carefully and in order. It was impossible not to pause earnestly upon
the opening sentence, '_In the beginning was the Word, and the Word
was with God, and the Word was God_.' What does that text say to us?
'It declares,' some will answer eagerly and decisively, 'the divinity
of our Lord Jesus Christ.' Be it so; but the name _Jesus Christ_ is
not introduced till the seventeenth verse of the chapter. If we are
sitting at the feet of an Apostle or Evangelist, we cannot change his
method for a method of our own. The writers of the other Gospels start
from the birth of Jesus, or from the preaching of John the Baptist. We
cannot understand them unless we go with them to Bethlehem or to the
wilderness. St. John leads us back to the beginning of all things. We
cannot understand him, if we assume events that were to take place in
the fulness of the time.
Acting upon this principle, I reminded you that the expression 'word
of God' is one of continual recurrence as well as of most solemn
import in the books of the Old Testament. I could not find that, in
its lowest sense, it ever meant less than a message from the invisible
God to the mind and spirit of man. The assertion that God speaks to
men by His word, and that men are capable of hearing that word, was
the great testimony for the truth which was implied in heathen
superstitions, the great testimony against these superstitions.
Idolaters were not mistaken in thinking that they needed intercourse
with that which was higher than themselves; they _were_ mistaken in
seeking, in the heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the water
under the earth, for Him who was nearer to them than He was to all the
things He had made, who was the Lord of their hearts and reins. The
more you study the Law, the Psalms, and the Prophets, the more you
meditate the earliest and simplest book of the Bible--that which tells
of the Voice which spoke to Adam in the garden, of the Voice which
called Abram to go forth whither he knew not--the more, I am
persuaded, you will feel that this is the most characteristic
peculiarity of these records, that which connects them with each
other, that which has given them their power over mankind.
Nevertheless, the life of the men who were said to receive these
communications was eminently practical and manly. They did not pore
over their own thoughts; they went forth and did the work which was
given them to do, feeding flocks, bringing up children, fighting
enemies. It is evident that their belief in the invisible did not in
the least interfere with their business in this visible world. That
they were to till and subdue by the same charter which assured them
that they were God's servants, and that His word was directing them.
While they kept their faith in the unseen Teacher, the firmament over
their heads became a clear daily and nightly witness respecting Him
and themselves. The stars told them what their seed should be; the
sun, going forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber, carried the
message of _their_ God into all lands. It was when the faith in the
invisible grew weak, that they bowed their heads and worshipped the
forms which once testified to them of their greater nobleness and
sublimer origin. And with this came another idolatry, in its essence
grander, in its results baser. The man felt that beings of his own
kind had more power over him than all the hosts of heaven. He did
homage to their goodness, their wisdom, their beneficence, their
strength. He confessed the king, and was raised to a higher sense of
his own freedom and kingship. The king became a giant and a tyrant;
_he_ became a dwarf and a slave. What should raise men out of either
oppression? What should set them free from the yoke which creatures
below their own kind and of their own kind had imposed upon them? The
Jew was taught that the Lord God was his King; that He broke the yoke
of the Pharaoh and of the Pharaoh's gods; that He claimed the most
abject slaves as His servants. The Israelite was brought under an
order which had this foundation. In the strength of it, kings were to
reign and decree judgment; they were to preserve the people from
lapsing into the idolatry which would destroy their obedience and
their freedom. They were to reign by the word of the Lord.
But what was this word of God which held men back who had fierce
inclinations in their hearts, and who had swords to execute them in
their hands? It could not be a statute; that had no such power. It
could not be a set of moral maxims; they had no such power. It could
not be a promise, or a threat, about the world that is, or the world
to come; neither had such power. The Prophet, living amidst the signs
of decay and ruin in his own polity, amidst the earthquakes which were
shaking all nations, under the overwhelming power of empires that
sought to put out the life of nations, began to attach another and
deeper sense to the word of God, not incompatible with the older use,
but involved in it; not a metaphor or allegory deduced from it, but a
higher truth lying behind it. The Word of God came to him, spoke to
him in the very depths of his heart. He spoke to it, sympathised with
it. But dared he say _it_ any longer? No; in some wonderful manner
this Word must be a Friend, a Person; One who could work with him,
reprove him, illuminate him. This Word must be the Teacher, the
Friend, the King of Israel. This Word must one day prove Himself to be
the Lord of the whole earth. Awful discovery! which makes him tremble,
and yet which makes him bold; which sometimes draws forth from him the
cry, '_Woe is me! for I am an unclean man, and I dwell among a people
of unclean lips; for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of
Hosts_;' which again gives him all his hope both for himself and for
his people. At every step of his own experience and of his nation's
experience, new visions unfolded themselves out of this vision. It
must be that all those various objects in nature which men were
worshipping, that all the living order of nature in which those things
were comprehended, proceeded from this living Word. It must be that
all the races of men, all their politics, were under His guidance and
government. It must be that all the light that had entered into any
man's heart had come from Him. It must be that the darkness which was
in any man's heart had come from rebellion against Him.
In various ways and in different measures this truth was unveiling
itself to the Prophets of old: I have had other opportunities of
pointing out to you the steps of its manifestation. When I quoted the
first fourteen verses of St. John's Gospel, at the close of my last
sermon, I wished to show you that he had gathered up into one distinct
statement, one full revelation, that which it had taken ages to spell
out. I wished you to feel that there was, in one sense, no novelty in
his proclamation, because he was saying that which was implied in all
the past history and literature of his people; yet that there was, in
another sense, the most important novelty, because that which had been
implied could now for the first time be expressed. I hinted to you
that in this case, as in every case, the expression did not come, till
all the doubts which called for the expression had been awakened, and
had become clamorous. In fact, these doubts were leading Jews,
heathens, disciples of Jesus, very near indeed to the gulf of atheism.
Was there an absolute Being dwelling in His own perfection? Was there
a Word who uttered His mind? How was this duality compatible with the
unity of the divine nature? Here was the first grand difficulty, one
which did not more exercise the Jew, who had lived to proclaim that
unity as the primary truth of the universe, than the Gentile
philosopher who had arrived at it as a final result, as an escape from
the polytheism which the vulgar must still be left to believe in. St.
John uses no such phrases as unity or duality. We have the broad, old,
simple Hebrew language, the language for human beings, not for
speculators. We hear of a living God, not of a notion. And this God
is, as the old record had said, a Creator. Men had been asking in all
countries how is the world related to God? Did He make it as an
artificer makes a dead instrument? Did it flow from Him as a thought
flows from the meditative man? Or is it self-made? Is God Himself a
part of it, merely the spring of its movements? St. John answers,
'_The world was made by Him, and without Him was not any thing made
that was made. In Him was life._' It was no dead instrument turned
forth by a mechanist. It was no part of Himself. It was no order
moving by itself without Him. It was a world of living, productive
forces, governed by a Person. His own life was quickening the
movements of His creatures; His own wisdom was directing them. The
philosophical puzzle is met by words which, I think, you will find are
adapted to the physical science of the nineteenth century, as much as
they were to the theological doubts of the first century; which show
where theology and physical science meet, how they are distinguished,
how they are reconciled. And yet the language is still the child's
language, the fisherman's language. It is Moses, not Plato, who is
revived in the Ephesian teacher.
Then come verses which meet the troubles of the heart and conscience
of man, as those meet the troubles of his intellect,--which speak to
him of himself, as those speak of the world. How simple they are! How
entirely they accord with what I have been showing you were the
thoughts of old Patriarchs and Prophets! And yet what worlds of
speculation they encounter! what theories about the conscience they
come in contact with! what webs of mythology they unravel! Above all,
how they explain the thoughts of those who cannot reason, and yet are
subject to those laws about which all reasoning is conversant! '_In
Him was life, and the life was the light of men: and the light shineth
in darkness, and the darkness does not take it down into itself._'
What have not those words been to men, who have been for years trying
to reconcile the contradictory phenomena of their own spirits! 'Word
of God, thy light has been shining in me, flashing into my heart,
discovering the dark places and passages there! The darkness tries to
comprehend, to hide, to quench thy light! Thanks be to Thee, it
cannot.'
The transition appears great from this sentence--so general, yet so
individual,--concerning the beginning of the world and the latest days
of it--to the words, '_There was a man sent from God, whose name was
John_.' No doubt we are reminded by the change that the writer
belonged to a particular age--to an age in which there were many
disciples of John the Baptist still alive, who were inclined to claim
for him the very highest honour that could belong to a divine
messenger.[2] The Apostle was especially likely to know what followers
of the Baptist would say and feel respecting him, since he had
probably been one of them. But he does not forget the subject with
which he was occupied before, when he turns to his old master and to
those who were paying him an extravagant homage. He introduces John
that he may declare what every man sent from God in the former times
had done,--what every such man in that time, in all time to come, must
do: '_The same came for a witness, that he might bear witness of the
Light, that all men through him might believe_.' 'You who listened to
John, if there are any of you yet on earth, what was the effect of
his speech, his look, his baptism upon you? I will tell you what it
was upon me. As he said "_Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at
hand_," my darkness was revealed to me. That darkness was discovered
by the divine light of which he spoke. He came to bear witness of this
light, that you and I might believe in it.' Here was one mighty,
unspeakable cause of gratitude to him. But, '_He was not that Light,
but was sent that he might witness of the Light_.' So was it with John
preaching by the side of Jordan. Was the saying less true of Jeremiah
preaching beside the temple that was to be desolate, of Ezekiel
preaching by the river Chebar? Was it less true of St. Peter on the
day of Pentecost, of St. Paul at Antioch? Was it less true of Bernard,
of Francis of Assisi, of Luther, of any man who in later days has
awakened men out of a slumber of death? What can be said of each
except this: '_The same came for a witness, to bear witness of the
Light_'? What would each have said of himself but this: '_I am not
that Light, but am come that I may bear witness of that Light_'?
[2] There could be few, if any, such left in the century to which the
Gospel is assigned by those who deny it to St. John.
The Apostle says this; but he has something greater and deeper to say.
He says, '_That was the true Light which lighteth every man that
cometh into the world_.' 'We may have felt, when we heard the preacher
in the wilderness, as if there were some new light shining then for
the first time into our hearts. We may have supposed it was kindled by
the speaker. But no star arose in the firmament at his bidding; that
which struck us with such wonder had been with us from our birth. When
any man comes into this order of ours, he finds the Word there.' '_He
was in the world, and the world was made by Him and the world knew Him
not._' Think of all the strange dreams of immortality that have
visited human beings; their sense of a law of right and wrong; their
acknowledgment of powers which assert the right and avenge the wrong!
Think how these great facts of humanity have affected the condition of
men in every region of the world,--how politics, legislation, civil
society, have been shaped by them! Think of the confusions respecting
immortality, respecting the boundaries of right and wrong, respecting
the justice and injustice of the invisible kings and judges whose
power has been confessed and feared! Think of the superstitions,
oppressions, slaveries, that have grown out of these confusions! And
then read once again this sentence, '_He was in the world_'--He from
whom light came--'_and the world was made by Him, and the world knew
Him not_.' See if you have not there the clear, scientific explanation
of these strange facts; the universal law which tells you how they
could exist together. See if that scientific explanation, that
universal law, is not brought to an experimental test; so that every
man, every child may know, from that which has passed in himself, what
it means. '_He came unto His own, and His own received Him not._' The
light came into men's hearts, as into its proper native
dwelling-place. The Word from whom that light issued asserted His
right over all the feelings, instincts, impulses, determinations of
these hearts, as over His own rightful domestics and subjects. But the
light was repelled; the rightful Ruler was treated as an intruder by
these domestics and subjects. There was anarchy and rebellion, where
there should have been subordination and harmony. A usurper had
reduced those into slavery who would not have the service which is
freedom. '_But as many as received Him, to them gave He power to_
_become sons of God; which were born, not of flesh, nor of blood, nor
of the will of man, but of God._' The last words seemed to speak of an
order subverted, of a creation which had lost its centre. These
declare that the order was preserved; that the centre still proved its
power to attract, and to retain in their orbits, the bodies which were
intended to move around it. There were those that confessed the Light;
there were those that entertained it, that sought to walk in it. There
were those who submitted themselves to the government of their true
Ruler. And they attained the stature of men; they learnt themselves,
they manifested to others whence they had come, what was their
parentage. '_To them gave He power to become sons of God._' They were
sons of men, born to the same condition as others of their kind; but
He made them know that in their inmost being they were not born of
earthly or human seed, but had their life from above, from Him who
liveth and abideth for ever.
Up to this point, I conceive, the Evangelist has not even touched upon
any principle or fact specially belonging to the Christian theology,
to the new dispensation. He has been unfolding the principle of the
old. He has been discoursing of that law and government under which
all had lived, whether they were prophets or people, whether they were
true prophets or false, whether they were Gentiles or Jews. He has
claimed the high prerogative of a Jew, the prerogative of interpreting
the condition of mankind; of declaring in what relation those stood to
God who had been ignorant of their relation, or who had seen it dimly,
or had denied it. Even when he speaks of John, it is as the Prophet of
the old world; as winding up the witness which previous Prophets had
borne to the Word, from which all the light that was in them had
streamed out. He says nothing yet of any future Teacher to whom John
pointed. And, as we shall see hereafter, when he does come, in due
order, to the part of John's teaching in which he spoke of One whose
shoe's latchet he was not worthy to unloose, it is that he may quote
the memorable language, '_He that cometh after me is preferred before
me; for He was before me. And of His fulness have all we received, and
grace answering to grace._' You cannot hear that fragment of a divine
discourse without perceiving that the object of the Evangelist is to
carry us into the past before he speaks of the future; that he regards
the especial grandeur of the new time as this, that it reveals that
which had been of old, that which had been from the beginning. But it
was absolutely necessary to the coherency and continuity of the
Apostle's statement that he should not introduce these words of the
Baptist--wonderfully as they illustrate the account of his mission
which had been given previously--till he had first made that
announcement which is contained in the text: '_And the Word was made
flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld His glory, the glory as of
the only-begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth_.'
This, my brethren, I regard not as the text of my sermon, but of St.
John's Gospel. I conceive that Gospel is nothing more nor less than
the setting forth how Jesus Christ proved Himself in human flesh to be
that Word of God in whom was life, and whose life was the light of
men, who had been in the world, and by whom the world was made, and
whom the world knew not; how in that flesh He manifested forth the
glory as of the only-begotten of the Father; how He manifested the
fulness of grace and truth. It is because the theology of St. John
comes forth in these human facts that I affirmed it to be a theology
not merely different from the systematic school theology, but the
great deliverance from it. I should, therefore, be departing from my
object and belying my professions, if instead of waiting for the
gradual discovery of the meaning of these words in St. John's story, I
began with thrusting my own meaning into them. All I ought to do,--and
this I must do, for the very purpose of showing you how strict and
beautiful the Apostle's method is, and how much wrong we do to
ourselves and him when we forsake it,--is to point out, very shortly,
the connexion which I trace between this verse and the one that
immediately precedes it.
The Evangelist had said of those who received the Word, '_to them,
gave He power to become the sons of God_.' A new expression--to a
certain extent, a new thought--is brought before us here. We had heard
of the Word as One in whom is life; we had heard that His life was the
light of men. All the language concerning Him had been such as
applies--not to an abstraction, not to an essence, but--to a Person.
But now it is said that those who accept His government, who are
penetrated by His light, acquire a _power_ which they had not before.
They discover a _relation_ which had been hidden from them. It was the
greatest of all their earthly blessings that they had fathers
according to the flesh. A higher blessing is conferred upon them now;
they can act as if they had a heavenly Father. _As if_ they had a
heavenly Father! But are they never to know certainly whether they
have or not? Is the power of becoming sons not to be associated with
the clear consciousness that this is their proper and original state?
'_The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us._' He became a man among
men. We beheld Him, and we know that He was--what He told us that He
was--not an independent Being, but a Son. He was not merely a Light of
lights. We are sure that He was the ground of all human sonship; that
He was the only-begotten of a Father. That higher, more blessed, more
perfect name thenceforth mingled itself with all our thoughts of that
God whom no man hath seen or can see; it turned our thoughts into
trust and worship. The Absolute Truth and Goodness shone forth through
Him. The only-Begotten revealed Him who had been from the beginning.
He opened a new dispensation, because He made us know that God who had
been speaking to us in the old.
DISCOURSE III.
THE TEACHING OF JOHN THE BAPTIST.
[Lincoln's Inn, 2d Sunday in Lent, February 17, 1856.]
ST. JOHN I. 29.
_The next day John seeth Jesus coming unto him, and saith, Behold the
Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world._
John the Baptist is represented throughout this chapter as speaking of
One who had been before him, though He was coming after him. This is
the burden of his discourse. It has been asked by the bold critics of
another country, whether such language does not presume a belief in
the preexistence of our Lord, which might belong to one of his
apostles, but could scarcely belong to his forerunner. English divines
ordinarily reply, that the question is one which cannot be
entertained. 'How can we dispute the right of the Divine Wisdom to
make a special revelation of this doctrine to one person or to
another?'
This may be the right method of treating such an objection; but if the
remarks which I made in my two last sermons were true, we are not
under any necessity of resorting to it. I endeavoured to show you that
the principle which St. John asserts in the opening verses of his
Gospel, was far from being characteristically a doctrine of the New
Testament. It belongs to the Old. It is involved in the words, acts,
lives of the Jewish Prophets. It could not indeed be enunciated by
them as it is enunciated by the beloved disciple. There is a largeness
in it which could not be fully realized till the barrier between Jews
and Gentiles had been broken down. Still it was as a Jew--as an
interpreter of the Jewish records--that the writer of the fourth
Gospel spoke of the Word of God. He was not using new language, which
would have startled his hearers. He was expressing, in simple and
familiar language, what others of his countrymen had hidden from the
vulgar under learned phrases and dark conceits. Why is it difficult to
believe that, in doing so, he was recording some of the lessons which
he had first received from the preacher in the wilderness? Was it
strange that he, the last of the Prophets, should utter in more
distinct terms that which all the Prophets before him had been
imperfectly uttering? External evidence would be in favour of such a
supposition. The Baptist was a contemporary of teachers who
notoriously spoke of the light in men's hearts and of the Word from
whom it issued. Many of _his_ disciples became, we know, afterwards
blended with _their_ disciples. There was, however, one all-important
distinction between him and them. He spoke to the hearts of the
multitude,--to the publicans and the soldiers; they spoke to students.
He appealed to those who were conscious of folly and sin; they spoke
of the illumination which was granted to the righteous and the wise.
And that is just the difference which we have recognised between the
statements of the Apostle, the disciple of the Baptist, and those
Alexandrian teachers whom some suppose him to have imitated. It is not
only that his style is simple and childlike. Throughout he speaks of
the light as making men aware of the _darkness_ that is in them.
Throughout he speaks of the light as lightening _all_ men.