SECTION IX.

GREEK. LATIN.

Και αι εντολαι αυτου Et mandata eius gravia

βαρειαι ουκ εισιν· ὁτι non sunt. Quoniam

παν το γεγεννημενον εκ omne quod natum est

του Θεου νικα τον ex Deo vincit mundum:

κοσμον· και αυτη εστιν et hæc est victoria

ἡ νικη ἡ νικησασα τον quæ vincit mundum,

κοσμον, ἡ πιστις ἡμων. fides nostra. Quis est

τις εστιν ὁ νικων τον qui vincit mundum nisi

κοσμον, ει μη ὁ πιστευων qui credit quoniam

ὁτι Ιησους εστιν ὁ υιος Iesus est Filius Dei?

του Θεου; Ουτος εστιν Hic est qui venit per

ὁ ελθων δι ὑδατος και aquam et sanguinem,

αιματος, Ιησους ὁ Χριστος· Iesus Christus: non in

ουκ εν τω ὑδατι aqua solum, sed in

μονον, αλλ' εν τω ὑδατι aqua et sanguine. Et

και εν τω αιματι· και το Spiritus est qui testificatur

πνευμα εστι το μαρτυρουν, quoniam Christus

ὁτι το πνευμα est veritas. Quia

εστιν ἡ αληθεια. ὁτι tres sunt qui testimonium

τρεις εισιν οι μαρτυρουντες, dant, Spiritus

το πνευμα, και et aqua et sanguis, et

το ὑδωρ, και το αιμα· tres unum sunt. Si

και οι τρεις εις το ἑν testimonium hominum

εισιν. Ει την μαρτυριαν accipimus, testimonium

των ανθρωπων λαμβανομεν, Dei maius est: quoniam

ἡ μαρτυρια του hoc est testimonium

Θεου μειζων εστιν· ὁτι Dei quod

αυτη εστιν ἡ μαρτυρια maius est, quia testificatus

του Θεου, ὁτι μεμαρτυρηκεν est de Filio suo.

περι του υιου Qui credit in Filio Dei,

αυτου. ὁ πιστευων εις habet testimonium Dei

τον υιον του Θεου, εχει in se: qui non credit

την μαρτυριαν εν αυτω. mendacem facit eum:

ὁ μη πιστευων τω quoniam non credidit

Θεω, ψευστην πεποιηκεν in testimonio quod

αυτον, ὁτι ου πεπιστευκεν testificatus est Deus

εις την μαρτυριαν, ἡν de Filio suo. Et hoc

μεμαρτυρηκεν ὁ Θεος est testimonium, quoniam

περι του υιου αυτου. vitam eternam

Και αυτη εστιν ἡ μαρτυρια dedit nobis Deus, et

ὁτι ζωην αιωνιον hæc vita in Filio eius.

εδωκεν ἡμιν ὁ Θεος· και Qui habet Filium habet

αυτη ἡ ζωη εν τω υιω vitam: qui non habet

αυτου εστιν. ὁ εχων filium vitam non habet.

τον υιον, εχει την ζωην· Hæc scripsi vobis ut

ὁ μη εχων τον υιον του sciatis quoniam vitam

Θεου, την ζωην ουκ εχει. habetis æternam, qui

Ταυτα εγραψα ὑμιν ἱνα creditis in nomine

ειδητε ὁτι ζωην εχετε Filii Dei. Et hæc est

αιωνιον, οι πιστευοντες fiducia quam habemus

εις το ὁνομα του υιου ad eum quia quodcumque

του Θεου. Και αυτη petierimus secundum

εστιν ἡ παρρησια ἡν voluntatem

εχομεν προς αυτον, ὁτι eius audit nos. Et

εαν τι αιτωμεθα κατα scimus quoniam audit

το θελημα αυτου, ακουει nos quicquid petierimus,

ἡμων· και εαν οιδαμεν scimus quoniam

ὁτι ακουει ἡμων ὁ αν habemus petitiones

αιτωμεθα, οιδαμεν ὁτι quas postulamus ab eo.

εχομεν τα αιτηματα α Qui scit fratrem suum

ητηκαμεν παρ' αυτου. peccare peccatum non

Εαν τις ιδη τον αδελφον ad mortem, petit, et

αυτου αμαρτανοντα dabit ei vitam, peccantibus

αμαρτιαν μη προς θανατον, non ad mortem.

αιτησει, και δωσει Est peccatum ad mortem:

αυτω ζωην τοις ἁμαρτανουσι non pro illo dico

μη προς θανατον. ut roget quis. Omnis

εστιν αμαρτια προς iniquitas peccatum est:

θανατον· ου περι εκεινης et est peccatum ad

λεγω ἱνα ερωτηση· πασα mortem.

αδικια αμαρτια εστιν,

και εστιν αμαρτια ου

προς θανατον.

AUTHORISED VERSION. REVISED VERSION.

And His commandments And His commandments

are not grievous. are not grievous.

For whatsoever is born For whatsoever is begotten

of God overcometh the of God overcometh

world: and this is the the world: and

victory that overcometh this is the victory that

the world, _even_ our hath overcome the

faith. Who is he that world, _even_ our faith.

overcometh the world, And who is he that

but he that believeth overcometh the world,

that Jesus is the Son but he that believeth

of God? This is He that Jesus is the Son

that came by water of God? This is He

and blood, _even_ Jesus that came by water

Christ; not by water and blood, _even_ Jesus

only, but by water and Christ; not with the

blood. And it is the water only, but with

Spirit that beareth witness, the water and with the

because the Spirit blood. And it is the

is truth. For there Spirit that beareth

are three that bear witness, because the

record in heaven, the Spirit is the truth.

Father, the Word, and For there are three

the Holy Ghost: and who bear witness, the

these three are one. Spirit, and the water,

And there are three and the blood: and the

that bear witness in three agree in one. If

earth, the spirit, and we receive the witness

the water, and the of men, the witness of

blood: and these three God is greater: for the

agree in one. If we witness of God is this,

receive the witness of that He hath borne

men, the witness of witness concerning His

God is greater: for Son. He that believeth

this is the witness of on the Son of God hath

God which He hath the witness in him: he

testified of His Son. that believeth not God

He that believeth on hath made Him a liar:

the Son of God hath because he hath not

the witness in himself: believed in the witness

he that believeth not that God hath borne

God hath made Him a concerning His Son.

liar; because he believeth And the witness is

not the record this, that God gave

that God gave of His unto us eternal life,

Son. And this is the and this life is in His

record, that God hath Son. He that hath the

given to us eternal life, Son hath the life; he

and this life is in His that hath not the Son

Son. He that hath the of God hath not the life.

Son hath life; _and_ he These things have I

that hath not the Son written unto you, that

of God hath not life. ye may know that ye

These things have I have eternal life, _even_

written unto you that unto you that believe

believe on the name of on the name of the Son

the Son of God; that of God. And this is

ye may know that ye the boldness which we

have eternal life, and have toward Him, that,

that ye may believe on if we ask any thing

the name of the Son of according to His will,

God. And this is the He heareth us: and if

confidence that we we know that He heareth

have in Him, that, if us whatsoever we

ask any thing according ask, we know that

to His will, He we have the petitions

heareth us: and if we which we have asked

know that He hear us, of Him. If any man

whatsoever we ask, see his brother sinning

we know that we have a sin not unto death,

the petitions that we he shall ask, and _God_

desired of Him. If will give him life for

any man see his brother them that sin not unto

sin a sin _which is_ death. (There is a sin

not unto death, he shall unto death). There

ask, and He shall give is sin unto death; not

him life for them that concerning this _sin_ am

sin not unto death. I saying that he should

There is a sin unto make request. All

death: I do not say unrighteousness is sin,

that he shall pray for and there is sin not

it. All unrighteousness unto death.

is sin: and there

is a sin not unto death.

ANOTHER VERSION.

And His commandments

are not heavy,

for whatsoever is born

of God conquereth the

world: and this is the

conquest that hath conquered

the world--the

Faith of us. Who is

he that is conquering

the world, but he that

is believing that Jesus

is the Son of God?

This is He that came

by water and blood--Jesus

Christ: not with

the water only, but

with the water and

with the blood. And

the Spirit is that which

is ever witnessing that

the Spirit is the truth.

For three are they who

are ever witnessing, the

Spirit and the water

and the blood: and the

three agree in one.

If we receive the witness

of men the witness

of God is greater;

because the witness of

God is this, because (_I

say_) He hath witnessed

concerning His Son.

He that is believing on

the Son of God hath the

witness in him, he that

is not believing God

hath made Him a liar:

because he is not a

believer in the witness

that God witnessed

concerning His Son.

And this is the witness,

that God gave

unto us eternal life,

and this life is in His

Son. He that hath the

Son hath the life, he

that hath not the Son

of God hath not the

life. These things have

I written unto you that

ye may know that ye

have eternal life--ye

that are believing in

the name of the Son

of God! And this is

the boldness which we

have to Himward, that

if we ask any thing

according to His will,

He is hearing us: and

if we know that He is

hearing us, we know

that we have the desires

that we have

desired from Him. If

any man see his brother

sinning sin not unto

death, he shall ask,

and _God_ shall give him

life--(I _mean_ for those

who are not sinning

unto death). Not concerning

this _sin_ am I

saying that he should

make request. All unrighteousness

is sin,

and there is sin not

unto death.

DISCOURSE XI.

_BIRTH AND VICTORY._

"And His commandments are not grievous. For whatsoever is born of

God overcometh the world: and this is the victory that overcometh

the world, even our faith. Who is he that overcometh the world, but

he that believeth that Jesus is the Son of God?"--1 JOHN v. 3, 4, 5.

St. John here connects the Christian birth with victory. He tells us

that of the supernatural life the destined and (so to speak) natural

end is conquest.

Now in this there is a _contrast_ between the law of nature and the

law of grace. No doubt the first is marvellous. It may even, if we

will, in one sense be termed a victory; for it is the proof of a

successful contest with the blind fatalities of natural environment.

It is in itself the conquest of a something which has conquered a

world below it. The first faint cry of the baby is a wail no doubt;

but in its very utterance there is a half triumphant undertone.

Boyhood, youth, opening manhood--at least in those who are physically

and intellectually gifted--generally possess some share of "the

rapture of the strife" with nature and with their contemporaries.

"Youth hath triumphal mornings; its days bound

From night as from a victory."

But sooner or later that which pessimists style "the martyrdom of

life" sets in. However brightly the drama opens, the last scene is

always tragic. Our natural birth inevitably ends in defeat.

A birth and a defeat is thus the epitome of each life which is

naturally brought into the field of our present human existence. The

defeat is sighed over, sometimes consummated, in every cradle; it is

attested by every grave.

But if birth and defeat is the motto of the natural life, birth and

victory is the motto of every one born into the city of God.

This victory is spoken of in our verses as a victory along the whole

line. It is the conquest of the collective Church, of the whole mass of

regenerate humanity, so far as it has been true to the principle of its

birth[276]--the conquest of the Faith which is "The Faith of _us_,"[277]

who are knit together in one communion and fellowship in the mystical

body of the Son of God, Christ our Lord. But it is something more than

that. The general victory is also a victory in detail. Every true

individual believer shares in it.[278] The battle is a battle of

soldiers. The abstract ideal victory is realised and made concrete in

each life of struggle which is a life of enduring faith. The triumph is

not merely one of a school, or of a party. The question rings with a

triumphant challenge down the ranks--"who is the ever-conqueror of the

world, but the ever-believer that Jesus is the Son of God?"

We are thus brought to two of St. John's great master-conceptions,

both of which came to him from _hearing_ the Lord who is the

Life--both of which are to be read in connection with the fourth

Gospel--the Christian's _Birth_ and his _victory_.

I.

The Apostle introduces the idea of the birth which has its origin from

God precisely by the same process to which attention has already been

more than once directed.

St. John frequently mentions some great subject; at first like a

musician who with perfect command of his instrument, touches what

seems to be an almost random key, faintly, as if incidentally and half

wandering from his theme. But just as the sound appears to be absorbed

by the purpose of the composition, or all but lost in the distance,

the same chord is struck again more decidedly; and then, after more or

less interval, is brought out with a music so full and sonorous, that

we perceive that it has been one of the master's leading ideas from

the very first. So, when the subject is first spoken of, we

hear--"every one that doeth righteousness is born of Him."[279] The

subject is suspended for a while; then comes a somewhat more marked

reference. "Whosoever is born of God is not a doer of sin; and he

cannot continue sinning, because of God he is born." There is yet one

more tender recurrence to the favourite theme--"every one that loveth

is born of God."[280] Then, finally here at last the chord, so often

struck, grown bolder since the prelude, gathers all the music round

it. It interweaves with itself another strain which has similarly been

gaining amplitude of volume in its course, until we have a great _Te

Deum_, dominated by two chords of Birth and Victory. "This _is_ the

conquest that has _conquered_ the world--the Faith which is of us."

We shall never come to any adequate notion of St. John's conception of

the Birth of God, without tracing the place in his Gospel to which his

asterisk in this place refers. To one passage only can we turn--our

Lord's conversation with Nicodemus. "Except a man be born again, he

cannot see the kingdom of God--except a man be born of water and of

the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God."[281] The germ of

the idea of entrance into the city, the kingdom of God, by means of a

new birth, is in that storehouse of theological conceptions, the

psalter. There is one psalm of a Korahite seer, enigmatical it may be,

shadowed with the darkness of a divine compression,[282] obscure from

the glory that rings it round, and from the gush of joy in its few and

broken words. The 87th Psalm is the psalm of the font, the hymn of

regeneration. The nations once of the world are mentioned among them

that know the Lord. They are counted when He writeth up the peoples.

Glorious things are spoken of the City of God. Three times over the

burden of the song is the new birth by which the aliens were made free

of Sion.

This one was born there,

This one and that one was born in her,

This one was born there.[283]

All joyous life is thus brought into the city of the new-born. "The

singers, the solemn dances, the fresh and glancing springs, are in

thee."[284] Hence, from the notification of men being born again in

order to see and enter into the kingdom, our Lord, as if in surprise,

meets the Pharisee's question--"how can these things be?"--with

another--"art thou that teacher in Israel,[285] and understandest not

these things?" Jesus tells His Church for ever that every one of His

disciples must be brought into contact with two worlds, with two

influences--one outward, the other inward; one material, the other

spiritual; one earthly, the other heavenly; one visible and

sacramental, the other invisible and divine. Out of these he must come

forth new-born.

Of course it may be said that "the water" here coupled with the Spirit

is _figurative_. But let it be observed first, that from the very

constitution of St. John's intellectual and moral being things outward

and visible were not annihilated by the spiritual transparency which he

imparted to them. Water, literal water, is everywhere in his writings.

In his Gospel more especially he seems to be ever seeing, ever hearing

it. He loved it from the associations of his own early life, and from

the mention made of it by his Master. And as in the Gospel water is, so

to speak, one of the three great factors and centres of the book;[286]

so now in the Epistle, it still seems to glance and murmur before him.

"The water" is one of the three abiding witnesses in the Epistle also.

Surely, then, our Apostle would be eminently unlikely to express "the

Spirit of God" _without_ the outward water by "water _and_ the Spirit."

But above all, Christians should beware of a "licentious and deluding

alchemy of interpretation which maketh of anything whatsoever it

listeth." In immortal words--"when the letter of the law hath two things

plainly and expressly specified, water and the Spirit; water, as a duty

required on our part, the Spirit, as a gift which God bestoweth; there

is danger in so presuming to interpret it, as if the clause which

concerneth ourselves were more than needed. We may by such rare

expositions attain perhaps in the end to be thought witty, but with ill

advice."[287]

But, it will further be asked, whether we bring the Saviour's

saying--"except any one be born again of water and the Spirit"--into

direct connection with the baptism of infants? Above all, whether we

are not encouraging every baptised person to hold that somehow or

other he will have a part in the victory of the regenerate?

We need no other answer than that which is implied in the very force

of the word here used by St. John--"all that is born of God conquereth

the world." "That is born" is the participle perfect.[288] The force

of the perfect is not simply past action, but such action lasting on

in its effects. Our text, then, speaks only of those who having been

born again into the kingdom continue in a corresponding condition, and

unfold the life which they have received. The Saviour spoke first and

chiefly of the initial act. The Apostle's circumstances, now in his

old age, naturally led him to look on from that. St. John is no

"idolater of the immediate." Has the gift received by his spiritual

children worn long and lasted well? What of the new life which should

have issued from the New Birth? Regenerate in the past, are they

renewed in the present?

This simple piece of exegesis lets us at once perceive that another

verse in this Epistle, often considered of almost hopeless perplexity,

is in truth only the perfection of sanctified (nay, it may be said, of

moral) common-sense; an intuition of moral and spiritual instinct.

"Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin: for his seed remaineth in

him; and he cannot sin, because he is born of God." We have just seen

the real significance of the words "he that is born of God"--he for whom

his past birth lasts on in its effects. "He _doeth_ not sin," is not a

sin-doer, makes it not his "trade," as an old commentator says. Nay, "he

is not able to be" (to keep on) "sinning." "He cannot sin." He cannot!

There is no physical impossibility. Angels will not sweep him away upon

their resistless pinions. The Spirit will not hold him by the hand as if

with a mailed grasp, until the blood spirts from his finger-tips, that

he may not take the wine-cup, or walk out to the guilty assignation. The

compulsion of God is like that which is exercised upon us by some

pathetic wounded-looking face that gazes after us with a sweet reproach.

Tell the honest poor man with a large family of some safe and

expeditious way of transferring his neighbour's money to his own pocket.

He will answer, "I cannot steal:" that is, "I cannot steal, however

much it may physically be within my capacity, without a burning shame,

an agony to my nature worse than death." On some day of fierce heat,

hold a draught of iced wine to a total abstainer, and invite him to

drink. "I cannot," will be his reply. Cannot! He can, so far as his hand

goes; he cannot, without doing violence to a conviction, to a promise,

to his own sense of truth. And he who continues in the fulness of his

God-given Birth "does not _do_ sin," "cannot be sinning." Not that he is

sinless, not that he never fails, or does not sometimes fall; not that

sin ceases to be sin to him, because he thinks that he has a standing in

Christ. But he cannot go on in sin without being untrue to his birth;

without a stain upon that finer, whiter, more sensitive conscience,

which is called "spirit" in a son of God; without a convulsion in his

whole being which is the precursor of death, or an insensibility which

is death actually begun.

How many such texts as these are practically useless to most of us! The

armoury of God is full of keen swords which we refrain from handling,

because they have been misused by others. None is more neglected than

this. The fanatic has shrieked out--"sin in my case! I _cannot_ sin. _I_

may hold a sin in my bosom; and God may hold me in His arms for all

that. At least, I may hold that which would be a sin in you and most

others; but to _me_ it is _not_ sin." On the other hand, stupid goodness

maunders out some unintelligible paraphrase, until pew and reader yawn

from very weariness. Divine truth in its purity and plainness is thus

discredited by the exaggeration of the one, or buried in the leaden

winding-sheet of the stupidity of the other.

In leaving this portion of our subject we may compare the view latent

in the very idea of infant baptism with that of the leader of a

well-known sect upon the beginnings of the spiritual life in children.

"May not children grow up into salvation, without knowing the exact

moment of their conversion?" asks "General" Booth. His answer is--"yes,

it may be so; and we trust that in the future this will be the usual way

in which children may be brought to Christ." The writer goes on to tell

us how the New Birth will take place in future. "When the conditions

named in the first pages of this volume are complied with--when the

parents are godly, and the children are surrounded by holy influences

and examples from their birth, and trained up in the spirit of their

early dedication--they will _doubtless come to know and love and trust

their Saviour in the ordinary course of things_. The Holy Ghost will

take possession of them from the first. Mothers and fathers will, as it

were, put them into the Saviour's arms in their swaddling clothes, and

He will take them, and bless them, and sanctify them from the very womb,

and make them His own, without their knowing the hour or the place when

they pass from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of light. In

fact, with such little ones it shall never be very dark, for their

natural birth shall be, as it were, in the spiritual twilight, which

begins with the dim dawn, and increases gradually until the noonday

brightness is reached; so answering to the prophetic description, 'The

path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more

unto the perfect day.'"[289]

No one will deny that this is tenderly and beautifully written. But

objections to its teaching will crowd upon the mind of thoughtful

Christians. It seems to defer to a period in the future, to a new era

incalculably distant, when Christendom shall be absorbed in

Salvationism, that which St. John in his day contemplated as the normal

condition of believers, which the Church has always held to be capable

of realization, which has been actually realized in no few whom most of

us must have known. Further; the fountain-heads of thought, like those

of the Nile, are wrapped in obscurity. By what process grace may work

with the very young is an insoluble problem in psychology, which

Christianity has not revealed. We know nothing further than that Christ

blessed little children. That blessing was _impartial_, for it was

communicated to all who were brought to Him; it was _real_, otherwise He

would not have blessed them at all. That He conveys to them such grace

as they are capable of receiving is all that we can know. And yet again;

the Salvationist theory exalts parents and surroundings into the place

of Christ. It deposes His sacrament, which lies at the root of St.

John's language, and boasts that it will secure Christ's end, apparently

without any recognition of Christ's _means_.

II.

The second great idea in the verses at the head of this discourse is

_Victory_. The intended issue of the new birth is conquest--"all that

is born of God conquers the world."

The idea of victory is almost[290] exclusively confined to St. John's

writings. The idea is first expressed by Jesus--"be of good cheer: I

have conquered the world."[291] The first prelusive touch in the

Epistle, hints at the fulfilment of the Saviour's comfortable word in

one class of the Apostle's spiritual children. "I write unto you,

young men, because ye have conquered the wicked one. I have written

unto you, young men, because ye have conquered the wicked one."[292]

Next, a bolder and ampler strain--"ye are of God, little children, and

have conquered them: because greater is He that is in you, than he

that is in the world."[293] Then with a magnificent persistence, the

trumpet of Christ wakens echoes to its music all down and round the

defile through which the host is passing--"all that is born of God

conquereth the world: and this is the conquest that has conquered the

world--the Faith which is ours."[294] When, in St. John's other great

book, we pass with the seer into Patmos, the air is, indeed, "full of

noises and sweet sounds." But dominant over all is a storm of triumph,

a passionate exultation of victory. Thus each epistle to each of the

seven Churches closes with a promise "to him that _conquereth_."

The text promises _two_ forms of victory.

1. A victory is promised to the Church universal. "_All that_ is born

of God conquereth the world." This conquest is concentrated in, almost

identified with "the Faith." Primarily, in this place, the term (here

alone found in our Epistle) is not the faith by _which we believe_,

but the Faith _which is_ believed--as in some other places;[295] not

faith subjective, but The Faith objectively.[296] Here is the dogmatic

principle. The Faith involves definite knowledge of definite

principles. The religious knowledge, which is not capable of being put

into definite propositions, we need not trouble ourselves greatly

about. But we are guarded from over-dogmatism. The word "of us" which

follows "the Faith" is a mediating link between the objective and the

subjective. First, we possess this Faith as a common heritage. Then,

as in the Apostle's creed we begin to individualise this common

possession by prefixing "I believe" to every article of it. Then the

victory contained in the creed, the victory which the creed _is_ (for

more truly again than of Duty may it be said of Faith, "thou who _art

victory_"[297]), is made over to each who believes. Each, and each

alone, who in soul is ever believing, in practice is ever victorious.

This declaration is full of promise for missionary work. There is no

system of error, however ancient, subtle, or highly organised, which

must not go down before the strong collective life of the regenerate.

No less encouraging is it at home. No form of sin is incapable of

being overthrown. No school of anti-Christian thought is invulnerable

or invincible. There are other apostates besides Julian who will

cry--"Galilæe, vicisti!"

2. The second victory promised is individual, for each of us. Not only

where cathedral-spires lift high the triumphant cross; on

battle-fields which have added kingdoms to Christendom; by the

martyr's stake, or in the arena of the Coliseum, have these words

proved true. The victory comes down to us. In hospitals, in shops, in

courts, in ships, in sick-rooms, they are fulfilled for us. We see

their truth in the patience, sweetness, resignation, of little

children, of old men, of weak women. They give a high consecration and

a glorious meaning to much of the suffering that we see. What, we are

sometimes tempted to cry--is _this_ Christ's Army? are these His

soldiers, who can go anywhere and do anything? Poor weary ones! with

white lips, and the beads of death-sweat on their faces, and the

thorns of pain ringed like a crown round their foreheads; so wan, so

worn, so tired, so suffering, that even our love dares not pray for

them to live a little longer yet. Are these the elect of the elect,

the vanguard of the regenerate, who carry the flag of the cross where

its folds are waved by the storm of battle; whom St. John sees

advancing up the slope with such a burst of cheers and such a swell of

music that the words--"this is the conquest"--spring spontaneously

from his lips? Perhaps the angels answer with a voice which we cannot

hear--"whatsoever is born of God conquereth the world." May we fight

so manfully that each may render if not his "pure" yet his purified

"soul unto his captain Christ,

Under whose colours he hath fought so long:"

--that we may know something of the great text in the Epistle to the

Romans, with its matchless translation--"we are more than conquerors

through Him who loved us"[298]--that arrogance of victory which is at

once so splendid and so saintly.

FOOTNOTES:

[276] This is expressed, after St. John's fashion, by the neuter, παν

το γεγεννημενον εκ του Θεου. ver. 4.

[277] ἡ πιστις ἡμων, ver. 4.

[278] ὁ νικων τον κοσμον, ὁ πιστευων, ver. 5.

[279] 1 John ii. 29.

[280] 1 John iv. 7.

[281] John iii. 5.

[282] σφοδρα αινιγματωδης και σκοτεινως ειρημενος. Euseb.

[283]

יֻלָּר־שָׁמ וֶה. Ver. 4.

יֻלַּר־בָּהּ וְאִישׁ אִישׁ. Ver. 5.

יֻלָּר־שָׁמ וֶה. Ver. 6. Psalm lxxxvii.

[284]

"Both they who sing and they who dance,

With sacred song are there;

In thee fresh brooks and soft streams glance,

And all my fountains clear."

MILTON, Paraphrase Ps. lxxxvii. 7.

This, on the whole, seems to be considered the most tenable

interpretation.

[285] Συ ει ὁ διδασκαλος του Ισραηλ; John iii. 10.

[286] John i. 26, ii. 6, 9, iii. 5-22, iv. 6-16, v. 3, vii. 37, 39,

ix. 7, xiii. 1-5, xix. 34.

[287] Hooker, _E. P._, V. lix. (4).

[288] So the perfect is used throughout. γεγεννηται. ii. 29, iii. 9,

iv. 7. παν το γεγεννημενον. v. 4. Very remarkably below, πας ὁ

γεγεννημενος--αλλα ὁ γεννηθεις εκ του Θεου; the first of the

regenerate man who continues in that condition of grace, the second of

the Begotten Son of God who keeps His servant. 1 John v. 18.

[289] _Training of children; or How to Make the Children into Saints

and Soldiers of Jesus Christ._ By the General of the Salvation Army.

London: Salvation Army Book Stores, pp. 162, 163.

[290] Not quite, cf. Rom. viii. 37, xii, 21; 1 Cor. xv. 55, 57. The

substantive νικη occurs only 1 John v. 4. A slightly different form

(νικος) is in Matt. xii. 20; 1 Cor. xv. 54, 55, 57.

[291] John xvi. 33.

[292] John ii. 13, 14.

[293] 1 John iv. 4.

[294] It does not seem possible to convey to the English reader the

fourfold harping upon the word (1 John v. 4, 5) by any other rendering.

"The _victory_ that hath _overcome_ the world" (R.V.) fails in this. The

noble translation of ὑπερνικωμεν (Rom. viii. 37), happily retained by

the Revisers, is rendered consistent by the translation here proposed.

[295] Apoc. ii. 13, xiv. 12.

[296] Fides _quæ creditur_, not _quâ creditur_.

[297]

"Thou who art victory!" WORDSWORTH, _Ode to Duty_.

[298] ὑπερνικωμεν. Rom. viii. 37.

DISCOURSE XII.

_THE GOSPEL AS A GOSPEL OF WITNESS; THE THREE WITNESSES._

"It is the Spirit that beareth witness, because the Spirit is

truth. For there are three that bear witness, the Spirit, and the

water, and the blood; and these three agree in one. If we receive

the witness of men, the witness of God is greater, for this is the

witness of God which He hath testified of His Son. He that

believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in himself."--1 JOHN

v. 6-10.

It has been said that Apostles and apostolic men were as far as

possible removed from common-sense, and have no conception of evidence

in our acceptation of the word. About this statement there is scarcely

even superficial plausibility. Common-sense is the measure of ordinary

human tact among palpable realities. In relation to human existence it

is the balance of the estimative faculties; the instinctive summary of

inductions which makes us rightly credulous and rightly incredulous,

which teaches us the supreme lesson of life, when to say "yes," and

when to say "no." Uncommon sense is superhuman tact among no less real

but at present impalpable realities; the spiritual faculty of forming

spiritual inductions aright. So St. John among the three great canons

of primary truth with which he closes his Epistle writes--"we know

that the Son of God hath come and is present, and hath given us

understanding, that we know Him who is true."[299] So with

_evidences_. Apostles did not draw them out with the same logical

precision, or rather not in the same logical form, which the modern

spirit demands. Yet they rested their conclusions upon the same

abiding principle of evidence, the primary axiom of our entire social

life--that there is a degree of human evidence which practically

cannot deceive. "If we receive the witness of men." The form of

expression implies that we certainly do.[300]

Peculiar difficulty has been felt in understanding the paragraph. And

one portion of it remains difficult after any explanation. But we

shall succeed in apprehending it as a whole only upon condition of

taking one guiding principle of interpretation with us.

The word _witness_ is St. John's central thought here. He is

determined to beat it into the minds of his readers by the most

unsparing iteration. He repeats it ten times over, as substantive or

verb, in six verses.[301] His object is to turn our attention to his

Gospel, and to this distinguishing feature of it--its being from

beginning to end a Gospel of _witness_. This witness he declares to be

fivefold. (1) The witness of the Spirit, of which the fourth Gospel is

pre-eminently full. (2) The witness of the Divine Humanity, of the

God-Man who is not man deified, but God humanified. This verse is no

doubt partly polemical, against heretics of the day, who would clip

the great picture of the Gospel, and force it into the petty frame of

their theory. This is He (the Apostle urges) who came on the stage of

the world's and the Church's history[302] as the Messiah, under the

condition, so to speak, of water and blood;[303] bringing with Him,

accompanied by, not the water only, but the water and the blood.[304]

Cerinthus separated the Christ, the divine Æon, from Jesus the holy

but mortal man. The two, the divine potency and the human existence,

met at the waters of Jordan, on the day of the Baptism, when the

Christ united Himself to Jesus. But the union was brief and

unessential. Before the crucifixion, the divine ideal Christ withdrew.

The man suffered. The impassible immortal potency was far away in

heaven. St. John denies the fortuitous juxta-position of two

accidentally-united existences. We worship one Lord Jesus Christ,

attested not only by Baptism in Jordan, the witness of water, but by

the death on Calvary, the witness of blood. He came by water and

blood, as the means by which His office was manifested; but with the

water and with the blood, as the sphere in which He exercises that

office. When we turn to the Gospel, and look at the pierced side, we

read of blood and water, the order of actual history and physiological

fact. But here St. John takes the ideal, mystical, sacramental order,

water and blood--cleansing and redemption--and the sacraments which

perpetually symbolise and convey them. Thus we have Spirit, water,

blood. Three are they who are ever witnessing.[305] These are three

great centres round which St. John's Gospel turns.[306] These are the

three genuine witnesses, the trinity of witness, the shadow of the

Trinity in heaven. (3) Again the fourth Gospel is a Gospel of human

witness, a tissue woven out of many lines of human attestation. It

records the cries of human souls overheard and noted down at the

supreme crisis-moment of life, from the Baptist, Philip, and

Nathanael, to the everlasting spontaneous creed of Christendom on its

knees before Jesus, the cry of Thomas ever rushing molten from a heart

of fire--"my Lord and my God." (4) But if we receive, as we assuredly

must and do receive, the overpowering and soul-subduing mass of

attesting human evidence, how much more must we receive the Divine

witness, the witness of God so conspicuously exhibited in the Gospel

of St. John! "The witness of God is greater, because _this_" (even the

history in the pages to which he adverts) "is the witness; because" (I

say with triumphant reiteration) "He hath witnessed concerning His

Son."[307] This witness of God in the last Gospel is given in four

forms--by Scripture,[308] by the Father,[309] by the Son Himself,[310]

by His works.[311] (5) This great volume of witness is consummated and

brought home by another. He who not merely coldly assents to the word

of Christ, but lifts the whole burden of his belief on to the Son of

God,[312] hath the witness in him. That which was logical and external

becomes internal and experimental.

In this ever-memorable passage, all scholars know that an

interpolation has taken place. The words--"in heaven the Father, the

Word, and the Holy Ghost; and these three are one. And there are three

that bear witness in earth"--are a gloss. A great sentence of one of

the first of critics may well reassure any weak believers who dread

the candour of Christian criticism, or suppose that it has impaired

the evidence for the great dogma of the Trinity. "If the fourth

century knew that text, let it come in, in God's name; but if that age

did not know it, then Arianism in its height was beaten down without

the help of that verse; and, let the _fact_ prove as it will, the

_doctrine_ is unshaken."[313] The human material with which they have

been clamped should not blind us to the value of the heavenly jewels

which seemed to be marred by their earthly setting.

* * * * *

It is constantly said--as we think with considerable

misapprehension--that in his Epistle St. John may imply, but does not

refer directly to any particular incident in, his Gospel. It is our

conviction that St. John very specially includes the Resurrection--the

central point of the evidences of Christianity--among the things

attested by the witness of men. We propose in another discourse to

examine the Resurrection from St. John's point of view.

FOOTNOTES:

[299] δεδωκεν ἡμιν διανοιαν ἱνα γινωσκομεν κ.τ.λ. 1 John v. 20. N. T.

lexicographers give as its meaning _intelligentia_ (_einsicht_). See

Grimm. _Bretschn._, s.v. Prof. Westcott remarks that "generally nouns

which express intellectual powers are rare in St. John's writings."

But διανοια is the word by which the LXX. translate the Hebrew לֵב,

and has thus a moral and emotional tinge imparted to it. We may

compare the sense in which Aristotle uses it in his Poetics for the

cast of thought, or general sentiment. (_Poet._, vi.)

[300] ει την μαρτυριαν των ανθρωπων λαμβανομεν. 1 John v. 9.

[301] The A. V. (very unhappily) tried to minimise this reiteration by

the introduction of synonyms in four places--"bear record," "record"

(vv. 7, 10, 11), "hath testified" (ver. 9).

[302] ὁ ελθων.

[303] δι ὑδατος και αιματος.

[304] ουκ εν τω ὑδατι μονον, αλλ' εν τω ὑδατι και εν τω αιματι.

[305] τρεις εισιν οι μαρτυρουντες, ver. 7.

[306] The _Water_, John iii. 5, cf. i. 26-33, ii. 9, iii. 23, iv. 13,

v. 4, ix. 7. The _Blood_, vi. 53, 54, 56, xix. 34. The _Spirit_, vii.

39, xiv., xv., xvi., xx. 22. The water centres in _Baptism_ (iii. 5);

the blood is symbolised, exhibited, in Holy _Communion_ (vi.); the

Spirit is perpetually making them effective, and especially by the

appointed ministry (xx. 22).

[307] ὁτι αυτη εστιν ἡ μαρτυρια του Θεου, ὁτι μεμαρτυρηκεν περι του

υιου αυτου, ver. 9.

[308] v. 39, 46, etc.

[309] viii. 18.

[310] viii. 17, 18.

[311] ver. 36, x. 25.

[312] ὁ πιστευων εις τον υιον του Θεου, ver. 10. (See Bihs Ellicott on

the force of various prepositions with πιστευω. _Comment, on Pastoral

Epistles_.)

[313] Bentley. Letter of January 1st, 1717.

DISCOURSE XIII.

_THE WITNESS OF MEN_ (_APPLIED TO THE RESURRECTION_).

"If we receive the witness of men."--1 JOHN v. 9.

At an early period in the Christian Church the passage in which these

words occur, was selected as a fitting Epistle for the First Sunday

after Easter, when believers may be supposed to review the whole body

of witness to the risen Lord and to triumph in the victory of faith. A

consideration of the unity of essential principles in the narratives

of the Resurrection will afford the best illustration of the

comprehensive canon--"if we receive the witness of men."--if we

consider the unity of essential principles in the narratives of the

Resurrection, and draw the natural conclusions from them.

I.

Let us note the unity of essential principles in the narratives of the

Resurrection.

St. Matthew hastens on from Jerusalem to the appearance in Galilee.

"Behold! He goeth before you _into Galilee_," is, in some sense, the

key of the 28th chapter. St. Luke, on the other hand, speaks only of

manifestations in Jerusalem or its neighbourhood.

Now St. John's Resurrection history falls in the 20th chapter into

four pieces, with three manifestations in Jerusalem. The 21st chapter

(the appendix-chapter) also falls into four pieces, with one

manifestation to the seven disciples in Galilee.

St. John makes no profession of telling us all the appearances which

were known to the Church, or even all of which he was personally

cognisant. In the treasures of the old man's memory there were many

more which, for whatever reason, he did not write. But these distinct

continuous specimens of a permitted communing with the eternal

glorified life (supplemented on subsequent thought by another in the

last chapter) are as good as three or four hundred for the great

purpose of the Apostle. "These are written that ye might believe that

Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God."[314]

Throughout St. John's narrative every impartial reader will find

delicacy of thought, abundance of matter, minuteness of detail. He

will find something more. While he feels that he is not in cloudland

or dreamland, he will yet recognise that he walks in a land which is

wonderful, because the central figure in it is One whose name is

Wonderful. The fact is fact, and yet it is something more. For a short

time poetry and history are absolutely coincident. Here, if anywhere,

is Herder's saying true, that the fourth Gospel seems to be written

with a feather which has dropped from an angel's wing.

The unity in essential principles which has been claimed for these

narratives taken together is not a lifeless identity in details. It is

scarcely to be worked out by the dissecting-maps of elaborate harmonies.

It is not the imaginative unity which is poetry; nor the mechanical

unity, which is fabrication; nor the passionless unity, which is

commended in a police-report. It is not the thin unity of plain-song; it

is the rich, unity of dissimilar tones blended into a fugue.

This unity may be considered in two essential agreements of the four

Resurrection histories.

1. All the Evangelists agree in reticence on one point--in abstinence

from one claim.

If any of us were framing for himself a body of such evidence for the

Resurrection as should almost extort acquiescence, he would assuredly

insist that the Lord should have been seen and recognised after the

Resurrection by miscellaneous crowds--or, at the very least, by hostile

individuals. Not only by a tender Mary Magdalene, an impulsive Peter, a

rapt John, a Thomas through all his unbelief nervously anxious to be

convinced. Let Him be seen by Pilate, by Caiaphas, by some of the Roman

soldiers, of the priests, of the Jewish populace. Certainly, if the

Evangelists had simply aimed at effective presentation of evidence, they

would have put forward statements of this kind.

But the apostolic principle--the apostolic canon of Resurrection

evidence--was very different. St. Luke has preserved it for us, as it

is given by St. Peter. "Him God raised up the third day, and gave Him

to be made manifest after He rose again from the dead, not to all the

people, but unto witnesses chosen before of God, even to us."[315] He

shall, indeed, appear again to all the people, to every eye; but that

shall be at the great Advent. St. John, with his ideal tenderness, has

preserved a word of Jesus, which gives us St. Peter's canon of

Resurrection evidence, in a lovelier and more spiritual form. Christ

as He rose at Easter should be visible, but only to the eye of love,

only to the eye which life fills with tears and heaven with

light--"yet a little while, and the world seeth Me no more; but ye see

Me ... He that loveth Me shall be loved of My Father, and I will

manifest Myself to Him."[316] Round that ideal canon St. John's

Resurrection-history is twined with undying tendrils. Those words may

be written by us with our softest pencils over the 20th and 21st

chapters of the fourth Gospel. There is--very possibly there can

be--under our present human conditions, no manifestation of Him who

was dead and now liveth, except to belief, or to that kind of doubt

which springs from love.

That which is true of St. John is true of all the Evangelists.

They take that Gospel, which is the life of their life. They bare its

bosom to the stab of Celsus,[317] to the bitter sneer plagiarised by

Renan--"why did He not appear to all, to His judges and enemies? Why

only to one excitable woman, and a circle of His initiated?" "The

hallucination of a hysterical woman endowed Christendom with a risen

God."[318] An apocryphal Gospel unconsciously violates this apostolic,

or rather divine canon, by stating that Jesus gave His grave-clothes

to one of the High Priest's servants.[319] There was every reason but

one why St. John and the other Evangelists _should have_ narrated such

stories. There was only one reason why they _should not_, but that was

all-sufficient. Their Master was the Truth as well as the Life. They

dared not lie.

Here, then, is one essential accordance in the narratives of the

Resurrection. They record no appearances of Jesus to enemies or to

unbelievers.

2. A second unity of essential principle will be found in the

impression produced upon the witnesses.

There was, indeed, a moment of terror at the sepulchre, when they had

seen the angel clothed in the long white garment. "They trembled, and

were amazed; neither said they anything to any man; for they were

afraid." So writes St. Mark.[320] And no such word ever formed the

close of a Gospel! On the Easter Sunday evening there was another

moment when they were "terrified and affrighted, and supposed that

they had seen a spirit."[321] But this passes away like a shadow. For

man, the Risen Jesus turns doubt into faith, faith into joy. For

woman, He turns sorrow into joy. From the sacred wounds joy rains over

into their souls. "He showed them His hands and His feet ... while

they yet believed not for joy and wondered." "He showed unto them His

hands and His side. Then were the disciples glad when they saw the

Lord."[322] Each face of those who beheld Him wore after that a smile

through all tears and forms of death. "Come," cried the great Swedish

singer, gazing upon the dead face of a holy friend, "come and see this

great sight. Here is a woman who has seen Christ." Many of us know

what she meant, for we too have looked upon those dear to us who have

seen Christ. Over all the awful stillness--under all the cold

whiteness as of snow or marble--that strange soft light, that subdued

radiance, what shall we call it? wonder, love, sweetness, pardon,

purity, rest, worship, discovery. The poor face often dimmed with

tears, tears of penitence, of pain, of sorrow, some perhaps which we

caused to flow, is looking upon a great sight. Of such the beautiful

text is true, written by a sacred poet in a language of which so many

verbs are pictures. "They looked unto Him, and _were lightened_."[323]

That meeting of lights without a name it is which makes up what angels

call joy. There remained some of that light on all who had seen the

Risen Lord. Each might say--"have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord?"

This effect, like every effect, had a cause.

Scripture implies in the Risen Jesus a form with all heaviness and

suffering lifted off it--with the glory, freshness, elasticity, of the

new life, overflowing with beauty and power. He had a voice with some of

the pathos of affection, making its sweet concession to human

sensibility: saying, "Mary," "Thomas," "Simon, son of Jonas." He had a

presence at once so majestic that they durst not question Him, yet so

full of magnetic attraction that Magdalene clings to His feet, and Peter

flings himself into the waters when he is sure that it is the Lord.[324]

Now let it be remarked that this consideration entirely disposes of

that afterthought of critical ingenuity which has taken the place of

the base old Jewish theory--"His disciples came by night, and stole

Him away."[325] That theory, indeed, has been blown into space by

Christian apologetics. And now not a few are turning to the solution

that He did not really die upon the cross, but was taken down alive.

There are other, and more than sufficient refutations. One from the

character of the august Sufferer, who would not have deigned to

receive adoration upon false pretences. One from the minute

observation by St. John of the physiological effect of the thrust of

the soldier's lance, to which he also reverts in the context.

But here, we only ask what effect the appearance of the Saviour among

His disciples, supposing that He had not died, must unquestionably

have had.

He would only have been taken down from the cross something more than

thirty hours. His brow punctured with the crown of thorns; the wounds in

hands, feet, and side, yet unhealed; the back raw and torn with

scourges; the frame cramped by the frightful tension of six long

hours--a lacerated and shattered man, awakened to agony by the coolness

of the sepulchre and by the pungency of the spices; a spectral,

trembling, fevered, lamed, skulking thing--could that have seemed the

Prince of Life, the Lord of Glory, the Bright and Morning Star? Those

who had seen Him in Gethsemane and on the cross, and then on Easter, and

during the forty days, can scarcely speak of His Resurrection without

using language which attains to more than lyrical elevation. Think of

St. Peter's anthemlike burst. "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord

Jesus Christ, who hath begotten us again to a lively hope, by the

Resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead." Think of the words which

St. John heard Him utter. "I am the First and the Living, and behold! I

became dead, and I am, living unto the ages of ages."[326]

Let us, then, fix our attention upon the unity of all the Resurrection

narratives in these two essential principles. (1) The appearances of

the Risen Lord to belief and love only. (2) The impression common to

all the narrators of glory on His part, of joy on theirs.

We shall be ready to believe that this was part of the great body of

proof which was in the Apostle's mind, when pointing to the Gospel

with which this Epistle was associated, he wrote of this human but

most convincing testimony--"if we receive," as assuredly we do, "the

witness of men"--of evangelists among the number.

II.

Too often such discussions as these end unpractically enough. Too often

"When the critic has done his best,

The pearl of price at reason's test

On the Professor's lecture table

Lies, dust and ashes levigable."

But, after all, we may well ask: can we afford to dispense with this

well-balanced probability? Is it well for us to face life and death

without taking it, in some form, into the account?

Now at the present moment, it may safely be said that, for the best

and noblest intellects imbued with the modern philosophy, as for the

best and noblest of old who were imbued with the ancient philosophy,

external to Christian revelation, immortality is still, as before, a

fair chance, a beautiful "perhaps," a splendid possibility.

Evolutionism is growing and maturing somewhere another Butler, who

will write in another, and possibly more satisfying chapter, than that

least convincing of any in the _Analogy_--"of a Future State."

What has Darwinism to say on the matter?

Much. Natural selection seems to be a pitiless worker; its instrument

is _death_. But, when we broaden our survey, the sum-total of the

result is everywhere advance--what is mainly worthy of notice, in man

the advance of goodness and virtue. For of goodness, as of freedom,

"The battle once begun

Though baffled oft, is always won."

Humanity has had to travel thousands of miles, inch by inch, towards

the light. We have made such progress that we can see that in time,

relatively short, we shall be in noonday. After long ages of strife,

of victory for hard hearts and strong sinews, goodness begins to wipe

away the sweat of agony from her brow; and will stand, sweet, smiling,

triumphant in the world. A gracious life is free for man; generation

after generation a softer ideal stands before us, and we can conceive

a day when "the meek shall inherit the earth." Do not say that

evolution, if proved _à outrance_, brutalises man. Far from it. It

lifts him from below out of the brute creation. What theology calls

original sin, modern philosophy the brute inheritance--the ape, and

the goat, and the tiger--is dying out of man. The perfecting of human

nature and of human society stands out as the goal of creation. In a

sense, all creation waits for the manifestation of the sons of God.

Nor need the true Darwinian necessarily fear materialism. "Livers

secrete bile--brains secrete thought," is smart and plausible, but it

is shallow. Brain and thought are, no doubt, connected--but the

connection is of simultaneousness, of two things in concordance

indeed, but not related as cause and effect. If cerebral physiology

speaks of annihilation when the brain is destroyed, she speaks

ignorantly and without a brief.

The greatest thinkers in the Natural Religion department of the new

philosophy seem then to be very much in the same position as those in

the same department of the old. For immortality there is a sublime

probability. With man, and man's advance in goodness and virtue as the

goal of creation, who shall say that the thing so long provided for,

the goal of creation, is likely to perish? Annihilation is a

hypothesis; immortality is a hypothesis. But immortality is the more

likely as well as the more beautiful of the two. We may believe in it,

not as a thing demonstrated, but as an act of faith that "God will not

put us to permanent intellectual confusion."[327]

But we may well ask whether it is wise and well to refuse to intrench

this probability behind another. Is it likely that He who has so much

care for us as to make us the goal of a drama a million times more

complex than our fathers dreamed of; who lets us see that He has not

removed us out of his sight; will leave Himself, and with Himself our

hopes, without witness in history? History is especially human; human

evidence the branch of moral science of which man is master--for man

is the best interpreter of man. The primary axiom of family, of

social, of legal, of moral life, is, that there is a kind and degree

of human evidence which we ought not to refuse; that if credulity is

voracious in belief, incredulity is no less voracious in negation;

that if there is a credulity which is simple, there is an incredulity

which is unreasonable and perilous. Is it then safe to grope for the

keys of death in darkness, and turn from the hand that holds them out;

to face the ugly realities of the pit with less consolation than is

the portion of our inheritance in the faith of Christ?

"The disciples," John tells us, "went away again unto their own home.

But Mary was standing without at the sepulchre weeping."[328] Weeping!

What else is possible while we are _outside_, while we _stand_--what

else until we _stoop_ down from our proud grief to the sepulchre,

humble our speculative pride, and condescend to gaze at the death of

Jesus face to face? When we do so, we forget the hundred voices that

tell us that the Resurrection is partly invented, partly imagined,

partly ideally true. We may not see angels in white, nor hear their

"why weepest thou?" But assuredly we shall hear a sweeter voice, and a

stronger than theirs; and our name will be on it, and His name will

rush to our lips in the language most expressive to us--as Mary said

unto Him in _Hebrew_,[329] Rabboni. Then we shall find that the grey

of morning is passing; that the thin thread of scarlet upon the

distant hills is deepening into dawn; that in that world where Christ

is the dominant law the ruling principle is not natural selection

which works through death, but supernatural selection which works

through life; that "because He lives, we shall live also."[330]

With the reception of the witness of men then, and among them of such

men as the writer of the fourth Gospel, all follows. For Christ,

"Earth breaks up--time drops away;--

In flows Heaven with its new day

Of endless life, when He who trod,

Very Man and very God,

This earth in weakness, shame, and pain,

Dying the death whose signs remain

Up yonder on the accursëd tree;

Shall come again, no more to be

Of captivity the thrall--

But the true God all in all,

King of kings, and Lord of lords,

As His servant John received the words--

'I died, and live for evermore.'"

For us there comes the hope in Paradise--the connection with the

living dead--the pulsation through the isthmus of the Church, from sea

to sea, from us to them--the tears not without smiles as we think of

the long summer-day when Christ who is our life shall appear--the

manifestation of the sons of God, when "them that sleep in Jesus will

God bring with Him." Our resurrection shall be a fact of history,

because His is a fact of history; and we receive it as such--partly

from the reasonable motive of reasonable human belief on sufficient

evidence for practical conviction.

All the long chain of manifold witness to Christ is consummated and

crowned when it passes into the inner world of the individual life.

"He that believeth on the Son of God, hath the witness in him,"

_i.e._, in himself![331] Correlative to this, stands a terrible truth.

He of whom we must conceive that he believes not God,[332] has made

Him a liar--nothing less, because his time for receiving Christ came

and went, and with this crisis his unbelief stands a completed present

act as the result of his past;[333] unbelief stretching over to the

completed witness of God concerning His Son;[334]--human unbelief

co-extensive with divine witness.

But that sweet witness in a man's self is not merely in books or

syllogisms. It is the creed of a living soul. It lies folded within a

man's heart, and never dies--part of the great principle of

victory[335] fought and won over again in each true life[336]--until

the man dies, and ceasing then only because he sees that which is the

object of its witness.

FOOTNOTES:

[314] The writer is entirely persuaded that St. John in chap. xx. 30,

31, refers to the _Resurrection_ "signs," and not to miracles generally.

[315] Acts x. 41, 42. It is to be regretted that the R. V. has not

boldly given us such an arrangement of the words in this important

passage as would at once connect "made manifest" with "after He rose

again from the dead," and avoid making the Apostle state that the

chosen witnesses ate and drank with Christ after the Resurrection. St.

Peter mentions that particular characteristic of the Apostles which

made them judges not to be gainsayed of the identity of the Risen One

with Him with whom they used to eat and drink.

[316] John xiv. 19-21.

[317] Τις τουτο ειδεν; γυνη παροιστρος, και ει τις αλλος των εκ της

αυτης γοητειας. Ὁτε μεν ηπιστειτο εν σωματι πασιν ανιδην (freely,

without restraint) εκηρυττεν, ὁτε δε πιστιν αν ισχυραν παρειχεν εκ

νεκρων αναστας ἑνι μονω γυναιω και τοις ἑαυτου θεασιωταις (adepts,

initiated) κρυβδην παρεφαινετω ... εχρην ειπερ οντως θειαν δυναμιν

εκφηναι ηθελεν ὁ Ιησους αυτοις τοις επηρεασι και τω καταδικασαντι και

ὁλως πασιν οφθηναι. [Celsus, _ap. Orig._, 2, 55, 59, 70, 63.] The

passage is given in Rudolph Anger's invaluable _Synopsis Evang. cum

locis qui supersunt parallelis litterarum et traditionum Evang.

Irenæo. antiquiorum._ p. 254.

[318] γυνη παροιστρος, Celsus. "Moments sacrés ou la passion d'une

hallucinée donne au monde un Dieu ressuscité." Renan, _Vie de Jesus_,

434.

[319] "Post Resurrectionem ... Dominus quum dedisset sindonem servo

sacerdotis"--Evang. ad Heb.--Matt. xxvii. 59.--R. Anger, _Synopsis

Evang._, 288.

[320] Mark xvi. 8.

[321] Luke xxiv. 37.

[322] Luke xxiv. 41; John xx. 20.

[323] Ps. xxxiv. 15.

[324] John xxi. 12, cf. 7.

[325] Matt. xxviii. 13.

[326] 1 Peter i. 3, 4; Apoc. i. 17, 18.

[327] See _The Destiny of Man, viewed in the light of his origin_, by

John Fiske, especially the three remarkable chapters pp. 96-119.

[328] John xx. 10, 11.

[329] The word Ἑβραιστι had unfortunately dropped out of the T. R.

John xx. 16.

[330] John xiv. 19.

[331] εν ἑαυτω, ver. 10.

[332] ὁ μη πιστευων τω Θεω, _Ibid._

[333] ου πεπιστευκεν, _Ibid._

[334] εις την μαρτυριαν ἡν μεμαρτυρηκεν ὁ Θεος περι του υιου αυτου.

_Ibid._

[335] παν το γεγεννημενον εκ του Θεου νικα τον κοσμον. ver. 4.

[336] With the neuter in ver. 4, contrast the individualising

masculine in ver. 5, τις εστιν ὁ νικων.

DISCOURSE XIV.

_SIN UNTO DEATH._

"There is a sin unto death."--1 JOHN v. 17.

The Church has ever spoken of seven deadly sins. Here is the ugly

catalogue. Pride, covetousness, lust, envy, gluttony, hatred, sloth.

Many of us pray often "from fornication and all other deadly sin, Good

Lord deliver us." This language rightly understood is sound and true;

yet, without careful thought, the term may lead us into two errors.

1. On hearing of _deadly_ sin we are apt instinctively to oppose it to

_venial_. But we cannot define by any _quantitative_ test what venial

sin may be for any given soul. To do that we must know the complete

history of each soul; and the complete genealogy, conception, birth,

and autobiography of each sin. Men catch at the term _venial_ because

they love to minimise a thing so tremendous as sin. The world sides

with the casuists whom it satirises; and speaks of a "white lie," of a

foible, of an inaccuracy, when "the 'white lie' may be that of St.

Peter, the foible that of David, and the inaccuracy that of Ananias!"

2. There is a second mistake into which we often fall in speaking of

deadly sin. Our imagination nearly always assumes some one definite

outward act; some single individual sin. This may partly be due to a

seemingly slight mistranslation in the text. It should not run "there

is _a_ sin," but "there is sin unto" (_i.e._, in the direction of,

towards) "death."

The text means something deeper and further-reaching than any single

sin, deadly though it may be justly called.

The author of the fourth Gospel learned a whole mystic language from the

life of Jesus. Death, in the great Master's vocabulary, was more than a

single action. It was again wholly different from bodily death by the

visitation of God. There are two realms for man's soul co-extensive with

the universe and with itself. One which leads towards God is called

_Life_; one which leads from Him is called _Death_. There is a radiant

passage by which the soul is translated from the death which is death

indeed, to the life which is life indeed. There is another passage by

which we pass from life to death; _i.e._, fall back towards _spiritual_

(which is not necessarily eternal) death.

There is then a general condition and contexture; there is an atmosphere

and position of soul in which the true life flickers, and is on the way

to death. One who visited an island on the coast of Scotland has told

how he found in a valley open to the spray of the north-west ocean a

clump of fir trees. For a time they grew well, until they became high

enough to catch the prevalent blast. They were still standing, but had

taken a fixed set, and were reddened as if singed by the breath of fire.

The island glen might be "swept on starry nights by balms of spring;"

the summer sun as it sank might touch the poor stems with a momentary

radiance. The trees were still _living,_ but only with that cortical

vitality which is the tree's death in life. Their doom was evident; they

could have but a few more seasons. If the traveller cared some years

hence to visit that islet set in stormy waters, he would find the firs

blanched like a skeleton's bones. Nothing remained for them but the sure

fall, and the fated rottenness.

The analogy indeed is not complete. The tree in such surroundings

_must_ die; it can make for itself no new condition of existence; it

can hear no sweet question on the breeze that washes through the

grove, "why will ye die?" It cannot look upward--as it is scourged by

the driving spray, and tormented by the fierce wind--and cry, "O God

of my life, give me life." It has no will; it cannot transplant

itself. But the human tree can root itself in a happier place. Some

divine spring may clothe it with green again. As it was passing from

life toward death, so by the grace of God in prayers and sacraments,

through penitence and faith, it may pass from death to life.

The Church then is not wrong when she speaks of "deadly sin." The

number _seven_ is not merely a mystic fancy. But the _seven_ "deadly

sins" are seven attributes of the whole character; seven master-ideas;

seven general conditions of a human soul alienated from God; seven

forms of aversion from true life, and of reversion to true death. The

style of St. John has often been called "senile;" it certainly has the

oracular and sententious quietude of old age in its almost lapidary

repose. Yet a terrible light sometimes leaps from its simple and

stately lines. Are there not a hundred hearts among us who know that

as years pass they are drifting further and further from Him who is

the Life? Will they not allow that St. John was right when, looking

round the range of the Church, he asserted that there is such a thing

as "sin unto death?"

It may be useful to take that one of the seven deadly sins which

people are the most surprised to find in the list.

How and why is sloth deadly sin?

There is a distinction between sloth as _vice_ and sloth as _sin_. The

deadly _sin_ of _sloth_ often exists where the _vice_ has no place.

The sleepy music of Thomson's "Castle of Indolence" does not describe

the slumber of the spiritual sluggard. Spiritual sloth is want of care

and of love for all things in the spiritual order. Its conceptions are

shallow and hasty. For it the Church is a department of the civil

service; her worship and rites are submitted to, as one submits to a

minor surgical operation. Prayer is the waste of a few minutes daily

in concession to a sentiment which it might require trouble to

eradicate. For the slothful Christian, saints are incorrigibly stupid;

martyrs incorrigibly obstinate; clergymen incorrigibly professional;

missionaries incorrigibly restless; sisterhoods incorrigibly tender;

white lips that can just whisper Jesus incorrigibly awful. For the

slothful, God, Christ, death, judgment have no real significance. The

Atonement is a plank far away to be clutched by dying fingers in the

article of death, that we may gurgle out "yes," when asked "are you

happy"? Hell is an ugly word, Heaven a beautiful one which means a sky

or an Utopia. Apathy in all spiritual thought, languor in every work

of God, fear of injudicious and expensive zeal; secret dislike of

those whose fervour puts us to shame, and a miserable adroitness in

keeping out of their way; such are the signs of the spirit of sloth.

And with this a long series of sins of omission--"slumbering and

sleeping while the Bridegroom tarries"--"unprofitable servants."

We have said that the _vice_ of sloth is generally distinct from the

_sin_. There is, however, one day of the week on which the sin is apt

to wear the drowsy features of the _vice--Sunday_. If there is any day

on which we might be supposed to do something towards the spiritual

world it must be Sunday. Yet what have any of us done for God on any

Sunday? Probably we can scarcely tell. We slept late, we lingered over

our dressing, we never thought of Holy Communion; after Church (if we

went there) we loitered with friends; we lounged in the Park; we

whiled away an hour at lunch; we turned over a novel, with secret

dislike of the benevolent arrangements which give the postman some

rest. Such have been in the main our past Sundays. Such will be those

which remain, more or fewer, till the arrival of a date written in a

calendar which eye hath not seen. The last evening of the closing year

is called by an old poet, "the twilight of two years, nor past, nor

next." What shall we call the last Sunday of our year of life?

Turn to the first chapter of St. Mark. Think of that day of our Lord's

ministry which is recorded more fully than any other. What a day! First

that teaching in the Synagogue, when men "were astonished," not at His

volubility, but at His "doctrine," drawn from depths of thought. Then

the awful meeting with the powers of the world unseen. Next the

utterance of the words in the sick room which renovated the fevered

frame. Afterwards an interval for the simple festival of home. And then

we see the sin, the sorrow, the sufferings crowded at the door. A few

hours more, while yet there is but the pale dawn before the meteor

sunrise of Syria, He rises from sleep to plunge His wearied brow in the

dews of prayer. And finally the intrusion of others upon that sacred

solitude, and the work of preaching, helping, pitying, healing closes in

upon Him again with a circle which is of steel, because it is duty--of

delight, because it is love. O the divine monotony of one of those

golden days of God upon earth! And yet we are offended because He who is

the same for ever, sends from heaven that message with its terrible

plainness--"because thou art lukewarm, I will spue thee out of my

mouth." We are angry that the Church classes sloth as deadly sin, when

the Church's Master has said--"thou wicked and _slothful_ servant."

DISCOURSE XV.

_THE TERRIBLE TRUISM WHICH HAS NO EXCEPTION._

"All unrighteousness is sin: and there is a sin not unto death."--

1 JOHN v. 17.

Let us begin by detaching awhile from its context this oracular

utterance: "all unrighteousness is sin." Is this true universally, or

is it not?

A clear consistent answer is necessary, because a strange form of the

doctrine of indulgences (long whispered in the ears) has lately been

proclaimed from the housetops, with a considerable measure of apparent

acceptance.

Here is the singular dispensation from St. John's rigorous canon to

which we refer.

Three such indulgences have been accorded at various times to certain

favoured classes or persons. (1) "The moral law does not exist for the

elect." This was the doctrine of certain Gnostics in St. John's day;

of certain fanatics in every age. (2) "Things absolutely forbidden to

the mass of mankind, are allowable for people of commanding rank."

Accommodating Prelates, and accommodating Reformers have left the

burden of defending these ignoble concessions to future generations.

(3) A yet baser dispensation has been freely given by very vulgar

casuists. "The chosen of Fortune"--the men at whose magic touch every

stock seems to rise--may be allowed unusual forms of enjoying the

unusual success which has crowned their career.

Such are, or such _were_, the dispensations from St. John's canon

permitted to themselves, or to others, by the elect of _Heaven_, by

the elect of _station_, and by the elect of _fortune_.

Another election hath obtained the perilous exception now--the

election of _genius_. Those who endow the world with music, with art,

with romance, with poetry, are entitled to the reversion. "All

unrighteousness is sin"--except for _them_. (1) The indulgence is no

longer valid for those who affect intimacy with heaven (partly perhaps

because it is suspected that there is no heaven to be intimate with).

(2) The indulgence is not extended to the men who apparently rule over

nations, since it has been discovered that nations rule over them. (3)

It is not accorded to the constructors of fortunes; they are too many,

and too uninteresting, though possibly figures could be conceived

almost capable of buying it. But (generally speaking) men of these

three classes must pace along the dust of the narrow road by the

signpost of the law, if they would escape the censure of society.

For genius alone there is no such inconvenient restriction. Many men, of

course, deliberately prefer the "primrose path," but they can no more

avoid indignant hisses by the way than they can extinguish the

"everlasting bonfire" at the awful close of their journey. With the man

of genius it seems that it is otherwise. He shall "walk in the ways of

his heart, and in the sight of his eyes;" but, "for all these things"

the tribunals of certain schools of a delicate criticism (delicate

criticism can be so indelicate!) will never allow him "to be brought

into judgment." Some literary oracles, biographers, or reviewers, are

not content to keep a reverential silence, and to murmur a secret

prayer. They will drag into light the saddest, the meanest, the most

selfish doings of genius. Not the least service to his generation, and

to English literature, of the true poet and critic lately taken from

us,[337] was the superb scorn, the exquisite wit, with which his

indignant purity transfixed such doctrines. A strange winged thing, no

doubt, genius sometimes is; alternately beating the abyss with splendid

pinions, and eating dust which is the "serpent's meat." But for all

that, we cannot see with the critic when he tries to prove that the

reptile's crawling is part of the angel's flight; and the dust on which

he grovels one with the infinite purity of the azure distances.

The arguments of the apologists for moral eccentricity of genius may be

thus summed up:--The man of genius bestows upon humanity gifts which are

on a different line from any other. He enriches it on the side where it

is poorest; the side of the Ideal. But the very temperament in virtue of

which a man is capable of such transcendent work makes him passionate

and capricious. To be _imaginative_ is to be _exceptional_; and these

exceptional beings live for mankind rather than for themselves. When

their conduct comes to be discussed, the only question is whether that

conduct was adapted to forward the superb self-development which is of

such inestimable value to the world. If the gratification of any desire

was necessary for that self-development, genius itself being the judge,

the cause is ended. In winning that gratification hearts may be broken,

souls defiled, lives wrecked. The daintiest songs of the man of genius

may rise to the accompaniment of domestic sobs, and the music which he

seems to warble at the gates of heaven may be trilled over the white

upturned face of one who has died in misery. What matter! Morality is so

icy, and so intolerant; its doctrines have the ungentlemanlike rigour of

the Athanasian Creed. Genius breaks hearts with such supreme

gracefulness, such perfect wit, that they are arrant Philistines who

refuse to smile.

We who have the text full in our mind answer all this in the words of

the old man of Ephesus. For all that angel-softness which he learned

from the heart of Christ, his voice is as strong as it is sweet and

calm. Over all the storm of passion, over all the babble of successive

sophistries, clear and eternal it rings out--"_all_ unrighteousness is

sin." To which the apologist, little abashed, replies--"of course we

all know _that_--quite true as a general rule, but then men of genius

have bought a splendid dispensation by paying a splendid price, and so

_their_ inconsistencies are not sin."

There are two assumptions at the root of this apology for the

aberrations of genius which should be examined. (1) The temperament of

men of genius is held to constitute an excuse from which there is no

appeal. Such men indeed are sometimes not slow to put forward this

plea for themselves. No doubt there are trials peculiar to every

temperament. Those of men of genius are probably very great. They are

children of the sunshine and of the storm; the grey monotony of

ordinary life is distasteful to them. Things which others find it easy

to accept convulse their sensitive organisation. Many can produce

their finest works only on condition of being sheltered where no

bills shall find their way by the post; where no sound, not even the

crowing of cocks, shall break the haunted silence. If the letter comes

in one case, and if the cock crows in the other, the first may

possibly never be remembered, but the second is never forgotten.

For this, as for every other form of human temperament--that of the

dunce, as well as of the genius--allowance must in truth be made. In

that one of the lives of the English Poets, where the great moralist

has gone nearest to making concessions to this fallacy of temperament,

he utters this just warning. "No wise man will easily presume to say,

had I been in Savage's condition I should have lived better than

Savage." But we must not bring in the temperament of the man of genius

as the standard of his conduct unless we are prepared to admit the

same standard in every other case. God is no respecter of persons. For

each, conscience is of the same texture, law of the same material. As

all have the same cross of infinite mercy, the same judgment of

perfect impartiality, so have they the same law of inexorable _duty_.

(2) The necessary _disorder_ and _feverishness_ of high literary and

artistic inspiration is a _second_ postulate of the pleas to which I

refer. But, is it true that disorder _creates inspiration_; or is a

condition of it?

All great work is ordered work; and in producing it the faculties must

be exercised harmoniously and with order. True inspiration, therefore,

should not be caricatured into a flushed and dishevelled thing. Labour

always precedes it. It has been prepared for by education. And that

education would have been painful but for the glorious efflorescence

of materials collected and assimilated, which is the compensation for

any toil. The very dissatisfaction with its own performances, the

result of the lofty ideal which is inseparable from genius, is at once

a stimulus and a balm. The man of genius apparently writes, or paints,

as the birds sing, or as the spring colours the flowers; but his

subject has long possessed his mind, and the inspiration is the child

of thought and of ordered labour. Destroying the peace of one's own

family or of another's, being flushed with the preoccupation of guilty

passion, will not accelerate, but retard the advent of those happy

moments which are not without reason called creative. Thus, the

inspiration of genius is akin to the inspiration of prophecy. The

prophet tutored himself by a fitting education. He became assimilated

to the noble things in the future which he foresaw. Isaiah's heart

grew royal; his style wore the majesty of a king, before he sang the

King of sorrow with His infinite pathos, and the King of righteousness

with His infinite glory. Many prophets attuned their spirits by

listening to such music as lulls, not inflames passion. Others walked

where "beauty born of murmuring sound" might pass into their strain.

Think of Ezekiel by the river of Chebar, with the soft sweep of waters

in his ear, and their cool breath upon his cheek. Think of St. John

with the shaft of light from heaven's opened door upon his upturned

brow, and the boom of the Ægean upon the rocks of Patmos around him.

"The note of the heathen seer" (said the greatest preacher of the

Greek Church) "is to be contorted, constrained, excited, like a

maniac; the note of a prophet is to be wakeful, self-possessed, nobly

self-conscious."[338] We may apply this test to the distinction

between genius, and the dissipated affectation of genius.

Let us then refuse our assent to a doctrine of indulgences applied to

genius on the ground of _temperament_ or of literary and artistic

_inspiration_. "Why," we are often asked, "why force your narrow

judgment upon an angry or a laughing world?" What have you to do with

the conduct of gifted men? Genius means exuberance. Why "blame the

Niagara River" because it will not assume the pace and manner of "a

Dutch canal"? Never indeed should we force that judgment upon any,

unless they force it upon us. Let us avoid as far as we may posthumous

gossip over the grave of genius. It is an unwholesome curiosity which

rewards the blackbird for that bubbling song of ecstasy in the

thicket, by gloating upon the ugly worm which he swallows greedily

after the shower. The pen or pencil has dropped from the cold fingers.

After all its thought and sin, after all its toil and agony, the soul

is with its Judge. Let the painter of the lovely picture, the writer

of the deathless words, be for us like the priest. The washing of

regeneration is no less wrought through the unworthy minister; the

precious gift is no less conveyed when a polluted hand has broken the

bread and blessed the cup. But if we are forced to speak, let us

refuse to accept an _ex post facto_ morality invented to excuse a

worthless absolution. Especially so when the most sacred of all rights

is concerned. It is not enough to say that a man of genius dissents

from the received standard of conduct. He cannot make fugitive

inclination the only principle of a connection which he promised to

recognise as paramount. A passage in the Psalms,[339] has been called

"The catechism of Heaven." "The catechism of Fame" differs from "the

catechism of Heaven." "Who shall ascend unto the hill of Fame?" "He

that possesses genius." "Who shall ascend unto the hill of the Lord?"

"He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; He that hath sworn to his

neighbour and disappointeth him not" (or disappointeth _her_ not)

"though it were to his own hindrance"--aye, to the hindrance of his

self-development. Strange that the rough Hebrew should still have to

teach us chivalry as well as religion! In St. John's Epistle we find

the two great axioms about sin, in its two essential aspects. "Sin is

the transgression of the law:" there is its aspect chiefly _Godward_.

"All unrighteousness" (mainly injustice, denial of the rights of

others) "is sin:" there is its aspect chiefly _manward_.

Yes, the principle of the text is rigid, inexorable, eternal. Nothing

can make its way out of those terrible meshes. It is without favour,

without exception. It gives no dispensation, and proclaims no

indulgences, to the man of genius, or to any other. If it were

otherwise, the righteous God, the Author of creation and redemption,

would be dethroned. And _that_ is a graver thing than to dethrone even

the author of "Queen Mab," and of "The Epipsychidion." Here is the

jurisprudence of the "great white Throne" summed up in four words:

"_all unrighteousness is sin_."

So far, in the last discourse, and in this, we have ventured to

isolate these two great principles from their context. But this

process is always attended with peculiar loss in St. John's writings.

And as some may think perhaps that the promise[340] just succeeding is

falsified we must here run the risk of bringing in another thread of

thought. Yet indeed the whole paragraph[341] has its source in an

intense faith in the _efficacy of prayer_, specially as exercised in

_intercessory prayer_.

(1) The efficacy of prayer.[342] This is the very sign of contrast with,

of opposition to, the modern spirit, which is the negation of _prayer_.

What is the real value of prayer?

Very little, says the modern spirit. Prayer is the stimulant, the

Dutch courage of the moral world. Prayer is a power, not because it

_is_ efficacious, but because it is _believed_ to be so.

A modern Rabbi, with nothing of his Judaism left but a rabid antipathy

to the Founder of the Church, guided by Spinoza and Kant, has turned

fiercely upon the Lord's prayer.[343] He takes those petitions which

stand alone among the liturgies of earth in being capable of being

translated into every language. He cuts off one pearl after another from

the string. Let us look at two specimens. "Our Father which art in

Heaven." Heaven! the very name has a breath of magic, a suggestion of

beauty, of grandeur, of purity in it. It moves us as nothing else can.

We instinctively lift our heads; the brow grows proud of that splendid

home, and the eye is wetted with a tear and lighted with a ray, as it

looks into those depths of golden sunset which are full for the young of

the radiant mystery of life, for the old of the pathetic mystery of

death.[344] Yes, but for modern science Heaven means air, or atmosphere,

and the address itself is contradictory. "Forgive us." But surely the

guilt cannot be forgiven, except by the person against whom it is

committed. There is no other forgiveness. A mother (whose daughter went

out upon the cruel London streets) carried into execution a thought

bestowed upon her by the inexhaustible ingenuity of love. The poor woman

got her own photograph taken, and a friend managed to have copies of it

hung in several halls and haunts of infamy with these words clearly

written below--"come home, I forgive you." The tender subtlety of love

was successful at last; and the poor haggard outcast's face was touched

by her mother's lips. "But the heart of God," says this enemy of prayer,

"is not as a woman's heart." (Pardon the words, O loving Father! Thou

who hast said "Yea, she may forget, yet will I not forget thee." Pardon,

O pierced Human Love! who hast graven the name of every soul on the

palms of Thy hands with the nails of the crucifixion.) Repentance

subjectively seems a reality when mother and child meet with a burst of

passionate tears, and the polluted brow feels purified by their molten

downfall; but repentance _objectively_ is seen to be an absurdity by

every one who grasps the conception of law. The penitential Psalms may

be the _lyrics_ of repentance, the Gospel for the third Sunday after

Trinity its _idyll_, the cross its _symbol_, the wounds of Christ its

_theology_ and _inspiration_. But the course of Nature, the hard logic

of life is its refutation--the flames that burn, the waves that drown,

the machine that crushes, the society that condemns, and that neither

can, nor will forgive.

Enough, and more than enough of this. The monster of ignorance who has

never learnt a prayer, has hitherto been looked upon as one of the

saddest of sights. But there is something sadder--the monster of

over-cultivation, the wreck of schools, the priggish fanatic of

godlessness. Alas! for the nature which has become like a plant

artificially trained and twisted to turn away from the light. Alas!

for the heart which has hardened itself into stone until it cannot

beat faster, or soar higher, even when men are saying with happy

enthusiasm, or when the organ is lifting upward to the heaven of

heavens the cry which is at once the creed of an everlasting dogma and

the hymn of a triumphant hope--"with Thee is the well of Life, and in

Thy light shall we see light." Now having heard the answer of the

modern spirit to the question "what is the real value of prayer?"

think of the answer of the spirit of the Church as given by St. John

in this paragraph. That answer is not drawn out in a syllogism. St.

John appeals to our consciousness of a divine life. "That ye may know

that ye have eternal life." This _knowledge_ issues in _confidence,

i.e._, literally the sweet possibility of saying out all to God. And

this confidence is never disappointed for any believing child of God.

"If we know that He hear us, we know that we have the petitions that

we desired of Him."[345]

On the 16th verse we need only say, that the greatness of our

brother's spiritual need does not cease to be a title to our sympathy.

St. John is not speaking of all requests, but of the fulness of

brotherly intercession.

* * * * *

One question and one warning in conclusion; and that question is this.

Do we take part in this great ministry of love? Is our voice heard in

the full music of the prayers of intercession that are ever going up to

the Throne, and bringing down the gift of life? Do _we_ pray for others?

In one sense all who know true affection and the sweetness of _true_

prayer do pray for others. We have never loved with supreme affection

any for whom we have not interceded, whose names we have not baptized

in the fountain of prayer. Prayer takes up a tablet from the hand of

love written over with names; that tablet death itself can only break

when the heart has turned Sadducee.

Jesus (we sometimes think) gives one strange proof of the love which

yet passeth knowledge. "Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and

Lazarus;" "when He had heard therefore" [O that strange therefore!]

"that Lazarus was sick, He abode _two days_ still in the same place

where He was." Ah! sometimes not two days, but two years, and

sometimes evermore, He seems to remain. When the income dwindles with

the dwindling span of life; when the best beloved must leave us for

many years, and carries away our sunshine with him; when the life of a

husband is in danger--then we pray; "O Father, for Jesu's sake spare

that precious life; enable me to provide for these helpless ones;

bless these children in their going out and coming in, and let me see

them once again before the night cometh, and my hands are folded for

the long rest." Yes, but have we prayed at our Communion "because of

that Holy Sacrament in it, and with it," that He would give them the

grace which they need--the life which shall save them from sin unto

death? Round us, close to us in our homes, there are cold hands,

hearts that beat feebly. Let us fulfil St. John's teaching, by praying

to Him who is the life that He would chafe those cold hands with His

hand of love, and quicken those dying hearts by contact with that

wounded heart which is a heart of fire.

NOTES

Ch. v. 3-17.

Ver. 3. This section should begin with the words "And His commandments

are not heavy"--and should not be separated from what follows, because

they give one reason of the victory whereof he proceeds to speak. "His

commandments are not heavy, for all that is born of God conquereth the

world." What a picture of the sweetness of a life of service! What a

gentle smile must have been on the old man's face as he said, "His

commandments are not grievous!"

Vers. 7, 8. This passage with its apparent obscurity, and famous

interpolation, demands some additional notice. As to _criticism_ and

_interpretation_.

(1) _Critically._ Since the publication of J. J. Griesbach's

celebrated work (_Diatribe in locum_ 1 John v. 7, 8, Tom. ii., N.T.

Halle: 1806), first German, and latterly English, opinion has become

absolutely unanimous in agreeing with Griesbach that "the words

included between brackets are spurious, and should therefore be

eliminated from the Sacred Text." Even the famous Roman Catholic

scholar, Scholts, in his great critical edition of the New Testament,

in two volumes (Bonn: 1836), boldly dropped the disputed passage from

the text. The interpolated passage has certainly no support in any

uncial manuscript, or ancient version, or Greek Father of the four

first centuries. (2) As to _interpretation_, the faith has lost

nothing by the honesty of her wisest defenders. The whole of the

genuine passage is intensely Trinitarian. The interpolation is nothing

but an exposition written into the text. The three genuine witnesses

do really point to the Three Witnesses in Heaven. Bengel's saying

expresses the permanent feeling of Christendom, which no criticism can

do away with: "This trine array of witnesses on earth is supported by,

and has above and beneath it the Trinity, which is Heavenly,

archetypal, fundamental, everlasting." The whole context recognizes

three special works of the Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity. "This

is the witness of God," _i.e._ of the Father (ver. 9); "this is He

that came by water and blood," _i.e._ the Son (ver. 6); "it is the

Spirit that witnesseth," _i.e._ the Holy Ghost (_ibid._).

A fuller examination of this passage, from a polemical point of view,

will be found in the third of the introductory discourses. It will be

well, however, to indicate here the immediate controversial reference

in the Spirit, the water, and the blood. There is abundant proof that

the popular heretical philosophy of Asia Minor struck Christianity

precisely in three vital places. It denied--

(1) The Incarnation--consequently

(2) The Redemption--consequently

(3) The Sacraments.

But the mention of the water and the blood in connection with the

Person of the Son Incarnate and Crucified established exactly these

three points. Narrated as it was by an eye-witness, it established:--

(1) The reality of the Incarnation--consequently

(2) The reality of Redemption--for the blood of Jesus cleanses from

all sin (1 John i. 7)--consequently

(3) The reality of Sacraments.

We have articulate evidence of the denial of the two sacraments by the

Docetic idealists of Asia Minor. The _Philosophumena_ tells us of the

view of baptism held by one of their principal sects. "According to them

the promise of the laver of regeneration is nothing more than the

introduction into the 'unfading pleasure' of him that is washed (as they

say) with living water, and anointed with 'chrism that speaketh

not.'"[346] The testimony of Ignatius is express as to the other

sacrament. "From Eucharist and prayer they abstain on account of not

confessing that the Eucharist is flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ which

suffered for our sins." ["Water and blood" should be noted in Heb. ix.

19. Water is not mentioned in Exod. xxiv. 6.]--(_Ep. ad Smyrn._ vii.)

FOOTNOTES:

[337] Mr. Matthew Arnold.

[338] This is true as a general rule; but there were exceptions.

[339] See Ps. xv. Cf. Ps. xxiv. 3-7.

[340] 1 John v. 15.

[341] 1 John v. 14, 18.

[342] Vv. 14, 15.

[343] _Historical and Critical Commentary on Leviticus._ By M. M.

Kalisch. Part 1. Theology of the Past and Future, 431, 438.

[344] This is denied by De Wette (_Ueber die Religion_, Vorlesungen,

106).

[345] The form of expression indicates _not_ necessarily the very

things asked, but the spiritual essence and substance.

[346] Ἡ γαρ επαγγελια του λουτρου ουκ αλλη τις εστι κατ' αυτους, ἡ το

εισαγαγειν εις την αμαραντον ἡδονην τον λουομενον κατ' αυτους ζωντ

ὑδατι και χριομενον αλαλω χρισματι.--(_Philosoph._, p. 140, de

Naassenis.)

Expositor's Bible: The Epistles of St. John · 第 7 / 9 章