Chapter III: Part 3

What are some of the goods which our Master, God, has entrusted to our care? First of all, there is the treasure of _time_. Our years, our months, and weeks, and days, are all so many precious jewels lent to us, and we must give a strict account of every one of them. Every day of our life has its special work for God; have we always tried to do the day's work with our might? Every day of our life is a teacher in God's great School, and brings its lesson; have we tried to learn the lesson aright? If we must give an account for every idle word, so surely must we for every idle day. And remember that any time spent entirely on selfish pleasure, or amusement, is wasted. Unless we are doing some good, we are certainly doing some harm. There is a motto very commonly engraved upon a sundial, which means that the moments of time are perishing, and are being recorded in God's Book. Yes, they are being put down to our account on one side or the other, just as we have used, or misused, them. Look on two death-beds. A Queen of England is dying, surrounded by her attendants. What are the last words they hear her speak, as she passes over the brink of eternity? "All my possessions for a moment of time!" Now look on another picture. An English Admiral lies wounded unto death. The decks are slippery with blood, and the air dark with smoke; but the sound of many voices is heard, it is the British shout of victory. The dying hero clasps the hand of his friend, and murmurs, "Now I am satisfied; thank God, I have done my duty." Brethren, our ending of this life must be like one of these. Either we must cry helplessly over wasted days, which cannot return, and beg in vain for time to right some wrong; or we shall die with the comforting thought that, in spite of many faults and failures, we have tried to do our duty. Remember that time once lost cannot be recovered. "Lost wealth may be replaced by industry, lost knowledge by study, lost health by temperance and medicine, but lost time is gone for ever."

Again, "give an account of thy stewardship," of the good things which God has given you; your creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life; and above all, the redemption of the world by Jesus Christ our Lord. I knew a man once who said that he was not thankful to God for having created him. I think that man was wrong. We ought to thank God for having made us, for if He had not we could never know the joys of Heaven. This world is full of beauty, full of good things, and we must give an account of our stewardship of them. God has sent the sun to warm and cheer us, blue skies and flower-dotted meadows, seed time and harvest, summer and winter, wind and storm fulfilling His Word. Too often we take these gifts as a matter of course, and forget to thank God, who giveth all. God has fed you, and clothed you, and preserved you all these years; have you been thankful? "Give an account of thy stewardship." Then think what we owe God for our redemption, for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory. For each of us Jesus suffered hunger and thirst, the temptation in the wilderness, the agony in the Garden, the cruel torture of the Cross. Do we think lightly of our sins? They were heavy enough to drive those piercing nails through the Hands and Feet of Jesus. Do we _speak_ lightly of our sins? They were heavy enough to force that bitter cry from Jesus, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" How much do you owe unto our Lord for these benefits? "Give an account of thy stewardship."

Then, too, the means of grace--how are we using them? There are the Sacraments of the Church, do we value them as we ought? Do we understand the privilege and the blessing of having been baptised into Christ's Holy Church, and made partakers of the resurrection of Jesus? Do we appreciate the value of that Holy Sacrament, when we bring our children to be baptised? Then think of that other Sacrament, the blessed legacy of our dying Saviour's love, the Holy Food of us travellers through the wilderness. Why are not all of you who hear me now Communicants? Why should there be two classes among you; one class of Church-goers only, the other of Church-goers who are Communicants? Your Saviour offers you the highest of all blessings in that Sacrament, He offers you Himself. Are you afraid to look upon God? You _must_ look on Him one day. Are you trying to live without the Precious Food of the Altar? Man doth not live by bread alone; he _cannot_ live by bread alone, unless God feeds him there is no life in him. As you turn away from this Altar, and go to that other altar which you have raised to some unworthy idol, does there come no reproach to you, no warning voice--"What hast thou done? Give an account of thy stewardship." And so with all the means of grace, we must give an account of them. Our Confirmation, that solemn coming of age, when we were bidden to take unto us the whole armour of God; have we remembered that, and all its responsibilities? Our prayers in private, and our public worship in Church, we must answer to God for them. When you are tempted to hurry over your prayers, to say words with no heart, perhaps no meaning in them; or when in Church you are silent and inattentive, instead of throwing all your heart and mind into the act of worship; remember that for all these things God will bring you into judgment, and will say, "Give an account of thy stewardship." Is that your Bible on the shelf, covered with tell-tale dust? Well, God lent you that good thing, and He will ask for an account of your use of it, or your neglect.

Then again, God has sent you trials, sorrows, losses, as teachers who warn you of your state. You must render an account for them. You stood by the grave of someone stricken very suddenly by death. That was a message sent to you by God, reminding you that man's time passeth away like a shadow, and bidding you take heed to your ways. Did you listen to the warning, my brother, and take heed? Some of you have lost your money, others your health; some have seen their cherished plans disappointed, their dearest wishes fail. All these are whispers from God, warnings from the Unseen. Have you understood them? God will ask you one day.

Again, God has given you bodies and minds _in trust_. You must give an account of your use of them. Are you keeping those bodies of yours as temples of the Holy Ghost, in purity, chastity, temperance? Or have you defiled those holy temples with drunkenness and lust? "Give an account of thy stewardship." Man of business, God has given you a quick brain, a keen eye, an aptitude for you [Transcriber's note: your?] calling. How are you using these things? Are you in your business walking honestly, as in the day? Will your accounts bear looking into by God's Eye? "Give an account of thy stewardship."

Fathers and mothers, God has given you children, souls precious in His sight. Do you take good care of those souls? You clothe your children, you feed them, you educate them; yes, but do you take care of their _souls_? Do you educate them for Heaven? Do you give them that best of all teaching--a good example? What if our children fall through our fault, because we have set no good pattern before them! What if they never get to Heaven because they have never seen _us_ walking in the right way! God grant that these solemn thoughts may sink deeply into our hearts, and bear fruit of amendment, before the day when God shall say to me who preach, and you who hearken--"Give an account of thy stewardship."

SERMON XLV.

THE TEARS OF CHRIST.

(Tenth Sunday after Trinity.)

S. LUKE xix. 41.

"He beheld the city, and wept over it."

The saddest sight, save one, in the history of the world is that pictured in the text--the Son of God weeping over the city which God had chosen to put His Name there. Let us, in fancy, to-day look upon the scene on which our Saviour looked, and recall the history of that city which had lost sight of the things concerning her peace. No other city in the world, not even Rome, has such a wonderful story as Jerusalem. Looking back into the past we see the city as the stronghold of the heathen Jebusites, perched on her rocky crest, and holding out when every other fenced city had yielded to the arms of David. The Jebusites were the last old inhabitants of the land to give place to the conqueror; they trusted in the marvellous strength of their position, where "they had made their nest in a rock." They trusted in "the everlasting gates," which had never been forced by an invader; and they declared boastfully that the blind and the lame were strong enough to defend their citadel, and that David should not come in thither. But, as we know, the day came when David attacked the city, and declared that the man who first smote the Jebusites should be chief and captain, and that man was Joab. Still looking back over the past, we see David solemnly consecrating the once heathen city to the God of his Fathers. The Ark, the most sacred treasure which Israel possessed, was brought home with solemn state and loud rejoicing after its long exile. As the procession of Priests and Levites, with the king and his chief captains, wound up the steep ascent, there rose the famous shout which Israel had so often uttered in the wilderness--"Let God arise, and let His enemies be scattered. Arise, O Lord, into Thy rest, Thou and the Ark of Thy strength." And as the Ark is borne nearer to the ancient gates, which once defended the heathen Jebusite against all foes, a new cry is raised--"Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be lift up ye everlasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in." And so the Ark entered into Jerusalem, henceforth the Holy City, of which God said, "The Lord had chosen Zion, He hath desired it for His habitation." Still looking at this Jerusalem of the past, we see the same David fallen from his high estate, sore punished for his sin, weeping for the dying child of His shame, fleeing from the city before the threats of another son whom he had loved "not wisely, but too well." Then we see the buildings of the temple rising high above palace and homestead, and mark the glory, and the wisdom, and the weakness of Solomon. Later we see clouds of sin and sorrow gathering thick over Zion. Idolatrous kings have set up their heathen altars and high places. Of nearly every monarch the same dark sentence is recorded--he did "that which was evil in the sight of the Lord." The days come when we see the Temple of God closed; no sound of Psalm, no smoke of incense within its walls. Men burn sacrifices to Baal and Ashtaroth, and the Valley of Hinnom echoes with the cries of hapless children offered to Moloch, the hideous idol of the Ammonite. We see the Ark of God cast out of the holy of holies, the name of Jehovah removed from every public document, the altars of God overthrown, and His Priests slain with the sword. Even to-day they point to the mulberry tree of Isaiah, where one of the greatest of the prophets was slain in the Valley of Kedron. Still looking back, we see the hand of the spoiler and the oppressor busy with the city which had forgotten God--forgotten the things which concerned its peace. The ruined walls, the desecrated temple, the mournful band of exiles, all these seem to pass before us like a dream. Then for a time come brighter scenes, as Israel returns from its exile, and with joyful Psalms sings, "Let them rejoice whom the Lord hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy, and gathered them out of all lands."

Such was the Jerusalem of the past, over which the Son of God gazed and wept. What was the Jerusalem of the present, on which He looked; what of the future? It was a doomed city, because in spite of all its chances, its warnings, its opportunities, it repented not. Its Rulers and Chief Priests refused to hear the Word of God spoken by the Messiah. What the common people listened to gladly, what the fishermen of Galilee, and the sick and sorrowing rejoiced to hear, Jerusalem rejected. And so Jerusalem was doomed. Over gorgeous temple, stately palace, and quiet home alike was written Ichabod--thy glory is departed. Already the axe was laid to the root of the tree; already the sentence had gone forth, "cut it down: why cumbereth it the ground?" Already the hand of the destroyer was upon the city; the Roman eagle glittered amid the halls of Zion, and the once glorious sceptre had departed from Judah. Over such a city Jesus wept. And what of the future? The end came soon. Quickly the Jews filled up the measure, of their sins. Little thought they, as they watched with jibe and insult the agonies of God's Son, that those streets of theirs should run red with the blood of their best and bravest. That famine, and pestilence, and treachery, and civil war should all attack them within, whilst the Roman hosts surrounded them without. Little they thought that the temple where Jesus had been presented, where He had talked with the doctors, where He had taught such wondrous lessons, should be burned by the hand of the enemy; that its altars should drip with Jewish blood; the abomination of desolation stand in the holy place, and the golden candlestick grace a victor's triumph in the streets of Rome. Little thought those cruel men, who crucified the Lord of Life, that within a while the Romans should crucify their brethren outside the walls of Jerusalem, till there was no wood left to make a cross. "If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this day, the things which belong to thy peace! But now they are hid from thine eyes!"

Brothers, those tears of Jesus should be very precious and very terrible to us. Precious, because they teach us the sympathy, the tenderness of Christ; terrible, because they show us the awfulness of sin. What must sin be like if it made God weep! Are there no cities, no towns, among us over which Jesus might shed tears? Think of the crimes of our great busy centres of wealth and commerce; think of the fraud and falsehood which too often disgrace our trade; think of the selfish, cruel struggle for wealth, in which the weak are trampled down and ruined; think of the shameful scenes which night after night make our streets hideous, and then ask whether or not Jesus weeps. And more than this, let us bring the matter home to ourselves. Each one of us is, so to speak, a city, a temple of the living God. We have been consecrated to Him in Baptism, as was Jerusalem by the coming of the Ark. God has promised that He will dwell in us. Are we trying to keep our lives pure and holy, remembering that we are the temples of the Holy Ghost? Is God dwelling in the holy of holies of our heart, or have we cast Him out, like Israel of old, to make room for some unworthy idol? A man's god is that which he loves, admires, and trusts to most. It may be money, it may be pleasure, or fame, or beauty: these are all idols.

Brethren, who is your God? Who dwells in the secret place, the holy of holies of your heart? God's people Israel were commanded to keep the sacred fire always burning upon the altar of sacrifice. It was never to go out. It was to be fed daily with wood, and with sacrifices of a sweet-smelling savour. It is supposed that this sacred fire was kept burning for a period of eight hundred years, till the reign of the wicked king Manasseh. From his days, when the fire was suffered to go out, the nation fell lower and lower into absolute ruin. When we were baptised, the sacred fire of the Holy Spirit came down upon the altar of our hearts. Are we keeping that holy flame alight? Are we feeding it with offerings of self-sacrifice and love; offerings of a sweet-smelling savour to God? If we have allowed the sacred fire to die out of our hearts God is no longer there. Our life is like the desecrated temple of the Jews, silent, abandoned by all, except by foul things which dwell in desolate places. Oh! that our eyes were open to see our true state; to see the things concerning our peace, before the fatal day when they shall be hid for ever from our eyes!

An ancient legend tells us that the Centurion who pierced our Lord's side at the crucifixion was a soldier named Longinus, and that he was blind. When the Blood poured from the wounded side of Jesus it was sprinkled on the blind eyes of the Centurion, and he received his sight and testified, "Of a truth this was the Son of God."

May that same Precious, Redeeming Blood open our eyes to see our sin, and to know Jesus as our Saviour. Then we shall ask Him to come into the temple of our heart, as He went into the Jewish temple of old, and to cast out all those evil demons of lust, and selfishness, and pride, and envy which defile the shrine of our body. We shall ask Him to cleanse and purify the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of His Holy Spirit. We shall ask Him to break down the idols which we have set up in His Holy Place, and to overthrow the altars reared to self. We shall pray that the sacred fire may once more be kindled, and the sacrifice and oblation of our love once more offered, since "the sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit, a broken and a contrite heart, O God, shalt Thou not despise."

Brethren, if we have caused Jesus to weep over our lives, to weep over our wasted chances and neglected opportunities; if He has mourned over the city of our life, wherein we have crucified Him afresh, let us turn to Him now. Those tears tell us of His love, His mercy, His great pitifulness. Let our prayer be now--"O be favourable and gracious unto Zion; build Thou the walls of Jerusalem. Lord, hear our prayer, and let our cry come unto Thee."

SERMON XLVI.

THE GRACE OF GOD.

(Eleventh Sunday after Trinity.)

1 COR. xv. 10.

"By the Grace of God I am what I am."

In the Epistle and Gospel of the day we read the words of two Pharisees, who offer a very striking contrast. The one is S. Paul, the great Apostle, who humbly declares that he is not fit to be called an Apostle, because he had persecuted the Church of Christ. The other is the nameless Pharisee of the parable, who trusted in himself, and despised others. In the case of S. Paul we see the marks of a true conversion, of a real repentance. He had been proud; as haughty and vain of his religion as the Pharisee of the parable; but he had seen his sin and repented of it, wherefore he abhorred himself. He had been brought exceeding low, and then it was that he was accepted to be God's Apostle. When he looked back upon his past life, the picture filled him with shame, and humility. He recalled the day when they stoned S. Stephen, and he was consenting to his death. He remembered how he had seized innocent men and women, and dragged them to prison, merely because they confessed Christ crucified. He knew that many a happy family had been broken up; many a child torn from its mother's arms; many a husband sent to chains and martyrdom, because of the faith of Christ. And remembering these things, S. Paul forgets the glorious work which he had since done for Jesus, and declares himself the least of all Apostles, unworthy of the name. He does not, like that other Pharisee, boast of his good deeds, but only declares humbly that it is by the Grace of God that he is what he is. Here, then, we have a test to try whether our repentance is real or not. When we look back upon our past sins and failures, does the memory make us sad--make us humble? If we do not hate our old sins our repentance is not true. And again, if the recollection of our faults does not make us _humble_, we have not really repented. Directly we find ourselves trusting in our own righteousness, and despising others; boasting of what we were, and what we are; walking through the world with our head lifted up, and talking with a stiff neck, let us be sure that we are in great danger. Let us get to our Lord right humbly, crying with the Publican "Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner." Learn, too, from S. Paul's words, that if we are trying to lead holy, gentle, pure lives, it is by God's grace that we are what we are. Not by our own sword and our own right hand have we gotten the victory. It is God's grace and help which alone help us to lead a holy life. Let us think, then, how that grace may be obtained. God's grace comes to us through certain channels ordained by God Himself, and these are, speaking generally, the Sacraments and Ordinances of the Church, Prayer, and the study of the Bible.

Let me speak of one special means of grace to-day--Confirmation. It may be that there are some here who are not confirmed, and are not willing to offer themselves for that holy rite. The hindrances which keep people from Confirmation differ with different people. There is one class of persons which will not be confirmed because it does not care about God, or desire to lead a holy life. A young man or woman of this class says, I mean to have my own way; I am not going to be tied and bound by promises and vows; I shall do what I like, whether it be right or wrong. Such persons are, I hope and believe, uncommon. Then there is a second class of people, which is indifferent about Confirmation, because it does not fully understand the blessings belonging to it. These people have probably never been taught true Church doctrine, and so they tell us that Confirmation may be a very good thing, but they can do very well without it. They tell us that they know such an one who has never been confirmed, and who is a very good man. They assure us that they do not "hold with Confirmation; they do not see the use of it." Precisely, they "do not hold" with it, because they know nothing about it. Then there are others who form a third class, who have grown up, grown old, perhaps, without being confirmed, who tell us that they are too old now; that they have lived all these years without Confirmation, and are all right, and that therefore they see no reason why they should come forward.

Now, I will say a few words to each of these classes of people. First, let me speak to those who refuse to be bound by any vow or promise, because they do not care to lead a godly life. They imagine that if they are not confirmed they are free to do as they like. But it is not so. They are bound by the vows and promises of their Baptism, and they cannot throw them aside. To such persons I say, you _are_ God's children, signed with the Cross, pledged to lead a holy life. If you make up your mind to have your own way, to do what you like, even though it be wrong, then you commit a deadly sin. You are doing just what Satan did, rebelling against God, and the wages of such sin is death. Understand distinctly that, as baptised people, you belong to God; if you sin, you sin against Jesus Christ; if you repent truly, God will pardon you for Christ's sake; if you go on sinning, you will be lost. If you say, I will not be confirmed, because then I shall be free to do as I like, you will be committing deadly sin, and saying what is not true also.

Next, I speak to those who are indifferent about Confirmation, because they do not believe, or probably understand, the benefits belonging to it. Let me speak very earnestly to them. I take it for granted that you want to please God; that you want to lead good lives; to be saved, to go to Heaven. You have been baptised, you bring your children to be baptised. Well, Confirmation and Baptism are very closely connected. Baptism _gives us life_; Confirmation strengthens us to _live that life_. Baptism is only the beginning of life. You know we have two kinds of life: that of the soul, and that of the body. When we are born our bodies are alive, but our souls are dead in trespasses and sins; we are spiritually dead. Now life is the gift of God the Holy Ghost; in the Creed we speak of the Holy Spirit as "The Lord, and Giver of life." In Baptism, God the Holy Spirit comes to us, we are born again of water and the Holy Ghost, we become new creatures. We are no longer children of sin, but children of God, and heirs of eternal life. Thus we begin our spiritual existence, and commence to walk in the narrow way. But not all who are baptised go on leading a holy life. It does not follow that because we are born again we shall be saved. We have been made God's children, but we may become prodigals, and leave our Father's House. We have been made heirs of everlasting salvation, but we may forfeit our inheritance. What we need is strength to keep on the right way, to persevere to the end, to resist the temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil. Now think specially about Confirmation. All of you will admit that we are very weak creatures. No one here will dare to say that he is strong enough by himself to keep on the right way. No one here will deny the truth of those words, "We are not sufficient of ourselves to think anything as of ourselves, but our sufficiency is of God." Well, if we are naturally weak, we need special strength and help, just as a new-born babe requires care, food, warmth, to keep it alive. We want strength to keep our souls, our spiritual nature, alive. Confirmation is one very important means by which this strength, this grace of God, is given to us. In Confirmation, God the Holy Ghost, who gave us life, makes us strong to live such a life here that we may abide with God, and continually dwell with Him hereafter. Surely there is no one amongst us unwise enough to say--I do not need this strength, I am strong enough by myself. But there are some here, perhaps, who will tell me that they do need strength, that they do want the help of the Holy Spirit, and that they can obtain that strength without being confirmed. They will tell me that they do not hold with rites and ceremonies, and that God can give us His grace without them. Yes, God _can_, but God will not. God will give us help in His own way, not in our way. He has ordained certain channels, as I have already told you, by which His grace comes to us, and by them only. There are some who say--"I do not see the need of Sacraments." Then why did God ordain Baptism, and order His disciples to baptise all nations? Why did Jesus, on the night of His betrayal, ordain the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and command His disciples--"Do this, in remembrance of Me?" Others, again, will say--I do not see the use of Confirmation, it is only a ceremony. Why then has the Church, from the earliest ages, from the days of S. Paul and the other Apostles, used Confirmation? If it be only a ceremony, what does the Bible mean by saying that when the Apostles laid their hands upon certain persons they received the Holy Ghost? And remember that what the Apostles did, the Bishops, as their descendants, have done ever since. But some men will say--why cannot God give me grace and strength without these forms? And I answer, simply because it is not God's pleasure; we are not to teach Him, but to obey Him. If you read your Bible you will find that God constantly used earthly means to provide spiritual blessings. When the people were threatened with the destroying angel in Egypt, they were bidden to sprinkle the blood of the Paschal Lamb on their door-posts. This was a rite, or ceremony, but if neglected, death followed. The Israelites, who were bitten by fiery serpents, were commanded to look on the brazen serpent, made and lifted up by Moses. That was a ceremony, but to disregard it meant death. When Naaman wished to be healed of his leprosy, he was bidden to wash in Jordan seven times. That was a ceremony, but it was the only means of his cure. There must be a channel, a communication, between God and man through which His grace comes. Suppose you were to come to a deep well, but had no pitcher or other vessel to let down into it, of what use would the water be to you? You forgot that "the well is deep, and you have nothing to draw with." You have seen the telegraph instruments in the post office. Well, there is plenty of electricity there to send your message for hundreds of miles, but if there is _no wire_ the force of the electricity is in vain.

But perhaps some men will say to me--I know certain sects who do not believe in Confirmation. My brethren, how does that concern you? I know certain people who never wash themselves, who never pray; but what have they to do with us? I am speaking to believers, to Church people, not to outsiders. I am speaking to those who are baptised into the Church of Christ, and for whom it was promised that they should be brought to the Bishop, to be confirmed by him. I think, then, that you must see that it is _right_ to be confirmed, because the Church has ordered Confirmation, and used it from the beginning; and next, that it is good for us to be confirmed, because we are too weak of ourselves to lead holy lives. Now let me say a word, in ending, to those who have grown up, grown old, perhaps, without Confirmation. What is their excuse? They say--I have neglected Confirmation so long, it is not worth while now. I have gone on so far without it, and I am all right. My brothers, how do you know that you are all right? You cannot see into your own heart, God can, and does. You may think you are alive, and behold, you are dead. You cannot be _all right_ whilst you are disobeying God. Remember Samson. He knew not that the Spirit of the Lord had departed from him. What if the Holy Ghost has left you, and you know it not? What if the Holy Spirit no longer dwells in you, what must the end of such a life be? Eternal death. Do you tell me that you have delayed so long that it is too late now? I answer, it is _not_ too late to mend. Suppose a man to have neglected prayer for years, is that any reason why he should not begin to pray now?

If any of you have neglected a plain duty, and shrunk from receiving the precious gifts of the Holy Spirit, make up for the past now; do not offer excuses, but never rest till you can say with truth, "By the grace of God I am what I am."

SERMON XLVII.

DEAF EARS AND STAMMERING TONGUES.

(Twelfth Sunday after Trinity.)

S. MARK vii. 37.

"He hath done all things well. He maketh both the deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak."

Such was the verdict of the people who saw one of our Lord's miracles. How far more strongly may we say the same, having seen the work of Christ in the life of the Church at large, and in each of our individual souls! We cannot look on the world of nature without echoing the words of the text. No thoughtful man can mark the spring-time coming to the woods and hedgerows, and waking the sleeping plants as with the wand of an enchanter, or see the orchards white into the harvest of fruit, or look into the gold mine of the ripe corn, or gaze at the slumbering earth in winter, wrapped in its white sleeping dress of snow, without acknowledging the truth that God hath done all things well in the _creation_ of the world. No Christian man can look at the earthly life of Jesus, without feeling that He hath done all things well in the _redemption_ of the world. Whether we look on Jesus as the lowly Child, setting an example of obedience, increasing in favour with God and man; or as the humble worker, showing the dignity of labour in the workshop of Joseph the carpenter; or as the Friend of Sinners, teaching the fallen woman at the well; or as the sympathising Brother of Humanity, weeping for Lazarus, and drying the tears of the widow; or as the Teacher, speaking as never man spake; or as the Meek Sufferer, bowed down in Gethsemane, silent before the jibing crowd, praying for those who nailed Him to the Cross, we must accept the perfect life, the perfect pattern, and declare--"He hath done all things well."

But turning from this subject in its wider sense, let us look specially at the miracle of to-day's Gospel. A man is brought to Jesus, deaf, and having an impediment in his speech. It is a well-known fact that those who cannot hear sounds are usually unable to utter them correctly. Now let us regard this miracle from a spiritual point of view. There are among us many who are spiritually deaf, and cannot speak aright. And it is because they are deaf to the voice of God, that they speak amiss. God utters His voice in many different tones, but their ears have waxed heavy and they cannot hear. God speaks to us by the _Voice of Nature_. This world has a myriad of voices for those who have ears to hear. There is the voice of praise and thanksgiving going up from singing bird, and rustling forest, and rushing waterfall. Every flower is an altar of pure incense, offering its sacrifice of a sweet-smelling savour. "Earth, with ten thousand voices, praises God;" and yet some of us hear nothing of these things because we are spiritually deaf. Again, God speaks to us by the _Voice of Conscience_--a still, small voice, speaking from the innermost sanctuary of our soul. And some of us hear it not. They have stopped their ears like the deaf adder, and so they go on wilfully sinning--deaf to the Voice of God. I have read how a notorious prisoner, who had been convicted of many serious crimes, was found to have the whole story of our Lord's crucifixion marked upon his breast. How utterly deaf to the voice of conscience that man must have been! Although he bore in his body the marks of the Lord Jesus, yet he was the slave of the worst sins.

My brothers, we all bear the sign of the Cross, given to us in our Baptism, and if our ears have become deaf to the Voice of God, that cross is a witness against us. Sometimes we hear of a man being arrested who has on him a certain letter, which marks him as a deserter from the army. Are there any among us who feel that God has set that fatal mark on them: the sign that they, once soldiers and servants of Jesus Christ, have deserted their Leader, gone back, and followed no longer after Him? Then again, God speaks to us by the _Voice of His Church_. There is no asylum in the world where you will find so many deaf people as at a service in Church. Their ears are open to listen to the praises of their friends, or the eager talk of the market, and the place of business; but the warnings of God, the message of Christ's pardoning love, the threat of punishment, or the absolving word, fall unheeded upon deaf ears. How often from that altar has the loving message been uttered--"Come unto Me, all ye that travail and are heavy laden," "Take, eat; this is My Body, which was given for you," and the deaf ears heard not, nor understood? How often has the wickedness of sin been proclaimed in this place, and the deaf ears heard only of _another's_ faults, without heeding the warning cry--"_Thou_ art the man?" And these people go through life unconscious of their danger, just as a deaf man would walk along a railway and never hear the sound of the advancing train.

Notice, too, that those who are spiritually deaf have also an impediment in their speech. This is shown in many different ways. When I find persons who will not speak out boldly for the honour of Jesus Christ, who will not confess Him before the world, I know they have an impediment in their speech. When I find persons in Church silent throughout the Service, making no responses, singing no Psalm, or Chant, or Hymn, I know they have an impediment in their speech: they will not put their tongue to its right use, which is to praise God with the best member that we have. If I find a man saying what is false, hesitating to give a plain, straightforward answer, I know that he has an impediment in his speech, his stammering tongue cannot utter the truth. If I hear a man wild with passion, using bad language, I know that he has an impediment, he cannot shape good words with his tongue. And so with those who tell impure stories, or retail cruel gossip about their neighbour's character, they are all alike afflicted people, deaf to the Voice of God, and with an impediment in their speech. And now let us look at the means of cure. They are precisely the same as those mentioned in to-day's Gospel. They brought the afflicted man to Jesus. That is the first step. If we would find pardon and healing we must be brought to Jesus. The Holy Spirit leads the sinner back in many different ways. It was the reading of one text of Scripture which turned Augustine from his evil life. It was the single word _Eternity_ printed in the tract which a man had torn scoffingly in two, and which lay in a scrap of paper on his arm, that led him to repent. Sometimes it is a word in a sermon, or a verse in a hymn; sometimes it is the question of a little child, or the sight of a dead face in a coffin; but whatever it is which brings us back to Jesus, that must be the first step to finding pardon and healing.

And next, Jesus was _besought_ to heal the afflicted man. My brethren, our plain duty, as Christians, is to intercede for our fellow men. We are often far too selfish in our petitions. Whilst we humbly remember our own sins, and pray for pardon, let us beseech the Lord also for others. And then Jesus took the man aside from the multitude. The Lord could have healed him with a word in the midst of that crowd; but He took him aside. Why? Surely to teach us a lesson, that if we want to be healed of our sins, we must go aside out of the crowd of our everyday words, and thoughts, and companions. We must seek some quiet time, and place, where we can get away from the world, and be alone with God. So much of the religion of the day is thin and shallow, because people do not think about it enough; they have never gone aside out of the world. The multitude of worldly cares and pleasures, work, money getting, politics, jostle them on all sides, so that they cannot come near to Jesus and be healed. Have you never felt this when you have knelt down to pray? You have not been able to tell your secrets to God, any more than you would tell them to a friend, in the midst of a multitude. You want to go aside out of the crowd, where you can speak quietly. When you have knelt down, although it may have been in your own room alone, yet there is a crowd with you--a multitude of disturbing thoughts. To-day's work, and to-morrow's pleasure, the money to be paid, or the money that is owing to you, the cares of eating, and drinking, and clothing, the recollection of a trouble, real or fancied, the remembrance of some sharp word that made us smart and tingle, all these things make a crowd, and keep us back from Jesus. I do not say that we can get away from the throng of thoughts entirely, but I _do_ say that we should try every day of our lives to go aside out of the crowd, and find a quiet time, when we can think, and talk to God.

And next, Jesus put His fingers into the deaf man's ears. If we would find pardon and peace, _Jesus must touch us_. It will not help us to believe only in a Saviour who died, we must acknowledge One who is alive for evermore. It will not avail us to think of a Jesus who has gone away into Heaven, we must look to Christ ever abiding here in His Church. When we draw near to Him in the sacred service of that Church, Jesus puts His Hands upon us. When we have truly repented of our sins, and the words of absolution are spoken, we have the pardoning Hand of Jesus laid upon us. When we kneel at the Altar of the Blessed Sacrament, Jesus touches our every part. Our sinful bodies are made clean by His Body. He lays His Hands upon ear, and eye, and tongue, and heart. He opens our eyes to see the wondrous things of His law; He unseals our ears to listen to the Voices of God; He touches our lips with a live coal from off the Altar, and our mouth shall show forth His praise. He strengthens our tottering feet to walk in the narrow way, and dismisses us with His Blessing, "depart in peace, thy faith hath saved thee."

Never look for Jesus afar off, or speak of Him as though He were lost. Jesus is here, standing in our midst to-day. He is ready now, as of old, to cure all manner of diseases. My brother, what aileth thee? Is it well with thee; is it well with the husband; is it well with the child? Prove to-day the truth of those words, "He hath done all things well. He maketh both the deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak."

SERMON XLVIII.

THE GOOD SAMARITAN

(Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity.)

S. LUKE x. 30.

"A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves."

The scene of the parable is a wild, lonely road between Jerusalem and Jericho. It is a road with an evil name for murder and robbery, and is called the red, or bloody way. The mishap of the traveller was common enough in our Lord's day, and is common enough now. But I would take the scene of this parable in a wider sense; I would ask you to look at it as the wayside of life. The road through this world is a dangerous way, leading through the wilderness, stained by many crimes, haunted by many robbers. Travelling along this highway of life, I see crowds of persons, of all sorts and conditions of men. And I see moreover that all of them bear scars upon them, as though they had been wounded, and many I see are lying by the wayside in sore distress. All have at some time or other fallen among thieves. There is a famous picture by the great French painter which illustrates this. It represents a number of different people journeying through the valley of this world. The way is rough and gloomy, and all bear signs of having known weariness and sorrow. The king is there in his royal robes, and wearing his crown; but his brow is furrowed with care, and he seems to ask, like our own King Henry--

"Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade
To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep,
Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy
To kings, that fear their subject's treachery?"

The poet is there crowned with laurel, but his eyes are sad, as though he felt how poor a thing is fame; how valueless the garland which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven. He looks with a yearning glance, as though searching for something not yet found. Even like the great poet Dante, who, when asked in exile by the monks, "My brother, what are you seeking?" answered, "I am seeking _peace_." The soldier is there, his sword hacked, and his armour marked by many a blow. But he seems "weary with the march of life," and looks sadly upon the glittering stars and crosses which adorn him, remembering how soon they will only serve to decorate his coffin. There, too, is the minister of state, who directed the fortunes of empires. "Whom he would he slew, and whom he would he kept alive." But his head is bowed with trouble, and he seems to look wistfully to the time when "the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." Among the crowd there are women; the widow with veiled head, and tearful eyes; the mother clasping her dead child; the poor slave, cowering beneath the lash of the taskmaster, and stretching out her chained hands for pity. There, too, are many sick folk. Blind men sit in darkness by the wayside; cripples drag their maimed bodies wearily along; beggars grovel in their sores and raggedness. And all these different people seem to turn their faces longingly to one place, where a bright light breaks over the dark valley, and where there stands One with outstretched arms, and loving smile. It is Jesus, the Good Samaritan, who is ready to help these travellers on the road of life; it is the Good Physician, who has medicine to heal their sickness; and who says to every suffering heart, king and beggar, desolate widow, weary warrior, childless mother, "Come unto Me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

My brothers, this life is a pilgrimage through the vale of tears, a journey along the robber-haunted road. Everywhere we see the traveller of the parable who has fallen among thieves. Some have fallen among Satan and his followers, thieves and murderers of souls. I see young men who have thus fallen. My brothers, where is the white robe of your Baptism, the shining armour of your Confirmation? Is that troubled face of yours the same over which a pure mother wept and prayed, and which she sanctified with holy kisses? Can you recall a time when you went through the world "wearing the white flower of a blameless life?" And now, your white robe is stripped off from you, your armour is broken and cast aside, there are ghastly wounds upon you. Your conscience is wounded, your good name is wounded, your purity is all stained and foul, you have trampled on the white snow of some innocent life. You have wandered out of the right way, and strayed into bad company, into the drunkard's haunt, or the gambler's den, or the house of shame. You have fallen among thieves, and they have stripped you, and wounded you, and left you half dead.