instruction? I well know that there are persons who are always
sparing themselves, who, while it is difficult to tell what they do,
are always complaining of the crushing weight of their labors, and
who are rather exhausted with the dread of what they shall do, than
with the experience of what they have actually done. It is not of
those that we speak. Those who do not labor have no need of rest. It
is to the honest, the painstaking, the laborious, that we address
the example in the text. We sometimes meet with the industrious,
self-denying servant of Christ, in feeble health, and with an
exhausted nature, bemoaning his condition, and condemning himself
because he can accomplish no more, while so much yet remains to be
done. To such a one we may safely present the example of the blessed
Savior. When His apostles had done to the utmost of their strength,
altho the harvest was great, and the laborers few, He did not urge
upon them additional labor, nor tell them that because there was so
much to be done they must never cease from doing. No; He tells them
to turn aside and rest for a while. It is as tho He had said, "Your
strength is exhausted; you cannot be qualified for subsequent duty
until you be refreshed. Economize, then, your power, that you may
accomplish the more." The Savior addresses the same language to us
now. When we are worn down in His service, as in any other, He would
have us rest, not for the sake of self-indulgence, but that we may
be the better prepared for future effort. We do nothing at variance
with His will, when we, with a good conscience, use the liberty
which he has thus conceded to us.
Jesus, with His disciples, crossed the water, and entered the
desert; that is, the sparsely inhabited country of Bethsaida.
Desert, or wilderness, in the New Testament, does not mean an arid
waste, but pasture land, forest, or any district to which one could
retire for seclusion. Here, in the cool and tranquil neighborhood
of the lake, he began to instruct His disciples, and, without
interruption, make known to them the mysteries of the kingdom. It
was one of those seasons that the Savior Himself rarely enjoyed.
Everything tended to repose: the rustling leaves, the rippling
waves, the song of the birds, heard more distinctly in this rural
solitude, all served to calm the spirit ruffled by the agitations of
the world, and prepared it to listen to the truths which unveil to
us eternity. Here our Lord could unbosom Himself, without reserve,
to His chosen few, and hold with them that communion which He was
rarely permitted to enjoy during His ministry on earth.
Soon, however, the whole scene is changed. The multitude, whom he
had so recently left, having observed the direction in which He had
gone, have discovered the place of His retreat. An immense crowd
approaches, and the little company is surrounded by a dense mass of
human beings pressing upon them on every side. These are, however,
only the pioneers. At last, five thousand men, besides women and
children, are beheld thronging around them.
Some of these suitors present most importunate claims. They are in
search of cure for diseases which have baffled the skill of the
medical profession, and, as a last resort, they have come to the
Messiah for aid. Here was a parent bringing a consumptive child.
There were children bearing on a couch a paralytic parent. Here
was a sister leading a brother blind from his birth, while her
supplications were drowned by the shout of a frenzied lunatic who
was standing by her side. Every one, believing his own claim to be
the most urgent, prest forward with selfish importunity. Each one,
caring for no other than himself, was striving to attain the front
rank, while those behind, disappointed, and fearing to lose this
important opportunity, were eager to occupy the places of those more
fortunate than themselves. The necessary tumult and disorder of such
a scene you can better imagine than I can describe.
This was, doubtless, by no means a welcome interruption. The
apostles needed the time for rest; for they were worn out in
the public service. They wanted it for instruction; for such
opportunities of intercourse with Christ were rare. But what did
they do? Did our Lord inform the multitude that this day was set
apart for their own refreshment and improvement, and that they could
not be interrupted? As He beheld them approaching, did He quietly
take to His boat, and leave them to go home disappointed? Did He
plead His own convenience, or His need of repose, as any reason for
not attending to the pressing necessities of His fellow men?
No, my brethren, very far from it. That providence of God had
brought these multitudes before Him, and that same providence
forbade Him to send them away unblest. He at once broke up the
conference with His disciples and addrest Himself to the work
before Him. His instructions were of inestimable importance; but
I doubt if even they were as important as the example of deep
humility, exhaustless kindness, and affecting compassion which He
here exhibited. When the Master places work before us which can be
done at no other time, our convenience must yield to other men's
necessities. "The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but
to minister." You can imagine to yourself the Savior rising from
His seat, in the midst of His disciples, and presenting Himself
to the approaching multitudes. His calm dignity awes into silence
this tumultuous gathering of the people. Those who came out to
witness the tricks of an empiric, or listen to the ravings of a
fanatic, find themselves, unexpectedly, in a presence that repels
every emotion but that of profound veneration. The light-hearted
and frivolous are awestruck by the unearthly majesty that seems
to clothe the Messiah as with a garment. And yet it was a majesty
that shone forth conspicuous, most of all, by the manifestation of
unparalleled goodness. Every eye that met the eye of the Savior
quailed before Him; for it looked into a soul that had never
sinned; and the spirit of the sinner felt, for the first time, the
full power of immaculate virtue.
Thus the Savior passed among the crowd, and "healed all that had
need of healing." The lame walked, the lepers were cleansed,
the blind received their sight, the paralytic were restored to
soundness, and the bloom of health revisited the cheeks of those
that but just now were sick unto death.
The work to be done for the bodies of men was accomplished, and
there yet remained some hours of the summer's day unconsumed. The
power and goodness displayed in this miraculous healing would
naturally predispose the people to listen to the instructions of
the Savior. This was too valuable an opportunity to be lost. Our
Lord therefore proceeded to speak to them of the things concerning
the kingdom of God. We can seem to perceive the Savior seeking
an eminence from whence He could the more conveniently address
this vast assembly. You hear Him unfold the laws of God's moral
government. He unmasks the hypocrisy of the Pharisees; He rebukes
the infidelity of the Sadducees; He exposes the folly of the
frivolous, as well as of the selfish worldling; He speaks peaceably
to the humble penitent; He encourages the meek, and comforts those
that be cast down. The intellect and the conscience of this vast
assembly are swayed at His will. The soul of man bows down in
reverence in the presence of its Creator. "He stilleth the noise of
the seas, the noise of their waves, and the tumult of the people."
As He closes His address, every eye is moistened with compunction
for sin. Every soul cherishes the hope of amendment. Every one is
conscious that a new moral light has dawned upon his soul, and that
a new moral universe has been unveiled to his spiritual vision. As
the closing words of the Savior fell upon their ears, the whole
multitude stood for a while unmoved, as tho transfixt to the earth
by some mighty spell; until, at last, the murmur is heard from
thousands of voices, "Never man spake like this man."
But the shades of evening are gathering around them. The multitude
have nothing to eat. To send them away fasting would be inhuman,
for divers of them came from far, and many were women and children,
who could not perform their journey homeward without previous
refreshment. To purchase food in the surrounding towns and villages
would be difficult; but even were this possible, whence could
the necessary funds be provided? A famishing multitude was thus
unexpectedly cast upon the bounty of our Lord. He had not tempted
God by leading them into the wilderness. They came to Him of
themselves, to hear His words and to be healed of their infirmities.
He could not "send them away fasting, lest they should faint by the
way." In this dilemma, what was to be done? He puts this question to
His disciples, and they can suggest no means of relief. The little
stock of provisions which they had brought with them was barely
sufficient for themselves. They can perceive no means whatever by
which the multitude can be fed, and they at once confess it.
The Savior, however, commands the twelve to give them to eat. They
produce their slender store of provisions, amounting to five loaves
and two small fishes. He commands the multitude to sit down by
companies on the grass. As soon as silence is obtained, He lifts
up His eyes to heaven, and supplicates the blessing of God upon
their scanty meal. He begins to break the loaves and fishes, and
distribute them to His disciples, and His disciples distribute them
to the multitude. He continues to break and distribute. Basket after
basket is filled and emptied, yet the supply is undiminished. Food
is carried in abundance to the famishing thousands. Company after
company is supplied with food, but the five loaves and two fishes
remain unexhausted. At last, the baskets are returned full, and
it is announced that the wants of the multitude are supplied. The
miracle then ceases, and the multiplication of food is at an end.
But even here the provident care of the Savior is manifested. Altho
this food has been so easily provided, it is not right that it be
lightly suffered to perish. Christ wrought no miracles for the
sake of teaching men wastefulness. That food, by what means soever
provided, was a creature of God, and it were sin to allow it to
decay without accomplishing the purposes for which it was created.
"Gather up the fragments," said the Master of the feast, "that
nothing be lost." "And they gathered up the fragments that remained,
twelve baskets full."
Dissimilar as are our circumstances to those of our Lord, we may
learn from this latter incident a lesson of instruction.
In the first place, as I have remarked, the Savior did not lead
the multitude into the wilderness without making provision for
their sustenance. This would have been presumption. They followed
Him without His command, and He found Himself with them in this
necessity. He had provided for His own wants, but they had not
provided for theirs. The providence of God had, however, placed
Him in His present circumstances, and He might therefore properly
look to providence for deliverance. This event, then, furnishes
the rule by which we are to be governed. When we plunge ourselves
into difficulty, by a neglect of the means or by a misuse of the
faculties which God has bestowed upon us, it is to be expected
that He will leave us to our own devices. But when, in the honest
discharge of our duties, we find ourselves in circumstances beyond
the reach of human aid, we may then confidently look up to God for
deliverance. He will always take care of us while we are in the
spot where He has placed us. When He appoints for us trials, He
also appoints for us the means of escape. The path of duty, tho it
may seem arduous, is ever the path of safety. We can more easily
maintain ourselves in the most difficult position, God being our
helper, than in apparent security relying on our own strength.
The Savior, in full reliance upon God, with only five loaves and
two fishes, commenced the distribution of food amongst the vast
multitude. Tho His whole store was barely sufficient to supply
the wants of His immediate family, He began to share it with the
thousands who surrounded Him. Small as was His provision at the
commencement, it remained unconsumed until the deed of mercy was
done, and the wants of the famished host supplied. Nor were the
disciples losers by this act of charity. After the multitude had
eaten and were satisfied, twelve baskets full of fragments remained,
a reward for their deed of benevolence.
From this portion of the narrative, we may, I think, learn that
if we act in faith, and in the spirit of Christian love, we may
frequently be justified in commencing the most important good
work, even when in possession of apparently inadequate means. If
the work be of God, He will furnish us with helpers as fast as they
are needed. In all ages, God has rewarded abundantly simple trust
in Him, and has bestowed upon it in the highest honor. We must,
however, remember the conditions upon which alone we may expect His
aid, lest we be led into fanaticism. The service which we undertake
must be such as God has commanded, and His providence must either
designate us for the work, or, at least, open the door by which we
shall enter upon it. It must be God's work, and not our own; for the
good of others, and not for the gratification of our own passions;
and, in the doing of it, we must, first of all, make sacrifice of
ourselves, and not of others. Under such circumstances, there is
hardly a good design which we may not undertake with cheerful hopes
of success, for God has promised us His assistance. "If God be for
us, who can be against us?" The calculations of the men of this
world are of small account in such a matter. It would have provoked
the smile of an infidel to behold the Savior commencing the work
of feeding five thousand men with a handful of provisions. But the
supply increased as fast as it was needed, and it ceased not until
all that He had prayed for was accomplished.
Perhaps, also, we may learn from this incident another lesson. If
I mistake not, it suggests to us that in works of benevolence we
are accustomed to rely too much on human, and too little on divine,
aid. When we attempt to do good, we commence by forming large
associations, and suppose that our success depends upon the number
of men whom we can unite in the promotion of our undertaking. Every
one is apt thus to forget his own personal duty, and rely upon the
labor of others, and it is well if he does not put his organization
in the place of God Himself. Would it not be better if we made
benevolence much more a matter between God and our own souls, each
one doing with his own hands, in firm reliance on divine aid, the
work which Providence has placed directly before him? Our Lord did
not send to the villages round to organize a general effort to
relieve the famishing. In reliance upon God, He set about to work
Himself, with just such means as God had afforded Him. All the
miracles of benevolence have, if I mistake not, been wrought in the
same manner. The little band of disciples in Jerusalem accomplished
more for the conversion of the world than all the Christians of the
present day united. And why? Because every individual Christian felt
that the conversion of the world was a work for which he himself,
and not an abstraction that he called the Church, was responsible.
Instead of relying on man for aid, every one looked up directly to
God, and went forth to the work. God was thus exalted, the power
was confest to be His own, and, in a few years, the standard of the
Cross was carried to the remotest extremities of the then known
world.
Such has, I think, been the case ever since. Every great moral
reformation has proceeded upon principles analogous of these. It
was Luther, standing up alone in simple reliance upon God, that
smote the Papal hierarchy; and the effects of that blow are now
agitating the nations of Europe. Roger Williams, amid persecution
and banishment, held forth that doctrine of soul-liberty which,
in its onward march, is disenthralling a world. Howard, alone,
undertook the work of showing mercy to the prisoner, and his example
is now enlisting the choicest minds in Christendom in this labor of
benevolence. Clarkson, unaided, a young man, and without influences,
consecrated himself to the work of abolishing the slave trade; and,
before he rested from his labor, his country had repented of and
forsaken this atrocious sin. Raikes saw the children of Gloucester
profaning the Sabbath day; he set on foot a Sabbath school on his
own account, and now millions of children are reaping the benefit of
his labors, and his example has turned the attention of the whole
world to the religious instruction of the young. With such facts
before us, we surely should be encouraged to attempt individually
the accomplishment of some good design, relying in humility and
faith upon Him who is able to grant prosperity to the feeblest
effort put forth in earnest reliance on His almightiness.
Such were the occupations that filled up a day in the life of Jesus
of Nazareth. There was not an act done for Himself; all was done
for others. Every hour was employed in the labor which that hour
set before Him. Private kindness, the relief of distress, public
teaching, and ministration to the wants of the famishing, filled
up the entire day. Let His disciples learn to follow His example.
Let us, like Him, forget ourselves, our own wants, and our own
weariness, that we may, as he did, scatter blessings on every side,
as we move onward in the pathway of our daily life. If such were the
occupations of the Son of God, can we do more wisely than to imitate
His example? Every disciple would then be as a city set upon a hill,
and men, seeing our good works, would glorify our Father who is in
heaven. "Then would our righteousness go forth as brightness, and
our salvation as a lamp that burneth."
VINET
THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
ALEXANDER VINET, the eminent Swiss divine and author, was born at
Ouchy, Canton, in 1797. He was professor of theology at Lausanne
(1837-45), where he gained reputation as a preacher, a philosopher,
and a writer. He was tolerant tho critical, and many of his
utterances are marked by rare brilliancy. His supreme and intense
faith led him to say: "The gospel is believed when it has ceased
to be to us an external and has become an internal truth, when it
has become a fact in our consciousness. Christianity is conscience
raised to its highest exercise." He died in 1847.
VINET
1797-1847
THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY
_Things which have not entered into the heart of man._--1 Cor. ii.,
9.
"I do not comprehend, therefore I do not believe." "The gospel is
full of mysteries, therefore I do not receive the gospel:"--such is
one of the favorite arguments of infidelity. To see how much is made
of this, and what confidence it inspires, we might believe it solid,
or, at least, specious; but it is neither the one nor the other;
it will not bear the slightest attention, the most superficial
examination of reason; and if it still enjoys some favor in the
world, this is but a proof of the lightness of our judgments upon
things worthy of our most serious attention.
Upon what, in fact, does this argument rest? Upon the claim of
comprehending every thing in the religion which God has offered or
could offer us--a claim equally unjust, unreasonable, useless. This
we proceed to develop.
1. In the first place, it is an unjust claim. It is to demand of God
what He does not owe us. To prove this, let us suppose that God has
given a religion to man, and let us further suppose that religion to
be the gospel: for this absolutely changes nothing to the argument.
We may believe that God was free, at least, with reference to us,
to give us or not to give us a religion; but it must be admitted
that in granting it He contracts engagements to us, and that the
first favor lays Him under a necessity of conferring other favors.
For this is merely to say that God must be consistent, and that He
finishes what He has begun. Since it is by a written revelation
He manifests His designs respecting us, it is necessary He should
fortify that revelation by all the authority which would at least
determine us to receive it; it is necessary He should give us the
means of judging whether the men who speak to us in His name are
really sent by Him; in a word, it is necessary we should be assured
that the Bible is truly the Word of God.
It would not indeed be necessary that the conviction of each of
us should be gained by the same kind of evidence. Some shall be
led to Christianity by the historical or external arguments; they
shall prove to themselves the truth of the Bible as the truth of
all history is proved; they shall satisfy themselves that the
books of which it is composed are certainly those of the times and
of the authors to which they are ascribed. This settled, they
shall compare the prophecies contained in these ancient documents
with the events that have happened in subsequent ages; they shall
assure themselves of the reality of the miraculous facts related in
these books, and shall thence infer the necessary intervention of
divine power, which alone disposes the forces of nature, and can
alone interrupt or modify their action. Others, less fitted for
such investigations, shall be struck with the internal evidence
of the Holy Scriptures. Finding there the state of their souls
perfectly described, their wants fully exprest, and the true
remedies for their maladies completely indicated; struck with a
character of truth and candor which nothing can imitate; in fine,
feeling themselves in their inner nature moved, changed, renovated,
by the mysterious influence of these holy writings, they shall
acquire, by such means, a conviction of which they can not always
give an account to others, but which is not the less legitimate,
irresistible, and immovable. Such is the double road by which an
entrance is gained into the asylum of faith. But it was due from the
wisdom of God, from His justice, and, we venture to say it, from
the honor of His government, that He should open to man this double
road; for, if He desired man to be saved by knowledge, on the same
principle He engaged Himself to furnish him the means of knowledge.
Behold, whence come the obligations of the Deity with reference
to us, which obligations He has fulfilled. Enter on this double
method of proof. Interrogate history, time and places, respecting
the authenticity of the Scriptures; grasp all the difficulties,
sound all the objections; do not permit yourselves to be too easily
convinced; be the more severe upon that book, as it professes to
contain the sovereign rule of your life, and the disposal of your
destiny; you are permitted to do this, nay, you are encouraged
to do it, provided you proceed to the investigation with the
requisite capacities and with pure intentions. Or, if you prefer
another method, examine, with an honest heart, the contents of the
Scriptures; inquire, while you run over the words of Jesus, if ever
man spake like this Man; inquire if the wants of your soul, long
deceived, and the anxieties of your spirit, long cherished in vain,
do not, in the teaching and work of Christ, find that satisfaction
and repose which no wisdom was ever able to procure you; breathe,
if I may thus express myself, that perfume of truth, of candor and
purity, which exhales from every page of the gospel; see, if, in all
these respects, it does not bear the undeniable seal of inspiration
and divinity. Finally, test it, and if the gospel produces upon you
a contrary effect, return to the books and the wisdom of men, and
ask of them what Christ has not been able to give you.
But if, neglecting these two ways, made accessible to you,
and trodden by the feet of ages, you desire, before all, that
the Christian religion should, in every point, render itself
comprehensible to your mind, and complacently strip itself of all
mysteries; if you wish to penetrate beyond the veil, to find there,
not the aliment which gives life to the soul, but that which would
gratify your restless curiosity, I maintain that you raise against
God a claim the most indiscreet, the most rash and unjust; for He
has never engaged, either tacitly or expressly, to discover to you
the secret which your eye craves; and such audacious importunity is
fit to excite His indignation. He has given you what He owed you,
more indeed than He owed you; the rest is with Himself.