THE CORN OF WHEAT DYING TO BRING FORTH FRUIT.

"And Jesus answered them, saying, The hour is come, that the Son of man

should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of

wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it

bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it: and he

that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life

eternal."--JOHN 12:23-25.

CERTAIN Greeks desired to see Jesus. These were Gentiles and it was

remarkable that they should, just at this time, have sought an interview

with our Lord. I suppose that the words "We would see Jesus" did not

merely mean that they would like to look at him, for that they could

have done in the public streets; but they would "see" him as we speak of

seeing a person with whom we wish to hold a conversation. They desired

to be introduced to him, and to have a few words of instruction from

him.

These Greeks were the advanced guard of that great multitude that no man

can number, of all nations, and people, and tongues, who are yet to come

to Christ. The Saviour would naturally feel a measure of joy at the

sight of them, but he did not say much about it, for his mind was

absorbed just then with thoughts of his great sacrifice and its results;

yet he took so much notice of the coming of these Gentiles to him that

it gave a color to the words which are here recorded by his servant

John.

I notice that the Saviour here _displays his broad humanity_, and

announces himself as the "Son of man." He had done so before, but here

with new intent. He says, "The hour is come, that the Son of man should

be glorified." Not as "the Son of David" does he here speak of himself,

but as "the Son of man." No longer does he make prominent the Jewish

side of his mission, though as a preacher he was not sent to save the

lost sheep of the house of Israel; but as the dying Saviour he speaks of

himself as one of the race, not the Son of Abraham, or of David, but

"the Son of man": as much brother to the Gentile as to the Jew. Let us

never forget the broad humanity of the Lord Jesus. In him all kindreds

of the earth are joined in one, for he is not ashamed to bear the nature

of our universal manhood; black and white, prince and pauper, sage and

savage, all see in his veins the one blood by which all men are

constituted one family. As the Son of man Jesus is near akin to every

man that lives.

Now, too, that the Greeks were come, our Lord _speaks somewhat of his

glory_ as approaching. "The hour is come," saith he, "that the Son of

man should be glorified." He does not say "that the Son of man should be

crucified," though that was true, and the crucifixion must come before

the glorification; but the sight of those first-fruits from among the

Gentiles makes him dwell upon his glory. Though he remembers his death,

he speaks rather of the glory which would grow out of his great

sacrifice. Remember, brethren, that Christ is glorified in the souls

that he saves. As a physician wins honor by those he heals, so the

Physician of souls gets glory out of those who come to him. When these

devout Greeks came, saying, "Sirs, we would see Jesus," though a mere

desire to see him is only as the green blade, yet he rejoiced in it as

the pledge of the harvest, and he saw in it the dawn of the glory of his

cross.

I think, too, that the coming of these Greeks somewhat _led the Saviour

to use the metaphor of the buried corn_. We are informed that wheat was

largely mixed up with Grecian mysteries, but that is of small

importance. It is more to the point that our Saviour was then undergoing

the process which would burst the Jewish husk in which, if I may use

such terms, his human life had been enveloped. I mean this: aforetime

our Lord said that he was not sent save to the lost sheep of the house

of Israel, and when the Syrophenician woman pleaded for her daughter he

reminded her of the restricted character of his commission as a prophet

among men. When he sent out the seventy, he bade them not to go into the

cities of the Samaritans, but to seek after the house of Israel only.

Now, however, that blessed corn of wheat is breaking through its outer

integument. Even before it is put into the ground to die the divine corn

of wheat begins to show its living power, and the true Christ is being

manifested. The Christ of God, though assuredly the Son of David, was,

on the Father's side, neither Jew nor Gentile, but simply man; and the

great sympathies of his heart were with all mankind. He regarded all

whom he had chosen as his own brethren without distinction of sex, or

nation, or the period of the world's history in which they should live;

and, at the sight of these Greeks, the true Christ came forth and

manifested himself to the world as he had not done before. Hence,

perhaps, the peculiar metaphor which we have now to explain.

In our text, dear friends, we have two things upon which I will speak

briefly, as I am helped of the Spirit. First, we have _profound

doctrinal teaching_, and, secondly, we have _practical moral principle_.

First, we have PROFOUND DOCTRINAL TEACHING.

Our Saviour suggested to his thoughtful disciples a number of what might

be called doctrinal paradoxes.

First, that, _glorious as he was, he was yet to be glorified_. "The hour

is come, that the Son of man should be glorified." Jesus was always

glorious. It was a glorious thing for the human person of the Son of man

to be personally one with the Godhead. Our Lord Jesus had also great

glory all the while he was on earth, in the perfection of his moral

character. The gracious end for which he came here was real glory to

him: his condescending to be the Saviour of men was a great

glorification of his loving character. His way of going about his

work--the way in which he consecrated himself to his Father and was

always about his Father's business, the way in which he put aside Satan

with his blandishments, and would not be bribed by all the kingdoms of

the world--all this was his glory. I should not speak incorrectly if I

were to say that Christ was really as to his moral nature never more

glorious than when throughout his life on earth he was obscure,

despised, rejected, and yet the faithful servant of God, and the ardent

lover of the sons of men. The apostle says, "The Word was made flesh,

and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only

begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth," in which he refers not

only to the transfiguration, in which there were special glimpses of the

divine glory, but to our Lord's tabernacling among men in the common

walks of life. Saintly, spiritual minds beheld the glory of his life,

the glory of grace and truth such as never before had been seen in any

of the sons of men. But though he was thus, to all intents and purposes,

already glorious, Jesus had yet to be glorified. Something more was to

be added to his personal honor. Remember, then, that when you have the

clearest conceptions of your Lord, there is still a glory to be added to

all that you can see even with the word of God in your hands. Glorious

as the living Son of man had been, there was a further glory to come

upon him through his death, his resurrection, and his entrance within

the veil. He was a glorious Christ, and yet he had to be glorified.

A second paradox is this--that _his glory was to come to him through

shame_. He says, "The hour is come, that the Son of man should be

glorified," and then he speaks of his death. The greatest fulness of our

Lord's glory arises out of his emptying himself, and becoming obedient

to death, even the death of the cross. It is his highest reputation that

he made himself of no reputation. His crown derives new lustre from his

cross; his ever living is rendered more honorable by the fact of his

dying unto sin once. Those blessed cheeks would never have been so fair

as they are in the eyes of his chosen if they had not once been spat

upon. Those dear eyes had never had so overpowering a glance if they had

not once been dimmed in the agonies of death for sinners. His hands are

as gold rings set with the beryl, but their brightest adornments are the

prints of the cruel nails. As the Son of God his glory was all his own

by nature, but as Son of man his present splendor is due to the cross,

and to the ignominy which surrounded it when he bore our sins in his own

body. We must never forget this, and if ever we are tempted to merge

the crucified Saviour in the coming King we should feel rebuked by the

fact that thus we should rob our Lord of his highest honor. Whenever you

hear men speak lightly of the atonement stand up for it at once, for out

of this comes the main glory of your Lord and Master. They say, "Let him

come down from the cross, and we will believe on him." If he did so what

would remain to be believed? It is on the cross, it is from the cross,

it is through the cross that Jesus mounts to his throne, and the Son of

man has a special honor in heaven to-day because he was slain and has

redeemed us to God by his blood.

The next paradox is this--_Jesus must be alone or abide alone_. Notice

the text as I read it: "Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and

die," and so gets alone, "it abideth alone." The Son of man must be

alone in the grave, or he will be alone in heaven. He must fall into the

ground like the corn of wheat, and be there in the loneliness of death,

or else he will abide alone. This is a paradox readily enough explained;

our Lord Jesus Christ as the Son of man, unless he had trodden the

winepress alone, unless beneath the olives of Gethsemane he had wrestled

on the ground, and as it were sunk into the ground until he died, if he

had not been there alone, and if on the cross he had not cried, "My God,

my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" so that he felt quite deserted and

alone, like the buried corn of wheat--could not have saved us. If he had

not actually died he would as man have been alone forever: not without

the eternal Father and the divine Spirit, not without the company of

angels; but there had not been another man to keep him company. Our Lord

Jesus cannot bear to be alone. A head without its members is a ghastly

sight, crown it as you may. Know ye not that the church is his body, the

fulness of him that filleth all in all? Without his people Jesus would

have been a shepherd without sheep; surely it is not a very honorable

office to be a shepherd without a flock.

He would have been a husband without his spouse; but he loves his bride

so well that for this purpose did he leave his Father and become one

flesh with her whom he had chosen. He clave to her, and died for her;

and had he not done so he would have been a bridegroom without a bride.

This could never be. His heart is not of the kind that can enjoy a

selfish happiness which is shared by none. If you have read Solomon's

Song, where the heart of the Bridegroom is revealed, you will have seen

that he desires the company of his love, his dove, his undefiled. His

delights were with the sons of men. Simon Stylites on the top of a

pillar is not Jesus Christ; the hermit in his cave may mean well, but he

finds no warrant for his solitude in him whose cross he professes to

venerate. Jesus was the friend of men, not avoiding them, but seeking

the lost. It was truly said of him, "This man receiveth sinners, and

eateth with them." He draws all men unto him, and for this cause he was

lifted up from the earth. Yet must this great attractive man have been

alone in heaven if he had not been alone in Gethsemane, alone before

Pilate, alone when mocked by soldiers, and alone upon the cross. If this

precious grain of wheat had not descended into the dread loneliness of

death it had remained alone, but since he died he "bringeth forth much

fruit."

This brings us to the fourth paradox--_Christ must die to give life_.

"Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone:

but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit": Jesus must die to give

life to others. Persons who do not think confound dying with

non-existence, and living with existence--very, very different things.

"The soul that sinneth it shall die:" it shall never go out of

existence, but it shall die by being severed from God who is its life.

There are many men who exist, and yet have not true life, and shall not

see life, but "the wrath of God abideth on them." The grain of wheat

when it is put into the ground dies; do we mean that it ceases to be?

Not at all. What is death? It is the resolution of anything possessing

life into its primary elements. With us it is the body parting from the

soul; with a grain of wheat it is the dissolving of the elements which

made up the corn. Our divine Lord when put into the earth did not see

corruption, but his soul was parted from his body for a while, and thus

he died; and unless he had literally and actually died he could not have

given life to any of us.

Beloved friends, this teaches us where the vital point of Christianity

lies, _Christ's death is the life of his teaching_. See here: if

Christ's preaching had been the essential point, or if his example had

been the vital point, he could have brought forth fruit and multiplied

Christians by his preaching, and by his example. But he declares that,

except he shall die, he shall not bring forth fruit. Am I told that this

was because his death would be the completion of his example, and the

seal of his preaching? I admit that it was so, but I can conceive that

if our Lord had rather continued to live on--if he had been here

constantly going up and down the world preaching and living as he did,

and if he had wrought miracles as he did, and put forth that

mysterious, attracting power, which was always with him, he might have

produced a marvellous number of disciples. If his teaching and living

had been the way in which spiritual life could have been bestowed,

without an atonement, why did not the Saviour prolong his life on earth?

But the fact is that no man among us can know anything about spiritual

life except through the atonement. There is no way by which we can come

to a knowledge of God except through the precious blood of Jesus Christ,

by which we have access to the Father. If, as some tell us, the ethical

part of Christianity is much more to be thought of than its peculiar

doctrines, then, why did Jesus die at all? The ethical might have been

brought out better by a long life of holiness. He might have lived on

till now if he had chosen, and still have preached, and still have set

an example among the sons of men; but he assures us that only by death

could he have brought forth fruit. What, not with all that holy living?

No. What, not by that matchless teaching? No. Not one among us could

have been saved from eternal death except an expiation had been wrought

by Jesus' sacrifice. Not one of us could have been quickened into

spiritual life except Christ himself had died and risen from the dead.

Brethren, all the spiritual life that there is in the world is the

result of Christ's death. We live under a dispensation which shadows

forth this truth to us. Life first came into the world by a creation:

that was lost in the garden. Since then, the father of our race is Noah,

and life by Noah came to us by a typical death, burial, and

resurrection. Noah went in unto the ark, and was shut in, and so buried.

In that ark Noah went among the dead, himself enveloped in the rain and

in the ark, and he came out into a new world, rising again, as it were,

when the waters were assuaged. That is the way of life to-day. We are

dead with Christ, we are buried with Christ, we are risen with Christ;

and there is no real spiritual life in this world except that which has

come to us by the process of death, burial, and resurrection with

Christ. Do you know anything about this, dear friends?--for if you do

not, you know not the life of God. You know the theory, but do you know

the experimental power of this within your own spirit? Whenever we hear

the doctrine of the atonement attacked, let us stand up for it. Let us

tell the world that while we value the life of Christ even more than

they do, we know that it is not the example of Christ that saves

anybody, but his death for our sakes. If the blessed Christ had lived

here all these nineteen hundred years, without sin, teaching all his

marvellous precepts with his own sublime and simple eloquence, yet he

had not produced one single atom of spiritual life among all the sons of

men. Without dying he brings forth no fruit. If you want life, my dear

hearer, you will not get it as an unregenerate man by attempting to

imitate the example of Christ. You may get good of a certain sort that

way, but you will never obtain spiritual life and eternal salvation by

that method. You must believe on Jesus as dying for you. You have to

understand that the blood of Jesus Christ, God's dear Son, cleanses us

from all sin. When you have learned that truth, you shall study his life

with advantage; but unless you recognize that the grain of wheat is cast

into the ground, and made to die, you will never realize any fruit from

it in your own soul, or see fruit in the souls of others.

One other blessed lesson of deep divinity is to be learnt from our

text: it is this--_since Jesus Christ did really fall into the ground

and die, we may expect much as the result of it_. "If it die, it

bringeth forth much fruit." Some have a little Christ, and they expect

to see little things come of him. I have met with good people who appear

to think that Jesus Christ died for the sound people who worship at Zoar

Chapel, and, perhaps, for a few more who go to Ebenezer in a neighboring

town, and they hope that one day a chosen few--a scanty company indeed

they are, and they do their best by mutual quarrelling to make them

fewer--will glorify God for the salvation of a very small remnant. I

will not blame these dear brethren, but I do wish that their hearts were

enlarged. We do not yet know all the fruit that is to come out of our

Lord Jesus. May there not come a day when the millions of London shall

worship God with one consent? I look for a day when the knowledge of the

glory of God shall cover the earth as the waters cover the sea, when

kings shall fall down before the Son of God, and all nations shall call

him blessed. "It is too much to expect," says one; "missions make very

slow progress." I know all that, but missions are not the seed: all that

we look for is to come out of that corn of wheat which fell into the

ground and died: this is to bring forth much fruit. When I think of my

Master's blessed person as perfect Son of God and Son of man; when I

think of the infinite glory which he laid aside, and of the unutterable

pangs he bore, I ask whether angels can compute the value of the

sacrifice he offered. God only knows the love of God that was manifested

in the death of his Son, and do you think that there will be all this

planning and working and sacrifice of infinite love, and then an

insignificant result? It is not like God that it should be so. The

travail of the Son of God shall not bring forth a scanty good. The

result shall be commensurate with the means, and the effect shall be

parallel with the cause. The Lord shall reign for ever and ever.

Hallelujah! Ay, as the groanings of the cross must have astounded

angels, so shall the results of the cross amaze the seraphim, and make

them admire the excess of glory which has arisen from the shameful death

of their Lord. O beloved, great things are to come out of our Jesus yet.

Courage, you that are dispirited. Be brave, you soldiers of the cross.

Victory awaits your banner. Wait patiently, work hopefully, suffer

joyfully, for the kingdom is the Lord's, and he is the governor among

the nations.

Thus have I spoken upon profound divinity.

I close with a few words upon PRACTICAL INSTRUCTION. Learn now that what

is true of Christ is in measure true of every child of God: "Except a

corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it

die, it bringeth forth much fruit." This is so far applicable to us, as

the next verse indicates--"He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he

that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal."

First, _we must die if we are to live_. There is no spiritual life for

you, for me, for any man, except by dying into it. Have you a fine-spun

righteousness of your own? It must die. Have you any faith in yourself?

It must die. The sentence of death must be in yourself, and then you

shall enter into life. The withering power of the Spirit of God must be

experienced before his quickening influence can be known: "The grass

withereth, the flower fadeth: because the spirit of the Lord bloweth

upon it." You must be slain by the sword of the Spirit before you can be

made alive by the breath of the Spirit.

Next, _we must surrender everything to keep it_. "He that loveth his

life shall lose it." Brother, you can never have spiritual life, hope,

joy, peace, heaven, except by giving everything up into God's hands. You

shall have everything in Christ when you are willing to have nothing of

your own. You must ground your weapons of rebellion, you must drop the

plumes of your pride, you must give up into God's hand all that you are

and all that you have; and if you do not thus lose everything in will,

you shall lose everything in fact; indeed, you have lost it already. A

full surrender of everything to God is the only way to keep it. Some of

God's people find this literally true. I have known a mother keep back

her child from God, and the child has died. Wealthy people have

worshipped their wealth, and as they were God's people, he has broken

their idols into shivers. You must lose your all if you would keep it,

and renounce your most precious thing if you would have it preserved to

you.

Next, _we must lose self in order to find self_. "He that hateth his

life shall keep it unto life eternal." You must entirely give up living

for yourself, and then you yourself shall live. The man who lives for

himself does not live; he loses the essence, the pleasure, the crown of

existence; but if you live for others and for God you will find the life

of life. "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and

all these things shall be added unto you." There is no way of finding

yourself in personal joy like losing yourself in the joy of others.

Once more: if you _wish to be the means of life to others, you must in

your measure die yourself_. "Oh," say you, "will it actually come to

death?" Well, it may not, but you should be prepared for it if it

should. Who have most largely blessed the present age? I will tell you.

I believe we owe our gospel liberties mainly to the poor men and women

who died at the stake for the faith. Call them Lollards, Anabaptists, or

what you will, the men who died for it gave life to the holy cause. Some

of all ranks did this, from bishops downward to poor boys. Many of them

could not preach from the pulpit, but they preached grander sermons from

the fagots than all the reformers could thunder from their rostrums.

They fell into the ground and died, and the "much fruit" abides to this

day. The self-sacrificing death of her saints was the life and increase

of the church. If we wish to achieve a great purpose, establish a great

truth, and raise up a great agency for good, it must be by the surrender

of ourselves, yea, of our very lives to the one all-absorbing purpose.

Not else can we succeed. There is no giving out to others, without

taking so much out of yourself. He who serves God and finds that it is

easy work will find it hard work to give in his account at the last. A

sermon that costs nothing is worth nothing; if it did not come from the

heart it will not go to the heart. Take it as a rule that wear and tear

must go on, even to exhaustion, if we are to be largely useful. Death

precedes growth. The Saviour of others cannot save himself. We must not,

therefore, grudge the lives of those who die under the evil climate of

Africa, if they die for Christ; nor must we murmur if here and there

God's best servants are cut down by brain exhaustion: it is the law of

divine husbandry that by death cometh increase.

And you, dear friend, must not say, "Oh, I cannot longer teach in the

Sunday-school: I work so hard all the week that I--I--I"--shall I finish

the sentence for you? You work so hard for yourself all the week that

you cannot work for God one day in the week. Is that it? "No, not quite

so, but I am so fagged." Very true, but think of your Lord. He knew what

weariness was for you, and yet he wearied not in well-doing. You will

never come to sweat of blood as he did. Come, dear friend, will you be a

corn of wheat laid up on the shelf alone? Will you be like that wheat in

the mummy's hand, unfruitful and forgotten, or would you grow? I hear

you say, "Sow me somewhere." I will try to do so. Let me drop you into

the Sunday-school field, or into the Tract-lending acre, or into the

Street-preaching parcel of land. "But if I make any great exertion it

will half kill me." Yes; and if it shall quite kill, you will then prove

the text, "If it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." Those who have

killed themselves of late in our Lord's service are not so numerous that

we need be distressed by the fear that an enormous sacrifice of life is

likely to occur. Little cause is there just now to repress fanaticism,

but far more reason to denounce self-seeking. O, my brethren, let us

rise to a condition of consecration more worthy of our Lord and of his

glorious cause, and henceforth may we be eager to be as the buried,

hidden, dying, yet fruit-bearing wheat for the glory of our Lord. Thus

have I merely glanced at the text; another day may it be our privilege

to dive into its depths.

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