XI r Q ^cqmst. BOSTON: PRINTED BY JOHN WILSON AND SON, 22, School Street. 1858. DISCOURSE. Luke ix. 28 : " And he said to them all, If any man will come after ME, LET HIM DENY HIMSELF, AND TAKE UP HIS CROSS DAILY, AND FOL LOW ME." These were very significant words, in the full meaning of the Saviour's intention. Their meaning must have been apprehended, though with some degree of obscurity, by the disciples to whom they were spoken. Our Saviour had just before asked the question, " Whom do men say that I, the Son of man, am?" and commended the memorable answer of Peter, " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God," with the charge to tell no man at that time of this saying. On this declaration of his true nature and mission, he pro ceeded to announce to them the strange truth, that he must suffer, and be rejected of all, and be slain, but that he should rise again the third day. The vision of his death rose on his mind, with the dark form of the cross distinct and clear. On that cross he was to be lifted up, as Moses, for healing, lifted up the serpent in the wilderness. On that cross he was to hang, " the miracle of time, God's own sacrifice com plete." On that cross his body was to be broken for the world, and his blood shed for the remission of sins, accord ing to his own words at the hour of the Last Supper. The thought of this brought also into his mind, with equal clear ness, what his disciples in every age would be called upon to endure. He knew that the world never would welcome the truth which the cross must always proclaim. He knew that the world would scoff at it, and persecute its preachers ; that, as it had done to the Master himself, it would do in like manner to his servants ; as it had followed him to the death, it would not be more merciful to his followers. He knew, that, always and everywhere, to the Jewish heart, whether in the body of a Jew ornot, the cross would be a stumbling- block ; to the Grecian mind, whether in the body of a Greek or not, in the first century or the nineteenth, the cross would be foolishness ; and that Jew and Greek, the world over, would never cease their persecution of those who preached or believed that salvation cometh alone by Him who was crucified. And, because he knew this, he forewarned all who would be his disciples, when they were pondering the mo mentous question, whether to follow him or not, of what they had to expect, and fully make up their minds to, from the first. They must.be prepared to bear the reproach of the cross, as well as its burden ; the heaviness of its scandal, as well as its own natural weight. And he said to them all, " If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me." It must have seemed a hard saying ; and many that heard doubtless said so, and added, " Who can bear it ? " That word " cross," so familiar now that it fails to move the mind, was an un common word then to speak. It stood, as you 'are well aware, for all that was vile and contemptible, — for a form of death reserved only for the meanest of men. How it must have* struck upon 'the ear! ."The cross! What can have made him think of that ? How could that vile instrument of death have entered into his mind?" perhaps they asked one another. Perhaps they repeated the word, and inquired whether indeed they heard correctly. Yet the Lord did speak it, and plainly ; nor did he qualify it, or add any thing to soften its harshness, when he perceived their reluctance. Yes, it was the cross they were to take up, and bear it daily. And, as .we read on, we find, that, no long time after, those very men, not ashamed of it, but glorying in it for their Lord's sake, who had changed it into the sjmbol of the world's redemption, did take it up, and bear it firmly to the end ; making their deathbed upon it, if need were, after the manner of their Master. The words of Christ are the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. Their significance is never lessened as the years go by. Rather does their meaning sound fuller and grander as the ages unroll. I invite you, therefore, to study with me their application to ourselves. You perceive in them a peradventure, a determination, and a duty. These three points will direct our discussion. First, then, the peradventure. " If any man will come after me." If, — as though it were uncertain whether any man would ! I do not say, that, at this moment peculiarly, Christ's mind was doubtful.; but there were times during his humiliation, while he was subject to our humanity, and which he took upon himself with its limitations, that the dark shadow of mistrust rested a while on his mind. As he bore all our burdens, so there was the burden of discourage ment to be endured; that burden which weighs so many down to the earth ; which tries the elasticity as well as the firmness of our faith ; which clouds our minds, and well- nigh crushes the heart ; a burden which brings the bitter tears to our eyes, and palsies the strength of our arm. Who does not know what that burden is, — how heavy and grievous it is ? What earnest, strong-souled man has not felt it even to an agony? He watches, labors, pours forth his whole heart's wealth of affection ; he exhausts the entire force of his muscular mind ; he pleads and prays where pleading and prayer are wont to be made ; and yet it all seems to be as water spilt upon the ground. For all this outgoing there is no income ; for all this labor there is no product ; for all this prayer there is no answer. The soil is too barren to yield fruit, the rock is too hard to be split in twain. Great is this burden to him whose work is mostly with the minds and hearts of men. The farmer meets no soil so barren, the en gineer no rock so hard. To him who deals with the inner man of the heart, how often it seems* wholly and absolutely hopeless! Indolence, ignorance, bigotry (which is always ignorance, with the addition of conceit)', prejudice, obstinacy, stand firm against all assaults. The whole head grows sick, and the whole heart faint ; and down, over all the soul, sinks the wearying burden of despondency and discouragement. Now, because our Master, in his infinite condescension, took upon himself our humanity in all respects, save its sin fulness, he endured this burden. Notwithstanding he had laid aside his glory, and become poor that men through Iris poverty might be made rich, would men come to him ? would the adversary prevail ? would the world deny him for ever ? Hear the sigh which burst up once from the very depth of his burdened heart : " Nevertheless, when the Son of man shall come, will he find faith on the earth ? " The wilder ness beheld him under the pressure of temptation ; Betha ny's garden beheld him pierced with the pang of human grief; Gethsemane and Calvary beheld him under the bur den of the world's sin. And now, that he might be touched with the sense of all our infirmities, perhaps at this mo ment, and only but for the moment, when his own death so clearly rose before him, and he saw what all followers must endure, the doubt arose, " Will any man come after me ? In view of the cost, will any man be found willing to follow me ? " For, as we shall see presently with more distinct ness, that determination rests with each man. There is no compulsion. There is no overlaying of his will. There is always a peradventure, — an if. The question is an open one : a man may steadily and steadfastly refuse, and to the end. He may persist in his denial, and cleave to his wilful ness, in spite of all that Heaven will do. He may hug him self in his obstinacy. The very voice of God may sound in vain. The very hand of God may be laid on him in vain. You cannot say more at any time than if a man will. That peradventure must be, because a man's will is that fearful power which God Almighty himself will not force. So it was that our Lord could only say to those about him at that time, and can only say to us to-day, " If a man will." . The marvellous appeal of the Son of God from the bosom of the Father, and abiding with us amid contradiction and enmity and suffering, and dying for us, his body broken and blood shed, the everlasting sign and seal of the new cove nant of mercy between God and man, and rising from the dead, and opening the gates of heaven to all believers, where he now liveth to make intercession for us, — even this, as it would seem, irresistible appeal cannot remove the peradven ture. Man may reject it all, and close his ears and eyes and heart to it all, as Pharisee and Sadducee and Scribe did ; he may go on and crucify the Son of God afresh, and put him to an open shame, if he will. Nothing can prevent him. God himself respects that power, and will not bear it down. Christ can say to-day only what he said when he spake to all, " If a man will." Perchance he will, and perchance he will not; and the utmost the ablest ambassador of Christ can do is to pray, " Oh, make him willing in the day of thy power ! " But, secondly, the determination : " If any man will come after me." It is a matter of self-decision. No resistless force from any quarter precipitates a man into the path of 8 the Lord. No overbearing sweep of another's will can com mit one to the walk of the Master. It is wholly and abso lutely a personal concern. There is no delegating the trust. There is no saying to another, " Do this in my behalf ; write my name among the followers of Christ, as my proxy." It cannot be. Alone, by one's self, in the secret of his own soul, with the eye of God clear on the heart, in the calm and perfect consciousness of the solemn meaning of the act, must the irrevocable vow be made. There, in the very closet of his soul, must he choose whether he will come after Christ or not. There, and there only, and there again and again, must he renew and confirm and deepen the purpose on which hang his present condition, and all the future of eternity. It is a decision. It is a voluntary determination ; and which, as wholly voluntary, as I have already said, the Almighty God himself respects. And, I repeat, it is a fearful power to be clothed with. It is one which should make us tremble when we think of it, and all that it involves. We talk of the greatness and majesty of the human soul. We cannot overestimate it ; we cannot too greatly magnify it. There are no proportions too large. When I think of it ; when I think of that which dwells in every man's bosom, be he high or low ; when I think of what slumbers or wakes there ; what swelling affections, what throbbing pulses of life, what wide Teach ings of thought, what soaring aspirations of soul ; when I think what a man is, what he is capable of, to what heights of glory he can reach' up, to what depths of infamy he can fall down ; and when I add that word for ever, and look forward to the unending future in which he is to live, and enjoy or suffer, — I cannot scorn the meanest man ; I must stand in awe before the humblest and simplest man that breathes. I can understand something of the infinite yearn ing of God for the soul, — his child ; I can feel a little, at 9 least, of the tender and beseeching anxiety of our blessed Lord, who would gather all under his care and love. And when I think that the eternal destiny of each soul is com mitted irrevocably, without the possibility of interference, to its own secret determination.; that this is its -inalienable prerogative ; that, in this act, every soul is alone, — as much alone as if it were the only soul God ever made, — I can understand the infinite interest all heaven should take in it, and how it is that the determination, which way it turns, should spread joy or grief through all the Father's house. I must stand before the soul, in which the debate is going forward, with the deepest reverence and anxiety. The ma jesty of the will ! — what is like unto that ? What throne, what crown, what robe, what office, can compare with that ? The majesty of the will ! — what other majesty, save the majesty of Jehovah, can you conceive of, equal to it ? And the majesty of Jehovah is, is it not ? in the " He spake, and it was done ; he commanded, and it stood fast," — the creative will. And, in that creative will, man is made in the image of his God. He can speak in his own realm, and it is done ; he can command, and it stands fast. He can determine, not this or that inferior thing alone, but the destiny of his whole being. He can, he must, — for no other can in his stead, — will to come after Christ, or will to reject him. And the sigh of Christ is as deep to-day, / when the heart turns from him, as when he said over the city lying beneath him, " How often would I have gathered you, and ye would not ! " I beg of you to consider this subject ; for it is of the deepest interest. It will grow upon you while you muse. " Here am I, with my destiny in my own hands to deter mine ; and I must determine it. My choice settles it, and always will. It is not an arbitrary decree of God. It is not a sentence from an external authority. It is not a 10 decree from a formal judgment-seat. The judgment-seat is set up in my own breast. I am standing now before it. I am passing my own sentence now. What shall yet be, what throne I shall yet behold, what sentence I shall yet hear, will be but the issue of what now is, the outward representation of what is now hid in my own bosom, the re-announcing of the verdict I now pronounce. It is only the completion in eternity of my own act in time. I am to will, to decide; I only, I alone, — and now." Let a man solemnly reason with himself thus, bringing it home, in all its intense reality, to his own case, and will he not confess it is a fearful prerogative he is clothed with, — a majestic one indeed, but fearful in its majesty, and awful in its exer cise t Do not misunderstand me. I have said, that, in this act, man stands alone. In this act he is sovereign ; and the great Sovereign of earth and heaven, God himself, will not interpose his authority. It is a realm — man's will — into which he will not enter. But the good Father will ply every motive, bring every influence, watch and plead, that the decision be rightly made. What has he not done, what is he not doing, that we may determine rightly ? Every day's sun, every night's stars, plead with us. The glory of the spring-time — every springing grass-blade, every swelling bud and bursting blossom, every voice of singing bird, the chorus of a glad earth — pleads with us. The homes we live in ; the endearing attachments there ; the parental charge and the filial service ; the brother's pride and the sister's love ; the health and the sicknesses ; every blessing and every sorrow, solicitude and relief, fear and trust, disappointment and success ; the death that leaves the place vacant ; the birth that fills a new one, — what are all these, and the countless other experiences of our daily lot, but so many pleadings of God with us ? Above all, 11 " God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." This is the inestimable gift of our Father's love ; this is the fulness of his affection, and, as it would seem, the irresistible entreaty of his infinite mercy. " He spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all." He calls upon every man, upon you and me, to make our determination in view of that great interposition and costly sacrifice. He bids us look to Christ, — leaving the glory he had with the Father ere the world was, and hum bling himself to the form of a servant, and giving up his life for us all, — and in full sight of this sinless and suffering One, in the clear vision of those extended arms of mercy, by the mystery of that holy incarnation and cross and passion, bids us decide. Nay, more : into the soul come the | visitings of the Holy Spirit, touching the deep springs of feeling within us ; moving, swaying, impelling us with its breath ; viewless as the wind, but as powerful too ; startling us at times, as if a voice spake ; arresting us at times, as if a mighty hand were laid on us ; streaming in upon us as a great awakening light from heaven, revealing every thing at a glance, so that, on the instant, we know ourselves as we \ are, beyond the possibility of doubt, and God as he is, and Christ, and heaven and hell, what they are ; and, by all j these dealings of the Spirit with us, God bids us decide; In every way, and by every method, God pleads with the soul of man, proffering help, guidance, deliverance, and holding forth his promises of infinite beatitude ; while, as a deep undertone, roll the awful warnings from out of an undone )J eternity. It is not too literal language to say, God strives/' wrestles with the soul to keep it all his own, and aid it to a right and saving determination. No man, who, by a false decision, falls upon a ruined future, finds the door shut, and his portion with the unbelievers, will be able to charge God 12 with neglect. Yet, after all, each man must make his own decision. Jesus Christ passes by. Every man must will to come after him, or to let him go. It is wholly, unmistaka bly, and always, a purely personal concern. According as each man commands, shall it stand fast. But, thirdly, the duty : "If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me." If the decision is made, and rightly, then he willing to endure whatever shall come of it. Whatever is to be denied, deny it ; whatever cross is to be borne, bear it, — not sorrowfully and lingeringly and doubtfully, but) firmly, cheerfully, calmly. Be not always talking of it, but patiently receive it, because it was all understood at the beginning, and was embraced in your decision. I dislike to hear the followers of Christ complain of their burdens, or speak of them much. I dislike to hear them say much of their crosses, as if they were strange and unexpected, or too heavy ; and certainly we all dislike to hear them boast much of them, whatever they may be. Take them up, I say, quietly, meekly, but resolutely, because they are incident to your calling. The man, consulting as<' to whether he shall enter the army as a profession, may think much and talk much of its dangers and sufferings. He may ask and talk about privations and forced marches and night-watchings ; the perils of a siege, the explosions of mines, and the life in the trenches ; of battles and wounds, the hospital-wards, and quick or lingering death. But when he has decided, and become the soldier, let all this cease. He has his profession. ¦ Let him take what he knows comes of that profession, without complainings or self-complacency ; let him be the first to march or halt, to sleep or watch, to head the assault or wait the coming foe, to live or die for his cause. So, also, let the soldier of 13 Jesus Christ be ready to meet what comes in his profession. Let him be ever prompt at the call when it sounds, obey his orders as they are given, and keep his post wherever it is assigned ; and if there be privations, of what sort soever they may be, let him cheerfully endure them with the fewest words, but with the bravest spirit. Oh that there were more of this intrepid, manly bravery among the followers of the great Captain of our salvation ! Let them deny themselves, and take up the daily cross. / The cross is never pleasant. It is a cross, and that was j an instrument of suffering; and so it always will be. It had, and always will have, its sharp nails ; and sometimes it has also its thorns and spear, with mockeries and cruel jests. But what then ? It was told us at the first. Ere we choose the Master's service, he told us himself what it would be ; nay, more, he bore his cross himself, our Exem plar as well as Sacrifice. Take it up, then, when it lies in your path. Bear it meekly and courageously when it is / laid upon you. If you faint under it, you may rest assured there is One near at hand to bear it for you. Say of those who put it on you, in the spirit of your Master, " Father, forgive them: they know not what they do." For no one, knowing what he does, would lay a cross on a brother's heart. We are not to go out of our way to find crosses ; we are not to invite others to lay them upon us ; we must not provoke others to this end. You remember the Lord himself retired while he might, till the time came when he was to be lifted up. In the early days of our faith, it was too common for the new disciples to invite persecution. They often thrust themselves into it, and dared the execu tioners of the imperial order, that they might die a martyr's death in the amphitheatre, or at the fagot, or on the cross. It was not praiseworthy ; and it was condemned. They lost what they so eagerly sought, — the martyr's sacred name. 14 We need not always be rushing against the pricks ; we need not, for the sake of showing our zeal, be throwing ourselves into a breach uncalled for. As much bravery is shown in the calm waiting as in the attack. But, when the time comes, be not backward: when the cross meets us, let us take it up ; let us bear it steadily, uncomplain ingly. And the daily cross, let it not dishearten us ; let us not be quick to speak of it, neither imagine it some strange thing. Let us bear it, looking steadily unto Christ, and for his sake ; and, by and by, we shall find it wearies us no longer. It is a blessed burden. Nay, as we take it up, we shall find it takes us up, and is no longer the instru ment of death, but the way of life ; till, at last, we can gladly sing in triumph, — " Jesus, I my cross have taken, All to leave, and follow thee: 1 am poor, despised, forsaken ; Thou, henceforth, my all shalt be. " Let the world despise and leave me ; It has left my Saviour too : Human hearts and looks deceive me; Thou art not, like them, untrue. " Sou), then, know thy full salvation; Rise o'er sin and fear and care; Joy to find, in every station, Something still to do or bear." My friends, we have studied the words of the Master. The appeal is straight to the heart. Let there be no " per adventure " about any one of us, no " if." Let us bind the decision upon our souls, " I will come after Jesus ; " and as to the cross, " Lay on me, Lord, burdens as thou wilt." Then shall our lives move forward with a steady step, and their end shall be found in peace. How triumphant and holy the death-scene in the cham ber of that faithful servant* of Christ suddenly called, in * Rev. D. A. Tyng, D.D., of Philadelphia. 15 the full strength of his manhood and with all his armor on, from his post as Christ's ambassador, wherein he had suf fered many crosses, to his glorious rest with the redeemed of all ages ! How blessed in that hour, with loving hearts surrounded, to be able to lift the song a true lover of Jesus alone can sing ! — " Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee." It was a quiet domestic scene. Its actors thought only of themselves, tlieir own sorrow and their own faith, which soothed their sorrow into peace, — the departing soul and the coming Comforter. But it has become a power in the world. Above all, those words to the father from his son will live long, and journey wide, and animate many and many a minister of Christ, — "Stand up for Jesus." I take that charge home to myself, — " Stand up for Jesus." This is what, with the blessing of God, I mean to do, let come what may of it, let what cross may be laid upon me. As a soldier of Jesus Christ, I mean to stand firm for the Captain of my salvation, in the post he has assigned me, with a courage that shall not fail, because he will strengthen me to the end. As an ambassador of Christ, I mean to deliver his message as I receive it from him in answer to the daily call, " Speak on, Lord, for thy servant heareth thee," without disguise as without shame, and without pre varication, — a sin which never polluted my lips or stained my heart. As one who, after long and weary striving, has found peace with God through faith alone in the " Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world," I mean to stand, — in no name of human device, on no foundation but the Holy Bible, — and plead with men, "through the blood of the everlasting covenant," to be reconciled to God. May the Lord give me of his own strength and guidance still to " stand up for Jesus " to my last hour ! , 16 Friends, I cannot do otherwise. I should be an apostate ; and this you would not have me to be. I must preach, so long as I preach at all, Christ Jesus, the only and all-sufficient Saviour of the world, " who of God is made unto us wisdom and righteousness and sancti- fication and redemption ; that, according as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord." I take my position plainly on these words : " God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them." I desire no denominational name, because I seek fellowship with all of every name " who worship God in the Spirit, and rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh." To bring the souls of men into living relations with their living Lord ; to win their hearts to him who loved them, and gave himself for them ; to reveal to every burdened, suffering, we'ary, seek ing soul the tender, compassionate, sympathizing Friend, who bids all come unto him for the rest for which they yearn, — this is my supreme, paramount, my only aim and effort, beyond which I care but little. All other matters, important as they may be, are as nothing in comparison with this : for the soul that is brought to Christ must be led of Christ aright ; for he is " the Way and the Truth and the Life." Here I must take my position, and preach as the reconciling Word, — knowing no other, — " Christ, and him crucified." I must ; for so it stands written in the Holy Bible ; for so it is written in my deepest consciousness ; for so have I seen it welcomed as the word of life by many a soul that God has given me as the seals of my ministry ; many who have entered into their rest, and many whose warfare is not yet accomplished. God has given me as surance, over and over again, that it is indeed the gospel of glad tidings. I must therefore " stand up for Jesus," if I would not be guilty before God, and, in Christ's stead, 17 plead with you to be reconciled unto God. I ask to remain at this post only so long as you will. I put forth no claim ; I offer no plea. Painful as it would be to break holy ties and associations, and lose the bright dream of my youth and the glory of my manhood, still Christ is dearest to me ; and I will bear that cross. But, brethren beloved and longed for, I beseech you, that, with consenting hearts, you stand fast in the Lord, my dearly beloved. And may that Lord be able to say to each one of us at the great day, " Well done, good and faithful servant ! enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." " Now unto Him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy, — to the only wise God, our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen." YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 9002 08867 9270