interpretation, not to connect these words with the Greeks who had
come to the feast, whether we suppose that they were present and heard
them, or that the answer was simply addressed to Philip and Andrew.
And then the questions arise,--Why should this be such an hour of
trouble and of glory? How should the appearance of a few strangers
have led to a discussion respecting the falling of wheat into the
ground, and its death,--respecting the saving of life and the losing
it? You will remember that when our Lord spoke of those other sheep
He had, which were not of the Jewish fold, and whom also He must
bring, He connected the formation of the one flock with the death of
the one Shepherd. He signified clearly that the union could take place
only upon this condition. The assertion is in strict harmony with the
comment of the Apostle upon the words of Caiaphas to which I have
alluded already. The death upon the cross was to take place that He
might gather together in one those scattered children of God. If you
turn from St. John to St. Paul,--from this Gospel to the Epistle to
the Ephesians,--you will find the breaking down of the middle wall of
partition between Jews and Greeks is said to be effected '_in the body
of Christ's flesh, through death_;' that He is said to have '_nailed
the enmity to His cross_.' If you reflect on these passages, you will
perceive (as I said in my discourse on the 10th of John) that what we
sometimes speak of very lightly, as if it were only an accident of the
New Testament,--the calling in of the Gentiles--the unfolding of a
universal society out of the Jewish national society,--is treated by
our Lord Himself, and by His Apostles, as that wonderful event to
which all God's purposes, from the beginning of the world, had been
tending. You will perceive that they looked upon this reunion, or
reconciliation, as unveiling a deep mystery--the deepest mystery of
all--in the relations of God to man, in the being of God Himself.
Without sacrifice,--so the Jews had been taught from the beginning of
their history,--so the other nations had believed just in proportion
as they _were_ nations,--without sacrifice, there could be no unity
among the members of a race. Sacrifice must bind them to God.
Sacrifice must bind them to each other. This great political and
Divine truth had been confirmed by the human conscience, even when it
protested most against some of the inferences which priestcraft had
deduced from it. Only he who can give up himself--so the heart of
mankind testified--is a patriot; only he obeys the laws; only he can
save his country when it is falling. There had been then a sure
conviction expressed by prophets and holy men, planted deep in men's
hearts, that any larger union--any union which should be between all
nations, which should really be for mankind--must involve a mightier
and more transcendent sacrifice; a sacrifice in which there should be
no blemish. As the conscience was awakened by God's teaching more and
more clearly to perceive that all resistance to God lies in the
setting up of self--that this is the great barrier between Him and His
revolted creatures--it began to be understood that the atonement of
man with man must have its basis in an atonement of God with man, and
that the same sacrifice was needed for both. One thing yet remained to
be learnt, the most wonderful lesson of all; and yet of which God had
been giving the elements, line upon line, precept upon precept, from
the beginning. Could sacrifice originate in God? Could it be made, not
first _to_ Him, but first _by_ Him? Could the sacrifices of men be the
effect, not the cause, of His love and free grace to them? All our
Lord's discourses concerning Himself and His Father,--concerning His
own acts as being merely the fulfilment of His Father's
will,--concerning the love which the Father had to Him because He laid
down His life for the sheep,--had been bringing these mysteries to
light; had been preparing the humble and meek to confess, with wonder
and contrition, that in every selfish act they had been fighting
against the unselfish God,--that in every self-sacrificing act they
had been merely yielding to Him,--merely submitting to die, according
to the law of His Eternal Being, which He had created men to show
forth. And so far as they had any glimpses of the accomplishment of
God's promises,--that He would bring all into one,--that the Gentiles
should wait for His law,--that He would be a Father of all the
families of the earth, and that they should be His children,--so far
they had the vision of a transcendent and Divine sacrifice.
There was One, at least, who lived in the assurance that God's will
would be done in earth as in heaven, and whose soul was straitened
till that will was accomplished. To His inward eye, the Greeks, who
had come to claim their share in Jewish privileges and Jewish
knowledge, and who wished to see Him, represented all those who should
believe in Him, when His Apostles should go forth to baptize the
nations in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy
Ghost. They represented the human race of which He was the head, which
should be at last gathered together in Him. How emphatically, then,
did that moment speak to Him of the glory of the Son of Man,--of the
end of His travail for the race of which He was the brother! It was
the sign of that coming victory and glory. But how could He see that
final issue, and not feel in Himself all the conflict which was to
precede it? There was to be a mighty harvest: but the seed, from which
it was to spring, must '_first fall into the ground and die, else it
would abide alone_; it would give birth to nothing.' Yes! that was the
law; He knew it, He realized it in His own inmost being, that He
might bring the world under it. He who would not give up his life,
must lose his life; he who was content to cast it away, to surrender
it wholly, should have the Life which is in God,--the eternal
life--the life of truth and love, which cannot be destroyed. 'If any
man "_serve me_," if he call himself after my name, let him go along
with me in this path of sacrifice; let him be content to die with me;
then where I am, he shall be; he shall share the presence and the love
which are my joy and my reward; "_him shall my Father honour_."' But
then comes the agony. The death He called upon others to die with Him,
He must taste in its bitterness. He must tread the winepress alone. He
_was_ treading it at that very moment. The sense of the glory of the
Son of Man--of the work that He would achieve for humanity--brings on
the unutterable sorrow. The whole man sinks within Him,--He can only
say, '_Father, save me from this hour_.' And yet He adds, '_For this
cause came I to this hour_.' It is not often that these actual signs
of the struggle within Him are declared to us. How wise and necessary
that we should have only rare and occasional discoveries of it! But of
what unspeakable worth have these discoveries been to the hearts of
sufferers in every age! The agony must be passed through; the
death-struggle--which is most tremendous after the vision of coming
good has been the brightest. But the sting of solitude, which is the
sharpest of all, is taken out of it. Christ has cried, '_Save me from
this hour_.' Christ has Himself said, 'That all He had passed through
before, had been to prepare Him for that hour.' And Christ changed
this cry into another. '_Father, glorify thy name. Then came there
a voice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will
glorify it again. The people, therefore, that stood by, and heard it,
said that it thundered: others said, an Angel spake to Him. Jesus
answered and said, This voice came not because of me, but for your
sakes. Now is the judgment of this world, now shall the prince of this
world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw
all men unto me. This He said, signifying by what death He should
die._'
I have heard speculations about this voice from heaven. It seems to me
that St. John's words, taking them just as they stand, convey a much
clearer impression to our minds than all commentaries upon them. There
is a sound. The people take it for thunder. Some, seeing perhaps a
sudden radiance in His countenance, think that an angel has brought
Him strength and consolation. He hears in it the voice of His
Father,--the sure witness that that name has been glorified, and shall
be glorified. To Him the mere voice, the outward sound, is nothing.
'_That came for their sakes._' It was the outward witness to them of
the reality of that which He received into His heart. And surely the
message has done its work. The struggle is over. He can see victory in
His death. Sentence is passed on the tyrant of the world,--the
Destroyer of the world. The trial-hour of the Son of Man is the hour
of his defeat and overthrow. '_And I, if I be lifted up from the
earth, will draw all men unto me._'
'_I will draw all men unto me._' How can we explain these words?
First, let us listen to those which followed them, and then let us
consider how far we dare explain them. '_The people answered him, We
have heard out of the law that Christ abideth for ever: and how
sayest thou, The Son of man must be lifted up? Who is this Son of man?
Then Jesus said unto them, Yet a little while is the light with you.
Walk while ye have the light, lest darkness come upon you: for he that
walketh in darkness knoweth not whither he goeth. While ye have light,
believe in the light, that ye may be the children of light. These
things said Jesus, and departed, and did hide Himself from them._'
Yes, brethren, we must either take those words, '_I, if I be lifted
up, will draw all men unto me_,' as they stand, trying to learn a
little of what they mean from the past history of the world, waiting
for God to explain them to us more perfectly in the future; we must
either confess that there are depths in God's purposes of love which
no creature has sounded, heights which no creature has reached, but of
which the Cross gives us the fullest glimpse we are capable of; we
must either do this, or we must ask just as the Jews did,--'_Who is
this Son of man?_' They could dream of a Christ who should exalt the
chosen people, who should set them over their enemies. They could
anticipate with a kind of faith the coming of such a Christ, and they
could be sure that when He came He would abide for ever. But one who
identified Himself with men, they would not, could not confess. I use
both phrases, for the Bible uses them; St. John uses them at the close
of this chapter. There is a hardness of heart, an inhumanity, which
makes it _impossible_ for men, for the most apparently religious men,
to receive Jesus as the Son of Man. And therefore it is _impossible_
for them really to receive Him as the Son of God, as revealing the
mind and character of His Father in heaven. And the Atonement of
heaven and earth, of God and man; the Atonement through a sacrifice
made once for all; the Atonement by the blood of One who has taken the
manhood into God,--who has raised, purified, redeemed, glorified the
earthly nature by joining it to the Divine,--is changed into a cold,
formal arrangement for delivering certain men from the punishment of a
sin which has itself not been purged away. For sin is no longer that
root of bitterness, that selfishness, which has poisoned the universe,
and poisons the hearts of each one of us--that deadly thing which
betrays Christ, and which divides us from the Father; sin becomes the
violation of an arbitrary rule, drawing after it the endurance of an
arbitrary and infinite penalty. Those who boast of their religion
think they can have a Christ who is not a Son of Man; a God who is
their Father, and not the Father of men in Christ; a Spirit who
sanctifies them, but who does not dwell in the Church,--who is not the
witness of a fellowship for all creatures whatever who bear the nature
which Christ bore, who die the death which Christ died. Nay, the cross
of Christ--of Him who gave up Himself--is actually so presented to
men, that they suppose it is the instrument by which self-seeking men
may secure the greatest amount of selfish rewards! Then other men, who
know that such a scheme must be subversive of all pure morality,
abandon the Gospel of God for what they call the Gospel of humanity.
They fancy there can be a society of men without a Shepherd who dies
for them; without a Father who loves Him because He dies. And the
world begins to be divided between those who deny a Son of Man,
because they think only of a salvation for themselves, and those who
deny Him, because they worship the body of which we declare Him to be
the Head instead of Him.
Brethren, this division will not last. The Pharisees and Sadducees,
much as they hated one another, came to understand that they had a
common enemy when Christ walked the earth. They will do so again. The
creeds of the Catholic Church, all our prayers and thanksgivings, bear
witness that there is a Son of Man,--that He died for mankind, and
that He lives for mankind. Do you not think there will be a
combination against these? Do you think their antiquity will save
them? Or do you think there is a heart in our people to say,--'These
witnesses are dearer to us than our lives. Life would be nothing to us
without them.' I dare not trust to such a feeling. I know that the cry
of 'Hosanna' may be followed very soon by the cry of 'Crucify.' And we
have dealt so unfaithfully with these witnesses, they have been such
dead letters to us, that I dare not hope the people know the worth of
them. Oh that they may not be tolerated any longer because they are
regarded as doing no harm! Oh that they may become real torments to
those who deny a Son of Man,--real messengers of life to those who
seek for one! And to you brethren, I say,--or rather Christ
says,--'_Walk in the light while you have the light, that ye may be
the children of the light_.' Cling to these prayers, and
thanksgivings, and sacraments, while you have them. Bind the meaning
of them to your hearts. Live it out in your families. Serve Christ in
your daily tasks. Follow Him in simple, hearty, self-sacrifice. And
then, when the dark hour comes, and the open witnesses of Him
disappear, and even two or three are scarcely gathered together in His
name, you may await the time of His full revelation; the time which
shall show that He died indeed to gather into one all the children of
God who are scattered throughout this divided world; the men of every
age, tongue, clime, colour, opinion; that by the might of His cross He
has drawn all to Himself.
DISCOURSE XXII.
THE WORLD AND THE DISCIPLES.
[Lincoln's Inn, 6th Sunday after Trinity, June 29, 1856 (St.
Peter's-day).]
ST. JOHN XII. 44-50, and XIII. 1.
_Jesus cried and said, He that believeth on me, believeth
not on me, but on Him that sent me. And he that seeth me
seeth Him that sent me. I am come a light into the world,
that whomsoever believeth on me should not abide in
darkness. And if any man hear my words, and believe not, I
judge him not; for I came not to judge the world, but to
save the world. He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my
words, hath one that judgeth him: the word that I have
spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day. For I have
not spoken of myself; but the Father which sent me, He gave
me a commandment, what I should say, and what I should
speak. And I know that His commandment is life everlasting:
whatsoever I speak therefore, even as the Father said unto
me, so I speak. Now before the feast of the Passover, when
Jesus knew that His hour was come that He should depart out
of this world unto the Father, having loved His own which
were in the world, He loved them unto the end._
I said, in my last sermon, that we were approaching the end of our
Lord's public ministry. The verses which I have just read to you are
those which close it. I have connected them with the opening of the
13th chapter, because I wish you to mark the transition from this part
of St. John's Gospel to that which records Christ's private interviews
with the disciples. Hitherto the Apostles have had _less_ prominence
in St. John's Gospel than in the others. We have had narratives of
discourses with Nicodemus, with the woman of Samaria, with the Jews at
the feast, with the Galilæans at Capernaum, with the blind man, with
Mary and Martha,--only now and then, (chiefly to introduce these
dialogues or to link them together,) with the Twelve. The contrast,
therefore, in him is far more marked than in St. Matthew, St. Mark, or
St. Luke, between the Paschal supper and all that goes before it. And
since inferences have been drawn from this contrast which I think are
not true, I am anxious that you should feel how the words to the
multitude, and the words to the chosen few, are connected, and in what
the difference between them consists.
I must begin with some words which occur before those I have read to
you:--'_But though He had done so many miracles before them, yet they
believed not on Him: that the saying of Esaias the prophet might be
fulfilled, which he spake, Lord, who hath believed our report? and to
whom hath the arm of the Lord been revealed? Therefore they could not
believe, because that Esaias said again, He hath blinded their eyes,
and hardened their heart; that they should not see with their eyes,
nor understand with their heart, and be converted, and I should heal
them. These things said Esaias, when he saw His glory, and spake of
Him._' St. John speaks here of the signs which Jesus did, as he has
spoken of them from the first. They were signs of a divine presence, a
divine power, a divine goodness. They were mighty, in so far as they
revealed His presence, and power, and goodness. They were utterly
ineffectual to any who esteemed them for their own sakes,--who merely
wondered at them. These signs, he tells us now, had not produced
belief. Was it to be expected that they would? Had not an old Prophet,
who spoke the word of God, testified that they would not? Had he not
complained for his predecessors, for himself, for all that should come
after him, that the report of the care of God for men would be
believed by very few; that only by very few would it be felt that the
arm of a living God was stretched forth? And Isaiah, so the Apostle
goes on, has not merely told us the effect which he witnessed, but has
laid bare the cause. The inner eye which should see the divine arm is
blinded, the heart which should take in the tidings of goodness and
love is hardened: this was the reason why men with all outward
advantages,--with a law, and a history, and a covenant,--chosen out of
all nations to know God and be witnesses of Him, made all these
privileges the very excuse for not turning to God, for not receiving
His healing virtue.
But this is not the whole explanation. We must not forget that St.
John says,--'HE _hath blinded their eyes and hardened their hearts_.'
We must not dare to cancel these words, because we may find them
difficult. St. John himself interprets them in the next verse. He
reminds us that Isaiah spake these words when he had the vision of the
King who was sitting upon a throne and filling the temple with His
glory. 'That,' he intimates, 'was a vision of the true Lord of the
nation, of that same Ruler who now that He was called Jesus of
Nazareth was rejected, just as He had been in the days of old when He
was revealing Himself to His subjects in personal and in national
judgments.' In both cases it was the goodness, the beauty, the glory,
which blinded the eyes and hardened the hearts. We know it is so.
Experience tells us that goodness has this effect upon minds in a
certain condition. The bad that was in them it makes worse. The sight
of love awakens and deepens hatred. If we believe and are sure that
love has another power than this, that it is stronger than hatred, and
can overcome hatred, let us cherish that faith. St. John certainly
will not discourage us in it. No one demands it of us so much. But we
must arrive at it, not through the denial of any facts, only through
the fullest and frankest acknowledgment of them. This blinding,
destructive effect of goodness and love upon the evil will, is a fact
which we are bound to confess, and to tremble. It will force itself
upon us, it will explain itself to us in ourselves, if we pretend to
dispute it. If we own the danger, God will reveal to us the arm which
can avert it; He will enable us to take in the mighty report of that
power and love which can subdue all enemies.
The next words are also of the Evangelist. They contain partly a
limitation of the former, partly an illustration of them.
'_Nevertheless among the chief rulers many believed on Him; but
because of the Pharisees they did not confess Him, lest they should be
put out of the synagogue: for they loved the praise of men more than
the praise of God._' Only two verses before, the word which we render
_praise_ here had been rendered _glory_. I do not know why the
connexion should not have been kept up for the English reader, seeing
that it must certainly have been present to the mind of the Apostle. A
vision of glory, he seems to say, did dawn upon the hearts of these
rulers. It was not the notion of an outward Christ which presented
itself to them. There came to their inmost consciences the sense of a
King who was over them, of a Word who was enlightening them. But there
rose up beside this vision another which seemed to be nearer,--the
vision of human glory, human reputation, respectability in the class
to which they belonged, the smile and good opinion of the Pharisee,
the comfort of being called members of the synagogue. Brethren, which
of us does not understand how this image might displace and banish the
other,--how the hearts of these poor rulers, because they were like
ours, might reject the noble to fondle and embrace the vile? Let us
submit to be judged ourselves by the Apostle's words, instead of
judging others. And let us ask that what we believe with our hearts we
may confess with our lips; knowing that there is no condition so
miserable as that of those who are enemies both to God and to His
enemies; knowing that such must be, above all, enemies to themselves.
Here is the remedy against this state of mind:--'_Jesus cried and
said, He that believeth on me, believeth not on me, but on Him that
sent me. And he that seeth me, seeth Him that sent me. I am come a
light into the world, that whosoever believeth on me should not abide
in darkness. And if any man hear my words, and believe not, I judge
him not; for I came not to judge the world, but to save the world. He
that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my words, hath one that judgeth
him: the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last
day. For I have not spoken of myself; but the Father which sent me, He
gave me a commandment, what I should say, and what I should speak. And
I know that His commandment is life everlasting: whatsoever I speak
therefore, even as the Father said unto me, so I speak._'
This was the summary of all that He had been teaching hitherto. Yet
with what new force must it have come upon those who were halting
between Jesus and the Pharisees, who were convinced that He was the
true leader, and yet clung to the leaders of their sect! 'Belief in me
is not belief in a chief of your choice. It is belief in the God of
Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the Father of your spirits. In me
you see Him. I find you in darkness, ignorance of yourselves, of your
relation to each other, of your relation to God. I am come a Light
into the world,--a Light to show you what you are, where you are, what
you have to do with your fellows, what you have to do with Him apart
from whom you have no life. You _can_ refuse that Light; you can treat
what I say as vain babbling, as coming from the inspiration of an evil
spirit. I judge you not. I have come not to judge the world, but to
save it out of its darkness; to bring it back to God. But the word
that I speak, which is echoed in your consciences, which is testifying
of God in them, that word will judge you in the last day; that will
tell you who has been with you, who has been binding you to Himself
when you have been tearing yourselves away. For I have not been
uttering a word out of my own heart; I have not been setting up my own
will. I have been obeying my Father's will, fulfilling His
commandments. And I know that His commandment is life eternal. I know
that it is life in itself, and that its effect is life. These words
which I speak, do themselves issue from that Fountain of life; they
are the words of the living Father; therefore, they are living and
life-giving words.'
If we consider well the force of this parting testimony to the Jewish
world, we shall be prepared to understand the words:--'_Now before the
feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that His hour was come that He
should depart out of this world unto the Father, having loved His own
which were in the world, He loved them unto the end_.'
The Jewish sects had refused to believe in a Father. They had refused
to believe in a Son of Man. They had refused to believe in a Lord of
their own hearts. For a Father they had substituted a lawgiver, who
hated all Gentiles, and to whom Jews could only look up with terror,
not with confidence. For a Son of Man they had substituted their sect
and its leaders. For a Lord over their hearts they had substituted the
notion of an outward Christ, who was to be identified by certain
particulars of place and time, which must be ascertained by studying
the letters of a book. The hour was come when all these contradictions
would reach their highest point, when the sects would combine to show
what was the real point of their agreement; to Whom they were equally
opposed. The feast of the Passover was to be the crisis which would
reveal the dark thoughts that were in them; which would show what they
were, and what Jesus was. He knew that the moment was come when the
question was to be decided, whether men have a Father, or are orphans;
whether they have a living Head, or are the loose, broken limbs of a
body which has none; whether they are to be governed as horses and
mules are governed, by bit and bridle, or as spirits are governed, by
a higher Spirit. He had chosen His Apostles to testify to their own
nation, and to all nations, of Him and of His Father. He had held them
together by His own love, when there was that in the world, and that
in themselves, which would have separated them. Had anything happened
to break this bond between them and Him? If He left the world, if He
returned to His Father, would it be broken?