our place or our position. I know not how else to express the force
of the inquiry, "Where art thou?" It may be read literally--of
place. May not some one of those here assembled have been, ere
now, perhaps often, perhaps quite recently, in some place in which
the question, "Where art thou?" would have had a startling and
condemning sound?--some place where he was sinning? some place where
he had gone to sin? some place where he would not for the world have
been seen by any human eye, and where he gladly forgot that there
was yet one eye which did see him? Oh, if God stood this night upon
earth, and called aloud to the "Adam" of this generation--to the
men and women who form now the sum of the living human creation;
if He should call them suddenly from the east and from the west to
avow exactly where they were, and to come forth from that place as
they were, without an instant allowed them to cover up and disguise
themselves; oh, what a revelation would it be of action and of
character! Oh, who might abide the scrutiny of that question? Oh,
who could stand when that inquirer appeared? But, even if the
literal local question could be well answered, there would remain
yet another behind applicable to all men. "Where art thou?" is an
inquiry as to position no less than place. It says, "What is thy
present place as a man with a soul, as an immortal being? What is
thy present standing, thy present state? Art thou safe? Art thou
happy? Art thou useful? Art thou doing the work I gave thee to do?
Is it well with thee in the present? Is it well with thee in the
future? Say not, I can not answer, I know not. I have taught thee
how to judge of thyself; now therefore advise, and see what answer
thou wilt return to Him that made thee."
My brethren, I propose, in the last place, that we all answer this
question. It is a very serious thing to do; and it is what no man
can do for his brother. Each one of us has one secret place, one
sanctuary within the veil, into which, not even once a year, not
even in the character of a high priest, can earthly foot ever enter.
Yet in that secret place shines forth the light of God's presence;
a light never put out altogether in any man, so far at least as
its disclosing and revealing character is concerned, until sin and
perverseness have done their perfect work, and the awful words are
at length fulfilled, "If the light that is in thee be darkness, how
great is that darkness!" At present, we will humbly hope, that this
last ruin has not been wrought in any one who hears me. And if not,
I repeat it, we can all, if we will, answer God's question, when He
calls to each of us, as He does this night, and says, "Where art
thou?"
One of us, perhaps, answers, if he speaks truly, I am wandering.
I have left my Father's home; I took my portion of His goods, and
carried them away into a far country. Yes, He was very generous
to me; He grudged me nothing; life and health, food and clothing,
even success in the world, even human friendship and human love, He
gave me all these, and upbraided not: He warned me that I should be
sorry one day if I left Him; He cautioned me against the perils of
my way; He told me that I should not find happiness; He bade me, if
I wished for that, to stay; He bade me, if I should ever be sorry
that I had gone, to arise instantly and return. My heart was young
then, and I thought I knew best; I left Him, with little feeling,
with much expectation; His last look was one of regretful love that
I left Him and I am a wanderer still. Sometimes I have arisen to
go to my Father, but I went not: I was ashamed, I was afraid, I
thought I was too sinful, I felt myself unstable, I feared that I
might relapse, I dreaded reproach, I dreaded ridicule, I dreaded,
above all, the sight of that face:--and thus stayed where I was,
in the far country--I am a wanderer, an outcast still. And another
answers, like him to whom the question in the text was first put,
I am hiding. I have sinned and I have not repented. I have eaten of
the tree of which God said to me, "Thou shalt not eat of it, neither
shalt thou touch it, lest thou die." I believed the creature more
than the Creator--the tempter more than the Savior. I went to the
edge of temptation; I desired forbidden knowledge first, and then
I could not rest until I knew by experience also; and now my heart
is defiled, my conscience is defiled, my life is defiled; I have
lost all right to the beatific vision, for I am no longer pure in
heart; now, when I hear the voice of the Lord God, I hide myself,
because I know myself sinful, and because I know that He is of purer
eyes than to look upon or tolerate iniquity. And another answers,
I am resting. Earth is very pleasant to me; I have toiled and I
have reaped; I have gathered myself a competence; I have found the
happiness of lawful love; I have built myself a nest here, I have
fenced it against the blasts of fortune, I am warm and tranquil
within: let me alone a little while; it is not long that I can enjoy
it; soon calamity may come, loss, sickness, death, into my peaceful
home; then I will turn and seek Thee--not yet, O not just yet!
And another says, I am working. Am I not doing Thy work? Am I not
discharging the duties of my station? Am I not setting an example of
diligence and sobriety? Am I not availing myself of the faculties
which Thou has given to make myself respectable, and useful, and
exemplary in my generation? How can I do all this, and yet be
religious? How can I find time for both worlds at once? But yet,
indeed, am I not providing for that other world in making a proper
use of this? Let me alone a little while; when I have a convenient
season, I will call for Thee. And another says, honestly, I am
trifling. The world is so gay, so amusing, so exciting: hast Thou
not made it so for our enjoyment? Oh, grudge me not my brief time
of mirth and forgetfulness; I shall be serious enough one day. And
another says, I am coming. Yes, I am on my way. This is no world,
I see it, of rest for me. There is no peace but in God: I sought
it once elsewhere, and found it not: now I know my error; yes, I
am coming, I am coming, I am on my way: but give me time: so great
a change cannot be wrought all at once: heaven cannot be won in a
day: give me time, and I will reach Thee. I am now using the means:
I pray, I read the Bible, I go to Thy House, I partake in Christ's
supper: surely this is the way to Thee!
Yes, my brother, but why this delay? Why this postponement of the
desired result? Wilt thou be any fitter to-morrow than to-day
for that step across the barrier which now seems so premature,
so presumptuous? The word is very nigh thee: it is in thy mouth,
it is in thy heart--thou knowest it well, even the word of
faith--"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ," at once, "and thou shalt
be saved. Come unto me"--not to-morrow, but to-day--"all ye that
labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Are there any
here present--God grant that they be many!--who have yet one other
answer to return to the question on which we have dwelt? Thou sayest
to me, O Lord, "Where art thou?" Lord, I am a sinner in a world
of danger; and I have learned that danger in myself; for I have
fallen, and I have sinned against Thee, times without number; yet by
Thy grace I have risen, and I have returned to Thee, and Thou hast
accepted me in Thy Son, and hast endued me, according to my need,
with Thy Holy Spirit. And now, Lord, my life is hid with Christ in
Thee: He is my trust, He is my life, He is my hope, and the life
that I now live upon earth, I live by faith in Him. Under Thy care,
doing Thy work, thankful for Thy mercies, trusting in Thy strength,
even now I am Thine, and hereafter I shall see Thee. Guide Thou my
steps, make Thy way plain before me, in the days that remain to me,
and at last receive me to Thyself, disciplined, humbled, sanctified,
that I may rest in Thee forever, and forever see Thy glory!
My brethren, the work of God in each of us would be almost
accomplished if this one call were heard within. Once let us know
that God is speaking to us, and that He waits an answer; once let
us feel that He is, and that He will have us to be saved, and all
the rest will follow. May it be so now! May some wanderer this
night return to his Father; some hiding soul this night come forth
from its lurking place; some builder upon the sand lay this night
his foundations upon the rock; some trifler be made serious; some
worldly man turned heavenward--so that all may have cause to bless
God for His word here spoken, and ascribe to Him, through eternal
ages, thanksgiving, and blessing, and praise!
NEWMAN HALL
CHRISTIAN VICTORY
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
CHRISTOPHER NEWMAN HALL, Congregational divine, was born at
Maidstone, Kent, in 1816. He was widely known as a writer, lecturer,
and preacher of great eloquence. During the Civil War he was
enthusiastic in advocating the cause of the North, and subsequently
two extended tours in the United States brought him international
fame. His tract, "Come to Jesus," published in 1846, has been
translated into over twenty languages. He died in 1902.
NEWMAN HALL
1816-1902
CHRISTIAN VICTORY
_To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and
will give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written,
which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it._--Rev. ii., 17.
The Christian life is often compared in Scripture to a warfare.
Followers of Jesus are "soldiers." They are exhorted to put on "the
whole armor of God." They "fight the good fight of faith." Some of
you have been engaged in the conflict: others have more recently
entered upon it. But, whether young or old in the Christian career,
all find it necessary to be constantly stirred up to watchfulness
against the never-ceasing assaults of the foe. It is not enough to
put on the armor and to commence the battle. He that overcometh, and
he alone, will receive the salutation, "Well done, good and faithful
servant,"--he alone shall "lay hold upon eternal life."
But we are not left to fight without encouragement. As generals
before a battle go in front of their troops to stimulate them
to valor, so Christ, the Captain of our Salvation, leads on
the consecrated hosts of His elect; and having himself set us a
glorious example of valor and victory, animates us to follow in His
footsteps by the "exceeding great and precious promises" of His
word. Christian warrior! let your eye be lifted up to Him. Behold
Him beckoning you onward. Listen to Him, as from His throne of
glory He exhorts you to persevering valor against the foe; and pray
earnestly that His promise may be fulfilled in your case: "To him
that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will
give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which
no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it."
Let us consider first, the promise; then, the condition attached to
it.
I. The promise. This is twofold,--the hidden manna and the white
stone.
1. The hidden manna.--God fed the Israelites in the wilderness
with manna. A portion of this was laid by in the ark, and thus was
hidden from public view. It is here referred to as a figurative
representation of the spiritual blessings bestowed upon the victor
in the heavenly fight. Christ, speaking of the manna as a type of
Himself, said, "I am the bread which came down from heaven." The
manna in the wilderness sustained the life of the Israelites.
But there is another life more important than that of the body. By
sin the soul is dead, dead toward God. By the Holy Spirit, the
"dead in trespasses and sins" are "quickened," or made alive. As the
life of the new-born infant cannot be preserved without food, so
the new spiritual life which God imparts needs continual support.
Both the life, and the nourishing of it, come from Christ, and
Christ alone. By His sacrifice that life becomes possible; and by
His spirit working within our hearts that life becomes actual. He
sustains as well as imparts spiritual vitality. He is the food of
our faith: "believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved." He is the food of our love: "we love him because he first
loved us." He is the food of our obedience: "the love of Christ
constraineth us." He is the food of our peace: for when "justified
by faith, we have peace with God through Jesus Christ our Lord." He
is the food of our joy: for if "we joy in God" it is "through Jesus
Christ our Lord."
The manna which sustained the Israelites was evidently the gift of
God. And so this "hidden manna" is from heaven. It is no contrivance
of man--no philosophy of human invention. It is a divine plan for
the salvation of our ruined race. "God so loved the world that he
gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should
not perish but should have everlasting life." That manna in the
wilderness was sweet to the taste; yet they who fed on it grew
weary of it. But the more we eat of the bread of life, the more
we relish it--the greater is our appetite for it. That manna in
the wilderness was needed daily. And so with this heavenly bread.
Yesterday's supply will not suffice for to-day. The prayer is as
needful for the soul as for the body: "Give us this day our daily
bread." But if that manna was needed daily, so it was supplied; none
went in vain at the appointed season--and no soul that "hungers
and thirsts after righteousness" is sent empty away. The manna was
supplied to the Israelites till they came to the promised land--so
God has promised that His grace shall not fail His people through
their wanderings.
It is spoken of as the "hidden manna." Such is the Christian's life.
"Our life is hid with Christ in God." The outward effects of it may
be seen, but the inner life is invisible. So is the nourishing of
the life. You may see the Christian on his knees, you may hear the
words which he utters, but you cannot see the streams of divine
influence which are poured into his spirit; nor hear the sweet
whispers of divine love which fill him with joy; nor comprehend the
peace passing all understanding which he is permitted to experience.
Unbelievers are often amazed at what they see in the Christian. He
is troubled on every side, yet not in despair. Waves of sorrow beat
upon his frail vessel, yet it does not sink. Men now threaten, now
allure, but he holds on his way. What to others is an irresistible
charm, is no attraction to him. What is a terror to others, deters
not him. Why does he not faint beneath the burden? why does he not
sink in the storm? Because he eats of the "hidden manna." "The
secret of the Lord is with them that fear him." "He hath taken him
into his banqueting-room, and the banner over him is love."
Were this promise merely the reward of final victory, that victory
itself would never be gained. We need to eat this manna during our
pilgrimage. We cannot live without it. Every act of overcoming will
be followed by a verification of the promise, "I will give him to
eat of the hidden manna." Yet we must look beyond the present life
for its full accomplishment. "To him that overcometh" at the last
"shall be given the hidden manna," in a sense of which at present we
have but a very faint conception.
As the manna was hidden in the ark, and that ark was hidden behind
the curtain of the Holy of Holies, so the Christian's hope, "as
an anchor of the soul, sure and stedfast, enters into that which
is within the veil." Those joys we cannot yet conjecture; their
splendor is too intense; we should be blinded by excessive light; we
should be overpowered by the excellent glory.
One look of heaven would unfit us for earth. It is wisely appointed
that at present this manna should in one sense be hidden, even from
ourselves. We are as yet but babes--such strong meat would not suit
us now; we must be content with simpler fare. But oh! if the manna,
tho at present so partially and imperfectly appreciated, can produce
such peace and joy, what must be the bliss of entering into the
holiest of all, and there, in the presence of God Himself, feasting
on it eternally! Unceasing, unlimited reception of divine influences
into the soul!
Uninterrupted fellowship with Him who is the only fountain of life,
and purity, and happiness! Perfect love! But at present such full
fruition is "hidden." "Now we see through a glass darkly"; "now we
know but in part"; "it doth not yet appear what we shall be." But
how unspeakably blest are they to whom, partially in this world and
perfectly in the next, the promise shall be verified: "To him that
overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna"!
2. The white stone.--Reference is made to the _tessera hospitalis_,
the tally or token of hospitality employed by the ancients. At a
time when houses of public entertainment were less common, private
hospitality was the more necessary. When one person was received
kindly by another, or a contract of friendship was entered into,
the _tessera_ was given. It was so named from its shape, being
four-sided; it was sometimes of wood; sometimes of stone; it was
divided into two by the contracting parties; each wrote his own name
on half of the _tessera_; then they exchanged pieces, and therefore
the name or device on the piece of _tessera_ which each received,
was the name the other person had written upon it, and which no one
else knew but him who received it. It was carefully prized, and
entitled the bearer to protection and hospitality.
Plautus, in one of his playes, refers to this custom. Hanno inquires
of a stranger where he may find Agorastocles, and discovers to his
surprize that he is addressing the object of his search.
"If so," he says, "compare, if you please, this hospitable
_tessera_; here it is; I have it with me."
Agorastocles replies, "It is the exact counterpart; I have the other
part at home."
Hanno responds, "O my friend! I rejoice to meet thee; thy father was
my friend, my guest; I divided with him this hospitable _tessera_."
"Therefore," said Agorastocles, "thou shalt have a home with me, for
I reverence hospitality."
Beautiful illustration of gospel truth! The Savior visits the
sinner's heart, and being received as a guest, bestows the white
stone, the token of His unchanging love. It is not we who in the
first instance desire this compact. Far from it.
But Jesus, anxious to bless us, kindly forces Himself on our regard.
By His spirit, he persuades us to give Him admission to our hearts.
"Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any man hear my voice
and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him,
and he with me." We often disregarded His appeal. Yet, with what
condescending kindness did he persevere! And when at length we
opened the door, we saw Him laden with blessings which He had been
long waiting to bestow. The feast which was then spread was all
of His providing. He who went to be "the guest of one that was a
sinner," inverts the usual course. He invites Himself and brings the
feast. What have we fit to set before so august and holy a visitant?
But He who chooses the sinner's heart as His banqueting-chamber,
spreads there His choicest gifts, His exceeding great and precious
promises, His finished sacrifice, His human sympathy, His perfect
example, His pure precepts, His all-prevailing intercession, the
various developments of His infinite love.
He "sups with us," and makes us "sup with Him." He enrolls our
name among His friends. "He makes an everlasting covenant with us,
ordered in all things and sure." He promises never to leave nor
forsake us. He tells us we "shall never perish." He gives us the
_tessera_, the white stone!
Is not this "the witness of the Spirit," the "earnest of the
promised possession"? Does not "the Spirit witness with our spirit
that we are born of God"? Does not our experience of the friendship
of Jesus correspond with what we are taught of it in the Scriptures?
"I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to
keep that which I have committed unto him, against that day." The
"love of God is shed abroad" in the heart of the believer. He says,
with humble confidence, "My Lord, and my God!"
On this white stone is inscribed a "new name." The part of the
_tessera_ which each of the contracting parties received contained
the name of the other. And, therefore, "the new name" on the "white
stone," which he that overcometh receives, is that of Him who gives.
By the unbeliever, God is known as Power, as Majesty, as Justice. He
is dreaded. "The carnal mind is enmity against God." The Christian
alone knows Him as "Love!" Jehovah has now "a new name." He was once
a ruler--now He is Friend; He was once judge--now He is Father.
Do you know God by His "new name"? Do you so know Him as to wish
no longer to hide from Him, but to hide in Him, as the only home
the universe can furnish in which you can be safe and happy? Have
you learned to say, "Our Father which art in heaven"? If we have,
indeed, received this "white stone," let us continually be reading
the "new name" engraven on it. Here I am assured that the Holy Ghost
is my teacher, my guide, my comforter; that the eternal Word, the
only begotten Son, is my Savior, my Friend, my Brother; that the
infinite Jehovah is my Father, and that "like as a father pitieth
his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him."
We are told that no man knoweth this new name, "saving he that
receiveth it." He knows it for himself, but no one else can read it
for him. Thus it resembles the "hidden manna." The frivolous may
deride, fools may mock, the unbeliever may deny, the sceptic may
bring forth his objections in all the pride of a false philosophy,
but the Christian, even if unable to reply to the caviller, or to
make intelligible to any other mind his own strong assurance, has an
evidence within him which nothing can shake, for God has written on
his heart "His new best name of Love."
Fellow pilgrims to the heavenly Canaan, how precious is this token!
We are travelers through the desert; for tho the enjoyments of
earth are many, yet this life, compared with what is to come, is a
wilderness. We are away from home; we are exposed to privations,
tempests, foes; we constantly need a refuge. But we are never far
from the house of a friend. Everywhere, in every city and in every
village, on the desert and on the ocean, in the solitude of secrecy,
and in the solitude of a crowd, in the bustle of business, and in
the sick chamber, a Friend is at hand, who will always recognize the
white stone He gave us, a token of His love. We have only to present
it to claim the fulfilment of His promise.
How wide will the door be thrown open for our reception! What divine
entertainment we shall receive! what safety from peril! what succor
in difficulty! what comfort in trouble! what white raiment! what
heavenly food! O that we valued the _tessera_ more, that we sought
more frequent interviews with our heavenly Friend, that we more
habitually resorted as invited guests to Jesus, and dwelt in Him as
the home of our souls! We shall never find the door closed against
us; we shall never be received reluctantly; He will never allow us
to think that we are intruders. Jesus is never ashamed of His poor
relations, nor treats them coldly because they need His help. The
greater our distress, the more shall we prove His liberality and
tender sympathy.
And as regards this stone, as well as the hidden manna, we can look
beyond the present life. A day is coming when we shall be compelled
to leave the homes of earth, however endeared. We must embrace
for the last time the friends united to us as our own souls. Tho
we have traveled along the road many a year together, we must now
separate, and go alone. They may accompany us to the river side, but
we must cross it by ourselves. What cheering voice will greet us
then? What kind roof will receive us then? What loving friend will
welcome us then?
But we shall not have left our best treasure behind us! No! we shall
carry the white stone with us; and with this we shall look for no
inferior abode, but with unhesitating step shall advance at once
right up to the palace of the Great King. We present the _tessera_;
the "new name" is legible upon it; the angelic guards recognize the
symbol; the everlasting gates lift up their heads; and the voice of
Jesus Himself invites us to enter, saying, "Come, ye blessed of my
Father, inherit the kingdom!"
Such is the welcome that every soul shall experience to whom the
promise is fulfilled: "I will give him a white stone, and in the
stone a new name written, which no man knoweth, saving he that
receiveth it."
II. The condition annexed to the promise, "To him that overcometh!"