Chapter I: FIRST, Infidelity may proceed from the Pride of Reason (1)
When it pleased God to bestow the faculty of Reason on his creature, Man, he intended that this substitute of himself should be the guide of life, and the handmaid of Religion. And that it might serve to these purposes, it was made sagacious enough, if honestly exerted, to lead him to some competent knowledge of his Maker, and of his moral duty, and to judge of the pretensions of any further light from Heaven, which might be graciously vouchsafed to him.
Man, proud of this free Gift, was in haste to make trial of its strength; and finding it could do something, too easily concluded it could do every thing. Yet its weakness soon appeared; first, in man’s transgression, and consequent forfeiture of another free Gift, that of immortality; and next, in the portentous errors he fell into, both in respect of virtue and religion. For God, who had graciously intended for him, in due time, another and safer guide, to prepare him for the reception of it, and to convince him, in the mean time, how much it was wanted, had suffered him to abuse this, to the worst purposes, of immorality, and idolatry: by both which the earth was generally overspread for many ages, and even in the most enlightened times, notwithstanding his Reason might, and should have taught him better.
But God’s wisdom and goodness foresaw this abuse, and provided, from the first, for the correction of it. He had signified his purpose from the moment of man’s transgression, and afterwards by a gradual opening of his scheme, in many successive revelations; all terminating in that universal redemption of mankind by the sacrifice, and through the Gospel, of his Son. This last and greatest instance of the divine love for man, it might be expected, after so much experience of his own debility and folly, he would gladly and thankfully receive; and, that he might be qualified to discern the hand of God from the practices of fallible and designing men, was one main end, as I said, which God designed in lighting up the lamp of Reason in him.
But now this boasted Guide, though found to be poor and weak, grew proud and presumptuous. It would not only judge of the credentials of divine Revelation (which was its proper office, and without which faculty of judging there could be no security from the endless impostures of fanaticism and superstition, but not content with this power) it would decide peremptorily on the nature and fitness of the Revelation itself; and would either admit none, or such only, as it should perfectly comprehend.
Here, then, Reason forgot its own use, and power: its use, which was to bring him to the acknowledgement of a divine Religion; and its power, which did not enable him to judge of the infinite counsels of God, but to try whether any such were revealed to him. In a word, he forgot that his utmost capacity extended no farther than just to see whether the proposed Revelation were such as might come from God, as contradicting no clear and certain principles of reason, and whether the evidences were such as proved that it did so. If it contained nothing repugnant to right Reason, that is, to a prior light derived from the same source of Truth, it might come from Heaven; if the attestations of it were clear and convincing, it must proceed from that quarter. To try its credibility and authority, was then within the province of Reason: to determine of its absolute necessity and fitness, and to explore the depth and height of those counsels, on which it is framed, was above its reach and comprehension.
Yet Reason assumed to herself, too generally, this latter office; and this I call, the PRIDE of Reason. Hence all its wanderings and miscarriages; from this perverse application of its powers arose all the heresies that have distracted the Christian Church, and all the infidel systems that have been invented to overthrow it. In both cases, men would be wise _above_, or _against, what was written_.
Of the Heresies, I have nothing to say at this time. They appear at large in the ecclesiastical historian. Of the dreams of infidelity, as arising from the fumes of pride, so much is to be said, as my present subject requires of me, but this in as few words as possible.
_The pride of Reason_ has then pronounced (as it operated at different times, and on different tempers), that Revelation is unnecessary, because Reason could see and discover by its own light all that was needful to our direction and happiness—that, if it were wanted by us, it was impossible to be given consistently with the laws of nature and experience—that as to that pretended scheme of Revelation, called the Gospel, its morality indeed was pure enough, but that it carried no other internal marks of its divinity: that its doctrines were such as Reason would not expect, and in many cases could not understand: that it talked of divine things in a manner that was strange and extraordinary; of a purpose to redeem mankind which, if it were needful at all, might have been effected by more rational and less operose methods; and to save and sanctify them by such means as seemed fanciful and delusive: that the divine nature was spoken of in high mysterious terms, which puzzle and confound our Metaphysics; and that the offices, in which the Godhead was employed, are either degrading, or such as imply an immoderate and inconceivable condescension.
And what then, say others, is the basis on which this incredible Revelation rests? Why on _Miracles_, which we cannot admit, as being violations or suspensions of those laws, by which we know the Supreme Being governs the world; and on _Prophecies_, which may have been feigned, as many have been, or which imply such a prescience in the Deity of free contingent events, as is perhaps impossible. If the Gospel then is to be admitted as a truly divine Revelation, convince us, that its external proofs are above all doubt and suspicion; and that all its internal characters are such as lie open to the perfect scrutiny, and entire investigation of our faculties.
Thus does the Pride of Reason vaunt itself, against Reason. For, if to any or all of these objections (on which so many infidel systems hang) we should only say, _that they are nothing to the purpose_, what could the objectors reply to us? If pressed closely, they could only take refuge in this principle, _that no Religion can be divine, all the reasons of which are not fully known to us_; a principle, for which they have surely no warrant from right Reason. How do they know what is necessary, or fit, or right, with regard to the divine dispensations, I mean (which is the case here) when they only silence, not contradict our Reason? Every thing may be fit and right, and might appear to be so, if the whole scheme of Providence were fully unveiled to us. It must be fit and right, whether we see it or no, if the Religion in question be credibly attested: And the credibility will depend not on our fancies or expectations of I know not what irresistible evidence (which it might be best and wisest not to give) but on the real moment of the arguments, on which it is established.
So that the last effort of Infidelity is only an appeal to the ignorance of mankind; which proves nothing but the necessity of a long-forgotten virtue, Modesty, in our researches into Religion.
We see then how the _Pride of Reason_ has betrayed presumptuous men into a disbelief of Revelation, and how true it is that, _if the Gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost_, as well by _this_ means, as by any other.
II. But, secondly, there is A PRIDE OF VIRTUE, as well as of Reason: and by this Pride, too, (such is the infirmity of our common nature) _the Gospel may be hid from us_.
On whatever foundation a man chuses to build his moral system, he easily convinces himself of the worth and excellence of moral action. The reasonableness, the utility, and the beauty of Virtue are so conspicuous, that even the vicious look up to her with respect, and the virtuous easily grow enamoured of her. Thus it came to be among the extravagances of the Stoics, its best friends in the pagan world, that virtue was not only the perfection of man’s nature, but that it raised him in some sense, above the Divine[104]. And to make their arrogant system all of a piece, they further maintained that this super-celestial virtue, in which they gloried, was their own proper acquisition; that they derived it wholly from themselves, and that God did not, and could not give it[105].
This, you will say, was stoical pride; but it is, too commonly, also, the pride of virtue, of whatever denomination. Penetrated with a lively sense of its use and excellence, virtuous men, especially of a certain temperament, take fire from their own heated ideas, and flame out into a kind of moral fanaticism. They consider virtue, as the supreme and only good, absolute in itself, and independant of any other. They exalt and deify themselves in their own imaginations; and, though their language may be more decent, the sense of their hearts is truly stoical.
See, now, whether virtue, under this intoxication, be in a condition to benefit by the sober truths of the Gospel. It presents to us a frightful picture of the moral world; much is said concerning the weakness and inefficacy of moral virtue. This representation, of itself, is disgusting. But one great design of the Gospel was to reform this state of things: And thus far is well: But by what means would it reform it? Why, among others, by Faith and Hope. Yet, in Faith, the proud moralist sees no virtue, at all; and Hope, in his ideas, degrades and servilizes his adored virtue. The Gospel proposes to save us by the sacrifice of Christ: But He acknowledges no need of any sacrifice; relies, with confidence, on his own merits; and disdains the notion of an intercessor. He holds, that nothing more could be intended by a Revelation, if such were given, than the promotion of our virtue; and that we want not its aid, for that purpose: that we read our duty in the sense of our own minds; which Reason enforces in as high terms, as the Gospel, in a more engaging way, and on principles more sublime and generous.
Above all, the Gospel speaks much of the succours of Grace, as necessary to infuse and to confirm our virtue; a language, which the _Pride_ of virtue will not understand: And of a Heaven, and a Hell; by which if any thing more be meant than the proper natural effects of virtue and vice itself, the idea is rejected, as superfluous and even childish.
To such an extreme of folly, and even impiety, may the Pride of virtue carry us; and so fatally may _the Gospel be hid from those_, whom this last infirmity of human nature blinds by its specious illusions! And that this is no ideal picture, but one taken from the life, will appear to those who know any thing of human nature; and of the perverse prejudices, by which some ingenious, and otherwise virtuous men, have suffered themselves to be misled in their religious inquiries[106].
Enough has been said to shew the issue of intellectual and moral _Pride_: And how it comes to pass that men _lose_ themselves, who reason, on Religion, without modesty, or would be virtuous without Religion.
The application is short, but striking. It is, That men should examine themselves well, before they presume to think slightly of the Gospel. They may learn to suspect the power and influence of their grosser passions, when they see that even these refined ones may corrupt their judgement, and betray them into Infidelity.
The Apostle says expressly, that _if the Gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost_: and who, that rejects the Gospel, but must tremble for himself, when his REASON, nay his VIRTUE, may be the instrument of his ruin?
SERMON XXXVI.
PREACHED NOVEMBER 13, 1774.
1 PETER iii. 15.
_—Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh You a reason of the hope, that is in You, with meekness and fear._
These words have been often and justly quoted to prove the rational genius of our religion: but they have sometimes been quoted to prove much more, “The obligation, that Christians are under, to justify their religion, in the way of argument, against all opposers, and to satisfy all the difficulties and objections, that can be brought against it.” A magnificent pretension! but surely without authority from the text, as I shall briefly shew, by enquiring,
1. Who the persons are, to whom this direction is given:
2. What that _hope_ is, _which is in them_, and concerning which they are supposed to be interrogated: And therefore
3. Lastly, what the proper _answer_, or apology must be, of those persons, when required to give a reason of such hope.
The resolution of these questions will afford us a clear insight into the meaning of the text: and then we shall be enabled to make some pertinent and useful reflexions upon it.
1. St. Peter addresses himself to _the elect strangers scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bythinia_—i. e. most probably, to Jewish Christians, dispersed through these countries, in which they were properly _strangers_; though, in some sense, all good men are strangers and sojourners on earth, and therefore the use of this term may not necessarily exclude such Heathen converts to the faith, as lived in those quarters. But whatever be the precise meaning of the term, it is clear, that all persons of this general denomination, or all the _stranger_ Christians, residing in the places, here mentioned, are, without distinction, concerned in this catholic epistle. There is not a word that implies any difference of age, or sex, or education, or rank: not the least regard is had to the office of some, or the qualifications of others: all indiscriminately, of the class specified, who had knowledge and understanding enough to profess themselves Christians, are the objects of the Apostle’s address: and of these, universally, is the requisition made, that they be _ready always to give an answer to every man, that asketh a reason of the hope that is in them_. But what then
2. Is that _Hope_, of which all such persons were expected and required to render a reason? Plainly the general hope of Christians, the hope of eternal life, the hope of a resurrection from the dead, the blessed hope, in short, of salvation through Jesus Christ.
The context shews, that it was this hope, and this only, of which they were to give an account. For, in the preceding verse, the Apostle had been speaking of the trials which they should undergo for the sake of their religion. Possibly, they were, then, in a state of persecution; or, it was foreseen that they soon would be in that state. _But and if ye suffer, says he, for righteousness sake, happy are ye._ Why? because they knew the _hope_ of their calling, and the ample recompense that would be made them in a future life for all such sufferings. Therefore, he advises that they should always have this precious hope present to them, and well established in their minds: nay, and that, for their own better support in the midst of their sufferings, and for the vindication of themselves to others, their persecutors, perhaps, who might ask on what grounds they exposed themselves to such torments, they should have in readiness an _answer_, or apology for their own conduct, setting forth the reason they had to confide in that hope; from which reason it would appear that they acted, as became prudent men, and not as blind, frantic enthusiasts.
It being now seen, to whom the text is directed, and what the _hope_, under consideration, is, we have no difficulty in answering
3. The last question, “What the proper _answer_ might, or rather must be, of such persons, when required to give a reason of such hope?”
For what other answer could they give (and this they all might give), than that their Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, by whom they had been encouraged to entertain this hope, had shewn himself well able to make it good by his own resurrection? They might say, in the words of the Apostle Paul (who apologized for himself to the Athenians, in like circumstances), We therefore think ourselves happy in suffering for righteousness sake,—_because God hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the world in righteousness, by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead_[107].
This was an obvious reason of the _hope, that was in them_, and level to all capacities. It was, also, a sufficient reason, if it was any at all, that is, if the fact alleged be true; and, that it was so, they might appeal to the testimony of those, who had seen the Lord and conversed with him, after his resurrection; nay, whom themselves had seen confirming that testimony _by signs and wonders_, done in the name of Jesus.
We see, then, what is the true and full meaning of the text. The Apostle exhorts those, to whom he writes, all of them, the simpler, as well as more informed, to bear in mind the end of their religion, EVERLASTING LIFE; and the grounds, on which they expected it, the WORD of their divine MASTER, _confirmed to them by them that heared him_[108], and by his rising from the dead.
And now we are at liberty to make some reflexions on the text, which may be useful and instructive to us.
And, first, I observe, as most others have done, that Christians are allowed and encouraged to reason on the subject of their religion, and to build their faith on conviction. For the Apostle’s advice is, not to decline the way of argument, but to use such arguments as are cogent and satisfactory. And in this free exercise of the understanding, which is permitted, or rather enjoined to all Christians, the manly genius of our religion is seen, and by it is distinguished from that of every blind and servile superstition. But then,
Secondly, I observe, that this work of reason is enjoined, only, with regard to _the hope, that is in us_, that is, to the end and scope of Christianity, and to the authority on which it rests; in other words, with regard to the EVIDENCES of this Religion.
It is true, these evidences are a different thing to different persons, according to their respective situations. To the primitive Christians, such as those to whom the exhortation of the text is addressed, it was evidence sufficient, “That they had the great facts of the Gospel, especially that decisive fact, the resurrection of Christ, reported to them by persons, who had been eye-witnesses of those extraordinary transactions, or, who had heared them, at least, from eye-witnesses, and were endowed, besides, with the power of working miracles in confirmation of their testimony.” For in those days, it is to be observed, they, who were commissioned to plant the Gospel in the world, _went forth, and preached every where, the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following_[109].
This state of things continued through what is called the Apostolic Age, and perhaps longer, during which time it was easy for the plainest Christian to give such an _answer_, to these who required a reason of _the hope that was in him_, as was perfectly satisfactory. But, when the Gospels were admitted by the faithful, as authentic accounts of their Master’s history and doctrine, and when the Apostles had further drawn out and explained the principles and proofs of Christianity in their several writings, that is, when the Canon of the New Testament was completed, and generally received (all which was done within the first century from the Christian æra), Then the appeal lay to these scriptures, and the ground of a Christian’s persuasion was, the authority of the inspired writers. And now, if believers were asked the reason of _the hope that was in them_, the answer was, “That so it was written in books, which were in all hands, and allowed by all to contain nothing but infallible truth.” Nor could the force of this answer be disputed, when the memory of certain facts was recent, when the places where, and the person to whom, or for whose use the sacred books were written, could be pointed out, and when the writers of them were known, by the miracles wrought by them, to have been under the direction of the Holy Ghost.
On the conviction, which this apology carried with it, the world became Christian. But in process of time, and after a course of many ages, it might be doubted whether those books had been transmitted pure and uncorrupted. And under these circumstances the _answer_, being somewhat enlarged, stands thus: “That the hope of a Christian is founded on the authority of the sacred canon, composed by inspired men, as was universally allowed in the first ages of Christianity, and not materially altered, as we have reason to believe, to this day.”
The answer given in these three periods, is, you see, very general, because the question is, on what grounds of reason a plain man could justify his profession of Christianity: and the answer, in each case, is a proper one, and of real weight. But the answer of knowing and skilful men is more particular, may indeed be infinitely varied and extended according to the abilities of the answerer; and, from such minute, and laboured apologies much additional light and conviction hath been derived. Still you see the subject of inquiry, is, the EVIDENCES of Christianity, how different soever in different ages, and in the view of different persons in the same age. All that unbelievers have a right to ask, is, on what grounds we affirm the truth and divinity of our religion: and the sole duty which the text imposes upon us, is to satisfy that question. Their curiosity, and our labour, should not, at least needs not, be extended beyond these bounds. But
Thirdly, what if inquisitive men should go farther, and, when they have set forth the evidences of Christianity to their own satisfaction, and that of others, should proceed to give us a _rationale_ of its doctrines: Would not their pains be useful, as tending very much to promote the honour of our divine religion?
Perhaps, they might, if _soberly_ employed and if inquirers would set out with a resolution of stopping in their curious researches, when they had no ideas, or no clear or distinct ones.
But, even with this restriction, _two_ things are, further, to be observed. ONE is, that no Christian is bound to make this solicitous inquiry into the doctrinal, no, nor into the moral part of the Gospel. It is enough that his faith and life be regulated by its doctrines and precepts, whether he do, or do not, see the grounds in reason, on which they stand. Nay, possibly his conduct is then most acceptable, when he looks no farther than to the authority of the Gospel; agreeably to that well-known decision of our Lord himself—_blessed is he, who hath not seen, and yet hath believed_: not, that he expects any man to believe or to obey him, without reason: but he most approves the ingenuous turn of that man’s mind, who admits his divine mission, on a sufficient indeed, but not the highest, degree of evidence; and much more, therefore, who yields obedience to his laws, acknowledged on such evidence to be divine, without inquiring further into the reasons of them. Indeed, to what purpose do I scrupulously ask a reason of that, which I already know to be just and fit, because reasonably admitted to proceed from divine authority?
The OTHER observation I would make, is, That, if after the most diligent inquiry, we should not, yet, be able to penetrate the reasons of many things, or to give ourselves entire satisfaction about them, this unacceptable experience should not in the least affect our belief and esteem of the Gospel. For all that follows from such disappointed curiosity is only this, That we are weak and blind; and not that the things themselves are either false or unreasonable. Our duty, therefore, is to confide in the _revealed word_; not questioning its authority, or torturing its language; but accepting with thankfulness, what we do understand, and with reverence, what we do not.
When these two conditions are inviolably observed, the way of minute inquiry into the doctrines of Christianity, so far forth as they are the objects of inquiry, at all, may be usefully and commendably employed. For then none but men of leisure and ability will think themselves concerned in making such inquiry: and even these, if they should not obtain all the satisfaction they propose to themselves, will neither attempt to disturb the faith of others, nor suffer their own faith to be disturbed by their curious speculations. Still: when learned men are taken up in those profound inquiries, and seem most confident that they have penetrated far into the reasons of many things which are kept secret from others, they should especially remember (and that is the Fourth, and _last_ observation I shall make on the text), to present their _answer_ or apology to mankind, _with meekness and fear_.
1. With MEEKNESS, or a soft and gentle spirit, breathing in words, neither passionate, nor assuming; that so they may gain as many, and exasperate as few, as they can. This was a caution more than commonly necessary to the first apologists for Christianity, who had to plead its cause at the tribunal of Kings, at that time, their enemies and persecutors. But the rule is always a good one to be observed by the advocates of the Gospel, who never serve it better, than when its prime virtue, CHARITY, corrects, or rather consecrates, their zeal.
2. The _reason of the hope, that is in them_, should, also, be given _with_ FEAR: that is, not only with a _fear_ of giving needless offence to those, to whom they address their apology, but chiefly with a _reverential awe_ of that transcendantly great Being, whose ways they desire to contemplate, and some part of whose councils it is their ambition to unfold. For, when we speak of God, farther than we are authorized by himself to speak, we are in constant danger of ascribing to him our own weaknesses, and of degrading his ineffable wisdom, when we think to exalt it most.
Such reason there is, even when we apologize for the truth of God, to do it _with meekness and fear_.
To conclude: Religious inquiries, when thus conducted (and only then) are commendable and useful. They exercise our best faculties on the noblest subjects: They may be the means of bringing some to the kingdom of God, and they can alienate none from it. Or, whatever the merit and the success of these inquiries may be, the authors of them will have the satisfaction of knowing, that they have inquired in a right manner; and, that, how little soever their UNDERSTANDINGS have _profited_ the Almighty[110], they have honoured Him with the noblest sacrifice, which a mortal can offer to his Maker, that of an HUMBLE AND SUBMISSIVE SPIRIT.
SERMON XXXVII.
PREACHED FEBRUARY 4, 1770.
JOHN vii. 46.
_Never man spake like this man._
If by speaking, be here meant what is called _fine_ speaking, or a discourse artificially composed according to the rules of human eloquence, the subject is unworthy of this place, and the praise, infinitely disproportioned to the divine character of Jesus. A pagan philosopher, nay, and a Christian preacher, might haply so far forget himself, as to affect the credit of _fine speaking_; or, his followers might think to honour him by applauding this talent[111]: But the Son of God spake with other views, and to nobler purposes; and his inspired historians would not have condescended to make the panegyric of their Master, from so trivial a distinction.
Let us see, then, to what the encomium of the text amounts; and what those CIRCUMSTANCES are, in the discourses of Jesus, which give real weight and dignity to the observation—_that never man spake like this man_.
This will be an inquiry of use, and not of curiosity only; we shall find, in the course of it, very much to confirm our faith, as well as to excite our admiration.
I. The first particular, that strikes an attentive mind in considering the discourses of Jesus, is the MATTER of them; the most important; and, at the same time, the most extraordinary; of the utmost consequence to mankind, and the most remote from all their natural apprehensions.
But, by the discourses of Jesus, so qualified, I mean chiefly those, which are truly his own, and properly _Christian_: such as acquaint us with the dignity of his person, and nature of his office; with the purpose of his mission, and the manner in which that purpose was to be effected.
His moral discourses, though they be divine too, yet, being intended, for the most part, to deliver the religion of nature, or the religion of Moses, in all its purity, may be thought to contain nothing more than what human reason had, or might have discovered, or what the Law of God, at least, had already revealed. Yet it may deserve to be mentioned as an argument of his superiority to all other moral instructors, that HE ONLY has delivered a doctrine of life and manners, free from all mixture of error, and carried in some instances to a degree of perfection which, I do not say Reason, but, no Doctor of reason ever prescribed; and that he penetrated further into the true meaning of the Jewish Law, than any of its expositors had ever done.
But, as I said, I confine myself to his _peculiar doctrines_, such as constitute the substance of that religion, which we properly call Christian.
And here, the weight of his doctrine must be felt by those persons who reflect that, coming into a world overrun with vice and misery, he proclaimed pardon and peace in this life, and everlasting happiness and glory in the life to come, to all who with penitent hearts and true faith turned to him. What Doctor, Philosopher, or Legislator _ever spake as He spake_, on these important articles? What had Nature taught the Gentile world? Some fine lessons of morality, indeed, which might direct their lives for the future; but none that could set their minds at ease from past guilt, none that could free their consciences from instinctive terror, much less could erect their hopes to any assured prospect of immortality. What had Moses taught the Jews? A divine religion, it is true, but such as left them under the burthen of a painful and oppressive ritual, in which the neglect of any one precept, or the irregular performance of any, might shake their security; and of which, when punctually observed, the reward was only some present ease or convenience in this world. What was there in either institution, that could deliver men from all doubt and uncertainty about their future condition, or that could disarm and appease the universal guilt of mankind?
Let this then admonish us of what, from its familiarity, we are, now, so prone to forget, the importance, which characterized the doctrine of Jesus.
The _extraordinary nature_ of it equally appears; but will further and chiefly be seen, if we attend to the means, by which this supreme blessing is said to be conveyed, and effected.
That a divine person, divine in the highest sense of the word, should descend from heaven and take our nature upon him; _the Heir of all things_[112] should be content to appear _in the form of a servant_[113]; and, having _life in himself_[114], should chuse to suffer death; that, by this astonishing humiliation, he should propose to effect an end, equally astonishing, The salvation of a ruined world; that, being without sin himself, he should offer himself a sacrifice for sin; that in virtue of his all-atoning death, he should undertake to abolish death, and open the gates of eternal life to the whole race of mortal man; that, in this way, he should assume to be our _Wisdom and Righteousness_, our _Sanctification and Redemption_[115]; These are the great things of which Christ _spake_; these the amazing topics with which he filled his discourses. And must we not conclude, that _he spake as never man spake_? I do not, at present, urge the accomplishment of all these wonders. That is a distinct consideration. But it must be allowed, that he _spake_ in this tone, and to this effect. And did ever any man before him utter such things? Did it ever enter into the heart of man to conceive such things? which surely are enough to arrest our attention; to turn our thoughts on the evidence, with which they are accompanied; and, till we admit the force of that evidence, to convince us, at least, that such a speaker as this, is eminently distinguished from all other speakers, that ever addressed themselves to mankind. He discovered, on other occasions, no defect of mind, or temper; nothing, that should lead us to suspect him of weakness, or enthusiasm; And when such a person so speaks, the sublime and extraordinary nature of his doctrine is no small presumption of its truth.
II. Another circumstance that distinguishes the discourses of Jesus, is the AUTHORITY, with which they were delivered. The people themselves remarked this circumstance, and were astonished at it; _for he taught them_, says the sacred historian, _as one who had authority, and not as the Scribes_[116].
Interpreters differ in explaining what this _authority_ was; but it consisted, very clearly, in these three things. 1. He taught mankind without any degree of doubt and hesitation, with the air of one who knew the truth of what he said, and was perfectly assured of all he spake. _Verily, verily, I say to thee, we speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen[117]._ 2. He taught his great lessons of morality and religion, not as derived from the information of others, or from the dictates of his own reason, but as immediately conveyed to him from the source of light and truth, from God himself. _Whatsoever I speak, even as the Father said to me, so I_ speak[118]. 3. Lastly, He delivered his doctrine on very many occasions, as the proper author of it, as one who had a right to propose the terms of Salvation, in his own name. I _say unto You_—is the formulary, with which he prefaces his momentous instructions. _He that believeth on the Son, hath everlasting life, and_ I _will raise him up at the last day_[119]. _Be thou faithful unto death, and_ I _will give thee a crown of life_[120]. Nay, he goes so far as to assert expressly, _that he hath life in himself, even as the Father hath life in himself_[121]. And though he says, at the same time, that he had this privilege given him by the Father, and though he declares, elsewhere, that as the _Father had taught him, so he spake_[122]; yet there is no contradiction in these affirmations; for he tells us expressly—_All things that the Father hath, are mine_[123]; _And I and the Father are one_[124].
These three circumstances, taken together, constitute the proper authority of Christ’s doctrine. It was the authority of one, who spake from conviction; who spake by the special appointment of God the Father, who even spake, by virtue of his own essential right, from himself, and in his own name.
Compare, now, this _authoritative_ way of speaking, with that of the Jewish scribes; who explained their Law, as they could, by the precarious traditions of their forefathers, and the uncertain glosses of their celebrated Doctors: Compare it with that of the Gentile Philosophers; who quibbled, by the help of a little logick or metaphysicks, on the nature of God and the Soul; who advanced their doctrines of futurity, on the credit of an old fable, or an old song; and even delivered their moral lectures on the weak grounds of their fanciful or discordant systems; in the way of negligent speculation, or, which was worse, of altercation and dispute: Compare it, lastly, with that of all others, who, in antient or modern times, have taken upon themselves to instruct mankind; and see, if any of these ever assumed the exalted tone, or spake with the _authority_ of Jesus, of _the Carpenter’s Son_, as Julian and the followers of that school affect to call him.
But high pretensions, you will say, prove nothing. Not much, indeed, when destitute of their proper supports; yet so much, as to verify the observation of the text—_that never man spake like this man_. And if they prove thus much, they prove more; the necessity, or reasonableness, at least, of examining whether these pretensions be well founded. For claims of so extraordinary a nature, as they must needs awaken our curiosity, so they may demand our belief. When a voice speaks, as from heaven, it naturally turns our attention to that quarter; and, when it speaks in _inimitable thunder_[125], it speaks, methinks, like itself, and in accents that cannot well be misunderstood.
But our next observation will carry us further. For I make it
III. A third circumstance, in the character of Christ’s _speaking_, that he expressed himself with more than mortal WISDOM, on many occasions, when the malice and captious subtlety of his enemies put that wisdom to its utmost test.
He gave early proofs of his wisdom, when, at the age of twelve years, he reasoned with the Doctors in the temple, to such effect, _that all who heared him, were astonished at his understanding and answers_[126].
These answers, indeed, are not recorded; but many others are, in the course of his ministry; answers to nice, insidious, and concerted questions of the ablest men among the Jews, in critical circumstances, and on the most trying emergencies. And to these questions he always replied with a presence of mind so unshaken, with a judgment so infallible, with a dexterity and prudence so conciliating, and at the same time with an integrity so pure and perfect, that no advantage could in any degree be taken against him. His adversaries came again and again to the charge; whom yet he repelled with so triumphant a superiority over all the efforts of their wit and malice, that he forced them in the end, _to marvel and hold their peace_[127]. His divine responses came out so contrary to their hopes and their interests, that they were discouraged and deterred from provoking any more of them—_they durst not ask him any more questions_[128].
The limits of this discourse will not give room for a detailed account of these questions and answers. But they are thick sown in the Gospels: And ye will understand me to point more especially at those, that respected his divine character, and kingly office[129]; in which conversations the danger was, lest he should drop something that might be made a handle against him before the Jewish Consistory, or the Roman Tribunals; while yet he was not to betray his cause, or bely his pretensions. The danger was instant, and, if he had fallen under it, must have been fatal. For, in withdrawing his claim of being the Messiah, the _King of Israel_, he must have owned himself an impostor; in asserting it, at this time, clearly and openly, he would have given his enemies a pretence for treating him, as a criminal of state; an imputation which could not consist with the truth or dignity of his mission. He came into the world to suffer death, indeed; but not as convicted of any crime, not as colourably condemned by any legal sentence. His innocence was to be conspicuous, and his honour unimpaired[130].
In this respect, then, it seems, as if it might be truly affirmed, that _never man spake as this man_. And, if this much must be allowed, we are, methinks, but a little way from a further conclusion, _That, therefore, he spake by a divine spirit_.
If it be said, that this conclusion does not hold, _for that the same faculties of the human mind, which make us capable of_ SEEING _this wisdom, may have_ PRODUCED _it_, the ground of the observation is neither likely, nor true. Not likely in the present instance, where the wisdom in question appears to be exquisite and constant: qualities which we are not accustomed to find united in the efforts of human wisdom. But neither, in general, is the position true: For then, the power of perception and invention would be the same; then, the divine intellect would be levelled with the human; then, the wisdom of God himself, so far as it was acknowledged and understood by us, would be our wisdom. Whereas, common sense tells us, that to discover a truth and to apprehend it, to project a measure, and to conceive the fitness of it, are two things[131]: And, though men differ widely in their capacities from each other, yet there is a capacity, which no man may claim, as there is a wisdom, to which no man pretends. The sublime views of God in the system of nature are comprehended, to a certain degree, and justly magnified and unfolded by many men, who, yet, have not the presumption to suppose that they were themselves capable, of planning such a system. In like manner, we may see and adore the wisdom, with which Christ _spake_, and yet conclude, upon good grounds, that as no man ever did, so no man ever could, speak with such wisdom.
IV. A fourth circumstance (and the last I shall mention) which distinguished Jesus, as a Speaker, was the penetrating influence of his discourses, or the divine ENERGY, with which they were accompanied.
Other speakers have thought it enough to convince their hearers by cogent arguments; to excite their passions by lively images; to touch the general springs of humanity, or to practise on the peculiar foibles and prejudices of the party addressed. But Jesus had the singular art to convince without reasoning, and to persuade without rhetorick. Few and simple words, from that mouth, attained their end with ease: they struck the soul with more than all the effect of that eloquence, which hath been compared to lightning: they needed no help from tropes and figures, from the acquired knowledge of human nature, or from the information of others, but went directly to the heart by their own proper and irresistible virtue. In a word, Jesus saw what no art could divine, he saw intuitively the naked conscience, the secret individual thoughts of those, with whom he had any concern; and being able, withal, to possess their minds with a consciousness of this intuition, his least word, his look, nay his silence must needs _speak_ beyond the eloquence of other men.
There are many instances of this sort, recorded in the Gospels. He saw the malice of the Scribes and Pharisees[132], while it was yet latent in the heart, and only forming itself into secret purposes and mental propositions; and he surprized them by his answers, into shame and _madness_[133]. He saw the seeds of ambition putting forth in the minds of his disciples: and by a word or two, he prevented the growth of them[134]. By only _looking_ upon Peter[135], he struck him into remorse and tears. And by _answering nothing_, he _astonished_, at once, and convinced the Roman Governor, who sat in judgment upon him[136].
This inspection of the heart, was that which confounded the officers, whom the chief priests had sent to apprehend him, and drew from them, on their return, the advantageous report of the text—_that never man spake like this man_. For, by what he said in their hearing, he gave them to understand that he knew their commission before they had opened it: and so disarmed their rage, by only signifying his acquaintance with their design.
The effect of what he said and did was, in many conjunctures, wholly disproportioned to his words and actions: and is only to be accounted for, from the clear insight he had into the mind, and from the secret influence which he knew, by an apt sentence[137], or by an expressive emblem[138], to inject into the conscience of his hearers. And what resistance can, indeed, be made to such a _speaker_, who hath the hearts of men in his hands, and _turneth them whithersoever he will_[139]?
In all views, then, whether we consider the _matter_, the _authority_, the _wisdom_, or the _effect_ of Christ’s discourses, we must needs be convinced that the text is amply verified, and that _never man spake like this man_.
To conclude: I have not amused you, in this discourse, with vain declamation. I am not solicitous to establish the credit of Jesus, as a consummate orator. My views are other and far higher. I would convince you, by a reference to plain facts, that he was more than man; that he spake by the unerring spirit of God; that his word demands not your praise, but your adoration.
If men would take their ideas of this divine teacher immediately from his own doctrines, and not as they are misrepresented, or at best imperfectly represented by the glosses of others, they would come, of themselves, to this important conclusion: if they would make the Gospel their serious study, and not their casual amusement, they would want no monitor to let them into the merits, or the use of it. They would more than see, they would feel the spirit, with which Jesus spake; and they would readily offer to him, not their barren applause, but their sincere obedience.
Till this salutary effect be wrought in those who call themselves the disciples of Jesus, it may not be improper to remind them of what he himself said to ONE, who was affected, as we may now be, by a sense of his divine power in speaking. He had been delivering great truths, with that authority and wisdom, which ever accompanied his instructions, and the effect was answerable. For _it came to pass_, as he _spake these things, that a certain woman of the company lifted up her voice, and said to him_, in the customary style of approbation, _Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the paps that thou hast sucked. But_ HE _said, Yea, rather blessed are they that_ HEAR THE WORD OF GOD, AND KEEP IT[140].
SERMON XXXVIII.
PREACHED NOVEMBER 20, 1774.
MATTH. xiii. 10.
_The Disciples came, and said unto him, Why speakest Thou to them in Parables?_
Two things are very observable in our Lord’s conduct towards the Jews. He came to _instruct_ them in the principles of a new religion, and to _convince_ them of its divine authority. Yet to such of them, as were least enlightened by his doctrine, he generally addressed himself in Parables: And before such, as were backward to admit his pretensions, he was sparing of his Miracles. Now the contrary of this conduct, it is said, might be expected: That he should have explained himself in the clearest manner to the uninformed Jews; and should have multiplied his miracles, for the conviction of the unbelieving.
I propose to consider both these circumstances in the history of Jesus; and to shew that his conduct, in either case, was suitable to his character and mission.
I, now, confine myself to the PARABLES; and shall take another occasion to consider the MIRACLES.
The Disciples, having observed that their Master spoke to the Jews in a more obscure and indirect manner, than he was wont to do in private to themselves, _came and said unto him, Why speakest thou to them in Parables?_
This method of conveying instruction in Parables, that is, in some feigned story, where one thing is put for another, and in which the circumstances of the story are to be applied to something different in the intention of the speaker, is well known to have been of constant and familiar use in the old world, and especially in the Eastern nations. This figurative cast of language had its rise from necessity, the rude conceptions of men requiring general truths to be presented to them, in sensible images. But it soon came to be affected as an ornamental way of speaking or writing, the liveliness of the image awakening curiosity, and affording amusement to the mind. Lastly, it was sometimes employed as a mysterious cover of important truths, to which a more than ordinary attention was to be raised, and especially of such important truths as could not be communicated openly and directly without offence. Under this last idea, the Parable, properly so called, presents itself to us. It was contrived on purpose to throw some degree of obscurity over the information, it contained: And it is in reference to this use and character of the Parable, that the Disciples ask why Jesus thought fit to address the Jews in this way.
To this question, why he spake to the Jews in Parables, and not to the Disciples, our Lord’s reply is in these words—_Because, to you it is given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God, but to them it is not given_.
By this answer we learn, _First_, that the things delivered by him in this obscure way were not the fundamental truths of the Gospel, but _the mysteries of the kingdom of God_, that is, certain secrets relating to the progress of the Gospel, and the event of it in the world; a consideration, which will be enlarged upon in its place: And, _Secondly_, that it was not _given_ to the Jews, at large, to be let into those mysteries, but to the disciples only.
But why _not given to the Jews_? why was it thought less fit for them, to be initiated in these mysteries, than for the Disciples? Our Lord condescends to answer, or rather to anticipate this question, likewise—_For whosoever hath, to him shall be given and he shall have more abundance; but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath_.
The answer, we see, is formed on this general principle, “That information in the councils of God is not to be claimed as a debt; but accepted as a reward: that he, who hath acquired some knowledge and improved what he hath, deserves a further communication of it; but that he, who hath been at no pains to acquire any, or who puts his knowledge to as little use, as if he had acquired none, is so far from having a right to more, that he even deserves to have the pittance, he may already possess, taken from him.” And what more indisputable rule of reason, than this, That, in a matter of pure favour, we should deserve, by our good dispositions at least, this distinction before we obtain it. So that the answer comes out thus—“I speak to the JEWS in parables, because they do not deserve, by the pains they have hitherto taken to learn of me, and by the dispositions they have shewn to improve what I have taught them, to have further information plainly and openly conveyed to them: But to YOU, who have already profited by my doctrine, and are disposed still further to profit by it, to you I address myself in a plainer manner, because ye deserve to be more fully and abundantly instructed by me.” And to this answer, thus understood, what objection, or even what cavil, can be opposed?
But, further, when Jesus said to his Disciples, that _to them it was given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of God, but to the Jews_, at large, _it was not given_, this determination must be understood as founded, not merely on the fitness of the thing, as here explained, but on the positive will and declared purpose of God. This appears from what follows. For _therefore_, proceeds our Lord, _speak I to them in Parables, because they seeing see not, and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand. And in them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaias, which saith, by hearing Ye shall hear and shall not understand, and seeing Ye shall see and shall not perceive. For this people’s heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed, lest at any time they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and should understand with their hearts, and should be converted, and I should heal them._
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The works of Richard Hurd, volume 7 (of 8)Chapter I: FIRST, Infidelity may proceed from the Pride of Reason (1)
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