SERMON XVIII. SHAME

Romans x. 11. For the Scripture saith, Whosoever believeth on Him

shall not be ashamed.

My friends, what this text really means is one thing; what we may

choose to think it means is another thing--perhaps a very different

thing. I will try and show you what I believe it really means.

'Whosoever believeth on Him shall not be ashamed.' It seems as if

St. Paul thought, that not being ashamed had to do with salvation,

and being saved; ay, that they were almost the same thing: for he

says just before, if thou doest so and so, thou shalt be saved; for

with the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and with the mouth

confession is made unto salvation; _for_ the Scripture saith,

'Whosoever believeth on Him shall not be ashamed;' as if being

ashamed was the very thing from which we were to be saved. And

certainly that wise and great man, whoever he was (some say he was

St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, in Italy), who wrote the Te Deum,

thought the same; for how does he end the Te Deum? 'O Lord, in Thee

have I trusted: let me never be confounded,' that is, brought to

shame. You see, after he has spoken of God, and the everlasting

glory of God, of Cherubim and Seraphim, that is, all the powers of

the earth and the powers of the heavens, of Apostles, Prophets,

Martyrs, the Holy Church, all praising God, and crying 'Holy, holy,

holy. Lord God of Hosts, Heaven and Earth are full of the majesty

of Thy glory;' after he has spoken of the mystery of the Trinity,

Father and Son and Holy Ghost, of Christ's redemption and

incarnation, and ascension and glory; of His judging the world; of

His government, and His lifting up His people for ever; after he has

prayed God to keep them this day without sin, and to let His mercy

lighten upon them; after all this, at the end of this glorious hymn,

all that he has to say is, 'O Lord, in Thee have I trusted: let me

never be confounded.'--All he has to say: but that is a great deal:

he does not say that merely because he wants to say something more,

and has nothing else to say. Not so. In all great hymns and

writings like this, the end is almost sure to be the strongest part

of all, to have the very pith and marrow of the whole matter in it,

as I believe this end of the Te Deum has; and I believe that whoever

wrote it thought that being confounded, and brought to shame, was

just the most horrible and wretched thing which could happen to him,

or any man, and the thing above all others from which he was most

bound to pray God to save him and every human being.

Now, how is this? First, let us look at what coming to shame is;

and next, how believing in Christ will save us from it.

Now, every man and woman of us here, who has one spark of good

feeling in them, will surely agree, that coming to shame is

dreadful; and that there is no pain or torment on earth like the

pain of being ashamed of oneself: nothing so painful. And I will

prove it to you. You call a man a brave man, if he is afraid of

nothing: but there is one thing the very bravest man is afraid of,

and that is of disgrace, of coming to shame. Ay, my friends, so

terrible is the torment of shame, that you may see brave men,--men

who would face death in battle, men who would have a limb cut off

without a groan, you may see such, in spite of all their courage,

gnash their teeth, and writhe in agony, and weep bitter tears,

simply because they are ashamed of themselves, so terrible and

unbearable is the torment of shame. It may drive a man to do good

or evil: it may drive him to do good; as when, rather than come to

shame, and be disgraced, soldiers will face death in battle

willingly and cheerfully, and do deeds of daring beyond belief: or

it may drive him to do evil; rather than come to shame, men have

killed themselves, choosing, unhappy and mistaken men, rather to

face the torment of hell than the torment of disgrace. They are

mistaken enough, God knows. But shame, like all powerful things,

will work for harm as well as for good; and just as a wholesome and

godly shame may be the beginning of a man's repentance and

righteousness, so may an unwholesome and ungodly shame be the cause

of his despair and ruin. But judge for yourselves; think over your

past lives. Were you ever once--were it but for five minutes--

utterly ashamed of yourself? If you were, did you ever feel any

torment like _that_? In all other misery and torment one feels

hope; one says, 'Still life is worth having, and when the sorrow

wears away I shall be cheerful and enjoy myself again:' but when one

has come to shame, when one is not only disgraced in the eyes of

other people, but disgraced (which is a thousand times worse) in

one's own eyes; when one feels that people have real reason to

despise one, then one feels for the time as if life was _not_ worth

having; as if one did not care whether one died or not, or what

became of one: and yet as if dying would do one no good, change of

place would do one no good, time's running on would do one no good;

as if what was done could not be undone, and the shame would be with

one still, and torment one still, wherever one was, and if one was

to live a million years: ay, that it would be everlasting: one

feels, in a word, that real shame and deserved disgrace is verily

and indeed an everlasting torment. And it is this, and the feeling

of this, which explains why poor wretches will kill themselves, as

Judas Iscariot did, and rush into hell itself, under the horror and

pain of shame and disgrace. They feel a hell within them so hot,

that they actually fancy that they can be no worse off beyond the

grave than they are on this side of it. They are mistaken: but

that is the reason; the misery of disgrace is so intolerable, that

they are willing, like that wretched Judas, to try any mad and

desperate chance to escape it.

So much for shame's being a dreadful and horrible thing. But again,

it is a spiritual thing: it grows and works not in our fleshly

bodies, but in our spirits, our consciences, our immortal souls.

You may see this by thinking of people who are not afraid of shame.

You do not respect them, or think them the better for that. Not at

all. If a man is not afraid of shame; if a man, when he is found

out, and exposed, and comes to shame, does not care for it, but

'brazens out his own shame,' as we say, we do not call him brave; we

call him what he is, a base impudent person, lost to all good

feeling. Why, what harder name can we call any man or woman, than

to say that they are 'shameless,' dead to shame? We know that it is

the very sign of their being dead in sin, the very sign of God's

Spirit having left them; that till they are made to feel shame there

is no hope of their mending or repenting, or of any good being put

into them, or coming out of them. So that this feeling of shame is

a spiritual feeling, which has to do with a man's immortal soul,

with his conscience, and the voice of God in his heart.

Now, consider this: that there will surely come to you and me, and

every living soul, a day of judgment; a day in which we shall be

judged. Think honestly of those two words. First, a day, not a

mere time, much less a night. Now, in a day there is light, by

which men can see, and a sun in heaven which shows all things

clearly. In that day, that brightest and clearest of all days, we

shall see what we really have been, and what we really have done;

and for aught we know, every one round us, every one with whom we

have ever had to do, will see it also. The secrets of all our

hearts will be disclosed; and we shall stand before heaven and earth

simply for what we are, and neither more nor less. That is a

fearful thought! Shall we come to shame in that day? And it will

be a day of judgment: in it we shall be judged. I do not mean

merely condemned, for we may be acquitted: or punished, for we may

be rewarded; those things come after being judged. First, let us

think of what being judged is. A judge's business is to decide on

what we have done, or whether we have broken the law or not; to hear

witnesses for us and against us, to sum up the evidence, and set

forth the evidence for us and the evidence against us. And our

judge will be the Son of Man, the Lord Jesus Christ, who is sharper

than a two-edged sword, piercing through the very joints and marrow,

and discerning the secret intents of the heart; neither is anything

hid from Him, for all things are naked and open in the sight of Him

with whom we have to do. With whom we _have_ to do, mind: not

merely with whom we _shall_ have to do; for He sees all _now_, He

knows all now. Ever since we were born, there has not been a

thought in our heart but He has known it altogether. And He is

utterly just--no respecter of persons; like His own wisdom, without

partiality and without hypocrisy. O Lord! who shall stand in that

day? O Lord! if thou be extreme to mark what is done amiss, who

shall abide it? O Lord! in thee have I trusted: let me never be

confounded!

For this is being confounded; this is shame itself. This is the

intolerable, horrible, hellish shame and torment, wherein is weeping

and gnashing of teeth; this is the everlasting shame and contempt to

which, as Daniel prophesied, too many should awake in that day--to

be found guilty in that day before God and Christ, before our

neighbours and our relations, and worst of all, before ourselves.

Worst of all, I say, before ourselves. It would be dreadful enough

to have all the bad things we ever did or thought told openly

against us to all our neighbours and friends, and to see them turn

away from us;--dreadful to find out at last (what we forget all day

long) that God knows them already; but more dreadful to know them

all ourselves, and see our sins in all their shamefulness, in the

light of God, as God Himself sees them;--more dreadful still to see

the loving God and the loving Christ turn away from us;--but most

dreadful of all to turn away from ourselves; to be utterly

discontented with ourselves; ashamed of ourselves; to see that all

our misery is our own fault, that we have been our own enemies; to

despise ourselves, and hate ourselves for ever; to try for ever to

get rid of ourselves, and escape from ourselves as from some ugly

and foul place in which we were ashamed to be seen for a moment:

and yet not to be able to get rid of ourselves. Yes, that will be

the true misery of a lost soul, to be ashamed of itself, and hate

itself. Who shall deliver a man from the body of that death?

I thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord. I thank God, that at

least now, here, in this life, we can be delivered. There is but

one hope for us all; one way for us all, not to come to utter shame.

And this is in the Lord Jesus Christ, who has said, 'Though your

sins be red as scarlet they shall be white as wool; and their sins

and their iniquities will I remember no more.' One hope, to cast

ourselves utterly on His boundless love and mercy, and cry to Him,

'Blot these sins of mine out of Thy book, by Thy most precious

blood, which is a full atonement for the sins of the whole world;

and blot them out of my heart by Thy Holy Spirit, that I may hate

them and renounce them, and flee from them, and give them up, and be

Thy servant, and do Thy work, and have Thy righteousness, and do

righteous things like Thee.' And then, my friends, how or why we

cannot understand; but it is God's own promise, who cannot lie, that

He will really and actually forgive these sins of ours, and blot

them out as if we had never done them, and give us clean hearts and

right spirits, to live new lives, right lives, lives like His own

life; so that our past sinful lives shall be behind us like a dream,

and we shall find them forgotten and forgiven in the day of

judgment;--wonderful mercy! but listen to it--it is God's own

promise--'If the wicked man turneth away from all his sins that he

hath committed, and keep all my statutes, and do that which is

lawful and right, he shall surely live, he shall not die. All his

transgressions that he hath committed, they shall not be mentioned

to him: in his righteousness that he hath done he shall live.'

They shall not be mentioned to him. My friends, if, as I have been

showing, the great misery, the great horror of all, is having our

sins mentioned to us in That Day, and being made utterly ashamed by

them, what greater mercy can we want than this--not to have them

mentioned to us, and not to come to shame; not to be plagued for

ever with the hideous ghosts of our past bad thoughts, bad words,

bad deeds, coming all day long to stare us in the face, and cry to

us while the accusing Devil holds them up to us, as if in a looking-

glass--'Look at your own picture. This is what you are. This fool,

this idler, this mean, covetous, hard-hearted man, who cared only

for himself;--this stupid man, who never cared to know his duty or

do his duty;--this proud, passionate, revengeful man, who returned

evil for evil, took his brothers by the throat, and exacted from

them the uttermost farthing;--this ridiculous, foolish, useless,

disagreeable, unlovely, unlovable person, who went through the world

neither knowing what he ought to do, nor whither he was going, but

was utterly blind and in a dream; this person is you yourself. Look

at your own likeness, and be confounded, and utterly ashamed for

ever!' What greater misery than that? What greater blessing than

to escape that? What greater blessing than to be able to answer the

accusing Devil, 'Not so, liar! This is not my likeness. This ugly,

ridiculous, hateful person is not I. I was such a one once, but I

am not now. I am another man now; and God knows that I am, though

you may try to shame me by telling me that I am the same man. I was

wrong, but I am right now; I was as a sheep going astray, but now I

am returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of my soul, to whom I

belonged all the while; and now I am right, in the right road; for

with the heart I have believed God unto righteousness, and He has

given me a clean heart, and a right spirit, and has purged me, and

will purge me, till I am clean, and washed me till I am whiter than

snow; I do not deny one of my old sins; I did them, I know that; I

confess them to thee now, oh accusing Devil; but I confessed them to

God, ay, and to man too, long ago, and by confessing them to Him I

was saved from them; for with the mouth confession is made unto

salvation. And what is more; I have not only confessed my own sins,

but I have confessed Christ's righteousness; and I confess it now.

I confess, I say, that Christ is perfectly righteous and good, the

Perfect Pattern of what I ought to be; and because He is perfectly

good, He does not wish to see me remain bad and sinful, that He may

taunt me and torment me with my sins, as thou the accusing Devil

dost: but He wishes to make me and every man good like Himself,

blest like Himself; and He can do it, and will do it, if we will but

give up our hearts to Him; and I have given up my heart to Him. All

I ask of Him is to be made good and kept good, set right and kept

right; and I can trust in Him utterly to do that; for He is faithful

and just to forgive me my sins, and cleanse me from all

unrighteousness. Therefore, accuse me not, Devil! for thou hast no

share in me: I belong to Christ, and not to thee. And set not my

old sins before my face; for God has set them behind His back,

because I have renounced them, and sworn an oath against them, and

Christ has nailed them to His cross, and now they are none of mine

and none of thine, but are cast long ago into the everlasting fire

of God, and burnt up and done with for ever; and I am a new man, and

God's man; and He has justified me, and will justify me, and make me

just and right; and neither thou, nor any man, has a right to impute

to me my past sins, for God does not impute them to me; and neither

thou, nor any man, has a right to condemn me, for God has justified

me. And if it please God to humble me more (for I know I want

humbling every day), and to show me more how much I owe to Him--if

it please Him, I say, to bring to light any of my past sins, I shall

take it patiently as a wholesome chastening of my Heavenly Father's;

and I trust to all God's people, and to angels, and the spirits of

just men made perfect, that they will look on my past sins as God

looks on them, mercifully and lovingly, as things past and dead,

forgiven and blotted out of God's book, by the precious blood of

Christ, and look on me as I am in Christ, not having any

righteousness of my own, but Christ's righteousness, which comes by

the inspiration of His own Holy Spirit.'

Thus, my friends, we may answer the Devil, when he stands up to

accuse us, and confound us in the Day of Judgment. Thus we may

answer him now, when, in melancholy moments, he sets our sins before

our face, and begins taunting us, and crying, 'See what a wretch you

are, what a hypocrite, too. What would all the world think of you,

if they knew as much against you as I do? What would the world

think of you, if they saw into that dirty heart of yours?' For we

can answer him--'Whatever the world would think, I know what God

Himself thinks: He thinks of me as of a son who, after wasting his

substance, and feeding on husks with the swine, has come home to his

Father's house, and cried, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and

before Thee, and am no more worthy to be called Thy son; and I know

that that same good Heavenly Father, instead of shaming me,

reproaching me, shutting His doors against me, has seen me afar off,

and taken me home again without one harsh word, and called to all

the angels in heaven, saying, "It is meet that we rejoice and be

glad, for this My son was dead and is alive again, he was lost and

is found." And while Almighty God, who made heaven and earth, is

saying that of me, it matters little what the lying Devil may say.'

Only, only, if you be wandering from your Father's house, come home;

if you be wrong, entreat to be made right. If you are in your

Father's house, stay there; if you are right, pray and struggle to

keep right; if the old account is blotted out, then, for your soul's

sake, run up no fresh account to stand against you after all in the

Day of Judgment; if you have the hope in you of not coming to shame,

you must purify yourselves, even as God is pure; if you believe

really with your heart, you must believe unto righteousness; that

is, you must trust God to make you righteous and good: there is no

use trusting Him to make you anything else, for He will make you

nothing else; being good Himself, He will only make you good: but

as for trusting in Him to leave you bad, to leave you quiet in your

sins, and then to save you after all, that is trusting that God will

do a most unjust, and what is more, a most cruel thing to you; that

is trusting God to do the Devil's work; that is a blasphemous false

trust, which will be utterly confounded in the Day of Judgment, and

will cover you with double shame. The whole question for each of us

is, 'Do we believe unto righteousness?' Is righteousness what we

want? Is to be made good men what we want? If not, no confessing

with the mouth will be unto salvation, for how can a man be saved in

his sins? If an animal is diseased can it be saved from dying

without curing the disease? If a tree be decayed, can it be saved

from dying without curing the decay? If a man be bad and sinful,

can he be saved from eternal death without curing his badness and

sinfulness? How can a man be saved from his sins but by becoming

sinless? As well ask, Can a man be saved from his sins without

being saved from his sins? But if you wish really to be saved from

your sins, and taken out of them, and cured of them, that you may be

made good men, righteous men, useful men, just men, loving men,

Godlike men;--then trust in God for that, and you will find that

your trust will be unto righteousness, for you will become righteous

men; and confess God with your mouth for that, saying, 'I believe in

God my Father; I believe in Jesus Christ His Son, who died, and

rose, and ascended on high for me; I believe in God's Holy Spirit,

which is with me, to make me right;' and your confession will be

unto salvation, for you will be saved from your sins.

Always say to yourself this one thing, 'Good I will become, whatever

it cost me; and in God's goodness I trust to make me good, for I am

sure He wishes to see me good, more than I do myself; and you will

find that because you have confessed, in that best and most honest

of ways, that God is good, and have so given Him real glory, and

real honour, and real praise, He will save you from the sins which

torment you: and that because you have really trusted in Him, you

shall never come, either in this world, or the world to come, to

that worst misery, the being ashamed of yourself.

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