'And the Lord added to the church daily such as should be saved.'--ACTS
ii. 47.
'And the Lord added to them day by day those that were being
saved.'--(R. V.)
You observe that the principal alterations of these words in the
Revised Version are two: the one the omission of 'the church,' the
other the substitution of 'were being saved' for 'such as should be
saved.' The former of these changes has an interest as suggesting that
at the early period referred to the name of 'the church' had not yet
been definitely attached to the infant community, and that the word
afterwards crept into the text at a time when ecclesiasticism had
become a great deal stronger than it was at the date of the writing of
the Acts of the Apostles. The second of the changes is of more
importance. The Authorised Version's rendering suggests that salvation
is a future thing, which in one aspect is partially true. The Revised
Version, which is also by far the more literally accurate, suggests the
other idea, that salvation is a process going on all through the course
of a Christian man's life. And that carries very large and important
lessons.
I. I ask you to notice here, first, the profound conception which the
writer had of the present action of the ascended Christ. 'The Lord
added to them day by day those that were being saved.'
Then Christ (for it is He that is here spoken of as the Lord), the
living, ascended Christ, was present in, and working with, that little
community of believing souls. You will find that the thought of a
present Saviour, who is the life-blood of the Church on earth, and the
spring of action for all good that is done in it and by it, runs
through the whole of this Book of the Acts of the Apostles. The keynote
is struck in its first verses: 'The former treatise have I made, O
Theophilus, of all that Jesus began to do and to teach, until the day
in which He was taken up.' That is the description of Luke's Gospel,
and it implies that the Acts of the Apostles is the _second_ treatise,
which tells all that Jesus continued to do and teach _after_ that He
was taken up. So the Lord, the ascended Christ, is the true theme and
hero of this book. It is He, for instance, who sends down the Spirit on
the Day of Pentecost. It is He whom the dying martyr sees 'standing at
the right hand of God,' ready to help. It is He who appears to the
persecutor on the road to Damascus. It is He who sends Paul and his
company to preach in Europe. It is He who opens hearts for the
reception of their message. It is He who stands by the Apostle in a
vision, and bids him 'be of good cheer,' and go forth upon his work.
Thus, at every crisis in the history of the Church, it is the
Lord--that is to say, Christ Himself--who is revealed as working in
them and for them, the ascended but yet ever-present Guide, Counsellor,
Inspirer, Protector, and Rewarder of them that put their trust in Him.
So here it is He that 'adds to the Church daily them that were being
saved.'
I believe, dear brethren, that modern Christianity has far too much
lost the vivid impression of this present Christ as actually dwelling
and working among us. What is good in us and what is bad in us conspire
to make us think more of the past work of an ascended Christ than of
the present work of an indwelling Christ. We cannot think too much of
that Cross by which He has laid the foundation for the salvation and
reconciliation of all the world; but we may easily think too
exclusively of it, and so fix our thoughts upon that work which He
completed when on Calvary He said, 'It is finished!' as to forget the
continual work which will never be finished until His Church is
perfected, and the world is redeemed. If we are a Church of Christ at
all, we have Christ in very deed among us, and working through us and
on us. And unless we have, in no mystical and unreal and metaphorical
sense, but in the simplest and yet grandest prose reality, that living
Saviour here in our hearts and in our fellowship, better that these
walls were levelled with the ground, and this congregation scattered to
the four winds of heaven. The present Christ is the life of His Church.
Notice, and that but for a moment, for I shall have to deal with it
more especially at another part of this discourse,--the specific action
which is here ascribed to Him. _He_ adds to the Church, not _we_, not
our preaching, not our eloquence, our fervour, our efforts. These may
be the weapons in His hands, but the hand that wields the weapon gives
it all its power to wound and to heal, and it is Christ Himself who, by
His present energy, is here represented as being the Agent of all the
good that is done by any Christian community, and the Builder-up of His
Churches, in numbers and in power.
It is His will for, His ideal of, a Christian Church, that continuously
it should be gathering into its fellowship those that are being saved.
That is His meaning in the establishment of His Church upon earth, and
that is His will concerning it and concerning us, and the question
should press on every society of Christians: Does our reality
correspond to Christ's ideal? Are we, as a portion of His great
heritage, being continually replenished by souls that come to tell what
God has done for them? Is there an unbroken flow of such into what we
call our communion? I speak to you members of this church, and I ask
you to ponder the question,--Is it so? and the other question, If it is
not so, wherefore? 'The Lord added daily,'--why does not the Lord add
daily to us?
II. Let us go to the second part of this text, and see if we can find
an answer. Notice how emphatically there is brought out here the
attractive power of an earnest and pure Church.
My text is the end of a sentence. What is the beginning of the
sentence? Listen,--'All that believed were together, and had all things
common; and sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all
men, as every man had need. And they, continuing daily with one accord
in the Temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did eat their
meat with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having
favour with all the people. And the Lord added.' Yes; of course.
Suppose you were like these people. Suppose this church and
congregation bore stamped upon it, plain and deep as the broad arrow of
the king, these characteristics--manifest fraternal unity, plain
unselfish unworldliness, habitual unbroken devotion, gladness which had
in it the solemnity of Heaven, and a transparent simplicity of life and
heart, which knew nothing of by-ends and shabby, personal motives or
distracting duplicity of purpose--do you not think that the Lord would
add to you daily such as should be saved? Or, to put it into other
words, wherever there is a little knot of men obviously held together
by a living Christ, and obviously manifesting in their lives and
characters the likeness of that Christ transforming and glorifying
them, there will be drawn to them--by natural gravitation, I was going
to say, but we may more correctly say, by the gravitation which is
natural in the supernatural realm--souls that have been touched by the
grace of the Lord, and souls to whom that grace has been brought the
nearer by looking upon _them_. Wherever there is inward vigour of life
there will be outward growth; and the Church which is pure, earnest,
living will be a Church which spreads and increases.
Historically, it has always been the case that in God's Church seasons
of expansion have followed upon seasons of deepened spiritual life on
the part of His people. And the only kind of growth which is wholesome,
and to be desired in a Christian community, is growth as a consequence
of the revived religiousness of the individuals who make up the
community.
And just in like manner as such a community will draw to it men who are
like-minded, so it will repel from it all the formalist people. There
are congregations that have the stamp of worldliness so deep upon them
that any persons who want to be burdened with as little religion as may
be respectable will find themselves at home there. And I come to you
Christian people here, for whose Christian character I am in some sense
and to some degree responsible, with this appeal: Do you see to it
that, so far as your influence extends, this community of ours be such
as that half-dead Christians will never think of coming near us, and
those whose religion is tepid will be repelled from us, but that they
who love the Lord Jesus Christ with earnest devotion and lofty
consecration, and seek to live unworldly and saint-like lives, shall
recognise in us men like-minded, and from whom they may draw help. I
beseech you--if you will not misunderstand the expression--make your
communion such that it will repel as well as attract; and that people
will find nothing here to draw them to an easy religion of words and
formalism, beneath which all vermin of worldliness and selfishness may
lurk, but will recognise in us a church of men and women who are bent
upon holiness, and longing for more and more conformity to the divine
Master.
Now, if all this be true, it is possible for worldly and stagnant
communities calling themselves 'Churches' to thwart Christ's purpose,
and to make it both impossible and undesirable that He should add to
them souls for whom He has died. It is a solemn thing to feel that we
may clog Christ's chariot-wheels, that there may be so little spiritual
life in us, as a congregation, that, if I may so say, He dare not
intrust us with the responsibility of guarding and keeping the young
converts whom He loves and tends. We may not be fit to be trusted with
them, and that may be why we do not get them. It may not be good for
them that they should be dropped into the refrigerating atmosphere of
such a church, and that may be why they do not come.
Depend upon it, brethren, that, far more than my preaching, your lives
will determine the expansion of this church of ours. And if my
preaching is pulling one way and your lives the other, and I have half
an hour a week for talk and you have seven days for contradictory life,
which of the two do you think is likely to win in the tug? I beseech
you, take the words that I am now trying to speak, to yourselves. Do
not pass them to the man in the next pew and think how well they fit
him, but accept them as needed by you. And remember, that just as a bit
of sealing-wax, if you rub it on your sleeve and so warm it, develops
an attractive power, the Church which is warmed will draw many to
itself. If the earlier words of this context apply to any Christian
community, then certainly its blessed promise too will apply to it, and
to such a church the Lord will 'add day by day them that are being
saved.'
III. And now, lastly, observe the definition given here of the class of
persons gathered into the community.
I have already observed, in the earlier portion of this discourse, that
here we have salvation represented as a process, a progressive thing
which runs on all through life. In the New Testament there are various
points of view from which that great idea of salvation is represented.
It is sometimes spoken of as past, in so far as in the definite act of
conversion and the first exercise of faith in Jesus Christ the whole
subsequent evolution and development are involved, and the process of
salvation has its beginning then, when a man turns to God. It is
sometimes spoken of as present, in so far as the joy of deliverance
from evil and possession of good, which is God, is realised day by day.
It is sometimes spoken of as future, in so far as all the imperfect
possession and pre-libations of salvation which we taste here on earth
prophesy and point onwards to their own perfecting in the climax of
heaven. But all these three points of view, past, present, and future,
may be merged into this one of my text, which speaks of every saint on
earth, from the infantile to the most mature, as standing in the same
row, though at different points; walking on the same road, though
advanced different distances; all participant of the same process of
'being saved.'
Through all life the deliverance goes on, the deliverance from sin, the
deliverance from wrath. The Christian salvation, then, according to the
teaching of this emphatic phrase, is a process begun at conversion,
carried on progressively through the life, and reaching its climax in
another state. Day by day, through the spring and the early summer, the
sun shines longer in the sky, and rises higher in the heavens; and the
path of the Christian is as the shining light. Last year's greenwood is
this year's hardwood; and the Christian, in like manner, has to 'grow
in the grace and knowledge of the Lord and Saviour.' So these
progressively, and, therefore, as yet imperfectly, saved people, were
gathered into the Church.
Now I have but two things to say about that. If that be the description
of the kind of folk that come into a Christian Church, the duties of
that Church are very plainly marked. And the first great one is to see
to it that the community help the growth of its members. There are
Christian Churches--I do not say whether ours is one of them or
not--into which, if a young plant is brought, it is pretty sure to be
killed. The temperature is so low that the tender shoots are nipped as
with frost, and die. I have seen people, coming all full of fervour and
of faith, into Christian congregations, and finding that the average
round them was so much lower than their own, that they have cooled down
after a time to the fashionable temperature, and grown indifferent like
their brethren. Let us, dear friends, remember that a Christian Church
is a nursery of imperfect Christians, and, for ourselves and for one
another, try to make our communion such as shall help shy and tender
graces to unfold themselves, and woo out, by the encouragement of
example, the lowest and the least perfect to lofty holiness and
consecration like the Master's.
And if I am speaking to any in this congregation who hold aloof from
Christian fellowship for more or less sufficient reasons, let me press
upon them, in one word, that if they are conscious of a possession,
however imperfect, of that incipient salvation, their place is thereby
determined, and they are doing wrong if they do not connect themselves
with some Christian Communion, and stand forth as members of Christ's
Church.
And now one last word. I have tried to show you that salvation, in the
New Testament, is regarded as a process. The opposite thing is a
process too. There is a very awful contrast in one of Paul's Epistles.
'The preaching of the Cross is to them _who are in the act of
perishing_ foolishness; unto us who are _being saved_, it is the power
of God.' These two processes start, as it were, from the same point,
one by slow degrees and almost imperceptible motion, rising higher and
higher, the other, by slow degrees and almost unconscious descent,
sliding steadily and fatally downward ever further and further. And my
point now is that in each of us one or other of these processes is
going on. Either you are slowly rising or you are slipping down. Either
a larger measure of the life of Christ, which is salvation, is passing
into your hearts, or bit by bit you are dying like some man with
creeping paralysis that begins at the extremities, and with fell,
silent, inexorable footstep, advances further and further towards the
citadel of the heart, where it lays its icy hand at last, and the man
is dead. You are either 'being saved' or you are 'perishing.' No man
becomes a devil all at once, and no man becomes an angel all at once.
Trust yourself to Christ, and He will lift you to Himself; turn your
back upon Him, as some of you are doing, and you will settle down,
down, down in the muck and the mire of your own sensuality and
selfishness, until at last the foul ooze spreads over your head, and
you are lost in the bog for ever.
'THEN SHALL THE LAME MAN LEAP AS AN HART'
'Now Peter and John went up together into the temple at the hour of
prayer, being the ninth hour. 2. And a certain man lame from his
mother's womb was carried, whom they laid daily at the gate of the
temple which is called Beautiful, to ask alms of them that entered into
the temple; 3. Who, seeing Peter and John about to go into the temple,
asked an alms. 4. And Peter, fastening his eyes upon him, with John,
said, Look on us. 5. And he gave heed unto them, expecting to receive
something of them. 6. Then Peter said, Silver and gold have I none; but
such as I have give I thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth
rise up and walk. 7. And he took him by the right hand, and lifted him
up: and immediately his feet and ankle bones received strength. 8. And
he leaping up, stood, and walked, and entered with them into the
temple, walking, and leaping, and praising God. 9. And all the people
saw him walking and praising God: 10. And they knew that it was he
which sat for alms at the Beautiful gate of the temple: and they were
filled with wonder and amazement at that which had happened unto him.
11. And as the lame man which was healed held Peter and John, all the
people ran together unto them in the porch that is called Solomon's,
greatly wondering. 12. And when Peter saw it, he answered unto the
people, Ye men of Israel, why marvel ye at this? or why look ye so
earnestly on us, as though by our own power or holiness we had made
this man to walk? 13. The God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob,
the God of our fathers, hath glorified His Son Jesus; whom ye delivered
up, and denied Him in the presence of Pilate, when he was determined to
let Him go. 14. But ye denied the Holy One and the Just, and desired a
murderer to be granted unto you; 15. And killed the Prince of Life,
whom God hath raised from the dead, whereof we are witnesses. 16. And
His name through faith in His name hath made this man strong, whom ye
see and know; yea, the faith which is by Him hath given him this
perfect soundness in the presence of you all.'--ACTS iii. 1-16.
'Many wonders and signs were done by the Apostles' (Acts ii. 43), but
this one is recorded in detail, both because it was conspicuous as
wrought in the Temple, and because it led to weighty consequences. The
narrative is so vivid and full of minute particulars that it suggests
an eye-witness. Was Peter Luke's informant? The style of the story is
so like that of Mark's Gospel that we might reasonably presume so.
The scene and the persons are first set before us. It was natural that
a close alliance should be cemented between Peter and John, both
because they were the principal members of the quartet which stood
first among the Apostles, and because they were so unlike each other,
and therefore completed each other. Peter's practical force and eye for
externals, and John's more contemplative nature and eye for the unseen,
needed one another. So we find them together in the judgment hall, at
the sepulchre, and here.
They 'went up to the Temple,' or, to translate more exactly and more
picturesquely, 'were going up,' when the incident to be recorded stayed
them. They had passed through the court, and came to a gate leading
into the inner court, which was called 'Beautiful.' from its artistic
excellence, when they were arrested by the sight of a lame beggar, who
had been carried there every day for many years to appeal, by the
display of his helplessness, to the entering worshippers. Precisely
similar sights may be seen to-day at the doors of many a famous
European church and many a mosque. He mechanically wailed out his
formula, apparently scarcely looking at the two strangers, nor
expecting a response. Long habit and many rebuffs had not made him
hopeful, but it was his business to ask, and so he asked.
Some quick touch of pity shot through the two friends' hearts, which
did not need to be spoken in order that each might feel it to be shared
by the other. So they paused, and, as was in keeping with their
characters, Peter took speech in hand, while John stood by assenting.
Purposed devotion is well delayed when postponed in order to lighten
misery.
There must have been something magnetic in Peter's voice and steady
gaze as he said, 'Look on us!' It was a strange preface, if only some
small coin was to follow. It kindled some flicker of hope of he knew
not what in the beggar. He expected to receive 'something' from them,
and, no doubt, was asking himself what. Expectation and receptivity
were being stirred in him, though he could not divine what was coming.
We have no right to assume that his state of mind was operative in
fitting him to be cured, nor to call his attitude 'faith,' but still he
was lifted from his usual dreary hopelessness, and some strange
anticipation was creeping into his heart.
Then comes the grand word of power. Again Peter is spokesman, but John
takes part, though silently. With a fixed gaze, which told of
concentrated purpose, and went to the lame man's heart, Peter
triumphantly avows what most men are ashamed of, and try to hide:
'Silver and gold have I none.' He had 'left all and followed Christ';
he had not made demands on the common stock. Empty pockets may go along
with true wealth.
There is a fine flash of exultant confidence in Peter's next words,
which is rather spoiled by the Authorised Version. He did not say
'_such_ as I have,' as it it was inferior to money, which he had not,
but he said '_what_ I have' (Rev. Ver.),--a very different tone. The
expression eloquently magnifies the power which he possessed as far
more precious than wealth, and it speaks of his assurance that he did
possess it--an assurance which rested, not only on his faith in his
Lord's promise and gift, but on his experience in working former
miracles.
How deep his words go into the obligations of possession! 'What I have
I give' should be the law for all Christians in regard to all that they
have, and especially in regard to spiritual riches. God gives us these,
not only in order that we may enjoy them ourselves, but in order that
we may impart, and so in our measure enter into the joy of our Lord and
know the greater blessedness of giving than of receiving. How often it
has been true that a poor church has been a miracle-working church, and
that, when it could not say 'Silver and gold have I none' it has also
lost the power of saying, 'In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth,
walk'!
The actual miracle is most graphically narrated. With magnificent
boldness Peter rolls out his Master's name, there, in the court of the
Temple, careless who may hear. He takes the very name that had been
used in scorn, and waves it like a banner of victory. His confidence in
his possession of power was not confidence in himself, but in his Lord.
When we can peal forth the Name with as much assurance of its
miracle-working power as Peter did, we too shall be able to make the
lame walk. A faltering voice is unworthy to speak such words, and will
speak them in vain.
The process of cure is minutely described. Peter put out his hand to
help the lame man up, and, while he was doing so, power came into the
shrunken muscles and weak ankles, so that the cripple felt that he
could raise himself, and, though all passed in a moment, the last part
of his rising was his own doing, and what began with his being 'lifted
up' ended in his 'leaping up.' Then came an instant of standing still,
to steady himself and make sure of his new strength, and then he began
to walk.
The interrupted purpose of devotion could now be pursued, but with a
gladsome addition to the company. How natural is that 'walking and
leaping and praising God'! The new power seemed so delightful, so
wonderful, that sober walking did not serve. It was a strange way of
going into the Temple, but people who are borne along by the sudden joy
of new gifts beyond hope need not be expected to go quietly, and
sticklers for propriety who blamed the man's extravagance, and would
have had him pace along with sober gait and downcast eyes, like a
Pharisee, did not know what made him thus obstreperous, even in his
devout thankfulness. 'Leaping and praising God' do make a singular
combination, but before we blame, let us be sure that we understand.
One of the old manuscripts inserts a clause which brings out more
clearly that there was a pause, during which the three remained in the
Temple in prayer. It reads, 'And when Peter and John came out, he came
out with them, holding them, and they [the people] being astonished,
stood in the porch,' etc. So we have to think of the buzzing crowd,
waiting in the court for their emergence from the sanctuary. Solomon's
porch was, like the Beautiful gate, on the east side of the Temple
enclosure, and may probably have been a usual place of rendezvous for
the brethren, as it had been a resort of their Lord.
It was a great moment, and Peter, the unlearned Galilean, the former
cowardly renegade, rose at once to the occasion. Truly it was given him
in that hour what to speak. His sermon is distinguished by its
undaunted charging home the guilt of Christ's death on the nation, its
pitying recognition of the ignorance which had done the deed, and its
urgent entreaty. We here deal with its beginning only. 'Why marvel ye
at this?'--it would have been a marvel if they had not marvelled. The
thing was no marvel to the Apostle, because he believed that Jesus was
the Christ and reigned in Heaven. Miracles fall into their place and
become supremely 'natural' when we have accepted that great truth.
The fervent disavowal of their 'own power or holiness' as concerned in
the healing is more than a modest disclaimer. It leads on to the
declaration of who is the true Worker of all that is wrought for men by
the hands of Christians. That disavowal has to be constantly repeated
by us, not so much to turn away men's admiration or astonishment from
us, as to guard our own foolish hearts from taking credit for what it
may please Jesus to do by us as His tools.
The declaration of Christ as the supreme Worker is postponed till after
the solemn indictment of the nation. But the true way to regard the
miracle is set forth at once, as being God's glorifying of Jesus. Peter
employs a designation of our Lord which is peculiar to these early
chapters of Acts. He calls Him God's 'Servant,' which is a quotation of
the Messianic title in the latter part of Isaiah, 'the Servant of the
Lord.'
The fiery speaker swiftly passes to contrast God's glorifying with
Israel's rejection. The two points on which he seizes are noteworthy.
'Ye delivered Him up'; that is, to the Roman power. That was the
deepest depth of Israel's degradation. To hand over their Messiah to
the heathen,--what could be completer faithlessness to all Israel's
calling and dignity? But that was not all: 'ye denied Him.' Did Peter
remember some one else than the Jews who had done the same, and did a
sudden throb of conscious fellowship even in that sin make his voice
tremble for a moment? Israel's denial was aggravated because it was 'in
the presence of Pilate,' and had overborne his determination to release
his prisoner. The Gentile judge would rise in the judgment to condemn
them, for he had at least seen that Jesus was innocent, and they had
hounded him on to an illegal killing, which was murder as laid to his
account, but national apostasy as laid to theirs.
These were daring words to speak in the Temple to that crowd. But the
humble fisherman had been filled with the Spirit, who is the
Strengthener, and the fear of man was dead in him. If we had never
heard of Pentecost, we should need to invent something of the sort to
make intelligible the transformation of these timid folk, the first
disciples, into heroes. A dead Christ, lying in an unknown grave, could
never have inspired His crushed followers with such courage, insight,
and elastic confidence and gladness in the face of a frowning world.
'THE PRINCE OF LIFE'
'But ye denied the Holy One and the Just, and desired a murderer to be
granted unto you; 15. And killed the Prince of life, whom God hath
raised from the dead; whereof we are witnesses.'--ACTS iii. 14, 15.
This early sermon of Peter's, to the people, is marked by a comparative
absence of the highest view of Christ's person and work. It is open to
us to take one of two explanations of that fact. We may either say that
the Apostle was but learning the full significance of the marvellous
events that had passed so recently, or we may say that he suited his
words to his audience, and did not declare all that he knew.
At the same time, we should not overlook the significance of the
Christology which it does contain. 'His child Jesus' is really a
translation of Isaiah's 'Servant of the Lord.' 'The Holy One and the
Just' is a distinct assertion of Jesus' perfect, sinless manhood, and
'the Prince of Life' plainly asserts Jesus to be the Lord and Source of
it.
Notice, too, the pathetic 'denied': was Peter thinking of the shameful
hour in his own experience? It is a glimpse into the depth of his
penitence, and the tenderness with others' sins which it had given him,
that he twice uses the word here, as if he had said 'You have done no
more than I did myself. It is not for me to heap reproaches on you. We
have been alike in sin--and I can preach forgiveness to you sinners,
because I have received it for myself.'
Notice, too, the manifold antitheses of the words. Barabbas is set
against Christ; the Holy One and the Just against a robber, the Prince
of Life against a murderer. 'You killed'--'the Prince of Life.' 'You
killed'--'God raised.'
There are here three paradoxes, three strange and contradictory things:
the paradoxes of man's perverted and fatal choice, of man's hate
bringing death to the Lord of life, and of God's love and power causing
life to come by death.