"How that our gospel came not unto you in word only, but also in
power, and in the Holy Ghost, and _in_ much assurance; even as ye
know what manner of men we showed ourselves toward you for your sake.
And ye became imitators of us, and of the Lord, having received the
word in much affliction, with joy of the Holy Ghost; so that ye
became an ensample to all that believe in Macedonia and Achaia. For
from you hath sounded forth the word of the Lord, not only in
Macedonia and Achaia, but in every place your faith to God-ward is
gone forth; so that we need not to speak anything."--1 THESS. i. 5-8
(R.V.).
The Revised Version renders the ὅτι, with which ver. 5 begins, "how
that," the Authorised Version, "for." In the first case, the Apostle
is made to explain in what election consists; in the other, he
explains how it is that he knows the Thessalonians to be among the
elect. There is hardly room to doubt that it is this last which he
intends to do. Election does not consist in the things which he
proceeds to enlarge upon, though these may be in some sense its
effects or tokens; and there is something like unanimity among
scholars in favour of the rendering "for," or "because." What, then,
are the grounds of the statement, that Paul knows the election of the
Thessalonians? They are twofold; lying partly in his own experience,
and that of his fellow-labourers, while they preached the gospel in
Thessalonica; and partly in the reception which the Thessalonians gave
to their message.
I. The tokens in the preacher that his hearers are elect: "Our gospel
came not unto you in word only, but in power, and in the Holy Ghost,
and in much assurance." That was the consciousness of the preachers
themselves, but they could appeal to those who had heard them: "even
as ye know what manner of men we showed ourselves toward you for your
sake."
The self-consciousness of the preacher, we see from these words, is a
legitimate though a perilous study. Every one has been told that there
is no relation whatever between his own consciousness when preaching,
and the effect of what is preached; but has anybody ever quite
believed this? If there were no relation whatever between the
preacher's consciousness and his conscience; if he did not know that
many a time neglect of prayer or duty had separated him from God, and
made him useless as an evangelist, it would be easier to believe it;
but as our life is, the preacher may know quite well that it is no
proof of God's good will to men that _he_ is sent to preach to them;
or, on the other hand, he may have a humble but sure trust that when
he stands up to speak, God is with him for good to his hearers. Thus
it was with Paul at Thessalonica.
The heartiness with which he speaks here justifies the inference that
he had had experiences of an opposite and disappointing kind. Twice in
Asia (Acts xvi. 6 f.) he had been forbidden by the Spirit to preach at
all; he could not argue that the people so passed by were specially
favoured of God. Often, especially in his intercourse with the Jews,
he must have spoken, like Isaiah, with the depressing consciousness
that it was all in vain; that the sole issue would be to blind their
eyes and harden their hearts and seal them up in impenitence. In
Corinth, just before writing this letter, he had come forward with
unusual trepidation--in weakness and fear and much trembling; and
though there also the Holy Spirit and a divine power brought home the
gospel to men's hearts, he seems to have been so far from that inward
assurance which he enjoyed at Thessalonica, that the Lord appeared to
him in a vision by night to reveal the existence of an election of
grace even in Corinth. "Fear not: I have much people in this city." In
Thessalonica he had no such sinking of heart. He came thither, as he
hoped to go to Rome, in the fulness of the blessing of Christ (Rom.
xv. 29). He knew in himself that God had given it to him to be a true
minister of His grace; he was full of power by the Spirit of the Lord.
That is why he says so confidently, "Knowing your election."
The Apostle explains himself more precisely when he writes, "not in
word only, but in power and in the Holy Ghost and in much assurance."
The gospel must come in word at least; but what a profanation it is to
preach it only in word. Not preachers only, but all Christians, have
to be on their guard, lest familiarity rob the great words of the
gospel of their reality, and they themselves sink into that worst
atheism which is for ever handling holy things without feeling them.
How easy is it to speak of God, Christ, redemption, atonement,
sanctification, heaven, hell, and to be less impressed and less
impressive than if we were speaking of the merest trivialities of
every-day life. It is hard to believe that an apostle could have seen
such a possibility even from afar; yet the contrast of "word" and
"power" leaves no room to doubt that such is his meaning. Words alone
are worthless. No matter how brilliant, how eloquent, how imposing
they may be, they cannot do the work of an evangelist. The call to
this requires "power."
No definition of power is given; we can only see that it is that which
achieves spiritual results, and that the preacher is conscious of
possessing it. It is not his own, certainly: it works through the very
consciousness of his own want of power; "when I am weak, then am I
strong." But it gives him hope and confidence in his work. Paul knew
that it needed a stupendous force to make bad men good; the forces to
be overcome were so enormous. All the sin of the world was arrayed
against the gospel; all the dead weight of men's indifference, all
their pride, all their shame, all their self-satisfaction, all their
cherished wisdom. But he came to Thessalonica _strong_ in the Lord,
confident that his message would subdue those who listened to it; and
therefore, he argued, the Thessalonians were the objects of God's
electing grace.
"Power" stands side by side with the "Holy Ghost." In a sense, the
Holy Ghost is the source of all spiritual virtues, and therefore of
the very power of which we have been speaking; but the words are
probably used here with some narrower meaning. The predominant use of
the name in the New Testament bids us think of that divine fervour
which the spirit kindles in the soul--that ardour of the new life
which Christ Himself speaks of as fire. Paul came to Thessalonica
aglow with Christian passion. He took that as a good omen in his work,
a sign that God meant well to the Thessalonians. By nature men do not
care passionately for each other as he cared for those to whom he
preached in that city. They are not on fire with love, seeking each
other's good in spiritual things; consumed with fervent longing that
the bad should cease from their badness, and come to enjoy the pardon,
the purity, and the company of Christ. Even in the heart of
apostles--for though they were apostles they were men--the fire may
sometimes have burned low, and a mission have been, by comparison,
languid and spiritless; but at least on this occasion the evangelists
were all on fire; and it assured them that God had a people waiting
for them in the unknown city.
If "power" and the "Holy Ghost" are in some degree to be judged only
by their effects, there can be no question that "much assurance," on
the other hand, is an inner experience, belonging strictly to the
self-consciousness of the preacher. It means a full and strong
conviction of the truth of the gospel. We can only understand this by
contrast with its opposite; "much assurance" is the counterpart of
misgiving or doubt. We can hardly imagine an apostle in doubt about
the gospel--not quite certain that Christ had risen from the dead;
wondering whether, after all, His death had abolished sin. Yet these
truths, which are the sum and substance of the gospel, seem, at times,
too great for belief; they do not coalesce with the other contents of
our mind; they do not weave easily into one piece with the warp and
woof of our common thoughts; there is no common measure for them and
the rest of our experience, and the shadow of unreality falls upon
them. They are so great that it needs a certain greatness to answer to
them, a certain boldness of faith to which even a true Christian may
feel momentarily unequal; and while he is unequal, he cannot do the
work of an evangelist. Doubt paralyses; God cannot work through a man
in whose soul there are misgivings about the truth. At least, His
working will be limited to the sphere of what is certain for him
through whom He works; and if we would be effective ministers of the
word, we must speak only what we are sure of, and seek the full
assurance of the whole truth. No doubt such assurance has conditions.
Unfaithfulness of one kind or another is, as our Lord teaches (John
vii. 17), the source of uncertainty as to the truth of His word; and
prayer, repentance, and obedience due, the way to certainty again. But
Paul had never been more confident of the truth and power of his
gospel than when he came to Thessalonica. He had seen it proved in
Philippi, in conversions so dissimilar as those of Lydia and the
jailor. He had felt it in his own heart, in the songs which God had
given him in the night while he suffered for Christ's sake. He came
among those whom he addresses confident that it was God's instrument
to save all who believed. This is his last personal reason for
believing the Thessalonians to be elect.
Strictly speaking, all this refers rather to the delivery of the
message than to the messengers, to the preaching than to the
preachers; but the Apostle applies it to the latter also. "Ye know,"
he writes, "what manner of men we showed ourselves toward you for your
sakes." I venture to think[2] that the word rendered "we showed
ourselves" has really the passive sense--"what God enabled us to be";
it is God's good will to the Thessalonians which is in view, and the
Apostle infers that good will from the character which God enabled him
and his friends to sustain for their sakes. Who could deny that God
had chosen them, when He had sent them Paul and Silas and Timothy; not
mere talkers, cold and spiritless, and dubious of their message; but
men strong in spiritual force, in holy fervour, and in their grasp of
the gospel? If that did not go to show that the Thessalonians were
elect, what could?
II. The self-consciousness of the preachers, however, significant as
it was, was no conclusive evidence. It only became such when their
inspiration was caught by those who listened to them; and this was the
case at Thessalonica. "Ye became imitators of us and of the Lord,
having received the word in much affliction, with joy of the Holy
Ghost." This peculiar expression implies that the signs of God's
election were to be seen in the evangelists, and eminently in the
Lord. Paul shrinks from making himself and his companions types of the
elect, without more ado; they are such only because they are like Him,
of whom it is written "Behold my servant whom I uphold; Mine elect, in
whom My soul delighteth." He speaks here in the same strain as in 1
Cor. xi. 1: "Brethren, be ye imitators of me, even as I also am of
Christ." They who have become like the Lord are marked out as the
chosen of God.
But the Apostle does not rest in this generality. The imitation in
question consisted in this--that the Thessalonians received the word
in much affliction, with joy of the Holy Ghost. It is, of course, in
the last part of the sentence that the point of comparison is found.
In a sense it is true that the Lord Himself received the word which He
spoke to men. "I do nothing of Myself," He says; "but as the Father
hath taught Me, I speak these things" (John viii. 28). But such a
reference is irrelevant here. The significant point is that the
acceptance of the gospel by the Thessalonians brought them into
fellowship with the Lord, and with those who continued His work, in
that which is the distinction and criterion of the new Christian
life--much affliction, with joy of the Holy Ghost. That is a summary
of the life of Christ, the Apostle of the Father (John xvii. 18). It
is more obviously a summary of the life of Paul, the apostle of Jesus
Christ. The acceptance of the gospel meant much affliction for him: "I
will show him how great things he must suffer for My name's sake." It
meant also a new and supernatural joy, a joy arising from, and
sustained by, the Holy Spirit, a joy triumphant in and over all
sufferings. This combination of affliction and spiritual joy, this
original, paradoxical experience, is the token of election. Where the
children of God live, as Christ and His apostles lived, in the midst
of a world at war with God and His cause, they will suffer; but
suffering will not break their spirit, or embitter them, or lead them
to desert God; it will be accompanied with spiritual exaltation,
keeping them sweet, and humble, and joyful, through it all. Paul knew
the Thessalonians were elect, because he saw that new power in them,
to rejoice in tribulations, which can only be seen in those who have
the spirit of God.
This test, obviously, can only be applied when the gospel is a
suffering cause. But if the profession of the Christian faith, and the
leading of a Christian life entail no affliction, what shall we say?
If we read the New Testament aright, we shall say that there is a
mistake somewhere. There is always a cross; there is always something
to bear or to overcome for righteousness' sake; and the spirit in
which it is met tells whether God is with us or not. Not every age is,
like the apostolic, an age of open persecution, of spoiling of goods,
of bonds, and scourging, and death; but the imitation of Christ in His
truth and faithfulness will surely be resented somehow; and it is the
seal of election when men rejoice that they are counted worthy to
suffer shame for His name. Only the true children of God can do that.
Their joy is in some sense a present recompense for their sufferings;
but for suffering they could not know it. "I never knew," said
Rutherford, "by my nine years' preaching, so much of Christ's love as
He hath taught me in Aberdeen, by six months' imprisonment." It is a
joy that never fails those who face affliction that they may be true
to Christ. Think of the Christian boys in Uganda, in 1885, who were
bound alive to a scaffolding and slowly burned to death. "The spirit
of the martyrs at once entered into these lads, and together they
raised their voices and praised Jesus in the fire, singing till their
shrivelled tongues refused to form the sound:--
"'Daily, daily sing to Jesus,
Sing my soul, His praises due;
All He does deserves our praises,
And our deep devotion too.
"'For in deep humiliation,
He for us did live below;
Died on Calvary's cross of torture,
Rose to save our souls from woe.'"[3]
Who can doubt that these three are among the chosen of God? And who
can think of such scenes, and such a spirit, and recall without
misgiving the querulous, fretful, aggrieved tone of his own life, when
things have not gone with him exactly as he could have wished?
The Thessalonians were so conspicuously Christian, so unmistakably
exhibited the new Divine type of character, that they became a model
to all the believers in Macedonia and Achaia. Their conversion called
the attention of all men to the gospel, like a clear and
far-resounding trumpet blast. Thessalonica was a place of much coming
and going on all sides; and the success of the evangelists there,
being carried abroad in various ways, advertised their work, and so
far prepared for their coming. Paul would naturally have spoken of it
when he went to a new city, but found it unnecessary; the news had
preceded him; in every place their faith to God-ward had gone forth.
So far as we learn, it was the most impressive incident which had yet
occurred in the progress of the gospel. A work of grace so
characteristic, so thorough, and so unmistakable, was a token of God's
goodness, not only to those who were immediately the subjects of it,
but to all who heard, and by hearing had their interest awakened in
the evangelists and their message.
This whole subject has a side for preachers, and a side for hearers of
the gospel. The preacher's peril is the peril of coming to men in word
only; saying things which he does not feel, and which others,
therefore, will not feel; uttering truths, it may be, but truths which
have never done anything for him--enlightened, quickened, or
sanctified him--and which he cannot hope, as they come from his lips,
will do anything for others; or worse still, uttering things of which
he cannot even be confident that they are true. Nothing could be less
a sign of God's grace to men than to abandon them to such a preacher,
instead of sending them one full of power, and of the Holy Ghost, and
of assurance. But whatever the preacher may be, there is something
left to the hearer. There were people with whom even Paul, full of
power and of the Holy Ghost, could not prevail. There were people who
hardened their hearts against Christ; and let the preacher be ever so
unworthy of the gospel, the virtue is in it, and not in him. He may
not do anything to commend it to men; but does it need his commendation?
Can we make bad preaching an excuse for refusing to become imitators
of the Lord? It may condemn the preacher, but it can never excuse us.
Look steadily at the seal which God sets upon His own--the union of
affliction with spiritual joy--and follow Christ in the life which is
marked by this character as not human only, but Divine. That is the
way prescribed to us here to make our election sure.
[2] With Godet and P. Schmidt; against Ellicott.
[3] _Life of Bishop Hannington._