service, _labour every year to be more thankful_. Pray that you may know
more and more what it is to "rejoice in the Lord." (Phil. iii. 1.) Learn
to have a deeper sense of your own wretched sinfulness and corruption,
and to be more deeply grateful, that by the grace of God you are what
you are. Alas, there is too much complaining and too little thanksgiving
among the people of God! There is too much murmuring and poring over the
things that we have not. There is too little praising and blessing for
the many undeserved mercies that we have. Oh, that God would pour out
upon us a great spirit of thankfulness and praise!
Believers, if you would have an increase of happiness in Christ's
service, _labour every year to do more good_. Look round the circle in
which your lot is cast, and lay yourself out to be useful. Strive to be
of the same character with God: He is not only good, but "doeth good."
(Ps. cxix. 68.) Alas, there is far too much selfishness among believers
in the present day! There is far too much lazy sitting by the fire
nursing our own spiritual diseases, and croaking over the state of our
own hearts. Up; and be useful in your day and generation! Is there no
one in all the world that you can read to? Is there no one that you can
speak to? Is there no one that you can write to? Is there literally
nothing that you can do for the glory of God, and the benefit of your
fellow-men? Oh I cannot think it! I cannot think it. There is much that
you might do, if you had only the will. For your own happiness' sake,
arise and do it, without delay. The bold, outspeaking, working
Christians are always the happiest. The more you do for God, the more
God will do for you.
The compromising lingering Christian must never expect to taste perfect
peace. THE MOST DECIDED CHRISTIAN WILL ALWAYS BE THE HAPPIEST MAN.
XI
FORMALITY
"_Having a form of godliness, but denying the power
thereof._"--2 Tim. iii. 5.
"_He is not a Jew, which is one outwardly; neither is that
circumcision, which is outward in the flesh_:
"_But he is a Jew, which is one inwardly; and circumcision is
that of the heart, in the spirit, and not in the letter; whose
praise is not of men, but of God._"--Rom. ii. 28, 29.
The texts which head this page deserve serious attention at any time.
But they deserve especial notice in this age of the Church and world.
Never since the Lord Jesus Christ left the earth, was there so much
formality and false profession as there is at the present day. Now, if
ever, we ought to examine ourselves, and search our religion, that we
may know of what sort it is. Let us try to find out whether our
Christianity is a thing of form or a thing of heart.
I know no better way of unfolding the subject than by turning to a plain
passage of the Word of God. Let us hear what St. Paul says about it. He
lays down the following great principles in his Epistle to the Romans:
"He is not a Jew, which is one outwardly; neither is that circumcision,
which is outward in the flesh: but he is a Jew, which is one inwardly;
and circumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit, not in the letter;
whose praise is not of men, but of God." (Rom. ii. 28, 29.) Three most
instructive lessons appear to me to stand out on the face of that
passage. Let us see what they are.
I. We learn, firstly, that formal religion is not religion, and a
formal Christian is not a Christian in God's sight.
II. We learn, secondly, that the heart is the seat of true religion,
and that the true Christian is the Christian in heart.
III. We learn, thirdly, that true religion must never expect to be
popular. It will not have the "praise of man, but of God."
Let us thoroughly consider these great principles. Two hundred years
have passed away since a mighty Puritan divine said, "Formality,
formality, formality is the great sin of England at this day, under
which the land groans.--There is more light than there was, but less
life; more shadow, but less substance; more profession, but less
sanctification." (_Thomas Hall, on 2 Tim. iii. 5, 1658._) What would
this good man have said if he had lived in our times?
I. We learn first, that _formal religion is not religion, and a formal
Christian is not a Christian in God's sight_.
What do I mean when I speak of formal religion? This is a point that
must be made clear. Thousands, I suspect, know nothing about it. Without
a distinct understanding of this point my whole paper will be useless.
My first step shall be to paint, describe, and define.
When a man is a Christian in name only, and not in reality,--in outward
things only, and not in his inward feelings,--in profession only, and
not in practice,--when his Christianity in short is a mere matter of
form, or fashion, or custom, without any influence on his heart or
life,--in such a case as this the man has what I call a "formal
religion." He possesses indeed the _form_, or husk, or skin of religion,
but he does not possess its substance or its _power_.
Look for example at those thousands of people whose whole religion seems
to consist in keeping religious ceremonies and ordinances. They attend
regularly on public worship. They go regularly to the Lord's table. But
they never get any further. They know nothing of experimental
Christianity. They are not familiar with the Scriptures, and take no
delight in reading them. They do not separate themselves from the ways
of the world. They draw no distinction between godliness and ungodliness
in their friendships, or matrimonial alliances. They care little or
nothing about the distinctive doctrines of the Gospel. They appear
utterly indifferent as to what they hear preached. You may be in their
company for weeks, and for anything you may hear or see on a week day
you might suppose they were infidels or deists. What can be said about
these people? They are Christians undoubtedly, by profession; and yet
there is neither heart nor life in their Christianity. There is but one
thing to be said about them.--They are formal Christians. Their religion
is a FORM.
Look in another direction at those hundreds of people whose whole
religion seems to consist in talk and high profession. They know the
theory of the Gospel with their heads, and profess to delight in
Evangelical doctrine. They can say much about the "soundness" of their
own views, and the "darkness" of all who disagree with them. But they
never get any further! When you examine their inner lives you find that
they know nothing of practical godliness. They are neither truthful, nor
charitable, nor humble, nor honest, nor kind-tempered, nor gentle, nor
unselfish, nor honourable. What shall we say of these people? They are
Christians, no doubt, in name, and yet there is neither substance nor
fruit in their Christianity. There is but one thing to be said.--They
are formal Christians. Their religion is an empty FORM.
Such is the formal religion against which I wish to raise a warning
voice this day. Here is the rock on which myriads on every side are
making miserable shipwreck of their souls. One of the wickedest things
that Machiavel ever said was this: "Religion itself should not be cared
for, but only the appearance of it. The credit of it is a help; the
reality and use is a cumber." Such notions are of the earth, earthy.
Nay, rather they are from beneath: they smell of the pit. Beware of
them, and stand upon your guard. If there is anything about which the
Scripture speaks expressly, it is the sin and uselessness of FORMALITY.
Hear what St. Paul tells the Romans: "He is not a Jew which is one
outwardly, neither is that circumcision which is outward in the flesh."
(Rom. ii. 28.) These are strong words indeed! A man might be a son of
Abraham according to the flesh,--a member of one of the twelve
tribes,--circumcised the eighth day,--a keeper of all the feasts,--a
regular worshipper in the temple,--and yet in God's sight not be a
Jew!--Just so a man may be a Christian by outward profession,--a member
of a Christian Church,--baptized with Christian baptism,--an attendant
on Christian ordinances,--and yet, in God's sight, not a Christian at
all.
Hear what the prophet Isaiah says: "To what purpose is the multitude of
your sacrifices unto Me? saith the Lord: I am full of the burnt
offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts; and I delight not in the
blood of bullocks or of lambs, or of he-goats. When ye come to appear
before Me, who hath required this at your hand, to tread my courts?
Bring no more vain oblations: incense is an abomination unto Me; the new
moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with; it
is iniquity, even the solemn meeting. Your new moons and your appointed
feasts my soul hateth: they are a trouble unto Me: I am weary to bear
them. And when ye spread forth your hands I will hide mine eyes from
you; yea, when ye make many prayers I will not hear: your hands are full
of blood." (Isaiah i. 10--15.) These words, when duly weighed, are very
extraordinary. The sacrifices which are here declared to be useless were
appointed by God Himself! The feasts and ordinances which God says He
"hates," had been prescribed by Himself! God Himself pronounces His own
institutions to be useless when they are used formally and without heart
in the worshipper! In fact they are worse than useless; they are even
offensive and hurtful. Words cannot be imagined more distinct and
unmistakeable. They show that formal religion is worthless in God's
sight. It is not worth calling religion at all.
Hear, lastly, what our Lord Jesus Christ says. We find Him saying of the
Jews of His day, "This people draweth nigh unto Me with their mouth, and
honoureth Me with their lips; but their heart is far from Me. But in
vain do they worship Me." (Matt. xv. 8.) We see Him repeatedly
denouncing the formalism and hypocrisy of the scribes and Pharisees, and
warning His disciples against it. Eight times in one chapter (Matt.
xxiii. 13) He says to them, "Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees,
hypocrites!" For sinners of the worst description He always had a word
of kindness, and held out to them an open door. But formalism, He would
have us know, is a desperate disease, and must be exposed in the
severest language. To the eye of an ignorant man a formalist may seem to
have a very decent _quantity_ of religion, though not perhaps of the
best _quality_. In the eye of Christ, however, the case is very
different. In His sight formality is no religion at all.
What shall we say to these testimonies of Scripture? It would be easy
to add to them. They do not stand alone. If words mean anything, they
are a clear warning to all who profess and call themselves Christians.
They teach us plainly that as we dread sin and avoid sin, so we ought to
dread formality and avoid formality. Formalism may take our hand with a
smile, and look like a brother, while sin comes against us with sword
drawn, and strikes at us like an open enemy. But both have one end in
view. Both want to ruin our souls; and of the two, formalism is far the
most likely to do it. If we love life, let us beware of formality in
religion.
Nothing is _so common_. It is one of the great family diseases of the
whole race of mankind. It is born with us, grows with us, and is never
completely cast out of us till we die. It meets us in church, and it
meets us in chapel. It meets us among rich, and it meets us among poor.
It meets us among learned people, and it meets us among unlearned. It
meets us among Romanists, and it meets us among Protestants. It meets us
among High Churchmen, and it meets us among Low Churchmen. It meets us
among Evangelicals, and it meets us among Ritualists. Go where we will,
and join what Church we may, we are never beyond the risk of its
infection. We shall find it among Quakers and Plymouth Brethren, as well
as at Rome. The man who thinks that, at any rate, there is no formal
religion in his own camp, is a very blind and ignorant person. If you
love life, beware of formality.
Nothing is _so dangerous_ to a man's own soul. Familiarity with the form
of religion, while we neglect its reality, has a fearfully deadening
effect on the conscience. It brings up by degrees a thick crust of
insensibility over the whole inner man. None seem to become so
desperately hard as those who are continually repeating holy words and
handling holy things, while their hearts are running after sin and the
world. Landlords who only go to church formally, to set an example to
their tenants,--masters who have family prayers formally, to keep up a
good appearance in their households,--unconverted clergymen, who are
every week reading prayers and lessons of Scripture, in which they feel
no real interest,--unconverted clerks, who are constantly reading
responses and saying "Amen," without feeling what they say,--unconverted
singers, who sing the most spiritual hymns every Sunday, merely because
they have good voices, while their affections are entirely on things
below,--all, all, all are in awful danger. They are gradually hardening
their hearts, and searing the skin of their consciences. If you love
your own soul, beware of formality.
Nothing, finally, is _so foolish_, senseless, and unreasonable. Can a
formal Christian really suppose that the mere outward Christianity he
professes will comfort him in the day of sickness and the hour of death?
The thing is impossible. A painted fire cannot warm, and a painted
banquet cannot satisfy hunger, and a formal religion cannot bring peace
to the soul.--Can he suppose that God does not see the heartlessness and
deadness of his Christianity? Though he may deceive neighbours,
acquaintances, fellow-worshippers, and ministers with a form of
godliness, does he think that he can deceive God? The very idea is
absurd. "He that formed the eye, shall He not see?" He knows the very
secrets of the heart. He will "judge the secrets of men" at the last
day. He who said to each angel of the seven Churches, "I know thy
works," is not changed. He who said to the man without the wedding
garment, "Friend, how camest thou in hither?" will not be deceived by a
little cloak of outward religion. If you would not be put to shame at
the last day, once more I say, beware of formality. (Psalm xciv. 9; Rom.
ii. 16; Rev. ii. 2; Matt. xxii. 11.)
II. I pass on to the second thing which I proposed to consider. _The
heart is the seat of true religion, and the true Christian is the
Christian in heart._
The heart is the real test of a man's character. It is not what he says
or what he does by which the man may be always known. He may say and do
things that are right, from false and unworthy motives, while his heart
is altogether wrong. The heart is the man. "As he thinketh in his heart,
so is he." (Prov. xxiii. 7.)
The heart is the right test of a man's religion. It is not enough that a
man holds a correct creed of doctrine, and maintains a proper outward
form of godliness. What is his heart?--That is the grand question. This
is what God looks at. "Man looketh at the outward appearance, but the
Lord looketh at the heart." (1 Sam. xvi. 7.) This is what St. Paul lays
down distinctly as the standard measure of the soul: "He is a Jew, which
is one inwardly; and circumcision is that of the heart." (Rom. ii. 28.)
Who can doubt that this mighty sentence was written for Christians as
well as for Jews? He is a Christian, the apostle would have us know,
which is one inwardly, and baptism is that of the heart.
The heart is the place where saving religion must begin. It is naturally
irreligious, and must be renewed by the Holy Ghost. "A new heart will I
give unto you."--It is naturally hard, and must be made tender and
broken. "I will take away the heart of stone, and I will give you a
heart of flesh." "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken
and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise."--It is naturally
closed and shut against God, and must be opened. The Lord "opened the
heart" of Lydia. (Ezek. xxxvi. 26; Psalm li. 17; Acts xvi. 14.)
The heart is the seat of true saving faith. "With the heart man
believeth unto righteousness." (Rom. x. 10.) A man may believe that
Jesus is the Christ, as the devils do, and yet remain in his sins. He
may believe that he is a sinner, and that Christ is the only Saviour,
and feel occasional lazy wishes that he was a better man. But no one
ever lays hold on Christ, and receives pardon and peace, until he
believes with the heart. It is heart-faith that justifies.
The heart is the spring of true holiness and steady continuance in
well-doing. True Christians are holy because their hearts are
interested. They obey from the heart. They do the will of God from the
heart. Weak, and feeble, and imperfect as all their doings are, they
please God, because they are done from a loving heart. He who commended
the widow's mite more than all the offerings of the wealthy Jews,
regards quality far more than quantity. What He likes to see is a thing
done from "an honest and good heart." (Luke viii. 15.) There is no real
holiness without a right heart.
The things I am saying may sound strange. Perhaps they run counter to
all the notions of some into whose hands this paper may fall. Perhaps
you have thought that if a man's religion is correct outwardly, he must
be one with whom God is well pleased. You are completely mistaken. You
are rejecting the whole tenor of Bible teaching. Outward correctness
without a right heart is neither more nor less than Pharisaism. The
outward things of Christianity,--baptism, the Lord's Supper,
Church-membership, almsgiving, and the like,--will never take any man's
soul to heaven, unless his heart is right. There must be inward things
as well as outward,--and it is on the inward things that God's eyes are
chiefly fixed.
Hear how St. Paul teaches us about this matter in three most striking
texts: "In Jesus Christ neither circumcision availeth anything, nor
uncircumcision; but faith that worketh by love."--"In Christ Jesus
neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new
creature."--"Circumcision is nothing, and uncircumcision is nothing, but
the keeping of the commandments of God." (1 Cor. vii. 19; Galat. v. 6;
Galat. vi. 15.) Did the Apostle only mean in these texts, that
circumcision was no longer needed under the Gospel? Was that all? No
indeed! I believe he meant much more. He meant that true religion did
not consist of forms, and that its essence was something far greater
than being circumcised or not circumcised. He meant that under Christ
Jesus, everything depended on being born again,--on having true saving
faith,--on being holy in life and conduct. He meant that these are the
things we ought to look at chiefly, and not at outward forms. "Am I a
new creature? Do I really believe on Christ? Am I a holy man?" These are
the grand questions that we must seek to answer.
_When the heart is wrong all is wrong in God's sight._ Many right things
may be done. The forms and ordinances which God Himself has appointed
may seem to be honoured. But so long as the heart is at fault God is not
pleased. He will have man's heart or nothing.
The ark was the most sacred thing in the Jewish tabernacle. On it was
the mercy-seat. Within it were the tables of the law, written by God's
own finger. The High Priest alone was allowed to go into the place where
it was kept, within the veil, and that only once every year. The
presence of the ark with the camp was thought to bring a special
blessing. And yet this very ark could do the Israelites no more good
than any common wooden box, when they trusted to it like an idol, with
their hearts full of wickedness. They brought it into the camp, on a
special occasion, saying, "Let us fetch the ark, that it may save us out
of the hand of our enemies." (1 Sam iv. 3.) When it came in the camp
they showed it all reverence and honour. "They shouted with a great
shout, so that the earth rang again." But it was all in vain. They were
smitten before the Philistines, and the ark itself was taken. And why
was this? It was because their religion was a mere form. They honoured
the ark, but did not give the God of the ark their hearts.
There were some kings of Judah and Israel who did many things that were
right in God's sight, and yet were never written in the list of godly
and righteous men. Rehoboam began well, and "for three years walked in
the way of David and Solomon." (2 Chron. xi. 17.) But afterwards "he did
evil, because he prepared not his _heart_ to seek the Lord." (2 Chron.
xii. 14.)--Abijah, according to the book of Chronicles, said many things
that were right, and fought successfully against Jeroboam. Nevertheless
the general verdict is against him. We read, in Kings, that "his _heart_
was not perfect with the Lord his God." (1 Kings xv. 3.)--Amaziah, we
are expressly told, "did that which was right in the sight of the Lord,
but not with a perfect _heart_." (2 Chron. xxv. 2.)--Jehu, King of
Israel, was raised up, by God's command, to put down idolatry. He was a
man of special zeal in doing God's work. But unhappily it is written of
him: "He took no heed to walk in the law of the Lord God of Israel with
all his _heart_: for he departed not from the sins of Jeroboam, which
made Israel to sin." (2 Kings x. 31.) In short, one general remark
applies to all these kings. They were all wrong inwardly. They were
rotten at heart.
There are places of worship in England at this very day where all the
outward things of religion are done to perfection. The building is
beautiful. The service is beautiful. The singing is beautiful. The forms
of devotion are beautiful. There is everything to gratify the senses.
Eye, and ear, and natural sentimentality are all pleased. But all this
time God is not pleased. One thing is lacking, and the want of that one
thing spoils all. What is that one thing? It is heart! God sees under
all this fair outward show the form of religion put in the place of the
substance, and when He sees that He is displeased. He sees nothing with
an eye of favour in the building, the service, the minister, or the
people, if He does not see converted, renewed, broken, penitent hearts.
Bowed heads, bended knees, loud amens, crossed hands, faces turned to
the east, all, all are nothing in God's sight without right hearts.
_When the heart is right God can look over many things that are
defective._ There may be faults in judgment, and infirmities in
practice. There may be many deviations from the best course in the
outward things of religion. But if the heart is sound in the main, God
is not extreme to mark that which is amiss. He is merciful and gracious,
and will pardon much that is imperfect, when He sees a true heart and a
single eye.
Jehoshaphat and Asa were Kings of Judah, who were defective in many
things. Jehoshaphat was a timid, irresolute man, who did not know how to
say "No," and joined affinity with Ahab, the wickedest king that ever
reigned over Israel. Asa was an unstable man, who at one time trusted in
the King of Syria more than in God, and at another time was wroth with
God's prophet for rebuking him. (2 Chron. xvi. 10.) Yet both of them had
one great redeeming point in their characters. With all their faults
they had right _hearts_.
The passover kept by Hezekiah was one at which there were many
irregularities. The proper forms were not observed by many. They ate the
passover "otherwise than the commandment" ordered. But they did it with
true and honest _hearts_. And we read that Hezekiah prayed for them,
saying, "The good Lord pardon every one that prepareth his heart to seek
God,--though he be not cleansed according to the purification of the
sanctuary. And the Lord hearkened to Hezekiah, and healed the people."
(2 Chron. xxx. 20.)
The passover kept by Josiah must have been far smaller and worse
attended than scores of passovers in the days of David and Solomon, or
even in the reign of Jehoshaphat and Hezekiah. How then can we account
for the strong language used in Scripture about it? "There was no
passover like to that kept in Israel from the days of Samuel the
prophet; neither did all the Kings of Israel keep such a passover as
Josiah kept, and the Priests, and the Levites, and all Judah and
Jerusalem that were present." (2 Chron. xxxv. 18.) There is but one
explanation. There never was a passover at which the _hearts_ of the
worshippers were so truly in the feast. The Lord does not look at the
quantity of worshippers so much as the quality. The glory of Josiah's
passover was the state of people's hearts.