But,--as the last words of the passage I have quoted remind us,--no

power of man can awaken in us that faith, however greatly we may want

it, which thus ascends to Christ, and dwells with Him where He is. It

must be given us of the Father. That mighty drawing, which has been

spoken of so often in this chapter, must lift individuals, must lift

nations, out of the death of notions and opinions, into the life and

freedom which the Son of Man came to bring them. Is that a reason for

despondency, brethren? Is it not a reason for all hope? If we had

nothing better to look for, than that the disciples of Christ, of one

Church or another, should discover the meaning of His words, the power

of His life, the last verses of this chapter would cause us the

deepest despondency. '_From that time many of His disciples went back,

and walked no more with Him. Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye

also go away? Then Simon Peter answered Him, Lord, to whom shall we

go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we believe and are sure

that Thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God. Jesus answered

them, Have not I chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil? He

spake of Judas Iscariot the son of Simon: for he it was that should

betray Him, being one of the twelve._'

Those sentences which declared what is the very life of the Church,

drove back the first disciples from Christ. They could believe in a

prophet,--they could believe in any notions or doctrines; they could

not believe in a Divine Word who would give His flesh for the life of

the world. There is a sadness, a human sadness, in our Lord's question

to His own apostles, which proves that even they might have been

staggered by the thought that they must eat His flesh and drink His

blood, and that even they might desert Him. And though Peter's answer

was a noble one, because it showed that he would cling to his Master,

in spite of all ignorance and confusion,--because it showed that he

trusted in Him as a Person, and that he was sure there was eternal

life in Him, however little he might understand the way in which that

life was to be received,--yet the allusion to Judas, at the close of

all, has in it a depth of sorrow and of meaning which no one can

fathom. It is quite evident, I think, that the sin of Judas is in some

way connected by our Lord with unbelief in that lesson which He had

been teaching in the synagogue of Capernaum. But how could that

unbelief convert him into a devil? I answer with trembling. Judas is

represented elsewhere as a covetous man. In following Christ, he was

seeking not Christ but himself. He could believe in One who would give

_him_ a place in the Church below or the Church above. He could not

believe in a Son of Man who came to give life to the _world_. But a

person who has lived with Christ, and been a minister and an apostle

of Christ, and yet sinks into a separate selfish existence, answers to

the Scripture definition and idea of a devil.

If the early disciples deserted Christ,--if His own apostle betrayed

Him--because He said that He would in very deed prove Himself to be

the Son of Man, by pouring out His blood for men, and by feeding the

spirit of man, why may not His latest disciples forsake Him; why may

not His priests now betray Him because they, too, desire a Christ for

themselves, and not for the universe? But if our trust is not in them,

but in the living Father, we shall see all things working together for

the manifestation of the Son in this His true and proper

character,--for the discovery of Him to all nations as the source of

their highest life. The war which we have just passed through has

brought us, the most exclusive of nations, into strange proximity with

nations with which we have had no previous sympathy. We have fought

side by side with one which was called for ages our natural enemy; we

have fought for one who has been regarded as the enemy of Christendom.

The alliance will have done us harm, if it has made us value our

position as Englishmen less,--if it has made us understand less the

position which our fathers in the seventeenth century occupied, when

they struggled against Louis XIV. for Protestantism and for national

life. It will have done us good, if it has made us feel that our

fathers were fighting against a tyranny which was hostile to

Protestantism and nationality because it was hostile to

humanity,--that there is a Son of Man who is Lord of Frenchmen as

well as Englishmen, whom both in their creeds confess, whom both in

their acts are continually denying, for whom each is disposed to set

up some other Lord. Our struggle in behalf of Turkey will have done us

harm, if it has led us to think less than our fathers did of that

which divides the Crescent from the Cross,--the symbol of mere power,

and the symbol of strength perfected in weakness. It will have done us

good, if it has taught us that we are bound to resist injustice and

wrong as much when it is done to Mahometans as Christians,--if it

leads us to remember that the Son of Man gave His flesh for the life

of the world,--for Mahometans, therefore, as well as for Christians.

A phrase has gone forth, and has become almost proverbial among us,

which was spoken by one who was our enemy--spoken, we thought, with no

honest intention, but one which has been recognised as containing a

reasonable prophecy. It concerned the sickness and coming death of

that empire for which we have been fighting. If sickness has

overtaken, if death is to overtake, that once vigorous kingdom, this,

I believe, is the explanation:--It bore at one time a strong and

terrible witness for a living God, a Ruler of men, a Destroyer of

idols;--God endued it with strength to bear that witness. It bore no

witness for a Son of God and a Son of Man. It put humanity at a

hopeless distance from God. Therefore seeds of weakness were latent in

it when it was mightiest. They were certain to develop themselves in

it more and more. They were certain at last to make its belief in God

ineffectual, because it denied Him to be a Father. To adopt the modes

of European civilization--to tolerate enemies of the prophet--may

delay or may hasten the dissolution which has been foretold Certainly

there is not in any of these things a power to restore life. Would the

acceptance of Christianity restore it? If Christianity is taken up

just as these changes have been taken up, as part of a new system--as

the condition of admission into fellowship with more powerful states,

I can conceive nothing so worthless, so detestable. The old Mahometan

fanaticism is worthy of reverence; for it was real and honest. _This_

profession of Christ would be a pretence and a mockery. The faith in

Jesus which the Moslem does cherish is better than this;--he does

confess Him as a great, though an inferior, Prophet. This would be to

degrade Him into the head of a rival sect, which it is convenient for

state purposes to make supreme.

But how can we teach them to regard Jesus in any other light than

this? The first step to such a consummation is, to see that we do not

degrade Him to this level ourselves. Let our Christianity be something

more than a surface thing--more than an exclusive thing--more than a

particular form of opinion; then those that are without our circle may

feel its power, because then it will be a power. We need not, as some

fancy, reduce the Gospel into a set of moral maxims, that we may meet

the believers in the Koran on a common ground. By taking that course,

we enter into a foolish competition with the Koran; we do set up our

religion against the Mahometan religion, and so insult the prejudices

of those who profess it. We need not bring proofs that Mahomet was an

impostor, or that Jesus was the Messiah. But starting from that which

is the strong and vital truth of Mahometanism--proclaiming mightily an

unseen God and a living God--we may go on to declare that which is the

specially Christian truth,--that this God is united to His creatures

in a Son; that this Son has taken man's flesh, and has given His

flesh for the life of the world. The deepest mystery of our faith is

the most universal; when we are most Christian, we are most human.

Only we must not stop short at the Incarnation; we must go on to the

Ascension;--so we do justice to the Mahometan demand that we should

not exalt manhood above Godhead; so we escape the danger which

Mahometans too justly imputed to Christians, that they turned the

flesh of Christ into an object of idolatry;--when Christ Himself said,

'_It is the spirit which quickeneth_.'

There is a design of establishing an English Church at Constantinople.

If it is accomplished, God grant that the Gospel which is preached

there may be the same which has been preached already by English lips

and English hands in the hospital at Scutari! God grant that we may

not seek there or here to set up an English religion,--for that cannot

be the religion of Jesus Christ; that must be a denial of the Son of

Man! If we fulfil the obligations which our Church lays upon us, we

shall tell all men that there is a life for them in Him who died for

all. We shall show the Turks that we hold the Second Commandment as

sacred as Mahomet held it; that we are Islamites, confessing the will

of God to be the only foundation of all the acts and energies of man.

We shall show the Greeks that we regard the Son of Man as the one

universal Bishop of His Church. We shall show the Latins that we are

members of a one Holy Catholic Church, to which all nations belong,

and which, by its unity, is to testify of the Unity of the Father and

the Son in one blessed Spirit. And so we shall vindicate our own

position as Englishmen; so the Church which we build on a foreign

shore will prove that the countrymen whose bones lie on that shore

have not died in vain. They will have fallen in war that there might

be the sacrament of a true and eternal peace between the nations. And

whensoever the bread is eaten and the wine is drunk which testifies

that the Son of Man has given His body and His blood for the life of

man, their thanksgivings will be joined with those of the Church

militant, for the sacrifice and oblation that was once made for

all,--their prayers will rise with those of their brethren to the

Father of spirits--through Him who has ascended on high, leading

captivity captive--that all tyranny, and oppressions, and wars, may

cease for ever upon that earth which He has redeemed.

DISCOURSE XV.

THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES.

[Lincoln's Inn, Whit-Sunday, May 11, 1856.]

ST. JOHN VII. 37-39.

_In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood

and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come unto me

and drink. He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath

said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.

(But this spake he of the Spirit, which they that believe on

him should receive: for the Holy Ghost was not yet given;

because that Jesus was not yet glorified.)_

If the words in the last chapter--'_the Passover, a feast of the Jews,

was at hand_'--are genuine, it would seem as if Jesus did not go up to

that feast, or to the Pentecost which must have followed it. At all

events, nothing is recorded of any visits to Jerusalem; and the

inference from the opening of this chapter clearly is, that '_He did

not walk in Jewry_' from the time that the Jews had sought to kill Him

at the feast spoken of in the fifth chapter.

I did not think it was necessary to make guesses respecting the name

of that feast. What _this_ was the Apostle has told us. I have no

doubt that he wished us to remember why it was instituted; what it

should have meant to them who were celebrating it; what it did mean to

Him whom they had sought to kill, because He had said, '_God was His

Father_.' It said to the Jews who were living then,--'Your fathers

dwelt in tabernacles in the wilderness; they had no houses which they

could transmit to their children, as you have. But the unseen God went

in a tabernacle before them. That was the secret of their strength;

that bound them together as a nation, before they had conquered a

single walled town of Canaan. Your houses are as little stable as

theirs were. If _your_ national strength and union consist in your

walled cities, the Romans in a year may lay them all waste. But the

living God dwells with you as He did with your fathers. The Romans

cannot take that Presence from you. _You_ may forget it; _you_ may

disbelieve in it: then the tabernacle of God will not cease to be with

men,--but it will cease to be with _you_; _you_ will not be His

stewards or witnesses any longer.'

Even we can feel that there was this significance in the festival;

events which, we know, were soon to happen, reveal it to us, if the

Law and the Prophets do not. How much more than we can divine or dream

of must He have seen in it! But the persons who were about them, His

own kinsfolk, had no such thoughts. To them the feast was an unusual

gathering of men together,--the occasion which one who professed to be

a prophet or leader of the people should take for showing Himself to

them. '_Now the Jews' feast of tabernacles was at hand. His brethren

therefore said unto Him, Depart hence, and go into Judæa, that thy

disciples also may see the works that thou doest._'

Looking at this advice from the point of view which we commonly take,

we should speak of it as most sensible. We suppose that Christ wrought

His signs to convince the unbelieving Jews of His mission; what more

strange than that He should not take pains to display them? Looking

at the advice from his point of view, St. John says, '_For neither did

His brethren believe in Him_.' They expected Him to make a startling

exhibition of His power to the eye. They did not _believe_ in

Him,--for faith rests upon that which is not seen; it confesses an

inward, vital power.

The words, '_show thyself to the world_,' were doubtless used by these

brethren of Christ in a very broad, vulgar sense. Jerusalem was the

great world to them; there all Jews met; there were the learned men

who decided what others were to think and believe; there were the

rulers of the people. But they had used the right word. A Mantuan,

speaking of great Rome, and wondering what he should do there, would

not have been more correct in calling _that_ the world, than these

Galilæans were in giving the name to the city of David. The Italian

metropolis might, in one sense, be the centre of the world's

government and the world's wickedness; the Cæsar might be the world's

god. But a society which was organized on the confession of a living

and true God--which had retained its organization, and believed in

_that_ instead of in Him--is more exactly the world, in the sense in

which the world is opposed to God, than the Roman society, or any

other existing at that time, could possibly be. Jesus, therefore,

adopts the expression of His kinsmen in answering them. '_Then Jesus

said unto them, My time is not yet come: but your time is alway ready.

The world cannot hate you; but me it hateth, because I testify of it,

that the works thereof are evil. Go ye up unto this feast: I go not up

yet unto this feast; for my time is not yet full come. When He had

said these words unto them, He abode still in Galilee._'

There is a greater sense of loneliness and oppression in this

language, than in any which we have met with thus far,--the loneliness

which comes from being altogether misunderstood; the oppression which

comes from a work to be fulfilled, which those whom it was meant to

bless would abhor. The Son of Man feels all the difference between

those '_whose time was alway ready_,'--who could go up to the feasts

whenever it pleased them, merely with the expectation of meeting

friends, and mixing in a crowd,--and Him who had the straitening

consciousness of a message which He must bear, of a baptism which He

must be baptized with. And the Son of God feels that He is to bear

witness of a Father to a world which was created by Him, and did not

know Him--which longed to rid itself of the sense of His

Presence--which conceived of Him as a tyrant and an enemy. The world

cannot hate those who fancy that the business of a divine Prophet is

to persuade it to admire him and follow him. The world must hate those

who tell it that the Creator of all good and truth is close to

it,--that it has no good apart from that Creator,--that its works will

always be evil while it is not owning Him. The world must hate Him in

whom the glory of the central and eternal Good and Truth shone forth

as in an '_only-begotten Son, full of grace and truth_.'

'_But when His brethren were gone up, then went He also up unto the

feast, not openly, but as it were in secret. Then the Jews sought Him

at the feast, and said, Where is He? And there was much murmuring

among the people concerning Him: for some said, He is a good man:

others said, Nay; but He deceiveth the people. Howbeit no man spake

openly of Him for fear of the Jews._'

We are carried at once into the bustle of the feast. Two or three

lines give a clearer and livelier impression of the feelings of the

crowds who were assembled at it, than the longest description could

have given. They wonder if the Teacher from Galilee is there, or is

coming. There are various thoughts about Him. 'He has done many kind

acts; surely He is a good man.' So says this man and that, as they

talk in the streets. 'Yes; but the multitude,--the ignorant people,

who are expecting a king,--what strange, dangerous notions He is

filling them with! Can you doubt that He is plotting to be their

chief?' So others whisper, correcting the charitable judgments of

their neighbours. But it is a hum of voices. There is a fear of

something, the people do not well know of what. It is a fear of the

Jews, the Apostle says. Each fears the other. There is a concentrated

Jewish feeling in the Sanhedrim, among the rulers, which all tremble

at. Till that has been pronounced--above all, while there is a

suspicion that it will come forth in condemnation--it is not wise for

any to commit themselves. Brethren, do we not _know_ that this is a

true story? Must it not have happened in Jerusalem then; for would it

not happen in London now?

'_Now about the midst of the feast Jesus went up into the temple, and

taught. And the Jews marvelled, saying, How knoweth this man letters,

having never learned? Jesus answered them, and said, My doctrine is

not mine, but His that sent me._'

He went up to the feast in secret; but He goes into the Temple openly.

He has as little wish to hide His doctrine as He has to display

Himself. His testimony is to the world. It is borne at this time to a

letter-worshipping world,--to a world which believed that certain

letters had come long ago from God, but which utterly disbelieved

that God could hold converse with men in their day. Such people have

lost all sense of the meaning of letters. They are no longer the

blessed media of intercourse between soul and soul, witnesses of

spiritual communication; they are dead things, to be committed to

memory, to be learnt most readily by those to whom they express least.

How natural their wonder was that He who spoke with authority,--He who

uttered living words, and adopted all the living symbols of nature to

illustrate them,--should know letters, when there was no evidence that

He had gone to any school! And though a scribe may have first spoken

of His ignorance, it is quite probable that the crowd will quickly

have caught the phrase, and have manifested the same astonishment that

one of themselves should dare to teach them. The answer is in

accordance with all that He has said before. There is a fountain

within, from which His words flow. They are not His own. He speaks

what He has heard. He is a Messenger from the Unseen; He is a

Messenger to human beings. He can make Himself understood by them; He

can prove His commission to them. And this is the way He will prove

it. '_If any man will do His will, he shall know of the doctrine,

whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself. He that speaketh

of himself seeketh his own glory: but he that seeketh His glory that

sent him, the same is true, and no unrighteousness is in him. Did not

Moses give you the law, and yet none of you keepeth the law? Why go ye

about to kill me?_'

I have taken these three verses together. I believe we lose the force

of the first, if we separate it from the other two. Oftentimes we hear

the first clause of the 17th verse quoted without the second. By that

violent proceeding this meaning is extracted from our Lord's

words,--that if a man keeps God's commandments, he arrives at a

correct apprehension of doctrinal propositions: an assertion which is

surely not always borne out by evidence, and which is likely to

produce quite as much self-righteousness as humility. Nay, it leads to

far more doubt than satisfaction. The question is raised, whether A,

or B, or C keeps God's commandments best, and therefore which may be

trusted best as an expositor of doctrine. The unknown is to be

ascertained by the more unknown: for who, except the Judge of all, can

answer this question? Who would attempt to answer it that reverenced

Christ's words,--'_Judge not, that ye be not judged_?'

Our Lord most carefully guarded His sentence against this

construction. Our translators have honestly and righteously preserved

the singular phrase,--'_If any man will_ (or wills to) _do His will_.'

Supposing a man really recognises a will as higher than his own, and

wishes, above all things, to be conformed to that will, then Christ's

words about _His_ coming to do a Father's will,--His whole doctrine,

which is grounded upon His relation to His Father, and His fulfilment

of His will,--must become by degrees intelligible to that man. He may

be confused about phrases, he may blunder in his statements, but he

will enter into the meaning of the teaching; there will be a continual

interpretation of it in his own thoughts and acts. For self-glorying,

self-seeking, self-will is that which he will be continually dreading

in himself, from which he will be continually flying in himself. He

will know that that has been and is the cause of all falsehood in his

words, his deeds, his thoughts; and therefore he will acknowledge

that One in whom there is no such self-seeking, self-glorying,

self-willing, who was entirely seeking the glory of another, and doing

the will of another, must be true altogether, must be right

altogether,--that there can be no falsehood, no wrong in Him.

Here is our Lord's famous test, which has never been

superseded,--which has never failed in the case of any generation or

of any man. Jesus applies it at once to those who were about Him. They

had a law,--they boasted of a law. But did they bow to the law, as

expressing the will of One higher than themselves? No; it was a

document which they could call _theirs_, which belonged to them--not a

power which was to rule them; therefore this law which forbade killing

was to be the very excuse for killing. They went about to kill Jesus,

out of love to the law. A more tremendous illustration of a

principle--tremendous, because its force has not been spent in

eighteen centuries--cannot be conceived. It is possible to make God's

commandments an occasion for boasting over others, for self-glorying;

and so it is possible to make God's law a perpetual barrier between us

and all knowledge of His will--even a reason for resisting it in our

acts.

Perhaps the people at large were not aware that there had been any

plot to kill Jesus at the former feast; for '_the multitude answered,

Thou hast a devil: who goeth about to kill thee_?' Without apparently

heeding the interruption--addressing Himself to those who _did_ know

what had happened at the Pool of Bethesda, and what charge had been

brought against Him for healing on the Sabbath-day--'_Jesus answered

and said unto them, I have done one work, and ye all marvel. Moses

therefore gave unto you circumcision; (not because it is of Moses, but

of the fathers;) and ye on the sabbath-day circumcise a man. If a

man on the sabbath-day receive circumcision, that the law of Moses

should not be broken; are ye angry at me, because I have made a man

every whit whole on the sabbath-day? Judge not according to the

appearance, but judge righteous judgment._'

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