_RESURRECTION LIFE AND DAILY DYING._
We have still other aspects to consider of that "gain" which the Apostle
descried in Christ, for the sake of which he had cast so much away.
To prize the righteousness of faith was an element in the true knowledge
of Christ; but it was so far from exhausting that knowledge, that it
only opened a door of progress, and brought near the most stirring
possibilities. For, indeed, to be found in Christ having that
righteousness meant that God in Christ was his, and had begun to
communicate Himself in eternal life. Now this must still reveal itself
in further and fuller knowledge of Christ. According to the Apostle's
conception, that which Christ means to be to us, that which we may
attain to be by Christ, opens progressively to the soul that has been
won to this pursuit; it comes into view and into experience in a certain
growing knowledge. It is a practical historical career; and the Apostle
was set on achieving it, not by strength or wisdom of his own, but by
the continual communication of grace, responding to desire and prayer
and endeavour.
We must not forget, what has more than once been said, that this earthly
life of ours is the scene in which the discipline goes on, in which the
career is achieved. It is the calling here and now, not at some other
stage of being, that the Apostle is thinking of for himself and for his
disciples. And as earthly life is the scene, so earthly life also
furnishes the occasions and opportunities by which the knowledge of
Christ is to advance. Any other way of it is for us inconceivable. This
life in all the various forms which it assumes for different men, in all
the changing experiences which it brings to each of us--life on the
earth we know so well--with its joy and sorrow, its labour and rest, its
gifts and its bereavements, its friends and foes, its times and places,
its exercise and interest for body and mind, for intellect and heart and
conscience, with its temptations and its better influences,--life must
furnish the opportunities for acquiring this practical knowledge of
Christ. For that which falls to us, if we are in Christ, is a certain
blessed well-being (itself an unfolding of Christ's wisdom and grace).
And this must impart itself, and reveal itself, in our actual
experience, but in an experience which we pass through under the
guidance of Christ.
This familiar life, then, is the scene; it alone can furnish the
opportunities. And yet what the Apostle apprehends, as coming into
possession and experience, is a life of a higher style, a life set on a
nobler key: it is a life that has its centre and source and true type
elsewhere; it belongs to a higher region; indeed, it is a life whose
perfect play pertains to another, coming world. Capacity for such a life
is not something superhuman; it is congenital to man, made in the image
of God. And yet, if these capacities unfold, man's life must, in the
end, become other than we know it now; with a new proportioning of
elements, with a new order of experience, with new harmonies, with
aptitudes for love and service and worship that are beyond us now. Only
now, they begin and grow; they are now to be aimed at, and realised in
earnest and firstfruit, and embraced in hope. For they are elements in
the knowledge of Christ, who is ours to know.
This is indicated in the Apostle's aspiration after knowing Christ in
the power of His resurrection, and his yearning if by any means he might
attain to the resurrection of the dead.
The resurrection of Christ marked the acceptance of His work by the
Father, and revealed the triumph in which that work ended. Death and all
the power of the enemy were overcome, and victory was attained. For one
thing, the resurrection of Christ made sure the righteousness of faith.
He rose again for our justification. So every passage of the Apostle's
life which proved that his confidence in that respect was not vain, that
God in Christ was truly his God, was an experience of the power of
Christ's resurrection. But the resurrection of Christ was also His
emergence--His _due_ emergence--into the power and blessedness of
victorious life. In the Person of Christ life in God, and unto God, had
descended into the hard conditions set for Him who would associate a
world of sinners to Himself. In the resurrection the triumph of that
enterprise came to light. Now, done with sin, and free from death, and
asserting His superiority to all humiliation and all conflict, He rose
in the fulness of a power which He was entitled also to communicate. He
rose, with full right and power to save. And so His resurrection denotes
Christ as able to inspire life, and to make it victorious in His
members.
When, then, Paul says that he would know Christ in the power of His
resurrection, he aims at a life (already his, but capable of far more
adequate development) conformed to the life which triumphed in the risen
Christ, one with that in principle, in character, and in destiny. This
was, in the meantime, to be human life on the earth, with the known
elements and conditions of that life; including, in Paul's case, some
that were hard enough. But it was to be transformed from within,
inspired with a new meaning and aim. It was to have its elements
polarised anew, organised by new forces and in a new rhythm. It was, and
was to be, pervaded by peace with God, by the consciousness of
redemption, by dedication to service. It was to include a recoil from
evil, and a sympathy with goodness,--elements these which might be so
far thought of as a reverting to the unfallen state. But it had more in
it, because it was based on redemption, and rooted in Christ who died
and rose again. It was baptised with the passion of gratitude; it was
drawn into the effort to build up the Redeemer's kingdom; and it aimed
at a better country.
So while the life we know so well was the sphere in which this
experience fulfilled itself, the longings it included pointed to an
existence higher up and further on--to an existence only to be reached
by resurrection from the dead, an existence certainly promised to be so
reached. All the effort and the longing pointed to that door of hope;
Paul was reaching on to the resurrection of the dead. For that blessed
resurrection would consummate and fulfil the likeness to Christ and the
fellowship with Him, and would usher into a manner of being where the
experience of both should be unimpeded. The life of "knowing Christ"
could not be contented here, could not rest satisfied short of that
consummation. For indeed to be with Christ and to labour for Christ here
on earth was good; yet so that to depart and be with Christ was far
better.
We have here to do with the active and victorious aspect of Christian
life, the energy in it that makes it new and great. It holds by a title
and it draws from a source which must be looked for, both of them, high
up in heaven. Something in it has already triumphed over death.
It may be felt, however, that there is some danger here lest the great
words of Paul may carry us off our feet, and divorce us from _terra
firma_ altogether. Some one may ask, But what does all this mean in
practice? What sort of life is it to be? Apostles can soar, perhaps; but
how about the man in the workshop or in the counting-house, or the woman
busied in family cares? A life in "the power of a resurrection" seems to
be something that transcends earthly conditions altogether. These are
perfectly fair questions, and one should try to meet them with a plain
reply.
The life in view is first of all goodness in its ordinary sense, or what
we call common morality--common honesty, common truthfulness, common
kindness. "Let him that stole steal no more, but rather let him labour";
"Not slothful in business"; "Lie not one to another, seeing ye have put
off the old man with his deeds." But then this common morality begins to
have an uncommon heart or spirit in it, by reason of Christ. So a new
love for goodness and a new energy of rejection of evil begin to work;
also, a new sensitiveness to discern good, where its obligation was not
felt before, and to be aware of evil which, before, was tolerated.
Moreover, in the heart of this "common morality" the man carries about a
consciousness of his own relation to God, and also of the relation to
God of all with whom he meets. This consciousness is very imperfect,
sometimes perhaps almost vanishes. Yet the man is aware that an immense
truth is here close to him, and he has begun to be alive to it. This
consciousness tends to give a new value to all the "moralities": it
awakens a new percipiency as to good and evil; in particular, the great
duty of purity in relation to the man himself, and to others, acquires a
new sacredness. The place and claims of self also begin to be judged by
a quite new standard. In all directions possibilities of good and evil
in human life are descried; and the obligation to refuse the evil and to
choose the good presses with a new force. So far, the remark made a
little ago is justified, that the Christian life of Paul was a life that
had begun to point practically towards sinlessness, towards what we call
an unfallen state; however far off it might be, as yet, from that
attainment. But this would be a very limited account of the matter. The
whole region of duty and privilege Godwards is lighted up now by the
faith of redemption in Christ; that not only awakens gratitude, but
inspires a new passion of desire and hope into all moral effort. And the
man, being now aware of a kingdom of goodness set up by Christ, which is
making its way to victory against all the power of evil, and being aware
of the agencies by which it works, must give himself in his own place to
the service of that kingdom, that he may not hurt but help the cause
which it embodies. The new life is therefore to be an energetic life of
the plainest goodness. Only faith places it in relation to the world of
faith, and inspires it with the passion of love and gratitude, and
amplifies it by the new horizons that fall back on all sides, and gives
it a goal in the hope of life eternal.
Returning to the instance of the Apostle Paul, one observes from his
account of it that the regard of the believer to Christ, such regard as
may actually be attained and operative in this life, ought to fructify
into desires and prayers that point beyond this life, and reach out to
the resurrection of the dead. There is a contentedness with life here
that is not Christian. It would agree well with a thankful use of
earthly comforts, and a cheerful serenity amid earth's changes, that we
should feel our home and our treasure to be in another place, and the
enjoyment of them to lie in a coming world. Not otherwise shall we know
how to make a right Christian use and have a right Christian enjoyment
of this life. We are not prepared to get the full good of this world
until we are ready and willing to go out of it.
Let it be observed, also, how the Apostle strove to "attain" the
resurrection of the dead. The great things of the Kingdom of God are
exhibited in various connections, none of which are to be overlooked.
One of these connections is here exhibited.
We know that in Scripture a distinction is made between the resurrection
of the righteous and the resurrection of the wicked. A solemn obscurity
rests on the manner and the principles of the latter, the resurrection
to shame. But the resurrection of the just takes place in virtue of
their union to Christ; it is after the example of His resurrection; it
is to glory and honour. Now this resurrection, while it is most
obviously a crowning blessing and benefaction coming from God, is
represented also as having the character of an attainment made by us.
The faith in which we turn to God is the beginning of a course leading
to the "end of our faith, the salvation of our souls." This end
coincides with the resurrection. Then the hour comes which completes,
then the state arrives in which is completed, the redemption of the man.
The resurrection rises before us, therefore, as something which, while
on the one hand promised and given by God, is, on the other hand,
"attained" by us. Our Lord (Luke xx. 35) speaks of those who shall be
"counted worthy to attain that world, and the resurrection of the dead."
The resurrection is promised to believers. It is promised to arise to
them in sequel to a certain course--a history of redemption, made good
in their lives. How shall the disciple verify his expectation of this
final benefit? Not surely without verifying the intermediate history.
The way must point towards the end--_at least_, must _point_ towards it.
A resurrection state, if it be like Christ's, how much must it include!
What purity, what high aptitudes, what delicate congenialities! The
desires of the true Christian life, its aspirations and efforts, as well
as the promises which animate and the influences which sustain it, all
point in this direction. But how if in any case this prove unreal,
deceptive; how if it be ostensible only? How if no real changes take
place, or if they die out again? What if soul and body rise unchanged,
the soul polluted, and so the very body bearing the stamp of old sins?
What if the murderous eye of hate, or the lurid eye of lust, shall look
into the eyes of Him whose eyes are as a flame of fire? Accordingly this
connection of things is impressed upon us by our Apostle (Rom. viii.
11): "_If_ the Spirit of Him that raised up Christ from the dead dwell
in you, He that raised up Christ from the dead shall also quicken your
mortal body by His Spirit which dwelleth in you." While we live here,
our body, however disciplined, must still be the body of our humiliation
(ver. 21); and sin continues to beset even renewed souls. But if the
Spirit of grace is even now bringing all into subjection to the
obedience of Christ, enabling us to die to sin and to live to
righteousness, that points forward to the completion of the work, in the
resurrection to glory.
This, then, is one view in which the Apostle realises the solemnity and
interest of Christian life. It is the way that leads up to such a
resurrection. The resurrection rises before him as the consummate
triumph of that life for which he came to Christ, the life which he
longs perfectly to possess, perfectly to know. The success of his great
venture is to meet Him in the rising from the dead; his course,
meanwhile, is a striving onwards to it. How was it to be reached? In
order to that, much must still be brought into experience of the
resurrection power of Christ. Only in that strength did Paul look to be
carried to the point at which, ending his course, he should lie down (if
he died before Christ come) in the blessed hope of the rising from the
dead. For this he looked to Christ to work mightily in him; for this he
owned himself bound, under the grace of Christ, to strive mightily, if
"by any means" he might attain to it. So great is this consummation; so
great are those things which fitly lead up to it. Is it not a great view
of Christian religion that it sends men onward in a life in which they
"attain" to the resurrection of the dead? Must not that be a great
history of which this is the appropriate close?
Paul, then, was eager to go forward in a life intense and mighty,
drawing on a great power to sustain it, and rising into splendid effects
and results. But yet, in respect of some of its aspects, it rather
seemed to the Apostle to be a certain deliberate and blessed dying. At
least, the life must fulfil and realise itself along such a dying; and
this also, this emphatically, he pressed on to know--"the fellowship of
His sufferings, being made conformable to His death."
Our Lord's life on earth, strong and beautiful though it was, was really
at the same time His procedure towards death. He lived as one laying
down His life, not merely in one great sacrifice at the close, but from
step to step along His whole earthly history. With no touch of the
morbid or the fanatical, yet His course, in practice, had to be one of
self-impoverishment, of loneliness, of acquaintance with energetic
hostility of sin and sinners. It had to be so if it was to be faithful.
He knew not where to lay His head; He endured the contradiction of
sinners against Himself; He came unto His own, and His own received Him
not. Even His friends, whom He so loved, and who loved Him in their
imperfect way, did not love Him wisely or magnanimously, and constantly
became occasions of temptation which had to be resisted. Pain and trial
were the inevitable characters of the work given Him to do. It lay in
His calling to put a strong and faithful negative on the natural desire
for safety, for happiness, for congenial society and surroundings, for
free and unembarrassed life. All this He had steadily to postpone to a
period beyond the grave, and meanwhile make His way to the final crisis,
at which, under a mysterious burden of extreme sorrow, accepted as the
Saviour's proper portion, He died for our sins. By this sacrifice He
did, no doubt, relieve His followers of a burden which they never could
have borne. But yet in doing so He made it possible for them to enter,
happily and hopefully, on a life so far like His own. Their life, too,
comes to be governed by a decision, maintained and persisted in, _for_
God's will, and against the impulse, in their case the impure and
treacherous impulse, of their own will. They also, in their turn, but
under His influence and with His loving succour, have so to live as in
that life to die. They learn to say "No" for their Master's sake to many
objects which strongly appeal to them. They consent to postpone the
period of perfectly harmonious life, free and unimpeded, to the time
which lies beyond death. They must count their true life to be that
which, perfectly conformed to and associated with their Master's life,
they shall live in another scene of things. Meanwhile, as to the
elements of this world, the life which stands in these must die, or they
must die to it, growing into the mind of their Lord.
It is difficult to speak of this without, on the one hand, conveying a
strained and unreal view of the Christian's attitude towards the present
life, or, on the other hand, weakening too much the sense of "conformity
to His death." In the first place, the Christian's dying is mainly, and
certainly it is first of all, a dying to sin, a mortifying the flesh
with the affections and lusts. It is the practical renunciation of evil,
along with the maintenance of the watchfulness and self-discipline
needed in order to be ready to renounce evil when it comes. Evil has to
be rejected, not merely by itself, but at the cost of those earthly
interests which are involved in the surrender to it, however dear or
constraining those interests may seem to be; so that conformity to
Christ's death, if it covered no more, would still cover a great deal of
ground. But it seems to cover something more--namely, a general
loosening of the grasp upon this life, or on the temporary and sensible
elements of it, in view of the worth and certainty of the higher and the
better life. This life, indeed, as long as we are in it, can never lose
its claims upon us, as the sphere of our duty, and the scene of our
training. Here we have our place to fill, our relations to sustain, our
part to play, our ministries to perform. In all these ways of it we
have some good to do, of lower or loftier kinds; in all, we have many
lessons to learn, which crowd upon us to the last; through all, we have
to carry the faith of the unseen Kingdom and the unseen Lord; and in all
these aspects of earthly life, if God gives us any cheering experience
of earthly brightness, surely it is to be taken most thankfully. It is a
poor way of construing the conformity to Christ's death, to renounce
interest in the life of which we are a part, and the world which is the
scene of it. But the interest should fasten more intently on the things
which interest our Lord, and eagerness of spirit about earthly good for
ourselves must give place and subside.
And yet, when one thinks of the beauty and sweetness of much that
pertains to our earthly existence, and of the goodness of God in
material or temporal gifts, and of the thankfulness with which Christian
hearts are to take these when they are given, and are to walk with God
in the use of them, one feels the risk of involving oneself here in
extravagance or in contradiction. We are not going to maintain that the
Apostle would shut himself out, or us, from interest or delight in the
innocent beauty or gladness of the earth. But yet, is it not true that
we are all passing on to death, and in death are to be parted from all
this? Is it not true that as Christians we consent to dying; we count it
the good discipline of Christ's people that they should die, and pass so
into the better life? Is it not true that our life as Christians should
train us to maintain this mind deliberately and habitually, calmly and
gladly? For indeed this life, at its purest and best, still offers to us
a vision of good that is apt to steal our hearts away from the supreme
good, the best and highest. Now that best and highest rises before us,
as practically to be made ours, in the resurrection.
Meanwhile, it is well, no doubt, that we should cherish a frank and
thankful gladness in all earthly good and earthly beauty that can be
taken as from the Father's hand. Yet there should grow upon us an inward
consent, strengthening as the days go by, that this shall not endure;
that it shall not be our permanent possession; that it shall be loosely
held, as ere long to be parted from. Such a mind should grow, not
because our hearts are cold to the present country of our being, but
because they are warming towards a better country. These earthly things
are good, but they are not ours; we have only a lease of them,
terminable at any time. Who shall bring us to that which is, and shall
eternally be, our very own?
So Christ our Master passed through life, with an open eye and heart for
the fair and the lovable around Him, for flowers and little children,
and for what was estimable or attractive in men, even in a natural way.
Surely all was dear to Him on which He could see the trace of the
Creator's holy hands. Yet He passed on and passed by, going forward to
death and consenting to die, His face set steadfastly to a joy before
Him which could not be realised by lingering here.
Now let this be especially observed, that while we may here recognise a
practical lesson to be learned, the wisest of us may also recognise it
as a lesson we could not undertake to teach to ourselves. To oppose sin,
when conscience and God's word warn us of its presence, is at least
something definite and plain. But how to take the right attitude and
bear the right mind towards this various, manifold, engrossing,
wonderful human life, as it unfolds for us here--how shall that be done?
Some have tried to answer by amputating large sections of human
experience. But that is not the way. For, indeed, it is in human life
itself--in this present, and, for the present, the only form of our
existence--that we must take the right view of human life, and form the
right mind about it. Moreover, our conditions are varying continually,
from the state of the little child, open to every influence that strikes
the sense, to the state of the old man, whom age is shutting up in a
crippled and stunted existence. The just equipoise of soul for one stage
of life, could it be attained, would not be the just equipoise for the
next.
The truth is, there is no ready-made theory here for any of us. All our
attainments in it are tentative and provisional; which does not hinder,
however, that they may be very real. When we believe in Christ we become
aware that there is a lesson in this department to be learned, and we
become willing, in a measure, to learn it. But we should learn little
were it not for three great teachers that take us in hand.
The first is the inevitable conflict with sin and temptation. The
Christian must, at all events, strive against known sin, and he must
hold himself ready to resist the onset of temptation, watching and
praying. In this discipline he soon learns how sin is entangled for him
with much that in other respects seems desirable or good; he learns that
in rejecting sin he must forgo some things which on other accounts he
gladly would embrace. It is often a painful conflict through which he
has to pass. Now in seeking help from his Lord, and entering into the
fellowship of the mind of Christ, he is not only strengthened to repel
the sin, but also learns to submit willingly to any impoverishment or
abridgement of earthly life which the conflict entails. He is taught in
practice, now in one form, now in another, to count _all_ things but
loss--to lower the overweening estimate of earthly treasure and let it
go, dying to it with his dying Lord.
Then, besides, there is the discipline of suffering. Sorrow, indeed, is
not peculiar to Christians. Of it, all are partakers. But Christian
endurance is part of a fellowship with Christ, in which we learn of Him.
In the warm air of prosperity a hot mist rises round the soul, that
hides from view the great realities, and that deceives and misleads us
with its vain mirage. But in suffering, taken in Christ's way and in
fellowship with Him, in the pain of disappointment and of loss, and
especially in the exercise of submission, we are taught feelingly where
our true treasure is; and we are trained to consent to separations and
privations, for the sake of Christ, and under the influence of the love
of Christ.
And, lastly, the growth of Christian experience and Christian character
deepens our impressions of the worth of Christ's salvation, and gives
more body and more ardour to Christian hope. As that world with its
perfect good draws the believer, as it becomes more visible to faith and
more attractive, his grasp of this world becomes, perhaps, not less
kindly, but it becomes less tenacious. Knowledge, such as the schools of
earth afford, we still feel to be desirable and good. Love, under the
conditions which earth supplies for its exercise, we still feel to be
very dear. The activities which call out courage and resource, we still
feel to be interesting and worthy. Yet knowledge proves to be but in
part. And love, if it does not die, needs for its health and security a
purer air. And in the problems of active life failure still mingles with
success. But the love of God which is in Jesus Christ grows in worth and
power; so that, in new applications of the principle, we learn afresh to
"count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of
Christ."
In a word, then, that we may grow into the mind of Christ, sufferings
and self-denials are appointed to come into experience. He sets them for
us; we should not wisely set them for ourselves. They come in the
conflict with sin or in the ordinary discipline of life. Either way they
become for believers the fellowship of Christ's sufferings; for they are
taken in Christ's way, under His eye, endured in the strength of His
truth and grace and salvation. So believers become more conformable to
His death. Hence this discipline of trial is indispensable to all
disciples.
Some such view of the ends of Christ in regard to separation from sin
and disengagement from the life which is doomed to die, we suppose to
have been before Paul's mind. He had come to Christ for life, abundant
and victorious, such as should be answerable to the power of Christ's
resurrection. But he saw that such life must fulfil itself in a certain
dying, made good in a fellowship of Christ's sufferings; and it must
find its completeness and its peace beyond death, in the resurrection of
the dead. Did he flinch or shrink from this? No: he longed to have it
all perfectly accomplished. His knowledge of Christ was to be not only
in the power of His resurrection, but in the fellowship of His
sufferings, being made conformable to His death.
Whatever mistakes have been made by followers of the ascetic life, it is
a mistake on the other side to neglect this element of Christianity. He
who is not self-denied, and that cheerfully, to the danger and seduction
of _lawful_ things, is one who has not his loins girt nor his lamp
burning.
It is worth our while to mark the thoroughgoing sincerity of the
Apostle's Christianity. Not merely did he in general embrace Christ and
salvation: but with the utmost cordiality he embraced the method of
Christ; he strove after fellowship with Christ's mind in living, and
also in dying; he did so, though the fellowship included not only the
power of His resurrection, but the fellowship of His sufferings. He
longed to have it all fulfilled in his own case. So he strove toward the
resurrection of the dead.
In parting from these great Christian thoughts we may note how fitly the
power of Christ's resurrection takes precedence of the fellowship of His
sufferings and the being made conformable to His death. Some have
thought that, as death comes before resurrection, the order of the
clauses might have been inverted. But it is only through the precedent
virtue of Christ's resurrection that such a history is achieved, either
in Paul or in any of us. We must be partakers of life in the power of
Christ's resurrection, if we are to carry through the fellowship with
the suffering and the death.
_CHRISTIAN LIFE A RACE._
"Not that I have already obtained, or am already made perfect: but
I press on, if so be that I may apprehend that for which also I was
apprehended by Christ Jesus. Brethren, I count not myself yet to
have apprehended: but one thing I do, forgetting the things which
are behind, and stretching forward to the things which are before,
I press on toward the goal unto the prize of the high calling of
God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be
thus minded: and if in anything ye are otherwise minded, even this
shall God reveal unto you: only, whereunto we have already
attained, by that same rule let us walk.
"Brethren, be ye imitators together of me, and mark them which so
walk even as ye have us for an ensample."--PHIL. iii. 12-17 (R.V.).