame, feeling 
 themselves to be only the more condemned. 
 
 I appeal to you practically to make this the test 
 
THE FALSE AND THE TRUE MEASUREMENT 213 
 
 of yourselves. Some of us are under this delusion : 
 we measure ourselves with other people. We think 
 we are as good as they are, that if they are saved, 
 certainly we shall be. Perhaps meaner thoughts, — 
 jealous and envious, — lurk within. But let us not 
 look at others at all. In this matter we have nothing 
 to do with them. We are before God. What is His 
 judgment ? What is the real truth ? I do not see how 
 anyone can venture to measure himself with Christ 
 without feeling his need of redemption, of entire re- 
 newal ; his need of atoning blood and of divine 
 spiritual power. I plead with you to cast your self- 
 confidence to the winds. Look beyond this little 
 world, these narrow spheres, the ignorance and blun- 
 ders of common life ; look up to God. Feel that you 
 were made for Him, and that you need Him. Take 
 His estimate of you rather than the world's. Take 
 His way of salvation. Think of God's judgment, and 
 seek from Jesus Christ the eternal life. 
 
XII 
 
 ENOCH 
 
 "And Enoch walked with God: and he was not; for God took 
 him." — Genesis v. 24. 
 
 The men through whom God speaks to us most 
 plainly are commonly exceptional characters. In some 
 marked particulars they differ from the common types, 
 and the points in which they differ are those from 
 which we learn the most. They emphasize so strongly 
 some principle that it becomes a peculiar mark which 
 distinguishes them from other men, and is apt to 
 absorb their whole attention and make them in some 
 respects one-sided or, at least, men of one idea. 
 God does not intend all to be like them in this, 
 but, in order that the truth which they convey may 
 be given its fair share in the attention of others, 
 it must be intensely exhibited in the lives of a few. 
 Truth must sometimes be even exaggerated in order 
 to be established. It will find afterwards its true place 
 and proportion, but at the beginning it must be pro- 
 claimed as if it alone were true. They who bear in 
 their lives, therefore, the messages of God to us have 
 been exceptional characters. The Bible often exhibits 
 but one view of their lives in order that it alone may 
 
 215 
 
2l6 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 be remembered. They are meant to stand out boldly 
 and in relief from the common level of the world that 
 they may catch our eyes and impress our minds. 
 
 In some such relief the figure of Enoch stands out 
 from the dull, monotonous list of the antediluvian patri- 
 archs. They all, indeed, appear to have been excep- 
 tions to the common life and habits of their distant age. 
 We know almost nothing of that former world. The 
 Bible does not delay upon it, further than to trace the 
 two great lines of the children of Cain and those of Seth. 
 It was written for us to whom the world after the 
 flood, — the world which began again in the children 
 of Noah, — is practically the only world. It hastens 
 over the long lives of the early patriarchs with scarcely 
 more than mention of their names. We see indi- 
 cated only that among the descendants of Cain some 
 progress was made in the arts ; that cities were 
 founded ; that the true religion was preserved among 
 a few, while the majority of men fell into very evil 
 ways ; that, as in later times, the wicked persecuted 
 the righteous. These are about the only items of in- 
 formation that have been handed down. The whole 
 race was soon swept away, and history was to take a 
 new start. ' It was unnecessary, therefore, to do more 
 than connect the later age with that of the first temp- 
 tation and the fall ; and to do this by recording the list 
 of faithful men who, unlike the mass of their contem- 
 poraries, preserved from generation to generation the 
 
ENOCH 2 1 7 
 
 faith which in the new age after the deluge was to be 
 first conserved and then spread abroad. 
 
 But while of the other patriarchs, whose long lives 
 connected Adam, the father of the first world, with 
 Noah, the father of the second, nothing is known be- 
 yond the fact of their existence and the length of their 
 lives, the sacred writers have intimated that Enoch 
 was especially noteworthy. He was evidently a vigor- 
 ous exception to the society of his day. He appears 
 to have been a prophet ; like Noah, too, a preacher of 
 righteousness; and to have boldly declaimed against 
 the sins of the men about him, warning them of 
 their certain punishment. This we learn from the 
 book of Jude, where that writer seems to place the 
 seal of inspiration upon the common Jewish tradi- 
 tion of his day, telling us that Enoch, the seventh 
 from Adam, prophesied against all future unright- 
 eousness, saying, " Behold, the Lord cometh with ten 
 thousands of His saints, to execute judgment upon 
 all, and to convince all that are ungodly among them 
 of all their ungodly deeds which they have ungodly 
 committed, and of all their hard speeches which un- 
 godly sinners have spoken against Him." This single 
 extract gives us a glimpse into the moral position 
 which Enoch occupied. He was a protestant against 
 the ways of the world about him. He proclaimed the 
 inevitable coming of the Lord to judgment. In the 
 eyes of the later Christian writer, Enoch was the first 
 
2l8 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 of the long line of prophets and apostles who have 
 rebuked the sins of their several ages, and warned 
 men to fly from the wrath to come. 
 
 But this early prophet seems to have been not only 
 an exception to the mass of society about him, but 
 exceptional even among the good. For why else 
 should the writer of Genesis have thought him worthy 
 of special comment even in this meagre and rapid 
 genealogy ? This fifth chapter of Genesis is solemn 
 in its very brevity. It is like the tolling of a bell, 
 announcing birth and death. It tells us of the vanity 
 of life, when generations come and go with a mention 
 only of their entrance and their exit. It is human life 
 skeletonized. We hear in it the tramp of battalions 
 of the dead. It reduces life to its simplest elements. 
 " Seth lived a hundred and five years and begat Enos ; 
 and Seth lived after he begat Enos eight hundred and 
 seven years, and begat sons and daughters : and all 
 the days of Seth were nine hundred and twelve 
 years, and he died." That is a specimen of the whole. 
 Eight times the simple words " and he died " dismiss, 
 as with a gesture, the lives of men whose years 
 reached to centuries, and who doubtless did much 
 that was noble and good during the term of their 
 pilgrimage. But over Enoch the writer lingers for a 
 moment. There was something in his religious life 
 worthy of special remembrance. It is summed up 
 in the expressive words, " He walked with God." He 
 
ENOCH 219 
 
 was saintlier than even the saints ; more devout than 
 even the faithful. His reproofs came well from the lips 
 of one who seemed to be ever in the presence of the 
 Almighty. While the art and the culture of that dim 
 age have perished, while even the good deeds of good 
 men have been unrecorded, the character of the man 
 of whom it was right to say emphatically that he 
 walked with God, has been preserved to be an exam- 
 ple and a stimulus to us men of a new world and a 
 later day. 
 
 That this was no false judgment of posterity upon 
 the character of Enoch is proved by the fact that 
 he was honored by being, most of all, exceptional 
 in the manner of his departure from earth. He did 
 not live as long as the rest of the patriarchs. All 
 the days of Enoch were three hundred and sixty-five 
 years. He suddenly disappeared. It has been sup- 
 posed by some that he was persecuted, and that the 
 simple phrase, "God took him," is designed to intimate 
 that the Lord caught him away from the hatred of a 
 wicked world. At any rate, long before the natural 
 term of his life was reached, " he was not found, for 
 God had translated him." We are told nothing of the 
 manner of his translation. We hear of no chariots of 
 fire, as in the case of Elijah. But, from a life with 
 God on earth, he was taken to a closer life with God 
 elsewhere, and thus peculiar honor was set upon his 
 name; and as by his character he gave the world an 
 
220 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 example of how to live, so in his departure hence 
 he has given a lesson of how such a life may end. 
 
 Thus his dim form becomes somewhat more distinct 
 as we study it. The moral of his life is plain. He is 
 no gigantic myth. Ignorance has not exaggerated his 
 shape and deeds. The sober quiet of inspiration has 
 been maintained even in this most ancient tradition ; 
 and the name of Enoch suggests now just what God 
 intended it to suggest. The exceptional features of his 
 life have been preserved for our instruction. The rest 
 may perish with the age to which Enoch belonged. 
 
 We may consider first the description of his char- 
 acter. He is not the only man in Scripture of whom 
 it is said that he walked with God. The same is 
 said of Noah; and in one of the Psalms (the 16th) 
 we find an expression which intimates a like fellowship. 
 " I have set the Lord always before me," says David ; 
 " because He is at my right hand, I shall not be 
 moved." In connection, however, with most others 
 of the ancient saints we have another phrase, express- 
 ive of a less intimate communion with God. Abra- 
 ham and Isaac and Jacob are said to have walked 
 before the Lord, as though they were ever mindful of 
 His watchful eye. So Hezekiah prayed, " I beseech 
 Thee, O Lord, remember now how I have walked 
 before Thee in truth and with a perfect heart, and have 
 done that which is good in Thy sight." The Psalmist 
 likewise exclaims, " I will walk before the Lord in the 
 
ENOCH 22 1 
 
 land of the living." This phrase, " To walk with God," 
 seems to suggest more intimate companionship. Very 
 often do we see the beginning and the end of a process 
 of history converge ; and so here, in the dawn of 
 religion, this patriarch anticipated the closer fellowship 
 with his Maker which Christ has now instituted with 
 His people, but which the Jewish dispensation, with its 
 strong consciousness of sin, did not always as fully 
 exhibit. We are reminded of how Christ promised, 
 " Lo, I am with you alway," and of how He prayed 
 for us, " That they all may be one ; as Thou, Father, 
 art in Me, and I in Thee, that they also may be one in 
 us." We recall also the apostle's declaration, " Our 
 fellowship is with the Father, and with His Son Jesus 
 Christ." This, I say, Enoch did. By him Eden had 
 been regained, and, almost as man had done before 
 the fall, he walked with God. 
 
 Now we have in this the model of a spiritual Chris- 
 tian life, and I would like you to compare your daily 
 living with this example. We here see a man on terms 
 of intimate fellowship with God. There is the inter- 
 change of thought between them. The Maker receives 
 the aspiration, the prayer, and the love of the creature ; 
 and the creature receives directly, without any inter- 
 vention, the truth, the love, the spiritual influence of his 
 Maker. It is the communion of friends, — no less real 
 because the one is infinitely greater than the other. 
 What a marvellous truth this is ! How incredible it 
 
222 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 has always seemed to skeptical minds, and equally so 
 to those that are merely superstitious. How false 
 religion has cast man prostrate at the feet of his 
 Maker, like a slave before a savage lord, utterly 
 ignorant of the compassion of Him who said, " I call 
 you not servants, but friends, for all things that I have 
 heard of my Father I have made known unto you " ! 
 How philosophy has ridiculed the notion of God com- 
 muning with man, — has bound Him in His majesty or 
 in His law, — not permitting Him to touch His creatures 
 save through the agency of force and nature ! But 
 how sublimely has practical experience disproved 
 both superstition and philosophy, and demonstrated 
 the truth of Bible teaching, that like as a father 
 pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that 
 fear Him, and that He is not far from any one of us ! 
 This representation does not degrade the Almighty. 
 Far from it. It humanizes God indeed. But then it 
 is the very summit-truth of revelation, that God has 
 become man ; and the possibility of such direct spir- 
 itual fellowship was forever established when the Son 
 of God appeared on earth and mingled with the life 
 of man, and when He, departing, said, " A little 
 while and the world seeth Me no more; but ye see 
 Me : because I live, ye shall live also." But how it 
 exalts man ! 
 
 We say, then, that Enoch gave us the model 
 which all truly spiritual minds have sought to follow, 
 
ENOCH 
 
 223 
 
 and just in proportion as this personal fellowship is felt 
 will faith be mighty. A few years since, in France, a 
 woman who had found Christ through the work of the 
 McAll Mission, gathered some friends in her room to 
 read the Scriptures, and when she had finished she 
 led them in prayer. When she rose, one exclaimed 
 in astonishment, " Do you talk in that way to God ?" 
 Never had the poor soul dared to speak freely to 
 his Maker. Never before had he thought it possible 
 to find the Almighty for himself and in his own soul. 
 Yet this is the personal religion of the Bible ; and as 
 the force which holds the worlds together does so 
 by acting upon each little atom of matter, so is the 
 infinite God revealed in His union with single spirits, 
 that every one may exhibit His grace and receive His 
 friendship. 
 
 Not only so ; with Enoch this fellowship was not, 
 as so often with others, an occasional thing, but 
 the daily habit of his life. He walked with God, as 
 though in the ordinary duties of life his unseen 
 friend went with him ; as though with each step 
 of his pilgrimage his guide accompanied and coun- 
 selled him. Many men, perhaps all, have seasons of 
 special devotion, — know what it is occasionally to com- 
 mune with God. Perhaps they prepare for these times, 
 or perhaps they come like flashes of joyful revelation to 
 the soul. But they are hallowed moments, to which, 
 when gone, they look back with gratitude, and for 
 
224 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 whose return they long. All this is well, — is, I sup- 
 pose, inevitable, but there is danger here. Men are 
 apt to limit to such times the possibility of communion. 
 They identify their power with these seasons. The 
 rest of life becomes almost irreligious by contrast. 
 Religion becomes a thing of spasms, a periodic matter, 
 the summer heat of love followed by the wintry blasts 
 of forgetfulness and worldliness. They may be in the 
 Spirit on the Lord's day, and then think it proper on 
 week days to be altogether in the flesh. 
 
 There is an old legend, which Whittier has versified, 
 intended to teach the peril of overvaluing these seasons 
 of special illumination. It tells of a saint, praying in 
 his cell, to whom a vision of the Lord appeared. But 
 while the disciple gazed in rapture on the blessed face 
 of Christ, he heard the bell of the monaster}', calling 
 him to go forth, as was his custom, to feed at the 
 gate the poor and hungry, who came there at the 
 hour of noon. How strong the temptation to stay and 
 enjoy the vision ! But the good monk obeyed the 
 call of duty, left his place of privilege, performed his 
 task, and then returned to think of the vision he had 
 seen, when lo ! he found it waiting for him. " Hadst 
 thou remained," said the Christ, "I must have gone; 
 because thou didst go, I have remained." 
 
 Very truly may we learn from this that the life of 
 true fellowship with God is not to be found in mere 
 contemplation, but in the daily walks of life. Yea, the 
 
ENOCH 225 
 
 vision will not only tarry for us, it will go with us. 
 Enoch gave us the true idea. It is, not to stand or 
 kneel with God merely, but to walk with Him. We 
 may have God's presence in our shops and offices as 
 well as in the church ; as we walk the streets we 
 may hear the noiseless step of the unseen Guide ; in 
 the doing of daily work, even in our times of recre- 
 ation, God may be with us and we may walk with 
 God. I do not mean that daily life is to be an ecstasy. 
 We need not be always conversing with our Friend. 
 We are to do our work and take our play. But we 
 are always to feel Him near, so that when we have 
 aught to say, we may say it ; when we need aught, we 
 may ask for it; when we desire, we may converse 
 with Him. This would be to carry heaven in our 
 hearts. Sin would not then easily assail us. Our 
 hidden foes would fly from that divine form. We 
 should realize in full force what it is to be reconciled 
 with God, — how deep, how real a meaning Christ's 
 promise had. In short, we should walk with Him, 
 and our steps, however many, would be always tend- 
 ing toward the place where God will give us rest. 
 
 Such, then, was the exceptional type of character 
 manifested by this ancient man of God, and I would 
 like to point out to you the light which other passages 
 of Scripture throw upon the question of how such a 
 life may be attained. 
 
 The first condition of thus dwelling with God is 
 
 15 
 
226 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 humility. This is brought out by the prophet Micah 
 when he says, " What doth the Lord require of 
 thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to 
 walk humbly with thy God?" or, as it should be 
 rendered, " to humble thyself to walk with God." 
 Think of it! Humble thyself to walk with God! 
 How strange ! He might deem it a humbling thing 
 to walk with us, He who is infinite, almighty, 
 supreme, with us who are weak, sinful, rebellious. 
 But for us to humble ourselves to walk with Him ! Is 
 not such fellowship our greatest honor? Are we not 
 permitted by it to enter into a communion in which 
 angels themselves rejoice? How can it be true that 
 humility is its condition ? Alas, experience testifies 
 that this is only too sadly true. The heart of man has 
 been caught by the false show of earthly splendor: his 
 tastes perverted, his poor soul made to aspire to 
 imaginary goods. He is proud too of his strength 
 and independence, so that in his judgment it is a 
 humbling thing to walk with God ! 
 
 Has it not ever been so ? Did not Christ say, " Ye 
 shall be hated of all men for my name's sake " ? Did 
 not Paul say, " God hath chosen the weak things of the 
 world, . . . and things which are despised " ? Do we not 
 read that He makes His abode in the hearts of the lowly 
 and the contrite ? It has, indeed, ever been found so. 
 You cannot reach this lofty height of spiritual fellow- 
 ship, — this life when you may enter the company of 
 
ENOCH 227 
 
 prophets and apostles, — save by renouncing your own 
 works, by confessing your own sins, by feeling, in fine, 
 your own great need of divine help. The way to the 
 kingdom always leads through a strait gate; and he 
 who knows the power and glory of his religion, he 
 who would have the peace which the world can 
 neither give nor take away, is he who seeks God not 
 in the spirit of the Pharisee, but in that of the publican, 
 and who has the humble heart and the mind that is 
 self-abased. 
 
 Then to this we should add that other verse, " Can 
 two walk together, except they be agreed ?" The 
 prophet Malachi describes the holy life of one of the 
 patriarchs in these words, " He walked with me in 
 peace and equity." It is impossible to maintain the 
 spiritual life of which we are speaking if the heart be 
 set on those things with which God can have no sym- 
 pathy. How long do earthly friendships last when 
 you become interested in objects 'in which your friend 
 has no interest? Gradually you drift apart. There 
 may be no open rupture, but the tide of sympathies 
 sweeps you away. Friendship must have some basis, 
 some connecting link. It is the union of souls. 
 Merely to live next to a man does not make him 
 your friend. If you and he have no thoughts, no pur- 
 suits, no objects in common, your friendship will not 
 last, and is probably not worth maintaining. 
 
 This may illustrate our life with God. No man can 
 
228 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 walk with God if his heart be bent upon the world. 
 The thoughts of God find no response within his mind 
 if the plans and the cause of God are of less value to 
 him than his own selfish plans and pleasures. It is vain 
 for that man to sigh after a spiritual life. It is vain for 
 him to perform outward acts of religion. His fellow- 
 ship with God is a pretense. Not unless you and 
 your Redeemer have something in common can you 
 walk with Him. Not unless you feel in sympathy 
 with His mind may you suppose Him to be in sym- 
 pathy with yours. In short, only those who are 
 willing to humble themselves and become as little 
 children can enter into the society of Him who is 
 meek and lowly, holy and pure. When you consider 
 the glory of such a life as Enoch's, and the means by 
 which it may be attained, do you not see what Jesus 
 meant when he said, " Whosoever exalteth himself 
 shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall 
 be exalted " ? Happy are they who have learned the 
 lesson of real humility, and in whose minds has been 
 kindled enthusiasm for the cause of God. They shall 
 walk in the light of His countenance. Alike amid 
 the press of daily duties and in the sweeter hours of 
 worship and meditation, they shall know the ineffable 
 joy and peace of walking with God. 
 
 Let me turn your thoughts now for a moment 
 to Enoch's translation. The simple record in Genesis 
 is, " He was not ; for God took him." This of itself 
 
ENOCH 229 
 
 does not necessarily mean that he did not die. We are 
 assured of its real meaning, however, by the writer of 
 the Epistle to the Hebrews, who tells us that " By faith 
 Enoch was translated that he should not see death ; 
 and was not found, because God had translated 
 him : for before his translation he had this testimony, 
 that he pleased God." Such, too, we might infer from 
 Genesis, since Enoch is the only one in its list of 
 patriarchs of whom it is not distinctly said that he 
 died. The unusual phrase, " God took him," points to 
 some unusual way of exit from the world. But in its 
 simplicity this account is very suggestive. One other 
 man in the Bible is said to have been translated, but 
 how very different the ends of Elijah and Enoch ! The 
 stern prophet of Gilead, — who had been as a fiery blast 
 to his country, whose prayers had scorched the fields 
 for three years, and who had brought down fire from 
 heaven on the priests of Baal, — naturally passed heaven- 
 ward in a chariot of fire. The whole character of 
 Elijah was so rugged and fierce, that no gentle exit 
 would have suited his story. He had been God's 
 thunderbolt, hurled against the guilty house of Ahab, 
 and so in a whirlwind he ascended to God who had 
 inspired his tongue. But of Enoch we are simply told 
 that he disappeared. Apparently, no one saw his 
 departure. The implication of the language of Script- 
 ure is that men sought for him, but he had gone. 
 God quietly took him to Himself. As he had long 
 
23O FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 walked with God, so God, by some unusual way, one 
 day called him home. 
 
 Now what meant the translation of these two 
 prophets ? Why did God in their cases depart from 
 His usual ways and deem the common portal insuf- 
 ficient ? We cannot say fully, but we may see cer- 
 tain consequences which followed from it, and which 
 may partly explain His reasons. Thus in the case 
 of Elijah, his translation was the means of showing 
 evidently the continuance of his work in that of Elisha. 
 On the latter prophet Elijah's mantle fell. The two 
 men did one work. They can be understood only 
 when viewed together. Elijah destroyed, that Elisha 
 might construct; Elijah laid the foundation, that Elisha 
 might build upon it. Elijah's work was unfinished, 
 and hence the expectation that he would come again 
 before the Messiah. His translation at least exhibited 
 the unity between him and his successor. Not even 
 death divided them. The same is still more strongly 
 brought out by the ascension of Christ, which also may 
 be called a translation ; for Christ ascended that we 
 might feel Him still to be living and working; feel that 
 the Church is still under His care ; that, as Luke says, 
 on earth He began His work and is now finishing it in 
 heaven. It is thus that we look also at the disappear- 
 ance of Enoch. Whether for the sake of others or for 
 his own, the impression made is that the patriarch's 
 pure and godly life was continued; it went right on; it 
 
ENOCH 23I 
 
 was not broken even by death. God wishes us to 
 perceive that one who lives in fellowship with Himself 
 is already ripe for the close fellowship of heaven. 
 There is no break in the journey. Such a life on 
 this and that side of the grave is the same. On that 
 side it needs only to be perfected and confirmed. But 
 it is the same life, — life with God. 
 
 Thus, then, the translation of Enoch reveals to us 
 what is true of many, who are not translated. God, by 
 this exceptional departure of this exceptional man, 
 has shown us distinctly what ought to be true of all. 
 Enoch stands forth as the proof that a truly Christian 
 life destroys death. The sting of death is sin, but for 
 the Christian, sin has been forgiven. The strength of 
 sin is the law, but for the Christian, the law has been 
 obeyed and satisfied. Death, therefore, is for him not 
 what it once was. It is not punishment. It is but the 
 departure to God. Of multitudes may we say as truly 
 as of Enoch, "They were not, for God took them," — 
 since, death being thus transformed, it matters not 
 whether it come or not. We shall not all die, but, like 
 Enoch and Elijah, we shall all be changed. That is 
 the meaning of death to the Christian. God takes His 
 servant to Himself, — away from temptation, and perse- 
 cution, and trial, — to perfect rest, perfect bliss, perfect 
 purity. It was not the absence of death in Enoch's 
 case which is the principal point, so much as the con- 
 quest of death by faith in God. 
 
232 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Have you never seen nor heard of dying men of 
 whom all that is here said of the patriarch could 
 be truly said ? Paul died at the block ; but he 
 had already said that it was better " to depart and be 
 with Christ." " I am now ready to be offered, and 
 the time of my departure is at hand." " One of the 
 Scottish martyrs, standing on a ladder from which 
 they were to throw him off, assured the weeping spec- 
 tators that he had never gone up to his pulpit with 
 so little fear as he had mounted that ladder to die. To 
 him it was a perch from which his spirit, wearied of 
 a world full of sin and sorrows, was spreading out its 
 joyful wings for the flight to heaven." Nay, speak 
 not of apostles and martyrs. The same triumph has 
 been enjoyed by thousands of ransomed souls. Men, 
 women, and children have passed through the valley 
 without a murmur, or, if the passage were hard and 
 painful, still with the light of heaven gleaming in their 
 dying eyes, and the soul translated while the body fell 
 to dust. How is this ? Because in this life they had 
 found God ; because here they had learned somewhat 
 of how to walk with Him, tremblingly, lamely, perhaps, 
 but still humbly, and relying not on their own merits, 
 but on His grace. 
 
 They have been translated, I say. They have not 
 seen death, as death really is. They are not, for 
 God has taken them. That is all. We, standing 
 on the hither verge of the grave, have sought to 
 
ENOCH 233 
 
 heal their pains, to cheer their spirits, to revive their 
 strength, and it may be that when we can no longer 
 find them we are bowed with grief, the bitter tears flow 
 fast ; we wonder where they are, we think, and guess, 
 and ponder, while the heart grows heavier with its 
 load. But to them, — ah, to them, — what is death ? 
 The struggling life has found full expression now. 
 Faith has become sight. The love that once was often 
 interrupted, flows forth impassioned now. They are 
 with God. Still, they walk with God. Their Christian 
 life has reached its goal, and the pain of the exit from 
 earth has already been forgotten in the joy of the 
 entrance into heaven. They are not — for God has 
 taken them ! What more can we say ? What more 
 can we want? Be our deaths how and when they 
 may, is it not enough to know that with faith in 
 Christ our Saviour, there is no sting, there is no 
 darkness, there is only in store for us God's " Wel- 
 come home " ? 
 
XIII 
 
 THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 
 
 " For we must needs die, and are as water spilt on the ground, which 
 cannot be gathered up again; neither doth God respect any person \or 
 and God doth not cast away a soul] : yet [but] doth He devise means, 
 that His banished be not expelled from Him." — 2 Samuel xiv. 14. 
 
 These words were spoken by a woman arrayed in 
 deep mourning, and they were directed to King David. 
 The speaker is called a wise woman. She is known 
 now as the wise woman of Tekoah. Whether that 
 means that she professed to be a magician, or simply 
 that she had clever wit, is hard to say. It is not 
 unlikely that she traded on her reputation for wisdom ; 
 was a sort of fortune-teller, perhaps ; and hence had 
 acquired influence in the neighborhood. It may be, 
 however, that she was simply a cunning and shrewd 
 person, and so naturally fitted for the task through 
 which we have made her acquaintance. She was 
 before the king at Joab's bidding ; and though on her 
 were the signs of mourning, the real grief was in 
 David's own heart. 
 
 David's favorite son, Absalom, was a fugitive for the 
 murder of his brother ; and David mourned in his 
 palace both the absence of his heir and the wretched 
 circumstances which had stained the record of his 
 
 235 
 
236 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 family. Passion and murder had produced other 
 passion and other murder in the royal household ; 
 and the young man Absalom, the king's heir and 
 favorite, the idol of the court and of the people, had 
 fled to a foreign city, a fratricide. David, meanwhile, 
 was beset by conflicting feelings. His son was an 
 outlaw ; the avengers of blood ought to be on the 
 track of the murderer ; it might do great harm to 
 the established order for Absalom to be forgiven. 
 Yet, in spite of these considerations, the king mourned 
 for Absalom. He longed to have his favorite back 
 again. He was ready in his heart to excuse the young 
 man's sin, but felt it to be his duty sternly to condemn 
 that sin. So he was unhappy, as well he might be; 
 and it was known to all the court how the monarch 
 grieved over the banishment of his child. 
 
 At this juncture the brave but unscrupulous officer, 
 Joab, determined to persuade the king to gratify his 
 own inclinations. For this purpose he obtained the 
 service of the wise woman from Tekoah, and we are 
 shown in her interview with David the way in which 
 she overcame his scruples and induced him to allow 
 Absalom to return. She was well called a wise woman : 
 for she led the king, before he was aware, to commit 
 himself to the principle on which she wished him to 
 act, and then she delicately applied the principle to his 
 own case. She came as a suppliant, attired as a widow, 
 and told a pitiable tale of her own misery. She said 
 
THE WISE WOMAN OF TEK0A1I 237 
 
 she had had two sons, and that one of these, in a 
 moment of anger, had slain his brother ; and now the 
 avengers of blood were on the murderer's track, and 
 she would be deprived of her sole remaining child, and 
 her husband's name and family would be blotted out 
 of Israel forever. Let the king, she cried, make an ex- 
 ception in her case. Let the angry deed be forgotten, 
 now that the anger was past. Let not her life be made 
 more desolate by the punishment of her other, though 
 guilty, son. 
 
 The king must have been startled by this request to 
 do for another what he did not feel at liberty to do for 
 himself. Perhaps he was glad to be able to indulge 
 his mercy where no charge of favoritism could be 
 brought against him. The pathetic plea of this woman 
 made him feel also that there are times when mercy 
 has a better claim than justice; and in another's case 
 he could see this more clearly than in his own. We 
 can always judge others better than we can ourselves. 
 Let our circumstances be stated in the abstract, or in 
 connection with some other name, and we can often 
 more fairly estimate them than when we try to do 
 so knowing them to be our own. David's sense of 
 justice made him sternly put aside the thought of 
 forgiving Absalom ; but he readily granted to this sup- 
 posed widow the boon she craved. " As the Lord 
 liveth," he said, " there shall not one hair of thy son 
 fall to the earth," 
 
238 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Now " the wise woman " proceeded to insinuate her 
 main point into David's mind. We can see that she 
 advanced slowly, feeling her way as she went ; and with 
 the appearance, at least, of much hesitation, only 
 suggesting the matter to the king. She had two 
 arguments to bring forward. On the one hand, why 
 will not the king do as much for his own banished son 
 as for hers ? Was not Absalom the heir ? Was he 
 not the favorite of the people as well as of the king ? 
 Had he not been led to his crime by great provocation? 
 If mercy seemed right to David in the case of her poor 
 child, why should he be afraid to exercise it in the case 
 of his own noble and best-loved son ? Then, on the 
 other hand, the wise woman clinched her argument 
 by pointing David to the still better example of divine 
 mercy. This, said she, is what God does. He knows 
 that we all have in this life our only chance of recovery 
 and salvation. Behold, we are all hastening to the 
 grave, — we must needs die, — and then it is over with 
 us ; we shall be as water spilt on the ground, which 
 cannot be gathered up again. But does God let us 
 thus perish? Does He steel His heart against His 
 guilty children ? Does He care not whether we are 
 lost to Him or not ? By no means, O king. God has 
 devised means whereby His banished may not be ex- 
 pelled. He has pointed out a way of pardon ; mercy 
 and justice have been reconciled, and the law has not 
 been dishonored, though the law-breakers have been 
 
THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 239 
 
 received back. " God . . . deviseth means, that he 
 that is banished be not an outcast from Him." 
 
 It is nothing to us whether or not the wise 
 woman of Tekoah was right in persuading David to 
 restore Absalom. The incident remains no less an 
 example of the triumph of mercy over justice, and of 
 love over law ; and, in the words by which she set 
 forth the character of God and the fleeting chances of 
 life, she speaks wisely to us as well as to King David. 
 She comes as a shrewd observer; points us, in very 
 graphic language, to a very true view of ourselves and 
 of God ; and while we may not have any such per- 
 plexing problem to solve as David had, we may need 
 to have our common thoughts and habits brought 
 into fresh contrast with the ways of the Most High. 
 
 There are two thoughts expressed in the text. 
 The one is, that this life is man's only opportunity of 
 receiving forgiveness : the other, that God has seized 
 this opportunity and has devised means by which for- 
 giveness may be secured. 
 
 In what a vigorous, yet pathetic, way did this 
 wise woman of Tekoah set forth the " now or 
 never " doctrine of life ! " We must needs die, and are 
 as water spilt on the ground, which cannot be gath- 
 ered up again." Some think she meant to say that 
 Amnon, whom Absalom slew, is now dead, and so he 
 might as well be dismissed from thought. He had to 
 die, anyhow ; and since he cannot be restored, why 
 
240 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 should we cherish resentment against the still living 
 Absalom ? But such a grim, immoral fatalism would 
 scarcely have weighed much with King David. He 
 was not the man to admit that there need be no re- 
 pentance for the past, or that sin, once accomplished, 
 need not be punished. It is evident, on the contrary, 
 that the wise woman's words referred solely to Absa- 
 lom. She meant to say that life is the only chance 
 of forgiveness. Death was before them all ; and who 
 could say how soon it might come ? And when it 
 did come, then all hope of reconciliation between 
 father and child, all hope of Absalom's repentance, 
 all hope of amendment, would be gone forever. We 
 are as water spilt on the ground, which cannot be 
 gathered up. Life has been given man for his salva- 
 tion ; death seals his glory or his doom. 
 
 Perhaps it may appear to some that this language 
 goes even further, and implies a disbelief in any immor- 
 tality at all. Were we to take the words alone and 
 literally, this might be the case. The materialist would 
 ask no more satisfactory illustration of what death is 
 than this of water spilt upon the ground. Life, he 
 would say, is but the bringing into organic connection 
 of a certain number of particles of matter; and death 
 is the parting and scattering of them. Death, he 
 would say, literally ends all. The conscious life, like 
 spilt water, cannot be regained. But we have no right 
 to press thus the literal force of the wise woman's 
 
THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 24 1 
 
 figure, any more than to say that James did not be- 
 lieve in immortality when he likened life to a "vapor, 
 that appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth 
 away." Her language is to be understood only with 
 reference to the opportunities and moral possibilities 
 of life itself. 
 
 The thought which she uttered is one which especi- 
 ally abounds in the Old Testament, — that this life 
 alone belongs to man to win his way, and do his 
 work, and earn his reward. It is, for example, the 
 thought of Job when he exclaimed : " The eye of 
 him that hath seen me shall see me no more. . . . 
 As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away : so he 
 that goeth down to the grave shall come up no 
 more " ; or that of the Psalmist when he wrote : " Wilt 
 Thou show wonders to the dead? Shall the dead 
 arise and praise Thee ? Shall Thy wonders be known 
 in the dark ? and Thy righteousness in the land of 
 forgetfulness ? " ; or that which the writer of Ecclesi- 
 astes still more vigorously proclaimed : " Whatsoever 
 thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ; for 
 there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor 
 wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest." In short, 
 life is man's only opportunity. In it alone can we help 
 each other; in it alone can we be reconciled to each 
 other. In it alone, likewise, can we obtain the for- 
 giveness of God. Surely no words, if this view of them 
 be correct, could more forcibly express the idea than 
 
 16 
 
242 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 these words of the text : " We . . . are as water spilt 
 on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again." 
 
 Beyond doubt, the wise woman was right in 
 saying that this is our only opportunity to bless, to 
 win, to save our fellow-men. This was what she 
 wished especially to impress on David's mind. He 
 ought not to regard Absalom as already dead. Life 
 is given for purposes of love and benefaction, not to 
 be made, by stern anger, like to the grave. And in 
 this respect she is clearly a good adviser to us all. 
 What should impel us more to every kind of loving 
 deed, what should impel us more to every effort for 
 men's elevation and salvation, than the thought that 
 soon they will be beyond our reach? We. at least 
 shall have lost our opportunity to help them. Their 
 death will take them out of the range of our influence. 
 While they live we may help them, but our arms 
 cannot extend beyond the grave. 
 
 It is strange how often we forget this. One would 
 almost think that a vague belief in purgatory lies 
 latent in our minds, so often do we neglect men while 
 they are alive and wish them well after they are dead. 
 Commonly, this is due to either pride or carelessness. 
 In fact, just as to the Hebrews, so to us this earth 
 is intensely real and enjoyable. We want to make 
 the most of it for ourselves while it lasts. So we are 
 immersed in our own welfare and pursuits ; we pass 
 the needs of others by; we say too often, in effect, 
 
THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAII 243 
 
 " Wait till this fair scene has passed and we have had 
 our joy and profit out of life, and then hereafter, — if 
 there be one, — we will take up religion and benevo- 
 lence." But, surely, this is trusting to a mere hope. 
 It is well enough to have kind thoughts of the dead, 
 even though in life they have been our enemies ; but 
 what does it profit them ? The saddest of all thoughts 
 is that of lost opportunities. There was one to whom 
 I might have been more kind, whose heart I might 
 have brightened, but, alas ! now he is dead. There 
 was one whom I might have turned to a pure and 
 noble career ; another, whose forgiveness I longed 
 to ask; another, whom I ought to have forgiven; 
 another still, to whom I might have carried the word 
 of eternal life ; but, alas ! now they are all dead. I at 
 least cannot help them now. Oh, if men would but 
 think of this, how much gentler they would be in their 
 judgments! how much quicker to forgive! and with 
 how much more devotion would we not all strive to 
 do without delay our share in the work of the world's 
 salvation ! 
 
 Can we carry the thought of the text farther, and 
 say that as life offers the only opportunity men have 
 to receive our aid and forgiveness, so it affords the 
 only chance they have of receiving the forgiveness of 
 God ? If so, then the urgency of our duty is re- 
 doubled, and life is filled with responsibility otherwise 
 unknown. I feel sure that this is so. When we remem- 
 
244 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 ber the passages of Scripture already cited, in which 
 the hopelessness of the grave is set in such marked 
 contrast to the possibilities of life, we are prepared 
 to hear the clearer words of the New Testament, 
 " Now is the accepted time ; now is the day of 
 salvation." To this we add, " It is appointed unto 
 men once to die; but after this the judgment." To 
 that again we add the frequent descriptions of the 
 judgment as based upon the deeds done "in the 
 body." Even those who have not known Christ are 
 represented by Him as accepted or rejected according 
 as they have or have not acted well " unto one of 
 the least of these my brethren." There is nowhere 
 any hint that the judgment will go upon any other 
 basis than the present life of man. Christ sent His 
 disciples into the world, proclaiming forgiveness to 
 every one that believes, and condemnation to all that 
 refuse ; and it would seem to follow that here is the 
 place, and now is the time, in which mercy may be had. 
 You will refer me, perhaps, to those two much dis- 
 cussed texts in the First Epistle of Peter, which are 
 thought by many to prove the contrary doctrine. 
 The one reads, " For this cause was the Gospel 
 preached even to the dead, that they might be judged 
 according to men in the flesh, but live according 
 to God in the spirit." The other relates that Christ 
 in the Spirit preached to spirits in prison, that 
 is, as the Apostle immediately explains, to the men 
 
THE WISE WOMAN OE TEKOAH 245 
 
 of old who were destroyed in the deluge. It is 
 admitted, of course, that these passages are diffi- 
 cult to interpret. I can only express my honest 
 opinion, reached in spite of much prejudice in favor 
 of the other view. This is, that they do not teach the 
 theory now so often drawn from them. When Peter 
 said that " the Gospel was preached to the dead," he 
 meant, I think, the dead saints and martyrs to whom 
 the Gospel had come in their lifetime, but whom it 
 had not saved from the pains of persecution and suf- 
 fering. Some of his readers feared that these men 
 had lost their reward ; that they would not share in 
 the coming kingdom. This was a common fear in 
 those days. Paul exhorted the Thessalonians not to 
 sorrow over their dead as those without hope, for the 
 dead in Christ should at His coming rise first. So 
 Peter assured his readers that the dead, though they 
 had fallen under the fiery judgment of men, would 
 live according to God in the spirit. As for the other 
 passage, there is much to show that Peter meant 
 simply that Christ by His Spirit had preached through 
 Noah to the antediluvians ; just as he says in another 
 place that the Spirit of Christ testified in the prophets. 
 It remains certain, at least, that in the only two texts 
 which can be quoted in favor of a probation after 
 death, as much may be said against that interpretation 
 as for it. It remains certain, moreover, that a dozen 
 or score of other passages, about the meaning of which 
 
246 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 there can be little doubt, bear directly against that 
 theory. Finally, it is certain that these two texts, — 
 even if they taught that Christ preached to the dead, — 
 would teach that He did so between His death and 
 His resurrection ; and leave it still undetermined 
 whether such preaching has ever been or is ever to be 
 repeated. The Scriptural ground for expecting an 
 opportunity for repentance after death, therefore, rests 
 upon a doubtful inference from a doubtful interpreta- 
 tion of two difficult passages of the Bible. I submit 
 that this cannot begin to outweigh the earnest appeal 
 made throughout the Scriptures for repentance now 
 in order to forgiveness. 
 
 We have little zeal indeed for the mere matter of 
 fact. If it should turn out that any who have not re- 
 ceived forgiveness here receive it in the other world, 
 we should thank God a thousand times. But to trust 
 to such an unlikely possibility is to drop over a preci- 
 pice, upheld only by a single doubtful cord. It is to 
 throw away certainty for the least possibility. Un- 
 doubtedly the great volume of Scripture teaching flows 
 the other way. Our text is its fair representative. 
 Death ends the day of forgiveness. We arc as water 
 spilt on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again. 
 Life is man's great and only chance. We can but 
 repeat, over and over again, in the ear of careless 
 men : Now is the accepted time. Ah, heed this 
 wise woman of Tekoah. Stop hoping in vague and 
 
THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAII 2\J 
 
 unprofitable theories, and seize the certain duty which 
 the present moment brings. Make life your op- 
 portunity. Do all your duty to your fellow-men 
 now, ere death takes them from your reach ! Take 
 God's forgiveness now, while the golden chance is 
 yours ! 
 
 This leads us to the other truth expressed in the 
 text. This is, that God has seized this opportunity of 
 man's earthly life, and has devised means whereby man 
 may be forgiven. The second half of the text should 
 be translated : " God does not cast away a soul, but 
 thinks thoughts in order that His outcast one may not 
 be expelled from Him." The speaker clinched her 
 appeal to David by reminding him of the mercy of 
 God ; and there was such a likeness between David's 
 relation to Absalom and God's relation to David him- 
 self, that her appeal must have had much force. For 
 God has His rebellious and disobedient sons. David 
 himself had sorely needed the divine mercy. God's 
 favorite child, so to speak, — the man after his heart, — 
 had been guilty of the same crime as Absalom ; and 
 the king, grieving in loneliness over the sin of his 
 favorite child, must have realized, as he never did 
 before, how God felt toward him who was no less a 
 sinner. 
 
 The likeness went further still. As the king felt 
 that, however much he might wish to do so, he 
 could not, for the sake of his kingdom and his own 
 
248 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 authority, pardon the royal criminal; so likewise did he 
 know that the law of God, just as sternly and more 
 unchangeably, banished every sinner from the divine 
 presence. Thus we are brought to face again the great 
 problem of all time, — how shall the Father's love grant 
 forgiveness to the son consistently with the Father's 
 own authority ? How shall the divine law, the law of 
 the universal kingdom, be upheld while grace finds its 
 way to the guilty ? You see the same problem pre- 
 sented itself to David which is ever presenting itself 
 to God, just as in David were united the two rela- 
 tions of father and king, which are united in God also, 
 who is both our Father and our King. But what 
 has God done in the circumstances ? Has He thrown 
 His government to the winds in order that His love 
 may have its will ? Or has He stifled His affection in 
 order that His government maybe respected? No, 
 He has done neither. The wise woman put the truth 
 in just the right way. He has "devised means" 
 whereby both ends may be secured, and His banished 
 not be expelled from Him forever. 
 
 There are some persons to whom the idea of a 
 plan or scheme of salvation is repugnant. They think 
 it a crude, human way of stating the truth. It seems 
 to them impossible that God should seem to be com- 
 pelled to resort to any device in order to save men. 
 Why cannot He both grant pardon and uphold His 
 authority without any such scheme? Is He, they ask, 
 
THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAJI 249 
 
 a man, that He should be forced apparently to circum- 
 vent his own law in order to do His will ? 
 
 In reply it may be said that we cannot safely criti- 
 cise facts, and that it is far more reasonable to sup- 
 pose that the fact has a sufficient reason than to deny 
 the fact because we cannot understand that reason. 
 The wise woman of Tekoah used this language be- 
 cause she and the king had all around them examples 
 of such devices. What else was that altar which 
 smoked before the tabernacle on Mount Zion ; what 
 else meant the law respecting leprosy and the cleans- 
 ing which they had received from Moses ; what else 
 were those cities of refuge, where the blood-avengers 
 could not enter, than devices illustrative of the govern- 
 ment of God ? These old Hebrews knew enough from 
 their own religious system, which was itself an im- 
 mense scheme, to make them realize that though 
 they, like the rest of the world, were under the ban of 
 God by nature, He had devised means by which they 
 and others also might return to Him. 
 
 In like manner must we look upon the facts and the 
 teachings of the New Testament. The mission and 
 the death of Jesus are there called a mystery which 
 was hid in God from the beginning. We are told that 
 " in the fullness of time God sent forth His Son, . . . 
 to redeem them that were under the law." What was 
 that if not a scheme, long delayed, but at the right 
 moment put into execution ? We are told that " He 
 
250 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 hath made Him to be sin for us who knew no sin; 
 that we might be made the righteousness of God in 
 Him." What was that but a plan, involving the sub- 
 stitution of one for another? Finally, we read that 
 God sent forth Christ in order "that He might be just, 
 and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus." 
 Here is certainly a device not to circumvent law, but 
 to honor it, while at the same time forgiveness is pro- 
 vided for men. 
 
 Indeed, on any view of Jesus which at all admits 
 Him to have been a divine messenger, we must sup- 
 pose a plan or scheme in the mind of Him who 
 sent Him ; a plan, for example, that the world 
 should wait so many years before Christ came ; a 
 plan that His coming should be prepared for among 
 the Jews ; a plan that by His death He should at 
 least teach men the way of holiness. We go only 
 a step further and say it was also a plan by which 
 justice could be satisfied and atonement made. It is 
 just like what God is ever doing in man's history. 
 He does not bring about His ends at once, but slowly 
 and painfully: by devices; by the use of means; by 
 the slow unfolding and victory of His eternal purpose. 
 God has a plan, or else the world would not be gov- 
 erned. He has a law, or else the world's order would 
 not be upheld. So in the gift of Christ, of course, 
 He had a plan, and has devised means whereby this 
 race, banished by its sin, may be forgiven. 
 
THE WISE WOMAN OF TEKOAH 25 1 
 
 And what a device it is ! We learn it at the 
 cross. That sufferer was the Son of God. He laid 
 His life down as a ransom; and from His death 
 there come to us two words, — righteousness and 
 love. The righteousness of God, — upheld, satisfied, 
 — provided now for us all ; the love of God, utter- 
 ing from above that bleeding form, Come, for all 
 things are now ready. Go out, then, to the Absaloms, 
 — the guilty fugitives from heaven, — and tell them the 
 good news that they need not be exiles any more ! 
 To that Absalom, who has stained his soul with vice 
 and crime, carry the offer of forgiveness. He is 
 feeding swine, it may be ; but tell him he may come 
 home. He is worse than a publican, perhaps ; but let 
 Him confess, and he may be justified. Carry the 
 message to the sinful everywhere, — to the degraded 
 and the desperate, as well as to the polished crimi- 
 nal, or the man whose heart is hard with avarice. 
 Go whisper it in the ears of the timid and the doubt- 
 ing ; let it ring in the market-place ; proclaim it from 
 the house-top ; tell it to your friends, and take it for 
 your own hope. Absalom is not lost. Absalom need 
 not be an exile. Absalom can come home now, 
 while his life is strong, ere the water is spilt upon the 
 ground ; for God has devised means whereby he may 
 justly be forgiven ! 
 
 Are there no Absaloms here ? Are there none who 
 feel themselves sinners, — banished from their Father 
 
252 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 and King? Are there none who want to return home 
 and seek their Father's face ? I bring you His mes- 
 sage, — Come. He has not given His Son to die with- 
 out meaning what He says. He is in earnest, and you 
 may take your place among His children. You may 
 make life what it ought to be, — the road to heaven. 
 Repent, and you shall be forgiven. Ask, and you shall 
 receive. Knock, and it shall be opened unto you. 
 No one need be lost ; for now, while the opportunity 
 is here, God has devised the means of your salvation. 
 " Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as 
 white as snow." 
 
XIV 
 
 JOHN THE BAPTIST 
 
 " I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, Make straight 
 the way of the Lord, as said the prophet Esaias." — John i. 23. 
 " He must increase, but I must decrease." — John iii. 30. 
 
 Both these expressions fell from the lips of John 
 the Baptist : the first, when " the Jews sent priests and 
 Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, Who art thou ? " ; 
 the second, when certain of the Jews, led perhaps by 
 his own disciples who were jealous of his honor, re- 
 ported to him the growing popularity of Jesus and 
 the prospect that he might be outshone by the 
 new light whose rising he himself had announced. 
 His words on both occasions give evidence of one of 
 the most beautiful traits of character which any man 
 can have. They show the entire absence in John of 
 what in a popular way we may call self-conscious- 
 ness ; he lost himself in his work and in his Master. 
 They show, as, indeed, his whole history does, that 
 he thought not of his own reputation or fate, cared 
 nothing for applause and was indifferent to danger ; 
 that he forgot himself, or else, with consummate grace, 
 put himself entirely in the background in even his 
 
 own thoughts, in order that nothing but the divine 
 
 253 
 
254 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 message and the divine Messenger might be con- 
 sidered. 
 
 It is rather remarkable that this grace should 
 appear so conspicuously in John the Baptist. He 
 was a somewhat fierce reformer. His appearance was 
 peculiar, and his personality attracted universal atten- 
 tion. He stood also single handed in the battle 
 with traditional sin and established error. His posi- 
 tion required great energy and courage, undoubting 
 faith in his own call from God, iron-like power of 
 endurance. Such a position is apt to make some 
 men egotistical even when sincere. They readily 
 become self-asserting. The very solitude of their po- 
 sition tends to make them self-conscious. But John 
 was so great a man as to be above this tempta- 
 tion. He realized clearly that he was but an instru- 
 ment in God's hand to do a special and temporary 
 work. Into that work he threw himself with the zeal 
 of a devotee. Therefore, he lost all thought of him- 
 self in thought of his work and office. Who he might 
 be was a matter of absolutely no consequence to friend 
 or foe. He was the voice of God. That was enough. 
 That was all. And when his mission began to close, 
 with sincere, indeed almost unconscious humility, he 
 gloried in his lessening fame. Had he not spoken in 
 order to introduce the Messiah ? Should he then 
 regret that the Messiah caused him to be forgotten ? 
 He was but the Bridegroom's friend, who stands and 
 
JOHN THE BATTIST 255 
 
 hears Him, and rejoices greatly because of the Bride- 
 groom's voice. Intense as was his nature, strong as 
 was his courage, impressive as was his personality, 
 John the Baptist appears most admirable and was 
 most successful because of the complete self-forget- 
 fulness with which he did his glorious task. 
 
 Such an example is fitted to teach us an important 
 lesson. We are naturally prone to an exaggerated 
 self-consciousness, even when we have the least 
 reason for it; and sometimes our very efforts to do 
 what we consider right unhappily increase this natural 
 tendency. We are apt to spend our moral energy, 
 for instance, in trying to force good feelings and 
 strong religious emotions, instead of allowing these 
 to regulate themselves ; and, in consequence, we be- 
 come painfully and morbidly absorbed in self-inspec- 
 tion. Or we seek to solve the mystery of life and 
 to overcome incessantly suggested doubt until exist- 
 ence becomes little more than an intellectual riddle, 
 with the difficulty of which we are oppressed, and by 
 the incubus of which our practical usefulness is palsied. 
 Or, again, we may waste time in analyzing our Christian 
 experience in order to learn surely whether we are be- 
 lievers, and whether we are growing in grace ; and by 
 so doing are either cast into despair or exalted by 
 pride. Of course, self-examination is not to be 
 neglected, but it may be abused. A thoroughly 
 healthy life is largely unconscious of its processes. It 
 
256 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 is the sick man who realizes that he has a body. The 
 perfectly well man gives it little thought. So in the 
 moral and religious sphere, the best work is done in 
 self-forgetfulness. The best progress in grace is made 
 by those who are so absorbed in doing the duties com- 
 manded them that they think little about the effect 
 upon themselves. The finest life is that which forgets 
 its own needs in the joys of service; and while no man 
 should fail at times to search his own heart, every 
 man will be and do better by being absorbed in what 
 is greater than himself than by being busied with the 
 diagnosis of the state of his own soul. 
 
 Now I wish, at this time, to take the example of 
 John the Baptist, as given us by these two expressions 
 from his lips, and to show you how by beginning 
 aright he grew unconsciously into the finest type of 
 Christian manhood. He will suggest, I think, the 
 line along which we all ought to advance. 
 
 Observe first that John began by forgetting him- 
 self in the work he had been sent to do and the cause 
 whose champion he was. This was the spirit in which 
 he began his ministry. For thirty years he had waited 
 for the hour to come in which he was to lift his voice 
 as a trumpet in Israel. He had lived as a Nazarite 
 from his birth. He had dwelt in the desert. What 
 thoughts had filled his mind we do not know. But we 
 may suppose that thoughts of the speedy coming of 
 the Messiah, the worldliness of the church, the degra- 
 
JOHN THE BAPTIST 257 
 
 dation of the nation, burned within his soul. He went 
 forth at last in the spirit and power of Elias, inspired 
 for this very work, breaking on the guilty nation as 
 the Tishbite of old on Ahab's court, the voice of one 
 crying in the wilderness, " Prepare ye the way of 
 the Lord." Out of what considerations did this ab- 
 sorption of self in his work which characterized John 
 spring? 
 
 It came first from his knowledge that he was im- 
 mediately called of God to the work. Had he taken it 
 up of his own accord, his self-forgetfulness could not 
 have been so complete. He would have felt it neces- 
 sary to justify his course. But working as he did in 
 obedience to a divine call, he felt that he was simply 
 an instrument in the Lord's hand. What was he, to 
 rebuke the learning of the scribes, and the righteous- 
 ness of the Pharisees ? Who was he, to antagonize 
 the existing order and to assume the authority of a 
 prophet? What good could he expect single handed 
 to accomplish ? But believing that he spoke a 
 word which God had put into his mouth, he could 
 utter it though none heard or though all heard. It 
 would win its way because it was God's word. He 
 would do his work because God was using him. It 
 was, I apprehend, this knowledge that he was called 
 by God to speak and act as he did, which, first of all, 
 made John lose thought of self in the herculean 
 
 task to which he was assigned. 
 17 
 
258 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Moreover, he realized that the work was infinitely 
 more important than he was. He was but one of a 
 multitude, and God might have chosen any other man 
 to do the work. It was of little consequence what his 
 fate might be or what his opinions were. But the work 
 for which he was sent was momentous, both to Israel 
 and to all mankind. The hour of the world's great 
 crisis had come. The axe was to be laid at the root of 
 the trees. He for Whom Israel had sighed and prayed 
 through many centuries was about to appear, and Israel 
 was not ready to receive Him. The Lamb of God, 
 who was to take away the sin of the world, was on 
 His way to the place of sacrifice. As the man who 
 struck the bell of American liberty is forgotten and 
 was nothing, but the sound went forth into all the 
 land, so he who struck the hour of redemption was 
 nothing, but the announcement itself was all. Such a 
 work was of incalculable importance to Israel and to 
 humanity. Men must be made to hear. They must 
 be brought to their knees in repentance. Who he 
 was that roused them mattered nothing. What they 
 might do to him was of no consequence. But the 
 work of awakening must be done, be the cost what 
 it might. 
 
 Still, again, John realized that the time was short. 
 Already the Messiah had been born. The time was ripe 
 for His manifestation. The failure of Israel was sealed. 
 The cry of the faithful few was despairing. Outside, 
 
JOHN THE BAPTIST 259 
 
 the world was ready. The tyrant was in power, pre- 
 pared to slay. The world was learning from Israel as 
 it had never learned before, and was come to share 
 widely in Israel's hope. There was no time to be 
 lost, no time to argue, no time to polish discourses, 
 no time to think of danger, no time to think of self. 
 For, to crown all, John knew his own mission to be 
 but a brief one. He was only to prepare for the Mes- 
 siah. He was simply to open the gate for the King of 
 Israel to enter. He was nothing but a herald. His 
 work, therefore, could not last long. It would soon be 
 over and be merged into the greater work of the 
 Greater Master. 
 
 It was out of such considerations as these no doubt 
 that John's self-forgetfulness sprang. The crisis was 
 imminent, and he became unconscious even of the 
 exertion he made in meeting it. In the realization 
 of such a situation, the mind is lifted up above 
 its common tenor. When rescuing a fellow-man 
 from danger, we forget our own. When the fight 
 closes thick around him, the soldier is unmindful 
 of the awful peril in which he stands. Luther 
 was more self-conscious than John the Baptist was, 
 because, heroic though he was and manifestly raised 
 up by Providence for his special work, he was yet not 
 the simple instrument in God's hand which the son of 
 Zacharias was. Yet Luther rose to something of 
 the same self-forgetfulness when he declared that he 
 
26o FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 would go to the Diet of Worms though there were 
 as many devils aiming at him as there were tiles 
 on the roofs. John was less boastful and no less 
 brave. He had no Elector behind him and no friends 
 with him. He absolutely obliterated himself in the 
 work which he was sent to do. He sought no glory 
 and no comforts. He heeded neither the frown of the 
 priests nor the wrath of the king. He simply and 
 without hesitation did his given duty, and spoke the 
 word which God had put into his mouth — anxious 
 that men should listen to it rather than look at him — 
 glad to be known as nothing but a voice — a voice 
 from God, crying in the wilderness : " Behold, the 
 King cometh ; prepare ye the way of the Lord." 
 
 Now, in a way, the same motives which operated in 
 John's mind can govern us, even though we are not 
 specially raised up by God as he was. Every man has 
 a divine mission in the world. It may be very hum- 
 ble, but it is a real mission. It may be quite out of 
 the line of what we commonly call religious work, and 
 yet be in the deepest sense a divine mission. Life is 
 given us, at any rate, that we may serve God in it ; and 
 whatsoever our circumstances or our condition, we may 
 serve Him if we have the will. He who has a willing 
 heart and an open eye will discover the possibilities 
 of service when others see them not. He will rec- 
 ognize in the needs of his fellow men a divine call. 
 He will feel that he is part of a great organism in 
 
JOHN THE BAPTIST 26 1 
 
 which the Almighty is working out His will and 
 plan, and that whatsoever makes truth clearer, or 
 society purer, or human suffering less, or ignorance 
 rarer, or holiness more dominant, is an agent for the 
 fulfilment of that divine will. He will put at the 
 forefront of all agencies the Gospel of Jesus Christ, 
 and will think life used for the noblest end when con- 
 tributing to the spread in the world and in society of 
 that blessed truth. 
 
 Thus every one may catch the enthusiasm of appli- 
 cation. Eveiy one may feel in a measure the pressure 
 of the same motives by which we have supposed that 
 John was governed. Each man may feel himself called 
 of God to be of use. Each ought to feel that the 
 work is of infinitely more importance than he is ; that 
 the time is short in which to do it ; and that at the 
 best it will not be a long work, since our stay in the 
 vineyard is but for a little while. So, grasping the 
 situation, a true man ought, like John, to forget him- 
 self in these divine activities. We have no right to 
 consider our own pleasure or even mainly our own 
 spiritual profit. It matters little what becomes of us : 
 but humanity must be comforted and redeemed, truth 
 and God must be glorified. We are not to spend 
 our whole time in purifying our hearts, or in mourn- 
 ing over our sorrows, or in cultivating our intellects. 
 We are to go out of ourselves and give our time to 
 purifying others' lives, to comforting others in their 
 
262 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 sorrow, and to driving away ignorance from others' 
 minds. Our vision should be directed outward, not 
 inward. We should not deem ourselves to be of the 
 chief worth.. That which should enlist us is the 
 active service to which Providence obviously calls 
 us. The consequence will be that through this self- 
 forgetfulness our lives will become most useful and 
 happy. Our sorrows will be best assuaged by 
 sympathy with those of other men. Our knowledge 
 will grow wider as we seek to give it to the ignorant, 
 whereas he who lives for himself in any sense will 
 become the poorer and more wretched for his pains. 
 Surely, this is a needed lesson. Forget thyself in 
 service for thy Master, if thou wouldst tread the 
 noblest path in life. 
 
 But, important as it is, this is not enough, by any 
 means, for the full ripening and perfecting of Christian 
 character. There may be absorption in benevolent and 
 useful work without any sense of personal relationship 
 to Christ. If so, the necessary condition of real 
 Christian growth is wanting. It is interesting, there- 
 fore, to notice the path by which, apparently, John the 
 Baptist reached ripeness of character. The second 
 passage, which I have chosen as part of the text, indi- 
 cates what that path was. 
 
 The inevitable time came when his mission drew to 
 a close. The Messiah, for whose advent he had been 
 sent to prepare, came upon the scene and gradually 
 
JOHN THE BAPTIST 263 
 
 occupied a larger space than His herald in the 
 thoughts of the people. The crowd which had at- 
 tended on the ministry of the Baptist began to thin, 
 while a greater multitude listened to the teaching of 
 Jesus. Manifestly, John's day was nearly over. He 
 would soon have to stand aside altogether, and in the 
 gloom of a prison watch the better ministry of the 
 Nazarene. 
 
 It was a proof of the sincerity of John's devo- 
 tion to his God-given work that he so gracefully 
 recognized the rightfulness of his own diminishing 
 popularity. "He must increase; but I must decrease." 
 John served so well that he was ready to pass into 
 obscurity when his work was done. Not every man 
 possesses such humility; and we cannot but consider it 
 to have been the crowning beauty of this prophet's 
 character that he not only forgot himself in his work, 
 but also in its issue. He was ready both to subordinate 
 himself to service and to serve so faithfully as to be 
 willing to have his service itself forgotten in the suc- 
 cess of Him whom he had come to serve. 
 
 But in this John did more than exhibit humility and 
 loyalty. He exhibits the precise path along which 
 Christian progress lies. I think we may fairly see a 
 real growth in John's spiritual life. Beginning by 
 consecration to the divine will, he finds that will to be 
 submission to Jesus. Gradually Christ supplants in his 
 mind even his God-given work. The person of Jesus 
 
264 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 becomes the main object of his attention, — the sun in 
 the heavens before which all the stars hide themselves. 
 John learns now to subordinate himself to Christ as he 
 had formerly subordinated himself to his work. He 
 finds that he must trust Christ absolutely, for even he, 
 prophet though he was, did not understand what Jesus 
 was going to do. He finds that he must love Christ 
 supremely, for in Him the final revelation of God was 
 made. He must cease his own activity, because Christ 
 must and can do all. He must lay aside his mission, 
 for that of the Master has begun. He must hold in 
 check his own hopes and fears, for Christ alone knows 
 how redemption to Israel is to be brought about. All 
 this growth in spiritual character is the appointed way 
 for the prophet of the law to ripen into the Christian 
 disciple ; so that his words become significant not only 
 of his humility and loyalty, but of the positively larger 
 and more spiritual view of duty which he had attained, 
 when he said, " He must increase, but I must de- 
 crease." 
 
 For Christian character ripens in just this way, — 
 its progress toward perfection lies just along this line. 
 It begins with faith in Jesus Christ as the Saviour and 
 Master of our souls. But that is only the beginning. 
 It grows in proportion as Christ becomes in us and to 
 us more and more ; and we, in conscious distinction 
 from Him, become less and less. It ripens by the 
 fusion of our motives with His purposes, our affections 
 
JOHN THE BAPTIST 265 
 
 with His spirit, until we are able in some measure to 
 say with the apostle, It is not we that live but Christ 
 that liveth in us. For we must have faith not only in 
 Christianity as a system and life, but in Christ as a per- 
 sonal Redeemer. 
 
 Thus Christian growth consists in broadening the 
 scope of our dependence on Christ, forgetting our own 
 merits. As I have said, we in principle depend on 
 Him when we first become disciples. But the experi- 
 mental realization of what is involved in that principle 
 unfolds as we go on. The disciple learns that in order 
 to obtain salvation he is to trust absolutely in Jesus ; 
 that no works which he can do can merit life : so that 
 after a long period of service he feels the nothingness 
 of his own labor even more than he did at the begin- 
 ning. He learns also that he must trust absolutely to 
 Christ's wisdom in the orderings of Providence. He 
 must depend upon Christ for guidance ; for sanctifi- 
 cation no less than for justification; for happiness no 
 less than for pardon ; for assurance as well as for 
 cleansing. Thus trust grows in him, grows not only 
 in power but in extent. Self-confidence diminishes 
 because confidence in Christ increases. Pride dies at 
 the feet of ripened faith. He decreases in the sense 
 that self-dependence passes utterly and wholly away 
 until not a remnant of it is left : whereas Christ increases 
 in the sense that His all-sufficiency grows like the dawn 
 upon the soul. At last the disciple is able to fathom 
 
266 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 the meaning of the declaration that Christ has been 
 made unto us of God wisdom, and righteousness, and 
 sanctification, and redemption. 
 
 Then, too, Christian growth consists in the practical 
 merging of the human will in the will of Christ, for- 
 getting our own plans. It is here that our individuality 
 most plainly appears. It is the human will which is 
 the chief rebel against God. The refusal of the will 
 to bow before Him is the root of sin. This is the self, 
 the personality, which must be brought into living and 
 practical unison with God or else be God's everlast- 
 ing enemy. So the disciple learns to make his will 
 more and more the expression of the mind of Christ. 
 This is not to be done by force work. It is the effect 
 of a new life. He learns to appreciate the divine beauty 
 of Christ's character ; the evident wisdom which dwelt 
 in Jesus, and which now, as he believes, rules the 
 world. His heart is won by the love of Jesus, so that 
 under the Spirit's operation his affections become set 
 on things above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand 
 of God. Therefore his will ceases to be in oppo- 
 sition. It is no longer independent and self-reliant. 
 It seeks to express not man's poor purposes and weak 
 thoughts, but those of the Son of God. 
 
 Whatever, therefore, Christ commands, the disciple 
 becomes willing to do; whatever Christ ordains, he 
 becomes willing to bear; wherever Christ sends, 
 he becomes willing to £o. He can now raise with 
 
JOHN THE BAPTIST 267 
 
 more sincerity the prayer, ''Thy will be done." 
 He has decreased ; Christ has increased. Christ, 
 to use the apostle's phrase, becomes formed within 
 him. A child will sometimes reproduce almost ex- 
 actly the mind of his parent. He has inherited the 
 latter's mental characteristics, to begin with ; and 
 then training and love and association have done the 
 rest. When he becomes older, the child can often 
 see his parent in himself, and be sensible that the latter 
 has been formed within him. So, but more faithfully, 
 ought the disciple to reproduce Christ. This will not 
 destroy his own individuality, but perfect it. This will 
 not weaken his energy, but direct it to the best issues. 
 Nevertheless he will decrease, and Christ will increase 
 in him. He will forget his own separate and selfish 
 existence through joyous union with Him who is his 
 hope of glory. 
 
 Thus Christian growth consists in Christ's becoming 
 all in all to the disciple's consciousness. In Christ the 
 disciple discovers a new revelation of God and of truth 
 which is as vastly greater than his first view of the 
 Saviour as the heavens, when seen through a telescope, 
 are greater than when seen with the naked eye. In 
 Christ he discovers also a sympathy and a patience, 
 which appear more lovely and helpful than he ever 
 dreamed such things could be. In Christ he finds 
 himself complete, — and as his own thought deepens, 
 as his own activities expand, as his own needs become 
 
268 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 more manifest, he finds that thought attains its best 
 results when in obedience to Christ, that activities do 
 most good when guided by Christ, and that the deepest 
 needs are amply met in Christ. He has received the 
 Spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge 
 of Christ : the eyes of his understanding being en- 
 lightened, so that he knows what is the hope of his 
 calling and what the riches of the glory of his inherit- 
 ance in the saints ; until before the enthralled contem- 
 plation of the greatness of Christ he feels that his 
 highest joy and blessedness consist in being the ser- 
 vant of such a Master and the lowly attendant of such 
 a Lord. 
 
 Thus self reaches perfection best through self-abne- 
 gation. The believer learns to look wholly away from 
 self to Christ. Through submission to the Master 
 his own life grows in richness and power and peace. 
 What as a self-dependent, independent person he 
 had failed to obtain, he does obtain through depend- 
 ence and trust. When most sensible of his weakness, 
 he finds in Christ's strength that which secures to him 
 the results that he desired, but could not win. Christ 
 must increase, and the disciple must decrease, in order 
 that the disciple himself may attain his own ideal. 
 Self-forgetfulness is thus necessary to the disciple's 
 growth. In proportion as he subordinates his own 
 life to the Saviour's, will his life unfold its divine fruit- 
 age. The way of self-development in the spiritual 
 
JOHN THE BAPTIST 269 
 
 life is by self-abnegation. The starry crown is won 
 by self-forgetfulness due to absorbed attention to 
 Christ. He who loses his life is the one who gains 
 it. The less we depend on self, the less we con- 
 sult self, the less we think of self, and the more we 
 depend on, and consult, and think of Jesus Christ, 
 the faster will we grow into all that the sons of 
 God should be. He must increase, and we must de- 
 crease. 
 
 John the Baptist exhibited growth in grace through 
 self-forgetfulness in service and in faith ; his self-for- 
 getfulness in service ripening into self-forgetfulness 
 through faith in Christ ; the latter also, in substance, 
 being the principal mainspring of the former. I 
 commend this truth to you, Christian people, as the 
 secret of power and peace in your Christian living. 
 Ourselves are our worst enemies. We give them 
 commonly too much attention. We think too much 
 of their comfort and pleasure, and, beyond this, we 
 waste too much time in foolish efforts to make our- 
 selves better and happier. Let us forget ourselves. 
 Let us look without us. Let us see the work of God 
 which needs to be done, and busy ourselves with doing 
 it, wheresoever it may lie, at home or abroad. Let us 
 grasp the fullness of Christ and trust Him to make us 
 better and to make us happy in His own good time 
 and way. We shall have hardly escaped from the 
 thraldom of self before we shall have found in the 
 
270 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 larger life of service and of faith the beginning of the 
 reward. 
 
 I commend this truth with no less earnestness 
 to the people of the world. You are the slaves 
 of selfishness. I do not mean that you may not be 
 in a degree generous and kindly. But the dominant 
 principle of your life, — what is it? Is it not self-in- 
 terest ? This slavery to money, and to fashion, and to 
 pleasure — are they not various forms of self-worship? 
 Trying thus to save your lives, you lose them. You 
 lose all greatness from them ; you lose the satisfac- 
 tion which might pervade them ; you lose the glory 
 which ought to adorn them. And if perhaps your 
 consciences have been quickened, you propose to win 
 salvation by your works, little thinking how insuf- 
 ficient they are for such a purpose. Do you not see, to- 
 day, your serious mistake ? You must accept a better 
 master than your own poor thoughts. You must 
 confess your impotence and rely upon the Saviour. 
 You must uncrown self and enthrone the Son of God. 
 It is your only hope ; for if you are self-good and self- 
 serving, you will be self-destroyed. He who forgets 
 himself in life's great work and then in life's Great 
 Saviour, has himself found life for evermore. 
 
XV 
 
 SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 
 " Andrew, Simon Peter's brother." — John i. 40. 
 
 There are many very useful people in the world 
 who are not appreciated, because they are overshad- 
 owed by some one especially conspicuous. They 
 are dwarfed by comparison with a giant. They are 
 forgotten because the attention of men is fixed on 
 the greater one near them. They are like tall trees 
 and huge rocks on a mountain's side: tall and huge 
 though they be, they look small by contrast with 
 the great peak itself. Such people may be really 
 useful, worthy of study and imitation ; their lives 
 may be terrible tragedies ; the pathos of their exist- 
 ences may be unutterable ; or the value of their work 
 may be actually more than that of another who towers 
 over them : but by reason of the latter's nearness they 
 are passed by without notice. We are often quite arbi- 
 trary in the selection of our models and heroes. We 
 confine our admiration to a few whom, indeed, it is 
 scarcely possible to imitate, while scores of others 
 present excellences which are not less worthy of 
 praise, and which may be more nearly within our 
 reach. They are cast into the shade, however, by 
 
 271 
 
272 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 the more conspicuous object near which it is their 
 fortune to be. 
 
 We may apply these remarks to the apostle Andrew ; 
 and our text suggests the reason for his moderate 
 renown. He was Simon Peter's brother. He was 
 more distinguished, therefore, by his connection with 
 Simon than by what he was or did. No figure 
 stands out more prominently in the annals of the 
 early Church than that of Peter. How often his 
 name is mentioned in the Gospels! How much we 
 hear of him in the earlier part of the book of Acts ! 
 What a great number of precious practical lessons 
 has he been the means of our learning! What a 
 mighty character was his, — that Luther of the apos- 
 tolic age, — towering, as Luther did, above all but a 
 few of his fellow Christians ! But the very fact that 
 to distinguish Andrew more clearly it was easiest to 
 call him Simon Peter's brother, has tended to ob- 
 scure the merit of the less renowned disciple. He is 
 presented to us in the Gospel history in the shadow 
 of his brother's giant shape. This puts him at a 
 disadvantage. Not that Christian historians have been 
 wrong in their estimate of the two — Peter was the 
 greater ; but that Christ, by choosing Andrew also 
 to the apostleship, recognized his worth, where his- 
 tory has scarcely done so. He is a fair type, we 
 doubt not, of multitudes of useful people whose 
 worth is unrecognized because men either see or 
 
SIMON PETER' S BR O TIIER 273 
 
 are looking for some one of very extraordinary char- 
 acteristics. 
 
 Now it is true that we know but little of Simon 
 Peter's brother. We do not know which was the 
 older of the two. We are informed that their home 
 was Bethsaida of Galilee, which seems to have been 
 a town on the Sea of Galilee not far from Capernaum. 
 We hear of Andrew first as one of the disciples of 
 John the Baptist, and as one of those who heard 
 the great preacher say, as he pointed to Jesus, 
 "Behold the Lamb of God ! " That testimony to Jesus 
 as the Christ was enough for Andrew and his fellow 
 disciple John. They followed Jesus, made His ac- 
 quaintance, and abode with Him that day. Andrew 
 thenceforth ranked himself as a believer in Jesus of 
 Nazareth ; and on the very day of his own accept- 
 ance of Jesus, brought his brother Simon Peter to the 
 Master. 
 
 Thereafter we hear of this apostle on only four occa- 
 sions : When the Galilean ministry of Jesus was begin- 
 ning, He called these men, whose faith He had already 
 won, to be His constant followers ; and He marked their 
 call by the miraculous draught of fishes, which symbol- 
 ized so well the task to which He was calling them 
 and the power by which He would give them success. 
 We are told that Andrew, as well as Peter, obeyed 
 the summons, left all, and followed Jesus, in order to 
 
 be a " fisher of men." When, again, the public minis- 
 is 
 
274 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 try of Jesus was about half finished, He performed on 
 the cast shore of the Sea of Galilee that wonderful act 
 of feeding, from a few loaves and fishes, five thousand 
 men. St. John, whose clear memory often appears in 
 such particulars as this, tells us that when the disciples 
 were asked by Jesus how that vast multitude could be 
 fed, Andrew replied, with a vague feeling, I suppose, 
 that, absurd as the provision seemed, it might be a 
 help, or at least a starting-point, for other supplies: 
 "There is a lad here which hath five barley loaves, and 
 two small fishes; but what are they among so many?" 
 Again, when the ministry of Jesus was nearing its 
 close, certain Greeks wished to see the new Messiah, 
 and applied to Philip. Philip consulted Andrew, and 
 together Andrew and Philip told Jesus. And, finally, 
 when Christ gave on Mount Olivet to a few disciples 
 that solemn prediction of the future, — of the fall of 
 Jerusalem, and the troubles and persecutions which 
 were impending, and of the end of the world itself, — 
 we read not only that Peter and John and James were 
 present, — those three whom so often Jesus took into 
 special confidence, — but also that Andrew shared on 
 this occasion the sad privilege of listening to the 
 terrible prophecy. 
 
 With these few items our knowledge of the apostle 
 Andrew ends. It is noteworthy that St. John, with 
 whom Andrew first found the Saviour, tells us the 
 most that we know of Simon Peter's brother. It is 
 
SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 2? $ 
 
 noteworthy, also, that Andrew and Philip are often 
 mentioned in a way which seems to indicate that 
 they were intimate friends. Perhaps there was more 
 congeniality between the two friends than between 
 the two brothers. Andrew, cast into the shade by 
 Peter, naturally strengthened his friendship with 
 Philip, who was more nearly on his own level. Our 
 knowledge of the man, however, is but small. We 
 do not wonder that he should be distinguished from 
 other Andrews by being called Simon Peter's brother. 
 It is true that he was more renowned for his brother 
 than for himself. Quite sharp is the contrast between 
 the quick-tongued, energetic, commanding Peter, 
 whose name is strewn thickly on the pages of the 
 Gospels, and the brother, whose name occurs so sel- 
 dom, and then apparently in the most incidental way. 
 
 But, in spite of all this, it would be a great mistake 
 to slight Andrew and to think that he was of no value 
 in the apostolic circle. Let us look a little more closely 
 into these glimpses of his life. Let us try to estimate 
 the real merit of the man. We should remember that 
 in general Andrew was, from first to last, faithful to the 
 voice of God. He was one of the disciples of John 
 the Baptist, and that means that he was a loyal, earnest 
 son of Israel ; a man of spiritual mind, who heard in 
 the words of the great preacher a message from 
 Almighty God. Nor did he, like so many, follow 
 John the Baptist in a blind, unintelligent way. He 
 
276 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 believed him to be, as John himself said, the herald of 
 the Messiah. Few of the people understood the 
 mission of John; but Andrew did, and he proved the 
 fact by leaving the Baptist and joining himself to 
 Jesus when the prophet pointed the latter out as the 
 promised Christ. From that day forward Andrew 
 was faithful to the true Light which had arisen. 
 Though not conspicuous, he was devoted ; though 
 taking no prominent place, he was a faithful follower. 
 If no great confession or service is told of him, so 
 neither is any great failure or denial. At the Lord's 
 command he, too, left all and followed Him. When 
 the perils of the way increased, Andrew stood his 
 ground firmly. Because nothing noteworthy is related, 
 we should not forget that he was a faithful worker. So 
 far, at least, he was a type of the true disciple. We 
 should bear in mind that of necessity there must be 
 many more Andrews than Simon Peters, more captains 
 than generals in the army, and that the fidelity of the 
 former may be as worthy of praise as the brilliant acts 
 of the latter. Andrew became a type of the multitude 
 of believers who are not called to conspicuous posts, 
 but on whose loyalty the cause of Christ depends, and 
 in whose ripening Christian characters we may see the 
 grace of the Divine Spirit quite as markedly as in the 
 shining qualities of the few who are so often marked 
 by equally evident faults. 
 
 I see, also, indications of certain distinctive qualities 
 
SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 2JJ 
 
 in Andrew which more particularly merit our commen- 
 dation. He seems to have had an active, alert mind, 
 eagerly watchful of the course of events, and to have 
 felt their tremendous importance. He seems to have 
 been a wide-awake, useful man of work ; if not as ready 
 as Peter to speak in public, quite as ready to speak for 
 Christ in private ; always glad to do what he could by 
 personal toil to advance the Master's cause. I imagine 
 him a man of quick observation and of an inquiring 
 mind, as well as of true spiritual fervor. You may 
 have noticed in some men of obscure lives nearly all 
 the qualities which seem necessary for public position 
 — clear judgment, deep conviction, fertility of resources, 
 power to influence others — while yet some one defect 
 of trifling nature, such as hesitation to act, reticence of 
 speech, or the like, may doom them always to be lost 
 in the crowd. Perhaps it was so with the apostle 
 Andrew. At any rate, he was the means of his greater 
 brother's conversion. If Peter overshadowed Andrew, 
 Andrew brought Peter to Jesus. No sooner had he 
 found the Christ himself than he told the discovery to 
 his brother. He began his Christian life in the right 
 way. He immediately became a missionary; and, first 
 of all, a missionary to his own family, which most men 
 find it hard to be. Many would rather preach to the 
 heathen than to their brothers. Andrew did the latter, 
 and thereby showed one of the traits of his character. 
 Then take that other incident, to which I have 
 
278 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 already alluded, when the five thousand were fed. It 
 was Andrew who was ready with a practical suggestion. 
 He had been on the outskirts of the crowd. While 
 the five loaves and two fishes seemed an absurd pro- 
 vision for that great multitude, one cannot help believing 
 that Andrew was convinced that Christ could make 
 some use of them. He seems to me to have been a prac- 
 tical worker — a man who, if he could not make an ad- 
 dress, could be on the alert for opportunities of helping, 
 in a quiet way, the Master's object. He could not help 
 exclaiming, as he told Christ of the five loaves and two 
 small fishes, " What are these among so many ?" And 
 yet the fact that he thought them worth mention at 
 all indicates that he had a strong faith in the unlimited 
 power of Jesus. Did he not remember that draught 
 of fishes in the Sea of Galilee after they had toiled 
 all night and taken nothing? Andrew, with his prac- 
 tical mind, was alive to the worth of even small ma- 
 terials when put into the hands of the Son of God. 
 
 Then, also, shall we see nothing to commend in the 
 way in which Andrew and Philip tell Jesus of the 
 desire of the Greeks to see Him? I find in that 
 incident a repetition of the characteristic which Andrew 
 had showed at the first. He is the man who quietly 
 and by personal efforts brings men to Jesus. Some of 
 the disciples would have hesitated to introduce for- 
 eigners to Christ. They would, perhaps, have rejected 
 the notion that the Messiah was sent to the Gentiles, 
 
SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 279 
 
 or at least would have feared the possible effect on the 
 populace of throwing Christ into association with out- 
 siders. Philip was undecided what to do till he had 
 consulted Andrew. But the latter seems to have 
 better understood his Master. He felt that Jesus 
 would be glad to help and save any ; and it was just in 
 the line of his habits to be thus the medium of leading 
 inquiring minds to the Saviour of them all. 
 
 I think then that Peter's shadow is somewhat re- 
 moved from his brother. Andrew now appears a 
 faithful, useful man, doing good work in a quiet way, 
 even in advance of Peter in practical suggestions and, 
 perhaps, in the understanding of Christ's mission; not 
 fitted, indeed, to fill his brother's place, not the man 
 to stand up at Pentecost and preach to thousands, 
 but the man to add by constant, personal, practical 
 work to the power of the common cause. Every 
 Simon Peter needs an Andrew, every preacher needs 
 the practical workers to unite with him, just as every 
 general needs subordinate officers. If Andrew be 
 undervalued because of his brother's brilliancy and 
 publicity, he will not be when we remember how 
 little the latter could have done, humanly speaking, 
 without the aid of the former. Beyond doubt the 
 Master's choice was good. Simon Peter's brother 
 was as useful in his way and as truly an apostle as 
 Simon Peter himself. We admit that the latter was 
 the greater man of the two ; but we contend that it 
 
280 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 would be quite unfair to let his splendor throw too 
 much into the shadow the practical, useful, faithful life 
 of Andrew, his brother. 
 
 Now there are two or three lessons which I wish 
 to draw from the life of the apostle Andrew : One is 
 the folly of measuring our use and worth by com- 
 parison with the other people who are about us. 
 There is no more frequent cause of discontent than 
 this. Nearly every one finds himself, or thinks he is, 
 overshadowed by some one else. Very few rise to 
 conspicuous places. Very few attract the special 
 notice of the world. Many, however, fret under the 
 situation. They do not like to be relegated to 
 obscurity. They fancy that they are worth nothing 
 and can be of no use, because they are not worth so 
 much or are not so useful as others whom they know. 
 Strangely, too, this is a frequent fault with good people. 
 They have a real desire to be of use to God and 
 men. They feel that life is a service; that in one 
 sense all are apostles, sent of God with His message 
 of love and salvation to the world. But the little that 
 it is possible for them to accomplish in the world 
 causes discouragement. Others do more than they, 
 or seem to be doing more; and they fall into the 
 unhappy habit of " measuring themselves by them- 
 selves, and of comparing themselves among them- 
 selves" — of estimating their worth by comparison with 
 those about them. So they deepen their discontent. 
 
SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 28 1 
 
 Yet surely nothing is more foolish and more super- 
 ficial than this. Such an estimate is nowhere consid- 
 ered worth anything. As we look over history, and 
 try to measure the worth of this and that character, 
 we always feel that so long as we confine ourselves to 
 their particular circumstances we have the materials 
 for only a relative and not an absolute estimate. We 
 see some overshadowed, as Andrew was and as we 
 may be, by the presence of a few exceptional persons. 
 They are born in an age of great men. They are 
 thrown into near relation, either of time or place, 
 with an illustrious man, and by reason of that fact 
 they do not receive their full award of praise. Others, 
 on the contrary, are born in an age of little men : 
 and though they themselves be small, yet an inch 
 or two of height above that of their fellows would 
 not be a fair reason for classing them with the great 
 of a really great age. In that splendid burst of dra- 
 matic poetry which marked the reign of Elizabeth in 
 England, there were many men of genius whose 
 reputation, except to students of literature, has been 
 overshadowed by their nearness to Shakespeare. 
 Some one has said, — perhaps not with accuracy, 
 but the remark illustrates our point, — that " it was 
 fortunate for Cromwell that he appeared upon the 
 stage at the precise moment when the people were 
 tired of kings ; and unfortunate for his son Richard 
 that he had to make good his pretensions at a 
 
282 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 moment when the people were equally tired of pro- 
 tectors." However that may have been, other names 
 will occur to us of men who became famous because 
 they lived when there were none to eclipse their fame ; 
 though if they had belonged to a later period they 
 would soon have been forgotten. 
 
 We may see others, also, who are overshadowed, 
 not by persons, but by circumstances. Some have 
 hard tasks, and because they do not succeed perfectly 
 they may be undervalued. Others are successful, but 
 deserve little praise because their task was easy. In 
 none of these cases would an estimate be fair which 
 was based only upon comparison with contemporaries. 
 The just critic tries to make allowance for these 
 facts. He who has been obscured by the nearness of 
 a stronger light may reflect that otherwise he would 
 shine brightly too, like the stars at night. And some- 
 times we find on examination that, like the stars, he 
 may be really greater even than the nearer sun which 
 hides his light from the eyes of men. 
 
 We must not make this mistake in our own cases. 
 It is folly to compare ourselves thus with those about 
 us. We shall be sure to find ourselves excelled. We 
 shall be sure to find ourselves hidden by the shadow 
 of a larger figure ; and if once we begin such com- 
 parison, we shall be doomed to discontent. The 
 vigor of our life will wane. God does not judge us 
 so. He knows our absolute worth. Christ chose 
 
SIMON PE TER 'S BRO TIIER 283 
 
 Andrew no less than Peter. He saw his worth, He 
 appreciated his character, He made him useful. To 
 Christ the Master, therefore, are we to look, going 
 each the way which He has appointed, never say- 
 ing, "Lord, what shall this man do?" but "What 
 wilt Thou have me to do?" — content through 
 knowing that in His eyes our desire to serve Him 
 will never be unseen or unrewarded. What if 
 others seem to excel us? It is not for us to make 
 such comparisons. Christ will know whether we 
 are doing our work well or not. 
 
 Then, also, we may be reminded by Simon Peter's 
 brother of the great positive need which every cause 
 has of quiet, inconspicuous, but faithful workers. Is it 
 not suggestive of this that so few of the apostles 
 should have left their mark upon the history of the 
 Church or on the record in the New Testament? 
 Were they not called to the post of highest honor 
 possible for man ? Was not their work the grandest 
 that men have ever been commissioned to perform ? 
 And is there any reason to think that, except Judas 
 Iscariot, they were unfaithful ? Yet how little do 
 we know of most of them ! Only a few were 
 meant to leave behind them not only permanent 
 but visible effects. The rest scattered and toiled on 
 till death called them to their reward. They 
 started missions here and there ; they witnessed for 
 Christ and the resurrection. They were none the 
 
284 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 less necessary, none the less useful, for having been 
 forgotten. Certainly, it is true in secular affairs that 
 the inconspicuous people do the bulk of the world's 
 work. A few may lead ; and it may be that but 
 for them the mass would go astray. But the quiet 
 workers achieve the principal results. The private 
 soldiers win the battle. The workmen make the 
 goods. The miners dig out the ore. And the prog- 
 ress of human society is due not merely to the 
 genius of the few, but also to the work and faithful- 
 ness of the unknown many. 
 
 Thus Andrew becomes an encouragement to us, 
 and particularly in respect to that moral and relig- 
 ious toil which God has apportioned to every one. 
 He suggests the power of personal work and influ- 
 ence exerted in quiet ways. We recall how he 
 brought his brother Simon Peter to Jesus, saying, 
 " We have found the Messias " ; and then how he 
 made himself the willing medium through which 
 even Gentiles could approach the Saviour of the 
 world. Now there is an amount of usefulness pos- 
 sible in this way which can scarcely be overstated. 
 Personal influence is a great force, more irresistible 
 than eloquence or formal authority ; and yet it is a 
 force which depends only on character, — yea, may 
 sometimes issue unconsciously, and even from a child. 
 Men may yield assent to argument or eloquence, but 
 a word from one whom they love or admire will do 
 
SIMON PETER'S BR OTHER 28$ 
 
 far more to fix their faith. You do not need to be 
 conspicuous in order to be useful, so long as you can 
 reach men individually ; can throw the weight of your 
 personal life and character for God and His Son : so 
 long as you can stand in your place, whatever it be, 
 and convince men that you are a Christian : so long 
 as you can go here and there on errands of love and 
 of salvation, telling the needy of the riches of God's 
 grace, saying to one and another of your fellow men, 
 " We have found the Christ." 
 
 Assuredly, this is a great lesson. What Christianity 
 needs, in order to her speedier success, is not better 
 arguments, not more elaborate churches, not elo- 
 quence, not genius, not more Peters and Pauls and 
 Johns. She needs all of her humbler disciples to 
 give themselves, in their humble spheres, to the 
 work, as far as in them lies, of saving souls. She 
 needs the rank and file of her legions to do their 
 individual duty. Men easily come to think that the 
 ministry and the formal servants of the Church are 
 the only agents whom Christ has chosen. It is a 
 great mistake. Every one of us, by the power of 
 quiet personal work, may, like Andrew, be worthy 
 of a place among apostles. 
 
 Truly, as we look over the annals of human progress 
 under the Gospel, we are forced again and again to 
 confess the usefulness of thousands of whom the world 
 has heard but little. You could probably count upon 
 
286 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 your fingers the names of those whom you call the 
 chief defenders of Christ's cause in our age. But you 
 forget. Think of the hundreds who are quietly teach- 
 ing and preaching Christ in every heathen nation ; 
 think of the ten thousands who, week by week, 
 throughout Christendom, arc telling the children of 
 the Saviour. Think of the millions who are giving 
 their prayers, their money, and their influence to the 
 cause of the kingdom. And you will see that the real 
 power which is winning the world for God lies in 
 just these countless quiet, unknown people, who are 
 working together, though to each other unknown, 
 for the name of the one Lord. These are the 
 Andrews of our day — hidden, perhaps, as the apostle 
 was, by the brighter blaze of a few or of one, but 
 from Christ's sight not hidden, in Christ's view 
 most useful, and destined not to fail of a reward. 
 Did He not put the apostles on an equality ? " Ye 
 shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve 
 tribes of Israel," said He. Andrew then shall have 
 his true position, and it will be as glorious, as honor- 
 able as Simon Peter's own. 
 
 Our lesson, therefore, is, Do not be discouraged 
 by the greater fame, the more brilliant success of 
 others. Do not mind if you are overshadowed. You 
 will not mind, if you are living not for this world's 
 applause, but for the praise of Christ and for doing 
 right. Believe me, Christ has given you a great work, 
 
SIMON PETER'S BROTHER 287 
 
 great possibilities, great chances of being useful. You 
 have only to go to work, day by day. Remember 
 your calling. Think no man unworthy of your effort. 
 Be on the alert for opportunities. Do your own work, 
 help and save your own friends, make your own influ- 
 ence what it ought to be, and do not care one whit 
 whether men are looking at you or at some more 
 shining figure. Thank God that you have not Peter's 
 perils and temptations. Thank Him for what you are 
 enabled in your quieter life to do, and do it with your 
 might; for no man need be useless, and no man 
 need fail, unless he choose to, of gaining from 
 Christ a crown and a throne. 
 
XVI 
 
 A NOBLE LIFE 
 
 " For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is 
 at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have 
 kept the faith." — 2 Timothy iv. 6, 7. 
 
 We learn some of our best lessons from the death- 
 hours of our fellow-men. The voice which is already 
 almost a voice from the grave strikes into our very- 
 souls. Or even if the dying lips give no utterance, 
 our minds fancy that we can hear what they would 
 speak. At such a moment we are forced to moralize. 
 We see the ways of life converging ; results revealing 
 the value of principles ; hope turning into retrospect. 
 The moral naturally comes out at the end of the story; 
 and even the fastest runners in the common race are 
 forced to pause and think when one by their side 
 falls into the dust, and by the mere fact of dying be- 
 comes a teacher of the living. By the graves of the 
 righteous we instinctively cry with Balaam, " Let 
 me die the death of the righteous, and let my last 
 end be like his." And even the most careless feel, 
 for at least a moment, the wrong of sin and the 
 worth of godliness. 
 
 Thus the great apostle gave as his last legacy to 
 19 289 
 
29O FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Timothy the splendid moral of his own life. He is an 
 old man writing to a young man. He feels himself virtu- 
 ally dead. " Already," he says, " I am being offered." 
 All hope of further work was ended. His martyr- 
 dom was certain. He was lying in a Roman prison. 
 No doubt he was already actually sentenced. At 
 any rate, he had given up all expectation of release. 
 He felt like a victim laid upon the altar, and seemed to 
 see the glittering knife uplifted to slay him. There- 
 fore he wrote to his beloved friend and spiritual son 
 with perfect freedom. 
 
 There is no coarse egotism in this frank expression 
 of satisfaction with his life. He was prompted to 
 write as he did, no doubt, by several considerations. 
 Timothy was his intimate companion, and he could 
 speak to him as a father to a son. Timothy, 
 moreover, was still in the midst of the battle, 
 and needed the encouragement which the peace 
 and joy of his dying father were likely to impart. 
 Then, too, Paul felt himself to be a representative 
 man. He stood for the Gospel to the Gentiles. He 
 had been bitterly assailed, even by those who should 
 have been his friends. He had suffered for his faith 
 the loss of all worldly goods. His life had, indeed, 
 been a battle with poverty, with persecution, with 
 falsehood and wrong, as well as with indwelling sin. 
 He naturally spoke, therefore, in his dying hour in the 
 name of his faith. He would support it with his last 
 
A NOBLE IJFE 29 1 
 
 breath. He would testify to its worth at that moment 
 when all things are tested. He would certify to the 
 absence of even the least shadow of regret as he re- 
 viewed the way which had begun with the renunciation 
 of early ambitions, which had been thorny, and bloody, 
 and tortuous, and which was now ending in a violent 
 death. Hence, I suppose, the freedom of his speech. 
 Hence this full expression of satisfaction as he reviewed 
 the past. He was not moved by any wish to be canon- 
 ized as a saint. He was simply full of gratitude to the 
 gracious Lord who had saved and used him. He gave 
 his dying testimony that Timothy and all men might 
 receive a fresh impulse to follow, as he had done, in 
 the footsteps of the Son of God. 
 
 Behold, then, Paul's readiness to die. The strife 
 was over with him. The appointed hour had come. 
 He looks back and he looks forward, and if in the 
 future he can see, like a star in the night, the glittering 
 crown which God had promised, he can see, too, in 
 the past, manifold sources of satisfaction ; and as he 
 lies on the altar, he can feel that he has not lived and 
 toiled in vain. 
 
 I ask you to notice his three sources of satisfaction 
 as he reviewed his life. We may glean from them 
 how our lives ought to be viewed by us, and how we 
 may live so as to die with the shining crown in sight. 
 
 He rejoiced, then, that he had "fought the good 
 fight." There was no doubt that he had been a 
 
292 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 warrior and his life a battle. From the hour of his 
 conversion he had been in armor, his shield scarcely 
 ever lowered, and his sword scarcely ever in the scab- 
 bard. He had contended with the tremendous power 
 of old tradition, of family and racial prejudice, so that 
 his own people had branded him with the name of 
 traitor and renegade. He had contended with mis- 
 fortune. In spite of poverty he had carried on his 
 mission, working with his own hands for self-support. 
 In spite of a score of physical evils, — shipwreck, per- 
 secution, bodily sickness, — he had kept to his chosen 
 task. He had contended, likewise, against many errors 
 which threatened to spoil or undo the work of his life ; 
 he had fought the haughty power of philosophy, the 
 tyranny of mobs, and the displeasure of princes. He 
 had led the attack of a new religion against the 
 strongly intrenched forces of ancient superstitions ; 
 had assaulted the favorite passions of the human heart; 
 had charged against the old gods and their worship, 
 and had given them their death-blow. Whatever may 
 be our valuation of Paul's work, no doubt he was a 
 warrior in the battlefield of mind and society. He 
 was a controversialist ; he was a missionary ; he was 
 plainly declared, by his sufferings, to be, in the view 
 of the world, the active enemy of its pleasures. Ac- 
 cording to his own graphic description, his lot had 
 been cast " in labors more abundant, in strifes above 
 measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft." 
 
A NOBLE LIFE 293 
 
 Wounded, bruised, captured, condemned to die, — he 
 could at least say with truth that his life had been a 
 battle. 
 
 But I beg you to notice that his satisfaction did 
 not arise from the mere excitement and pleasure of 
 the war, nor from the consciousness that he had con- 
 ducted himself well. There are some who love fight- 
 ing for its own sake. They enjoy a controversy. 
 Their spirits rise with danger. They are happiest 
 when they don their intellectual armor and enter the 
 field. And some, I suppose, even congratulate them- 
 selves, when life is ending, that they have contended 
 so well. They count their laurels. They relate with 
 pride how they worsted some competitor in debate 
 or in business ; how they shrewdly circumvented some 
 fellow-man. Thev look at life as nothing but a battle, 
 and, like some old soldier, live over in their age the 
 fierce encounters of bygone days. It is hard, however, 
 to have much admiration for such a spectacle. That 
 a dying man should not be a man of peace is almost 
 horrible. Even on actual fields of blood, dying ene- 
 mies clasp hands and enter the other world friends. 
 I would not like to imagine the apostle flushing in 
 his last moments with the remembrance of his valor. 
 It was not this which made him glad. Our common 
 translation misinterprets him. He did not say, "I 
 have fought a good fight," as though his fighting 
 qualities were the source of his satisfaction. He said, 
 
294 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 " I have fought the good fight." He rejoices not in 
 his own bravery, but in the justice of his cause. He 
 had not been fighting for self, or money, or office. 
 He had been a warrior indeed, — but for truth and 
 righteousness. He had been contending against sin, — 
 in the world and in his own soul. He had been privi- 
 leged to range himself with goodness and truth in their 
 conflict with vice and error. This was his first source 
 of satisfaction as he reviewed his life. Forced to 
 fight, he had fought on the right side. Covered with 
 wounds, every one of them was a mark of his loyalty 
 to God. He was glad that he had fought the good 
 fight; that, in a world of conflict, he had by divine 
 grace given all his power to the side of God, and 
 truth, and righteousness. This was quite another 
 spirit from that of an aged warrior telling over the 
 battles of his youth. 
 
 Now, it is almost too trite to say that life must be a 
 battle, if it is to result in anything worthy of remem- 
 brance. Every man finds it so, unless he is content 
 to go down to an unhonored grave. It is a struggle 
 for existence, to say no more. Most men have to win 
 their daily bread, — struggling against the temptations 
 to indolence, perhaps against misfortune, certainly 
 struggling against the lawful competition of others. 
 It is in such a struggle that ordinarily industry, per- 
 severance, courage, and training capture the spoils. 
 But then, too, life is a struggle the more fierce 
 
A NOBLE LIFE 295 
 
 in proportion as the coveted prize is nobler than 
 bread and raiment. One must needs fight like a 
 Spartan for the honors of the world; endure the hard- 
 ship of many a long campaign before a fortune has 
 been gathered. There are now and then men born 
 to crowns and millions, but they are simply enjoying 
 the fruits of the conflicts which their fathers waged. 
 The natural drift of things is against our pleasure. 
 The body is always wearing out, and money is always 
 taking wings, and honors are always being forgotten, 
 and work is always being surpassed. We have only to 
 stand still in order to perish ; and, therefore, life calls 
 for all the diligence and perseverance, all the tenacity 
 of purpose, and self-control, and patient industry which 
 we can acquire. 
 
 I might profitably enlarge upon this. There are 
 many to whom this seems the most important lesson. 
 No man can play with vice without endangering his 
 honor. Vice, ignorance, idleness, — whatever enfeebles 
 the hand and brain, or tempts a man from his place 
 in the ranks, — must be sternly overcome by those of 
 us who would make our lives worth living. But 
 this is not the lesson taught by Paul. Many a man 
 has had all the qualities of success and has suc- 
 ceeded, and yet when his death-hour came, has bit- 
 terly felt that the prize was not worth the struggle. 
 The apostle taught that there are some things worthier 
 our struggle than all else, and that satisfaction will 
 
296 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 come if we can feel that for these things we have 
 contended. There is one fight going on all the time, 
 which is called, by preeminence, " the good fight." It 
 is the copy in our world of the struggle of the angel 
 powers themselves. It is the battle of light with 
 darkness. It is the gigantic effort of the human soul, 
 under the influence of God, to overcome its lusts, to 
 cleanse its abode of the shames and wrongs which foul 
 them. It is the struggle of the mind to shake off the 
 fetters of ignorance and slavish fear, and to come out 
 into the sunlight of God's truth. 
 
 For a man to be captivated by the mere struggle 
 for existence, or for pleasure and comfort, is for him 
 to say virtually he has no soul. If he had, he would 
 feel that the fight which demands his life is that 
 between God and the devil. Its forms are many, 
 its phases innumerable. But in them all there is 
 the conflict of but two principles, — of evil against 
 duty, of moral slavery against freedom, of sin against 
 righteousness, of ignorance and error against knowl- 
 edge and truth. The greatest source of satisfaction 
 will be that we have enlisted in this war, and that 
 we have fought for God. We may have had hum- 
 ble positions ; we may have received many wounds 
 and falls ; we may have won few victories ; we may 
 have lived but a few years ; but we have done what 
 we could, and our lives have been a contention not 
 for selfish enjoyment, but for the advancement, in 
 
A NOBLE LIFE 297 
 
 some way and in some relation, of the kingdom of 
 divine peace. Fellow-men, you cannot escape conflict. 
 Why not then battle for what is right? You cannot 
 escape wounds. Why not receive wounds of honor? 
 We must work, and toil, and suffer. Why not do it 
 for a cause which will give us the satisfaction of 
 knowing that, whether of great or little use, we have 
 at least thrown our energies into "the good fight"? 
 
 But note the apostle's second cause of satisfac- 
 tion in his review of his life. " I have finished the 
 course." What course? we may ask. Clearly, the 
 course appointed him by God. It was now finished. 
 He had reached the goal. And he felt satisfaction in 
 the thought, not so much that it was over, as that he 
 had submitted to the will of Him who had directed 
 his way. 
 
 Paul was a conspicuous example of a man whose 
 life had been chosen for him by God. Certainly, 
 the course along which he had come was one of 
 which, in the beginning, he had never dreamed. He 
 had chosen to become the valorous champion of 
 Judaism. God chose him to be the champion of the 
 faith against which Judaism waged war. When this 
 direction had been given to his steps, he would fain have 
 chosen to preach to his own people whom he had 
 zealously misled. But God chose him to be His mes- 
 senger to the Gentiles, and in that work his move- 
 ments were singularly directed from above. It was 
 
298 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 the Spirit who said in Antioch, " Separate me Barnabas 
 and Saul for the work to which I have called them." 
 It was the Spirit who hindered his laboring in Ephesus 
 until he had first carried the Gospel to Macedonia 
 and Greece. It was the choice of the Master that 
 through the persecution of his countrymen he should 
 be carried to Rome and enabled by his very imprison- 
 ment to tell of Christ to Caesar's household. If ever 
 a man had reason to feel himself God's instrument, it 
 was Paul. If ever a man had reason to feel that noth- 
 ing had come to him by chance, but all by divine 
 appointment, it was Paul. He did so feel. He was 
 impressed with the conviction that he was God's in- 
 strument ; that he had been raised up for a purpose ; 
 that his had been a course marked out by the decree 
 of the Almighty in order to the salvation of mankind. 
 Therefore, in his last hours, looking back upon 
 the way, he enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing that 
 his life had been God's handiwork, and that he had 
 fulfilled the divine will. Mark, that he could have this 
 feeling even though conscious of many shortcomings. 
 No man was ever less conceited than Paul. So far as 
 his personal character was concerned, he was always 
 ready to condemn himself. The bitter remembrance 
 of his early life was ever uprooting the least tendency 
 to pride ; and the sense of ill desert was repeatedly ex- 
 pressed. To this same Timothy he had but lately 
 called himself " the chief of sinners." 
 
A NOBLE LIFE 299 
 
 Nor did the apostle mean to say that he had done 
 for Christ all the work he would like to have done. 
 There were regions which he had not visited. There 
 were millions of souls who had never heard of re- 
 demption. He was far from wishing, I doubt not, to 
 retire from the ministry. His was too great a soul 
 not to lay plans which it was impossible to accom- 
 plish. 
 
 His feeling was simply that what he had been 
 able to do was what had been appointed him to do. 
 God had meant him to do so much and no more. 
 He included in his review of his course all events 
 which had befallen him. He included his sufferings, 
 his losses, his disappointments, his omissions, as well 
 as his personal labors and gains. He was but an in- 
 strument. The work which he had not been able to 
 do others would accomplish. Every good man's life 
 fits into its intended place, and Paul's joy was that he 
 had been made willing both to do and to suffer accord- 
 ing to the will of God. 
 
 According to this, life is an appointment. We 
 must not allow this view to degenerate into fatal- 
 ism. We must not make it an excuse for idly drift- 
 ing with the current of circumstances. No man was 
 ever so strong a predestinarian and, at the same 
 time, so energetic a worker as Paul. The view of life 
 as a divine appointment in all its parts, which he has 
 taught, is rather a summons to do with all our might 
 
300 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 the will of God. It is the appointment of freemen, 
 not the bondage of slaves. But with this caution, we 
 may find in it a grand secret of strength and of true 
 success. How inspiring is the thought that this in- 
 tricate system which we call society, this infinitely 
 involved life of humanity, is working out the purpose 
 of the One in whom the whole lives and moves and 
 has its being! If so, then true success consists in 
 doing the part assigned us. The best workman in a 
 factory is not one who tries to do everything, who 
 thinks he knows everything, but the one who does 
 his own work perfectly. A complete life is one which 
 has done its own work. You who are young know 
 not what your part is to be. It may involve great 
 suffering, or it may involve great wealth. We cannot 
 tell. But whatever it involves, it is part of the divine 
 plan, and if we are God's, it will work out our own 
 good. 
 
 Therefore, he is the wisest man who goes into life 
 with the conviction that he has something definite 
 to do there, and makes it his business to follow, as 
 best he can, the indications of Providence. True, God 
 does not send us our orders as a general sends his to 
 his soldiers. But He has given us plain directions 
 about the principles to govern life, and His Providence 
 supplies the material to which we are to apply them. 
 The noblest life is not that which seeks to do its own 
 will, neither is it that which indolently waits for God 
 
A XOBLE LIFE 301 
 
 to do His will with it. The noblest life is that which 
 strives to do His will. This means the greatest conse- 
 crated resignation in its place, and patience in its place, 
 and industry in its place, and joy and peace in all 
 places ; and, through all, it means a living faith — 
 not merely faith in the past or in the future, but faith 
 in the present as the manifestation of God's wisdom. 
 
 It is this faith which makes a man work while it 
 is called to-day — " not slothful in business, fervent in 
 spirit, serving the Lord " — and which also makes 
 him take reverses without despair, and afflictions 
 without doubting, and meet death with joy. It is 
 equally the faith for the martyr and for the man of 
 business, for the king and for the peasant. Each 
 one of us has his own course. Let a man take 
 Christ for his Master, and then, be his fortune what 
 it may, if only he follow his Guide, he will have the 
 satisfaction of feeling, at the end, that his life, though 
 it were the humblest, had been like the apostle's, 
 yea, like Christ's, — part of God's plan in the salva- 
 tion of man. What inspiration better than this ! 
 What bitterness to feel at death that one has fought 
 against wisdom in the vain effort to serve oneself! 
 What peace to be able to feel that we have " finished 
 the course !" 
 
 And now you will notice that in the remaining 
 clause of this terse and eloquent passage, which fell 
 from the apostle's lips under the evident strain of in- 
 
3<D2 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 tense emotion, he states in plain terms the original 
 source of this satisfaction which in the previous clauses 
 we have found him to express under such forcible 
 figures. " I have fought the good fight," have thrown 
 my energy on the side of Christ and righteousness. I 
 have finished the course, have done my appointed task 
 of mingled suffering and action. In fine, " I have kept 
 the faith " — and, as we have seen, that good fight is the 
 battle of faith ; and the appointed course is the way 
 of faith. It is evident that in this last clause we have 
 the plain, straightforward statement of the source of 
 the dying apostle's joy. 
 
 He had kept the faith. He speaks of it as a trust 
 committed to his care. It had been given him by 
 revelation from God, and to it he had devoted his 
 whole life. He had kept it from the covert attacks of 
 mistaken Christians and the open assaults of unbelief. 
 He had kept it through those hours of spiritual dark- 
 ness through which he, no less than others, had had 
 to pass. He had kept it in Jerusalem before the mob 
 howling for his denial of it ; before philosophers who 
 sneered at its absurdity; before Roman power, with its 
 burning pitch, and bloody arena, and executioner's 
 block. 
 
 Wonderfully varied had Paul's trials been. The 
 prince of this world had used his shrewdest devices 
 to filch his faith away. But the believer had kept 
 his treasure, and now that the war and toil were over, 
 
A NOBLE LIFE 303 
 
 his faith stood by his side, like a protecting angel, 
 pointing to the near reward. 
 
 It is certain that this is, in substance, the supreme 
 duty for you and me. This phrase puts before us the 
 principle by which alone our lives can be redeemed 
 from eternal ruin. What you need, fellow-men, in 
 your passage through this world, is to keep the 
 faith. You have received it from God as truly as 
 Paul did. You are heirs of nineteen Christian cen- 
 turies — spiritual children of apostles, and prophets, and 
 confessors — and there is no treasure which birth or 
 work can give you equal to this Christian faith. 
 
 You will find this advice sorely needed. For the 
 chief object of all evil is to take your faith away. I 
 mean not merely that to this end are the arguments of 
 professed infidelity directed. To this end are directed 
 also the far subtler arguments of the practical world 
 with which you must mingle. The pressure of constant 
 work will tend to rob you of your faith, because it will 
 suggest that what you gain comes only from your own 
 skill and toil. The ways of the world, in its social 
 relations, will too often suggest that it is folly to live 
 for distant pleasures and rewards when tangible ones 
 can be had immediately. Then, in the association of 
 trial and sorrow, you will feel a giant's hand striving to 
 wrest from you your faith in the goodness and being 
 of God. You will find it the struggle of struggles to 
 maintain your faith in God when His ways are strange; 
 
304 FAITH AAD LIFE 
 
 your faith in man when the soul is hidden in fleshli- 
 ness and sin ; your faith in immortality ; and, as the 
 centre of all truth, your faith in Jesus Christ. And 
 even as you rally your resolution there will sometimes 
 come the sickening doubt whether you are right in 
 maintaining the contest, — whether you and your fellow- 
 men might not as well lie down like beasts in the dust 
 and die. 
 
 I say this not to encourage doubt, but to warn 
 you of the lofty enterprise to which God calls us 
 in this world. It is to live by faith, — yea, by the 
 faith of the Son of God who loves you. How do we 
 know it ? We know it by the fruits which " the faith " 
 has always borne ; so that no lives are so God-like as 
 those of believers. We know by the clear historic 
 testimony which has been borne to the truth of Jesus ; 
 by the effects which faith in Him have produced in the 
 life of humanity. We know it by the testimony of our 
 own souls to their spiritual and God-like nature. This 
 is no mere dogma of theology. This is no invention 
 of priests. Faith is a necessity of the soul, if man 
 would not find himself wandering away from and 
 losing sight of the Ideal of perfection which he calls 
 his God. What is more horrible than a soul that 
 has lost the faith ? With it, it has lost hope, and the 
 future is mist and blackness. With it, it has lost cour- 
 age, for the stimulus of courage has been destroyed. 
 With its faith, it has lost its sense of God and eternity, 
 
A NOBLE LIFE 305 
 
 and must, therefore, needs dwindle into either a sneer- 
 ing skeptic or a child of passion and of sin. 
 
 I beseech you, young men, to keep the faith. I am 
 not pleading for any blind adherence to tradition 
 for tradition's sake. Let your faith grow with grow- 
 ing knowledge and ripen with the experience of life. 
 I am pleading for that living, spiritual power, that 
 conviction of the truth and that sense of the universal 
 reality of God and of Christ as the only Saviour, 
 which is rightly called "the faith," and by which alone 
 you can resist the evil and attain to the final good. 
 This is the shield by which you may quench the fiery 
 darts of the wicked one. This is the treasure by 
 guarding which you will become fit for the enjoyment 
 of heaven and a victor in the present battle of life. 
 Behold the dying apostle, smiling amid his martyrdom, 
 as he catches sight of the crown of righteousness 
 waiting to adorn his brow ; and let it give force to 
 the words which Christ sent to His people in their 
 temptation : " Hold fast that thou hast : let no man 
 take thy crown." 
 
 Fellow-men, God pleads for your outspoken faith. 
 Without it, you are lost souls. With it, you may be 
 more than conquerors. In your business and in your 
 studies, in your private lives and in your public stations, 
 let the words of inspiration ever ring in your ear: 
 "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even 
 our faith." 
 20 
 
XVII 
 
 GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 
 
 " As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spread- 
 eth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings : so the 
 Lord alone did lead him, and there was uo strange god with him." — 
 Deut. xxxii. ii, 12. 
 
 That God is in this world educating His children, 
 is a truth that puts us in a position to understand 
 much of His dealing with us that would otherwise 
 be unaccountable. If He be thus doing, He must 
 accommodate, for example, His disclosure of truth 
 to our capacities : these must expand before more 
 truth can be received. Slowly must the training 
 proceed in order that our faculties may be strength- 
 ened, our sympathies quickened, our whole being 
 lifted from step to step in the ascent toward complete 
 knowledge. 
 
 This, you will see, throws light on the slowness with 
 which revelation itself was given to the world, the 
 time extending over a period of at least fifteen hun- 
 dred years ; on the peculiar manner in which it was 
 interwoven with the history of national, and the prog- 
 ress of individual, life ; on the gradual way in which 
 the world, as a whole, is being led into the knowledge 
 of divine truth. When we consider the vast numbers 
 
 307 
 
308 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 of our race, and the intricacy of the process by which 
 human souls must be trained, we must feci that 
 the slow growth of man into the divine life is not so 
 strange as at first might appear. And we shall per- 
 ceive that this method is employed not because God 
 does not know the end from the beginning ; and not 
 because He cannot, if He choose, work miracles of 
 transformation ; but because it is better for us that the 
 course should be made by regular and gradual pro- 
 cesses, — by methods adapted to us rather than to 
 God. 
 
 This idea of patient training is expressed in our 
 text with reference to God's treatment of Israel. The 
 passage is part of the magnificent song which Moses 
 addressed to the people before he left them, a song 
 to which he was specially inspired, and in which he 
 most poetically described their God and His dealing 
 with them. Jehovah had found them lost and perish- 
 ing; forgetful of their ancestral faith; polluted by 
 pagan influences and by years of degrading bondage. 
 Very patiently had He trained them ; seeking to bring 
 out their strength, but most compassionate of their 
 weakness ; instructing them in the way of salvation 
 and forgiving their repeated transgressions ; correct- 
 ing their faults and developing their powers. 
 
 In this work Moses himself had shared, and he could 
 speak of it feelingly. He had been the under-teacher, 
 but he knew well that the truth taught was God's, not 
 
GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 309 
 
 his; the plan pursued, the patience shown, the wisdom 
 manifested, the protection afforded, had all been the 
 Lord's own doing. This he depicted under the figure 
 of an eagle teaching her young to fly. Her object is 
 to train their powers and, meanwhile, to protect them 
 from peril. 
 
 As the picture of the text is a most striking and 
 beautiful one, so the thought it contains, of the two- 
 fold purpose of God in the education of His people, 
 is a theme of universal application to all who by 
 faith number themselves among His Israel. Let me 
 present it to you in its application to ourselves. 
 God is educating His people. If we rebel against 
 Him, w r e are like truant children who will not so to 
 school, and who must take the consequences of igno- 
 rance and self-will. If we submit, we shall find that, 
 in this sense also, He is our Father. Observe that, 
 according to the text, the double purpose in God's 
 mind in relation to us is our development and our pro- 
 tection. Let us consider these in turn. 
 
 In the first place, then, God seeks by His treat- 
 ment of us on earth to develop in us spiritual powers. 
 I ought to guard this statement, indeed, by remarking 
 that He does something more than simply develop. 
 It is not true that mere education, even by a divine 
 hand, will suffice to make any man what he ought to 
 be. This is proved by the fact that the same course 
 will benefit some and harm others. Nor is this dif- 
 
3IO FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 ference a mere matter of nature. It is not true that 
 some are born good and some bad; just as some 
 are born bright and some dull. The Bible explicitly 
 declares all to be born bad : and, therefore, before 
 God can begin His education of the soul the germ 
 of spiritual life must be implanted in it. You can- 
 not train a dead vine, be the soil never so fertile 
 and the sun never so constant. You cannot educate 
 an imbecile. There must be life to be developed. 
 
 Hence in speaking of God's education, we can only 
 refer to those in whom the spirit of faith has begun to 
 dwell. To be sure, God may educate the race intel- 
 lectually, but that does not secure the salvation of 
 every member of the race. I would speak rather 
 of His education of His people. They are believers. 
 They have the Spirit. Only, their faith is perhaps as 
 small as a grain of mustard-seed ; their life is so weak 
 and immature as to be like to the life of a weak plant 
 rather than of a spiritual soul. It is, however, on this 
 basis that God works, and the purpose of our text is 
 to bring out His tender care in the development of 
 the souls of His children. For to as many as receive 
 Him, to them gives He power to become the sons of 
 God, which are born not of the will of the flesh, nor 
 of the will of man, but of God. 
 
 With this proviso, notice the evidence which life 
 affords of God's desire to develop our powers. It 
 appears, first of all, in His recognition of our individual 
 
GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 31 I 
 
 freedom. We touch here upon a confessedly difficult 
 subject; yet the general fact is certain and the bear- 
 ing of it on our education is plain. We are con- 
 scious of being in some sense free. To be sure, we 
 are also sensible that our freedom is limited. We 
 cannot do all that we may choose. Our freedom is 
 limited by our circumstances, which may as effectually 
 confine us as a cage does a bird. It is limited by the 
 rights and powers of others ; by misfortune or by the 
 habits of our own minds. Above all do we know that 
 our freedom is limited by the moral law and by God 
 Himself. But nevertheless we know that we are free. 
 We are conscious of acting upon reasons ; of being 
 governed by intelligible motives. We select our aims 
 and work toward them. We recognize certain prin- 
 ciples and confess our allegiance to them. Or perhaps 
 we rebel against them. We love, and hate, and think. 
 So that while we are surrounded by forces mightier 
 than we, while we are no doubt entirely dependent 
 upon God at every moment and in every act for our 
 very existence, still we are not mere pieces of ma- 
 chinery, but rational and self-acting spirits. 
 
 It matters not, I conceive, whether this freedom be 
 all that we may suppose it to be or not. It matters 
 not that we are often influenced by forces of whose 
 action we know nothing ; nor that, unknown to us, 
 God Himself may be working in us and with us. 
 Whatever may be back of our conscious life, in it we 
 
312 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 are sensible of acting upon motives, and being gov- 
 erned by truth, and of growing in intelligence, and of 
 making discoveries. This is part of man's personality; 
 and therefore if he is to develop, it must be after the 
 manner not of a machine, by having new parts added 
 to it externally, but by the exercise of his powers, so 
 that he grows from within outward, and transforms 
 what he receives into part of his very being. 
 
 Therefore, mark how God presents to us the truth. 
 No doubt, if He chose He might by His power make 
 us become quickly what we ought to be ; might take 
 away all our love of sin ; might at once create within 
 us clean hearts; and might cause to dawn upon our 
 minds at one vision the whole of truth. At least we 
 may imagine such a proceeding, though probably you 
 all feel that it would be so mechanical that it would not 
 really develop us. It would be the making of a new 
 race, not the uplifting of the old race. But whether 
 supposable or not, this is certainly not the way in 
 which God purifies and enlightens us. He uses truth. 
 He treats us as intelligent persons to be persuaded and 
 convinced. He has been at great pains to reveal to 
 us Himself and His will ; and that too, little by little, 
 line upon line, and precept upon precept, that we may 
 take it in. 
 
 He, therefore, presents to us Christ, and invites 
 our faith : gives us evidence to weigh and an ex- 
 ample to inspire. The Spirit uses the truth to 
 
GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 313 
 
 change our natures. No grown man can be converted 
 except through the apprehension of the truth. You 
 cannot change his life as you might change his coat, 
 by some magical process, unintelligible to himself. 
 The Spirit enlightens our minds in the knowledge of 
 Christ, and persuades and enables us to embrace Jesus 
 Christ freely offered to us in the Gospel. And so on 
 through the Christian life. We are to know the truth 
 that it may make us free. We are to strive to enlarge 
 our knowledge of it; to apprehend its meaning and 
 its proofs ; to grow into it by its growing into us. 
 This is the development, you see, of a spirit, not the 
 growth of an animal or the erection of a building ; 
 and, therefore, God presents to you His truth, that by 
 your personal apprehension of it, you — a free and 
 thinking soul — may develop in the directions which 
 the truth commands. 
 
 So, also, consider how God holds us accountable 
 for our conduct. Accountability implies intelligence 
 and freedom. It supposes that we are able to appre- 
 ciate a difference between right and wrong, between 
 truth and error. You would not reward or punish 
 an inanimate object or a mere soulless animal. Yet 
 man is to be rewarded or punished. Very clearly does 
 the Bible reveal this. Christ is to pass judgment upon 
 our lives. It will be a perfectly fair judgment. It 
 will take into consideration our advantages and the 
 amount of knowledge we have possessed. It will 
 
3 H FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 make no mistakes. It will not give praise to actions 
 which have proceeded from hypocritical motives, nor 
 blame to errors which have been ignorantly com- 
 mitted. We must not imagine that a single inflexible 
 standard will be made the measure by which all shall 
 be gauged, or that the judgment of God is a procrus- 
 tean bed into which all shall be fitted. 
 
 All these provisions for fair decision imply that 
 God treats us as intelligent and moral beings, upon 
 whom he throws responsibility, partly, at least, in 
 order that we may be developed. We all know 
 how earthly responsibilities develop men. They 
 either develop or crush them. If a man prove equal 
 to his position, he grows in power. The sense of its 
 worth calls out his energies. The foresight of its con- 
 sequences makes him rise to its requirements. The 
 responsibilities of life — from which, perhaps, in our 
 weaker moments, we would like to fly — are the means 
 of our personal culture, without which we should ever 
 remain like children in the nursery. So our responsi- 
 bility to God is meant to bring us out. It is the 
 recognition by Him of our spiritual natures, of our 
 likeness to Himself; and we may most confidently 
 affirm that nothing could take the place of responsi- 
 bility in leading man into a really noble life. 
 
 Nor should I fail to point out in this connection the 
 evident purpose of God's requiring of us all personal 
 work of some kind in this world. The necessity of 
 
GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 315 
 
 work is absolute for man. No one is exempt, al- 
 though the kind of work required differs greatly in 
 different cases. This is a working world. The com- 
 mand to work was not given after, but before, the fall. 
 In Eden itself our first parents were provided with 
 employment. So in the kingdom of Christ, work 
 is distributed to every servant. " To every man his 
 work," said the Lord Himself. Under this we are to 
 include our secular occupations. They are the posts 
 assigned to us by Providence, and are quite as truly 
 required of us as our more spiritual toil can be. Under 
 this are to be included home duties likewise. Then to 
 these are to be added spiritual work — work for Christ in 
 our own souls and in the world. Viewed thus largely 
 there is no exemption from the necessity of work. 
 We must not separate the different kinds of work, as 
 though God gave some and not others. They are all 
 alike our work, the duties laid on us in our various 
 relations. They are all, therefore, the means of train- 
 ing. And this is, perhaps, their chief object in God's 
 sight. 
 
 Certainly God could carry on His own universe 
 without our cooperation. He does not need laborers 
 in His vineyard. He could put His own money to 
 interest without entrusting it to the care of His ser- 
 vants. But then they would not be developed. For this, 
 too, is the means of bringing out our powers. If you 
 want to help a man, the best thing you can do for him 
 
316 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 is to give him work. Merely to put money into his 
 pocket is apt to do more harm than good, though it 
 is far easier. But work will help him more. It 
 will not merely support, but improve him. It will 
 make a man of him : and, if he be worth aiding at all, 
 he will be far more grateful for a situation than for a 
 gratuity. Hence you see God's object. It matters lit- 
 tle what the work be, so that we do it, and do it well. 
 We become co-workers with him. The labor of life is 
 not a curse but a blessing, if we engage in it with 
 right aims. It is meant to mature us ; to call out our 
 faculties; to develop our patience and our endurance; 
 and to test the spirit that is in us ; and from a working 
 life of some sort we should not desire to be relieved. 
 Finally, notice the light cast by this truth on 
 the troubles and sufferings which God permits to 
 befall us. That these are part of our training we are 
 expressly taught. They are not sent in anger; for 
 whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth 
 every son whom He receiveth. Nor are they mere 
 accidents of life, without purpose and uncontrolled ; 
 for though a man " fall, he shall not be utterly cast 
 down : for the Lord upholdeth him with His hand." 
 We should not, indeed, belittle God's purposes by 
 supposing that our individual benefit is the main object 
 in all the trials of life. On the contrary, His purposes 
 are vaster. He is dealing with many children at the 
 same time, and one event will often have a score of 
 
GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHI ID REN 317 
 
 purposes. But neither should we go to the other ex- 
 treme, and think that these trials have no individual 
 worth and meaning for us. That they have is proved 
 by what they may effect. For there is a strength won 
 from suffering superior, ofttimes, to any other. Our 
 falls and failures may make us wiser and stronger 
 than ever success could have done. Our losses and 
 bereavements may, by being humbly borne, produce 
 a spiritual vigor, a spirituality of mind, which never 
 would have bloomed under the constant sunshine of 
 prosperity. Many a man has had reason to say, with 
 David, " Before I was afflicted I went astray; but now 
 have I kept Thy word." 
 
 Purification by fire is oftentimes the only way of 
 separating gold from dross. The strength which 
 comes by resisting the temptation to rebel and 
 complain ; the faith which is exercised in darkness 
 and grief; the love which gleams through tears, 
 are developments of character the purest and best. 
 Of these the Master sufferer is the great example. 
 It is written of Him that though He were a Son, 
 yet learned He obedience by the things which He 
 suffered. He was perfected by suffering. Even He 
 needed this education : not, indeed, for the purpose 
 of purifying Him, for He was always pure, but for 
 the purpose of enabling Him to perform the work of 
 man's redemption. Thus even trial is part of our 
 education. It, too, is due to God's recognition of our 
 
318 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 spiritual natures. It is the mark of our sonship, for 
 by it God would fit us to share the life and glory of 
 His greater Son. 
 
 Such, then, are some of the signs of God's desire to 
 develop His children. There is not one of these facts 
 of life under which we do not sometimes repine. We 
 would even like to be relieved of our freedom, for 
 we shrink from its tremendous responsibilities. We 
 would like to be manufactured by magic into saints, 
 without the peril and labor of learning the truth and 
 following it. Fain would we escape work, and still 
 more gladly would we fly from trouble. But think 
 what these things mean. The eagle is teaching her 
 young to fly. They must acquire the use of wings. 
 They must be pushed out of the nest which overhangs 
 the precipice that, perforce, they may exercise their 
 powers. Otherwise they will never soar into the azure, 
 nor fly with the boldness which belongs to them into 
 the sun. So a father would teach his children to live. 
 He wants to make men and women of them. He 
 does not like to keep them forever in the nursery. 
 He wants to see them taking their places in the world, 
 exercising their faculties, becoming his own equals and 
 friends. And thus our God would do. 
 
 If it were a mere matter of power, God could make 
 a race of perfect souls at any time. But it is a matter 
 of love also, of joy in the growing life of His children 
 in their progress upward and toward Himself. Do 
 
GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHI ID REN 319 
 
 you say, you would rather be excused ? You do not 
 want to be educated ? You have no desire to rise ? 
 You can escape it if you will ; but if you do, you sink 
 away from life, and happiness, and peace. It is part of 
 your spiritual birthright to be trained : and though in 
 hours of weakness we may shrink from the process, 
 yet, surely, in a better moment we shall give thanks 
 that the unseen Teacher has us in hand, and that, by 
 His guidance, even we, weak and worthless as we may 
 be, shall grow into the glorious life of the children 
 of God. 
 
 And that we may not fear, I bid you note the other 
 fact in God's education of His children, which I sug- 
 gested, but which I can now only mention, without 
 expanding it as I should like to do. I mean His work 
 of protection. Quite beautifully does the figure of the 
 eagle teaching her young to fly illustrate this. "As an 
 eagle," said Moses, " stirreth up her nest " — there is 
 the compulsion to flight, the necessity of development. 
 And now follows the emblem of protection: " fluttereth 
 over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh 
 them, beareth them on her wings ; so the Lord alone 
 did lead him, and there was no strange god with him." 
 Here we have a picture of the parent bird first forc- 
 ing her young to fly; and then hovering about them 
 lest they fall, spreading her strong, broad wings beneath 
 them when they are weary : at once casting them on 
 themselves and upholding them lest they perish. 
 
320 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 You see how provision is made for our weakness. 
 If life were but a stern education, it would be hard 
 indeed. If God merely cast us forth to develop our 
 faculties by struggle and toil, we should no doubt 
 often go down into the dust. But in the exquisite 
 figure of the text both sides of His care are equally 
 presented. The father would have his son become 
 a strong, well developed, well educated man ; but he 
 does not, therefore, send him out into the world, 
 without sympathy or aid, to make his own way. 
 He is ever ready to protect and help, as may be 
 wise. Thus the highest result will be obtained, and 
 God's children may know that, while He would de- 
 velop them into a strong, mature, Godlike life, He is 
 always by their side lest they fall. 
 
 For God is always with us. Unseen, He sees ; un- 
 heard, He hears ; unfelt, He upholds. The sense of 
 this divine presence may of itself quicken our own 
 powers. Even the one who has wandered farthest 
 need not, like the prodigal, think of his father as away 
 in a distant home. That was true only in the story. 
 In fact the Father is always near. When we work, 
 He works in us, and the heart of the believer may 
 teem with new energy when mindful of the everlast- 
 ing arms that are underneath and round about him 
 at all times. 
 
 For God's presence means His watchfulness and 
 sympathy. He is not present as an unconscious 
 
GOD'S EDUCATION OF HIS CHILDREN 32 I 
 
 force or as a careless observer. He is not present 
 as nature is — who folds us in a cold embrace. He 
 is not present as men are, to criticize as much as to 
 help. He is present at every moment, and in every 
 place, in all the fullness of His personal love. " I am 
 poor and needy, yet the Lord thinketh upon me." 
 This effort to understand His truth, and to follow it, 
 He does not fail to see, and to encourage. This 
 brave acceptance of responsibility awakens at once His 
 sympathy, and leads Him to instill into feeble hearts 
 hearty strength. This obedient performance of duty, 
 this meek acceptance of sorrow, are all observed by 
 Him — and as our day is, so shall our strength be. 
 Yes, in this perilous affair of our spiritual growth — 
 exposed as we are to enemies, unused as we are to 
 such attempts, childish as our power and wisdom must 
 appear — He is protecting that our education may pro- 
 ceed. If He compel us to meet temptation, He will 
 not allow it to be greater than we can bear. If He 
 force us out of our quiet retreats into the stern, 
 hard, weary battle of life, He covers us with His 
 shield, and puts vigor into our arms and a sword 
 into our hands. If He send grievous sorrow, if 
 He lead through fierce mental conflicts, if pain 
 must be our lesson and the rod our instructor, 
 nevertheless, His protection fails not. Ah ! this is 
 true education. It combines protection with devel- 
 opment, and I take it that as the evident facts of 
 21 
 
322 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 freedom, and responsibility, and work, and suffering 
 prove that God would really develop our souls into 
 perfect fellowship with Himself; so the experience 
 of His people as plainly testifies that throughout the 
 whole process, however long, He is their shield, 
 their refuge, and their strength. 
 
 I pray you, therefore, to accept this great lesson of 
 life. What is more common than for people to put 
 themselves under the training of a master — be it in 
 art, or science, or trade ? Do we not need even more 
 sorely a master in the art of living ? Shall we not put 
 ourselves with confidence into the hand of the divine 
 Master, who knows all, and will lead us into the light? 
 We must needs be docile. We must believe in His 
 wisdom where we cannot understand. We must needs 
 be ready to receive new light, and progress from stage 
 to stage, from class to class. We must keep the eye 
 single, the soul pure and true. We must follow our 
 guide even when He leads us through dangerous pas- 
 sages — or, what is harder still — when in the dark we 
 see Him not and only hear His voice. 
 
 But if our acceptance of Him has been sincere, we 
 need not fear the issue. He will both protect and 
 develop us, until at last we shall mount upon wings 
 as eagles, shall enter on that perfect life for which 
 all here has been a preparation, and shall do the 
 works, and have the knowledge, and exercise the 
 powers of the glorified sons of God. 
 
XVIII 
 
 OUT OF THE DEPTHS 
 
 " Out of the depths have I cried unto Thee, O Lord." — Psalm cxxx. I. 
 What is more instinctively condemned or felt to 
 be more unworthy than a superficial life ? It is a life 
 which, as the word imports, is contented to float on 
 the surface of things. A superficial examination of a 
 subject is one which does not go to the foundations ; 
 which does not critically sift the matter in hand ; 
 which embraces in its survey merely the most obvious 
 facts which none can fail to see. Such an examination 
 is not worthy of the name. A superficial character is 
 one that is governed by hasty judgments and regard 
 for the nearest objects and most immediate interests ; 
 one that has not felt the force of permanent and radi- 
 cal principles, but is content to take its beliefs from 
 hearsay and to regulate its conduct by impulse or 
 unreasoning desire. And a superficial life is the out- 
 come of such a character. It either cannot or will 
 not face the real problems of existence. It does not 
 realize the profound sea of mystery over which it gaily 
 voyages, nor think of the illimitable heights that are 
 above it. It lives, so to speak, from hand to mouth. 
 It does not feel anything strongly. It is completely 
 
 323 
 
324 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 absorbed in the moving panorama which passes before 
 its eyes, and does not inquire concerning the hidden 
 ropes and pulleys which make it move. The play 
 and work of each day command its entire attention. 
 Even sorrow does not profoundly agitate it. It lives 
 its little span of life, in short, upon the surface of 
 things ; and, when its span is finished, it sinks into the 
 depths which, while living, it never cared seriously to 
 contemplate. 
 
 I say, we instinctively condemn such a life when it 
 is plainly presented to us. Yet we must be aware 
 that multitudes of men and women are living such 
 lives. The ease with which many are satisfied with' 
 the most superficial idea of moral character is shock- 
 ing. They take human applause for divine approval, 
 and think that if they be, according to the world's 
 standards, kind and friendly, — if they are guilty of no 
 overt crimes, — they need strive for nothing more. 
 The heedless diligence with which reasonable but un- 
 reasoning beings pursue the making of money as if it 
 were the supreme end of existence, and the god on 
 whose smile their happiness depends, must seem to 
 the spirits that look down upon us as a boy's earnest 
 sport seems to full-grown men. The recklessness 
 with which many make life a play cannot but appall 
 those who see the precipice on the edge of which the 
 play goes on. 
 
 It is not strange that such people forget or deny God. 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 325 
 
 They do not feci the need of Him. Within their little 
 circle He has no place, and the shallowest ideas of 
 morals and religion prevail. Sometimes this is a willful 
 choice of the temporal instead of the eternal. Some- 
 times it is due to mere feebleness of character, to inabil- 
 ity to do more than float with the current. In spite 
 of the centuries of religion, in spite of an uneasy con- 
 sciousness of wrong, in spite of the repeated spectacle 
 of death, in spite of the occasional glances which they 
 cannot but give downward and upward, experience 
 shows that it is only too possible for men and women 
 to content themselves with living on the surface, and 
 to refuse to grapple seriously with the hidden but ever 
 present realities of man's existence. 
 
 It is in the light of this that I would read with 
 you this verse of an ancient psalm. We have repre- 
 sented in it the exact opposite of a superficial life. 
 We see a man who in some way had sunk below the 
 surface, had seen and felt things which were not visible 
 on top, had faced the profound facts which the super- 
 ficial mind does not even perceive. There he had 
 found God. There he had felt the need of God. 
 There he had raised his prayer and had received an 
 answer to it. " Out of the depths," he says, " have I 
 cried unto Thee, O Lord." And from this deep ex- 
 perience he had emerged with a strength of faith and 
 a sense of the moral realities of life which he had never 
 had before. I would like to remind you of the depths 
 
326 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 which we may and often must fathom, and the oppor- 
 tunities they afford for our laying hold upon Him 
 who is the Light in our darkness and the Rock beneath 
 the shifting waves of time. 
 
 It docs not really require anything more than a 
 simple effort of thought to enable us to sink below 
 the surface and find ourselves in what may be truly 
 called " the depths." A superficial life, if it thinks 
 at all, knows itself to be superficial ; for the simplest 
 questions raised by the mind carry it into the realm 
 of profound things. We have only to ask ourselves 
 whence came we here, why are we here, whence came 
 the world about us, why does it exist at all, in order 
 to discover ourselves in the immediate presence of the 
 very mystery of life, and oppressed by the necessity 
 of going below the surface to find an explanation of it. 
 These questions no man can help asking. They are 
 not curious speculations. They are inevitably raised 
 by the facts of daily experience. Only by shutting 
 the mind's eye and deliberately remaining blind can 
 we prevent their being forced upon us. 
 
 Thus it is a natural thing to ask whence we came. 
 We cannot help assuming that everything in the 
 world has had a cause. We can see the beginnings 
 of most things, and we have never known anything to 
 come into existence of itself. We cannot conceive, 
 indeed, of such a thing. For ourselves, we know 
 that we began to be ; and, thus, the moment we begin 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 327 
 
 to think we find ourselves face to face with the neces- 
 sity of accounting for the orign of the world and of 
 ourselves as part of it. We are very sure, too, that 
 the cause, whatever it is, must have been competent 
 to produce the effect. We cannot suppose that a 
 plant is produced by the soil out of which it grows ; 
 for the plant is a living thing, while the soil is not. 
 So we cannot believe that the human mind has been 
 produced by a chance collection of particles of matter ; 
 for the mind thinks, and matter does not think. Thus 
 by a very few steps we go below the surface, and 
 realize that we and the world must be the product of 
 something or some person greater than we or it ; that 
 there must be some invisible Being back of the visible 
 panorama ; and that, in all probability, our relations to 
 this Being, who must be the Cause of all, are far more 
 important than are our relations to the visible people 
 and things which we meet upon the surface. 
 
 Then, if we go a little farther down, and ask our- 
 selves why we are, the mystery of life instantly grows 
 even more profound. For man feels himself to be 
 at once very little and very great. He is very little 
 in comparison with the immense universe — a mere 
 drop in the ocean of being — a mere atom in a meas- 
 ureless world of existence. He is physically very 
 weak. His present life hangs upon a mere thread. 
 He comes up like a flower and is cut down. In the 
 morning it flourishes and grows up ; in the evening 
 
328 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 it is cut down and withers. His life is as a vapor, 
 which appears for a little while, and then vanishes 
 away. Yet he is very great. He knows himself, 
 which is more than even the mighty world about him 
 does. He reasons. He can with his feeble hand 
 chain the lightning and defy the storm. He can 
 harness the forces of nature and drive them with his 
 childish hands. He can rise to the idea of God ; can 
 know and love Him ; and, despite his physical weak- 
 ness, can be unconquerable in soul. As Pascal said, 
 " He is a reed, the weakest thing in nature, but he is a 
 reed that thinks." Although in one view he is utterly 
 insignificant, in another view he is supremely great. 
 When we look at these facts, the question, Why are 
 we here? attains profound importance. A superficial 
 answer is at once felt to be false. If at one moment 
 we are inclined to say that it does not make much dif- 
 ference what we are or what we do ; at another 
 moment we feel that, with such power and capacities, 
 we must be working out a sublime programme ; must 
 be only making preparation here for a higher condi- 
 tion ; must be meant for some purpose commensurate 
 with the dignity of the soul. 
 
 Thus, you see, it requires but the slightest effort 
 of thought to lead us into the depths ; to make 
 a superficial life appear absurdly irrational ; to make 
 us realize that unless we seek to give some answer to 
 these primary questions which are forced upon the 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 329 
 
 mind, we are guilty of deliberate recklessness. I do 
 not know how often or how seriously these questions 
 have come home to you. Possibly they may seem to 
 you useless speculations, and you may have banished 
 them by turning to what you call the practical duties 
 of life. Possibly you may have taken shelter under the 
 convenient plea that we cannot know anything about 
 ulterior facts or immaterial causes; and may have 
 for a while complacently dismissed the matter from 
 your thought. But if so, you must, at least, confess 
 that you are living on the surface, and that the fathom- 
 less depths are under you. Beyond doubt your care- 
 lessness or your agnosticism can last only for a time. 
 Into the depths you must sink, if not now by thought, 
 hereafter by death ; and it surely is not becoming a 
 rational being to refuse to face the questions which 
 are thus forced upon his mind by the simplest action 
 of his reason. 
 
 These inquiries are of almost oppressive magnitude. 
 A man may dull his sense of them by absorption in 
 work or pleasure, but I do not understand how any- 
 body can fail to see that such dullness is the natural 
 result of a mental anaesthetic. A man may find serious 
 and real difficulties in the subject of religion ; but I do 
 not see how he can fail to find greater difficulties in 
 any life which does not seriously attack these funda- 
 mental questions. It also seems certain that in these 
 depths of mystery, into which the simplest thought 
 
33o Kirn i and life 
 
 takes us, the most reasonable thing is to call upon 
 God. Docs not He present that solution of the mys- 
 tery of human life which, taking it all in all, is the 
 most satisfactory to the mind itself? The agnostic says 
 there is no solution possible, and he says this because 
 not everything is clear and plain : somewhat as a child 
 who, because he cannot get all he wants, says he will 
 take nothing. The materialist says all is the blind re- 
 sult of physical force acting mechanically; and hence 
 he must conclude that the seeming greatness of man 
 is a delusion, and that as he came by chance into 
 existence, he will vanish after a while into dust. But 
 does not this answer raise more difficulties than ever, 
 and make larger demands on our credulity than ever 
 religion did ? We have about as much reason to 
 think that life and mind came out of matter as we 
 have to suppose that two and two ever made five. 
 
 On the other hand, the belief in God provides at 
 least a rational, thinkable explanation. It provides a 
 cause adequate to produce the effects with which we 
 are concerned. It supplies an origin for the mind of 
 man, which accounts for his powers and gives hopes 
 to his heart ; explaining both his littleness and his 
 greatness. I do not say that faith in God explains 
 everything to us. But is it not, to say the least, the 
 most probable explanation ? Docs it not throw more 
 light on life than any other theory? It is most reason- 
 able out of these depths to call upon him — nothing else 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 33 I 
 
 can satisfy. Nothing else can help us. The superficial 
 life which forgets God seems utterly false and futile 
 when a man begins to think about life. For when the 
 real, underlying problems arc felt, the supreme neces- 
 sity for Him is felt ; and in some way nearly every 
 man calls upon Him. 
 
 But for one man who sounds the depths of life by 
 an effort of thought, a dozen sound them through 
 the experience of sorrow and disappointment. Jesus 
 said : " Blessed are they that mourn : for they shall 
 be comforted." Whatever else the words may mean, 
 they imply at least that there is more blessedness 
 in being comforted than in not mourning at all. Yet, 
 certainly, He did not regard sorrow and trouble as 
 good in themselves. He came to relieve and end 
 them. He came to bring peace and rest to earth. 
 Nevertheless, He knew that, as men are, the deepest 
 lessons of life will not be learned except through a 
 more or less bitter experience, and that the sweetest 
 joys and the highest truths will come to humanity 
 only through the sad instructress, sorrow. 
 
 We know only too well that a happy, pros- 
 perous, successful life is apt to become super- 
 ficial. Let there be no disappointments to speak 
 of; let there be for many years no great bereave- 
 ment ; let there be no hard struggle for bread or for 
 pleasure; and man is apt to miss entirely the chief 
 ends of life's discipline. His course will " run glit- 
 
332 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 tering like a brook in the open sunshine," — bright, 
 but shallow ; pretty, but not deep. He is likely to 
 have but little sympathy ; for we must know somewhat 
 of the ills of life in order to help others through them. 
 He is likely even to become hard in his judgments, 
 skeptical in his opinions. Men talk of gratitude for 
 blessings as a stimulus to faith, but it may be doubted 
 whether trials and crosses do not furnish a greater 
 stimulus. The happy life is apt to be a careless one. 
 Supplies that come easily awaken no great sense of 
 gratitude. Were we to imagine all the sorrows ban- 
 ished from man's experience, all trials prevented, all 
 disappointments forestalled, and man left at the same 
 time in the same moral condition in which he now is, 
 we should see a world forgetful of spiritual things, 
 heedless of divine realities and moral responsibilities ; 
 a world of singing birds and gorgeous butterflies, 
 but not a world of either great thought or lofty 
 aspiration. 
 
 Freedom from sorrow is promised us in heaven 
 only on the assumption that there we shall be holy 
 enough not to need it. Tears shall there be wiped 
 from all faces because the moral necessity for tears 
 shall have been overcome. Happiness in external 
 things shall be attained because the internal conditions 
 of it have been first possessed. But as man now is, 
 it does not take much observation to see that entire 
 freedom from trouble would tend only to make him 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 333 
 
 satisfied with the superficial life of a well-fed body 
 and a cultivated mind. 
 
 So Providence does not permit us to live such 
 lives. Again and again are we compelled to go 
 down into the depths. The crust breaks. The 
 pleasant, easy life is rudely interrupted, and man 
 sinks, burdened by a weight of woe, into the abyss 
 below him. Then his views of life change. In the 
 bitterness of disappointment over the failure of his 
 dearest hopes he feels the vanity of the common pur- 
 suits which the world is so earnestly following. He 
 understands, if ever, that the real end of life cannot 
 consist in the enjoyment of earthly gains; he realizes 
 that if satisfaction is ever to be found, it must spring 
 from causes lying deeper far than the relationships 
 which this world provides. Keen sorrow enters his 
 home, and under the blight of loss his heart seems to 
 be swallowed up by grief. He wonders why tender 
 affection should be created to be thus rudely broken ; 
 why he should be made the apparent sport of misfor- 
 tune and calamity. These are depths which all have 
 to fathom. The experience comes in different forms, 
 but it comes to all. Oh, the depths of pain and an- 
 guish over which in prosperous days we glide ! Oh, 
 the terrible convulsions of grief, of which we are 
 capable, into which we may be plunged ; the deep, 
 dark passages of life which make a mockery of the 
 work and play which proceed on the upper surface ! 
 
334 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Blessed, indeed, is he who can wrest from these 
 grievous hours a divine lesson, so finding in them a 
 balm as well as a calamity, and good even amid the 
 evil. 
 
 This, at least, is clear — that in the depths of sor- 
 row men always feel the need of God, even if they 
 do not love Him or submit to Him. Sorrow, of 
 course, affects men differently, just as the same warm 
 sunlight falling on a plant with little root will wither 
 it, but falling on another plant, whose roots run deeply 
 into the rich soil beneath it, will cause it to flourish and 
 be beautiful with bloom. So some men are crushed 
 and hardened by their troubles ; others are sanctified 
 and blessed, according as the life is or is not strong 
 with faith and the desire for spiritual attainment. But 
 this is true of all — whatever the effects may be — that 
 in the depth of the dark, gloomy passages of life all 
 feel the need of God. The rebellious sufferer cries 
 out for God to set things right. The patient sufferer 
 no less feels his need of help, and looks for it to come. 
 But all feel the. same need. The impotence of man is 
 now manifest. The dependence of the human spirit 
 on something greater than itself or than the world is 
 plain. The vanity of the superficial life, with its lying 
 promises, its fading beauty, its broken pledges, its 
 mockery of strength, appears as a thin, unsubstantial 
 fact. The need of God becomes imperative. 
 
 See now what human life is, how utterly lost and 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 335 
 
 undone if there be no mighty Helper, no loving Father, 
 no pitying Christ. Down in the depths the suffering 
 soul instinctively reaches out its hands, even though 
 manacled by doubt — instinctively raises its voice, even 
 though bitter with rebellion — for God, for nothing less 
 than God, for God as the only One sufficient for the 
 awful needs of the lonely, failing heart. Such depths 
 are places of revelation. They show what even the 
 common superficial life needs, though it may not be 
 aware of it. They bid us know our real Helper, that 
 when we rise again to the common level we may not 
 forget the supreme lesson taught us by this glimpse, 
 through tears, into the tremendous realities of life. 
 Woe to that man who in prosperous times forgets the 
 lesson. If out of the depths you have called upon 
 God, then remember Him and honor Him when on 
 the mountain top and in the clear sunshine. You 
 need Him then just as much. Your sorrow was but 
 the means of showing you what common life should 
 always bear in mind, for He who appears as man's only 
 refuge and strength in times of trouble is not less his 
 lawful Lord, his profoundest need, at every moment 
 and in every circumstance of life. 
 
 While thought and sorrow thus let men down into 
 the depths of life, and show them their need of God, 
 yet neither of these appears to explain the particular 
 experience of the Psalmist when he cried, " Out of the 
 depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord." That which 
 
336 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 had broken through the crust of a superficial life in his 
 case was conviction of sin. This is plain from the fol- 
 lowing language of the Psalmist ; for he adds, " If 
 thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who 
 shall stand ? But there is forgiveness with Thee, that 
 Thou mayest be feared." His conscience had been 
 awakened. He had realized the enormity of sin. His 
 accuser had stood before him, charging him with 
 faults enough to condemn him forever. He had seen 
 that he was full of sin, burdened with guilt, in immi- 
 nent danger of punishment. He sank into the depths, 
 overwhelmed by fear, beholding the justice of God 
 and His power to inflict penalty, swallowed up in 
 despair and the conciousness of guilt. Now the pleas- 
 ant life of the eveiy day world seemed a mockery 
 indeed. It appeared to be the laughter of a criminal 
 awaiting execution, the blind and foolish play of men 
 hastening to death, the impious sport carried on under 
 the shadow of the overhanging sword. The soul had 
 awakened to a sense of what sin is — of what it means 
 to the sinner and to God — and in the depth of this 
 conviction it cried for the One who alone can forgive 
 and save. 
 
 This shows us a depth over which the super- 
 ficial life is always passing — which it often will not 
 believe in — but which when entered discloses more 
 vividly the moral reality of things than even thought 
 or sorrow does. How insensible men are to the real 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 337 
 
 significance of sin ! They admit that there is sin in 
 the world, for they cannot shut their eyes to the fact. 
 They admit that they are faulty ; for their failure to 
 fulfil all their human duty is so patent that the most 
 delusive theories and the most pleasant dreams cannot 
 altogether deceive them. But the superficial life does 
 not see the significance of sin. It treats sin as a venial 
 fault — some defect of blood or some disease — which has 
 even an attractive as well as a disagreeable side. For 
 the most part it quite condones it. It does not allow 
 it to cause discomfort. It does not allow sin to lessen 
 its enjoyment of nature, its delight in society, its ma- 
 terial pleasures, its pursuit of ambitious schemes. So 
 the shallow world hastens on in its selfish career, quite 
 unmindful of what the occasional stings of conscience 
 mean, what its uneasy dread of death forebodes. 
 
 But let the crust break, let the conscience awaken, 
 let the living soul, laden with its guilt, go down 
 into the depths of an aroused moral conviction. 
 What then does it behold ? It sees itself under 
 sentence by the Almighty ! Sin is transgression of 
 His law. It is hideous in itself and hateful in His 
 sight. It now is seen to have infected the whole life ; 
 to have shut God out of our thought, to have 
 alienated us from our true Master, exiled us from our 
 true home. It is seen to contain in itself the power 
 of endless death, to be a relentless tyrant inflicting the 
 
 penalty of eternal justice on the sinner, to be leading 
 22 
 
33S FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 its victims to the woes and the misery of hell itself. 
 What an awakening ! What a spectacle ! Yet it is 
 most real. It is a revelation of truth. It shows in 
 truest form the moral reality of things, and when a 
 man finds himself in the power of sin, knows that it 
 has seized and bewitched him, and beholds what God 
 must think of his condition, and how, of necessity, 
 He must condemn him, he has sounded the depths 
 indeed. 
 
 Then must he call upon God alone. Then he sees 
 that no one can save him but God. He feels as never 
 before his need of salvation. He asks only for for- 
 giveness. His sins roll over his memory like great 
 ocean billows. Every evil deed points its finger of 
 condemnation at him. Whither shall he flee but to 
 God himself? Blessed it is to hear in the depths of 
 an awakened conscience the voice of one who speaks 
 to men in such a state with the authority of God, and 
 says, "There is forgiveness with Thee, that Thou 
 mayest be feared." Ay, there is forgiveness ! It was 
 these sins for which God's Son offered sacrifice at 
 Calvary. It was these accusing voices which He pro- 
 posed to hush when the Redeemer cried, " Father for- 
 give them." The love of God gleams out in Jesus 
 Christ like the sun through the darkness, reaching 
 down even to the depths in which conviction plunges 
 a man ; and whispers in his ear, " Though your sins 
 be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow." Out of 
 
OUT OF THE DEPTHS 339 
 
 such an experience a man learns what God and Christ 
 are with a distinctness which no other instruction can 
 possibly impart. 
 
 I ask you if you have sounded the depths of life 
 in any of these ways ? Much of our lives must be 
 passed upon the surface, but I adjure you not to forget 
 the depths below and their revelations. Do not be 
 deceived by the temporal and the visible. In your 
 hearts you know that need of God which is disclosed 
 by the profound moments of thought and sorrow; 
 and conscience discovers the reality — that by which 
 you must live — that which you will have to face. Be 
 guided then by these discoveries. If in the depths 
 you have cried unto the Lord, then in every day life 
 make Him your God, your Master, your Saviour. I 
 plead for this, knowing that however for a while the 
 deceiving superficial life may continue, in the end you 
 must deal with the unseen realities. I plead for a real 
 faith, for true contrition and confession, for self dedi- 
 cation unto God. Will you not heed the pleading, 
 that ' when you sink into the depths you may find 
 God merciful, forgiving, faithful, and true, waiting to 
 sustain, to receive, to save you ? He is your need, 
 your supreme need. I beseech you, in Christ's name, 
 be ye reconciled to Him. 
 
XIX 
 
 MANY MANSIONS 
 
 " In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would 
 have told you. I go to prepare a place for you." — John xiv. 2. 
 
 The disciples of Jesus were utterly dazed by the 
 thought of His departure from them ; or, if they had 
 not yet realized that He was really going away, He 
 knew that they would be dazed when the event took 
 place. Separation from the Master seemed to them 
 the destruction of all that had made life worth living. 
 It left them exposed to the hatred of the world, with- 
 out the protection which Christ's power and personal 
 presence had always afforded. It left them to do a 
 work which even He, in their view, had not yet 
 succeeded in doing. It left them bewildered by the 
 apparent triumph of His enemies. It left them lonely 
 for the want of His dear companionship ; helpless for 
 the want of His never-failing power ; ignorant, fearful, 
 and doubting. So long as they knew Him to be with 
 them, they could safely and confidently go forward ; 
 but, separated from Him, they were likely to be lost 
 in a maze of doubt and fear. They could at least 
 appreciate the truth of what He said, " Apart from Me 
 ye can do nothing." We cannot better grasp the won- 
 
 341 
 
342 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 dcrful superiority of Jesus to His age and His fellow- 
 men than by considering the fact that even those who 
 were nearest to Him, and whom He had taught the 
 longest, felt themselves helpless when He left them. 
 
 These words which Jesus spoke to comfort and 
 encourage His disciples have become of supreme 
 worth and joy to all believers ever since. For we all 
 have to face substantially the same crisis in which 
 the first disciples found themselves. Humanity is 
 dazed and bewildered by the universal fact of death, 
 whether we think of it as threatening ourselves or 
 those we love. Men start on grand careers only to 
 find them leading to the inevitable prison-house. Men 
 enter upon sweet and ennobling relationships only to 
 find them rudely dissolved by the inexorable hand. 
 The best plans are thwarted by it ; the noblest lives 
 are overcome by it ; the most useful servants of God 
 and humanity are remorselessly and often, to our 
 mind, inopportunely cut down. Hence these disciples 
 of Jesus, cowering under the shadow of the coming 
 tragedy, were types of all mankind, and the words of 
 Christ to them are of equal value to us. He alone 
 saw beyond the shadow. He alone knew both worlds, 
 — the one beyond the veil and this. At no time did 
 He speak with more imperial dignity, — more obviously 
 with the knowledge of divinity itself, — than when He 
 forgot His own impending sorrow in commiseration of 
 theirs, and told them what, from His loftier position, 
 
MANY MANSIONS 343 
 
 He could see. As one standing on a mountain summit 
 may describe to the inhabitants of the valley below the 
 glorious landscape which he beholds, and in the wealth 
 and beauty of which both are to share, so did Jesus 
 speak to us these memorable words of comfort and 
 cheer. 
 
 Let me examine with you, then, these words of 
 Christ simply with the purpose of setting forth as 
 much as possible of what they contain. 
 
 In my Father's house, He said, are many man- 
 sions, or places of abode. He had just said: "Let 
 not your heart be troubled : ye believe in God, be- 
 lieve also in Me " ; and then He added this in order, 
 it would seem, to give His disciples a definite and 
 tangible object on which to fix their hope, without 
 which faith could not exist at all. It appears to me, 
 however, that these words have been often misunder- 
 stood. Evidently, the emphatic word in the sentence 
 is " many." But if so, and if, as on the common 
 view, the Father's house be understood to refer to 
 heaven alone, it is difficult to see the appropriateness 
 of the words to the disciples' needs. The fact that in 
 heaven there are many places of abode, many homes 
 for many people, many grades of glory for many 
 kinds of saints, is doubtless true. But how this could 
 comfort the disciples in view of Christ's departure 
 does not so easily appear. What would comfort them 
 would be the clear revelation of the other world itself 
 
344 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 and of Christ's continued relationship to them, though 
 gone into that other world; and this we may judge, 
 from all the connected verses, was the truth which 
 He sought to impress upon their minds. 
 
 It would seem, therefore, that by His Father's house 
 Jesus did not mean merely the future abode of the 
 blest. Give the phrase a larger meaning, and the force 
 of His comfort will be more plain. He had called the 
 temple, you remember, His Father's house, saying 
 to the tradesmen whom He drove from its sacred 
 precincts, " Make not My Father's house a house of 
 merchandise." What more natural, then, than for Him 
 to regard the whole universe itself, of which, in one 
 sense, the temple was a type, as His Father's house ? 
 Such, in fact, it is. God no more dwells merely in 
 the heaven of heavens than in temples made by hands. 
 The whole universe is filled with His presence, and 
 has been created by Him to be the place where His 
 children shall dwell in companionship with Himself. 
 Jesus, though despised and rejected of men, was at 
 home in the world with God. Did He not evince the 
 greatest familiarity with nature, gathering from her 
 processes His illustrations of divine things ? He had 
 no quarrel with nature or with matter. He had a quar- 
 rel only with sin. The universe was still His Father's 
 house. He implied as much when He told the 
 Samaritan woman that no place was more sacred 
 than another, but that in all alike the true worshiper 
 
MANY MANSIONS 345 
 
 would be accepted. Hence, in His intercourse with 
 His disciples, He had brought heaven down to earth, 
 and they had found in their relationship with Him 
 that which made life seem worthy of everlasting con- 
 tinuance. 
 
 Thus I understand that the Lord meant by His 
 " Father's house " the whole vast universe ; and if so, 
 the point of His comfort to the disciples becomes clear. 
 " In my Father's house, He said, are many mansions." 
 Do not suppose that this world is all, or that beyond 
 the veil, even the blessedness and joy of this world 
 will not be surpassed. You have found a home here. 
 You have found God here. You have here learned 
 that it is possible to dwell with God. But this is 
 only one mansion and there are many more. You 
 have entered only the first. There are myriads that 
 you have not seen. Do not, therefore, tremble if I 
 leave you. This world is not the whole of the stage 
 on which redemption is to be wrought out. Do not 
 think that death is dissolution to the soul, or that its 
 personal and spiritual relationship to God will be 
 affected by death. If such had been the case I would 
 certainly have told you, and my course of instruction 
 would have been very different. This world is but 
 one place of abode with God. There are innumerably 
 more, and only with these in thought can you realize 
 the worth and promise of a Christian life. 
 
 No doubt the false astronomy of that day made it 
 
346 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 somewhat more difficult for the disciples than for us to 
 grasp the scope of the Saviour's words. At any rate, 
 with our clearer knowledge of the physical universe 
 fresh force is given to His language. We know that 
 ours is but one of countless worlds, that the Father's 
 house contains mansions upon mansions, in tiers in- 
 numerable : and with every increase of power in the 
 lenses of our telescopes, the bounds of God's great 
 temple have been placed further off. It is quite possible 
 too that even within the space occupied by the visible 
 universe another exists, and that the veil of gross 
 matter hides from our knowledge a world into which 
 only the released spirit finds admission. We are in 
 a universe of mystery, into which both faith and science 
 peer with equal right and with equal profit, and while 
 neither faith nor science can claim to know more than 
 " but in part," both testify, in confirmation of Christ's 
 words, that our present abiding place is but the vesti- 
 bule of a world the vastness and the possibilities of 
 which are beyond our power to imagine. 
 
 Thus He who had come down from heaven and had 
 brought heaven with Him to the earth; He who re- 
 membered the glory which He had had with the 
 Father before the world was ; He who had manifested 
 God's glory on earth to the men who had been given 
 Him out of the world, — pointed His disciples to the 
 vast universe of being which they could not see, but 
 which He could see, and bade them believe that the 
 
MANY MANSIONS 347 
 
 happy life which they had begun with Him on earth 
 would reach beyond death and separation, and find its 
 increasing fruition in other realms, which will be but 
 other apartments in our heavenly Father's house. 
 
 I beg you to notice, before we pass on, what direction 
 these words of Christ give to our thoughts of both 
 life and death. On the one hand, He did not under- 
 value the life in this world. Men who think much 
 of the future are apt to undervalue the present. Some 
 fancy that the present is wholly evil and that no en- 
 joyment is to be properly found here. But Christ did 
 not so think or teach. He assured us that this world 
 is one of the mansions in our Father's house, and 
 that it is possible to enjoy here true pleasure and 
 real divine companionship. A little later He said : 
 " If a man love me, he will keep my words : and my 
 Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and 
 make our abode with him." So He said, " Abide in 
 me, and I in you." Thus earth may be a mansion of 
 God if we abide with Him and He with us. It is 
 what we make it. To the prodigal it is a far country, 
 because his heart is far from God. To the Christian 
 it is part of the Father's house, because he dwells 
 with God. In a supreme sense did Jesus abide with 
 God, and, therefore, in spite of all that He suffered, 
 He could still call it His Father's house. Thus by 
 faith we may enter heaven even here, and in our fellow- 
 ship with God enjoy the thought that we are part of 
 
348 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 His household, have a right to His provisions, and 
 are secure in His dwelling. It will make life happier 
 and more peaceful, it will give to the world a holier 
 beauty, if we live in it as in our Father's house. 
 
 Then, on the other hand, mark how Jesus thought 
 of death and the hereafter. He carried over into the 
 hidden world the natural instincts which have been 
 here sanctified in Christian life. Men thought of it 
 then, as often they do now, as cheerless and phantom- 
 like. He thought of it as not losing one jot of the 
 sweetness and joy of the present, but divested of every 
 trace of present sorrow and pain. It is still our 
 Father's house. There, too, are places of abode for 
 us. It will be as truly home as any place we have 
 ever known. It will realize all that we now hope 
 for. In it will culminate the best part of life, while 
 there will be no drawbacks. Death is but the pas- 
 sage from the lower to the higher mansion. By it we 
 lose nothing and gain much. It makes no rupture in 
 the life of the soul. The believer is still in his 
 Father's house, only taken to another apartment. All 
 that is now good will be made better ; and all that 
 is now evil will be removed, as through the heavy cur- 
 tains which divide this abode from those beyond it, the 
 disciple of Jesus goes. Not as pointing us from what 
 is bad to what is good ; but as pointing us from what 
 is good to what is better, from partial knowledge and 
 incipient holiness and the beginning of peace to com- 
 
MANY MANSIONS 349 
 
 pleteness of life and to fullness of blessing, did Jesus 
 stand on the verge of His own departure and bid us 
 have no fear, but rather have hope and eager confi- 
 dence. " In my Father's house are many mansions." 
 So far from this life exhausting good, it is but the com- 
 mencement and the foretaste of greater good to come. 
 
 Having thus assured His disciples of the exist- 
 ence of a better home above, the Saviour added, " I go 
 to prepare a place for you," and in these words the 
 comfort which His previous words had suggested is 
 more expressly given. Let us see if we can grasp 
 the full purport of the declaration. 
 
 It assured the disciples, for one thing, that their 
 departing Lord would not forget them. On the con- 
 trary, they would be as much in His thoughts as they 
 had been during the three years of His earthly com- 
 panionship with them. There would be no severance 
 of those precious relations of love and protection 
 which they had learned to value so highly. He 
 would be still the same, and the friendship of the past 
 would be continued in the invisible realm beyond. 
 How often to stricken hearts has this thought brought 
 comfort ! It is not possible that the human soul 
 should blot out the past, or that memory should cease 
 to act even amid the transcendent glories of the skies. 
 We may be sure that love will not be vanquished by 
 death; that it will only be purified, and will harmonize 
 more perfectly with the divine will. We may be sure 
 
350 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 that saints in glory arc waiting with eager hope for 
 the coming of their friends. Christ is so waiting; and 
 in His heavenly mansion His love is as tender, His 
 interest is as keen, His sympathy is as quick, as His 
 disciples found it to be on earth. He is " Jesus Christ, 
 the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever." 
 
 But His language not only assured the disciples of 
 His continued interest in them, but, going further, 
 assured them that His chief object in the other world 
 would be to work for them. Here His words soar 
 quite beyond anything that we can apply to ordinary 
 friends. They remind us of the constant activity of 
 Christ in behalf of His Church. Do not imagine that 
 His work was finished at Calvary, and that He has 
 since been merely waiting to enjoy the future triumph. 
 Only the sacrifice was there finished. When He 
 ascended it was to enter on a far more extended work 
 in behalf of His people. His earthly ministry was 
 merely the time in which He began to do and to 
 teach. Now He is, as Paul says, " Head over all 
 things to the Church." He is ruling and defending 
 us, restraining and conquering both His and our 
 enemies. 
 
 You remember how He is pictured in the Apoca- 
 lypse, seated on a white horse, with many crowns upon 
 His head, a two-edged sword issuing from His mouth, 
 going forth conquering and to conquer. This is a sym- 
 bolical picture of one phase of His activity. He has 
 
MANY MANSIONS 35 I 
 
 not left us to work out our salvation alone. On the 
 contrary, it is because He is working for us that we 
 succeed at all. A parent's toil supplies the wants and 
 provides for the education of his child, though the 
 little one is often quite unconscious of the fact, and is 
 busy with the performance of its daily tasks. So 
 Christ's activity, though by us unfelt, is the guarantee 
 of our life and progress. " Because I live, ye shall live 
 also." When He left His Church, it was only that 
 in another sphere He might enable the Church to 
 reach her glorious destiny. 
 
 Still more specifically, His words indicated not only 
 His continued interest in and work for His disciples, 
 but the particular object of His work. " I go," He 
 said, "to prepare a place for you." It is to the object 
 thus specified that our attention should be directed. 
 Our Lord, you remember, had been speaking of 
 places of abode. He had described the universe as 
 the Father's house. He had declared that there are 
 many mansions, literally many places of abode, of 
 which this world is but one. Now He was going 
 to prepare a place for them. All these phrases indi- 
 cate that the home of the blessed is to be a material 
 locality. Christ did not go to prepare a state for us 
 or a mode of being. That is prepared in us, not for 
 us. We cannot explain away His phraseology. 
 
 Nor should we desire to do so. We need a place 
 to live in, if life is to be worth anything. You know 
 
352 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 how much our happiness and our mental growth in 
 this world depend on our surroundings. When our 
 religion and our circumstances are in conflict, this 
 may indeed be a means of discipline; but this painful 
 experience can never be regarded as meant to con- 
 tinue always. On the other hand, however, God 
 has always provided a place for the development of 
 human character. He prepared this earth to be our 
 first abode, the place of our probation. Then He 
 selected portions of the earth to be the places in 
 which the life of humanity should unfold itself under 
 His guidance. Eden for Adam, Canaan for Abraham 
 and Israel. We need not have the least doubt, there- 
 fore, that the same rule will hold good after death. 
 The outward and the inward are to correspond, and 
 if in this life the soul is being prepared for its future 
 home, a future home is as really always being pre- 
 pared for the soul. 
 
 Furthermore, Christ's language would seem to 
 imply that until He left the world the home of the 
 saints had not been prepared. Did it ever occur to 
 you that the place whither the souls of Christ's people 
 now depart could not have existed, at least in its pres- 
 ent form, until after His ascension? If you ask, Where 
 then did the saints of old time go, — Abraham, Moses, 
 and the prophets, — we reply that no doubt they went 
 to a happy and holy place ; but that there must have 
 been a great and glad change for them when Jesus 
 
MANY MANSIONS 353 
 
 returned from His work of sacrifice, Victor and King. 
 For only then did He make the home of glory ready 
 as now it is. The Kingdom had indeed been prepared 
 from the foundation of the world; but the place had not. 
 Not that He created a new world. He prepared the 
 place, He made it ready. In fact, I suppose, He then 
 only began to make it ready, and that it is still being 
 gloriously prepared. We rightly sing, " He is fitting 
 up my mansion." The work of preparation continues 
 as the generations come and go, and will be finished 
 only when the work of man's salvation shall have 
 been brought to its conclusion at the end of the world. 
 
 How, then, are we to understand this work of 
 preparation which Christ is carrying on for His people 
 in the place above ? To what did He refer when He 
 used this language to those wondering disciples ? 
 
 For one thing, He went to prepare a place for us 
 by going and dwelling there Himself. Jesus Christ 
 is somewhere in the body ; and wherever He is, that 
 is the place whither His people are to go, that is the 
 home of the redeemed. Simply by dwelling there 
 Himself has He done most to prepare it for us. When 
 God said, " Let there be light," the work of the prepa- 
 ration of earth for man's abode was, to be sure, begun ; 
 but when He set the sun in the heavens a higher stage 
 of preparation began ; the sun is the great vitalizer of 
 the world, and of itself has made life here possible. 
 So when Christ ascended to the skies, His presence 
 
 23 
 
354 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 prepared a place for us. Near Him naught but 
 beauty and holiness can be ; and if the physical sun 
 has made the beauty and fruitfulness of this fair world, 
 what must be the glory of that place where there is 
 no need of the sun to shine in it, for the glory of God 
 doth lighten it and the Lamb is the light thereof! 
 You have known houses, perhaps, that have been 
 homes because of the presence in them of one beau- 
 tiful, lovely character which has shed a moral beauty 
 and attractiveness over the entire place, — its glory in 
 life, its brightest memory in death. Similarly it is 
 from Christ that the influence goes out which prepares 
 a place for us. 
 
 Then, further, He went to prepare a place for us by 
 going there as our representative. He is the Captain 
 of our salvation, the first-fruits of them that slept. 
 He went as our victorious Redeemer, our accepted 
 Sacrifice, our crowned King. We should have no 
 right to stand in the presence of the Almighty if Christ 
 were not there as our Head. He prepares room for 
 us among the angels, room near the throne of God. 
 What are we, — sinful and frail, — that we should ex- 
 pect to take our places among the unfallen hosts ? 
 We should not dare to hope for it if we did not know 
 that by His presented sacrifice and by His glorious 
 victory He has prepared a place for us. 
 
 Still further, we may no doubt properly suppose 
 that He went to prepare a place which shall be 
 
MANY MANSIONS 355 
 
 adapted in the highest degree to our needs. Of 
 course, we do not know in what that adaptation shall 
 consist. We do not often know beforehand what cir- 
 cumstances, even in this world, will be best adapted 
 to us. We have to trust God to lead us to the places 
 which are best for us ; and, wherever He puts us, there 
 we must do the work demanded, believing that the 
 place is best. So we cannot say beforehand what the 
 character of the place shall be where the perfect life of 
 the future is to be passed. Yet we are sure that it 
 will be adapted to our needs. God has adapted this 
 world so wondrously to us that we cannot doubt 
 that the future will be adjusted also. It will be a 
 place of work, and at the same time of rest. It will be 
 a place of growth, and at the same time of moral 
 perfection. It will be a place of social relationships, 
 and yet also of the highest individuality. So we 
 might speculate. But speculation is useless. It is 
 enough to know that a place shall be prepared for us, 
 and, therefore, perfectly adjusted to every need. 
 
 Finally, I feel confident that, as already intimated, 
 we may extend the reach of these words on unto 
 the end of the present dispensation, and include in 
 them all that Christ is doing as King of the universe, 
 as Heir of the future, to subdue all things unto Him- 
 self and so unto His people. There are clear intima- 
 tions in Scripture of physical changes by which nature 
 herself will be tuned into sympathy with the song of 
 
356 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 the glorified, and made to quiver, as she does not 
 now, with the harmonies of redemption. We read : 
 " The whole creation groaneth, and travaileth in pain 
 together until now. And not only they, but ourselves 
 also, which have the first-fruits of the Spirit, even we 
 ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adop- 
 tion, to wit, the redemption of our body." We read : 
 " We, according to His promise, look for a new 
 heaven and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteous- 
 ness." We read : " We know that if our earthly 
 house of this tabernacle be dissolved, we have a build- 
 ing of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in 
 the heavens." We are distinctly told that the dead 
 are to be raised again and clothed with celestial 
 bodies. Christ, therefore, is bringing about a changed 
 universe, even as He is securing a changed race; 
 and at the end it will appear that if we are prepared 
 for a new world we shall find a new world prepared 
 for us. Ah, what a sweep and what a sweetness there 
 was in this assurance which He gave His disciples, 
 " I go to prepare a place for you ! " We may take the 
 words to ourselves. They were not meant for apostles 
 alone, but for all disciples ; and while we gaze, dimly 
 and tearfully, into the shadow of the grave, how wel- 
 come the strong accents of the great Sufferer : " I go 
 to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare 
 a place for you, I will come again, and receive you 
 unto Myself; that where I am, there ye may be also." 
 
MANY MANSIONS 357 
 
 So now, dear friends, let these words of Christ dwell 
 richly in your hearts, comforting and inspiring you. 
 Look beyond the narrow horizon of this world and 
 believe that all the vast domain is still your Father's 
 house, and that the soul that is reconciled to God can- 
 not lose its way, can never perish, will always have its 
 home. Believe in God, believe in Jesus Christ, and by 
 your faith look death and separation in the face. It is 
 but transition to another mansion in the same Father's 
 house. You will find it so. Others have found it so. 
 Christ declared it was so. Let us journey on, doing 
 with our might what we find to do, thanking God for 
 the beauty of this world, and for the salvation which 
 He has sent us. Let us make that salvation ours, — 
 and whenever our dear ones are called away, and, 
 above all, when we ourselves receive the final call, let 
 us think of these words of the Master, and be com- 
 forted and be strong. " O death, where is thy sting ? 
 O grave, where is thy victory ? . . . Thanks be to 
 God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord 
 Jesus Christ." 
 
XX 
 
 THE JUDGMENT 
 
 " And the heavens shall declare His righteousness: for God is judge 
 Himself." — Psalm 1. 6. 
 
 The conviction that we are to be judged for the 
 lives we spend on earth is so deeply impressed upon 
 the human mind that it can hardly be a delusion. It 
 is found, under various forms, in all religions. Now 
 it is conceived as a formal sentence pronounced from 
 a divine tribunal; now, as the result of laws which, 
 by a natural process, distribute after death reward or 
 punishment. But no religion is without the idea ; 
 and, indeed, we can hardly conceive of a religion, — if 
 it be more than the feeblest sentiment, — existing with- 
 out teaching that human lives are to be fairly and ex- 
 actly judged. 
 
 Probably this conviction is to be attributed to a 
 variety of causes. It springs partly from the sense 
 of responsibility which lies as a primary truth in the 
 conscience of man. It springs partly also from the 
 difference felt to exist between right and wrong; 
 which, likewise, the human conscience proclaims, and 
 which implies that a good life deserves reward, while a 
 bad life deserves punishment. Another cause of this 
 
 359 
 
360 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 belief may be found in the observation that in this 
 world justice is not perfectly meted out, so that the 
 awards which conscience asserts ought to be given 
 would not be given unless a further judgment follow 
 after death. There is also the feeling that if there be a 
 God, He must be a Governor of the world. He would 
 otherwise scarcely fulfil His name or office. He 
 would be an idea without life if He did not now watch, 
 and hereafter judge, the lives of His creatures. To 
 this may be added the fact that even on earth there 
 is an evident tendency of virtue to bless and of vice 
 to curse; and while, on the one hand, the imperfect 
 operation of this tendency calls for an adjustment of 
 men's deserts after death, so, on the other, the ten- 
 dency itself is an earnest and a prediction of such an 
 adjustment to come. 
 
 By the union of these instincts and observations 
 and evident facts, the conviction of a judgment to 
 come has fastened itself immovably in the human 
 mind. Only a skepticism which would destroy all 
 religion can set at naught so universal a belief; and 
 even those men who hold as little as possible of re- 
 ligion, and who entirely reject a revelation, seldom 
 venture formally to deny a future judgment. 
 
 This belief, moreover, is as exalting and inspiring as 
 it is solemnizing. Instead of nature being like a hard, 
 thick wall in which we are enclosed, it is made to 
 appear like a globe of transparent glass through which 
 
THE JUDGMENT 36 1 
 
 the infinite Father looks in upon our lives. Instead of 
 supposing that among the multitude of beings in which 
 we occupy so small a place we shall be unobserved, 
 we are assured that not one of us escapes the divine 
 notice. This gives dignity to life. 
 
 " A crowd of witnesses around 
 Hold us in full survey." 
 
 Above all, the sleepless eye of the great God be- 
 holds us. Life is no obscure, worthless thing. It 
 is being observed, estimated, and judged, and at the 
 end its worth will be declared. While such a truth 
 may fill us with shame in our hours of sin and weak- 
 ness, it is no less the ally and support of all the nobler 
 efforts that we make. 
 
 Then the Bible confirms this belief in a divine 
 judgment, and clarifies our conception of it. To 
 it God is an ever-present reality. The darkness 
 and the light are both alike to Him; and there is 
 not a word on our lips but He knows it altogether. 
 He, therefore, is "the Judge of all the earth." In 
 the Old Testament we read of many historical judg- 
 ments which in this world He has pronounced against 
 nations and individuals; and in the New Testament we 
 are told of the period when these shall culminate in a 
 general judgment of all flesh. Men shall give account 
 to Him for the deeds done in the body. Their lives 
 shall be estimated according to the light they have 
 
362 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 had. Each man shall give account of himself to God, 
 and the result shall be to exhibit, in the sight of all 
 the universe, the righteousness, and wisdom, and 
 goodness, — in short, the glory, — of the Lord. 
 
 This is the idea conveyed by the opening verses of 
 the Psalm from which the text is taken. They mag- 
 nificently describe the coming of God to judgment, and 
 the solemnity of the scene is reflected in the majesty 
 of the verse. " The mighty God . . . hath spoken, 
 and called the earth from the rising of the sun unto 
 the going down thereof." So the Psalm opens. He is 
 the Lord worshiped by the Church, for it is out of 
 Zion that God has shined. He is coming to utter His 
 decisions. The fire of judgment plays about His 
 throne. He will summon heaven and earth to hear. 
 He will vindicate the faith of those who have believed 
 His word. He will fulfil His covenant with them. 
 He will reprove and condemn the rebellious and " the 
 heavens shall declare His righteousness," the universe 
 shall approve His decisions, for " God is judge Himself." 
 No other, and none less, shall pass the sentence. It 
 is His prerogative, — as He alone has the ability, — to 
 judge the earth. The infinite Being who called the 
 world into existence, and who is infinite, eternal, and 
 unchangeable in His being and perfections, He shall 
 estimate the worth, and assign the awards, to every 
 human life. 
 
 We have here, then, presented the character of God 
 
THE JUDGMENT 363 
 
 as certifying to the rightfulness and the righteousness 
 of the judgment to be passed on our lives. And I 
 would remark, at the outset, that since " God is judge 
 Himself," such judgment is a rightful thing. It ought 
 to be. God has a right to judge us. Did another 
 assume to do so, we might reasonably protest. But 
 God is judge Himself, and before His tribunal we are 
 bound to bow. 
 
 It is not hard, indeed, to imagine men protesting 
 against the whole situation. By what right are we 
 to be thus interrogated ? We repel the assumption 
 which other men sometimes make of a right to judge 
 our private affairs ; and if we do not injure our fellows, 
 and do not violate public law, why should our 
 thoughts and feelings, our private use of our own 
 possessions, be investigated ? The question is not an 
 altogether unreasonable one. These are, indeed, like 
 the poor foolish words of a school-boy who rebels 
 against the authority which he cannot escape. When 
 in sober moments men reflect upon the greatness of 
 God, their wish for independence of Him seems vain 
 indeed. Yet, if God merely overcame us by His 
 superior power, we might protest though we were 
 forced to yield. The question is one of right, not of 
 power. By what right shall we be made to stand 
 before His bar ? We are told that our own consciences 
 will themselves approve His judgment, and yet men 
 sometimes persuade themselves that conscience says 
 
364 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 they ought to be independent. How, then, may God 
 demand that all the dead, — small and great, learned 
 and ignorant, Christian and pagan, man and child, of 
 all ages and climes, — shall give account of themselves 
 to Him? By what right will He demand this of you 
 and me ? 
 
 We reply, that He has the right to judge, simply 
 because He is our Creator. Men often talk as if 
 they had made themselves and were the authors of 
 their own lives. One would think, from their pro- 
 tests against God's government, that they had come 
 under it by a sort of " social compact ;" as if they were 
 independent beings who had generously consented to 
 be subject to the divine authority. God seems to be 
 to them little more than an elected monarch, and they 
 would limit His rights and prerogatives until He had 
 left no more authority than an English sovereign. 
 But what are the facts ? It is He that hath made 
 us, and not we ourselves. He is the absolute and 
 free Creator of the world and all that is therein. But 
 for His will we would not have been at all. He called 
 nature into being; He made and gave us our minds. 
 As truly as the potter makes the earthen jar, has 
 God made us. Yea, He has made not only the form, 
 but the material itself. We need not discuss the 
 method of creation. We may admit all you choose of 
 second causes and slow developments. Still, the 
 power before and behind all is God's will. He created 
 
THE JUDGMENT 365 
 
 matter; He created mind; and over the evolution of 
 matter, and over the development of mind, He has 
 presided. He was under no compulsion to create, 
 though, doubtless, He found pleasure in so doing. 
 He is, in the most absolute sense, the author of 
 all beings. Creatorship, and especially such an abso- 
 lute creatorship as this, carries with it ownership, 
 — the Creator's right of property in the creature of 
 His hand. 
 
 You can partially illustrate this by the similar 
 right of property as it exists among men. A man 
 may, in a limited sense, make his own fortune, and 
 when made, it is his. He can use it as he sees 
 fit. He can hoard, or he can waste. Or, to take 
 an illustration more in point, a man may make, 
 in a certain sense, a business for himself. By his 
 industry, by his ability, he may build it up. It 
 is his, and he is the absolute director of its affairs. 
 Has he not then the right to examine and inquire into 
 the work done by his employees ? Are they not 
 working for him ? Does not their time and strength, 
 so far as they are employed, belong to him ? Shall 
 they protest against his inquiry into and watchful- 
 ness over his own business ? Does not the same 
 principle apply far more cogently to God ? Because 
 He has made us, we are His. The earth is the 
 Lord's, and the fullness thereof, all that it produces, 
 all that has in the flight of years come out of it, — and 
 
366 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 why ? Because He has founded it upon the seas and 
 established it upon the flood. As the employer ques- 
 tions his servant, as the father questions his child, as an 
 owner has a right to inquire about and to rule in the 
 management of his own possessions, so may we say 
 that God, — the free, the real author and owner of 
 human life, — has a right to watch, investigate, judge, 
 and deal with the creatures He has made. 
 
 You will say, perhaps, True, if we were mere inani- 
 mate things : but we are moral beings ; and while God 
 has, indeed, created us, we have, when once created, 
 our rights and liberties no less truly than He has His 
 rights and powers. You will say, perhaps, that while 
 a father has the right to question and direct his child, 
 this is only so long as the latter is a child; when he 
 becomes of age he asserts his own independence. 
 Why does not the same independence belong to man 
 in his relation to his Father in the heavens ? 
 
 But you must not press one side of the divine char- 
 acter so far as to obscure the rest. God is our Father, 
 but He is also our Creator, and our King, and our 
 Master. His paternity is not so much after our 
 modern idea as like that of the old Roman theory. 
 The Roman father owned his child as though it 
 were a chattel till the day of his own death. He had 
 even the power of life and death over it. He was 
 absolute master and judge in his whole household. 
 This is more like God's position. For while He has 
 
THE JUDGMENT 367 
 
 all love and tenderness, which the Roman often lacked, 
 He has all the authority which the Roman claimed. 
 I admit, indeed, that our moral natures may give us 
 some rights and liberties even as regards God. We 
 may have the right to fair trial. We may have the 
 right to just treatment. We may have the liberty, if 
 we choose, of rebellion : but the right of rebellion we 
 have not. God, I say, has made us ; He owns us ; 
 and, therefore, He is our lawful Ruler and lawful 
 Judge. Before Him we are bound to bow. Con- 
 science and reason, as well as religion, uphold His 
 august tribunal. As creatures, we must give our 
 account to Him. He has the right to make inqui- 
 sition as to what we are, to examine how we have 
 lived, to deal out to us what we know that we deserve. 
 We maintain, therefore, the rightfulness of God's 
 judgment because God is the Creator and Lord of 
 the world. " God is judge Himself." We would 
 repudiate many a judgment of man. If God were 
 a mere unconscious force, it, too, would have no 
 such right, even as it could not exercise it. But 
 by all our conviction of a personal, free author of 
 the world, may we be sure that the judgment which 
 conscience leads us to expect, and which revela- 
 tion so clearly teaches, is right and proper : and 
 against such right, united with such power, how vain 
 must be man's anger and rebellion ! What are they 
 like, but the dashing of waves against everlasting 
 
368 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 rock, which only break themselves, and fall into the 
 sea again ? 
 
 But more important to us than the rightfulness is the 
 righteousness of this divine judgment. It may comfort 
 us to know that the trial which we cannot escape is a 
 lawful one ; but it will add to our comfort to know 
 that it will be just and fair. And this is certified by 
 our text again. " The heavens shall declare his right- 
 eousness : for God is judge Himself." He committed 
 it to no angel, nor mere man ; for they would not be 
 qualified for the work. Only God Himself can be a 
 righteous judge of human lives. 
 
 And this because He, and He alone, is omniscient. 
 Of course, we cannot comprehend omniscience, and, 
 therefore, we fail to realize God's exact knowledge of 
 all that exists or occurs. We can only make ap- 
 proaches to such a conception, and by the aid of 
 analogies realize, at least, how incomprehensible omnis- 
 cience is, and yet what some of its consequences are. 
 We can only use figures which represent, though they 
 do not picture, this unknown quantity. 
 
 Perhaps we may partly realize the meaning of 
 omniscience by means of its equal mystery, omni- 
 presence. God knows everything because God is al- 
 ways everywhere. He is as truly and as fully present 
 at the farthest verge of creation as at its centre in the 
 heavens. It is not that He can, with piercing eye, sec 
 all that happens at any distance, but that there is no 
 
THE JUDGMENT 369 
 
 such thing as distance from Him. It is not that He is 
 Lord of innumerable agents, who with lightning speed 
 report events before His throne, but that the whole 
 universe lies before Him as distinctly as the field of 
 vision under the strongest microscope does to the 
 student's eye. It is not that, like the mind in the 
 body, He is in nervous, vital connection with the 
 whole vast frame of creation, but that in eveiy mem- 
 ber thereof the divine mind is actually resident. 
 Whatever lives and moves and has being does so in 
 Him, in His immediate presence, because of His sup- 
 porting power; and it costs my eye more effort to 
 glance at yonder page than it costs the infinite One 
 to observe at all times, every movement, of matter or 
 of mind, that occurs in all the universe. There are 
 forces of nature which seem to us almost omni- 
 present. It needs but about eight minutes for the 
 light to flash over the ninety-three millions of miles 
 which separate us from the sun. Yet light and elec- 
 tricity are but ministers of His that do His pleasure. 
 They speed across space; while He is at the same 
 moment in all space, — in sun, and stars, and world. 
 
 " The Lord our God is Lord of all ; 
 His station who can find ? 
 I hear him in the waterfall, 
 
 I hear him in the wind. 
 If in the gloom of night I shroud, 
 
 His face I cannot fly ; 
 I see him in the evening cloud 
 And in the morning sky." 
 24 
 
370 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 Thus may we picture God's omnipresence, and by- 
 it, His omniscience. He knows you and me thor- 
 oughly, has known us from the first dawn of our con- 
 sciousness ; and not only us, but as exactly, all these 
 multitudes of our fellow citizens, yea, not them more 
 than all our fellow-men. He has searched us and 
 known us. He knows our down-sitting and our up- 
 rising. He understands our thoughts afar off. Such 
 knowledge is too wonderful for us, but not for Him. 
 If I say, the darkness shall cover me, surely the 
 night shall be light about me. The darkness and 
 the light are both alike to Him. Thus, you see, the 
 foundation for a righteous judgment is laid in per- 
 fect knowledge of all that we have been and have 
 done. There can be no mistakes. There can be 
 no evidence omitted. God's judgment must be in- 
 fallible, because He knows us altogether. 
 
 Then you must add to this exact knowledge of us 
 individually, the knowledge of the part which each of 
 us was designed to occupy in the world. You may 
 know with great precision the facts of a man's life, and 
 yet you may wholly misjudge him because you do 
 not measure him by the right standard ; you do not 
 estimate him by his circumstances, or by the place he 
 was meant to fill. But let us not suppose that because 
 God is in every place, He does not grasp in one view 
 the whole creation. He made it all. He knows what 
 it is to produce. He knows the part which each ele- 
 
THE JUD GMENT 3 7 I 
 
 mcnt plays in the work of the whole; and He judges 
 it by that assigned role. I say this knowledge of the 
 whole world is as necessary to a just judgment as the 
 knowledge of each part. Otherwise there might be as 
 false an estimate as if you were to say that a pound of 
 lead and a pound of gold are of the same value. Do 
 they not both weigh a pound ? Truly : but not their 
 weight but the part which each plays in human society 
 determines their value. So it is conceivable that men 
 might be alike in all ordinary respects, while their 
 places in the world would cause the judgment in one 
 case to differ from that in the other. Well, then, may 
 we rejoice that " God is judge Himself." No angel 
 could pronounce sentence ; none but He who is in- 
 finite in knowledge could insure to men, in view of the 
 multitudinous facts and realities of life, righteous judg- 
 ment. 
 
 Now, in one view, the righteousness of God is an 
 appalling fact, and were men to be saved or lost 
 according to the estimate of mere justice upon their 
 lives, sad indeed would be their lot. If you choose to 
 take your stand at the bar without the plea which 
 Christ, the great Advocate, will enter in your behalf, 
 your condemnation is certain. But to the believer in 
 Jesus, the righteousness of God is full of promise; 
 and when we consider it in all its meaning, we rejoice 
 in appearing before Him rather than before any other. 
 The Scriptures do not fail to bring out its encour- 
 
372 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 aging side. His judgment is to be, we are told, ac- 
 cording to the light men have had. Men's circum- 
 stances will determine their responsibility. The knowl- 
 edge of truth they have possessed, the surroundings 
 in which they have been reared, the character of the 
 temptations to which they have been exposed, and the 
 causes which give these their power, — such are some 
 of the determining elements, we may suppose, of this 
 judgment; and you can easily imagine how, on such 
 principles, it will often reverse the judgments which 
 men pass upon each other. Then, too, God's judg- 
 ment will be as kind as is consistent with righteous- 
 ness. Every earnest soul has the divine sympathy, 
 and God watches and appreciates every effort to do 
 right, even though it may seem to fail. " He knoweth 
 our frame ; He remembereth that we are dust." 
 
 This is further certified by the revealed fact that 
 Christ, — the God-man, — is to be our judge. He 
 unites all that we have said of omniscience with all that 
 we can desire of sympathy. He has Himself known 
 human life. He has been tempted as we are : and, there- 
 fore, when Christ shall gather before His bar the na- 
 tions of earth, the consciences of men will unite with 
 the heavens in declaring His righteousness. Not only 
 will God Himself be judge, but God in man will 
 be judge; and what there may be of God in other 
 men will approve and applaud His sentence. Yes, 
 righteousness and judgment are the habitations of His 
 
THE JUDGMENT 373 
 
 throne. The sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre in 
 His hand. Not only is it right that He should call us 
 to account ; but most fair, most impartial, most com- 
 prehensive, will the decision be. Every mouth will be 
 stopped ; no complaint will be possible. No wrong, 
 not even the slightest, will be done. Not an element 
 that may help to solve the problem will have been for- 
 gotten. God is the judge Himself, and that fact as- 
 sures the perfect righteousness of His summing up of 
 every human life. 
 
 It would seem clearly to follow from all this that 
 the divine judgment is to be final. So it is com- 
 monly and instinctively conceived by men, both in 
 and out of Christendom ; and, from what we have said, 
 it is evident why it must be final. There can be no 
 reason for an appeal from God's decision. There is no 
 court to which such an appeal could be taken. God is 
 now the judge Himself, and, if so, we are at the end 
 of things. The balances are being struck. The 
 period of probation is over. The results have been 
 attained, and thenceforward the consequences unalter- 
 ably follow. 
 
 The question has been raised, it is true, as to the 
 limits of man's probation. It has of late been fre- 
 quently maintained that most people have not in this 
 world a fair chance. Multitudes die in ignorance of the 
 gospel. In Christendom itself multitudes live in such 
 circumstances that the faith and morality of Chris- 
 
374 FAITH AXD LIFE 
 
 tians cannot be expected of them. The difference be- 
 tween the advantages of some and the disadvantages 
 of others, it is said, is so marked that it would be un- 
 reasonable to suppose probation to be limited to this 
 life. Hence it is argued that another chance — or per- 
 haps it would be best to say a fair chance — must be 
 given in the next world. Not a few, indeed, would 
 deny any limit to probation, and maintain that when- 
 ever men shall repent and turn to God, though it be 
 in hell itself, He will, He must, receive them. 
 
 The view of Scripture truth which we have presented 
 would, however, certainly refute these delusive hopes. 
 It is as clear as day that if the Scriptures mean any- 
 thing at all, they mean that probation has a definite, 
 fixed limit. " He hath appointed a day in the which 
 He will judge the world in righteousness by that 
 man whom He hath ordained." God is very patient. 
 He has put the day of decision a long way off, that 
 by His forbearance He may lead men to repent- 
 ance. But that appointed day will come. Then God 
 will be judge Himself, and the majesty of that tri- 
 bunal is such as to preclude any after it. It must be 
 the final summing up. It is the Supreme Court. 
 From it there can be no appeal. Not only are we 
 clearly taught this general fact, but we are taught just 
 as clearly the correlated fact that the probation of each 
 man does end with this life. It is human life, here in 
 the flesh, whose worth is to be passed upon. Man 
 
THE JUD GMENT 375 
 
 shall give account to Him for the deeds done in the 
 body. On these will turn the sentence. 
 
 How, then, you say, about the inequalities between 
 men ? How can all be said to have had here a fair 
 chance, when one dies at fifteen and another at sev- 
 enty; when one is reared in ignorance and another in 
 the light of a Christian home? Surely, what has 
 been said about the righteousness of God and His 
 omniscience will remove such a difficulty ! God will 
 take into consideration every circumstance. Not sel- 
 dom will those, I conceive, who seem to us to have 
 had the fewest advantages, be better off than those 
 who have had more. It would have been better 
 for many men to have died in their boyhood, since 
 they were nearer to the kingdom at twenty than ever 
 after. " The publicans and harlots," said Jesus to the 
 Pharisees, " enter the kingdom before you." 
 
 There is in all men some light. All hear the voice 
 of conscience. It may be a misguided conscience, but 
 yet it is enough to reveal the moral choice of the indi- 
 vidual's life. It is not necessary that men should know 
 the whole truth in order to ascertain their love of truth. 
 It is not necessary that men should know perfect 
 goodness in order to ascertain their wish for or against 
 it. The flower and fruits of character alike lie in the 
 germ ; and He who, as we have seen, is able perfectly 
 to estimate the worth of every life, will win the appro- 
 bation of the universe in His estimate of the humblest 
 
376 FAITH AND LIFE 
 
 and obscurest not less than of the highest and best. 
 "God is judge Himself," and therefore judgment is 
 final. It could not be improved upon. No more wis- 
 dom, or knowledge, or goodness, can be obtained. 
 Man is standing before His Maker ; the allotted time 
 of trial has been finished; infinite love and goodness 
 will unite with infinite holiness and truth to exhibit 
 perfect righteousness. " The books " may now be 
 opened ; as many as have sinned with law shall also 
 perish with law ; and as many as have sinned in the 
 law shall be judged by the law. For this is " the day 
 in which God shall judge the secrets of men by Jesus 
 Christ," and "the heavens shall declare His righteous- 
 ness, for He is judge Himself." 
 
 I know that, shrouded as we are by the material 
 world, and busy as we are with present interests, it is 
 hard to believe in this divine inspection of our lives ; 
 hard to credit that we shall ever appear before our God. 
 But now and then flashes of faith, voices of conscience, 
 revelations in prayer, make us aware of what we see 
 not. The spirit in man proclaims a higher destiny 
 than the grave. Christ speaks words that ought to 
 end all doubt. Be, therefore, not deceived. Remember 
 the sleepless eye. Remember the unseen presence. 
 What may now appear to you terrible, will give com- 
 fort and joy, if once you love Him. Remember that 
 we have a great High Priest. If any man sin, we have 
 an Advocate. Give your case to Him ; and when at 
 
THE JUDGMENT Ijy 
 
 last you take your place before God, you will find 
 yourself accepted and saved, because Christ pleads for 
 you His blood ; and for every effort you have made to 
 serve Him, you will receive your reward. " God is 
 judge Himself," and He has said that he who believes 
 in Jesus shall not come into condemnation, but has 
 passed from death unto life. By all the peril which 
 yawns before us, by all the hopes of immortality we 
 possess, by all the words of Him who is true, I be- 
 seech you, in this your day of probation, to turn to 
 Christ the Saviour. Then the day of judgment will 
 be your day of coronation, and earth's probation will 
 end for you in heaven's eternal life. 
 
■■•'iiiiimmmiimmiiwiiMmmMiim" 
 
 hilttii i i