Of course, the symbol is but the putting into picturesque form of the
idea that lies in the name. 'Spirit' is 'breath.' Wind is but air in
motion. Breath is the synonym for life. 'Spirit' and 'life' are two
words for one thing. So then, in the symbol, the 'rushing mighty wind,'
we have set forth the highest work of the Spirit--the communication of
a new and supernatural life.
We are carried hack to that grand vision of the prophet who saw the
bones lying, very many and very dry, sapless and disintegrated, a heap
dead and ready to rot. The question comes to him: 'Son of man! Can
these bones live?' The only possible answer, if he consult experience,
is, 'O Lord God! Thou knowest.' Then follows the great invocation:
'Come from the four winds, O Breath! and breathe upon these slain that
they may live.' And the Breath comes and 'they stand up, an exceeding
great army.' 'It is the Spirit that quickeneth.' The Scripture treats
us all as dead, being separated from God, unless we are united to Him
by faith in Jesus Christ. According to the saying of the Evangelist,
'They which believe on Him receive' the Spirit, and thereby receive the
life which He gives, or, as our Lord Himself speaks, are 'born of the
Spirit.' The highest and most characteristic office of the Spirit of
God is to enkindle this new life, and hence His noblest name, among the
many by which He is called, is the Spirit of life.
Again, remember, 'that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.' If there
be life given it must be kindred with the life which is its source.
Reflect upon those profound words of our Lord: 'The wind bloweth where
it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell
whence it cometh nor whither it goeth. So is every one that is born of
the Spirit.' They describe first the operation of the life-giving
Spirit, but they describe also the characteristics of the resulting
life.
'The wind bloweth where it listeth.' That spiritual life, both in the
divine source and in the human recipient, is its own law. Of course the
wind has its laws, as every physical agent has; but these are so
complicated and undiscovered that it has always been the very symbol of
freedom, and poets have spoken of these 'chartered libertines,' the
winds, and 'free as the air' has become a proverb. So that Divine
Spirit is limited by no human conditions or laws, but dispenses His
gifts in superb disregard of conventionalities and externalisms. Just
as the lower gift of what we call 'genius' is above all limits of
culture or education or position, and falls on a wool-stapler in
Stratford-on-Avon, or on a ploughman in Ayrshire, so, in a similar
manner, the altogether different gift of the divine, life-giving Spirit
follows no lines that Churches or institutions draw. It falls upon an
Augustinian monk in a convent, and he shakes Europe. It falls upon a
tinker in Bedford gaol, and he writes _Pilgrim's Progress_. It falls
upon a cobbler in Kettering, and he founds modern Christian missions.
It blows 'where it listeth,' sovereignly indifferent to the
expectations and limitations and the externalisms, even of organised
Christianity, and touching this man and that man, not arbitrarily but
according to 'the good pleasure' that is a law to itself, because it is
perfect in wisdom and in goodness.
And as thus the life-giving Spirit imparts Himself according to higher
laws than we can grasp, so in like manner the life that is derived from
it is a life which is its own law. The Christian conscience, touched by
the Spirit of God, owes allegiance to no regulations or external
commandments laid down by man. The Christian conscience, enlightened by
the Spirit of God, at its peril will take its beliefs from any other
than from that Divine Spirit. All authority over conduct, all authority
over belief is burnt up and disappears in the presence of the grand
democracy of the true Christian principle: 'Ye are all the children of
God by faith in Jesus Christ'; and every one of you possesses the
Spirit which teaches, the Spirit which inspires, the Spirit which
enlightens, the Spirit which is the guide to all truth. So 'the wind
bloweth where it listeth,' and the voice of that Divine Quickener is,
'Myself shall to My darling be
Both law and impulse.'
Under the impulse derived from the Divine Spirit, the human spirit
'listeth' what is right, and is bound to follow the promptings of its
highest desires. Those men only are free as the air we breathe, who are
vitalised by the Spirit of the Lord, for 'where the Spirit of the Lord
is, there,' and there alone, 'is liberty.'
In this symbol there lies not only the thought of a life derived,
kindred with the life bestowed, and free like the life which is given,
but there lies also the idea of power. The wind which filled the house
was not only mighty but 'borne onward'--fitting type of the strong
impulse by which in olden times 'holy men spake as they were "borne
onward"' (the word is the same) 'by the Holy Ghost.' There are
diversities of operations, but it is the same breath of God, which
sometimes blows in the softest _pianissimo_ that scarcely rustles the
summer woods in the leafy month of June, and sometimes storms in wild
tempest that dashes the seas against the rocks. So this mighty
life-giving Agent moves in gentleness and yet in power, and sometimes
swells and rises almost to tempest, but is ever the impelling force of
all that is strong and true and fair in Christian hearts and lives.
The history of the world, since that day of Pentecost, has been a
commentary upon the words of my text. With viewless, impalpable energy,
the mighty breath of God swept across the ancient world and 'laid the
lofty city' of paganism 'low; even to the ground, and brought it even
to the dust.' A breath passed over the whole civilised world, like the
breath of the west wind upon the glaciers in the spring, melting the
thick-ribbed ice, and wooing forth the flowers, and the world was made
over again. In our own hearts and lives this is the one Power that will
make us strong and good. The question is all-important for each of us,
'Have I this life, and does it move me, as the ships are borne along by
the wind?' 'As many as are impelled by the Spirit of God,
they'--_they_--'are the sons of God.' Is that the breath that swells
all the sails of your lives, and drives you upon your course? If it be,
you are Christians; if it be not, you are not.
II. And now a word as to the second of these symbols--'Cloven tongues
as of fire'--the fire of the Spirit.
I need not do more than remind you how frequently that emblem is
employed both in the Old and in the New Testament. John the Baptist
contrasted the cold negative efficiency of his baptism, which at its
best, was but a baptism of repentance, with the quickening power of the
baptism of Him who was to follow him; when he said, 'I indeed baptise
you with water, but He that cometh after me is mightier than I. He
shall baptise you with the Holy Ghost and with fire.' The two words
mean but one thing, the fire being the emblem of the Spirit.
You will remember, too, how our Lord Himself employs the same metaphor
when He speaks about His coming to bring fire on the earth, and His
longing to see it kindled into a beneficent blaze. In this connection
the fire is a symbol of a quick, triumphant energy, which will
transform us into its own likeness. There are two sides to that emblem:
one destructive, one creative; one wrathful, one loving. There are the
fire of love, and the fire of anger. There is the fire of the sunshine
which is the condition of life, as well as the fire of the lightning
which burns and consumes. The emblem of fire is selected to express the
work of the Spirit of God, by reason of its leaping, triumphant,
transforming energy. See, for instance, how, when you kindle a pile of
dead green-wood, the tongues of fire spring from point to point until
they have conquered the whole mass, and turned it all into a ruddy
likeness of the parent flame. And so here, this fire of God, if it fall
upon you, will burn up all your coldness, and will make you glow with
enthusiasm, working your intellectual convictions in fire not in frost,
making your creed a living power in your lives, and kindling you into a
flame of earnest consecration.
The same idea is expressed by the common phrases of every language. We
speak of the fervour of love, the warmth of affection, the blaze of
enthusiasm, the fire of emotion, the coldness of indifference.
Christians are to be set on fire of God. If the Spirit dwell in us, He
will make us fiery like Himself, even as fire turns the wettest
green-wood into fire. We have more than enough of cold Christians who
are afraid of nothing so much as of being betrayed into warm emotion.
I believe, dear brethren, and I am bound to express the belief, that
one of the chief wants of the Christian Church of this generation, the
Christian Church of this city, the Christian Church of this chapel, is
more of the fire of God! We are all icebergs compared with what we
ought to be. Look at yourselves; never mind about your brethren. Let
each of us look at his own heart, and say whether there is any trace in
his Christianity of the power of that Spirit who is fire. Is our
religion flame or ice? Where among us are to be found lives blazing
with enthusiastic devotion and earnest love? Do not such words sound
like mockery when applied to us? Have we not to listen to that solemn
old warning that never loses its power, and, alas! seems never to lose
its appropriateness: 'Because thou art neither cold nor hot, I will
spue thee out of My mouth.' We ought to be like the burning beings
before God's throne, the seraphim, the spirits that blaze and serve. We
ought to be like God Himself, all aflame with love. Let us seek
penitently for that Spirit of fire who will dwell in us all if we will.
The metaphor of fire suggests also--purifying. 'The Spirit of burning'
will burn the filth out of us. That is the only way by which a man can
ever be made clean. You may wash and wash and wash with the cold water
of moral reformation, you will never get the dirt out with it. No
washing and no rubbing will ever cleanse sin. The way to purge a soul
is to do with it as they do with foul clay--thrust it into the fire and
that will burn all the blackness out of it. Get the love of God into
your hearts, and the fire of His Divine Spirit into your spirits to
melt you down, as it were, and then the scum and the dross will come to
the top, and you can skim them off. Two powers conquer my sin: the one
is the blood of Jesus Christ, which washes me from all the guilt of the
past; the other is the fiery influence of that Divine Spirit which
makes me pure and clean for all the time to come. Pray to be kindled
with the fire of God.
III. Then once more, take that other metaphor, 'I will pour out of My
Spirit.'
That implies an emblem which is very frequently used, both in the Old
and in the New Testament, viz., the Spirit as water. As our Lord said
to Nicodemus: 'Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he
cannot enter into the kingdom of God.' The 'water' stands in the same
relation to the 'Spirit' as the 'fire' does in the saying of John the
Baptist already referred to--that is to say, it is simply a symbol or
material emblem of the Spirit. I suppose nobody would say that there
were two baptisms spoken of by John, one of the Holy Ghost and one of
fire,--and I suppose that just in the same way, there are not two
agents of regeneration pointed at in our Lord's words, nor even two
conditions, but that the Spirit is the sole agent, and 'water' is but a
figure to express some aspect of His operations. So that there is no
reference to the water of baptism in the words, and to see such a
reference is to be led astray by sound, and out of a metaphor to
manufacture a miracle.
There are other passages where, in like manner, the Spirit is compared
to a flowing stream, such as, for instance, when our Lord said, 'He
that believeth on Me, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living
water,' and when John saw a 'river of water of life proceeding from the
throne.' The expressions, too, of 'pouring out' and 'shedding forth'
the Spirit, point in the same direction, and are drawn from more than
one passage of Old Testament prophecy. What, then, is the significance
of comparing that Divine Spirit with a river of water? First,
cleansing, of which I need not say any more, because I have dealt with
It in the previous part of my sermon. Then, further, refreshing, and
satisfying. Ah! dear brethren, there is only one thing that will slake
the immortal thirst in your souls. The world will never do it; love or
ambition gratified and wealth possessed, will never do it. You will be
as thirsty after you have drunk of these streams as ever you were
before. There is one spring 'of which if a man drink, he shall never
thirst' with unsatisfied, painful longings, but shall never cease to
thirst with the longing which is blessedness, because it is fruition.
Our thirst can be slaked by the deep draught of 'the river of the Water
of Life, which proceeds from the Throne of God and the Lamb.' The
Spirit of God, drunk in by my spirit, will still and satisfy my whole
nature, and with it I shall be glad. Drink of this. 'Ho! every one that
thirsteth, come ye to the waters!'
The Spirit is not only refreshing and satisfying, but also productive
and fertilising. In Eastern lands a rill of water is all that is needed
to make the wilderness rejoice. Turn that stream on to the barrenness
of your hearts, and fair flowers will grow that would never grow
without it. The one means of lofty and fruitful Christian living is a
deep, inward possession of the Spirit of God. The one way to fertilise
barren souls is to let that stream flood them all over, and then the
flush of green will soon come, and that which is else a desert will
'rejoice and blossom as the rose.'
So this water will cleanse, it will satisfy and refresh, it will be
productive and will fertilise, and 'everything shall live whithersoever
that river cometh.'