Chapter I: DWELL not on these words in their relation to the context. I pause not (2)

From the harmonised accounts we gather that a certain centurion, who had renounced the worship of the “gods many,” and become a proselyte of the gate, hearing of the miracles of JESUS, sent certain elders of the Jews to beseech the exercise of His healing power upon a favourite servant, who was grievously tormented, and at the point of death. He does not seem to have come at all himself. The deep sense which he entertained of personal unworthiness would alone have deterred him; and, besides, he knew that there was a middle wall of partition between Jews and Gentiles, and that as yet JESUS was not sent but unto the house of Israel. The elders, come to JESUS, seek to enlist His sympathy and active interest, by pleading that the centurion, though not actually a Jew, was a friend of Jews, and had done much for the support of the Jewish worship. “He is worthy for whom Thou shouldst do this, for he loveth our nation, and himself hath built us a synagogue. Come, then, and heal his servant.” JESUS replies, “I will come and heal him;” and straightway sets out with them. But when He was not far from the house, the centurion, alarmed at the temerity of his former request, and shrinking instinctively from One so high and so holy, sent some of those around him to prevent further condescension and trouble, on behalf of one so unworthy, and to suggest that JESUS should but express His will (which he felt must be omnipotent) from the spot where He stood: “Say in a word and my servant shall be healed.” The centurion had arrived at the knowledge of a great truth, namely, that CHRIST’S power was not confined to the scene of His bodily presence: and he described the process of reasoning by which he had arrived at it. “I am but a man, myself under authority, yet I have but to say, Go, come, do this, and, lo! it is done by my servants here, there, or wherever else I appoint, while I remain still. How much more shalt _Thou_ speak and be obeyed, Thou who art Absolute and Supreme in authority, Whose will all the spiritual armies of heaven observe, and are prompt and eager to perform. ‘Speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed.’” When JESUS heard it, He marvelled and said to them that followed, “Verily, I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel.” Twice we read that our LORD marvelled—once at unbelief, and once at belief. And this is no mere figurative statement. Our LORD literally marvelled. His human nature, much as He knew of what was in man, was taken aback by the unexpected and extraordinary display, in the one case of perverse blindness, in the other of clear spiritual perception. “Verily, I say unto you, I have not found so great faith.” It is remarkable that our LORD selects the centurion’s _faith_ for admiration. He dwells not on his care and anxiety for his slave, on his general good will and good deeds, on his consciousness of unworthiness, his resolute humility, “LORD, I am not worthy that thou shouldst come under my roof.” No! it is his faith, to which JESUS gives this highest praise. That while he walked among His own people, who were taught of GOD, and was haughtily and indignantly treated, yea, despised; that while Jews saw and albut felt His power, and refused to acknowledge it, a Gentile, at a distance, should be filled with reverential awe of Him, should assert so confidently the fulness of His power, should have such an insight into its spiritual working, should find and adduce proofs of that power and its working, to satisfy himself, to plead to CHRIST—this was, indeed, worthy of note; this was, as yet, unparalleled. “I have not found so great faith.”

We need not, however, suppose—in fact we must not suppose—that our LORD meant to omit the commendation of the centurion’s other good qualities: rather as they were all the fruits of faith, were they all praised in the praise of faith. Why did he love the Jews—why did he build them a synagogue—why did he seek miraculous healing for his servant—why did he employ Jewish elders as his intercessors—why did he, an important Roman officer, feel unworthy of the company of a wandering Jewish peasant? Was it not through faith? faith in the true GOD, faith in the laws of His worship, faith in His awful holiness, and no less in His merciful goodness, faith in His manifestation in JESUS of Nazareth? Yes, it was all of faith, and it was all admired and praised when JESUS marvelled and said, “I have not found so great faith.” But still the highest faith—the thing most marvelled at and chiefly commended, was the spiritual perception of a bodily unseen LORD, the belief in His unlimited, and, under all circumstances, available power. “I have never seen Thee: yet I know Thee who Thou art. Thou art not here, yet with a word Thou canst cause Thy power to be here, and to accomplish here all Thy will.” Blessed are they that have not seen and yet have believed: and blessed are they precisely in the way of their own wise choice, “Go thy way; and as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee.” It was great honour given to CHRIST. It was the opportunity of a wondrous manifestation, and so we read, “The servant was healed in the selfsame hour.”

But shall we suppose that the centurion, by his humility and his faith, deprived himself of the bliss of receiving CHRIST, that CHRIST, _therefore_, turned away, and thought no more of him? Even in that case he would not have been without his reward. The servant, who was dear to him, was preserved and healed, the Jews, whom he loved, must have honoured and loved him, when he had thus prevailed with GOD, and, besides, what a conviction was his of the power of CHRIST, what a token of approval, in the fact that he had, as it were, proposed his own conditions for a miracle, and those conditions had been graciously accepted and fulfilled! He needed no vision after this to prove to him that JESUS was the Son of GOD; no voice from heaven to speak to him comfort and assurance of hope. He had sought CHRIST. He had found Him and been found of Him. Great was his reward; and his joy such as could not be taken away. He would have been greatly blessed, then, had no more been done for him. But did that CHRIST, Who bestows such honour on humility, Who so loves them that love Him and His, Who has made the best of His promises, yea, all of them to faith, did He, think you, give no further token, no higher blessedness to that centurion? Did He not rather prove to him, that he had made a wise choice, that he had chosen the best kind of blessing, in asking for spiritual presence rather than bodily presence? Did He not manifest Himself to him, in that peculiar way of which the world knows, and can know nothing? Did He not go, He and the Father, and make spiritual and permanent abode with him? Yes, surely, this is all implied in the words, “Go thy way; and as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee.”

This view of the subject has its evident lessons and promises for us. Be it ours, brethren, to learn and practice the lessons, and doubt not but GOD will fulfil to us the promises.

In dismissing now the general subject, and attempting only to deduce practical instruction from the words of the text, I would ask you to notice first, the kind of answer which prayer gets; it is blessed in the way it asks to be blessed. When the elders besought our LORD that He would come and heal the servant, then we read, He went with them. When presently the centurion, through his friends, urges, “Speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed,” then CHRIST stays His own progress, and sends on His grace. “Go thy way; and as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee.”

It is thus that prayer is generally answered: what we ask for, that we obtain. _Generally_, I say, yet not always; for our wise and good LORD, when, in our ignorance, we prefer a wrong or a foolish request, sends us rather what He knows us to need, than what we ask. A father does not give his beloved son stone for bread, nor a scorpion instead of a fish. And it may be, yea, it often is the case, that we ask GOD for what we think would support us, or be of some other benefit to us, when its bestowal would cause us to stumble, or, perhaps, crush our spiritual strength, or poison our spiritual life. And then, I say, of His wisdom and goodness, He sends us away _not empty_—oh, no! none ask of GOD and obtain not, if they ask with right feeling—but blessed in a different way from that we ventured to prescribe. This truth is worth a little more thought. There are many of you, brethren, I doubt not, who have again and again prayed to GOD (and very earnestly) to continue to you some blessing which you were in danger of losing, or to confer upon you something which you felt you wanted, and who yet were not answered according to the prayer. Perhaps, you were failing in business, or your influence was being diminished, or your health breaking down, or your child dying. Well, you earnestly, humbly, with faith and strong tears deprecated the calamity again and again; but still it came upon you as though you had never prayed; or you asked to be lifted out of your poverty or your misery, to be endowed with wisdom, to be made influential; you loved, and prayed GOD to make you loved again; you struggled to get a situation which was just what you needed, you prayed continually that you might succeed. It was all without avail. “No answer came.”

No answer came! Say not that, brethren. Assuredly, an answer did come, if you prayed aright. It may be that you did not get what you wanted, or keep what was departing; for GOD knew your choice was an unwise one, and therefore of His love would not grant it. But He gave you a compensation, and more than a compensation. Just as when CHRIST prayed that the cup of His last agony might pass from Him. GOD rather strengthened Him from heaven to endure the agony, and made it His way to glory—so, when you have deprecated, or besought, against the will of GOD choosing for you, He has enabled you to bear the calamity, to do without the thing coveted, and has made all to work for your good. What He does it may be you know not now, but you shall know hereafter. And when in heaven’s light you see that the continued or bestowed prosperity would have made you proud and ungodly, that power or influence (though you meant it not) would have been perverted by you to your ruin, that the child taken away, had it remained, would have destroyed itself, and been a curse to you, that the disappointment, and the toil, and the suffering, which you so prayed against, were just the things that planted and nurtured in you Christian graces, and worked out for your glory—oh! then you will see that GOD did answer your prayers, and you will bless him fervently for sending His own answer instead of the one you dictated.

Meantime, in the light of this hope, remember always to add to your prayers for specific blessings the holy proviso, “Nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt.”

But I said that generally, whenever, that is, there is no harm to ourselves in what we ask, GOD gives us what we pray for; and I produced proofs, which might be multiplied manifold that it is so. “Go thy way; and as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee.” Surely this is worth a thought; not only, or chiefly, as showing us GOD’S marvellous condescension and the efficacy of prayer, but as admonishing us that the height, the amount, the nature of our blessedness, depends upon ourselves, upon what we ask in prayer. What a solemn consideration is this! GOD sits upon His heavenly throne, with listening ear and outstretched hands; angels wait to waft our supplications to His presence, the Holy Spirit to make intercession for us, the blessed Son to present our cause and plead it! It only remains for us to ask. Whatever we ask, if we are faithful, if it is good, we shall receive. What we ask not, that we shall not receive. Think of that, brethren! Call to mind, as far as you can, what kind of prayers you have been wont to make. Review your past and present state. In anything are you spiritually unblessed? Have you only an inferior blessedness? Ah! have you not all that you prayed for? Lack you not just that, which you never faithfully sought? This life, and the things of this life, have been often in your thoughts, and in your prayers, for yourselves and for others. You have prayed that GOD would preserve you, that He would defend you from danger and gross temptation, that He would give you health, and comfort, and earthly blessing, that He would protect and prosper those you love. You have not prayed much for spiritual blessings, or you have been content with supplicating inferior spiritual blessings. A clean heart, a renewed mind, lively faith, heavenly peace, joy in the Holy Ghost,—if these are not yours, do you not know why? It is because you never asked for them, or, at least, never asked with that appreciation, that earnestness which alone prevails with GOD. GOD is willing to give them. GOD has promised to give them. He stands ever ready to fulfil His promise. But, nevertheless, for these things he will be inquired of. The measure of the expressed desire is the measure of the supply. Nothing less, in most cases nothing different, and always nothing more, may you expect from GOD, than that which you ask. O let the knowledge of this truth kindle in you desires, and teach you words wherewith to approach GOD. Miss not His choicest gifts for want of asking. Prefer not for yourselves that which is earthy, and poor, and fleeting. Thrust not away—and you do thrust away, if you do not woo—perfect spiritual blessedness. When next you kneel before GOD, whenever henceforth you kneel before Him, remember that while He is the owner and ready-giver of all good gifts, it is yet only what you ask that you will receive of Him. As thou hast believed, so shall it be done unto thee.

But, secondly, it is faith we see which gives force to prayer. “As thou hast believed.” “Whatsoever ye ask, believing, ye shall receive.” “Let him ask in faith, nothing wavering.” “Let not him that wavereth think that he shall receive anything of the LORD.” GOD would have us wait on Him, with confidence in His sufficiency, with sure expectation that He will give what we ask. If we lack this confidence and this expectation; if we make formal, rather than eager and hopeful requests; if we have any misgivings as to the answer; if we secretly resolve what we will do, if there is no answer; if we wait not, and watch not, for the answer, then, brethren, we forfeit the blessing. GOD heareth not such—we virtually ask Him not to answer us. We mock Him with the idle form of prayer. O ye who ask GOD for guidance, at the same time questioning yourselves as to what ye shall do—ye that pray against temptation, and forthwith yield to it—ye that profess to cast care upon GOD, all the while being full of cares—ye that beseech Him to help you, yet go on helping yourselves—ye that pray, and live as though you had not prayed, that call upon GOD, but wait not for his answer—ye that are not certain, that feel not the certainty, and act not, or forbear from acting upon it, that what you ask you shall obtain, be sure that you shall go empty away, and that because of your unbelief. It is hollow formalism, it is fearful trifling, it is blasphemous mockery, to ask without faith, without sure calculation upon receiving. You dare not treat an earthly friend so. You shall not, with impunity, treat GOD so! Ah! here is the explanation of unanswered prayer—prayer for that which is desirable and right—it was not offered in faith; the answer was not expected, and relied on; the life did not manifest expectation and reliance! Would you indeed receive anything from GOD? Prefer your request, in full acknowledgment of GOD’S ability, in faithful trust in His performance of all that you ask according to His will, and show your faith by utter renunciation of all self-guidance and self-dependence, by patient waiting, by steadfast resistance of all that GOD forbids, and persevering pursuit of all that He commands. Impress this upon yourselves as the spirit of your prayer, and the rule of your lives. Make yourselves such as GOD hears. Cleanse yourselves by the power of His grace from sin, that you may be allowed to approach Him. Arm yourselves with the godly resolution that, come what will, you will serve the LORD; and seek, above all, His kingdom and the righteousness thereof. Examine yourselves, your peculiar wants and difficulties, that you may inform your prayers, and make them pointed and particular, expressing what you need and desire. Then offer them, with felt unworthiness, with holy adoration, in the certain conviction that He hears you, that He can supply your need, that He will supply it; and take to yourselves such just consolation and assurance, and let your life manifest them, as if CHRIST, Who cannot lie and cannot fail, had audibly declared to you, “Go thy way; and as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee.”

SERMON XI. CHRIST STILLING THE STORM.

ST. MATTHEW, VIII., 26.

_And He saith unto them_, _Why are ye fearful_, _O ye of little
faith_? _Then He arose_, _and rebuked the winds and the sea_; _and
there was a great calm_.

IT was after a day of laborious teaching, that our LORD to escape for a time from the crowds that thronged Him, to obtain rest and quiet, perhaps to exercise His ministry in other places, commanded the disciples to steer the ship, in which He had been teaching, across the sea of Galilee, and to convey Him to the other side. Immediately, it would appear, that they set out, He laid Himself down and fell asleep. Partaking of human nature in its infirmity, though not in its sin, He was worn out with labour, and absolutely required, yea, hastened to rest. He sunk into a deep sleep, then, as soon as He assumed the posture of repose. But anon, a storm arose. One of those squalls (which so often come down upon lakes surrounded by mountains) suddenly filled the air with boisterous wind, and so upraised and agitated the waves, that they dashed over the ship, and threatened it with destruction. The disciples, many of whom were fishermen, and others accustomed to occupy their business upon or beside the water, must have been too familiar with storms to be easily frightened. The darkening clouds, the howling wind, the troubled water, would, of course, arouse them to energy, warning them that they were in danger, and requiring them to watch and labour to save themselves; and so we can well imagine them running hither and thither, with anxious looks, loosing or furling the sails, as might be necessary; avoiding quicksands, and rocks, and shallow places; lightening the ship of dangerous burthens; directing their course by the safest way, to the haven where they would be. But either they must have been sorry sailors, with coward hearts, which we are not willing to believe, or their courage must have been overcome by very unusual and imminent danger, ere they would have rushed to their Master, and cried to Him, in terror, “LORD, save us, we perish!” or, in rash reproach, “Carest thou not, that we perish?” Yes! I say, there must have been unusual and imminent danger, and even something more—some supernatural portent—thus to strike with terror, thus to fill with despair.

However this may be, they cried unto the LORD, and the LORD heard them. He had slept calmly through the roar of the wind—yea, even while the waves washed over Him; but the cry of distress entered quickly into His ear, and He awoke to answer it. “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?” were His awakening words. This is not a rebuke for coming to Him; they had done right therein. He would presently prove it by the miracle He would work for them. Neither is it an assertion that there was no real danger, that they had been too easily alarmed: for an inspired Evangelist, St. Luke, writing long afterwards, in the light of what CHRIST now said and did, expressly states that the vessel was filled with water, and that they were in danger. No; it is an acknowledgment of the danger, but it is also a pledge that it should be averted, and it is a tender reproach for not being confident of deliverance. “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?” Am not I with you? Do not I know your wants? Have I not power and will to relieve them? Where is your faith, in the prophecies of what I have yet to do, that you suppose I am now to perish? Where is the confidence which becomes my followers?—which others, with less knowledge and encouragement, less ground of hope, have so fully shown. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.” Yea, though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him! Thus He reproves, and calms, and assures them in their trouble, and then He proceeds to deliver them out of it. “He arose”—we read—“and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm.” It was a wondrous manifestation of His Majesty. It was a gracious condescension to infirmity. It was a proof, too palpable to be resisted, too marvellous to be forgotten, that He is able to keep, and that He will keep, in safety and in peace, those whose minds are staid on Him, who commit themselves to His keeping. Well may the disciples, in the awful stillness of that calm, have been filled as much with reverential fear as with admiration. “They feared exceedingly, and said one to another, What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?” They had witnessed several of His epiphanies: they had tasted of the water made wine; they had seen the leper cleansed; and had, at least, heard on reliable testimony, that the centurion’s servant was restored—yea, in the early evening of this very day, just before they left the shore, JESUS had been casting out evil spirits, with His word, and had healed all the sick that were brought to Him: but in their eyes (whether they were right or wrong concerns us not now) this was a greater miracle, greater in extent, greater in power, greater in the suddenness, the certainty (felt by themselves, remember, as no other had been) and the peace and joy of its effect. Much must it have informed their worship, much must it have increased their faith. Power did it give them to proclaim hereafter that they knew in whom they had believed, patience to endure for His sake, in His strength; peace in persecution, comfort in sorrow, hope amidst otherwise confounding terrors and dismay, that they had actually experienced CHRIST’S salvation from destruction; that the experience had been vouchsafed them as a pledge of His constant care; that they had been told, on its account, to trust—never henceforth to be fearful, and of little faith!

Of great importance, then, was that miracle of the Stilling of the Storm, if it meant no more, and accomplished no more than this: if it only showed, that on a large, as on a small scale, over elements, as well as over diseases, on the sea no less than on the land, JESUS was “mighty to save”; if it only furnished the eye-witnesses of His ministry with a great instance of His gracious power; if it only prepared them for their life of storms and difficulties, and supported them in their dangers and distresses, and kept them faithful and joyful.

But, surely, it has more meaning, and more worth, than this.

First, it reveals to us, if I mistake not, a contention between spiritual powers (the Son of GOD on the one side, the Devil on the other), followed by a victory of the good, and a conspicuous defeat of the evil. That was no accidental raging of wind and waves, that was no operation of the GOD of providence using the elements to accomplish good purposes which was rebuked by the voice of the Son of GOD. Rebuke would be meaningless addressed to mere wind and wave: it would be blasphemous addressed to GOD. It is only when speaking to the Devil, to fevers and distempers, the effects of demoniacal possession, to Peter or others, prompted by Satan, speaking his words, doing his work, that CHRIST uses rebuke. Here then, surely, Satan was at work, and here he was confounded! The enemy of souls had never ceased to watch and seek to destroy the Saviour. He had stirred up Herod against Him in His infancy. He had personally assailed Him in the wilderness. He was now using the elements, over which much power is often allowed him, as we see in Job’s case, as his agents of evil. But with all his wisdom and perception, he knew not what was in JESUS. He thought once that he could as easily have made Him sceptical as he did Eve, “hath GOD said,” “If Thou be the Son of Man.” He thought now that while the Son of Man slept he was unconscious and powerless. And so in his folly he sought to wreck the vessel, and overwhelm Him whom it carried in the depths of the sea. Attempting this, he did but give occasion for an additional manifestation of CHRIST’S mission and power to destroy him and his works. On the shore, before He started, CHRIST had cast out devils. On the shore for which He was making He would again cast them out. On the sea He now meets them, and confounds them. O what a mighty, what a galling conquest! Satan had let loose all the powers of the winds, he had lashed the waves into utmost fury, the disciples were dismayed, the Saviour was asleep, the ship was sinking. “Only a few moments,” doubtless, he exultingly thought, “and there shall be a second destruction of man, the kingdom shall surely become mine, for there will be none to dispute it”—when, lo! the LORD arose, and, with a word, made him undo the work he had done. “Peace be still;” and the wind ceased, and there was a great calm! O signal defeat! O earnest of the promise that the head of the serpent shall be bruised, that Satan himself shall be bound and trodden under foot, and cast into the lake of fire, and shall deceive and vex no more. Surely, this is one of the chief scenes, one of the most mysterious and important events, one of the most glorious manifestations of CHRIST’S life on earth.

But this is not all its significance. The miracles of our LORD were acted parables—types of spiritual things—rather outward signs, not themselves to be given up, but thereafter to be accompanied by inward grace.

The ship on the sea of Galilee represents the Christian Church, or the individual member of it. The sea is the world; the storm, with its adverse wind and difficult waves, figures the trials, the buffetings, the persecutions, the fears of this mortal life; the disciples are the types of weak yet willing human nature—both our warnings and our examples; and CHRIST is Himself, yet, so to speak, but a figure of the true, dwelling in His Church in each faithful member, often apparently unheeding, unconscious, yet always our sure defence and deliverer, prompt to hear when called upon, able to comfort, mighty to save.

That entry into the ship, and sailing forth into the sea, represents our first journey, and each renewed journey to CHRIST, in Baptism, in Confirmation, in Holy Communion, in every fresh repentance, every vow, every act of worship. Forth we go with Him. All is calm and hopeful. We seem to have to journey over quiet waters. The shore of Heaven is straight before us, and we are making for it. But, as soon as we set out, our envious, deadly enemy, hating our LORD, and hating us, plots our destruction, and assays its accomplishment. Soon trouble takes the place of peace, winds of adversity toss and try us, hope begins to pale, terror to dismay, the waters go even over our soul, and He who should calm us, and sustain and cheer us, seems to have fallen asleep, to help us not, to take no notice of us. It is the hour of GOD’S trial, of the Devil’s temptation! What shall we do? If we are wise sailors, like as I have supposed the disciples to have done, we shall meet the occasion with well-directed energy; we shall keep the vessel away from the quicksands of pleasure, the shallows of pride, the rocks of offence, and the whirlpools of sin. We shall cast out the weight that drags us down, sloth, indifference, besetting sin. We shall bear up against the boisterous winds of adversity. We shall resolutely and perseveringly pursue the straight course through the waters, making for, looking for the shore. Unless we do all this, we have no right to hope. But we must take care, lest in, ay, even by doing it, we lose our hope. Satan destroys many because they make no effort to save themselves; but he destroys quite as many because they rely on their own efforts. It is a fact that we can do nothing by ourselves; that human wisdom, self-reliant, is sure to be confounded, and human effort, independent, to be paralysed. But even if for the time we see what is right, and are successful in doing it, he will enshroud us in such horrible darkness, he will fill our ears with such dismal sounds, he will so toss and bewilder and overwhelm us, that presently weariness, perplexity, and despair will cause us to give up, to consent to our own destruction. The disciples in that storm-tossed ship seem to have been bringing themselves well nigh into this ruin, first to have relied on themselves, and then to have despaired of themselves, all the while forgetting Who was with them, Who should have been their guide, Who was their sure protector, when, all at once, before it was too late, they remembered and aroused Him, and called Him to their aid. It was their bliss to find that “the saint’s extremity is GOD’S opportunity;” that it is never too late, before destruction, to call upon Him and be saved; but they were not allowed to enjoy this bliss unmixed with reproach for self-confidence and for want of confidence in Him. In all the storms and dangers which beset us on the sea of life, let us take example from the disciples to call upon Him who can save us, and let us also take warning from them, not to forget His company, or to suppose that He forgets us.

Such seems to be a sketch of the interpretation of the meaning and instruction for us of this acted parable.

And now, brethren, having learnt the general truth, let us pick out and dwell upon some of its particulars.

And first, in setting out with CHRIST, expect storms and dangers. We are too apt to suppose that the war of life is to be waged only with men, that the storms of life are only encountered in temporal things. We can well understand that it was otherwise, that it must have been otherwise, with the first founders of the Church, with confessors in the face of unbelieving Jews and heathen Romans, with the Reformers, with missionaries now: but in our own case we calculate on a smooth and safe journey over the sea of time to the shore of eternity, ay, and after many days, experience, we say, confirms our calculation. No sore temptations try us; no conflict of good and evil principles tosses and tears us; no despair threatens to drown us. We have trouble enough in the world, in earning our daily bread, in claiming and maintaining our own, in becoming rich, or powerful, or famous, in ruling those who rebel against our just authority, who would gainsay our words, and frustrate our efforts. But in spiritual things this is not the case. We find it easy (I speak that which the manifest lives and apparent feelings of what are called respectable men justify my speaking) to follow the course which we would in religion—we worship in church, we read the Bible and pray at home without opposition. It costs us no trouble to keep the letter of GOD’S chief commandments. We know nothing of spiritual wrestling, spiritual fear, spiritual despondency. Why should we? Our ways are mainly upright; our consciences not afraid, our duty plain and simple; and in CHRIST, therefore, our hope sure. I know that men think this (at least they do not think otherwise), and in their lives they act it, even if they dare not shape it into words. But, brethren, if it is so with you, look to it, for the calm is more deadly than the storm. The Devil is the inveterate enemy and the untiring assailant of CHRIST and Christians. His whole being and energy are concentrated in the aim and effort to bury the ark of CHRIST in the sea of eternal destruction. If, then, you pass over that sea, and are enshrouded by no darkness, beaten by no winds, tossed by no billows, be sure that it is because CHRIST is not in your company. That Church has had its candlestick removed, which dwells in security, peaceful and prosperous; and that individual has not CHRIST for the tenant of his heart who experiences not what the storm-tossed vessel typified. Satan is intent upon destroying every one that is CHRIST’S. If he attempts not your destruction, it is because he does not consider you CHRIST’S—and, remember, though he is not all-wise, he is as an angel, and an archangel in perception—because your vessel bears not CHRIST; because you are on no journey with CHRIST to cast out evil spirits and drive them over steep places into the sea. O, my brethren, it is an awful sign, a death-boding distinction, when Satan lets us alone in this sea of life, and deems it unnecessary to keep us by violent efforts from reaching heaven. It is the expression of his informed and deliberate judgment that we are not going thither! O ye who dwell at ease and glide smoothly along the journey of life, put back, take CHRIST on board, and joy when you find in yourselves the signs of His presence, the assaults of Satan, the warring within you of good and evil, the stirrings of conscience, the flutterings of spiritual fear. I do not mean become morbid, and delight in what is mournful and terrible; but suspect and refuse the peace which Satan offers without contest, and determine to have only that which in CHRIST’S strength you win and maintain.

Next, consider the meaning of CHRIST’S lying asleep in the storm, and interfering not to control it, till so earnestly called up.

In providence and in grace GOD delights, so to speak, to hide Himself, though He exhibits the results of His works. He is the Author of every gift, and the Ruler and Promoter of its use; but He puts it into our hands as His agents, and bids us with it accomplish His will. As the heart is the fountain of the blood which flows through our members, as it is bone and muscle that give strength to the arm, so is GOD the Source of grace to the soul, and the prevailing Power of our efforts. Still, it is not Himself prominently and foremost that does the work in the world, but we from and by Him. The explanation of this economy seems to be, first, that He would have us walk by faith—remembering Him, relying on Him, working for Him—rather than by right, constrained, whether we will or not, without feeling or desire, or dependence, to see, and admit, and feel His power. And, secondly, that He would give us an individuality, a certain dependent independence, which shall make us feel personal responsibility, and allow us to deserve (in a sense) the recompense of personal effort. Thus, He leaves the fool to say, There is no GOD, and rewards the faithful by revealing Himself to belief. Thus, while there is a GOD, while He is not far from us, while in Him we live and move and have our being, we are required and stimulated to seek Him, to feel after Him, and find Him. Besides, or more properly _therefore_, we have to call upon Him before He answers. Even when He had determined, and declared His determination, to bless the Israelites, He made the condition, “Nevertheless, for these things I will be inquired of.” He would have us live by spiritual dependence. He would have us communicate to Him our wants. He would have us draw down by prayer the supply. And this He effects by making it a law, that He will know nothing of us, at least know nothing so as to heed for our good, but what we tell Him, and will give us nothing but what we ask. I have so lately enlarged upon this subject that I will add nothing upon it now, but to bid you remember the necessity and the power of prayer.

Lastly, consider what is taught by that remonstrance, spoken in the interval between awaking and acting, “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?” I have already said that CHRIST did not disapprove the prayer, but only the fear which had preceded it, the poverty of the faith which accompanied it. Neither did He demand of the disciples the impossibility of being undisturbed in the midst of such perturbation. It is natural—natural even to the Christian full of grace, to be affected by the circumstances which attend him. CHRIST was so affected Himself, as His prayers, and shrinkings, and watchings, and open teaching assure us. He, who wept at human misery, though He was just going to put it to flight; He, who shrank from the trial which He had deliberately and of choice encountered, has sanctioned and recommended (shall I say enforced?) by His example the same feelings in His disciples. He does not forbid us to be human, but only requires us to leaven humanity with godliness. Trials we are to have, and trials we ought to feel. To be stolid and callous is to be unchristian, for none ever felt trials as CHRIST did. But in our trials, while we feel, and weep, and shrink, we are not to be faint-hearted. We are to know in Whom we have believed. We are, therefore, to bear them, and submit to them; but we are not to be overpowered by them. We are not to allow them to exercise such an influence as to make us forget that there is One greater than the storm, Who rules it even in its wildest raging, Who will cause it to cease when it is fitting, Who will not allow it to overwhelm us if we are dependent on Him in its continuance, if we hope in Him to stay it. Terrible is the darkness of the sky, powerful is the violence of the wind, drenching are the waves, but the ship shall not sink, for CHRIST is in it. Whatever, then, the terrors and the trouble of the present, we have hope, we have confidence in the future. “Why art thou so cast down O my soul, and why art thou so disquieted within me? Hope in GOD for I shall yet praise Him, Who is the health of my countenance and my GOD.”

Such is the teaching of CHRIST’S remonstrance. And the time of its utterance, the delay to assuage the storm, teaches this further lesson, that in this life CHRIST will give us comfort in trouble, but not necessarily deliverance out of trouble. By and by He will indeed deliver us. But the best blessing here is not immunity, but trust and support. There is a peace in war, a joy in sorrow, a strength in weakness, with which the world and the Devil cannot intermeddle. Seek we this, and be sure we are wanting in what CHRIST delights to afford, if we have it not. But having it, bear we patiently, thankfully, all outward commotion, faithfully expecting the time, when openly, as already inwardly, CHRIST shall arise and command “Peace be still,” and there shall be a great and abiding calm.

SERMON XII. UNITY WITH PEACE.

EPHESIANS, IV., 1, 2, 3.

_I_, _therefore_, _the prisoner of the_ LORD, _beseech you that ye
walk worthy of the calling wherewith ye are called_, _With all
lowliness and meekness_, _with longsuffering_, _forbearing one
another in love_; _Endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in
the bond of peace_.

IT was the prayer of our Blessed LORD—what an earnest prayer it was, delivered in what solemn and affecting circumstances—that all His disciples might be one, even as He and the Father were one. He had laboured to secure this oneness, by teaching them that there was the same truth for all to receive, and the same work for all to do. Individual fancies and theories were not to be indulged, where the whole teaching was of GOD; pride was not to exercise itself where everything was received, and nothing earned; ambition was checked, by being told that, by seeking, it should lose, that he who would be first should be last. All were equal in position, all equal in privileges. In serving one another, in preferring one another—by this alone could they please GOD; in this way only could they reach unto eminence. Devoted to a common LORD, directed by a common revelation, enabled by a common grace, exercised in a common work, cheered by a common hope, surrounded with common trials and difficulties—what could there be within, without, past, present, or future, which should prevent them from all thinking the same thoughts and doing the same works, sinking the individual in the company, clinging to one another, labouring together, knit together in a holy bond—“One LORD, one faith, one baptism, one GOD and Father of all, Who is above all, and through all, and in all.” To think for oneself, what was it but to reject GOD’S truth; to act independently, but to forsake their appointed work; not to serve and love the brethren, not to serve and love the LORD; to separate from the Christian company, to go away from CHRIST?

Even if the Spirit had not been given to effect this unity, if the Gospel had not enforced it by the plainest denunciation of heresies and schisms—crimes classed by it with the worst and lowest, and most certain to exclude from heaven; even if CHRIST had never prayed for their union, nor taught them that they were to be united, still, if the disciples of religion were like the followers of any other cause, it might have been expected—it would have seemed morally impossible that it should be otherwise—that the remembrance and love of their Master, the cause which they had taken up, the knowledge of the way in which alone it could be furthered, their common relationship, and interests, and aims, and hopes, would have kept them in one body, would have bound them fast to each other in the bonds of peace. And, doubtless, it would have been so, but for the influence and machinations of the evil one. There could have been no other fruit from such seed, but that the enemy sowed tares in the same field. In CHRIST, self had been denied and destroyed. His Church was to be the embodiment and propagator of self-denial, self-submission, self-devotion. Such a Church threatened antichrist with certain destruction: for antichrist is the spirit of self—and selfishness destroyed, where would be sin? Therefore, the Devil sought to break up or mar and impair the Church; and, to accomplish his object, infused into as many of its members as he could, the very spirit of self, which it was commissioned to destroy. Alas! he was too successful in his fell work. Soon self began to ask, “Why should I not choose what to believe—what to do? Why should I not make to myself a name, and claim for myself authority, and power, and reverence? Why should I not have private views, and seek private ends? Why should I suffer, and forbear, and seek another’s good, rather than my own?” The selfish question was father to the selfish determination; and so, even in the Apostles’ time, the faith was mutilated here and denied there—there were heresies, and schisms, and strifes, and boastings of spiritual gifts, and withholding of temporal substance from GOD, and indulgence of lusts, and hatings, and revengings, and backbitings, and fightings, and denying of one another, among those who were all called with one calling, enlightened and sanctified by one Spirit, appointed to “keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” And so it has continued to the present time. There is no such reasoning, and questioning, and quibbling, and deciding for oneself what to believe, about any other subject, as about the truth, which GOD has plainly taught and has clearly defined. There are no other divisions so numerous, so lamentable, so strife-begotten, and strife-engendering, as in the one body of CHRIST. Pride, and ambition, and self-seeking, in all its worst forms; evil suspicions, revilings, hatred, persecutions, have abounded, and do abound, and boldly manifest themselves in that very community whence self was to be expelled! Many antichrists are in the world, but as many in the Church. The very heathen repel our attempts to convert them, by bidding us first agree what to believe ourselves. The worst of men say they have a right to despise us for our bitter jealousies and disliking of one another; and the taunt is common, and has been in some measure provoked, that religion is only a mask, a cloak to hide men’s basest passions and worst deeds.

It may be urged—it ought to be urged—that this is not altogether the fault of Christians. It was the will of GOD that the goats should be allowed to mingle with the sheep, that the tares should not be rooted out from among the wheat, that the net should contain small as well as great, worthless as well as good fishes. Hence they are “not all Israel, who are of Israel.” And so the bad feelings and deeds, the things which are an offence and a reproach in Christendom, are to be charged not altogether to CHRIST’S true followers, but to those who only in name are Christians—to the world, in fact, intruding into, and mixing itself up with, the Church.

Yes; this is so. The world has sought and found scope in the Church for the wild exercise of its reason, for profane speculations, and whimsical fancies; for self-indulgence, too, in all its forms; for lusts, and strifes, and false accusations, and enmities, and wickedness, of every hue and measure. The worst heretics and schismatics, the fiercest persecutors, the bitterest accusers of the brethren, are evidently not true followers, even in intention, of CHRIST; they are not rebels and traitors, “they are not of us,” they belong to the enemy, and have stolen into our camp; and are now mixing themselves with us, and confounding, and harassing, and misguiding us, as part of the subtle warfare which is being waged by Satan against us. But still, alas! we are not clear. Too many who deserve to be called something better than nominal Christians, too many—ay, even of the best of us—make no endeavour—that is worthy of the name—to keep the unity of the Spirit; or, if they strive for unity, forget the bond of peace.

It is very common to find a man who has been at much pains to find out for himself the doctrines and requirements of Christianity, who heartily accepts every article of the creed, who is scrupulously exact in keeping all the ordinances, who would think himself guilty of no ordinary sin, if he frequented the place of worship of another sect, or contributed of his substance to their cause, who is yet all the while utterly indifferent to the fact that almost every article of his creed, and every ordinance of his Church, is ignored, and even denounced by some one or other of the many bodies of men calling themselves Christian communities. He thinks it no business of his to defend the faith, or to vindicate the ordinances. Let every man look to himself, is his maxim, and leave others alone; or, perhaps, if he is momentarily interested in the matter, if a wish springs up that it were otherwise, he soothes himself, and spares himself further anxiety and labour, by suggesting that Christian charity would not interfere with another’s liberty. “These others,” he reasons, “have a religion, and follow it. It is not altogether the same as mine, but it is in many respects like it, perhaps in all essentials. At any rate, it is better than none; it would be presumptuous to suppose that they may not be saved by it. Therefore, if I must help in proselytizing any, it shall not be these mainly right, but the godless, the followers of no religion!”

Now, brethren, such a man is utterly in fault: he is incurring the Apostle’s reproach of being carnal, in allowing divisions; he is offending against the very Christian charity which he thinks he is exercising; he is unconcerned about the due honour of GOD; he is disobeying the injunction to endeavour “to keep the unity of the Spirit.” The question is not, whether a man can be saved in heresy or schism, but whether any Christian, who honours GOD and loves the brethren, ought to wink at heresy or schism? And the answer is plain—he ought not! Is GOD honoured, is He pleased, when the creature, to whom He reveals Himself, says, in effect, Thus much of the Divine account I will accept; the rest I do not like, cannot reconcile with my private pre-conceived notions, cannot see to be reasonable, therefore, I reject it? Is GOD obeyed, when His servant, instead of fulfilling His whole will, sets aside capriciously, or for some selfish reason, certain positive precepts of that will? Is any Christian in a certainly accepted and safe state, or in the way to it, who does not use, who ignores the need of, prescribed means of cleansing and sanctifying? And if he is not, how far is it charitable, to let him remain as he is, without concern? My brethren, we all recognise it as the duty of every Christian to promote the knowledge and acceptance of the truth. Can we be said to discharge this duty, if we care not about the mutilation or distortion of the truth? We all acknowledge that we ought to love one another, to have fervent charity among ourselves. Is it charitable—is it not culpably selfish—to have, as we believe, the best, if not the only, right faith—and not to be concerned that others have it not? Is it not, too, strangely perverse to admit, that those in separation are brethren, fellow-pilgrims, fellow-heirs, to hope to meet them in heaven, and to think, and feel, and live in perfect harmony with them for ever; and yet here not to be concerned that we never can give them the right hand of fellowship—cannot journey with them, and help, and make for the inheritance together—can never even meet them in prayer and communion—must let them be as utter strangers? In earthly matters none of this would be tolerated, could possibly be. Why, then, can it be—why is it in religion? Because we are not jealous enough for the honour of GOD, because we do not truly love the brethren, because we do not endeavour to keep the unity of the Spirit!