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PRACTICAL RELIGION
Being Plain Papers on the Daily Duties, Experience, Dangers, and
Privileges of Professing Christians
by
JOHN CHARLES RYLE, D.D.,
Baker Book House, Grand Rapids, Michigan
CONTENTS
PREFACE v
I. SELF-INQUIRY 1
II. SELF-EXERTION 23
III. REALITY 46
IV. PRAYER 63
V. BIBLE-READING 97
VI. GOING TO THE TABLE 140
VII. CHARITY 165
VIII. ZEAL 183
IX. FREEDOM 210
X. HAPPINESS 230
XI. FORMALITY 261
XII. THE WORLD 284
XIII. RICHES AND POVERTY 312
XIV. THE BEST FRIEND 336
XV. SICKNESS 352
XVI. THE FAMILY OF GOD 375
XVII. OUR HOME 392
XVIII. HEIRS OF GOD 403
XIX. THE GREAT GATHERING 429
XX. THE GREAT SEPARATION 442
XXI. ETERNITY 472
PREFACE
The volume now in the reader's hands is intended to be a companion to
two other volumes which I have already published, entitled "Knots
Untied," and "Old Paths."
"Knots Untied" consists of a connected series of papers, systematically
arranged, about the principal points which form the subject of
controversy among Churchmen in the present day. All who take interest in
such disputed questions as the nature of the Church, the Ministry,
Baptism, Regeneration, the Lord's Supper, the Real Presence, Worship,
Confession, and the Sabbath, will find them pretty fully discussed in
"Knots Untied."
"Old Paths" consists of a similar series of papers about those leading
doctrines of the Gospel which are generally considered necessary to
salvation. The inspiration of Scripture, sin, justification,
forgiveness, repentance, conversion, faith, the work of Christ, and the
work of the Holy Spirit, are the principal subjects handled in "Old
Paths."
The present volume contains a series of papers about "practical
religion," and treats of the daily duties, dangers, experience, and
privileges of all who profess and call themselves true Christians. Read
in conjunction with another work I have previously put out, called
"Holiness," I think it will throw some light on what every believer
ought to be, to do, and expect.
One common feature will be found in all the three volumes. I avow it
frankly at the outset, and will not keep it back for a moment. The
standpoint I have tried to occupy, from first to last, is that of an
Evangelical Churchman.
I say this deliberately and emphatically. I am fully aware that
Evangelical churchmanship is not popular and acceptable in this day. It
is despised by many, and has "no form or comeliness" in their eyes. To
avow attachment to Evangelical views, in some quarters, is to provoke a
sneer, and to bring on yourself the reproach of being an "unlearned and
ignorant man." But none of these things move me. I am not ashamed of my
opinions. After forty years of Bible-reading and praying, meditation
and theological study, I find myself clinging more tightly than ever to
"Evangelical" religion, and more than ever satisfied with it. It wears
well: it stands the fire. I know no system of religion which is better.
In the faith of it I have lived for the third of a century, and in the
faith of it I hope to die.
The plain truth is, that I see no other ground to occupy, and find no
other rest for the sole of my foot. I lay no claim to infallibility, and
desire to be no man's judge. But the longer I live and read, the more I
am convinced and persuaded that Evangelical principles are the
principles of the Bible, of the Articles and Prayer-book, and of the
leading Divines of the reformed Church of England. Holding these views,
I cannot write otherwise than I have written.
I now send forth this volume with an earnest prayer that God the Holy
Ghost may bless it, and make it useful and helpful to many souls.
J. C. RYLE,
November, 1878. _Vicar of Stradbroke._
PRACTICAL RELIGION
I
SELF-INQUIRY
"_Let us go again and visit our brethren in every city where we
have preached the word of the Lord, and see how they
do._"--Acts xv. 36.
The text which heads this page contains a proposal which the Apostle
Paul made to Barnabas after their first missionary journey. He proposed
to revisit the Churches they had been the means of founding, and to see
how they were getting on. Were their members continuing steadfast in the
faith? Were they growing in grace? Were they going forward, or standing
still? Were they prospering, or falling away?--"Let us go again and
visit our brethren, and see how they do."
This was a wise and useful proposal. Let us lay it to heart, and apply
it to ourselves in the nineteenth century. Let us search our ways, and
find out how matters stand between ourselves and God. Let us "see how we
do." I ask every reader of this volume to begin its perusal by joining
me in self-inquiry. If ever self-inquiry about religion was needed, it
is needed at the present day.
We live in an age of peculiar _spiritual privileges_. Since the world
began there never was such an opportunity for a man's soul to be saved
as there is in England at this time. There never were so many signs of
religion in the land, so many sermons preached, so many services held in
churches and chapels, so many Bibles sold, so many religious books and
tracts printed, so many Societies for evangelizing mankind supported, so
much outward respect paid to Christianity. Things are done everywhere
now-a-days which a hundred years ago would have been thought impossible.
Bishops support the boldest and most aggressive efforts to reach the
unconverted. Deans and Chapters throw open the naves of cathedrals for
Sunday evening sermons! Clergy of the narrowest High Church School
advocate special missions, and vie with their Evangelical brethren in
proclaiming that going to church on Sunday is not enough to take a man
to heaven. In short, there is a stir about religion now-a-days to which
there has been nothing like since England was a nation, and which the
cleverest sceptics and infidels cannot deny. If Romaine, and Venn, and
Berridge, and Rowlands, and Grimshaw, and Hervey, had been told that
such things would come to pass about a century after their deaths, they
would have been tempted to say, with the Samaritan nobleman,--"If the
Lord should make windows of heaven might such a thing be." (2 Kings vii.
19.) But the Lord has opened the windows of heaven. There is more taught
now-a-days in England of the real Gospel, and of the way of salvation by
faith in Jesus Christ, in one week, than there was in a year in
Romaine's time. Surely I have a right to say that we live in an age of
spiritual privileges. But are we any better for it? In an age like this
it is well to ask, "How do we do about our souls?"
We live in an age of peculiar _spiritual danger_. Never perhaps since
the world began was there such an immense amount of mere outward
profession of religion as there is in the present day. A painfully large
proportion of all the congregations in the land consists of unconverted
people, who know nothing of heart-religion, never come to the Lord's
Table, and never confess Christ in their daily lives. Myriads of those
who are always running after preachers, and crowding to hear special
sermons, are nothing better than empty tubs, and tinkling cymbals,
without a jot of real vital Christianity at home.[1] The parable of the
sower is continually receiving most vivid and painful illustrations. The
way-side hearers, the stony-ground hearers, the thorny-ground hearers
abound on every side.
1: It is curious and instructive to observe how history repeats itself,
and how much sameness there is in the human heart in every age. Even in
the Primitive Church, says Canon Robertson, "Many persons were found at
church for the great Christian ceremonies, and at the theatres, or even
at the temples, for the heathen spectacles. The ritual of the Church was
viewed as a theatrical spectacle. The sermons were listened to as the
display of rhetoricians; and eloquent preachers were cheered, with
clapping of hands, stamping of feet, waving of handkerchiefs, cries of
'Orthodox,' 'Thirteenth Apostle,' and such like demonstrations, which
such teachers as Chrysostom and Augustine tried to restrain, that they
might persuade their flocks to a more profitable manner of hearing. Some
went to Church for the sermon only, alleging that they could pray at
home. And when the more attractive parts of the service were over, the
great mass of the people departed without remaining for the
eucharist."--Robertson's "Church History," B. II., ch. vi., p. 356.
The life of many religious professors, I fear, in this age, is nothing
better than a continual course of spiritual dram-drinking. They are
always morbidly craving fresh excitement; and they seem to care little
what it is if they only get it. All preaching seems to come alike to
them; and they appear unable to "see differences," so long as they hear
what is clever, have their ears tickled, and sit in a crowd. Worst of
all, there are hundreds of young unestablished believers who are so
infected with the same love of excitement, that they actually think it a
duty to be always seeking it. Insensibly almost to themselves, they take
up a kind of hysterical, sensational, sentimental Christianity, until
they are never content with the "old paths," and, like the Athenians,
are always running after something new. To see a calm-minded young
believer, who is not stuck up, self-confident, self-conceited, and more
ready to teach than learn, but content with a daily steady effort to
grow up into Christ's likeness, and to do Christ's work quietly and
unostentatiously, at home, is really becoming almost a rarity! Too many
young professors, alas, behave like young recruits who have not spent
all their bounty money. They show how little deep root they have, and
how little knowledge of their own hearts, by noise, forwardness,
readiness to contradict and set down old Christians, and over-weening
trust in their own fancied soundness and wisdom! Well will it be for
many young professors of this age if they do not end, after being tossed
about for a while, and "carried to and fro by every wind of doctrine,"
by joining some petty, narrow-minded, censorious sect, or embracing some
senseless, unreasoning, crotchetty heresy. Surely in times like these
there is great need for self-examination. When we look around us, we may
well ask, "How do we do about our souls?"
In handling this question, I think the shortest plan will be to suggest
a list of subjects for self-inquiry, and to go through them in order. By
so doing I shall hope to meet the case of every one into whose hands
this volume may fall. I invite every reader of this paper to join me in
calm, searching self-examination, for a few short minutes. I desire to
speak to myself as well as to you. I approach you not as an enemy, but
as a friend. "My heart's desire and prayer to God is that you may be
saved." (Rom. x. 1.) Bear with me if I say things which at first sight
look harsh and severe. Believe me, he is your best friend who tells you
the most truth.
(1) Let me ask, in the first place, _Do we ever think about our souls at
all_? Thousands of English people, I fear, cannot answer that question
satisfactorily. They never give the subject of religion any place in
their thoughts. From the beginning of the year to the end they are
absorbed in the pursuit of business, pleasure, politics, money, or
self-indulgence of some kind or another. Death, and judgement, and
eternity, and heaven, and hell, and a world to come, are never calmly
looked at and considered. They live on as if they were never going to
die, or rise again, or stand at the bar of God, or receive an eternal
sentence! They do not openly oppose religion, for they have not
sufficient reflection about it to do so;--but they eat, and drink, and
sleep, and get money, and spend money, as if religion was a mere fiction
and not a reality. They are neither Romanists, nor Socinians, nor
infidels, nor High Church, nor Low Church, nor Broad Church. They are
just _nothing at all_, and do not take the trouble to have opinions. A
more senseless and unreasonable way of living cannot be conceived; but
they do not pretend to reason about it. They simply never think about
God, unless frightened for a few minutes by sickness, death in their
families, or an accident. Barring such interruptions, they appear to
ignore religion altogether, and hold on their way cool and undisturbed,
as if there were nothing worth thinking of except this world.
It is hard to imagine a life more unworthy of an immortal creature than
such a life as I have just described, for it reduces a man to the level
of a beast. But it is literally and truly the life of multitudes in
England; and as they pass away their place is taken by multitudes like
them. The picture, no doubt, is horrible, distressing, and revolting:
but, unhappily, it is only too true. In every large town, in every
market, on every stock-exchange, in every club, you may see specimens of
this class by scores,--men who think of everything under the sun except
the one thing needful,--the salvation of their souls. Like the Jews of
old they do not "consider their ways," they do not "consider their
latter end;" they do not "consider that they do evil." (Isa. i. 3; Hag.
i. 7; Deut. xxxii. 29; Eccles. v. i.) Like Gallio they "care for none of
these things:" they are not in their way. (Acts xviii. 17.) If they
prosper in the world, and get rich, and succeed in their line of life,
they are praised, and admired by their contemporaries. Nothing succeeds
in England like success! But for all this they cannot live for ever.
They will have to die and appear before the bar of God, and be judged;
and then what will the end be? When a large class of this kind exists in
our country, no reader need wonder that I ask whether he belongs to it.
If you do, you ought to have a mark set on your door, as there used to
be a mark on a plague-stricken house two centuries ago, with the words,
"Lord have mercy on us," written on it. Look at the class I have been
describing, and then look at your own soul.
(2) Let me ask, in the second place, _whether we ever do anything about
our souls?_? There are multitudes in England who think occasionally
about religion, but unhappily never get beyond thinking. After a
stirring sermon,--or after a funeral,--or under the pressure of
illness,--or on Sunday evening,--or when things are going on badly in
their families,--or when they meet some bright example of a
Christian,--or when they fall in with some striking religious book or
tract,--they will at the time think a good deal, and even talk a little
about religion in a vague way. But they stop short, as if thinking and
talking were enough to save them. They are always meaning, and
intending, and purposing, and resolving, and wishing, and telling us
that they "know" what is right, and "hope" to be found right at last,
but they never attain to any _action_. There is no actual separation
from the service of the world and sin, no real taking up the cross and
following Christ, no positive _doing_ in their Christianity. Their life
is spent in playing the part of the son in our Lord's parable, to whom
the father said, "Go, work in my vineyard: and he answered, I go, sir,
and went not." (Matt. xxi. 30.) They are like those whom Ezekiel
describes, who liked his preaching, but never practised what he
preached:--"They come unto thee as the people cometh, and they sit
before thee as my people, and they hear thy words, but they will not do
them.... And, lo, thou art unto them as a very lovely song of one that
hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an instrument: for they hear
thy words, but they do them not." (Ezek. xxxiii. 31, 32.) In a day like
this, when hearing and thinking, without _doing_, is so common, no one
can justly wonder that I press upon men the absolute need of
self-examination. Once more, then, I ask my readers to consider the
question of my text,--"How do we do about our souls?"
(3) Let me ask, in the third place, _whether we are trying to satisfy
our consciences with a mere formal religion_? There are myriads in
England at this moment who are making shipwreck on this rock. Like the
Pharisees of old, they make much ado about the outward part of
Christianity, while the inward and spiritual part is totally neglected.
They are careful to attend all the services of their place of worship,
and regular in using all its forms and ordinances. They are never absent
from Communion when the Lord's Supper is administered. Sometimes they
are most strict in observing Lent, and attach great importance to
Saints' days. They are often keen partisans of their own Church, or
sect, or congregation, and ready to contend with any one who does not
agree with them. Yet all this time there is no _heart_ in their
religion. Any one who knows them intimately can see with half an eye
that their affections are set on things below, and not on things above;
and that they are trying to make up for the want of inward Christianity
by an excessive quantity of outward form. And this formal religion does
them no real good. They are not satisfied. Beginning at the wrong end,
by making the outward things first, they know nothing of inward joy and
peace, and pass their lives in a constant struggle, secretly conscious
that there is something wrong, and yet not knowing why. Well, after all,
if they do not go on from one stage of formality to another, until in
despair they take a fatal plunge, and fall into Popery! When professing
Christians of this kind are so painfully numerous, no one need wonder if
I press upon him the paramount importance of close self-examination. If
you love life, do not be content with the husk, and shell, and
scaffolding of religion. Remember our Saviour's words about the Jewish
formalists of His day: "This people draweth nigh with their mouth, and
honoureth Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me. In vain do
they worship." (Matt. xv. 9.) It needs something more than going
diligently to church, and receiving the Lord's Supper, to take our souls
to heaven. Means of grace and forms of religion are useful in their way,
and God seldom does anything for His church without them. But let us
beware of making shipwreck on the very lighthouse which helps to show
the channel into the harbour. Once more I ask, "How do we do about our
souls?"
(4) Let me ask, in the fourth place, _whether we have received the
forgiveness of our sins_? Few reasonable Englishmen would think of
denying that they are sinners. Many perhaps would say that they are not
so bad as many, and that they have not been so very wicked, and so
forth. But few, I repeat, would pretend to say that they had always
lived like angels, and never done, or said, or thought a wrong thing all
their days. In short, all of us must confess that we are more or less
"_sinners_," and, as sinners, are guilty before God; and, as guilty, we
must be forgiven, or lost and condemned for ever at the last day.--Now
it is the glory of the Christian religion that it provides for us the
very forgiveness that we need,--full, free, perfect, eternal, and
complete. It is a leading article in that well-known creed which most
Englishmen learn when they are children. They are taught to say, "I
believe in the forgiveness of sins." This forgiveness of sins has been
purchased for us by the eternal Son of God, our Lord Jesus Christ. He
has purchased it for us by coming into the world to be our Saviour, and
by living, dying, and rising again, as our Substitute, in our behalf. He
has bought it for us at the price of His own most precious blood, by
suffering in our stead on the cross, and making satisfaction for our
sins. But this forgiveness, great, and full, and glorious as it is, does
not become the property of every man and woman, as a matter of course.
It is not a privilege which every member of a Church possesses, merely
because he is a Churchman. It is a thing which each individual must
receive for himself by his own personal faith, lay hold on by faith,
appropriate by faith, and make his own by faith; or else, so far as he
is concerned, Christ will have died in vain. "He that believeth on the
Son hath everlasting life, and he that believeth not the Son shall not
see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." (John iii. 36.) No terms
can be imagined more simple, and more suitable to man. As good old
Latimer said, in speaking of the matter of justification, "It is but
believe and have." It is only faith that is required; and faith is
nothing more than the humble, heartfelt trust of the soul which desires
to be saved. Jesus is able and willing to save; but man must come to
Jesus and believe. All that believe are at once justified and forgiven:
but without believing there is no forgiveness at all.
Now here is exactly the point, I am afraid, where multitudes of English
people fail, and are in imminent danger of being lost for ever. They
know that there is no forgiveness of sin excepting in Christ Jesus. They
can tell you that there is no Saviour for sinners, no Redeemer, no
Mediator, excepting Him who was born of the Virgin Mary, and was
crucified under Pontius Pilate, dead, and buried. But here they stop,
and get no further! They never come to the point of actually laying hold
on Christ by faith, and becoming one with Christ and Christ in them.
They can say, He is a Saviour, but not 'my Saviour,'--a Redeemer, but
not 'my Redeemer,'--a Priest, but not 'my Priest,'--an Advocate, but not
'my Advocate:' and so they live and die unforgiven! No wonder that
Martin Luther said, "Many are lost because they cannot use possessive
pronouns." When this is the state of many in this day, no one need
wonder that I ask men whether they have received the forgiveness of
sins. An eminent Christian lady once said, in her old age,--"The
beginning of eternal life in my soul, was a conversation I had with an
old gentleman, who came to visit my father, when I was only a little
girl. He took me by the hand one day, and said, 'My dear child, my life
is nearly over, and you will probably live many years after I am gone.
But never forget two things. One is, that there is such a thing as
having our sins forgiven while we live. The other is, that there is such
a thing as knowing and feeling that we are forgiven.' I thank God I have
never forgotten his words."--How is it with us? Let us not rest till we
"know and feel," as the Prayer-book says, that we are forgiven. Once
more let us ask,--In the matter of forgiveness of sins, "How do we do?"
(5) Let me ask, in the fifth place, _whether we know anything by
experience of conversion to God_. Without conversion there is no
salvation. "Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye
shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven."--"Except a man be born
again, he cannot see the kingdom of God."--"If any man have not the
Spirit of Christ, he is none of His."--"If any man be in Christ he is a
new creature." (Matt. xviii. 3; John iii. 3; Rom. viii. 9; 2 Cor. v.
17.) We are all by nature so weak, so worldly, so earthly-minded, so
inclined to sin, that without a thorough change we cannot serve God in
life, and could not enjoy Him after death. Just as ducks, as soon as
they are hatched, take naturally to water, so do children, as soon as
they can do anything, take to selfishness, lying, and deceit; and none
pray, or love God, unless they are taught. High or low, rich or poor,
gentle or simple, we all need a complete change,--a change which it is
the special office of the Holy Ghost to give us. Call it what you
please,--new birth, regeneration, renewal, new creation, quickening,
repentance,--the thing must be had if we are to be saved: and if we have
the thing it will be _seen_.
Sense of sin and deep hatred to it, faith in Christ and love to Him,
delight in holiness and longing after more of it, love to God's people
and distaste for the things of the world,--these, these are the signs
and evidences which always accompany conversion. Myriads around us, it
may be feared, know nothing about it. They are, in Scripture language,
dead, and asleep, and blind, and unfit for the kingdom of God. Year
after year, perhaps, they go on repeating the words of the Creed, "I
believe in the Holy Ghost;" but they are utterly ignorant of His
changing operations on the inward man. Sometimes they flatter themselves
they are born again, because they have been baptized, and go to church,
and receive the Lord's Supper; while they are totally destitute of the
marks of the new birth, as described by St. John in his first Epistle.
And all this time the words of Scripture are clear and plain,--"Except
ye be converted, ye shall in no case enter the kingdom." (Matt. xviii.
3.) In times like these, no reader ought to wonder that I press the
subject of conversion on men's souls. No doubt there are plenty of sham
conversions in such a day of religious excitement as this. But bad coin
is no proof that there is no good money: nay, rather it is a sign that
there is some money current which is valuable, and is worth imitation.
Hypocrites and sham Christians are indirect evidence that there is such
a thing as real grace among men. Let us search our own hearts then, and
see how it is with ourselves. Once more let us ask, in the matter of
conversion, "How do we do?"
(6) Let me ask, in the sixth place, _whether we know anything of
practical Christian holiness_? It is as certain as anything in the Bible
that "without holiness no man shall see the Lord." (Heb. xii. 14.) It is
equally certain that it is the invariable fruit of saving faith, the
real test of regeneration, the only sound evidence of indwelling grace,
the certain consequence of vital union with Christ.--Holiness is not
absolute perfection and freedom from all faults. Nothing of the kind!
The wild words of some who talk of enjoying "unbroken communion with
God" for many months, are greatly to be deprecated, because they raise
unscriptural expectations in the minds of young believers, and so do
harm. Absolute perfection is for heaven, and not for earth, where we
have a weak body, a wicked world, and a busy devil continually near our
souls. Nor is real Christian holiness ever attained, or maintained,
without a constant fight and struggle. The great Apostle, who said "I
fight,--I labour,--I keep under my body and bring it into subjection" (1
Cor. ix. 27), would have been amazed to hear of _sanctification without
personal exertion_, and to be told that believers only need to sit
still, and everything will be done for them!
Yet, weak and imperfect as the holiness of the best saints may be, it is
a real true thing, and has a character about it as unmistakable as light
and salt. It is not a thing which begins and ends with noisy profession:
it will be _seen_ much more than _heard_. Genuine Scriptural holiness
will make a man do his duty at home and by the fireside, and adorn his
doctrine in the little trials of daily life. It will exhibit itself in
passive graces as well as in active. It will make a man humble, kind,
gentle, unselfish, good-tempered, considerate for others, loving, meek,
and forgiving. It will not constrain him to go out of the world, and
shut himself up in a cave, like a hermit. But it will make him do his
duty in that state to which God has called him, on Christian principles,
and after the pattern of Christ. Such holiness, I know well, is not
common. It is a style of practical Christianity which is painfully rare
in these days. But I can find no other standard of holiness in the Word
of God,--no other which comes up to the pictures drawn by our Lord and
His Apostles. In an age like this no reader can wonder if I press this
subject also on men's attention. Once more let us ask,--In the matter of
holiness, how is it with our souls? "How do we do?"
(7) Let me ask, in the seventh place, _whether we know anything of
enjoying the means of grace_? When I speak of the means of grace, I have
in my mind's eye five principal things,--the reading of the Bible,
private prayer, public worship, the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and
the rest of the Lord's day. They are means which God has graciously
appointed, in order to convey grace to man's heart by the Holy Ghost, or
to keep up the spiritual life after it has begun. As long as the world
stands, the state of a man's soul will always depend greatly on the
_manner and spirit_ in which he uses means of grace. The manner and
spirit, I say deliberately and of purpose. Many English people use the
means of grace regularly and formally, but know nothing of enjoying
them: they attend to them as a matter of duty, but without a jot of
feeling, interest, or affection. Yet even common sense might tell us
that this formal, mechanical use of holy things, is utterly worthless
and unprofitable. Our _feeling_ about them is just one of the many tests
of the state of our souls. How can that man be thought to love God who
reads about Him and His Christ, as a mere matter of duty, content and
satisfied if he has just moved his mark onward over so many
chapters?--How can that man suppose he is ready to meet Christ, who
never takes any trouble to pour out his heart to Him in private as a
Friend, and is satisfied with saying over a string of words every
morning and evening, under the name of "prayer," scarcely thinking what
he is about?--How could that man be happy in heaven for ever, who finds
the Sunday a dull, gloomy, tiresome day,--who knows nothing of hearty
prayer and praise, and cares nothing whether he hears truth or error
from the pulpit, or scarcely listens to the sermon?--What can be the
spiritual condition of that man whose heart never "burns within him,"
when he receives that bread and wine which specially remind us of
Christ's death on the cross, and the atonement for sin? These inquiries
are very serious and important. If means of grace had no other use, and
were not mighty helps toward heaven, they would be useful in supplying a
test of our real state in the sight of God. Tell me what a man does in
the matter of Bible-reading and praying, in the matter of Sunday, public
worship, and the Lord's Supper, and I will soon tell you what he is, and
on which road he is travelling. How is it with ourselves? Once more let
us ask,--In the matter of means of grace, "How do we do?"
(8) Let me ask, in the eighth place, _whether we ever try to do any good
in the world_? Our Lord Jesus Christ was continually "going about doing
good," while He was on earth. (Acts x. 38.) The Apostles, and all the
disciples in Bible times, were always striving to walk in His steps. A
Christian who was content to go to heaven himself, and cared not what
became of others, whether they lived happy and died in peace or not,
would have been regarded as a kind of monster in primitive times, who
had not the Spirit of Christ. Why should we suppose for a moment that a
lower standard will suffice in the present day? Why should fig trees
which bear no fruit be spared in the present day, when in our Lord's
time they were to be cut down as "cumberers of the ground"? (Luke xiii.
7.) These are serious inquiries, and demand serious answers.
There is a generation of professing Christians now-a-days, who seem to
know nothing of caring for their neighbours, and are wholly swallowed up
in the concerns of number one,--that is, their own and their family's.
They eat, and drink, and sleep, and dress, and work, and get money, and
spend money, year after year; and whether others are happy or miserable,
well or ill, converted or unconverted, travelling toward heaven or
toward hell, appear to be questions about which they are supremely
indifferent. Can this be right? Can it be reconciled with the religion
of Him who spoke the parable of the good Samaritan, and bade us "go and
do likewise"? (Luke x. 37.) I doubt it altogether.
There is much to be done on every side. There is not a place in England
where there is not a field for work, and an open door for being useful,
if any one is willing to enter it. There is not a Christian in England
who cannot find some good work to do for others, if he has only a heart
to do it. The poorest man or woman, without a single penny to give, can
always show his deep sympathy to the sick and sorrowful, and by simple
good-nature and tender helpfulness, can lessen the misery and increase
the comfort of somebody in this troubled world. But alas, the vast
majority of professing Christians, whether rich or poor, Churchmen or
Dissenters, seem possessed with a devil of detestable selfishness, and
know not the luxury of doing good. They can argue by the hour about
baptism, and the Lord's supper, and the forms of worship, and the union
of Church and State, and such-like dry-bone questions. But all this time
they seem to care nothing for their neighbours. The plain practical
point, whether they love their neighbour, as the Samaritan loved the
traveller in the parable, and can spare any time and trouble to do him
good, is a point they never touch with one of their fingers. In too
many English parishes, both in town and country, true love seems almost
dead, both in church and chapel, and wretched party-spirit and
controversy are the only fruits that Christianity appears able to
produce. In a day like this, no reader should wonder if I press this
plain old subject on his conscience. Do we know anything of genuine
Samaritan love to others? Do we ever try to do any good to any one
beside our own friends and relatives, and our own party or cause? Are we
living like disciples of Him who always "went about doing good," and
commanded His disciples to take Him for their "example"? (John xiii.
15.) If not, with what face shall we meet Him in the judgment day? In
this matter also, how is it with our souls? Once more I ask, "How do we
do?"
(9) Let me ask, in the ninth place, _whether we know anything of living
the life of habitual communion with Christ_? By "communion," I mean that
habit of "abiding in Christ" which our Lord speaks of, in the fifteenth
chapter of St. John's Gospel, as essential to Christian fruitfulness.
(John xv. 4-8.) Let it be distinctly understood that union with Christ
is one thing, and communion is another. There can be no communion with
the Lord Jesus without union first; but unhappily there may be union
with the Lord Jesus, and afterwards little or no communion at all. The
difference between the two things is not the difference between two
distinct steps, but the difference between the higher and lower ends of
an inclined plane. Union is the common privilege of all who feel their
sins, and truly repent, and come to Christ by faith, and are accepted,
forgiven, and justified in Him. Too many believers, it may be feared,
_never get beyond this stage_! Partly from ignorance, partly from
laziness, partly from fear of man, partly from secret love of the world,
partly from some unmortified besetting sin, they are content with a
little faith, and a little hope, and a little peace, and a little
measure of holiness. And they live on all their lives in this
condition--doubting, weak, halting, and bearing fruit only "thirty-fold"
to the very end of their days!
Communion with Christ is the privilege of those who are continually
striving to grow in grace, and faith, and knowledge, and conformity to
the mind of Christ in all things,--who do not "look to the things
behind," and "count not themselves to have attained," but "press toward
the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus."
(Phil. iii. 14.) Union is the bud, but communion is the flower: union is
the babe, but communion is the strong man. He that has union with Christ
does well; but he that enjoys communion with Him does far better. Both
have one life, one hope, one heavenly seed in their hearts,--one Lord,
one Saviour, one Holy Spirit, one eternal home: but union is not so good
as communion! The grand secret of communion with Christ is to be
continually "living the life of faith in Him," and drawing out of Him
every hour the supply that every hour requires. "To me," said St. Paul,
"to live is Christ."--"I live: yet not I, but Christ liveth in me."
(Gal. ii. 20; Phil. i. 21.)
Communion like this is the secret of the abiding "joy and peace in
believing," which eminent saints like Bradford and Rutherford
notoriously possessed. None were ever more humble, or more deeply
convinced of their own infirmities and corruption. They would have
told you that the seventh chapter of Romans precisely described
their own experience. They would have endorsed every word of the
"Confession" put into the mouths of true believers, in our
Prayer-book Communion Service. They would have said continually,
"The remembrance of our sins is grievous unto us; the burden of them
is intolerable." But they were ever looking unto Jesus, and in Him
they were ever able to rejoice.--Communion like this is the secret
of the splendid victories which such men as these won over sin, the
world, and the fear of death. They did not sit still idly, saying,
"I leave it all to Christ to do for me," but, strong in the Lord,
they used the Divine nature He had implanted in them, boldly and
confidently, and were "more than conquerors through Him that loved
them." (Rom. viii. 37.) Like St. Paul they would have said, "I can
do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." (Phil iv.
13.)--Ignorance of this life of communion is one among many reasons
why so many in this age are hankering after the Confessional, and
strange views of the "real presence" in the Lord's Supper. Such
errors often spring from imperfect knowledge of Christ, and obscure
views of the life of faith in a risen, living, and interceding
Saviour.
Is communion with Christ like this a common thing? Alas! it is very rare
indeed! The greater part of believers seem content with the barest
elementary knowledge of justification by faith, and half-a-dozen other
doctrines, and go doubting, limping, halting, groaning along the way to
heaven, and experience little either of the sense of victory or joy. The
Churches of these latter days are full of weak, powerless, and
uninfluential believers, saved at last, "but so as by fire," but never
shaking the world, and knowing nothing of an "abundant entrance." (1
Cor. iii. 15; 2 Pet. i. 11.) Despondency and Feeble-mind and
Much-afraid, in "Pilgrim's Progress," reached the celestial city as
really and truly as Valiant-for-the-truth and Greatheart. But they
certainly did not reach it with the same comfort, and did not do a tenth
part of the same good in the world! I fear there are many like them in
these days! When things are so in the Churches, no reader can wonder
that I inquire how it is with our souls. Once more I ask,--In the matter
of communion with Christ, "How do we do?"
(10) Let me ask, in the tenth and last place, _whether we know anything
of being ready for Christ's second coming_? That He will come again the
second time is as certain as anything in the Bible. The world has not
yet seen the last of Him. As surely as He went up visibly, and in the
body, on the Mount of Olives, before the eyes of His disciples, so
surely will He come again in the clouds of heaven, with power and great
glory. (Acts i. 11.) He will come to raise the dead, to change the
living, to reward His saints, to punish the wicked, to renew the earth,
and take the curse away,--to purify the world, even as He purified the
temple,--and to set up a kingdom where sin shall have no place, and
holiness shall be the universal rule. The Creeds which we repeat and
profess to believe, continually declare that Christ is coming again. The
ancient Christians made it a part of their religion to look for His
return. _Backward_ they looked to the cross and the atonement for sin,
and rejoiced in Christ crucified. _Upward_ they looked to Christ at the
right hand of God, and rejoiced in Christ interceding. _Forward_ they
looked to the promised return of their Master, and rejoiced in the
thought that they would see Him again. And we ought to do the same.
What have we really got from Christ? and what do we know of Him? and
what do we think of Him? Are we living as if we long to see Him again,
and love His appearing?--Readiness for that appearing is nothing more
than being a real, consistent Christian. It requires no man to cease
from his daily business. The farmer need not give up his farm, nor the
shopkeeper his counter, nor the doctor his patients, nor the carpenter
his hammer and nails, nor the bricklayer his mortar and trowel, nor the
blacksmith his smithy. Each and all cannot do better than be found doing
his duty, but doing it _as a Christian_, and with a heart packed up and
ready to be gone. In the face of truth like this no reader can feel
surprised if I ask, How is it with our souls in the matter of Christ's
second coming? The world is growing old and running to seed. The vast
majority of Christians seem like the men in the time of Noah and Lot,
who were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, planting
and building, up to the very day when flood and fire came. Those words
of our Master are very solemn and heart-searching,--"Remember Lot's
wife."--"Take heed lest at any time your heart be overcharged with the
cares of this life, and that day come upon you unawares." (Luke xvii.
32; xxi. 34.) Once more I ask,--In the matter of readiness for Christ's
second coming, "How do we do?"
I end my inquiries here. I might easily add to them; but I trust I have
said enough, at the beginning of this volume, to stir up self-inquiry
and self-examination in many minds. God is my witness that I have said
nothing that I do not feel of paramount importance to my own soul. I
only want to do good to others. Let me now conclude all with a few words
of practical application.
(_a_) Is any reader of this paper _asleep and utterly thoughtless about
religion_? Oh, awake and sleep no more! Look at the churchyards and
cemeteries. One by one the people around you are dropping into them, and
you must lie there one day. Look forward to a world to come, and lay
your hand on your heart, and say, if you dare, that you are fit to die
and meet God. Ah! you are like one sleeping in a boat drifting down the
stream towards the falls of Niagara! "What meanest thou, oh sleeper!
Arise and call upon thy God!"--"Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from
the dead, and Christ shall give thee light!" (Jonah i. 6; Eph v. 14.)
(_b_) Is any reader of this paper _feeling self-condemned, and afraid
that there is no hope for his soul_? Cast aside your fears, and accept
the offer of our Lord Jesus Christ to sinners. Hear Him saying, "Come
unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you
rest." (Matt. xi. 28.) "If any man thirst, let him come unto Me and
drink." (John vii. 37.) "Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast
out." (John vi. 37.) Doubt not that these words are for you as well as
for any one else. Bring all your sins, and unbelief, and sense of guilt,
and unfitness, and doubts, and infirmities,--bring all to Christ. "This
Man receiveth sinners," and He will receive you. (Luke xv. 2.) Do not
stand still, halting between two opinions, and waiting for a convenient
season. "Arise: He calleth thee!" Come to Christ this very day. (Mark x.
49.)
(_c_) Is any reader of this paper a professing believer in Christ, but a
_believer without much joy and peace and comfort_? Take advice this day.
Search your own heart, and see whether the fault be not entirely your
own. Very likely you are sitting at ease, content with a little faith,
and a little repentance, a little grace and a little sanctification, and
unconsciously shrinking back from extremes. You will never be a very
happy Christian at this rate, if you live to the age of Methuselah.
Change your plan, if you love life and would see good days, without
delay. Come out boldly, and act decidedly. Be thorough, thorough, very
thorough in your Christianity, and set your face fully towards the sun.
Lay aside every weight, and the sin that doth so easily beset you.
Strive to get nearer to Christ, to abide in Him, to cleave to Him, and
to sit at His feet like Mary, and drink full draughts out of the
fountain of life. "These things," says St. John, "we write unto you that
your joy may be full." (1 John i. 4.) "If we walk in the light as He is
in the light, we have fellowship one with another." (1 John i. 7.)
(_d_) Is any reader of this paper _a believer oppressed with doubts and
fears_, on account of his feebleness, infirmity, and sense of sin?
Remember the text that says of Jesus, "A bruised reed will He not break,
and smoking flax shall He not quench." (Matt. xii. 20.) Take comfort in
the thought that this text is for you. What though your faith be feeble?
It is better than no faith at all. The least grain of life is better
than death. Perhaps you are expecting too much in this world. Earth is
not heaven. You are yet in the body. Expect little from self, but much
from Christ. Look more to Jesus, and less to self.
(_e_) Finally, is any reader of this paper _sometimes downcast_ by the
trials he meets with in the way to heaven, bodily trials, family trials,
trials of circumstances, trials from neighbours, and trials from the
world? Look up to a sympathizing Saviour at God's right hand, and pour
out your heart before Him. He can be touched with the feeling of your
infirmities, for He suffered Himself being tempted.--Are you alone? So
was He. Are you misrepresented and calumniated? So was He. Are you
forsaken by friends? So was He. Are you persecuted? So was He. Are you
wearied in body and grieved in spirit? So was He.--Yes! He can feel for
you, and He can help as well as feel. Then learn to draw nearer to
Christ. The time is short. Yet a little time, and all will be over: we
shall soon be "with the Lord." "There is an end; and thine expectation
shall not be cut off." (Prov. xxiii. 18.) "Ye have need of patience,
that, after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise.
For yet a little while, and He that shall come will come, and will not
tarry." (Heb. x. 36, 37.)
II
SELF-EXERTION
"_Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for many, I say unto
you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able._"--Luke
xiii. 24.
There was once a man who asked our Lord Jesus Christ a very deep
question. He said to Him, "Lord, are there few that be saved?"
Who this man was we do not know. What his motive was for asking this
question we are not told. Perhaps he wished to gratify an idle
curiosity: perhaps he wanted an excuse for not seeking salvation
himself. The Holy Ghost has kept back all this from us: the name and
motive of the inquirer are both hidden.
But one thing is very clear, and that is the vast importance of the
saying of our Lord to which the question gave rise. Jesus seized the
opportunity to direct the minds of all around Him to their own plain
duty. He knew the train of thought which the man's inquiry had set
moving in their hearts: He saw what was going on within them. "Strive,"
He cries, "to enter in at the strait gate." Whether there be few saved
or many, your course is clear;--strive to enter in. Now is the accepted
time. Now is the day of salvation. A day shall come when many will seek
to enter in and shall not be able. "Strive to enter in now."
I desire to call the serious attention of all who read this paper to the
solemn lessons which this saying of the Lord Jesus is meant to teach.
It is one which deserves special remembrance in the present day. It
teaches unmistakeably that mighty truth, our own personal responsibility
for the salvation of our souls. It shows the immense danger of putting
off the great business of religion, as so many unhappily do. On both
these points the witness of our Lord Jesus Christ in the text is clear.
He, who is the eternal God, and who spoke the words of perfect wisdom,
says to the sons of men,--"Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for
many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able."
I. Here is a _description_ of the way of salvation. Jesus calls it
"the strait gate."
II. Here is a plain _command_. Jesus says, "Strive to enter in."
III. Here is an awful _prophecy_. Jesus says, "Many will seek to
enter in, and shall not be able."
May the Holy Ghost apply the subject to the hearts of all into whose
hands this paper may fall! May all who read it know the way of salvation
experimentally, obey the command of the Lord practically, and be found
safe in the great day of His second coming!
I. Here is a _description___ of the way of salvation. Jesus calls it
"_the strait gate_."