Chapter II: Part 2

III. That the imputed righteousness of Christ is of itself perfect and sufficient. This is plainly the truth denied in the decree above quoted. Justification is there ascribed in part to the imputation of Christ’s righteousness, but this alone is said to be insufficient. The article of our church and this decree have evident reference to each other. The article says “We are accounted righteous before God _only_ for the merit of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.” The Council of Trent “If any man shall say that men are justified by the _sole_ imputation of Christ’s righteousness, let him be accursed.” The turning point, therefore, of the whole question is the _complete_ sufficiency of the work of Christ.

1. Consider, then, his atonement. {31} “He died, the just for the unjust, to bring us to God.” He was our substitute, he took our place, he endured the curse of our guilt, “he bare our sins in his own body on the tree.” Was the price sufficient, or was it not? Was the substitute accepted, or was it not? Was the law satisfied, or was it not? If it was, the atonement was complete, the believer free, and no further justification through righteousness can be required. If not, of this one thing I am persuaded, that nothing we can do can supply the deficiency of the work of Jesus. No tears, no toils, no fastings, penances, or alms deeds can supply that which is lacking in the price paid for the sinner. If we were to weep till the ocean overflowed with the swelling tide of penitential tears, it would avail less than one single drop of the most precious blood of God’s well beloved Son. If we were to lacerate the body with fastings and self-inflicted sufferings, till the very life sunk under the penance, it would procure no gift that is not already purchased, it could satisfy no law that is not already satisfied by the life of Jesus.

2. Consider also the imputed righteousness of Christ. He made himself one of us, and became our substitute on the cross. As our representative, He bore our sins in his own body, and as our representative He is now at the right hand of God. God punished our sins in Him upon the cross. God accepts us in Him as his ransomed people. Our sins were placed to his account, and his righteousness to ours. This explains 2 Cor. v. 21, “For he hath made him to be sin for us who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.” He was not made really sinful, but sin was imputed to him; he was reckoned as a sinner; he bore the sinner’s curse. But we are made the righteousness of God in the same sense in which he was made sin; that is, righteousness is imputed to us, we are reckoned righteous, we are made heirs of the Redeemer’s glory. Now this righteousness is indeed a justifying righteousness: it is the righteousness of Christ, the righteousness of God, perfect in every thought, perfect from eternity. For ever, and for ever, has he been one with God, and never for one single moment, has one single tainted thought dared to intrude on the heavenly holiness of his most holy soul. Now if this righteousness be imputed to us, what can ours add to it? If we be justified by Christ’s merit, how is it possible that we should be any longer justified by our own? Can ours add to his? Can it supply any defects in his? Can we make up a patchwork righteousness, partly his, and partly ours? The very holiest act of the very holiest of men would be like a spot upon the sun, a stain and blemish to the perfect brilliancy of the holiness of Jesus.

Now that is the justifying righteousness of the believer. In Christ we stand, in Christ we are accepted, in Christ the law is satisfied, in Christ we are free from the curse, in Christ we have peace with God—so in Christ, and in Christ alone, must the true believer look for life.

Away, then, with all false thoughts of human merit; away with the deadly heresy that man by inherent excellence can recommend himself to God; away with the self-exalting notion that any man, at any time, can stand in any other attitude than that of a convicted sinner, freely pardoned through the blood of the Lamb. We will strive to please him, we will press on along the path of life, we will spare nothing that we may walk with God. We will long for the day when Christ’s image shall be formed in perfection within the soul. But, meanwhile, we will rest on his atonement, on his righteousness alone: and though worldly men may count it folly, though self-righteous men may deem it frenzy, though Rome may hurl against us the thunder of her anathemas, we will believe, and believe to our everlasting peace and joy, that “God hath made him to be sin for us”; and that by that one act, without the smallest human merit, “We are made the righteousness of God in him.”

SERMON III. PURGATORY.

LUKE xxiii. 43.

And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be
with me in paradise.

HAVE you ever stood by the bedside of a dying believer? ever watched the decaying strength of some dear object of your fondest love? Then you know the deep emotions of that solemn moment, when, in the stillness of the chamber of death, the heavy breathing ceases, and the happy spirit wings its flight to God. What conflicting feelings then struggle for mastery in the heart! Faith, joy, doubt, and sorrow, seem in turn to take possession of the soul: nay, rather! they all reign there at once: we mourn in widowhood, but acquiesce in faith: we look on our own life as desolate through separation; but, thinking on the present glory of the departed, we cannot withhold a glad Amen from Cowper’s lines upon his mother.

But oh! the thought that thou art safe and he!
That thought is joy, arise what may to me.

Yes it is a joy! a mournful joy, but a joy unutterable; a joy that draws from the same eye tears of rejoicing, and tears of grief; a joy which, strange to say, melts us into sadness, while it gives a calm, holy, peaceful satisfaction from the full and complete assurance that those we love most are for ever safe with Jesus. This joy is the birthright of God’s faithful children; and this the balm with which in our funeral service, we strive to staunch the mourner’s tears. Who that has ever wept beside the open grave can fail to remember those hallowed words: “I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, from henceforth, blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, even so saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labours”?

But the Church of Rome, at one fatal blow, robs us of all this; and in the Catechism of the Council of Trent, declares, {35a} “Besides (hell,) there is a fire of purgatory, in which the souls of the pious being tormented for a definite time, expiate their sin, that so an entrance may be opened to them, into the eternal country, into which nothing defiled can enter.”

You will here observe four things.

1. That the souls in purgatory are under torture. “Cruciatæ.”

2. That this torture is by fire. {35b}

3. That the persons suffering it are not the wicked, but the pious, i.e. believers, God’s dear children, those to whom Christ would say, “Depart in peace, thy faith hath saved thee.”

4. That the purpose of it is to expiate sin, or make an atonement for transgression before they can be admitted to eternal glory.

So that if we are to believe Rome, we must abandon all our bright hopes for our dear departed brethren. Our mothers, and fathers, and fond friends, who have stuck closer to us than a brother, holy believers, who full of faith, fell asleep in Jesus, are at this present moment, writhing and gnashing their teeth, in the fierce agony of scorching heat; yet glad even of the flame to hide them from the displeasure of that Saviour whom they once delighted to trust and love.

Having thus stated the doctrine, I am well persuaded I might here safely leave it. But it forms one of the bulwarks of the Romish system, and is one of the great sources of Roman wealth. {36a} The parish priests are ordered by their church frequently and diligently to discourse on it. {36b} Let us examine then how the matter stands in the word of God.

I. And 1st, we would remark that there is not a shadow of foundation for it in the Bible. We read of hell, and we read of heaven; we read plainly, “That where the tree falleth there shall it lie.” But of purgatory not a word is to be found.

There are, however, two texts generally quoted to which it may be well briefly to refer.

The first is, 1 Cor. iii. 12–15. “Now if any man build upon this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble; every man’s work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the tire shall try every man’s work of what sort it is. If any man’s work abide which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man’s work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss: but he himself shall be saved; yet so as by fire.”

One glance is enough to shew that these words have no connection with the subject. The apostle is speaking of the ministry, and compares the ministers who followed him at Corinth to builders raising a temple on the foundation he himself had laid. The temple then is the visible Church; the material, the professing members of it: some of whom, like gold, silver, and precious stones, are shining as true believers to the glory of their Saviour: others, like wood, hay, and stubble, are worthless professors, fit only to be burned. The day of revealing fire refers either to the day of judgment, or the great fearful conflict with the enemy, described by St. Peter as “the fiery trial which is to try you.” {37} The effect will be to separate the tares from the wheat; the precious from the vile; the false from the true; the gold, silver, and precious stones, from the wood, hay, and stubble; and so to reveal the character of the work. There is no allusion then to purgatory. The fire of purgatory is to make expiation for the sins of believers; the day of fire here described is to try the Church and reveal its character.

If possible the other passage has still less bearing on the subject. It is, 1 Pet. iii. 18–20.

“Being put to death in the flesh, but quickened in the spirit: by the which also he went and preached unto the spirits in prison: which sometimes were disobedient, when once the longsuffering of God waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was a preparing, wherein few, that is, eight souls were saved by water.” This is said to prove that our blessed Lord preached to the spirits in purgatory at his burial. But it does nothing of the kind. Those that had sinned against Noah’s preaching were guilty of disobedience and unbelief. They, therefore, the Church of Rome itself being witness, were not in purgatory but in hell. The true meaning of the text is this: Christ was raised up by the divine power of the Holy Ghost, by which as the eternal God, he preached even in the time of Noah to those wicked persons, who having then rejected him, are now fast bound in the miseries of hell. He preached then, not at the time of the crucifixion, but, as the pre-existent God, at the time of Noah: and preached not to dead souls, but to living men. These two texts are the pillars on which Purgatory rests. They remind us of the two pillars on which stood the house of Dagon. God grant that they may not be equally destructive to the thousands of souls who rest on them!

There is therefore no support for the doctrine; let us now proceed to show,

II. That it is in direct contradiction to the word of God.

There are many passages to which we should feel great joy in now referring, where the present blessedness of departed spirits is painted in lively colours by the Holy Ghost; but you will at once see that those only concern our present argument, which describe an _immediate_ entrance into joy and rest.

1. Let us begin then with the language of our blessed Saviour to the dying thief; which shows that they are gathered immediately to a joyful home; “To day thou shalt be with me in paradise.” There can be no question here as to his immediate happiness; there was no need of prayer for the repose of his soul. That very afternoon, when his poor exhausted frame hung lifeless on the cross, when he was carried off as an unclean thing to be buried out of the sight of man; that very afternoon, before the evening closed in, was the happy spirit in paradise with Jesus. And there is something very beautiful in the name here given to the home of Spirits. In 2 Cor. v. 1, it is described as “a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens;” but there is no name given there; here the name is given, but no description; the name is “Paradise.” In paradise there was no pain, no sickness, no sorrow, no death, no sin. Tears were never witnessed there till Adam turned his back on it, and so it is with the home of believers. Neither sin nor sorrow can ever gain admission. The gate is too strait for them, they are left behind with us on earth. In that home holiness is the joy, praise the incense, love the atmosphere, and Christ the light.

2. In this home again there is immediate rest. “They rest not day and night,” it is true, “crying, {40a} Holy, holy, holy, &c.;” for to them nothing could be so fatiguing as a pause from praise. Their most toilsome toil is to be silent from giving thanks. But from all labour they rest at once. When the spirit once takes its flight, to that soul the warfare is accomplished, the struggle over, the battle won. Only look at the words of St. John, Revelation xiv. 13. See how they are ushered in. “I heard a voice from heaven.” See how God would have them preserved as the lasting joy of the Church of Christ; for he says, “Write.” Mark their confirmation by the Holy Ghost, “Yea, thus saith the Spirit.” And now see their plain, indisputable testimony to the immediate and complete blessedness of the saints. “Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth, yea, thus saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them.” There is no delay, no interval, no expiation. They are at once blessed; at once at rest; for they are fallen asleep in Jesus: they have died in the Lord.

3. This immediate blessedness is taught us also from the case of Lazarus. {40b} “When the beggar died he was carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom,” not to purgatory; and when there he was comforted in the enjoyment of a rest with God.

4. But above all, the dying spirit passes immediately into the presence of Christ the Saviour.

It is most important for us to observe this, for there can be no real joy to the Christian if he be separate from Christ. The pure river of the fountain of life would lose all its charm if it did not proceed out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. The sea of glass, clear as crystal, would have no beauty if the face of Jesus were not reflected in it. The new Jerusalem itself would be no object of desire, though its walls be of jasper, its gate of pearl, its streets of gold, if Christ himself were not the light of it: for the brightest diamond has no brightness in the dark. Yea, heaven itself would become a hell if the Son of God were not the reigning Lord of it.

If we cannot prove, therefore, that the departed believer passes at once into the presence of his Lord, we in fact prove nothing. If for one moment we are to be separated from him, it little matters where. But thanks be to God we can prove it without the possibility of contradiction.

When Stephen died {41a} “he saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God;” saw, as it were, the arm of Christ reaching forth to draw him up to heaven; so he fell down and prayed “Lord Jesus receive my spirit.”

When St. Paul doubted between life and death, he {41b} “had a desire to depart and be with Christ, which was far better.” Death then was a departure into the immediate presence of his Lord. But above all refer to 2 Cor. v. 6, 7, 8. “Therefore we are always confident, knowing that, whilst we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord; (for we walk by faith not by sight;) we are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.” The idea of this passage is that there are two homes for believers; two dwellings, one on earth, and one in heaven; one in the body, one in the presence of our Lord. While here we know him, but it is by faith alone. “We walk by faith, not by sight.” When there we shall see him in the full brilliancy of his love and glory. And this change is immediate. The veil is very thin that separates the world of flesh from the world of spirits. Every prayer of faith pierces it. The stream is very narrow that separates earth and heaven, and no sooner do we quit the one than we enter on the other; no sooner is the earthly home dissolved, than Christ himself is seen and the heavenly home opens for his people. So long as “we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord;” and we are willing rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord. The departed believer, therefore, is at once found with Christ.

5. But there is another passage in which all these immediate blessings appear summed up in one short, but most expressive, word. “To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” {42}

We should have no fear in resting the question upon this text alone. It places the truth beyond the reach of all attack. “To die is gain,” therefore to die is not to go to purgatory. “To die is gain,” therefore to die is not to be tortured in fire for the expiation of our sin. Nor must we suppose that this refers to St. Paul alone. His acceptance rested on the same terms as ours. He was a sinner pardoned through the Lamb’s blood, and accepted on the same terms as the weakest believer in our congregation. To die was gain; not because he was an Apostle, but because to live was Christ. And if to us to live is Christ, then to us to die is gain.

Look then at the present happiness of believers, the present joy of the new born child of God. He does not see Christ, it is true, with the eye of sense; but he knows him, he loves him, he delights in him, he speaks to him, his soul is filled with joy at the assurance of his grace. “Whom having not seen we love, in whom though now ye see him not, yet believing ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory.” In every care and trial he can find a sweet repose, for he knows that Christ is near, and he has the precious promise “The beloved of the Lord shall dwell in safety by him; and the Lord shall cover him all the day long.” So when his frame becomes enfeebled and the time of his departure seems at hand, he can lie down peacefully upon the bed of languishing, for he has the precious promise that the Lord shall strengthen him; the sweet assurance “_Thou_ wilt make _all_ his bed in his sickness.” Ay! and when the illness itself draws to a close, when all power to alleviate is gone, when the physician’s skill is helpless, and the wife’s affection fruitless; when the dying man is passing alone through the valley of the shadow of death, he is still supported, still happy, still at peace. For the same Lord is nigh. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil: for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.” Oh! Blessed life! Oh! happy death of the child of God! “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!” {44}

But now suppose the valley crossed. The arm has upheld him through the struggle; the beloved of the Lord has been borne safely through. Is the first sight which meets his affrighted eye the lurid glare of the flashing flames of purgatorial fire?—the first sound that startles his ear the groaning of God’s beloved children writhing under the torments of expiating torture? Is that calm repose on Jesus suddenly changed by one terrific plunge into the scorching agony of a purgatorial flame? Would it be gain thus to die? Would such a death be “far better” than the life of faith? It would be better surely to dwell safely as the beloved of the Lord, than to burn miserably in the expiation of unforgiven sin.

We may conclude then that the doctrine of purgatory is in direct opposition to the word of God, but we have a yet farther, and, if possible, graver charge to urge against it, viz.,

III. That it is in direct opposition to the doctrine of atonement as set forth in scripture.

You will remember the extract already quoted from the Catechism of the Council of Trent, in which it was stated that in the fire of purgatory the souls of the pious make expiation for their sin. Pause for a moment to observe these words. There are two things to be noticed in them, (1.) they assert directly that man’s sufferings can make expiation for his sin, and (2.) they imply that the death of our Lord was not a complete expiation for our sin. Let us examine each part separately.

(1.) First then we have a direct assertion that by enduring pain the believer makes expiation for his soul; that is, that our temporary sufferings satisfy God’s broken law.

If this be true, what occasion was there for the blood of Jesus. Why the stupendous mystery of man’s redemption? Why the agony in the garden? Why the burden of the cross? Why the hiding of God’s countenance? Why the endurance of the curse in our stead? Such a work was surely needless, a mere mistake on the part of Jesus. The atonement is become a fable, if man’s passing pain can make expiation for his sin.

But, again, if pain is expiation, how is it that hell-fire burns for ever? Was ever suffering so intense as that? Was there ever such a scene of woe and misery, of hatefulness and hopelessness, as that? But does it make expiation for the sinner’s sin? Does it blot out the curse? Does the fire burn out its fuel? “It is the worm that dieth not, and the fire that is not quenched.” Yea, verily, if the curse of one single sin could be burned out by ten thousand centuries of pain, hell would be no longer hell, for there would be a faint gleam of far distant hope, shining even upon the miseries of the damned.

There is no expiation then in pain. Believers are chastened, but chastening is not atonement. It is God’s gentle discipline by which he prepares his jewels for his crown; and just as the finest gold is wrought most carefully, so the most precious of God’s children are often chastened most heavily, for “whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.” There must be a melting of the gold, before it can be separated from the ore; there must be a rending of the root, before the tree can be taken from the wilderness and transplanted into the garden of the Lord. And so it is with believers. There must be a melting of the heart, a humbling of the earthly will, a weaning of soul, that they may cleave to Christ alone. And this is the purpose for which, beloved, we are chastened. He does it for our profit, that we may be partakers of his holiness. Affliction has the same effect that Nebuchadnezzar’s furnace had on the three children in captivity. It could not touch their person, but it burnt the bands that bound them, and enabled them to walk more freely with their Lord. But expiation! That is Christ’s work. “He is the propitiation for our sins,” and if suffering in man could expiate for sin in man, then the suffering of Christ were a waste of blood, a waste of agony, a waste of life, a waste of love.

(2.) And this leads us to our second remark, that the doctrine of expiation through purgatorial fire implies an incompleteness in the atonement of our blessed Lord. If expiation be still needful, then in his atonement there must be something wanting. Nor is this the mere conclusion of a bigoted protestant, it is the bold assertion of the Church of Rome herself. Listen to her canon, “If any man shall say that after the gift of Justification has been received, sin is so remitted to any repentant sinner,” (observe it speaks of justified believers and true penitents) “and the debt of eternal punishment so blotted out, that there remains no debt of temporary punishment to be endured either in this world or the world to come in purgatory, before a way can be opened into the kingdom of heaven, let him be Anathema.” {47}

I feel utterly at a loss in attempting to speak on such an awful passage. Can they remember that they are speaking of the atonement wrought by the Son of God? He gave his own most precious life to satisfy the law, and can any portion of the debt remain? He purchased us with the price of his own most precious blood: is farther payment needed? The eternal Redeemer was our ransom: are we not free? The well beloved of the Father endured the curse as our substitute: was his work so ineffectual that the curse still hangs over the very men he came to save? Awful dishonour to the Son of God! Now Rome thou must indeed be Antichrist, for thou dost rob Christ of his glory; thou strivest to tarnish the beauty of his diadem. He says “Behold the Lamb of God that takest away the sins of the world.” But thou contradictest Christ and sayest that there is a remnant left to be punished in the believer still. He says “I, even I, am he, that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins.” But thou sayest that the blot is not effaced, that the sin is still remembered, still punished, even in the child of God. He says “I am the way,” “I am the door; by me if any man enter in he shall be saved.” But thou sayest that the door cannot be opened, except it be through purgatorial pain. He says that he has loved us and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and made us kings and priests unto God and the Father. But thou sayest the washing was incomplete, for sin must after all be burned out by fire; that love is still defective, for the saints must yet be punished; the inheritance not fully purchased, for, after all that Christ has done, the justified believer has still to make an expiation for his sin. {49}

No! beloved! we will not for a moment admit the thought of any other expiation, than that wrought out for us by the Lamb of God. And as for our dear departed brethren, nothing that Rome can say shall ever rob us of our delightful hope. They have felt no pain since the day we parted; their sainted spirits have been basking in the sunshine of the countenance of God. I myself have parted with a mother, such a mother that I often wonder if the world can ever more behold her equal: so strong in faith; so ardent in her thirsting after God; so pure in spirit; so sensitive to sin; so beaming in her holy loveliness, that you might almost believe you saw the Father’s name written legibly by the Holy Ghost upon her forehead. To this day do I hear the tones of her dying voice, when in answer to my questions respecting her soul’s peace, she replied “I can reverently say with the deepest humility, ‘Lord, thou knowest all things, thou knowest that I love thee.’” And I would rather have this arm torn from its socket, I would rather be scorched and scathed in Moloch’s fire, than I would abandon my firm and fixed persuasion that such love has never been interrupted, that her Redeeming Lord has never left her for a moment; my perfect assurance, that while we were weeping in solemn stillness around her bed of death, she was taking her place amongst the company of palm bearers, and is now standing before the throne, having washed her robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.

So also for ourselves! dear brethren! for we too must die; our day is hastening on, our time drawing to its close. A few short years and multitudes amongst us must change their faith for sight, the world of flesh for the world of spirits: a few, short, rapid years, and every one, both you and I, shall find ourselves in heaven or in hell. But let us fear nothing. Only let us be found in Christ, justified through his blood, with our name written in his book of life, and the Father’s name engraven by the Holy Ghost on our forehead, and then neither death or hell can ever prevail to hurt us. In Christ we are safe; washed in his blood we are completely pardoned; clad in his righteousness we are completely justified; and kept in his right hand we are completely and for ever safe.

Only let us be found in Christ. Then the outward man may decay; the poor frame may wax faint and feeble; the eye may become dim, even with the dim fixedness of death: and then, when all earthly power has sunk under exhaustion, the eye will open; a new world will spring up before us; attendant angels will hover around the new-born citizen of heaven; and without tears, or fears, or weakness, we shall behold Christ in the brightness of his glory, and cry aloud in the heartfelt thankfulness of unutterable joy, “Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne and unto the Lamb.”

SERMON IV. TRANSUBSTANTIATION.

HEBREWS x. 12.

But this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins, for ever
sat down on the right hand of God.

THERE was never a more tremendous judgment than that uttered by the voice of Malachi, {52} “I will curse your blessings.” There can be no scourge more heavy than a blessing cursed. The more choice the gift, the more fatal is the misuse of it; the richer the blessing, the deadlier its corruption. So it was with Christ himself. He was the most precious gift that could be found even in the treasuries of heaven—the well beloved Son of God; but to those who rejected him he became a stone of stumbling and rock of offence. So it has been with that sacred feast, which he left as a parting legacy to his church. The Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper is one of the richest blessings in the church’s birthright. It is a sacred opportunity of feeding in faith upon the body and blood of the Lamb, a perpetual remembrance of his boundless grace, a bond of holy fellowship with our brethren in the faith, a sacred pledge of our union and communion with the Lord. Yet even this has been corrupted. As with the Jews of old, so with professing Christians “their table has become a snare before them, and that which should have been for their welfare has become a trap.” {53a} We allude, of course, to the doctrine of transubstantiation, of which the Council of Trent decrees as follows:

“By the consecration of the bread and wine there is effected a change in the whole substance of the bread into the substance of the body of Christ our Lord, and of the whole substance of the wine into the substance of his blood.” {53b} Here we have the bread and wine transformed into the actual substance of the person of our blessed Lord: so transformed that according to the Catechism {53c} there are “bones and nerves in it.” Nay, more! so changed that there is actually his whole person, not excepting his soul and his divinity, for the Council declares {53d} “If any man shall say that the body and blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, together with his soul and divinity, and, in short, that a whole Christ, is not contained truly, really, and substantially in the sacrament of the most Holy Eucharist, but shall say that he is in it only in sign, or figure, or power, let him be anathema.”

There is no misunderstanding such words as these. And if there were, the 6th canon shows how Rome herself interprets them, for she not only acknowledges the fact, but follows it consistently to its conclusion, and declares plainly that we are to worship it with the worship due to God. {54}

“If any shall say that in the Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist, Christ, the only begotten Son of God, is not to be adored, and that outwardly with the worship of Latria (the worship paid to God), and that he ought not to be . . . carried solemnly about in processions, or that he ought not to be set before the people that he may be worshipped, and that the worshippers of him are idolaters, let him be anathema.”

But even this is not all: for not merely do they claim the power of thus making the bread into the very person of the only begotten of the Father, they add yet this also, that they can put that Saviour to death, and by that sacrifice make a propitiation for the sins of the dead and living. The Council of Trent declares {55a} “In the sacrifice of the mass, that same Christ is sacrificed without blood who once with blood offered himself upon the cross.” And in Canon iii. {55b} it adds that “If any man shall say that the sacrifice is not propitiatory and profits the receiver only, and ought not to be offered for the living and the dead, for sins, punishments, satisfaction, and other necessities, let him be anathema.”

Such is the doctrine of transubstantiation as taught by the Church of Rome. According to it by a few words of consecration a wafer of unleavened bread is transformed into the very person of the Son of God: a man may be worshipping with divine honour in the afternoon a morsel of that same wheaten flour on which he made his breakfast in the morning: the one half he may bake for the sustenance of his children, the other he may be bound to adore when the priest has transubstantiated it into God. On reading such a doctrine it is impossible altogether to forget God’s cutting language against the sin of Israel.

“He burneth part of it in the fire; with part thereof he eateth flesh; he roasteth roast, and is satisfied: yea, he warmeth himself, and saith, Aha! I am warm, I have seen the fire: and the residue thereof he maketh a god, even his graven image: he falleth down unto it, and prayeth unto it, and saith, deliver me for thou art my god.” {56}

Surely, then, it is reasonable to ask that the truth of such a principle should be tried by the word of God alone. It is opposed to the evidence of our senses, it is opposed to reason, and it is no less opposed to the general tenor of the sacred scriptures. It is a case, therefore, in which no human evidence can avail any thing; the best, the wisest, the holiest of men, are wholly insufficient witnesses to prove, that what is apparently a piece of bread, lifeless, motionless, and powerless, is the very person of Christ himself, the only begotten of the Father, reigning triumphantly at the right hand of the throne of God. Such a fact, if it be a fact, must be taught by God himself.

At the same time, if God has said it we are bound cheerfully to believe it. It is condemned by every faculty which God has given us; it is opposed to experience, and to every pre-existent principle of religion, yet so complete should be our submission to the Bible, so absolute and unquestioning our conviction of its certain truth, that if we clearly find even transubstantiation there, we must believe without a murmur, we must abandon all human thoughts in submission to his all perfect wisdom. Yea though our revered church declares it plainly both “a blasphemous fable and a dangerous deceit;” {57} though the martyred fathers of the Reformation chose rather to die in agony than admit its truth; yet if God says it we will joyfully believe it, “for God is in heaven and we upon earth, therefore must our words be few.”

By the word of God, then, let us proceed to try the question, and we will examine the language of Scripture,

I. With reference to the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper;

II. With reference to the life and work of our blessed Lord.

May the Holy Ghost lead us calmly, seriously, and dispassionately to learn the truths of his own most holy word!

I. The language of Scripture with reference to the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.

The doctrine is supposed to rest upon the words of our blessed Saviour, “This is my body,” or as they were revealed to St. Paul, “This is my body which is broken for you.”

This sentence is thought to contain a plain, literal, absolute, assertion that the bread was changed into his body; changed so completely that while the Saviour spoke the words, that bread which he held within his hand, was his real, natural, whole, and substantial person. The belief of the Church of England is that the words have no such literal meaning; but were employed to teach that the bread and wine were signs, figures, or emblems of his body broken, and his blood shed upon the cross. {58a} He says, “I am the vine, ye are the branches.” “I am the door:” but none suppose that he was a real vine, a real door, or his people real branches of a growing tree. St. Paul says “That rock was Christ:” but none believe that the flinty rock was in very fact a living man. {58b} In all these passages we never doubt for a single moment what was the meaning of the Holy Ghost. The vine and the rock represented Christ, and the door was a figure of him. Just so we believe it to be with the words of consecration; the bread was a figure of his body and the wine of his blood.

That this is the true meaning of the passage seems to lie upon its very surface. Let us turn to 1st Corinthians xi. We shall there find that

1st. It is inconsistent to take the words literally; for they are quite as explicit and literal when spoken of the wine as of the bread. “This is my body which is broken for you.” “This cup is the New Testament in my blood.” But in this one passage there are no less than three figures. The cup stands as the emblem or figure of the wine contained in it; the new covenant is said to be the New Testament _in_ his blood, because it was sealed and ratified by his blood; and the cup itself is declared positively to be the testament. This must be figurative, it must mean that the cup is a sign, emblem, or figure of the testament. Thus the warmest advocate of the doctrine of transubstantiation is compelled to allow the use of figure with reference to the cup. Is it consistent? is it defensible or any principle of scriptural interpretation to deny it with reference to the bread? ought they not to be interpreted on the same principles? Here are two sentences, spoken at the same time, by the same person, under the same circumstances, to the same company, and for the same purpose. But there must be a figure in the one, who shall deny it in the other? The cup must be an emblem of the testament, can we be wrong in believing also that the bread is an emblem of the body?

2d. But this is not all. We have besides the direct testimony of the Holy Ghost that the bread remains bread, and the wine remains wine after consecration. Of the wine our Lord spoke in terms which it is quite impossible to mistake or misinterpret. In Matthew xxvi. 29, he expressly says, “I will drink no more of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” These words were spoken _after_ the consecration, and they seem uttered with especial caution as if he had foreseen the error which was about to creep into his professing church. He does not rest content with the name of “wine,” but calls it “fruit of the vine,” as if to prove beyond the possibility of a doubt that it had gained no new substance, but remained as it was before, the natural produce of the vine, the simple unaltered juice of the grape. Nor is the evidence less positive with reference to the bread. Again and again do we read of the breaking of the bread, never once of the sacrifice of the body. Nor is this merely accidental, for in the 10th and 11th chapters of 1st Corinthians we have the bread called bread by the Holy Ghost, no less than four times after consecration. In 1 Cor. x. 17, the Christian communicant is said to partake of bread, not of flesh with bones and nerves; “We are all partakers of that one _bread_.” In 1 Cor. xi. 26, “For as often as ye eat this _bread_, and drink this _cup_, ye do show the Lord’s death till he come.” In 27, “Whosoever shall eat this _bread_, and drink this _cup_ of the Lord unworthily shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord;” and 28, “But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that _bread_, and drink of that _cup_.” We do not, therefore, rest on human reason only when we deny the doctrine of transubstantiation. We boldly cast ourselves upon the teaching of the Bible, yea, upon the teaching of the Son of God himself, and believe the bread to be still bread, and the wine to remain as the fruit of the vine. We behold in them the signs and symbols of the passion of our Lord; and beholding the sign, we feed in faith on the reality. They are the figures of himself; the representations of his passion; the emblems and signs of his atoning death. As such we value, we receive, we honour them: but we live on Christ himself; we rest on the passion itself, on the atonement itself; and so by a strong, spiritual, realizing faith we are made partakers of his flesh and blood. “The words that I speak unto you they are spirit, and they are life.”

3rd. But if the words were to be taken literally, they would not even then furnish the slightest proof of the doctrine taught by Rome: for you will remember the canon {61} already quoted, which says, “If any man shall say that the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, together with his soul and divinity, and in short that a whole Christ is not contained in the Sacrament, let him be accursed.” The utmost that the words of Jesus can be understood as teaching is, that the bread is transubstantiated into the body. The narrative is given by three Evangelists and one Apostle; but in no single instance is there the least mention made of his soul or spirit. He did not say, “This is my body, soul, and divinity.” He said simply, “This is my body.” They refer to it exclusively, and this exclusiveness is marked in them with a peculiar and distinctive point. If he had simply said, “This is my body,” it might have been possible for a lively imagination to clothe them with some reference to all the properties of his sacred person; but by adding the words “Which is broken for you,” he has given a definite fixedness to their meaning; he has tied them down to a distinct and exclusive application; he has showed that they refer simply and solely to the real, human body; to that flesh through which the nails were driven, to that human frame which was seen hanging on the cross, which was embalmed by the women, and which lay buried in the tomb of Joseph.

There is not, therefore, the faintest appearance of the least shade of scriptural evidence, in support of the canon that the bread is changed into the soul and divinity of our Lord. It is an addition made by the church of Rome on her own simple, unsupported, authority. {62} There is not one single passage, which, on any principle of interpretation, can be forced or twisted into the most distant reference to such a change. The Saviour said “This is my body.” Rome adds, “it is his soul and divinity.” And what an addition have we here! The soul shudders at the thought that men dare presume to make it! Had we the tongue of angels we should utterly fail to describe the unutterable glory of the majesty of God. As well might the insect swallow up the ocean as any finite creature exhibit truly the unbounded vastness of an infinite Jehovah. In Majesty incomprehensible he dwelleth in the light which no man can approach unto: in power omnipotent he created all things without one single atom of material substance: in life eternal he dwelt alone from the beginning, filling with his own self the vast regions of unbounded space; and now that he has peopled a universe with the countless creatures of his skill, he is present everywhere, exhausted no where. “Do not I the Lord fill earth and heaven?” Yet does Rome venture on the unsupported authority of man to ascribe all this to the unleavened wafer, and fearlessly to hurl her curses against those who tremble at the thought of kneeling down to the bread and wine, and adoring them with the worship which belongs to the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. “If any man shall say that, he (i.e. the transubstantiated wafer) is not to be adored with the worship due to God, let him be accursed.” {63}

II. We may pass then to our second point, and compare the doctrine of transubstantiation with the teaching of Scripture concerning both the life and work of Jesus.

And first we may remark that, according to the Bible, he now lives and reigns in his complete and perfect manhood. This appears very plainly in the language of our text. “But this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins, for ever sat down on the right hand of God.” The same that made the offering is now seated at the right hand of God. Yes! that same human person that was born of the Virgin, that grew in stature, that was wearied at the well, that slept in the ship, that thirsted on the cross, that was laid in the new tomb of Joseph; that same person is the triumphant King seated as a conqueror on the throne of God. “I am he that liveth and was dead, and behold I am alive for evermore, Amen, and have the keys of hell and death.” {64a}

And this explains the language of Scripture, which describes him in one defined and determined place, seated at the right hand of God. In his divine nature he is God himself, and fills earth and heaven. To the Son may we say as to the Father, “If I ascend up into heaven thou art there; if I make my bed in hell thou art there.” But in his human nature he is perfect man, and as man limited. As Jehovah he is omnipotent and created all things, but yet as man he was dependent, and prayed for strength; so as Jehovah, he is omnipresent, watching everywhere over the most hidden of his scattered children, as man he has his one abiding place, and is seated at the right hand of God. He was always omnipresent, but when he went to Bethany he left Jerusalem. So too he is as God now omnipresent everywhere, but when he went to the Father, as man he left the presence of the church below. “It is expedient for you that I go away, for if I go not away the Comforter will not come unto you, but if I depart I will send him unto you.” {64b}

Hence it is that he speaks of his ascension as a leaving of the world; in the body he went to God, though in divine power he never left his church on earth. Hence his second advent is described as a coming back to his people; “This same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven.” {65a} Hence, also, we are expressly taught that until the appointed day shall dawn his habitation will be heaven, and his seat the throne of God. {65b} “Whom the heavens must receive until the times of restitution of all things.”