Chapter XV: Part 15

So much as to the first suggestion--the man's sickness. The place where he was lying was called Bethesda, which means House of Mercy. Nor need I inform you which is the true Bethesda, the House of Mercy, provided for the cure of those souls who are spiritually halt, blind, withered, and weak. That's the Church of Jesus Christ, and in that place there was a pool, as we heard, endowed with miraculous properties, greatly valued, thronged about by patients. To that pool we have in our Bethesda an exact and superior counterpart, a blessed fountain from which issues the stream of health and salvation upon the sinful and diseased race of man, a water allied not only with the contact of an angel, but with the presence of the Savior Himself. You know of what water I am speaking, you yourselves have been committed into this salutary flood. It is the Sacrament of Holy Baptism. It might be well to speak a few words on the subject. What Bethesda's part was for the body, that, my beloved, is Holy Baptism to the soul. It was a means of restoration and recovery, it gave health back to the limbs and frame. So does Baptism. "Arise, and be baptized, and wash away thy sins," said Ananias to Saul. "A washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Ghost," says Paul. "It works forgiveness of sins, delivers from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation," says Luther. Baptism is the means by which the Holy Ghost operates in a soul, the outward washing which you see with your eyes is a type of the washing which God's power affects invisibly. We speak of Baptism in our church not only as a rite, a ceremony, a form of initiation, but as a means of grace, as a means of salvation, by which we are christened, that is, made Christians. To elucidate. Outside of our city there are enormous reservoirs holding millions of tons of water, and we daily see vast tanks holding thousands of cubic feet of gas. But all of these would be useless unless pipes are laid to convey their currents. Lay those pipes, and you have the means of securing water in your homes and light in your dwellings. So the Sacraments, of which Baptism is one, are means by which God's blessings are brought to our souls. It's not an idle ceremony which one can dispense with at liberty, nor is it something which people can wait with till they are old enough to be taught the Christian faith and to understand it; as well might they dispense with the supply of water and illumination, or wait until they themselves can lay the pipes. No; God has given us the means, now we must use them, and use them as early as possible. If this man had spoken as disparagingly of the pool of Bethesda as some people speak of Baptism, and had in consequence kept away from its waters, he would not have met with Christ, and would have remained a cripple all his days. It is for us to use God's means, and to hold with the Scripture that no man is a Christian until he has been baptized. Of course, there is this difference between the impotent man in the Gospel and some in our community. He _could_ not enter the healing water, they _will_ not. They lie by the side of Bethesda, but, not believing in the healing waters, are never benefited as to their own souls.

There are many objections made against Baptism. To repeat and publicly set aright one objection sometimes met with in our circles: What good does Baptism do? See how many children turn out bad afterwards notwithstanding. What good does it do? I answer: The same good that it does if you had water and illumination connection, and then cut it off. No good; on the contrary, if, having been made God's children, Christians, in Baptism, we afterwards live as heathen, so much the worse the sin as our Savior particularly warns this man who was healed. "Behold, thou art made whole; sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon thee." But had the man nevertheless gone back to his sinful life, would that have made the healing of no account? And so the fact that people once baptized live in sin does not make Baptism of no account. Marriage is not a failure because some who have married have proved failures. When a man enlists in the army, the form of enlistment makes him a soldier, but not necessarily a good soldier; he may prove to be a coward and traitor, but it put him in a position to lead a brave and useful life and to win honor and glory; if he chooses otherwise, it is his own fault. So in baptism we are made Christians, but it is our own fault if we afterwards turn out bad Christians. Baptism is the beginning, the means, not the end. We are put on the right road, we are made God's children, citizens of His kingdom of heaven. It is our own fault, not the Sacrament, if we develop into prodigals, wander out of the right road, prove cowardly soldiers and bad citizens.

As to the third suggestion made, the cure, let us briefly note that the condition of that poor paralytic is the perfect emblem of our human nature, of ourselves without Christ. As he was diseased and helpless in body, so are we all diseased and helpless in soul. To a miracle of grace he owed his recovery; and where he found his cure, we must find ours. He stands before us this very moment again, that omnipotent Son of God, that compassionate Savior, and asks, "Wilt thou be made whole?" Wilt thou receive the absolution of thy God, the forgiveness of thy sins, through the mediation of my suffering and death? Nothing else can remove the palsy of our nature, nothing else can give health and soundness.--Let us, then, who feel our malady and wish it removed, answer, Yes, Lord, I will be whole.

Jesus, give me true repentance
By Thy Spirit come from heaven.
Whisper this transporting sentence,
"Son, thy sins are all forgiven."

Amen.

TWENTIETH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.

And He said also to the people, When ye see a cloud rise out of
the west, straightway ye say, There cometh a shower; and so it
is. And when ye see the south wind blow, ye say, There will be
heat; and it cometh to pass. Ye hypocrites! Ye can discern the
face of the sky and of the earth; but how is it that ye do not
discern this time?--_Luke 12, 54-56._

Men have always been solicitous about the weather. In the morning they are desirous to know what the day will bring forth; in the evening, what sort of temperature it will be on the morrow. Curiosity, in part, a lack of something more important to think and talk about, and, in part, the regulation of one's duties and work prompt this concern. It has ever been so. In the Holy Land, when the sky was aglow with the exquisite tints of an Oriental sunset, it meant fair weather the next day; when the west wind, sweeping over the Great or Mediterranean Sea laden with moisture blew over the land, it was a safe indication of rain, whereas the breezes coming from the sterile and desert plains of the East portended a heated season and continued drouth. We have similar indications. Flocks of birds, at this season, flying across our city in search of a more congenial home, tell us of approaching winter. Not relying on such indications alone, the Government has established everywhere meteorological stations; weather forecasts are distributed broadcast, wireless telegraphy flashes out the approach of devastating storms, thus forewarning navigation and securing protection to citizens and property and life. All of which is commendable, argues forethought, wisdom, which God has designed that men should exercise. Nor does our Lord in the text in any wise disapprove of such precautions and measures. He would have us make application of that same forethought, wise provision, with respect to another sphere. "As you study the weather," is His direction, so you ought with equally observing and wakeful mind study the times, watch the signs, regard the phenomena that appear in the political, civil, social, mercantile, domestic skies, marking their bearing on the affairs of God's kingdom, and exercise respecting them the same forethought and sense of provision. That duty shall we now do in these moments of public worship, noting as our theme: _A few signs of the times and the corresponding duties of Christians and church-members. We shall observe:_ _I. Three such outstanding signs_; _II. what it becomes us to do_.

The first outstanding sign, prevailing and predominating characteristic of our times, that we shall mention is commercialism. To explain:--the question of "what shall we eat, what shall we drink, and wherewith shall we be clothed," has always and everywhere been a live question. Men must live, and "to live" means the possession of the things just mentioned, food and drink, dress and property, the possession of this earth's goods; but it is a question whether in the history of the world these matters have bulged out so prominently and so monopolized the efforts and attention of men as at the present and in our own country. With the avenues of success open to every man that is industrious and intelligent, with competition keen, demanding concentration of energy and effort, gaining a livelihood and a little of this earth's goods has become like a whirlpool which draws and drags everything into its devouring current and vortex. The spirit of commerce is supreme; not, I suppose, that everybody loves money and this earth's goods simply and only for its own sake, but there is an excitement and fascination in having it; it stands for the standard of efficiency and worth and influence among men, so that all are scrambling and scheming for it. Listen to the trend of conversation, the topic of discussion in people's homes--what is it? Show a man a material advantage that he may secure, often at the sacrifice of honesty and principle, and he is your undying friend. Now, with men's minds thus set, it is but a natural consequence that it should affect their heart, endanger their spiritual life. Business, indeed, is not incompatible with piety. A man may be a devout Christian and church-member and an excellent business man, but it may so preoccupy his mind and preengage his heart that he ceases to think about religious matters at all. It is not an uncommon thing to see a man attentive unto the things of the Lord, intent in the services and the meetings of the church; when anything special is to be done, he is on hand to help. Business responsibilities increase, he becomes less earnest in these respects; he has to rise so early in the morning that he has no time or thought for prayer; he comes home so tired in the evening that he has no consideration for anything else, and if he goes out, it is in the interest of business. Even the Lord's day is levied upon, and when it comes, his mind is perchance more occupied while he sits under the pulpit with his figures than with the sermon. Tell him he is being missed,--the retort is the common, trite answer, "No time." But the real reason lies deeper. He has gotten into the current, he is being drawn into the whirlpool of commercialism, and if there be any who feel that I have been holding up a mirror wherein you have seen yourselves, let me urge upon you to take heed. You are paying too much for your material success, and if you do not return to your old anchorage, you may find yourself where you had never thought to get--afar from Christ, His worship and service. There is nothing better than for a man occasionally to take his bearings, to find where he is located, and whether he is holding his own against the stream of opposite tendency that is flowing through our social life, in which he is drifting, being carried in opposite direction, among those who pass from the neglecting to the despising and rejecting of the great salvation.

Hand in hand with this tendency of our times there is another: indifferentism. Certainly, if everything is gauged by the measurement of dollars and cents, then men's thoughts are absorbed by material considerations. It is quite natural that religion should be placed on the same low basis. Indifferentism generally resolves itself into a question. That question is, "What's the use? What's the use of prayer? Has it ever brought you any gain? What have you that you wouldn't have if you had not prayed?" "What's the use of going to church? What benefit has it ever brought you? It has not fetched you one customer, one penny of profit, rather the reverse--it has been an expense, easily avoidable." "What's the use of going to the Lord's Supper? A man may be a Christian for all that." "God governs the world, His providence overrules it all, but it is, after all, the man who plans and plods that wins out, so why be concerned about this overruling Providence?" "When the end comes, well, then I hope there is a place where those who, like myself, have tried to be honest and upright will finally get to. I am willing to risk my chances. What is the use of being over-much concerned about the future?" It is not that our times are stubbornly and positively atheistic and infidelic; perhaps there was never less of that than now. But comparatively few in speech or person or in print venture to attack Christianity as a system. The danger lies elsewhere. We have lapsed into a state of indifference. There is a passing away of an earnestness of conviction, of moral stamina, of strength of belief. What was once accepted as God's truth is now called into question. "Don't emphasize creed, doctrine, destructive belief; we have gotten beyond that." Yes, we have gotten beyond that, and in consequence have gotten and are daily getting into a current that shall find us contending for the simplest truths of the Christian faith. What fad, however unscriptural and irrational, but it finds multitudes of followers. Consider the greatest fad that is sweeping over the land--Christian Science. How is it possible that such an absolutely heretical, nonsensical system of unchristian, anti-Biblical statement should ever have had such a phenomenal growth, if our people were not so dreadfully indifferent in matters of Bible teaching? The same is true of the Russellites, whose publications are being distributed broadcast over the land, who deny the simple doctrines of hell and resurrection, and foretell the time of Christ's coming to Judgment and to reign in unadulterated bliss for thousand years.

The Catechism is denounced from the pulpits. "Why instruct the juvenile mind in such fetters of theology?" "What is there to confirmation?--teaching children in their teens to confess a faith they do not half comprehend?" The good old Bible Book--"is it really what has been claimed for it?" Do not most clergymen of progressive ideas put allegorical interpretations upon its stories, for instance, the fall of man into sin? Do not many learned scholars point out what they claim to be discrepancies, and say it must be considered and weighed just like every other book in which are some good things and some inferior? And the sorry consequence of all this? It is this, that we have no positive conviction at all, that the majority are like a vessel without a guiding compass or a determinate course, floating hither and thither, as the wavering current of whims or opinion may chance to drive them. And if, to note the application, we are asked whether we join in this trend of thought of the times, this contemptuous treatment of the Word of God and Catechism, we should answer with an emphatic "No." But are we quite sure that we have not imbibed a little of it unconsciously? After so much has been said about the old-fashioned hell,--a hard doctrine for sentimental souls to believe,--why not mitigate it a little, and believe that after this life poor sinners have another chance?--'Tis true, the Savior does say, "This do in remembrance of me," "but I guess I'll not be condemned if I do not go to His Sacrament." Beloved hearer, you may flatter yourself that it will have no effect upon you, but unless you conscientiously and determinedly watch it, you will find yourself yielding to it. Beloved, we watchmen on the towers of Zion, scanning the skies and observing the signs, are everywhere noting the indifference among our older members, among our young people, and the only thing to do is to get back to the old anchorage, to place our faith firmly and securely upon the rock of eternal Truth, _i. e._, the grand old Bible. Its words are truth and nothing but the truth. Let that be our guide in doctrine, in practice. What that says let us believe; what that forbids let us forsake; that will put us right and keep us right. These vagaries and fluctuating opinions of men and women will pass away like the clouds of the air; but even though heaven and earth pass away, God's Word will not pass away. Our safety and happiness lies in adhering to what it teaches and following its directions.--When the storm-clouds are gathering in the horizon and the weather bureau flashes out the danger signals, then it is wisdom to seek shelter, to get under somewhere. There is such an ark of safety yet, and that is the Church of Christ, where His cross and Gospel are preached, held and confessed, uncompromisingly. Take your place there as a consistent, positive member, and avoid indifference in religious matters.

And one more disastrous sign of the times would we regard. I need not remind you that the brightest jewel that we possess under the Constitution of this country is religious liberty. Its wise and pious framers, knowing both from reason and from sharp experience that religious liberty can only exist in the strict separation of Church and State, adopted every precaution to prevent the admission of anything hostile to religious liberty, to go into the political machinery of the state. Their object was "a free church in a free country." It is well known, not suspicion merely, but known by those who have the best understanding of the times, that a spirit has of late years prevailed which is intensely hostile to the civil and religious principles of our government. There have been some bold encroachments on the part of a subtle and formidable antagonist. You know whom I mean--Rome, dangerous Rome, which does not believe in the separation of Church and State, which acknowledges but one head, who is the embodiment of temporal, political, and spiritual power, which openly and unequivocally asserts that the civil authority is subordinate to the Church. Rome's representatives have been loaded with official favors and flatteries; Rome's interests have been fostered with the most fatal insidiousness by political leaders; Rome has been caressed, and complimented, and taken into confidence and alliance with those in authority. What is the meaning of all this? Sordid maneuvers of diplomacy and craft undermining the fundamental principles and rights of our Constitution, menacing clouds in the sky that threaten our civil liberty. And what is to be done? We ought to know; the name which graces our denomination points the way. Luther gave Rome its death-wound in his day by wielding so powerfully the sword, the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. Let us grasp that selfsame sword; let us teach the doctrines which he taught so effectively to its overthrow, and we, too, shall prevail. Point out the soul-destroying errors of Rome, and you unarm her spiritually. And again, as citizens, let us make a determined and combined movement to repel the creeping invasion, the subtle but forceful and successful invasion of popery. The political leading men of our day may not be conscious of it; let us hope, in the judgment of charity, that they are not; but it is perfectly clear that the influence of that dark and mysterious and tremendous system is upon them. For us who have studied and know Rome it becomes to counteract, eradicate every tendency that would break down or reduce our constitutional liberties.

We have mentioned three specific signs--commercialism, indifferentism, Romanism. Let us, keeping our eyes open, beware of the destructive power of the first, the deadening influence of the second, the insidious danger of the third, and so pass through these things temporal that we lose not the things eternal. Amen.

TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.

For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down
first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to
finish it? Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and
is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock
him, saying, This man began to build, and was not able to
finish.--_Luke 14, 28-30._

In the pass of Thermopylae, in the country of Greece, there stands a monument, world-renowned, erected to Leonidas and his valiant three hundred. It bears the inscription: "Go, stranger, and tell at Sparta that we died here fighting to the last in obedience to our laws," and commemorates that thrilling event when Leonidas with his three hundred successfully held the pass of Thermopylae against tremendous odds until betrayed into the hands of the enemy. What it bears magnificent witness to is the quality of loyalty, steadfastness. The same noble quality does God require, look for, in His people. The Apostle in to-day's Epistle, summing up the conduct of the spiritual soldier, says: "Stand, therefore, and having done all, stand," and again, emphasizing the same virtue, he remarks: "Watching thereunto with all perseverance." It is not the boldest regiment that always makes the best record, but that which holds out the longest. It is not the most enthusiastic Christian and ardent church-member that wins His Master's commendation, but he that proves "faithful." The parable of our text brings home to us the same lesson. It tells us of a man who contemplates the erection of a tower. Before entering upon his enterprise, he first sets down and, with pencil in hand, figures the cost, whether his funds will permit him to undertake the matter, lest, having begun and failing, he become the laughing-stock of his neighbors, and the uncompleted structure a monument to his folly. Equally so, does the Savior point out, is it, in another sphere, the realm of religion. A person hears the call of religion, feels its power and promptings, its necessity and claims; his heart is persuaded, his mind is made up, he ought to, and wants to be, a Christian, in the words of the parable, he contemplates the erection of the tower, but ordinary prudence bids that he should sit down and consider the costs, lest, beginning and not completing, the venture end in dismal failure, and he become the object of mockery and contempt. And yet is it not this ordinary, common-sense method, which they apply so keenly otherwise, that so many disregard in matters of soul? Why else would there be so many apostates, fallings away, in the ranks of confessed believers? Let us, then, wisely and for once sit down for a few moments in public Christian worship, and consider this matter, noting: _The parable of the tower--an exhortation to Christian steadfastness._ We shall group our remarks around two chief thoughts: _I. What does it cost to be a Christian?_ _II. Does it pay to be one?_

To begin with, let it be noted that Christianity connects with cost; it _does_ cost to be a Christian. There is a type of religion which is not only a very easy, but a most inexpensive kind. Putting on the garment and speaking the language of godliness, it is stranger to its power. However, that type is not the building of a tower, rather of a shack, a flimsy construction which the slightest wind-storm and rising rivulet will soon sweep away. In building a substantial structure, the first concern is the foundation. You do not see that, it is hidden from view; yet upon that foundation rests the building, and it is just as strong as its foundation. So, spiritually, the main part of Christianity is hidden, it is something that takes place away from human view; yet upon that unseen experience rests its reality, its strength. What is that experience?

In laying a foundation, there is, first, the excavation, the removal of the soil, of all obstructions and obstacles. This is difficult work and costly work. So, spiritually, religion calls for the removal of obstacles, obstructions, soil. Man's heart is not fit to build the tower of Christ's religion, it must undergo a change; "old things must pass away." There must be a plowing up. There are painful memories to be recalled, sins to be mourned over, habits and ways of thinking and doing to be given up, likes and loves and feelings to be renounced. It is as true now as it ever was that "except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." We call this repentance, contrition, sorrow over one's sin. It means the reconstruction and transformation of one's nature, and costs many a pang, many a sigh, many an inner struggle and protest.

Then, when the rubbish and soil have been removed, the excavation has taken place; there must be a laying of the foundation. Which that foundation is, is plain. "Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ." Belief in Christ, faith in the Savior, must follow, else there can be no tower. My dear hearer, have you undergone that change of heart, experienced that inner sorrow? Have you paid the first cost?

Laying a foundation without building thereupon does not answer the purpose. We must add a superstructure, and this also costs. And what is the superstructure? St. Paul speaks of it when he writes: "I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service," when he says to the Corinthians: "Ye are bought with a price, therefore glorify God in your bodies and in your spirits, which are God's," or quite briefly remarks: "For me to live is Christ." We call this adding of the superstructure, consecration, and what does it involve? Everything. Beginning with yourself, it levies upon your body, your mind, your soul, your time, talents, influence, possessions, property, money, your all. It is just to this particular, of consecration, dedication of oneself and possessions, that Christ refers in the verses preceding the text: "If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life, he cannot be my disciple."

Earthly love, domestic relations, material considerations--nothing is permitted to stand in the way of absolute and entire consecration of oneself, and all one has and possesses, to Christ. Beloved, is this not a particular which many who profess to be Christians do not apprehend? When they are called upon to give themselves, of their time and means and ability, to the cause of the Lord, they feel and act as though some great thing is being asked of them, that they are doing something superfluous. They need not feel so. It is a matter they ought to have weighed when they entered upon Christian life. God lays His hand upon all that you are, and all that you have, and says: "This is mine," and only he and she are building properly upon the foundation which is Christ who say: "Here, Lord, am I and all that is mine. Upon thy altar it lies in holy consecration. Lord, what wilt Thou have me do?"

And one other cost would we mention. It costs courage. Not exactly the same courage as when called upon, in the early centuries, to face the tortures of the rack, the beasts of the Coliseum and the flames of the martyr's stake, yet a courage, none the less noble, a moral courage. There are plenty of things to discourage us. "Is this vile world a friend to grace to help me on to God?" No, it is not. It is full of conflicts and criticisms and sharp collisions. If so many Christians of our day have such a good and easy time of it, is it not because they are not Christians after the style of the apostles and the early martyrs?

Satan is still the god of this world, and one need only take a decided stand against him, and the things that belong to him, to find it out. Yes, it costs something to be a Christian, a consecrated church-member. A Christian cannot be, cannot act and do, as non-Christians, non-church-members act and do. Aye, does it not frequently call for courage even to be known as a church-member? The finger of scorn is pointed and the sneer of sarcasm is hurled at many a one for that.

Nor only from those that are without; discouragement frequently comes from those who are within. Christians are the communion of saints, but their behavior toward each other is not always saintly. Human nature, everywhere ugly and crabbed, is apt to make itself manifest there too. Appreciation deserved, gratitude looked for, is not always received. And this is very trying, betimes; in fact, some think that it is beyond all endurance, judging by their withdrawal. But have those that so feel ever thought it over? Whoever builds a house without having some unpleasantness, and sometimes great unpleasantness? But does he, therefore, desist from completing the structure? Know, my dear hearer, whatever may be the nature of the annoyances, difficulties, and hindrances to Christian life and church-membership, they belong to the costs, and when they occur, face them with becoming courage and steadfastness. A sorry soldier that will throw away his gun and quit the ranks because of the discouragements in the way! This, then, is what it costs to be a Christian--repentance, consecration, courage.

And are the returns adequate to the cost? What benefit is there in being a Christian, erecting such a tower? Does it pay? There are people who think not. They consider that they make the most by keeping aloof. Whether they have done it by careful figuring out, like the man in the parable, is doubtful, but they are persuaded in their own mind that they are the gainers by not identifying themselves with Christ and His Church. They do not like religious restraints. They wish to be free to do as they please. They can enjoy more of the comforts and pleasures of life, can pursue their ways with less compunction, make more money, gain more friends, if they keep themselves out of the church entanglements and obligations. So they reason and congratulate themselves. But what advantage have they over us? The truth is that there is not a single relation or human interest in which it does not pay to be a Christian. To specify briefly: It pays to be a Christian physically; godliness teaches and inculcates all those laws and things that produce and promote health, the welfare of one's body. It pays to be a Christian materially, in one's labors and business. To be a good man, to have the reputation of honesty, is as fine a business capital as any one would want. It pays domestically; the home where godliness prevails approaches the ideal home and is the strongest bulwark of society. The same holds good with regard to the joys of life. "Religion was never devised to make our pleasures less." Religion sanctifies our pleasures; it draws the checkreins upon ungodly extravagances and excesses; and so it pays also in this respect. And when it comes to the dark side of life, the manifold difficulties and troubles that accompany man in his abode here below, "when other helpers fail and comforts flee"--oh, for the power, the comfort, the divine support of religion! And we have said nothing yet of the strictly spiritual advantages. It pays to be a Christian; a Christian possesses a good conscience, which is more valuable than all of this world's possessions, the sunshine of God's forgiveness and favor through faith in his Savior; the blessed joy and inspiration that comes from prayer and worship of God. Nor does the matter stop there. When the scenes of this time and world fade upon our vision; when, passing through the dark and shadowy valley and before the judgment seat of Him to whom we must give account; when the glories of the Golden City open and the crown immortal is placed upon our brow,--then we shall realize that it pays to be a Christian.

To conclude,--there should be any right-thinking, calculating person that, having begun, will fail to complete the building of this tower? How foolish before God and men, how dangerous!

Be steadfast! be wise!--
"Build on, my soul, till death
Shall bring thee to thy God;
He'll take thee at thy parting breath
To thy divine abode."

Amen.

TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.

Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are
spiritual restore such an one in the spirit of meekness;
considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted.--_Gal. 6, 1._

The Christian Church is frequently compared with a hospital. The comparison is correct. Christ calls Himself a Physician; then those to whom He has come to heal are sick, and the institution which He has established for the spiritually soul-sick is the Church. Not for those who regard themselves well, who in self-righteous haughtiness would be no sinners, but for those who, acknowledging their soul-sickness, are looking for healing from the Physician of souls, Christ Jesus, is this divine institution. The Church, we may aptly say, is a hospital.

In a hospital, however, we have respect to proper treatment, we desire to become rid of our ailment, and are ready to submit to any course and remedy that will promote our healing. Equally so in the spiritual hospital ought we to be ready and thankful for any method and manner of treatment that helps us become rid of our sins, our faults, our errors. Such a course, suggested by the Gospel-lesson, would we for once regard in this morning devotion. Let us consider _a Christian's duty toward an erring brother_, noting, _I. what this duty is_; _II. how it is to be performed_; _III. some of the happy results_.

"Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual restore such an one in the spirit of meekness." What the Apostle here commands is this: If a Christian, a member of a congregation, falls, those who are standing are to help him up again. If he falls into error of doctrine, they are to bring him to the belief of the Bible truth, and if he falls into some sin of life, they are to remonstrate with him, so that he may repent and return into the way of right. That this is one of the most difficult of Christian duties is true, and that it is a duty grossly neglected by Christians is true also. But for that reason it becomes all the more necessary to call attention to it. "Thou shalt in any wise rebuke thy neighbor, and not suffer sin upon him," we read Lev. 19. Solomon says: "Rebuke a wise man, and he will love thee." A greater than Solomon, even our Savior, has said: "If thy brother trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault." Again, St. Paul directs: "Reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long-suffering." These are but a few of many similar texts of Scripture that might be cited to show that to reprove an erring fellow-Christian is just as solemn and weighty as that which tells us, "Thou shalt not steal," or admonishes to read our Bibles, and attend on public worship. And be it noted, this is every Christian's duty. It will not do to say: Let the pastor do it, or let those do it who are better qualified than myself. It is indeed the pastor's duty, and it is the duty of those of whom you say they are better qualified than yourself, and it is also your duty; for thus says the Apostle: "Ye which are spiritual restore such an one." If you are spiritual, if you are a Christian, it is your duty to apply brotherly admonition; and is it right to shift your duty on to the shoulders of others?

Christians may easily sin by depending too much on the pastor to do everything. The pastor cannot be everywhere, cannot see everything, and often it is wrong to tell him about everything. The direction here is not only for the pastors, but for all the members. That question of qualification is indeed a delicate thing. The truth is that those who think themselves qualified, and therefore use impertinent boldness, are generally not qualified for effectual brotherly admonition. If God has placed you into such a situation that you see a brother in danger of losing his soul through error, sin, or despondency, then let not the feeling of disqualification seal your lips, but sigh to God to open your lips to speak a word of instruction, rebuke, or comfort as it seems needed. Remember, it is a duty, this matter of Christian reproof, something which God has plainly and strongly commanded us to perform. This is our first consideration.

However, if brotherly admonition is to have the proper effect, it must be applied in the right way. "Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault." That does not mean that a Christian should make it his business to rebukingly approach others for little and insignificant faults. In that case he would soon be regarded as a faultfinder, an overly eager critic, and would no more be listened to. Brotherly admonition should be applied in such things by which the brother's soul is endangered if left to go on therein.

I shall mention a few,--neglect of attendance upon divine worship and sacrament, intemperance, when one is convinced that the visits to the drinkhouse are too frequent, habitually frequenting the playhouse, the dancing-floor, living in some secret sin, using ungodly, profane speech, being irreconcilable with one's housemates or fellow-members. These are faults, and when one is overtaken in such a fault, then it becomes my Christian duty and yours to restore such a one--how? In the spirit of meekness, with mildness, kindness, humility. Nothing is more opposed to the spirit in which Christian rebuke is to be administered than harshness, haughtiness, abruptness, overbearing manner. Hard words are apt to incite opposition and stubbornness. A reproof kindly given is like a healing oil. A tornado destroys, a mild breeze refreshes. Brotherly admonition is only then indeed brotherly when given in a brotherly manner.

In reproving an offending brother, we must make it apparent that it is his highest good that we honestly seek; it must be obvious that we have no personal dislike to gratify, no spleen to vent, no feeling of superiority. It must be manifest to him that we do it from a sincere conviction of duty, from a feeling that if we did not care for him and sincerely desire his happiness as a Christian, we could never be induced to attempt this painful duty. This is the spirit with compassion for the offended. There must be a spirit like this, and oh! the power in Christian rebuke when administered like this. It will subdue and reclaim anything but a heart of adamant. But this meekness must be mingled with humbling conviction of our own frailty and liability to sin. "Considering," wrote the Apostle, "thyself, lest thou also be tempted." We must go to the erring brother with that gentle and subdued spirit resulting from conviction and practical view of our own numerous sins, and a holy fear of falling ourselves, that we may soon need the Christian reproof of a brother for our own faults. Fraternal kindness and gentleness does not exclude--what we must yet mention--firmness. The hand of the surgeon who amputates a diseased limb or growth from the human body, must be a steady hand, unmoved by the cries and the writhing of the patient. It is not cruelty, but kindness to the sufferer, that keeps the surgeon undiverted and firm to his purpose till the operation is performed. So he that would successfully administer Christian reproof must have his heart firmly set on the work. He must go about it with an inflexible determination to accomplish, by God's aid, what he attempts. The wincing irritability, ill temper, and provoking replies of the offended must not for a moment divert him from his purpose, or throw him off his guard. He must approach with the purpose of winning him back to truth and the path of righteousness. Hating the sin, but loving the sinner, he must hold on until the person has been saved or proved to be incorrigible, a manifest and unrepentant sinner.

So much as to the manner--"with meekness and firmness." And are there any happy effects to be realized from the faithful performance of this duty? That is the last general thought to be presented, namely, the blessed consequences of Christian reproof.

The first happy effect is that it will free the Christian who performs this duty from being partaker of others' sins, and will give him a peace of conscience which he cannot otherwise enjoy. God has solemnly warned us Christians: "Be ye not partakers of other men's sins." Now that professing Christian who fails to rebuke or reprove a brother whom he knows to be in fault, silently assents to that brother's sin. His conduct obviously shows that he either does not consider his brother as sinning at all, or that his fault is so trivial that it is not necessary to tell him of it. That is the inference which the erring brother himself draws. Now we are, to some extent, the keepers of our brother's soul, and if we do not use the means and the influences which we might use to free him from his faults, God will hold us accountable, partakers, a portion of the guilt attaches to us.

We may complain of this as hard if we choose, but this will not alter the case. There are two ways in which we can free ourselves from being partakers of other men's sins. The one is by living holy lives ourselves; the other, Christian reproof to them for their faults. Not only must our lives testify, but our lips. You would pardon the personal illustration. We were friends. Six years did we occupy the same desk and room together. A sin was fastening itself upon him, the general word for it is "tippling," fancy drinking. I remonstrated with him, as talented a student as ever was. He has long fallen from the Christian ministry, and his body lies in a drunkard's grave, one of the saddest experiences of my life. But one consolation,--I spoke to him words of Christian reproof. Would you be untarnished by the guilt of other men's sins, and blessed with a peace of conscience to be procured on no other terms, be faithful in the performance of this duty.

A second happy effect of the faithful performance of this duty is that it will prevent the evil of talebearing and backbiting. A prevalent, giant evil this, also in some of our churches among Christians. Anything that would remedy this evil ought to be hailed with gladness. God has brought His authority to bear on it in the direct command: "Thou shalt not go up and down in the land as a talebearer; thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor." The Lord Jesus Himself has laid down the law that Christians are not permitted to talk about the faults of others till they have gone to them and told them their faults alone. How much this rule is regarded some of our consciences can testify. But let it be done, and you will see how talebearing and backbiting will cease; for either as you go to the erring brother or sister in the spirit in which reproof ought to be administered you will find, in not a few instances, that you were mistaken, that the person is not guilty in the matter, as you had supposed, and then, of course, you cannot go about speaking of his fault; or if you find that he is actually at fault to the extent that you thought he was, he will no doubt, on faithful reproof, make an apology, and then, with what face can you go about talking to others of his fault? If there is anything distressing, causing permanent estrangement, discord, and heart-burning, it is to take up evil reports against each other, circulate them without ever going to the person incriminated, and inquiring into the truth or falsehood of what is spread. And this devilish work will cease or become rare, and the calumniator will be regarded as doing the work of his father, the devil, if Christians will faithfully perform the duty of reproof in the right spirit. To repeat,--if we have anything to say of a brother, let us say it first to him. Let us say nothing in his absence that we should be afraid to utter in his presence. And when any one comes with an evil report against another, let us refuse to listen to him, unless he can assure us that he has said all that he is going to utter to the person whom it most concerns. It will check, prevent the evil of talebearing. And to mention briefly one other blessed effect,--it will promote a feeling of brotherliness and promote prosperity of the congregation. To speak to a delinquent brother, give him to understand that he is missed and doing amiss, is to give him to understand, at the same time, that he is thought of, that we should like to have him to be what his own conscience testifies he ought to be; and this consideration, kindly and firmly made, cannot but make him, if he is not past all correction, feel attracted and attached toward those who are concerned about him. To keep the unity of spirit in the bonds of peace, to banish prejudice, hatred, to promote and build up a strong, solid, permanent church-body in which the members cling to each other, Christian reproof is a most valuable means. Christian reproof is something which deeply concerns the spiritual life and growth of a congregation.

To conclude: How far, Christian brethren, have we been faithful to the admonition of the text? Have you ever, since connected with this church, made one serious attempt to reclaim an erring brother or sister? There is, I know, a little of this spirit among us; may it prosper and grow, and the Lord will surely give His blessing. Amen.

TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.

And Jesus sat over against the treasury, and beheld how the
people cast money into the treasury. And many that were rich
cast in much. And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw
in two mites, which make a farthing. And He called unto Him His
disciples and saith unto them, Verily, I say unto you, That
this poor widow hath cast more in than all they which have cast
into the treasury. For all they did cast in of their abundance;
but she of her want did cast in all she had, even all her
living.--_Mark 12, 41-44._

The words just read from sacred story are the simple record of a pious deed performed more than a thousand years ago in the city of Jerusalem. It speaks of a poor woman modestly putting in her contribution into the treasury of the Temple. At the time to which the text refers the Savior had just silenced the cavils and objections of the scribes and Sadducees, as we heard in the Gospel of to-day, and was remaining in the temple a few moments longer and taking His seat near the place where the people were wont to deposit their offerings. As He watched the multitudes surging to and fro and with His all-seeing eye scanned the various depositors placing their gifts into the receptacle, He had nothing to say. But when a poor widow came along, unnoticed and overlooked, as the artists generally picture her, with a little one at her side and an infant upon her breast, and drops in her insignificant coin of two paltry mites, there was something that broke the current of His thoughts, and calling His disciples, He directed their attention to the humble gift and the unpretentious offerer.

Though that gorgeous Temple has long passed away, and the magnificent city is in ruins, that simple act of piety lives on, as fresh and beautiful as the moment of its performance. This Sunday has been set aside in the course of the church-year for the consideration of Christian beneficence. It is an eminently proper and legitimate topic, and one on which instruction and stirring up is needed the same as on any other. Some think such sermons aside from the Gospel, but that only shows how imperfect is their knowledge, and how important it is to bring the matter forth from the obscurity to which some would consign it. Paul frequently introduces it into his doctrinal epistles. The Savior Himself embraced in it many of His discourses, and it is difficult to see how any Christian minister is discharging his duty of faithfully and fully declaring the counsel of God to his people who fails betimes to give it a prominent place in his pulpit ministrations. Let us regard as our theme this morning: _The widow's mite, an encouraging model of Christian beneficence, observing_, _I, the motive why we should give_; _II. the measure and proportion in which we should give_; _III. the method how we should give_. May God bless the presentation of His Word!

First, the motive of giving. What prompted this poor widow to give? She had been worshiping in the Temple, had witnessed the beautiful and inspiring services, had been edified by the instruction of God's Word, her heart was warmed and stirred with appreciation for these spiritual blessings, and as she passes out with the throng and views the receptacle at the entrance, well knowing what it had been placed there for, she cannot resist, but under a sense of obligation, a strong feeling to reciprocate, and do something toward the maintenance of God's house, she draws forth two little coins and drops them in, then, more destitute of means, but richer in heart, proceeds on her way.

And the like motives ought to prevail with us. We confess in the Creed: "I believe that God has made me and all creatures, that He richly and daily provides me, that He defends me against all danger"; that Jesus Christ, our Lord, has redeemed us lost and condemned creatures; that the Holy Ghost has called us by the Gospel, enlightened us with His gifts, sanctifies and keeps us in the true faith; and for all that, what shall we render for God's gifts? His blessings are indeed always freely bestowed, without any merit or worthiness on our part; nevertheless, they call for gratitude, recognition, appreciation. And in consideration of gifts so unspeakable is any offering of gold, or frankincense, or myrrh too large? what ointment of spikenard too costly? The spirit of showing gratitude, as in the case of this widow, is one motive, and a most beautiful and God-honoring one, why we ought to give to Him: the honor of His name and the spread and prosperity of His cause--in His temple.