first there were those who had been introduced into the church through
Judaism, and afterwards those who had been converted from different
forms of heathenism. Now it is well known, that it was the tendency of
Judaism highly to venerate the marriage state, and just in the same
proportion to disparage that of celibacy, and to place those who led a
single life under a stigma and disgrace. Those converts therefore,
entered into the Church of Christ carrying with them their old Jewish
prejudices. On the other hand, many who had entered into the Christian
Church had been converted to Christianity from different forms of
heathenism. Among these prevailed a tendency to the belief (which
originated primarily in the oriental schools of philosophy) that the
highest virtue consisted in the denial of all natural inclinations,
and the suppression of all natural desires; and looking upon marriage
on one side only, and that the lowest, they were tempted to consider
it as low, earthly, carnal, and sensual. It was at this time that
Christianity entered into the world, and while it added fresh dignity
and significance to the marriage relationship, it at the same time
shed a splendour and a glory upon the other state. The virginity of
the mother of Our Lord--the solitary life of John the Baptist--the
pure and solitary youth of Christ Himself--had thrown upon celibacy a
meaning and dignity which it did not possess before. No marvel
therefore, that to men so educated, and but half prepared for
Christianity, practices like these should have become exaggerations;
for it rarely happens that any right ideas can be given to the world
without suffering exaggeration. Human nature progresses, the human
mind goes on; but it is rarely in a straight line, almost always
through the medium of re-action, rebounding from extremes which
produce contrary extremes. So it was in the Church of Corinth. There
were two opposite parties holding views diametrically opposed to one
another--one honouring the married and depreciating the unmarried
life--the other attributing peculiar dignity and sanctity to celibacy,
and looking down with contempt upon the married Christian state.
It is scarcely necessary to remind ourselves that this diversity of
sentiment has existed in the Church of Christ in almost all ages. For
example in the early ages, in almost all the writings of the Fathers
we have exaggerated descriptions of the dignity and glory of the state
of celibacy. They speak as if the marriage state was low, carnal, and
worldly; and the other the only one in which it is possible to attain
to the higher spiritual life--the one the natural state, fit for man,
the other the angelic, fit for angels. But ordinarily among men in
general, in every age, the state of single life has been looked down
upon and contemned. And then there comes to the parties who are so
circumstanced a certain sense of shame, and along with this a
disposition towards calumny and slander. Let us endeavour to
understand the wise, inspired decision which the Apostle Paul
pronounced upon this subject. He does not decide, as we might have
been led to suppose he would, from his own peculiarity of disposition,
upon one side only; but raises into relief the advantages and
excellencies of both. He say that neither state has in itself any
_intrinsic_ merit--neither is in itself superior to the other. "I
suppose, then," he says, "that this is good for the present distress.
Art thou bound unto a wife? Seek not to be loosed. Art thou loosed
from a wife? Seek not a wife. But and if thou marry, thou hast not
sinned: and if a virgin marry, she hath not sinned. Nevertheless, such
shall have trouble in the flesh: but I spare you." That is, I will
spare you this trouble, in recommending a single, solitary life. You
will observe that in these words he attributes no intrinsic merit or
dignity to either celibacy or marriage. The comparative advantages of
these two states he decides with reference to two considerations;
first of all with respect to their comparative power in raising the
character of the individual, and afterwards with reference to the
opportunities which each respectively gives for the service of God.
I. With respect to the single life, he tells us that he had his own
proper gift from God; in other words, he was one of those rare
characters who have the power of living without personal sympathy. The
feelings and affections of the Apostle Paul were of a strange and rare
character--tending to expansiveness rather than concentration. Those
sympathies which ordinary men expend upon a few, he extended to many.
The members of the churches which he had founded at Corinth, and
Ephesus, and Colosse, and Philippi, were to him as children; and he
threw upon them all that sympathy and affection which other men throw
upon their own domestic circle. To a man so trained and educated, the
single life gave opportunities of serving God which the marriage state
could not give. St. Paul had risen at once to that philanthropy--that
expansive benevolence, which most other men only attain by slow
degrees, and this was made, by God's blessing, a means of serving his
cause. However we may sneer at the monastic system of the Church of
Rome, it is unquestionable that many great works have been done by the
monks which could not have been performed by men who had entered into
the marriage relationship. Such examples of heroic Christian effort as
are seen in the lives of St. Bernard, of Francis Xavier, and many
others, are scarcely ever to be found except in the single state. The
forlorn hope in battle, as well as in the cause of Christianity, must
consist of men who have no domestic relationships to divide their
devotion, who will leave no wife nor children to mourn over their
loss.
Let this great truth bring its improvement to those who, either of
their own choice, or by the force of circumstances, are destined
hereafter to live a single life on earth; and, instead of yielding to
that feeling so common among mankind--the feeling of envy at another's
happiness--instead of becoming gloomy, and bitter and censorious, let
them remember what the Bible has to tell of the deep significance of
the Virgin Mary's life--let them reflect upon the snares and
difficulties from which they are saved--let them consider how much
more time and money they can give to God--that they are called to the
great work of serving Causes, of entering into public questions, while
others spend their time and talents only upon themselves. The state of
single life, however we may be tempted to think lightly of it, is a
state that has peculiar opportunities of deep blessedness.
2. On the other hand, the Apostle Paul brings forward, into strong
relief, the blessedness and advantages of the marriage state. He tells
us that it is a type of the union between the Redeemer and the Church.
But as this belongs to another part of the subject, we shall not enter
into it now. But we observe, that men in general, must have their
sympathies drawn out step by step, little by little. We do not rise to
philanthropy all at once. We begin with personal, domestic, particular
affections. And not only is it true that rarely can any man have the
whole of his love drawn out except through this domestic state, but,
also, it is to be borne in mind that those who have entered into this
relationship have also their own peculiar advantages. It is true that
in the marriage-life, interrupted as it is by daily cares and small
trifles, those works of Christian usefulness cannot be so continuously
carried on as in the other. But is there not a deep meaning to be
learned from the old expression--that celibacy is an _angelic_ state?
that it is preternatural, and not natural? that the goodness which is
induced by it is not, so to speak, the natural goodness of Humanity,
but such a goodness as God scarcely intended?
Who of us cannot recollect a period of his history when all his time
was devoted to the cause of Christ; when all his money was given to
the service of God; and when we were tempted to look down upon those
who were less ardent than ourselves, as if they were not Christians?
But now the difficulties of life have come upon us; we have become
involved in the trifles and the smallness of social domestic
existence; and these have made us less devoted perhaps, less
preternatural, less angelic--but more human, better fitted to enter
into the daily cares and small difficulties of our ordinary humanity.
And this has been represented to us by two great lives--one human, the
other divine--one, the life of John the Baptist, and the other, of
Jesus Christ. In both these cases is verified the saying, that "Wisdom
is justified of all her children." Those who are wisdom's
children--the truly wise--will recognise an even wisdom in both these
lives; they will see that there are cases in which a solitary life is
to be chosen for the sake of God; while there are other cases in which
a social life becomes our bounden duty. But it should be specially
observed here that _that_ Life which has been given to us as a
specimen of life for all, was a social, a human Life. Christ did not
refuse to mix with the common joys and common sorrows of Humanity. He
was present at the marriage-feast, and by the bier of the widow's son.
This of the two lives was the one which, because it was the most
human, was the most divine; the most rare, the most difficult, the
most natural--therefore, the most Christ-like.
II. Let us notice, in the second place, the principle upon which the
apostle founds this decision. It is given in the text--"This I say,
brethren, the time is short: it remaineth that both they that have
wives be as though they had none," "for the fashion of this world
passeth away." Now observe here, I pray you, the deep wisdom of this
apostolic decision. In point of fact it comes to this: Christianity is
a spirit, not a law; it is a set of principles, not a set of rules; it
is not a saying to us--You shall do this, you shall not do that--you
shall use this particular dress, you shall not use that--you _shall_
lead, you shall _not_ lead a married life--Christianity consists of
principles, but the application of those principles is left to every
man's individual conscience. With respect not only to this particular
case, but to all the questions which had been brought before him, the
apostle applies the same principle; the cases upon which he decided
were many and various, but the large, broad principle of his decision
remains the same in all. You may marry, and you have not sinned; you
may remain unmarried, and you do not sin; if you are invited to a
heathen feast, you may go, or you may abstain from going; you may
remain a slave, or you may become free; in _these things_ Christianity
does not consist. But what it does demand is this: that whether
married or unmarried, whether a slave or free, in sorrow or in joy,
you are to live in a spirit higher and loftier than that of the
world.
The apostle gives us in the text two motives for this Christian
unworldliness. The first motive which he lays down is this--"The time
is short." You will observe how frequently, in the course of his
remarks upon the questions proposed to him, the apostle turns, as it
were entirely away from the subject, as if worn-out and wearied by the
comparatively trivial character of the questions--as if this balancing
of one earthly condition or advantage with another, were but a solemn
trifling compared with eternal things. And so here, he seems to turn
away from the question before him, and speaks of the shortness of
time. "The time is short!"
Time is short in reference to two things. First, it is short in
reference to the person who regards it. That mysterious thing _Time_
is a matter of sensation, and not a reality; a modification merely of
our own consciousness, and not actual existence; depending upon the
flight of ideas--long to one, short to another. The span granted to
the butterfly, the child of a single summer, may be long; that which
is given to the cedar of Lebanon may be short. The shortness of time,
therefore is entirely relative--belonging to us not to God. Time is
short in reference to _existence_, whether you look at it before or
after. Time past seems nothing; time to come always seems long. We say
this chiefly for the sake of the young. To them fifty or sixty years
seem a treasure inexhaustible. But, my young brethren, ask the old
man, trembling on the verge of the grave, what he thinks of Time and
Life. He will tell you that the three-score years and ten, or even
the hundred-and-twenty years of Jacob, are but "few and evil." And,
therefore, if you are tempted to unbelief in respect to this question,
we appeal to experience--experience alone can judge of its truth.
Once more, time is short with reference to its _opportunities_. For
this is the emphatic meaning in the original--literally, "the
opportunity is compressed, or shut in." Brethren, time may be long,
and yet the opportunity may be very short. The sun in autumn may be
bright and clear, but the seed which has not been sown until then will
not vegetate. A man may have vigour and energy in manhood and
maturity, but the work which ought to have been done in childhood and
youth cannot be done in old age. A chance once gone in this world can
never be recovered.
Brother men--have you learned the meaning of yesterday? Do you rightly
estimate the importance of to-day? That there are duties to be done
to-day which cannot be done to-morrow? This it is that throws so
solemn a significance into your work. The time for working is short,
therefore begin to-day; "for the night is coming when no man can
work." Time is short in reference to _eternity_. It was especially
with this reference that the text was written. In those days, and even
by the apostles themselves, the day of the Lord's appearance and
second advent seemed much nearer than it was. They believed that it
would occur during their own lives. And with this belief came the
feeling which comes sometimes to all. "Oh, in comparison with that
vast Hereafter, this little life shrivels into nothing! What is to-day
worth, or its duties or its cares?" All deep minds have thought that.
The thought of Time is solemn and awful to all minds in proportion to
their depth--and in proportion as the mind is superficial, the thought
has appeared little, and has been treated with levity. Brethren, let
but a man possess himself of that thought--the deep thought of the
brevity of time; this thought--that time is short, and that eternity
is long--and he has learned the first great secret of unworldliness.
2. The second motive which the apostle gives us is the changing
character of the external world. "The fashion of this world passeth
away"--literally "the _scenery_ of this world," a dramatic expression,
drawn from the Grecian stage. One of the deepest of modern thinkers
has told us in words often quoted, "All the world's a stage." And a
deeper thinker than he, because inspired, had said long before in the
similar words of the text, "the _scenery_ of this world passeth away."
There are two ways in which this is true. First, it is true with
respect to all the things by which we are surrounded. It is only in
poetry--the poetry of the Psalms for example--that the hills are
called "everlasting." Go to the side of the ocean which bounds our
country, and watch the tide going out, bearing with it the sand which
it has worn from the cliffs; the very boundaries of our land are
changing; they are not the same as they were when these words were
written. Every day new relationships are forming around us; new
circumstances are calling upon us to act--to act manfully, firmly,
decisively, and up to the occasion, remembering that an opportunity
once gone is gone for ever. Indulge not in vain regrets for the past,
in vainer resolves for the future--act, act in the present.
Again, this is true with respect to ourselves. "The fashion of this
world passeth away" in us. The feelings we have now are not those
which we had in childhood. There has passed away a glory from the
earth--the stars, the sun, the moon, the green fields have lost their
beauty and significance--nothing remains as it was, except their
repeated impressions on the mind, the impressions of time, space,
eternity, colour, form; these cannot alter, but all besides has
changed. Our very minds alter. There is no bereavement so painful, no
shock so terrible, but time will remove or alleviate. The keenest
feeling in this world time wears out at last, and our minds become
like old monumental tablets which have lost the inscription once
graven deeply upon them.
In conclusion, we have to examine the nature of this Christian
unworldliness which is taught us in the text. The principle of
unworldliness is stated in the latter portion of the text; in the
former part the apostle makes an application of the principle to four
cases of life. First, to cases of domestic relationship--"it remaineth
that they that have wives be as though they had none." Secondly, to
cases of sorrow--"and they that weep as though they wept not."
Thirdly, to cases of joy--"and they that rejoice as though they
rejoiced not." And, finally to cases of the acquisition of worldly
property, "and they that buy as though they possessed not." Time will
not allow us to go into these applications; we must confine ourselves
to a brief consideration of the principle. The principle of Christian
unworldliness, then is this, to "use this world as not abusing it."
Here Christianity takes its stand, in opposition to two contrary
principles. The spirit of the world says, "Time is short, therefore
use it while you have it; take your fill of pleasure while you may." A
narrow religion says, "Time is short, therefore temporal things should
receive no attention: do not weep, do not rejoice; it is beneath a
Christian." In opposition to the narrow spirit of religion,
Christianity says, "_Use_ this world;"--in opposition to the spirit of
the world Christianity says, "Do not _abuse_ it." A distinct duty
arises from this principle to use the world. While in the world we are
citizens of the world: it is our _duty_ to share its joys, to take our
part in its sorrows, not to shrink from its difficulties, but to mix
ourselves with its infinite opportunities. So that if time be short,
so far from that fact lessening their dignity or importance, it
infinitely increases them; since upon these depend the destinies of
our eternal being. Unworldliness is this--to hold things from God in
the perpetual conviction that they will not last; to have the world,
and not to let the world have us; to be the world's masters, and not
the world's slaves.
XV.
_Preached January 11, 1852._
THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH A FAMILY.
"Our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom the whole family in heaven and
earth is named."--Ephesians iii. 14, 15.
In the verses immediately before the text the Apostle Paul has been
speaking of what he calls a mystery--that is, a revealed secret. And
the secret was this, that the Gentiles would be "fellow-heirs and of
the same body, and partakers of the promise in Christ by the gospel."
It had been kept secret from the former ages and generations; it was a
secret which the Jew had not suspected, had not even dreamt of. It
appeared to him to be his duty to keep as far as possible from the
Gentile. Circumcision, which taught him the duty of separation from
the Gentile spirit, and Gentile practices, seemed to him to teach
hatred towards Gentile _persons_, until at length, in the good
pleasure and providence of God, in the fulness of time, through the
instrumentality of men whose _hearts_ rather than whose intellects
were inspired by God, the truth came out distinct and clear, that God
was the Father of the Gentiles as well as of the Jews, "for the same
Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon Him."
In the progress of the months, my Christian brethren, we have arrived
again at that period of the year in which our Church calls upon us to
commemorate the Epiphany, or manifestation of Jesus Christ to the
Gentiles, and we know not that in the whole range of Scripture we
could find a passage which more distinctly and definitely than this,
brings before us the spirit in which it is incumbent upon us to enter
upon this duty. In considering this passage we shall divide it into
these two branches:--1st, the definition which the Apostle Paul here
gives of the Church of Christ; and, 2ndly, the Name by which this
Church is named.
I. In the first place, let us consider the definition given by the
Apostle Paul of the Christian Church, taken in its entirety. It is
this, "the whole family in heaven and earth." But in order to
understand this fully, it will be necessary for us to break it up into
its different terms.
1. First of all it is taught by this definition that the Church of
Christ is a society founded upon natural affinities--a "family." A
family is built on affinities which are natural, not artificial; it is
not a combination, but a society. In ancient times an association of
interest combined men in one guild or corporation for protecting the
common persons in that corporation from oppression. In modern times
identity of political creed or opinion has bound men together in one
league, in order to establish those political principles which
appeared to them of importance. Similarity of taste has united men
together in what is called an association, or a society, in order by
this means to attain more completely the ends of that science to which
they had devoted themselves. But as these have been raised
artificially, so their end is inevitably, dissolution. Society passes
on, and guilds and corporations die; principles are established, and
leagues become dissolved; tastes change, and then the association or
society breaks up and comes to nothing.
It is upon another principle altogether that that which we call a
family, or true society, is formed. It is not built upon similarity of
taste, nor identity of opinion, but upon affinities of nature. You do
not _choose_ who shall be your brother; you cannot exclude your mother
or your sister; it does not depend upon choice or arbitrary opinion at
all, but is founded upon the eternal nature of things. And precisely
in the same way is the Christian Church formed--upon natural affinity,
and not upon artificial combination. "The family, the whole family in
heaven and earth;" not made up of those who _call_ themselves
brethren, but of those who _are_ brethren; not founded merely upon the
principles of combination, but upon the principles of affinity. That
is not a church, or a family, or a society which is made up by men's
choice, as when in the upper classes of life, men of fashion unite
together, selecting their associates from their own _class_, and form
what is technically called a society; it is a combination if you will,
but a society it is not--a family it is not--a Church of Christ it
cannot be.
And, again, when the Baptists or the Independents, or any other
sectarians, unite themselves with men holding the same faith and
entertaining the same opinions, there may be a _sect_, a
_combination_, a _persuasion_, but a _Church_ there cannot be. And so
again, when the Jew in time past linked himself with the Jew, with
those of the same nation, there you have what in ancient times was
called Judaism, and in modern times is called Hebraicism--a system, a
combination, but not a Church. The Church rises ever out of the
family. First of all in the good providence of God, there is the
family, then the tribe, then the nation; and then the nation merges
itself into Humanity. And the nation which refuses to merge its
nationality in Humanity, to lose itself in the general interests of
mankind, is left behind, and loses almost its religious
nationality--like the Jewish people.
Such is the first principle. A man is born of the same family, and is
not made such by an appointment, or by arbitrary choice.
2. Another thing which is taught by this definition is this, that the
Church of Christ is a whole made up of manifold diversities. We are
told here it is "the _whole_ family," taking into it the great and
good of ages past, now in heaven; and also the struggling, the
humble, and the weak now existing upon earth. Here again, the analogy
holds good between the Church and the family. Never more than in the
family is the true entirety of our nature seen. Observe how all the
diversities of human condition and character manifest themselves in
the family.
First of all, there are the two opposite poles of masculine and
feminine, which contain within them the entire of our Humanity--which
together, not separately, make up the whole of man. Then there are the
diversities in the degrees and kinds of affection. For when we speak
of family affection, we must remember that it is made up of many
diversities. There is nothing more different than the love which the
sister bears towards the brother, compared with that which the brother
bears towards the sister. The affection which a man bears towards his
father is quite distinct from that which he feels towards his mother;
it is something quite different towards his sister; totally diverse
again, towards his brother.