THE TRUE NONCONFORMIST.

A Communion Sermon, Delivered Sept. 16, 1866,

In The First Presbyterian Church, Troy, N. Y.

Rom. xii, 2. “_And be not conformed to this world: but be ye

transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what

is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God_.”

By itself, this command is ambiguous. Common sense testifies that, in very

many things, every Christian _must_, more or less, conform to the world.

Many of the world’s customs are not only harmless, but salutary,

beautiful, ennobling, necessary to the very being of society. We need some

test by which to interpret this command.

Let us first endeavor, as a means of discovering it, to clear away a

preliminary error, viz.: the not uncommon idea that difference from the

world is a matter of any value or consequence of itself. A great many

persons, lamenting over real or supposed deficiencies of Christians, make

this the staple of their complaint; _you cannot distinguish them from the

world:_ and when urging upon them some duty, or the relinquishment of some

practice, enforce it by the argument, Christians should aim to be distinct

from the world.

There is truth in this, but there is also falsehood. Christians, _real_

Christians, will always be distinct from the world, and the distinction

will be very clearly defined. But Christians should not make it their

_object_ to be distinct from the world. They should aim to be Christians,

and let the distinction follow in its natural order and degree.

Singularity, in itself, is no virtue. It is just as likely to be a vice. A

man is not necessarily better because he is unlike the rest of the world.

Difference from the world, therefore, is not an _end_ of Christian

discipline, but a result and concomitant of it. This distinction is of the

utmost importance. If distinctiveness is regarded as an _object_ of

Christian effort, its value is sacrificed. Its tendency is to formality;

to the substitution of a variety of _outward_ standards of duty for a

single _inward_ regulative principle. To pride and self-righteousness on

the ground of singularity. Such have been its developments, for instance,

in certain religious sects who insisted on plainness of dress as a duty.

Undoubtedly the spirit which originally prompted the requisition was good,

Christlike. It was the desire to take from the useless adornment of the

person and bestow upon objects of Christian effort and charity. It was the

desire to remove temptations to vanity and idle display. But in too many

cases these things were forgotten. Christians received the precept in the

letter and not in the spirit. They came to insist on plainness of dress as

a mark of a true Christian, and forgot that materials of plain or sad

colors might be as costly and rich as gayer ones. They came to pride

themselves on their plainness as a distinction from the rest of the world.

They said bitter and unchristian things against the man who should carry a

gold watch or the woman who should wear a feather or a ribbon. They

perverted scripture to uphold this ridiculous whim, and brought scorn upon

themselves and reproach upon the cause of Christ, because they turned

their eyes from the inward, regulative power of the gospel to one of its

natural developments, and looked at that until it grew out of all

proportion.

How then are we rightly to apply this command?

The apostle, in giving us an answer, takes up the question at the very

point at which most inquirers do, viz.: at the matter of _sacrifice_. For

this is the way in which it presents itself to most minds. In order not to

be conformed to the world, I must sacrifice much that is of the world.

What, now, may I retain, and what must I relinquish?

And in Paul’s answer, he strikes directly at any such method of putting

the question. Non-conformity to the world involves sacrifice, it is true,

but not a sacrifice made in any such spirit as this—a spirit that ere it

gives itself to Christ, sits down and begins to sort its possessions,

pleasures, pursuits, into two piles, saying: “this for God, this for the

world: this goes back to my treasure house, this I throw away.” Not so. He

sweeps the whole into one heap, and says, “I beseech you brethren, by the

mercies of God, that ye _present your bodies a living sacrifice, and be

transformed by the renewing of your mind_.” He asks that the _whole man_,

with all his belongings, be made an offering to God, even as he says in

another place, “the very God of peace sanctify you _wholly_, and I pray

God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the

coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” He rises above details of sacrifice to a

sacrifice which includes and regulates all details; and in so doing he is

but insisting upon the precept of Christ: “If any man will be my disciple,

let him _deny himself_.” And notice particularly the meaning of this

precept which is so generally but half understood. It is not, let him cut

himself off from this thing or that thing, but let him _deny himself_;

literally, let him _say that self is not_, and that the will of Christ is

_everything_. Holding fast this principle a man cannot greatly err. The

will of Christ and the will of the world are so diametrically opposite,

that he cannot go toward the one without going away from the other. A man

has no business to waste time pondering over the _details_ of his

sacrifice for Christ’s sake, tormenting himself with deciding between what

is right and what is wrong; what is worldly and what is heavenly. The will

of Christ once heartily embraced as a rule of life will teach him to

decide. Christ received into the heart will regulate its affinities and

repulsions. The law of the _spirit_ of life in Christ Jesus shall make the

soul free from the law of sin and death, so that it shall hate the things

it once loved, and love those it once despised.

Young people often come to their pastor saying: “If I become a Christian,

must I give up such and such things? Must I discharge such and such

duties?” And for myself I reply to them—“I have no answer to give you. I

will not encourage you to come to Christ in this mean, bargain-making

spirit. If your conscience tells you a thing is wrong, as it does in many

cases, you have no need to ask me if Christ will require its

relinquishment. You know he will, without any compromise. But when it

comes to any doubtful matter, waive that question. You have nothing

whatever to do with it now. Christ requires of you to be willing to obey

him implicitly in all things, without regard to your own feelings or

preferences, your own prosperity or safety, no matter what duties or

sacrifices obedience involves; and I simply ask you _are you willing to do

this?_ If you are not, Christ does not want you. A young man goes to a

recruiting office to enlist. The sergeant examines him, and says: ‘you are

just the kind of man I want. Here, put down your name. Your bounty is so

much; your pay will be so much.’ The recruit takes the pen in his hand,

but stops suddenly in the act of writing his name, and says: ‘How far

shall I be required to march daily? What kind of a tent shall I have? Must

I do picket duty beyond regular hours? To what kind of a climate am I to

be sent?’ How long do you suppose the officer would keep patience with

such a man? How many of these questions would he pretend to answer, even

if he could? He would simply say to the man: ‘we make no terms with you,

sir, beyond your bounty and pay. If you enlist, you do so with the

understanding that a soldier has nothing to do but obey orders; to serve

where, when, and how he may be directed. If you want to know these things,

enlist, and you will find out when you are in service.’ Just so I say to

one who begins inquiring into the details of Christ’s service: If you want

to find out, enlist. Commit your life to Christ’s keeping. Devote yourself

to Christ’s service, and ‘if any man _wills_ to do his will, he shall know

of the doctrine.’ An inquirer for salvation, tormenting himself about what

he must do and what relinquish, forgets that he is in no condition to

decide such a question. To decide it he wants just that spiritual insight

and those new affinities which faith in Christ and the consequent renewal

of his nature will give him. He wants to see these things from a

stand-point which he has not yet attained. He had far better let them go

for the present, and concentrate his resolution on this one point: ‘I give

myself to Jesus without reserve. Whatever he tells me I may enjoy I will

endeavor to enjoy in his love and fear. Whatever he bids me cast away,

though it be a right hand, I will cut it off and cast it from me.’ ” A

young man once came to me saying: “There seems to be but one thing in the

way of my entire surrender to Christ. If I become a Christian, and a

member of the church, I don’t see how I can ever take any public part in

the religious meetings. If I could only decide whether God required this

of me, I think my way would be clear.” I said to him, “My brother, you are

not called on to settle that question now. You have no means of deciding

it. You had better drop it altogether for the present. God has promised

that if you will commit your ways unto him he will direct you. Now I

believe you sincerely want to do God’s will, and that you are ready,

whenever he shall show it you, to pledge yourself to do your duty. Leave

the matter there; and if, at any time, this duty should be thrust upon

you, do it in God’s name and strength.” He soon after joined the church,

and has borne himself since with a fidelity and devotion which speak well

for the thoroughness of the work of grace in him.

Now this is what the apostle means by a _living_ sacrifice. This spirit of

consecration infused into sacrifice fills it with life. The sacrifice

becomes “living” only when self dies; when the man says

“Here Lord, I give myself away:

’Tis all that I can do.”

The other method of securing nonconformity to the world by acting for the

mere sake of difference or according to circumstances, constitutes a dead

sacrifice. Such were the sacrifices of the Pharisees. They thanked God

they were not as other men; but the difference was but outward. To the

spectator’s eye they were not conformed to the world. They did not dress

like it. Their prayers were longer and more frequent. They did not eat

with publicans and sinners. But these differences had become the chief end

of their religious life. Their development was like arranging the limbs of

a corpse for exhibition. They were not the natural, spontaneous outgrowths

of a living inward principle; and hence the Pharisees have passed into

history as the representative hypocrites of all time.

The essential character of this self-sacrifice will farther appear from a

correct understanding of the phrase _reasonable service_. On this, two

things must be remarked. 1st, that the expression does not belong to the

words “_living sacrifice_” alone, but to the whole exhortation. In other

words, it is not the _living sacrifice_ which is a reasonable service, but

the presenting the bodies a living sacrifice, “holy, acceptable unto God.”

2dly, it is to be noted that the expression “_reasonable __ service_” is

very commonly misunderstood to mean a service which is proper or becoming;

which we have the best of all reasons for rendering. This is all true; but

this is not what the text means. It signifies a service whose main spring

is in the _thinking, reasoning, spiritual_ department of man’s nature—a

spiritual service rendered to a God who is a spirit, and who requireth to

be worshiped in spirit and in truth. Of such Peter says: “ye also, as

lively stones, are built up _a spiritual house_, a holy priesthood, to

offer up _spiritual sacrifices_ acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.” In

pursuance of this idea, the apostle, in our text, after speaking of the

presenting of _the body_ as a living sacrifice, and of such a presentation

as a _reasoning_ service, gives us the key to the whole thought by his

final exhortation, “be ye transformed by the _renewing of your mind_;” so

that it is clear that the outward conformity of the body to God’s will, is

made both a living sacrifice and a reasoning service by having its

mainspring in a renewed mind. Only thus will the body be offered alive to

God. Only thus will the mind be truly transformed. All the outward

developments of the life will then bear the stamp of a reasoning service.

The way of peace will be chosen from conviction. The will, self-impelled,

will set toward God. The conscience will be alive with a divinely inspired

sensitiveness. All the affections and desires, of their own accord, will

stretch their hands towards Christ, and the renewed man will daily realize

that the water which Jesus gives is _in_ him, living water, springing up

into everlasting life.

It is then clear, I think, from what has been said, that nonconformity to

the world is not the _aim_, but one of the incidents of Christian life.

The Christian’s _aim_ is distinctly stated here to be the proving of the

will of God—that which is good, acceptable and perfect. Yet nonconformity

to the world will develop itself as a _necessary incident_ of Christian

living. Being transformed by the renewing of the mind, the outward life

will necessarily be transformed also, and will cease to be conformed to

the world. The soul which desires that which is good, acceptable, perfect,

can no longer find affinity with that which is bad, imperfect, and

displeasing to God. The differences are not incidental, they are generic.

The Christian and the world belong to different orders; are regulated by

different laws. The Christian is, as it were, grafted upon the new stock,

and can no more bear the fruit of his old sinful life, than the ingrafted

branch can bear its former fruit. Old things have passed away. All things

have become new. He is a new creature in Christ Jesus. These differences

have not to be marked by finely drawn lines of casuistry. There are indeed

points at which the worldly and the Christian life run for a little way

parallel. Points where neither party can very well act differently from

the other. But for all that, the divergence is wide enough at many other

points to leave no doubt. I am speaking now of _true_ Christians,

thoroughly renewed in the spirit of their mind; courageous, unflinching,

consistent Christians: not of those whifflers and compromisers who call

themselves Christians, and who try to trim between God and the world, so

as to relinquish no advantages on the side of either. A man cannot live

many hours by the rule of Christ without coming into direct issue with the

world. And now, as to these points of difference, they are, of course, too

numerous to be dealt with in detail. And I can, therefore, only call your

attention to one or two classes of them.

1st: On which I need not dwell, is the class of _worldly sins_. Of course

the transformed man will not be conformed to the world in these. Not that

a Christian never errs, by any means, but that the general current of his

life will set in the direction of pleasing God, and away from those things

which are plainly contrary to his will.

2d. A marked difference develops itself in the region of the motives, the

tempers, the dispositions, and the principles of action. Sometimes it is

difficult to pronounce upon these differences with certainty, yet some of

them are easily recognizable. Two men will often do precisely the same

thing from different motives. A Christian and a worldly man, for example,

are foully abused by a profane ruffian. Both receive the abuse in silence,

and go their way without bestowing any attention upon him. But the two are

commonly actuated by very different impulses. The one turns away with

anger and loathing, and is silent because it is beneath his dignity to

reply, or to notice the aggressor. The other, though tempted to anger,

remembers the example of him whom he serves. Who, when he was reviled,

reviled not again and leaves the railer, striving to pity his ignorance,

and to forget his insult. Pride accomplishes, outwardly, in the one case,

what Christian humility does in the other. So in cases of great

affliction, it is sometimes hard to decide, from outward indications,

whether divine grace or native force of will is the stronger. The worldly

man will exhibit equal composure with the Christian; will seem, for the

time, to accept the visitation with no less equanimity than the other. But

those who are much with men under such circumstances, and come perhaps as

close to their hearts as it is possible for man to do, recognize a very

decided difference. They know that the composure which springs from

stoicism, iron nerve, indomitable will, is a different thing from that

which is born of submission and resignation to the will of God. That the

one but crowds the sharp grief deeper into the heart, and shuts up the

fountain of healing tears, and makes the man hard and sullen and defiant,

and chills his sympathies, and disposes him to solitary brooding, and

after all, gives way at last, and leaves him a broken reed, while the

other finds in the breach which God made in his cherished plans, an

opening through which heaven smiles on him, rises on the ruins of his

wrecked hopes to a purer and more unselfish life, draws sweetness out of

his sorrow, and wins a firmer trust in God, and a deeper and more

comprehensive sympathy for his sorrowing brethren everywhere. These

differences are endless. They cover every variety of experience. The world

talks of the dignity of man, asserts his knowledge and his unimpaired

judgment. The Christian distrusts his deceitful heart and fallen nature,

and becomes a little child that he may know the truth. The world walks by

sight and sneers at faith. Faith is the Christian’s atmosphere, out of

which he cannot breathe freely. The world talks of law, the Christian of

providence. The world knows God, either vaguely, as a deity to be feared

for his power, and but dimly apprehended by man, or as a mere aggregate of

laws divorced from any real, apprehensible personality. The Christian

communes and walks with him daily as a tender, loving, and wise father.

But I hasten to a third class of differences, with which I shall deal more

at length: I mean those which appear in the Christian’s conduct respecting

those things which he uses in common with the world. Under this head falls

that large class of actions, which, _in themselves considered_, have no

moral value, but acquire one from the end they are made to serve, the

manner in which they are pursued, or the motive in which they originate.

On these arise the most perplexing of all moral questions, the most subtle

cases of conscience, and too often, I grieve to say, the most acrimonious

discussions. Under this head are included most of those vexed questions as

to amusements, dress, meat and drink, and the like. And this text, I am

sorry to say, has been made the basis for inculcating some most false and

pernicious doctrines concerning these things.

Now it seems to me that very many of the difficulties which arise on these

subjects are quite unnecessary, and would be in great part destroyed by

resting upon the simple, unequivocal testimony of the Bible. I do not

think that God’s Word is at all wanting in explicitness on these points.

Here is this text for instance. Nothing can be plainer. It tells us our

first great duty is to submit our wills to God’s will; to commit ourselves

to his guidance without reserve, a living sacrifice; to be transformed;

and that when this shall have been done, we shall know what the will of

God is; we shall practically prove what is good and acceptable and

perfect, and, as a matter of course, shall not be conformed to the sinful

principles and practices of the world. Now it follows from this that

whatever is good and acceptable and perfect, not opposed to the new

principle of life in us, is ours, given us by God to use and enjoy; and

that in the use and enjoyment of it within the limits he prescribes, we

_are not conformed to the world_ in any bad sense. I say this, well aware

that every one of these things contains capabilities for abuse, and that

the world does most sadly abuse them; and this brings me directly to my

point that the difference between Christians and the world as respects

these things is to be developed _in the proper use and regulation by

Christians of what the world abuses_. Christians are not to be driven from

every point which the world sees fit to occupy by the hue and cry of

nonconformity. They are to remember that in these things there is a duty

to be done as well as a pleasure to be enjoyed, and that they are to show

their nonconformity, not by abandoning, but by refusing to conform to the

world’s excesses, and by insisting on the restraining principles of God’s

Word. Let us here hold closely by the opening thought of our discussion,

that conformity to the world _in itself_ is no sin, and nonconformity _in

itself_ no virtue. Conformity to the world is sinful when the world’s

practice is sinful and not otherwise.

Now this is a very plain rule. It is Christ’s rule. Paul takes it directly

from Christ. But I am aware that another question enters here, namely,

that of expediency. There may be private considerations tending to make

the relinquishment of a harmless thing expedient for you or for me. There

may be considerations growing out of your relations to others which may

render use inexpedient. In such cases, expediency, of course, assumes _to

you_ the obligation of law. But as regards these cases no man can decide

for you. The Bible throws them on your own conscience. Let every man be

fully persuaded _in his own mind_. Expediency is a matter for individuals.

No law can be laid down for it. The two things necessarily exclude each

other. If you lay it down that such a course is expedient for _every one_,

you remove the matter at once from the region of expediency, and put it on

the ground of law; and this course no man nor body of men is ever

justified in pursuing. Such a step trenches on the sacred enclosure of the

individual moral sense, a holy of holies, into which man and his Maker

alone enter. At the same time, abundant light will be given to every

humble, faithful child of Christ, to settle these questions of expediency.

When love to God is the moving principle of a man’s life, it develops in

him an insight which guides him unerringly through questions where

casuistry would become hopelessly entangled. You may see the same truth

illustrated in your own homes. See that loving, obedient child, whose

highest delight is to perform your behest and anticipate your wishes. How

very few errors that child commits, even in cases where you have laid down

no rule. It reaches the knowledge of your wishes through a kind of

instinct as reliable as it is undefinable. Surely faith ought to teach us

to expect a clew through such mazes from a Father who has promised that he

will direct the paths of those who acknowledge him.

And here, I insist, whether the question be one of law or of expediency,

has been a grave error of the church in not trusting enough to this inward

principle of life in the soul, to this insight of love, to regulate the

outward developments of the life, and to prevent the obliteration of the

lines between the church and the world. She has busied herself too much

with details, and not enough with that which lies back of them; too much

with the circumference and not enough with the centre. Christ teaches us

that if the fountain be pure, the streams must be pure. But the church, in

her unconscious distrust of the purifying power of the fountain, has

thrown into the streams such abundance of mint, anise, and cummin, that

the taste of the original water is sometimes sadly impaired. Too often,

while she has been busy with the streams, the fountain head has been

gathering unsuspected poison. While I recognize the church’s duty to watch

carefully over Christ’s flock, to counsel, rebuke, restrain, I think that

she has encouraged, in many cases, by her want of faith in the power of

the relation between Christ and the believer, an artificial religious

life, a factitious conscience, a life wanting the freedom and naturalness

of movement properly engendered by the gospel. I think she should have

insisted more on having this clearly defined and constantly maintained,

more on a full assurance, and a lively faith, and an ever burning love,

and less on details which these would have regulated of themselves. I

believe that if she had done this, and moreover had preached the word

literally and boldly to the people, had told the people their privilege to

use God’s gifts, and pointed them to the principle of love to God as

competent to regulate use, and not twisted its declarations into warrants

for the abridgment of Christian liberty,—there would be in the church

to-day more simple, strong, manly, intelligent piety, and far less

conformity to the world. This distinction between safe and unsafe truths

is a Romish and not a Protestant idea; and the temporary gain secured by

acting upon it is more than counterbalanced by the final pernicious

result.

It is far safer for me and for you that I preach this truth to you boldly

and plainly; and I have a special object in bringing it to your notice

now, at this solemn season when you are reviewing the past, and making a

new consecration of yourselves to the service of Christ.

Here, as you renew your original vow to come out from the world, it is

well that you do this with no vague idea of what you promise. What I shall

now say applies to most if not all of you, but especially to the younger

members of the church. As you enter upon a season of special religious

activity, you also enter upon a season which society is wont to devote

largely to pleasure. Ere another communion season shall have come round,

the season for evening entertainments and festal gatherings, will be at

its height. From the nature of circumstances you will be called upon to

participate in these more or less; and it is at these points that the

temptation to conformity to the world will be most likely to assail you.

Most of you are probably aware of the ground I have recently taken before

the public on the subject of amusements; a position which has excited

considerable comment, and some censure. I do not see why it should. There

is nothing novel in my views on this subject. I have merely stated the

gospel principle, the principle which Christ propounded, and by which he

lived—that the proper and only way to preserve our pleasures or anything

else from abuse, is to put Christian leaven into them. That our duty in

such matters, is not to give them over bodily to the devil and to the

world, to be abused and perverted at their pleasure; but to save them from

such perversion, and make them legitimate instruments of Christian joy and

growth, by using them in the name and under the law of Christ. If these

things are evil, we have no right to have anything to do with them. If

they are, though not evil in themselves, so under the dominion of evil,

and so dependent upon evil for support, as the theatre, for example, is,

that Christian participation cannot separate them from their abuses, we

ought to abandon them. But as to the general principle, that it is abuse

and not proper use which Christ condemns, and that many of the things

which the devil has usurped, are as much yours as his, there can be no

doubt. I have not one word to modify or retract of what I have written on

this subject. Challenged, I would reiterate it word for word, if I knew I

should go from this pulpit to my grave. And I dare any Christian to draw

from what I have written, or from what I have said to-day, license for

improper conformity to the world. If you do so, depend on it, _you_ and

not _I_ will be condemned. And I rejoice especially to-day, in having

assumed this position; because I have never had so good ground from which

to counsel you as to your intercourse with the world of pleasure. If I

were to put this matter to you on the ground of men’s rules and decrees,

if I were to try and show you, by subtle hair-splitting, that this thing

is one degree more capable of abuse than that thing; and that, therefore,

you may use that, and must abandon this, I should expose myself to

merciless logic, and to just ridicule. I leave this ground entirely. I put

myself on God’s word, and say to you this morning, be not conformed to

this world. I say to you as the first, the indispensable requisite for

deciding in what conformity consists, see that your relations to Christ

are properly adjusted. Present yourselves living sacrifices to him. Be

transformed by the renewing of your mind. Submit your will to the will of

God without reserve. Then shall you be able to prove what is his will,

what is good and acceptable and perfect. Then shall your judgment be so

enlightened as to enable you to render a reasoning, a reasonable, a

thoughtful and discriminating service. This is the first thing.

For this I pray for you. For this I am anxious for you, that you be

vitally united to Christ; that you have a living, active faith in him; a

clear witness of your acceptance with him, an ever burning love for him.

If you have these, I know that the details of your lives, whether they

concern your pleasures, or your business, or your studies, will take care

of themselves. But remember this prerequisite. Do not go away saying, “my

pastor says I may lawfully indulge in this or that, and I need give myself

no further trouble about it.” I say to you no such thing. I say that you

want your whole nature renewed by the indwelling of Christ, and that

without this you are not safe in the world one moment. That without this

you are in continual danger of conformity to the world. Without this you

are in no condition to decide in what you may engage, or how far you may

engage in it without abuse. Withal, you _will_ need to trouble yourself

about these matters; to study God’s law; to watch closely your own heart

and life; to avoid needless temptation; to exercise strong resolution when

pleasure beckons you beyond the bounds erected by Christian duty. I bid

you rejoice in your youth. I bid you use those amusements which are

innocent in themselves, freely and with gratitude to God, but to beware of

their abuse. I can safely tell you some things which God’s word will teach

you as to this matter. It will tell you that where you make pleasure the

end and rule of your life, and duty the exception, you are guilty of

abuse. It will tell you that when pleasure saps the fountains of your

health, when it steals away your hours of sleep, and tempts you to

excessive indulgence of appetite at an hour which nature prescribes for

the rest and recuperation of your organs, when it leads you to expose

yourself to sickness by inadequate clothing—it is a gross abuse for which

God will hold you accountable. It will tell you that when any description

of pleasure trenches on the limits of modesty, it is an abuse; that the

public embracing of young men and women in the vile dances of the day, is

an offense against decency, an abomination against which manly nobleness

and maidenly delicacy ought to cry out with all their power. It will tell

you that when pleasure of any kind interferes with your covenant

obligations to the church, and keeps you from the ordinances of God’s

house, it is an abuse; a conformity to the world, against which God warns

you in this text.

Come then and give yourselves to Christ, not repelled by any false,

ascetic views of his religion, but believing, as his word entitles you to

believe, that it is the promoter of innocent joy, of healthy and grateful

recreation, of the highest and purest pleasures. Come, and he shall show

you by his own life how to be in the world, yet not of it. How to live in

strictest conformity to duty, and yet be free indeed, and exhibit to the

world a broad, noble, generous Christian life—a life in the spirit and not

in the letter. He shall teach you to live by the insight of love, and not

by the prescriptions of a bare scheme of duty. Oh, that you may grow to

the stature of perfect men and women in Christ; that you may be living

examples of a reasoning service, models of a piety, enthusiastic yet

judicious; all aglow with the love of Christ carried into every detail of

your lives, into your pleasures, your conversation, your business;

bringing everything, great and small, into conformity with the law of

Christ, and making the whole life move sweetly and harmoniously round him.

You will not then be a worldly church. You will not then be stumbling

blocks to the kingdom of Christ. You will be living epistles, read and

known of all men, and they, seeing your good works, shall glorify your

father which is in Heaven.

Amusement: A Force in Christian Training · 第 7 / 11 题