SERMON XXVII. THE INVASION OF THE ASSYRIANS

(Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity, Morning.)

2 Kings xix. 15-19. And Hezekiah prayed before the Lord, and said,

O Lord God of Israel, which dwellest between the cherubims, thou art

the Lord, even thou alone, of all the kingdoms of the earth; thou

hast made heaven and earth. Lord, bow down thine ear, and hear:

open, Lord, thine eyes, and see: and hear the words of Sennacherib,

which hath sent him to reproach the living God. Of a truth, Lord,

the kings of Assyria have destroyed the nations and their lands, and

have cast their gods into the fire: for they were no gods, but the

work of men's hands, wood and stone: therefore they have destroyed

them. Now, therefore, O Lord our God, I beseech thee, save thou us

out of his hand, that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that

thou art the Lord God, even thou only.

This noble story, which we read in Church every year, seems to have

had a great hold on the minds of the Jews. They plainly thought it

a very important story. For it is told three times over in the

Bible: first in the Book of Kings, then in the Book of Chronicles,

and again in that of the Prophet Isaiah. Indeed, many chapters of

Isaiah's prophecies speak altogether of this invasion of the

Assyrians and their destruction. But what has this story to do with

us, you may ask? There are no miracles in our day. We can expect

no angels to fight for our armies. We must fight for ourselves.

True, my friends: but the lesson of these old stories, the moral of

them stands good for ever. And I am thankful that this very story

is appointed to be read publicly in church once a year, to put us in

mind of many things, which all men are too apt to forget.

For instance: to learn one lesson out of many which this chapter

may teach us. We are too apt to think that peace and prosperity are

the only signs of God's favour. That if a nation be religious, it

is certain to thrive and be happy. But it is not so. We find from

history that the times in which nations have shewn most nobleness,

most courage, most righteousness, most faith in God, have been times

of trouble, and danger, and terror. When nations have been invaded,

persecuted, trampled under foot by tyrants, then all the good which

was in them has again and again shewed itself. Then to the

astonishment of the world they have become greater than themselves,

and done deeds which win them glory for ever. Then they are truly

purged in the fire of affliction, that whatever dross and trash is

in their hearts may be burnt out, and the pure gold left.

So it was with the Jews in Hezekiah's time. So again in the time of

the Maccabees. So with the old Greeks, when the great Kings of

Persia tried to enslave them. So with the old Romans, when the

Carthaginians set upon them. So it was with us English, three

hundred years ago, when for a time the whole world seemed against

us, because we alone were standing up for the Gospel and the Bible

against the Pope of Rome. Then the king of Spain, who was then as

terrible a conqueror and devourer of nations, as the Assyrians of

old, sent against us the Great Armada. Then was England in greater

danger than she had ever been before, or has been since.

And what came of it? That that dreadful danger brought out more

faith, more courage, than perhaps has ever been among us since.

That when we seemed weakest we were strongest. That while all the

nations of Europe were looking on to see us devoured up by those

Spaniards, our laws and liberties taken from us, the Popish

Inquisition set up in England, and England made a Spanish province,

what they did see was, the people of this little island rising as

one man, to fight for themselves on earth, while the tempests of God

fought for them from heaven; and all that mighty fleet of the King

of Spain routed and scattered, till not one man in a hundred ever

saw their native country again.

And in England, after that terrible trial had passed over us, there

rose up the best and noblest time which she had ever yet beheld.

Yes, my friends, three hundred years ago we went through just such a

fiery trial as the Jews went through in Hezekiah's time; and God

grant that we may never forget that lesson.

But what is true of whole nations, is often true also of each single

person; of you and me.

To almost every man, at least once in his life, comes a time of

trial--what we call a crisis. A time when God purges the man, and

tries him in the fire, and burns up the dross in him, that the pure

sterling gold only may be left.

To some people it comes in the shape of some terrible loss, or

affliction. To others it comes in the shape of some great

temptation. Nay, if we will consider, it comes to us all, perhaps

often, in that shape. A man is brought to a point where he must

choose between right and wrong. God puts him where the two roads

part. One way turns off to the broad road, which leads to

destruction: the other way turns off to the narrow road which leads

to life. The man would be glad to go both ways at once, and do

right and wrong too: but it so happens that he cannot. Then he

would be glad to go neither way, and stay where he is: but he

cannot. He must move on. He must do something. Perhaps he is

asked a question which he does not wish to answer: but he must. It

would be well worth his while to tell a lie. It would be very safe

for him, profitable for him; while it would be very dangerous for

him to tell the truth. He might ruin himself once and for all, by

being an honest man. Now which shall he do? He would be glad to do

both, glad to do neither: but choose he must; speak he must. He

must either lie or tell the truth. Then comes the trial, whether he

believes in God and in Christ, or whether he does not. If he only

believes, as too many do without knowing it, in a dead God, a God

far away, he will lie. If he only believes, as too many do without

knowing it, in a dead Christ, a Christ who bore his sins on the

cross eighteen hundred years ago, but since then has had nothing to

do with him to speak of, as far as he knows--then he will lie. And

that is the God and the Christ which most people believe in: and

therefore when the time of trial comes, they fall away, and do and

say things of which they ought to be ashamed, because their trust is

not in God, but in man.

But if that man believes in the living God, and believes that he

lives, and moves, and has his being in God, he cannot lie. As it is

written, 'he that is born of God, sinneth not, for his seed

remaineth in him, and that wicked one toucheth him not.' He will

say, Whatever happens, I must obey God, and not man. The Lord is on

my side, therefore I will not fear what man can do to me.

And what is the seed which remains in that man, and keeps him from

playing the coward? Christ himself, the seed and Son of God. If he

believes in the living Christ; if he believes that Christ is really

his master, his teacher, who is watching over him, training him,

from his cradle to his grave;--if he believes that Christ is

dwelling in him, that whatever wish to do right he has comes from

Christ, whatever sense of honour and honesty he has comes from

Christ; then it will seem to him a dreadful thing to lie, to play

the hypocrite, or the coward; to sin against his own better

feelings. It will be sinning against Christ himself.

Remember the great Martin Luther, when he stood on one side, a poor

monk standing up for the Bible and the Gospel, and against him were

arrayed the Pope and the Emperor, cardinals, bishops, and almost all

the princes in Europe; and his friends wanted him to hold his

tongue, or to say Yes and No at once; in short, to smooth over the

matter in some way.--What conceit, said many, of one poor monk

standing up against all the world; and what folly, too! He would

certainly be burnt alive. But Luther could not hold his tongue. He

was afraid enough, no doubt. He disliked being burnt as much as

other men. But he felt he must speak God's truth then or never. He

must bear witness for Christ's free gospel, against Pope, Emperor,

all the devils in hell, if need be, or else hereafter for ever hold

his peace. He must play the honest man that day, or be a hypocrite

and a rogue for ever. His friends said to him, 'If you go to the

Council, Duke George will have you burnt.' He answered, 'If it

snowed Duke Georges nine days together, I must go.' They said, 'If

you go into that town, you will never leave it alive.' He said, 'If

there were as many devils in the town as there are tiles on the

houses, I must go.' And he went, Bible in hand, and said, 'Here I

stand; I can do no otherwise. God help me!' He went, and he

conquered.

And so it will be with you, my friends, if you will believe in the

living God, and in the living Christ; then, when temptation comes,

you will be able to stand in the evil day, and having done all, to

stand. And you will feel yourselves better men from that day

forward. You will feel that you have made one great step upward;

you will look back upon that time of temptation and perplexity as

the beginning of a new life; as a sign to you that Christ is with

you, and in you, training you and shaping your character, till he

makes you, at last, somewhat like himself; somewhat of the stature

of a true man; somewhat like what he has bidden you to be, 'perfect

as your Father in heaven is perfect.'

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