For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down
first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to
finish it? Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and
is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock
him, saying, This man began to build, and was not able to
finish.--_Luke 14, 28-30._
In the pass of Thermopylae, in the country of Greece, there stands
a monument, world-renowned, erected to Leonidas and his valiant
three hundred. It bears the inscription: "Go, stranger, and tell
at Sparta that we died here fighting to the last in obedience to
our laws," and commemorates that thrilling event when Leonidas
with his three hundred successfully held the pass of Thermopylae
against tremendous odds until betrayed into the hands of the enemy.
What it bears magnificent witness to is the quality of loyalty,
steadfastness. The same noble quality does God require, look for,
in His people. The Apostle in to-day's Epistle, summing up the
conduct of the spiritual soldier, says: "Stand, therefore, and
having done all, stand," and again, emphasizing the same virtue, he
remarks: "Watching thereunto with all perseverance." It is not the
boldest regiment that always makes the best record, but that which
holds out the longest. It is not the most enthusiastic Christian and
ardent church-member that wins His Master's commendation, but he
that proves "faithful." The parable of our text brings home to us
the same lesson. It tells us of a man who contemplates the erection
of a tower. Before entering upon his enterprise, he first sets down
and, with pencil in hand, figures the cost, whether his funds will
permit him to undertake the matter, lest, having begun and failing,
he become the laughing-stock of his neighbors, and the uncompleted
structure a monument to his folly. Equally so, does the Savior point
out, is it, in another sphere, the realm of religion. A person hears
the call of religion, feels its power and promptings, its necessity
and claims; his heart is persuaded, his mind is made up, he ought
to, and wants to be, a Christian, in the words of the parable, he
contemplates the erection of the tower, but ordinary prudence bids
that he should sit down and consider the costs, lest, beginning and
not completing, the venture end in dismal failure, and he become the
object of mockery and contempt. And yet is it not this ordinary,
common-sense method, which they apply so keenly otherwise, that so
many disregard in matters of soul? Why else would there be so many
apostates, fallings away, in the ranks of confessed believers? Let
us, then, wisely and for once sit down for a few moments in public
Christian worship, and consider this matter, noting: _The parable
of the tower--an exhortation to Christian steadfastness._ We shall
group our remarks around two chief thoughts: _I. What does it cost
to be a Christian?_ _II. Does it pay to be one?_
To begin with, let it be noted that Christianity connects with cost;
it _does_ cost to be a Christian. There is a type of religion which
is not only a very easy, but a most inexpensive kind. Putting on the
garment and speaking the language of godliness, it is stranger to
its power. However, that type is not the building of a tower, rather
of a shack, a flimsy construction which the slightest wind-storm
and rising rivulet will soon sweep away. In building a substantial
structure, the first concern is the foundation. You do not see that,
it is hidden from view; yet upon that foundation rests the building,
and it is just as strong as its foundation. So, spiritually, the
main part of Christianity is hidden, it is something that takes
place away from human view; yet upon that unseen experience rests
its reality, its strength. What is that experience?
In laying a foundation, there is, first, the excavation, the removal
of the soil, of all obstructions and obstacles. This is difficult
work and costly work. So, spiritually, religion calls for the
removal of obstacles, obstructions, soil. Man's heart is not fit
to build the tower of Christ's religion, it must undergo a change;
"old things must pass away." There must be a plowing up. There are
painful memories to be recalled, sins to be mourned over, habits
and ways of thinking and doing to be given up, likes and loves and
feelings to be renounced. It is as true now as it ever was that
"except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." We
call this repentance, contrition, sorrow over one's sin. It means
the reconstruction and transformation of one's nature, and costs
many a pang, many a sigh, many an inner struggle and protest.
Then, when the rubbish and soil have been removed, the excavation
has taken place; there must be a laying of the foundation. Which
that foundation is, is plain. "Other foundation can no man lay than
that is laid, which is Jesus Christ." Belief in Christ, faith in the
Savior, must follow, else there can be no tower. My dear hearer,
have you undergone that change of heart, experienced that inner
sorrow? Have you paid the first cost?
Laying a foundation without building thereupon does not answer the
purpose. We must add a superstructure, and this also costs. And
what is the superstructure? St. Paul speaks of it when he writes:
"I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God that ye present
your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which
is your reasonable service," when he says to the Corinthians: "Ye
are bought with a price, therefore glorify God in your bodies and
in your spirits, which are God's," or quite briefly remarks: "For
me to live is Christ." We call this adding of the superstructure,
consecration, and what does it involve? Everything. Beginning with
yourself, it levies upon your body, your mind, your soul, your time,
talents, influence, possessions, property, money, your all. It is
just to this particular, of consecration, dedication of oneself and
possessions, that Christ refers in the verses preceding the text:
"If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and
wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own
life, he cannot be my disciple."
Earthly love, domestic relations, material considerations--nothing
is permitted to stand in the way of absolute and entire consecration
of oneself, and all one has and possesses, to Christ. Beloved, is
this not a particular which many who profess to be Christians do not
apprehend? When they are called upon to give themselves, of their
time and means and ability, to the cause of the Lord, they feel and
act as though some great thing is being asked of them, that they are
doing something superfluous. They need not feel so. It is a matter
they ought to have weighed when they entered upon Christian life.
God lays His hand upon all that you are, and all that you have, and
says: "This is mine," and only he and she are building properly upon
the foundation which is Christ who say: "Here, Lord, am I and all
that is mine. Upon thy altar it lies in holy consecration. Lord,
what wilt Thou have me do?"
And one other cost would we mention. It costs courage. Not exactly
the same courage as when called upon, in the early centuries, to
face the tortures of the rack, the beasts of the Coliseum and the
flames of the martyr's stake, yet a courage, none the less noble,
a moral courage. There are plenty of things to discourage us. "Is
this vile world a friend to grace to help me on to God?" No, it is
not. It is full of conflicts and criticisms and sharp collisions.
If so many Christians of our day have such a good and easy time of
it, is it not because they are not Christians after the style of the
apostles and the early martyrs?
Satan is still the god of this world, and one need only take a
decided stand against him, and the things that belong to him,
to find it out. Yes, it costs something to be a Christian, a
consecrated church-member. A Christian cannot be, cannot act and do,
as non-Christians, non-church-members act and do. Aye, does it not
frequently call for courage even to be known as a church-member? The
finger of scorn is pointed and the sneer of sarcasm is hurled at
many a one for that.
Nor only from those that are without; discouragement frequently
comes from those who are within. Christians are the communion of
saints, but their behavior toward each other is not always saintly.
Human nature, everywhere ugly and crabbed, is apt to make itself
manifest there too. Appreciation deserved, gratitude looked for, is
not always received. And this is very trying, betimes; in fact, some
think that it is beyond all endurance, judging by their withdrawal.
But have those that so feel ever thought it over? Whoever builds
a house without having some unpleasantness, and sometimes great
unpleasantness? But does he, therefore, desist from completing the
structure? Know, my dear hearer, whatever may be the nature of the
annoyances, difficulties, and hindrances to Christian life and
church-membership, they belong to the costs, and when they occur,
face them with becoming courage and steadfastness. A sorry soldier
that will throw away his gun and quit the ranks because of the
discouragements in the way! This, then, is what it costs to be a
Christian--repentance, consecration, courage.
And are the returns adequate to the cost? What benefit is there
in being a Christian, erecting such a tower? Does it pay? There
are people who think not. They consider that they make the most by
keeping aloof. Whether they have done it by careful figuring out,
like the man in the parable, is doubtful, but they are persuaded
in their own mind that they are the gainers by not identifying
themselves with Christ and His Church. They do not like religious
restraints. They wish to be free to do as they please. They can
enjoy more of the comforts and pleasures of life, can pursue
their ways with less compunction, make more money, gain more
friends, if they keep themselves out of the church entanglements
and obligations. So they reason and congratulate themselves. But
what advantage have they over us? The truth is that there is not a
single relation or human interest in which it does not pay to be a
Christian. To specify briefly: It pays to be a Christian physically;
godliness teaches and inculcates all those laws and things that
produce and promote health, the welfare of one's body. It pays to
be a Christian materially, in one's labors and business. To be a
good man, to have the reputation of honesty, is as fine a business
capital as any one would want. It pays domestically; the home where
godliness prevails approaches the ideal home and is the strongest
bulwark of society. The same holds good with regard to the joys
of life. "Religion was never devised to make our pleasures less."
Religion sanctifies our pleasures; it draws the checkreins upon
ungodly extravagances and excesses; and so it pays also in this
respect. And when it comes to the dark side of life, the manifold
difficulties and troubles that accompany man in his abode here
below, "when other helpers fail and comforts flee"--oh, for the
power, the comfort, the divine support of religion! And we have said
nothing yet of the strictly spiritual advantages. It pays to be a
Christian; a Christian possesses a good conscience, which is more
valuable than all of this world's possessions, the sunshine of God's
forgiveness and favor through faith in his Savior; the blessed joy
and inspiration that comes from prayer and worship of God. Nor does
the matter stop there. When the scenes of this time and world fade
upon our vision; when, passing through the dark and shadowy valley
and before the judgment seat of Him to whom we must give account;
when the glories of the Golden City open and the crown immortal is
placed upon our brow,--then we shall realize that it pays to be a
Christian.
To conclude,--there should be any right-thinking, calculating person
that, having begun, will fail to complete the building of this
tower? How foolish before God and men, how dangerous!
Be steadfast! be wise!--
"Build on, my soul, till death
Shall bring thee to thy God;
He'll take thee at thy parting breath
To thy divine abode."
Amen.