I take it that the word 'saved' here is rather used with reference to
the imagery of the parable than in its full Christian sense of ultimate
and everlasting salvation, and that its meaning in its present
connection might perhaps better be set forth by the rendering 'safe'
than 'saved.' At the same time, the two ideas pass into one another;
and the declaration of my text is that because, step by step, conflict
by conflict, in passing danger after danger, external and internal,
Jesus Christ, through our union with Him, will keep us safe, at the
last we shall reach eternal and everlasting salvation. 'He will save
us' by the continual exercise of His protecting power, 'into His
everlasting kingdom.' There is none other shelter for men's defenceless
heads and naked, soft, unarmed bodies except only the shelter that is
found in Him. There are creatures of low grade in the animal world
which have the instinct, because their own bodies are so undefended and
impotent to resist contact with sharp and penetrating substances, that
they take refuge in the abandoned shells of other creatures. You and I
have to betake ourselves behind the defences of that strong love and
mighty Hand if ever we are to pass through life without fatal harm.
For consider that, even in regard to outward dangers, union with Jesus
Christ defends and delivers us. Suppose two men, two Manchester
merchants, made bankrupt by the same commercial crisis; or two
shipwrecked sailors lashed upon a raft; or two men sitting side by side
in a railway carriage and smashed by the same collision. One is a
Christian and the other is not. The same blow is altogether different
in aspect and actual effect upon the two men. They endure the same
thing externally, in body or in fortune. The outward man is similarly
affected, but the man is differently affected. The one is crushed, or
embittered, or driven to despair, or to drink, or to something or other
to soothe the bitterness; the other bows himself with 'It is the Lord!
Let Him do what seemeth Him good.'
So the two disasters are utterly different, though in form they may be
the same, and he that has entered into the fold by Jesus Christ is
safe, not _from_ outward disaster—that would be but a poor thing—but
_in_ it. For to the true heart that lives in fellowship with Jesus
Christ, Sorrow, though it be dark-robed, is bright-faced, soft-handed,
gentle-hearted, an angel of God. 'By Me if any man enter in, he shall
be safe.'
And further, in our union with Jesus Christ, by simple faith in Him and
loyal submission and obedience, we do receive an impenetrable defence
against the true evils, and the only things worth calling dangers. For
the only real evil is the peril that we shall lose our confidence and
be untrue to our best selves, and depart from the living God. Nothing
is evil except that which tempts, and succeeds in tempting, us away
from Him. And in regard to all such danger, to cleave to Christ, to
realise His presence, to think of Him, to wear His name as an amulet on
our hearts, to put the thought of Him between us and temptation as a
filter through which the poisonous air shall pass, and be deprived of
its virus, is the one secret of safety and victory.
Real gift of power from Jesus Christ, the influx of His strength into
our weakness, of some portion of the Spirit of life that was in Him
into our deadness, is promised, and the promise is abundantly fulfilled
to all men who trust Him when their hour of temptation comes. As the
dying martyr, when he looked up into heaven, saw Jesus Christ 'standing
at the right hand of God' ready to help, and, as it were, having
started from His eternal seat on the Throne in the eagerness of His
desire to succour His servant, so we may all see, if we will, that dear
Lord ready to succour us, and close by our sides to deliver us from the
evil in the evil, its power to tempt. If we could carry that vision
into our daily life, and walk in its light, when temptation rings us
round, how poor all the inducements to go away from Him would look!
There is a power in the remembrance of Jesus to slay every wicked
thought; and the things that tempt us most, that most directly appeal
to our worst sides, to our sense, our ambition, our pride, our
distrust, our self-will, all these lose their power upon us, and are
discovered in their emptiness and insignificance, when once this
thought flashes across the mind—Jesus Christ is my Defence, and Jesus
Christ is my Pattern and my Companion.
Oh, brother! do not trust yourself out amongst the pitfalls and snares
of life without Him. If you do, the real evil of all evils will seize
you for its own; but keep close to that dear Lord, and then 'there
shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy
dwelling.' The hidden temptation thou wilt pass by without being
harmed; the manifest temptation thou wilt trample under foot. 'Thou
shalt not be afraid for the pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor
for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.' Hidden known temptations
will be equally powerless; and in the fold into which all pass by faith
in Christ thou shalt be safe. And so, kept safe from each danger and in
each moment of temptation, the aggregate and sum of the several
deliverances will amount to the everlasting salvation which shall be
perfected in the heavens.
Only remember the condition, 'By Me if any man enter in.' That is not a
thing to be done once for all, but needs perpetual repetition. When we
clasp anything in our hands, however tight the initial grasp, unless
there is a continual effort of renewed tightening, the muscles become
lax, and we have to renew the tension, if we are to keep the grasp. So
in our Christian life it is only the continual repetition of the act
which our Lord here calls 'entering in by Him' that will bring to us
this continual exemption from, and immunity in, the dangers that beset
us.
Keep Christ between you and the storm. Keep on the lee side of the Rock
of Ages. Keep behind the breakwater, for there is a wild sea running
outside; and your little boat, undecked and with a feeble hand at the
helm, will soon be swamped. Keep within the fold, for wolves and lions
lie in every bush. Or, in plain English, live moment by moment in the
realising of Christ's presence, power, and grace. So, and only so,
shall you be safe.
II. Now, secondly, note, in Jesus Christ any man may find a field for
the unrestricted exercise of his activity.
That metaphor of 'going in and out' is partly explained to us by the
image of the flock, which passes into the fold for peaceful repose, and
out again, without danger, for exercise and food; and is partly
explained by the frequent use, in the Old Testament and in common
conversation, of the expression 'going out and in' as the designation
of the two-sided activity of human life. The one side is the
contemplative life of interior union with God by faith and love; the
other, the active life of practical obedience in the field of work
which God provides for us. These two are both capable of being raised
to their highest power, and of being discharged with the most
unrestricted and joyous activity, on condition of our keeping close to
Christ, and living by the faith of Him.
Note, then, 'He shall go in.' That comes first, though it interferes
with the propriety of the metaphor, since the previous words already
contemplate an initial 'entering in by Me, the Door.' That is to say,
that, given the union with Jesus Christ by faith, there must then, as
the basis of all activity, follow very frequent and deep inward acts of
contemplation, of faith, and aspiration, and desire. You must go into
the depths of God through Christ. You must go into the depths of your
own souls through Him. You must become accustomed to withdraw
yourselves from spreading yourselves out over the distractions of any
external activity, howsoever imperative, charitable, or necessary, and
live alone with Jesus, 'in the secret place of the Most High.' It is
through Him that we have access to the mysteries and innermost shrine
of the Temple. It is through Him that we draw near to the depths of
Deity. It is through Him that we learn the length and breadth and
height and depth of the largest and loftiest and noblest truths that
concern the spirit. It is through Him that we become familiar with the
inmost secrets of our own selves. And only they who habitually live
this hidden and sunken life of solitary and secret communion will ever
do much in the field of outward work. Christians of this generation are
far too much accustomed to live only in the front rooms of the house,
that look out upon the street; and they know very little—far too little
for their soul's health, and far too little for the freshness of their
work and its prosperity—of that inward life of silent contemplation and
expectant adoration, by which all strength is fed. Do not keep all your
goods in the shop windows, and have nothing on your shelves but
dummies, as is the case with far too many of us to-day. Remember that
the Lord said first, 'He shall go in,' and unless you do you will not
be 'saved.'
But then, further, if there have been, and continue to be, this
unrestricted exercise through Christ of that sweet and silent life of
solitary communion with Him, then there will follow upon that an
enlargement of opportunity, and power for outward service such as
nothing but emancipation by faith in Him can ever bring. Howsoever, by
external circumstances, you and I may be hampered and hindered, however
often we may feel that if something outside of us were different, the
development of our active powers would be far more satisfactory, and we
could do a great deal more in Christ's cause, the true hindrance lies
never without, but within; and it is only to be overcome by that
plunging into the depths of fellowship with Him. And then, if we carry
with us into the field of work, whether it be the commonplace, dusty,
tedious, and often repulsive duties of our monotonous business; or
whether it be the field of more distinctly unselfish and Christian
service—if we carry with us into all places where we go to labour, the
sweet thought of His presence, of His example, of His love, and of the
smile that may come on His face as the reward of faithful service, then
we shall find that external labour, drawing its pattern, its motive,
its law, and the power for its discharge, from communion with Him, is
no more task-work nor slavery; and even 'the rough places will be made
smooth, and the crooked things will be made straight,' and distasteful
work will be made at least tolerable, and hard burdens will be
lightened, and the things that are 'seen and temporal' will shimmer
into transparency, through which will shine out the things that are
'unseen and eternal.'
Some of us are constitutionally made to prefer the one of these forms
of Christian activity; some of us to prefer the other. The tendencies
of this generation are far too much to the latter, to the exclusion of
the former. It is hard to reconcile the conflicting claims, and I know
of no better way to hit the just medium than by trying to keep
ourselves always in touch with Jesus Christ, and then outward labour of
any sort, whether for the bread that perishes or for His kingdom and
righteousness, will never become so absorbing but that in it we may
have our hearts in heaven, and the silent hour of communion with Him
will never be so prolonged as to neglect outward duties. There was a
demoniac boy in the plain, and therefore it was impossible to build
tabernacles on the Mount of Transfiguration. But the disciples that had
not climbed the Mount were all impotent to cast out the demoniac boy.
We, if we keep near to Jesus Christ, will find that through Him we can
'go in and out,' and in both be pursuing the one uniform purpose of
serving and pleasing Him. So shall be fulfilled in our cases the
Psalmist's prayer, that 'I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the
days of ray life, to behold His beauty, and to inquire in His Temple.'
III. Lastly, in Jesus Christ any man may receive sustenance. 'They
shall find pasture.'
The imagery of the sheep and the fold is still, of course, present to
the Master's mind, and shapes the form in which this great promise is
set forth.
I need only remind you, in illustration of it, of two facts, one, that
in Jesus Christ Himself all the true needs of humanity are met and
satisfied. He is 'the Bread of God that came down from heaven to give
life to the world.' Do I want an outward object for my intellect? I
have it in Him. Does my heart feel with its tendrils, which have no
eyes at the ends of them, after something round which it may twine, and
not fear that the prop shall ever rot or be cut down or pulled up?
Jesus Christ is the home of love in which the dove may fold its wings
and be at rest. Do I want (and I do if I am not a fool) an absolute and
authoritative command to be laid upon my will; some one 'whose looks
enjoin, whose lightest words are spells'? I find absolute authority,
with no taint of tyranny, and no degradation to the subject, in that
Infinite Will of His. Does my conscience need some strong detergent to
be laid upon it which shall take out the stains that are most
indurated, inveterate, and ingrained? I find it only in the 'blood that
cleanseth from all sin.' Do my aspirations and desires seek for some
solid and substantial and unquestionable and imperishable good to
which, reaching out, they may be sure that they are not anchoring on
cloudland? Christ is our hope. For all this complicated and craving
commonwealth that I carry within my soul, there is but one
satisfaction, even Jesus Christ Himself. Nothing else nourishes the
whole man at once, but in Him are all the constituents that the human
system requires for its nutriment and its growth in every part. So in
and through Christ we find 'pasture.'
But beyond that, if we are knit to Him by simple and continual faith,
love, and obedience, then what is else barrenness becomes full of
nourishment, and the unsatisfying gifts of the world become rich and
precious. They are nought when they are put first, they are much when
they are put second.
I remember when I was in Australia seeing some wretched cattle trying
to find grass on a yellow pasture where there was nothing but here and
there a brown stalk that crumbled to dust in their mouths as they tried
to eat it. That is the world without Jesus Christ. And I saw the same
pasture six weeks after, when the rains had come, and the grass was
high, rich, juicy, satisfying. That is what the world may be to you, if
you will put it second, and seek first that your souls shall be fed on
Jesus Christ. Then, and only then, will what is else water be turned by
His touch and blessing into wine that shall fill the great jars to the
brim, and be pronounced by skilled palates to be the good wine. 'I will
feed them in a good pasture, and upon the high mountains of Israel
shall their fold be. There shall they lie in a good fold, and in a fat
pasture shall they feed upon the mountains of Israel.'