be able to answer in the affirmative, is this, "_Are we receiving_ the
Holy Ghost since we believed?" "Since we believed," whether we choose to
carry back the date of our first belief to the very time of our baptism,
when grace was given to us,--we know not to what degree nor how,--yet
given to us, as being then received into Christ's flock; or whether we
go back only to that time when we can ourselves remember ourselves to
have believed, and so can remember that God's grace was given to us.
Have we been ever since, and are we still, receiving the Holy Ghost? O
blessed above all blessedness, if we can say that this is true of us! O
blessed with a blessedness most complete, if we only do not too entirely
abandon ourselves to enjoy it! Elect of God; holy and beloved; justified
and sanctified; there is nothing in all the world that could impair or
destroy such happiness, except we ourselves, in evil hour, believed it
to be out of the reach of danger.
But if the witness of memory and conscience be less favourable; if we
can remember long seasons of our lives during which we were not
receiving the Holy Ghost; long seasons of a cold and hard state, in
which there was, as it were, neither rain nor dew, nor yet sun to ripen
what had grown before; but all was so ungenial that no new thing grew;
and what had grown was withering and almost dying; what shall be said,
then, and how can the time be made up which was so wasted? But we
remember, it may be, that this deadly season passed away: the rain fell
once more, and the tender dew, and the quickening sun shone brightly:
our spiritual growth began again, and is now going on healthily; we have
not always been receiving the Holy Ghost since we believed, but we are
receiving him now. How gracious, then, has God been to us, that he has
again renewed us unto repentance; that he has shown that we have not, in
the fullest sense, sinned against the Holy Ghost, seeing that the Holy
Ghost still abides with us! we grieved him, and tried his
long-suffering, but he has not abandoned us to our own evil hearts; we
are receiving him who is the giver of life, and we still live.
But must not we speak of others? is not another case to be supposed
possible? may there not be some who cannot say with truth that they are
receiving the holy Ghost now? They received him once; we doubt it not;
perhaps they were receiving him for some length of time; their early
childhood was watched by Christian care; their youth and early manhood,
when it received freshly things of this world, received also, with
lively thankfulness, the grace of God; they can remember a time when
they were growing in goodness; when they were being renewed after the
image of God. But they can remember, also, that this time passed away;
the grace of early childhood was put out by the temptations of boyhood;
the grace of youth and opening manhood died away amid the hardness of
this life's maturity. It is so, I believe, often; that boyhood, which
is, as it were, ripened childhood, destroys the grace of our earliest
years; that again, when youth offers us a second beginning of life, we
are again impressed with good; but that ripened youth, which is manhood,
brings with it again the reason of hardness, and again our spiritual
growth, is destroyed. We can remember, I am supposing, that this fatal
change did take place; but can we date it to any particular act, or
month, or day, or hour? We can do so most rarely: in this respect the
seed of death can even less be traced to its beginning than the seed of
life. And yet there _was_ a beginning, only we do not remember it. And
why do we not remember it? Because the real beginning was in some act
which seemed of so little consequence that it made no impression; in the
altering some habit which we judged to be a mere trifle; in the
indulging some temper which even at the time we hardly noticed. Some
such little thing,--little in our view of it,--made the fatal turn; we
received the grace of God less and less: we heeded not the change for a
season; and when it was so marked that we could not but heed it, then we
had ceased to regard it; and so it was that the spring of our life was
dried up: and it is of no more avail to our present and future state,
that we once received grace, than the rain of last winter will be
sufficient to ripen the summer's harvest, if from this time forward we
have nothing but drought and cold.
Some few, again, there may be, who, within their own recollection, could
not say that they have received the Holy Ghost: persons who have lived
among careless friends, to whom the way of life has never been steadily
pointed out; while the way of death, with all its manifold paths,
meeting at last in one, has been continually before them. Shall we say
that these, because they have been baptized, are therefore guilty of
having rejected grace given? that this sin is aggravated, because a
mercy was offered them once of which they were unconscious? We would not
say this; but we would say that it is impossible but that they must have
received the Holy Ghost within their memory; it is impossible but that
conscience must have sometimes spoken, and that they must have sometimes
been enabled to obey it; it is impossible but that they must have had
some notions of sin, and some desires to struggle against it; and so far
as they ever felt that desire, it was the work of God's Holy Spirit.
Man cannot dare to say how great the amount of their guilt may be; but
guilt there certainly is; they have grieved the Holy Spirit; and, though
we dare not say that they have utterly blasphemed him, yet they have a
long hardness to overcome, and every hour of delayed turning to God
increases it: it may be possible still to overcome it, but meanwhile it
is not overcome; they are not receiving the Holy Spirit; they are not
being renewed into the likeness of Christ, without which no man can
see God.
Here, then, are the four cases, one of which must belong to every one of
us here assembled. Either we have been always and still are receiving
the Holy Ghost; or we can remember when we were not, but yet are
receiving him now; or we can remember when we were, but yet now are not;
or we cannot remember to have received him ever, nor are we yet
receiving him. I cannot say which of the last two states is the most
dreadful, nor scarcely which of the first two states is the most
blessed. But yet as even those happy states admit not of
over-confidence, so neither do the last two most unhappy states oblige
us to despair. Not to despair; but they do urge us to every degree of
fear less than despair. There is far more danger of our not fearing
enough than of our being driven to despair. There is far more danger of
your looking on the season of youth, of our looking on to old age; you
trusting to the second freshness and tenderness of the first,--we to the
calmness and necessary reflection of the last. There is far more danger
of our thus hardening ourselves beyond recall; there is not only the
danger, but there is the sin, the greatest sin, I suppose, of which the
human mind is capable, that of deliberately choosing evil for the
present rather than good, calculating that, by and by, we shall choose
good rather than evil. I believe, that it is impossible to conceive of
any state of mind more sinful than one which should so feel and so
choose; and this is the state which we incur, and which we persist in
whenever we put off the thought of repentance. Now, then, it only
remains, that we apply this each to ourselves; I say all of us apply it,
the young and the old alike; for there is not one here so young as not
to have cause to apply it; there is not one of us who would not, I am
sure, be a different person from what he now is, if he were to ask
himself steadily every day, Have I been and am I receiving the Holy
Ghost since I believed?
LECTURE XXVII.
* * * * *
TRINITY SUNDAY.
* * * * *
JOHN iii. 9.
_How can these things be_?
This is the second question put by Nicodemus to our Lord with regard to
the truths which Jesus was declaring to him. The first was, "How can a
man be born when he is old?" which was said upon our Lord's telling him
that, "Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God."
Now, it will be observed, that these two questions are treated by our
Lord in a different manner: to the first he, in fact, gives an answer;
that is, he removes by his answer that difficulty in Nicodemus's mind
which led to the question; but to the second he gives no answer, and
leaves Nicodemus--and with Nicodemus, us all also--exactly in the same
ignorance as he found him at the beginning.
Now, is there any difference in the nature of these two questions, which
led our Lord to treat them so differently? We might suppose beforehand
that there would be; and when we come to examine them, so we shall find
it. The difficulty in the first question rendered true faith impossible,
and, therefore, our Lord removed it; the difficulty in the second
question did not properly interfere with faith at all, but might,
through man's fault, be a temptation to him to refuse to believe. And
as this, like other temptations, must be overcome by us, and not taken
away from our path before we encounter it, so our Lord did not think
proper to remove it or to lessen it.
We must now unfold this difference more clearly. When Christ said,
"Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God,"
Nicodemus could not possibly believe what our Lord said, because he did
not understand his meaning. He did not know what he meant by "a man's
being born again," and, therefore, he could not believe, as he did not
know what he was to believe. Words which we do not understand, are like
words spoken in an unknown language; we can neither believe them nor
disbelieve them, because we do not know what they say. For instance, I
repeat these words, [Greek: tous pantas haemas phanerothaenai dei
emprosaen tou baematos tou Christou.] Now, if I were to ask, Do you
believe these words? is it not manifest that all of you who know Greek
enough, to understand them may also believe them; but of those who do
not know Greek, not a single person can yet believe them? They are as
yet words spoken as to the air. But when I add, that these words mean,
"We must all stand before the judgment-seat of Christ;" now we can all
believe them because we can all understand them.
It is, then, perfectly impossible for any man to believe a statement
except in proportion as he understands its meaning. And, therefore, our
Lord explained what he meant to Nicodemus, and told him that, by being
born again, he did not mean the natural birth of the body; but a birth
caused by the Spirit, and therefore itself a birth of a spirit: for, as
that which is born from a body is itself also a body, so that which is
born of a spirit is itself also a spirit. So that Christ's words now are
seen to have this meaning,--No man can enter into the kingdom of God
except God's Spirit creates in him a spirit or mind like unto himself,
and like unto Christ, and like unto the Father. Nicodemus, then, could
now understand what was meant, and might have believed it. But he asks
rather another question, "How can these things be?" How can God's Spirit
create within me a spirit like himself, while I continue a man as
before? Many persons since have asked similar questions; but to none of
them is an answer given. How God's Spirit works within us I cannot tell;
but if we take the appointed means of procuring his aid, we shall surely
find that he has worked and does work in us to life eternal.
We must, then, in order to believe, understand what it is that is told
us; but it is by no means necessary that we should understand how it is
to happen. It is not necessary, and in a thousand instances we do not
know. "If we take poison, we shall die:" there is a statement which we
can understand, and therefore believe. But do we understand how it is
that poison kills us? Does every one here know how poisons act upon the
human frame, and what is the different operation of different
poisons,--how laudanum kills, for instance, and how arsenic? Surely
there are very few of us, at most, who do understand this: and yet would
it not be exceedingly unreasonable to refuse to believe that poison will
kill us, because we do not understand the manner _how_?
Thus far, I think, the question is perfectly plain, so soon as it is
once laid before us. But the real point of perplexity is to be found a
step further. In almost all propositions there is something about the
terms which we do understand, and something which we do not. For
instance, let me say these few words:--"A frigate was lost amidst the
breakers." These words would be understood in a certain degree, by all
who hear me: and so far as all understand them, all can believe them.
All would understand that a ship had sunk in the water, or been dashed
to pieces; that it would be useful no more for the purposes for which it
had been made. But what is meant by the words "frigate" and "breakers"
all would not understand, and many would understand very differently:
that is to say, those who had happened to have known most about the sea
and sea affairs would understand most about them, while those who knew
less would understand less; but probably none of us would understand
their meaning so fully, or would have so distinct and lively an image of
the things, as would be enjoyed by an actual seaman; and even amongst
seamen themselves, there would again be different degrees of
understanding, according to their different degrees of experience, or
knowledge of ships, or powers of mind.
I have taken the instance at random, and any other proposition might
have served my purpose as well. But men do not speak to one another at
random; when they say anything to their neighbour, they mean it to
produce on his mind a certain effect. Suppose that we were living near
the sea-coast, and any one were suddenly to come in, and to utter the
words which I have taken as my example: should we not know that what the
man meant by these words was, that there was a danger at hand for which
our help was needed? It matters not that we have no distinct ideas of
the terms "frigate" or "breakers;" we understand enough for our belief
and practice, and we should hasten to the sea-shore accordingly. Or
suppose that the same words were told us of a frigate in which we had
some near relation: should we not see at once that what we were meant to
understand and to believe in the words was, that we had lost a relation?
That is the truth with which we are concerned; and this we can
understand and feel, although we may be able to understand nothing more
of the words in which that truth is conveyed to us. Now, in like manner,
in whatever God says to us there is a purpose: it is intended to produce
on our minds a certain impression, and so far it must be understood. But
when God speaks to us of heavenly things, the terms employed can only be
understood in part, and so far as God's purpose with regard to our minds
reaches; but there must be a great deal in them which we can no more
understand than one who had never seen a ship, or a picture of one,
could understand the word "frigate." Our business is to consider what
impression or what actions the words are intended to produce in us. Up
to this point we can and must understand them: beyond this they may be
wholly above the reach of our faculties, and we can form of them no
ideas at all.
It is clear that this will be the case most especially whenever God
reveals to us anything concerning himself. Take these few words, for
example, "God is a spirit;" take them as a mere abstract truth, and how
little can we understand about them! Who will dare to say that he
understands all that is contained in the words "God" and "spirit?" We
might weary ourselves for ever in attempting so to search out either.
But God said these words to us: and the point is, What impression did he
mean them to have upon us? how far can we understand them? This he has
not by any means left doubtful, for it follows immediately, "They who
worship him should worship Him in spirit and in truth." For this end the
words were spoken, and thus far they are clear to us. God lives not on
Mount Gerizim or at Jerusalem: but in every place he hears the prayers
of the sincere and contrite heart, in no place will he regard the
offerings of the proud and evil.
Or again, "God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son,
to the end that all who believe in him should not perish, but have
eternal life." Here are words in themselves, as abstract truths,
perfectly overwhelming; "God," "God's only-begotten Son," "Eternity."
Who shall understand these things, when it is said, that "none knoweth
the Son, save the Father; that none knoweth the Father, save the Son?"
But did God tell us the words for nothing? can we understand nothing
from them? believe nothing? feel nothing? Nay, they were spoken that we
might both understand, and believe, and feel. How must He love us, who
gives for us his only-begotten Son! how surely may we believe in Him who
is an only-begotten Son to his Father,--so equal in nature, so entire in
union!--What must that happiness be, which reaches beyond our powers of
counting! Would we go further?--then the veil is drawn before us; other
truths there are, no doubt, contained in the words; truths which the
angels might desire to look into; truths which even they may be unable
to understand. But these are the secret things which belong unto our
God; the things which are revealed they are what belong to us and to our
children, that we may understand, and believe, and do them.
Again, "the Comforter, whom Christ will send unto us from the Father,
even the Spirit of Truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall
testify of Christ." What words are here! "The Spirit of Truth," "the
Spirit proceeding from the Father;" the Spirit "whom Christ will send,"
and "send from the Father." Can any created being understand, to the
full, such "heavenly things" as these? But would Christ have uttered to
his disciples mere unintelligible words, which could tell them nothing,
and excite in them no feeling but mere wonder? Not so; but the words
told them that Christ was not to be lost to them after he had left them
on earth; that every gift of God was his: that even that Spirit of God,
in which is contained all the fulness of the Godhead, is the Spirit of
Christ also; that that mighty power which should work in them so
abundantly, was of no other or lower origin than God himself; as
entirely God, as the spirit of man is man. But can we therefore
understand the Spirit of God, or conceive of him? How should we, when we
cannot understand our own? This, and this only, we understand and
believe, that without him our spirits cannot be quickened; that unless
we pray daily for his aid, and listen to his calls within us, our spirit
will never be created after his image, and we cannot enter into the
kingdom of God.
It is thus, and thus only, that the revelations of God's word are beyond
our understandings: that in them, beings and things are spoken of,
which, taken generally, and in themselves, we should in vain endeavour
to comprehend. But what God means us to know, or feel, or do, respecting
them, that we can understand; and beyond this we have no concern. It is,
in fact, a contradiction to speak of revealing what is unintelligible;
for so far as it is a revealed truth it is intelligible; so far as it is
unintelligible, it is not revealed. But though a thing revealed must be
intelligible in itself, yet it by no means follows that we can
understand _how_ it happens. When we are told that the dead shall rise
again, we can understand quite well what is meant; that we beings who
feel happiness and misery, shall feel them again, either the one or the
other, after we seemingly have done with them for ever in the grave. But
"How are the dead raised up, and with what body do they come?" are
questions to which, whether asked scoffingly or sincerely, we can give
no answers; here our understanding fails, and here the truth is not
revealed to us.
How, then, has Christianity no mysteries? In one sense, blessed be God
for it, it has many. Using mysteries in St. Paul's sense of great
revelations of things which were and must be unknown to all, except God
had revealed them: then, indeed, they are many; the pillar and ground of
truth, great without controversy, and full of salvation. But take
mysteries in our more common sense of the word,--as things which are
revealed to none, and can be understood by none,--then it is true that
Christianity leaves many such in existence; that many such she has done
away; that none has she created. She leaves many mysteries with respect
to God, and with respect to ourselves; God is still incomprehensible;
life and death have many things in them beyond our questioning; we may
still look around us, above us, and within us, and wonder, and be
ignorant. But if she still leaves the veil drawn over much in heaven and
in earth, yet from how much has she removed it! Life and death are still
in many respects dark; but she has brought to light immortality. God is
still in himself incomprehensible; but all his glory, and all his
perfections, are revealed to us in his only-begotten Son Christ Jesus.
God's Spirit who can search out in his own proper essence? yet
Christianity has taught us how we may have him to dwell with us for
ever, and taste the fulness of his blessings. Yea, thanks be to God for
the great Christian mystery which we this day celebrate; that he has
revealed himself to us as our Saviour and our Comforter; that he has
revealed to us his infinite love, in that he has given us his
only-begotten Son to die for us, and his own Eternal Spirit to make our
hearts his temple.
LECTURE XXVIII.
* * * * *
EXODUS iii. 6.
_And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look upon God_.
LUKE xxiii. 30.
_Then shall they begin to say to the mountains. Fall on us; and to the
hills, Cover us_.
These two passages occur, the one in the first lesson of this morning's
service, the other in the second. One or other of them must have been,
or must be, the case of you, of me, of every soul of man that lives or
has lived since the world began. There must be a time in the existence
of every human being when he will fear God. But the great, the infinite
difference is, whether we fear him at the beginning of our relations to
him, or at the end.
The fear of Moses was felt at the beginning of his knowledge of God.
When God revealed himself to him at the bush, it was, so far as we are
told, the first time that Moses learnt to know him. The fear of those
who say to the mountains, "Fall on us," is felt at the very end of their
knowledge of God; for to those who are punished with everlasting
destruction from the presence of the Lord, God is not. So that the two
cases in the text are exact instances of the difference of which I
spoke, in the most extreme degree. Moses, the greatest of the prophets,
fears God at first; those who are cast into hell, fear him at last.
The appearance of God, as described in this passage of Scripture, is an
image also of his dealings with us at the beginning of our course, when
we fear him with a saving fear. "The bush burned with fire, but the bush
was not consumed." God shows his terrors, but he does not, as yet,
destroy with them. It is the very opposite to this at last, for then he
is expressly said to be a consuming fire.
Moses turned aside to see this great sight, why the bush was not burnt.
That sight is the very same which the world has been offering for so
many hundreds of years: God's terrors are around it, but, as yet, it is
not consumed, because he wills that we should fear him before it is
too late.
There is, indeed, this great difference;--that the signs of God's
presence do not now force themselves upon our eyes; so that we may, if
we choose, walk on our own way, without turning aside to see and observe
them. And thus we do not see God, and do not, therefore, hide our faces
for fear of him, but go on, and feel no fear, till the time when we
cannot help seeing him. And it may be, that this time will never come
till our life, and with it our space of trial, is gone for ever.
Here, then, is our state, that God will manifest himself no more to us
in such a way as that we cannot help seeing him. The burning bush will
be no more given us as a sign; Christ will no more manifest himself unto
the world. And yet, unless we do see him, unless we learn to fear him
while he is yet an unconsuming fire, unless we know that he is near, and
that the place whereon we stand is holy ground, we shall most certainly
see him when he will be a consuming fire, and when we shall join in
crying to the mountains, to fall on us, and to the hills, to cover us.