of the Church of England. Whatever fault men may find with the
Prayer-book, I think no one can deny the singular beauty of the Burial
Service. Beautiful are the texts which it puts into the minister's mouth
as he meets the coffin at the churchyard gate, and leads the mourners
into God's house. Beautiful is the chapter from the first Epistle to the
Corinthians about the resurrection of the body. Beautiful are the
sentences and prayers appointed to be read as the body is laid in its
long home. But specially beautiful, to my mind, are the Psalms which are
selected for reading when the mourners have just taken their places in
church. I know nothing which sounds so soothing, solemnizing,
heart-touching, and moving to man's spirit, at that trying moment, as
the wondrous utterance of the old inspired law-giver: "Lord, Thou hast
been our dwelling-place." "Lord, Thou art our home."
I want to draw from these words two thoughts that may do the readers of
this paper some good. An English home is famous all over the world for
its happiness and comfort. It is a little bit of heaven left upon earth.
But even an English home is not for ever. The family nest is sure to be
taken down, and its inmates are sure to be scattered. Bear with me for
a few short minutes, while I try to set before you the best, truest, and
happiest home.
I. The first thought that I will offer you is this:--I will show you
_what the world is_.
It is a beautiful world in many respects, I freely admit. Its seas and
rivers, its sunrises and sunsets, its mountains and valleys, its
harvests and its forests, its fruits and its flowers, its days and its
nights, all, all are beautiful in their way. Cold and unfeeling must
that heart be which never finds a day in the year when it can admire
anything in nature! But beautiful as the world is, there are many things
in it to remind us that it is not home. It is an inn, a tent, a
tabernacle, a lodging, a training school. But it is not home.
(_a_) It is a _changing_ world. All around us is continually moving,
altering, and passing away. Families, properties, landlords, tenants,
farmers, labourers, tradesmen, all are continually on the move. To find
the same name in the same dwelling for three generations running is so
uncommon, that it is the exception and not the rule. A world so full of
change cannot be called home.
(_b_) It is a _trying and disappointing_ world. Who ever lives to be
fifty years old and does not find to his cost that it is so? Trials in
married life and trials in single life,--trials in children and trials
in brothers and sisters,--trials in money matters and trials in
health,--how many they are! Their name is legion. And not the tenth part
of them perhaps ever comes to light. Few indeed are the families which
have not "a skeleton in the closet." A world so full of trial and
disappointment cannot be called home.
(_c_) It is a _dying_ world. Death is continually about us and near us,
and meets us at every turn. Few are the family gatherings, when
Christmas comes round, in which there are not some empty chairs and
vacant places. Few are the men and women, past thirty, who could not
number a long list of names, deeply cut for ever in their hearts, but
names of beloved ones now dead and gone. Where are our fathers and
mothers? Where are our ministers and teachers? Where are our brothers
and sisters? Where are our husbands and wives? Where are our neighbours
and friends? Where are the old grey-headed worshippers, whose reverent
faces we remember so well, when we first went to God's house? Where are
the boys and girls we played with when we went to school? How many must
reply, "Dead, dead, dead! The daisies are growing over their graves, and
we are left alone." Surely a world so full of death can never be called
a home.
(_d_) It is a _scattering and dividing_ world. Families are continually
breaking up, and going in different directions. How rarely do the
members of a family ever meet together again, after the surviving parent
is laid in the grave! The band of union seems snapped, and nothing welds
it again. The cement seems withdrawn from the parts of the building, and
the whole principle of cohesion is lost. How often some miserable
squabble about trinkets, or some wretched wrangle about money, makes a
breach that is never healed, and, like a crack in china, though riveted,
can never be quite cured! Rarely indeed do those who played in the same
nursery lie down at length in the same churchyard, or keep peace with
one another till they die. A world so full of division can never be
home.
These are ancient things. It is useless to be surprised at them. They
are the bitter fruit of sin, and the sorrowful consequence of the fall.
Change, trial, death, and division, all entered into the world when Adam
and Eve transgressed. We must not murmur. We must not fret. We must not
complain. We must accept the situation in which we find ourselves. We
must each do our best to lighten the sorrows, and increase the comforts
of our position. We must steadily resolve to make the best of everybody
and everything around us. But we must never, never, never, forget that
the world is not home.
Are you young? Does all around and before you seem bright, and cheerful,
and happy? Do you secretly think in your own mind that I take too gloomy
a view of the world? Take care. You will not say so by and by. Be wise
betimes. Learn to moderate your expectations. Depend on it, the less you
expect from people and things here below the happier you will be.
Are you prosperous in the world? Have death, and sickness, and
disappointment, and poverty, and family troubles, passed over your door
up to this time, and not come in? Are you secretly saying to yourself,
"Nothing can hurt me much. I shall die quietly in my bed, and see no
sorrow." Take care. You are not yet in harbour. A sudden storm of
unexpected trouble may make you change your note. Set not your affection
on things below. Hold them with a very loose hand, and be ready to
surrender them at a moment's notice. Use your prosperity well while you
have it; but lean not all your weight on it, lest it break suddenly and
pierce your hand.
Have you a happy home? Are you going to spend Christmas round a family
hearth, where sickness, and death, and poverty, and partings, and
quarrellings, have never yet been seen? Be thankful for it: oh, be
thankful for it! A really happy Christian home is the nearest approach
to heaven on earth. But take care. This state of things will not last
for ever. It must have an end; and if you are wise, you will never
forget that--"the time is short: it remaineth, that both they that have
wives be as though they had none; and they that weep, as though they
wept not; and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; and they
that buy, as though they possessed not; and they that use this world, as
not abusing it; for the fashion of this world passeth away." (1 Cor.
vii. 29--31.)
II. The second thought that I will offer you is this: I will show you
_what Christ is, even in this life, to true Christians_.
Heaven, beyond doubt, is the final home in which a true Christian will
dwell at last. Towards that he is daily travelling: nearer to that he is
daily coming. "We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were
dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands,
eternal in the heavens." (2 Cor. v. 1.) Body and soul united once more,
renewed, beautified, and perfected, will live for ever in the Father's
great house in heaven. To that home we have not yet come. We are not yet
in heaven.
But is there meanwhile no home for our souls? Is there no spiritual
dwelling-place to which we may continually repair in this desolate
world, and, repairing to it, find rest and peace? Thank God, there is no
difficulty in finding an answer to that question. There is a home
provided for all labouring and heavy-laden souls, and that home is
Christ. To know Christ by faith, to live the life of faith in Him, to
abide in Him daily by faith, to flee to Him in every storm of
conscience, to use Him as our refuge in every day of trouble, to employ
Him as our Priest, Confessor, Absolver, and spiritual Director, every
morning and evening in our lives,--this is to be at home spiritually,
even before we die. To all sinners of mankind who by faith use Christ in
this fashion, Christ is in the highest sense a dwelling-place. They can
say with truth, "We are pilgrims and strangers on earth, and yet we have
a home."
Of all the emblems and figures under which Christ is set before man, I
know few more cheering and comforting than the one before us. Home is
one of the sweetest, tenderest words in the English language. Home is
the place with which our pleasantest thoughts are closely bound up. All
that the best and happiest home is to its inmates, that Christ is to
the soul that believes on Him. In the midst of a dying, changing,
disappointing world, a true Christian has always something which no
power on earth can take away. Morning, noon, and night, he has near him
a living Refuge,--a living home for his soul. You may rob him of life,
and liberty, and money; you may take from him health, and lands, and
house, and friends; but, do what you will, you cannot rob him of his
home. Like those humblest of God's creatures which carry their shells on
their backs, wherever they are, so the Christian, wherever he goes,
carries his home. No wonder that holy Baxter sings,--
"What if in prison I must dwell,
May I not then converse with Thee?
Save me from sin, Thy wrath, and hell,--
Call me Thy child, and I am free!"
(_a_) No home like Christ! In Him there is _room for all_, and room for
all sorts. None are unwelcome guests and visitors, and none are refused
admission. The door is always on the latch, and never bolted. The best
robe, the fatted calf, the ring, the shoes are always ready for all
comers. What though in time past you have been the vilest of the vile, a
servant of sin, an enemy of all righteousness, a Pharisee of Pharisees,
a Sadducee of Sadducees, a publican of publicans? It matters nothing:
there is yet hope. All may be pardoned, forgiven, and forgotten. There
is a home and refuge where your soul may be admitted this very day. That
home is Christ. "Come unto Me," He cries: "Knock, and it shall be opened
unto you." (Matt. xi. 28; vii. 7.)
(_b_) No home like Christ! In Him there is boundless and unwearied
_mercy for all_, even after admission. None are rejected and cast forth
again after probation, because they are too weak and bad to stay. Oh,
no! Whom He receives, them He always keeps. Where He begins, there He
makes a good end. Whom He admits, them He at once fully justifies. Whom
He justifies, them He also sanctifies. Whom He sanctifies, them He also
glorifies. No hopeless characters are ever sent away from His house. No
men or women are ever found too bad to heal and renew. Nothing is too
hard for Him to do who made the world out of nothing. He who is Himself
the Home, hath said it, and will stand to it: "Him that cometh unto Me,
I will in no wise cast out." (John vi. 37.)
(_c_) No home like Christ! In Him there is unvarying _kindness_,
_patience_, _and gentle dealing for all_. He is not "an austere man,"
but "meek and lowly in heart." (Matt. xi. 29.) None who apply to Him are
ever treated roughly, or made to feel that their company is not welcome.
A feast of fat things is always provided for them. The holy Spirit is
placed in their hearts, and dwells in them as in a temple. Leading,
guiding, and instruction are daily provided for them. If they err, they
are brought back into the right way; if they fall, they are raised
again; if they transgress wilfully, they are chastised to make them
better. But the rule of the whole house is love.
(_d_) No home like Christ! In Him there is _no change_. From youth to
age He loves all who come to Him, and is never tired of doing them good.
Earthly homes, alas, are full of fickleness and uncertainty. Favour is
deceitful. Courtesy and civility are often on men's lips, while inwardly
they are weary of your company and wish you were gone. You seldom know
how long your presence is welcome, or to what extent your friends really
care to see you. But it is not so with Christ. "He is the same
yesterday, and to-day, and for ever." (Heb. xiii. 8.)
(_e_) No home like Christ! Communion once begun with Him shall _never be
broken off_. Once joined to the Lord by faith, you are joined to Him for
an endless eternity. Earthly homes always come to an end sooner or
later: the dear old furniture is sold and dispersed; the dear old heads
of the family are gathered to their fathers; the dear old nest is pulled
to pieces. But it is not so with Christ. Faith will at length be
swallowed up in sight: hope shall at last be changed into certainty. We
shall see one day with our eyes, and no longer need to believe. We shall
be moved from the lower chamber to the upper, and from the outer court
to the Holy of Holies. But once in Christ, we shall never be out of
Christ. Once let our name be placed in the Lamb's book of life, and we
belong to a home which shall continue for evermore.
(1) And now, before I conclude, let me ask every reader of this paper a
plain question. _Have you got a home for your soul?_ Is it safe? Is it
pardoned? Is it justified? Is it prepared to meet God? With all my heart
I wish you a happy home. But remember my question. Amidst the greetings
and salutations of home, amidst the meetings and partings, amidst the
laughter and merriment, amidst the joys and sympathies and affections,
think, think of my question,--Have you got a home for your soul?
Our earthly homes will soon be closed for ever. Time hastens on with
giant strides. Old age and death will be upon us before many years have
passed away. Oh, seek an abiding home for the better part of you,--the
part that never dies! Before it be too late seek a home for your soul.
Seek Christ, that you may be safe. Woe to the man who is found outside
the ark when the flood of God's wrath bursts at length on a sinful
world!--Seek Christ, that you may be happy. None have a real right to be
cheerful, merry, light-hearted, and at ease, excepting those who have
got a home for their souls. Once more I say, Seek Christ without delay.
(2) If Christ is the home of your soul, _accept a friendly caution_.
Beware of being ashamed of your home in any place or company.
The man who is ashamed of the home where he was born, the parents that
brought him up when a baby, the brothers and sisters that played with
him,--that man, as a general rule, may be set down as a mean and
despicable being. But what shall we say of the man who is ashamed of Him
who died for him on the cross? What shall we say of the man who is
ashamed of his religion, ashamed of his Master, ashamed of his home?
Take care that you are not that man. Whatever others around you please
to think, do you never be ashamed of being a Christian. Let them laugh,
and mock, and jest, and scoff, if they will. They will not scoff in the
hour of death and in the day of judgment. Hoist your flag; show your
colours; nail them to the mast. Of drinking, gambling, lying, swearing,
Sabbath-breaking, idleness, pride, you may well be ashamed. Of
Bible-reading, praying, and belonging to Christ, you have no cause to be
ashamed at all. Let those laugh that win. A good soldier is never
ashamed of his Queen's colours, and his uniform. Take care that you are
never ashamed of your Master. Never be ashamed of your home.
(3) If Christ is the home of your soul, _accept a piece of friendly
advice_. Let nothing tempt you to stray away from home.
The world and the devil will often try hard to make you drop your
religion for a little season, and walk with them. Your own flesh will
whisper that there is no danger in going a little with them, and that it
can do you no mighty harm. Take care, I say: take care when you are
tempted in this fashion. Take care of looking back, like Lot's wife.
Forsake not your home.
There are pleasures in sin no doubt, but they are not real and
satisfactory. There is an excitement and short-lived enjoyment in the
world's ways, beyond all question, but it is joy that leaves a bitter
taste behind it. Oh, no! wisdom's ways alone are ways of pleasantness,
and wisdom's paths alone are paths of peace. Cleave to them strictly
and turn not aside. Follow the Lamb whithersoever He goes. Stick to
Christ and His rule, through evil report and good report. The longer you
live the happier you will find His service: the more ready will you be
to sing, in the highest sense, "There is no place like home."
(4) If Christ is the home of your soul, _accept a hint about your duty_.
Mind that you take every opportunity of telling others about your
happiness. Tell them THAT, wherever you are. Tell them that you have a
happy home.
Tell them, if they will hear you, that you find Christ a good Master,
and Christ's service a happy service. Tell them that His yoke is easy,
and His burden is light. Tell them that, whatever the devil may say, the
rules of your home are not grievous, and that your Master pays far
better wages than the world does! Try to do a little good wherever you
are. Try to enlist more inmates for your happy home. Say to your friends
and relatives, if they will listen, as one did of old, "Come with us,
and we will do you good; for the Lord hath spoken good concerning
Israel." (Numbers x. 29.)
XVIII
HEIRS OF GOD
"_As many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of
God._
"_For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear;
but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry,
Abba, Father._
"_The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we
are the children of God_:
"_And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint heirs
with Christ; if so be that we suffer with Him, that we may be
also glorified together._"--(Romans viii. 14--17.)
The people of whom St. Paul speaks in the verses before our eyes are the
richest people upon earth. It must needs be so. They are called "heirs
of God, and joint heirs with Christ."
The inheritance of these people is the only inheritance _really worth
having_. All others are unsatisfying and disappointing. They bring with
them many cares. They cannot cure an aching heart, or lighten a heavy
conscience. They cannot keep off family troubles. They cannot prevent
sicknesses, bereavements, separations, and deaths. But there is no
disappointment among the "heirs of God."
The inheritance =I= speak of is the only inheritance _which can be kept
for ever_. All others must be left in the hour of death, if they have
not been taken away before. The owners of millions of pounds can carry
nothing with them beyond the grave. But it is not so with the "heirs of
God." Their inheritance is eternal.
The inheritance I speak of is the only inheritance _which is within
every body's reach_. Most men can never obtain riches and greatness,
though they labour hard for them all their lives. But glory, honour, and
eternal life, are offered to every man freely, who is willing to accept
them on God's terms. "Whosoever will," may be an "heir of God, and joint
heir with Christ."
If any reader of this paper wishes to have a portion of this
inheritance, let him know that he must be a member of that one family on
earth to which it belongs, and that is the family of all true
Christians. You must become one of God's children on earth, if you
desire to have glory in heaven. I write this paper in order to persuade
you to become a child of God this day, if you are not one already. I
write it to persuade you to make sure work that you are one, if at
present you have only a vague hope, and nothing more. None but true
Christians are the children of God! None but the children of God are
heirs of God! Give me your attention, while I try to unfold to you these
things, and to show the lessons contained in the verses which head this
page.
I. Let me show _the relation of all true Christians to God. They are
"sons of God._"
II. Let me show _the special evidences of this relation_. True
Christians are "_led by the Spirit_." They have "_the Spirit of
adoption_." They have the "_witness of the Spirit_." They "_suffer
with Christ_."
III. Let me show _the privileges of this relation_. True Christians
are "_heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ_."
I. First let me show _the relation of all true Christians to God_. They
are God's "Sons."
I know no higher and more comfortable word that could have been chosen.
To be servants of God,--to be subjects, soldiers, disciples,
friends,--all these are excellent titles; but to be the "sons" of God is
a step higher still. What says the Scripture? "The servant abideth not
in the house for ever, but the Son abideth ever." (John viii. 35.)
To be son of the rich and noble in this world,--to be son of the princes
and kings of the earth,--this is commonly reckoned a great temporal
advantage and privilege. But to be a son of the King of kings, and Lord
of lords,--to be a son of the High and Holy One, who inhabiteth
eternity,--this is something far higher. And yet this is the portion of
every true Christian.
The son of an earthly parent looks naturally to his father for
affection, maintenance, provision, and education. There is a home always
open to him. There is a love which, generally speaking, no bad conduct
can completely extinguish. All these are things belonging even to the
sonship of this world. Think then how great is the privilege of that
poor sinner of mankind who can say of God, "He is my Father."
But HOW can sinful men like ourselves become sons of God? When do we
enter into this glorious relationship? We are not the sons of God by
nature. We were not born so when we came into the world. No man has a
natural right to look to God as his Father. It is a vile heresy to say
that he has. Men are said to be born poets and painters,--but men are
never born sons of God. The Epistle to the Ephesians tells us, "Ye were
by nature children of wrath, even as others." (Ephes. ii. 3.) The
Epistle of St. John says, "The children of God are manifest, and the
children of the devil: whosoever doeth not righteousness is not of God."
(1 John iii. 10.) The Catechism of the Church of England wisely follows
the doctrine of the Bible, and teaches us to say, "By nature we are
born in sin, and children of wrath." Yes: we are all rather children of
the devil, than children of God! Sin is indeed hereditary, and runs in
the family of Adam. Grace is anything but hereditary, and holy men have
not, as a matter of course, holy sons. How then and when does this
mighty change and translation come upon men? When and in what manner do
sinners become the "sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty?" (2 Cor vi.
18.)
Men become sons of God in the day that the Spirit leads them to believe
on Jesus Christ for salvation, and not before.[13] What says the Epistle
to the Galatians? "Ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ
Jesus." (Gal. iii. 26.) What says the first Epistle to the Corinthians?
"Of Him are ye in Christ Jesus." (1 Cor. i. 30.) What says the Gospel of
John? "As many as received Christ, to them gave He power (or privilege)
to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name." (John
i. 12.) Faith unites the sinner to the Son of God, and makes him one of
His members. Faith makes him one of those in whom the Father sees no
spot, and is well-pleased. Faith marries him to the beloved Son of God,
and entitles him to be reckoned among the sons. Faith gives him
"fellowship with the Father and the Son." (1 John i. 3.) Faith grafts
him into the Father's family, and opens up to him a room in the Father's
house. Faith gives him life instead of death, and makes him, instead of
being a servant, a son. Show me a man that has this faith, and, whatever
be his church or denomination, I say that he is a son of God.
13: The reader will of course understand that I am not speaking now
of children who die in infancy, or of persons who live and die
idiots.
This is one of those points we should never forget. You and I know
nothing of a man's sonship _until he believes_. No doubt the sons of God
are foreknown and chosen from all eternity, and predestinated to
adoption. But, remember, it is not till they are called in due time, and
believe,--it is not till then that you and I can be certain they are
sons. It is not till they repent and believe, that the angels of God
rejoice over them. The angels cannot read the book of God's election:
they know not who are "His hidden ones" in the earth. (Ps. lxxxiii. 3.)
They rejoice over no man till he believes. But when they see some poor
sinner repenting and believing, then there is joy among them,--joy that
one more brand is plucked from the burning, and one more son and heir
born again to the Father in heaven. (Luke xv. 10.) But once more I say,
you and I know nothing certain about a man's sonship to God _until he
believes on Christ_.
I warn you to beware of the delusive notion that all men and women are
alike children of God, whether they have faith in Christ or not. It is a
wild theory which many are clinging to in these days, but one which
cannot be proved out of the Word of God. It is a perilous dream, with
which many are trying to soothe themselves, but one from which there
will be a fearful waking up at the last day.