of which St. Matthiases history reminds us, is at the present season
most suitable. Our Saviour says, "Come unto Me," and then He adds,
"Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me." Thus He first calls us to
Him, and next shows us the way. "Come unto Me," He says, "and I will
give you rest," and then adds, "Take My yoke upon you, and ye shall
find rest for your souls." He told the Apostles that they must come to
Him, but did not at once tell them the way; He told them they must bear
a yoke, but did not at once tell them what it was. St. Peter, in
consequence, inquired about it on one occasion, and was bid to wait
awhile, and he should know of it more plainly. Our Lord had said,
"Whither I go, thou canst not follow Me now, but thou shalt follow Me
afterwards." "Ye shall seek Me," He said, "and whither I go ye cannot
come[2]." He spoke of His yoke, the way of His cross, as St. Peter
found when at length, after His resurrection, he was told plainly what
should befall him. "When thou wast young," said our Lord to him, by
the lake of Tiberias, when thou wast a child in the faith, and hadst
thine own way, "thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou
wouldest," as just before St. Peter had girt his fisher's coat unto
him, and cast himself into the sea; "but when thou shalt be old, thou
shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry
thee whither thou wouldest not[3]." And then He added, "Follow Me."
St. Peter, indeed, was called upon literally to take Christ's yoke upon
him, to learn of Him and walk in His ways; but what he underwent in
fulness, all Christ's disciples must share in their measure, in some
way or other. Again, in another place, our Lord speaks more expressly;
"If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his
cross, and follow Me[4]." Here we have the words of the text
emphatically repeated. To come to Christ, is to come after Him; to
take up our cross, is to take upon us His yoke; and though He calls
this an easy yoke, yet it is easy because it is His yoke, and He makes
it easy; still it does not cease to be a yoke, and it is troublesome
and distressing, because it is a yoke.
Let us set it down then, as a first principle in religion, that all of
us must come to Christ, in some sense or other, through things
naturally unpleasant to us; it may be even through bodily suffering,
such as the Apostles endured, or it may be nothing more than the
subduing of our natural infirmities and the sacrifice of our natural
wishes; it may be pain greater or pain less, on a public stage or a
private one; but, till the words "yoke" and "cross" can stand for
something pleasant, the bearing of our yoke and cross is something not
pleasant, and though rest is promised as our reward, yet the way to
rest must lie through discomfort and distress of heart.
This I say must be taken as a first principle in religion; it concerns
us all, it concerns young and old, rich and poor, all of whom are apt
to consider it a valid reason for disregarding and speaking against a
religious life, that it is so strict and distasteful. They shrink from
religion as something gloomy, or frightful, or dull, or intrusive, or
exorbitant. And, alas, sometimes it is attempted to lead them to
religion by making it appear not difficult and severe. Severe truths
are put aside, religion is made to consist in a worldly security, or
again in a heated enthusiastic state of mind. But this is a deceit. I
do not of course mean, far from it, that religion is not full of joy
and peace also; "My yoke," says Christ, "is easy, and My burden is
light:" but grace makes it so; in itself it is severe, and any form of
doctrine which teaches otherwise forgets that Christ calls us to His
yoke, and that that yoke is a cross.
If you call to mind some of the traits of that special religious
character to which we are called, you will readily understand how both
it, and the discipline by which it is formed in us, are not naturally
pleasant to us. That character is described in the text as meekness
and lowliness; for we are told to "learn" of Him who was "meek and
lowly in heart." The same character is presented to us at greater
length in our Saviour's sermon on the Mount, in which seven notes of a
Christian are given to us, in themselves of a painful and humbling
character, but joyful, because they are blessed by Him. He mentions,
first, "the poor in spirit," this is denoted in the text, under the
word "lowly in heart,"--secondly, those "that mourn;" and this surely
is their peculiarity who are bearing on their shoulders the yoke of
Christ;--thirdly, "the meek," and these too are spoken of in the text,
when He bids us to be like Himself who "is meek;"--fourthly, those
which do "hunger and thirst after righteousness;" and what
righteousness, but that which Christ's Cross wrought out, and which
becomes our righteousness when we take on us the yoke of the Cross?
Fifthly, "the merciful," and as the Cross is in itself the work of
infinite mercy, so when we bear it, it makes us merciful. Sixthly,
"the pure in heart," and this is the very benefit which the Cross first
does to us when marked on our forehead when infants, to sever us from
the world, the flesh, and the devil, to circumcise us from the first
Adam, and to make us pure as He is pure. Seventhly, "the
peace-makers," and as He "made peace by the blood of His Cross," so do
we become peace-makers after His pattern. And, lastly, after all
seven, He adds, those "which are persecuted for righteousness' sake,"
which is nothing but the Cross itself, and the truest form of His yoke,
spoken of last of all, after mention has been made of its fruits.
Such is the character of which the text speaks. A man who is poor in
spirit, meek, pure in heart, merciful, peace-making, penitent, and
eager after righteousness, is truly (according to a term in current
use) a mortified man. He is of a character which does not please us by
nature even to see, and much less to imitate. We do not even approve
or love the character itself, till we have some portion of the grace of
God. We do not like the look of mortification till we are used to it,
and associate pleasant thoughts with it. "And when we shall see Him,
there is no beauty, that we should desire Him," says the Prophet. To
whom has some picture of saint or doctor of the Church any charm at
first sight? Who does not prefer the ruddy glow of health and
brightness of the eyes? "He hath no form nor comeliness," as his Lord
and Master before him. And as we do not like the look of saintliness,
neither do we like the life. When Christ first announced His destined
sufferings, Peter took Him and began to rebuke Him, saying, "Be it far
from Thee, Lord, this shall not be unto Thee." Here was the feeling of
one who was as yet a mere child in grace; "When he was a child, he
spake as a child, he understood as a child, he thought as a child,"
before he had "become a man and had put away childish things."
This is St. Paul's language, writing to the Corinthians, and he there
furnishes us with another description, under the name of charity, of
that same heavenly temper of mind in which Christian manhood consists,
and which our Lord had already described in the sermon on the Mount; He
says, "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have
not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." And
then He describes it as suffering long, kind, envying not, vaunting
not, behaving seemly, unselfish, rejoicing in the truth, slow to be
provoked, bearing all things and hoping all. And with this agrees St.
James's account of wisdom, that it is "pure, peaceable, gentle, easy to
be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and
without hypocrisy[5]."
In all these passages, one and the same character is described
acceptable to God, unacceptable to man; unacceptable to man both in
itself, and because it involves a change, and that a painful one, in
one shape or other. Nothing short of suffering, except in rare cases,
makes us what we should be; gentle instead of harsh, meek instead of
violent, conceding instead of arrogant, lowly instead of proud,
pure-hearted instead of sensual, sensitive of sin instead of carnal.
This is the especial object which is set before us, to become holy as
He who has called us is holy, and to discipline and chasten ourselves
in order that we may become so; and we may be quite sure, that unless
we chasten ourselves. God will chasten us. If we judge ourselves,
through His mercy we shall not be judged of Him; if we do not afflict
ourselves in light things. He will afflict us in heavy things; if we
do not set about changing ourselves by gentle measures, He will change
us by severe remedies. "I refrain my soul," says David, "and keep it
low, like as a child that is weaned from his mother." "I keep under my
body, and bring it into subjection," says St. Paul. Of course Satan
will try to turn all our attempts to his own purposes. He will try to
make us think too much of ourselves for what we do; he would fain make
us despise others; he will try to ensnare us in other ways. Of course
he turns all things to evil, as far as he can; all our crosses may
become temptations: illness, affliction, bereavement, pain, loss of
worldly prospects, anxiety, all may be instruments of evil; so likewise
may all methods of self-chastisement, but they ought not to be, and
need not. And their legitimate effect, through the grace of the Holy
Spirit, is to make us like Him who suffered all pain, physical and
moral, sin excepted, in its fulness. We know what His character was;
how grave and subdued His speech, His manner, His acts; what calmness,
self-possession, tenderness, and endurance; how He resisted evil; how
He turned His cheek to the smiter; how He blessed when persecuted; how
He resigned Himself to His God and Father, how He suffered silently,
and opened not His mouth, when accused maliciously.
Alas! so it is; not only does the world not imitate such a temper of
mind as this; but, if the truth must be spoken, it despises it. As
regards, indeed, our Lord's instance itself, the force of education,
habit, custom, fear of each other, and some remaining awe, keep the
world from reflecting upon the notes of character which the Gospels
ascribe to Him, but in His followers, it does discern them, it
understands and it condemns them. We are bidden lend and give, asking
for nothing again; revenge not ourselves; give our cloak when our coat
is taken; offer the left cheek when the right is smitten; suffer
without complaint; account persons better than they are; keep from
bitter words; pray only when others would be impatient to act; deny
ourselves for the sake of others; live contented with what we are;
preserve an ignorance of sin and of the world: what is all this, but a
character of mind which the world scorns and ridicules even more than
it hates? a character which seems to court insult, because it endures
it? Is not this what men of the world would say of such a one? "Such
a man is unfit for life; he has no eye for any thing; he does not know
the difference between good and evil; he is tame and spiritless, he is
simple and dull, and a fit prey for the spoiler or defrauder; he is
cowardly and narrow-minded, unmanly, feeble, superstitious, and a
dreamer," with many other words more contemptuous and more familiar
than would be becoming to use in Church. Yet such is the character of
which Christ gave us the pattern; such was the character of Apostles;
such the character which has ever conquered the world. "In much
patience, in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, in stripes, in
imprisonments, in watchings, in fastings, by pureness, by knowledge, by
long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned, by
the word of truth, by the power of God, by the armour of righteousness
on the right hand and on the left, by honour and dishonour, by evil
report and good report, as deceivers and yet true, as chastened and not
killed, as sorrowful yet alway rejoicing;"--these are the weapons of
our warfare, "which are not carnal, but mighty through God to the
pulling down of strong holds[6]." These are despised by the world, but
they have subdued the world. Nay, though they seem most unmanly, they
in the event have proved most heroic. For the heroical character
springs out of them. He who has thrown himself out of this world,
alone can overcome it; he who has cut himself loose of it, alone cannot
be touched by it; he alone can be courageous, who does not fear it; he
alone firm, who is not moved by it; he alone severe with it, who does
not love it. Despair makes men bold, and so it is that he who has
nothing to hope from the world, has nothing to fear from it. He who
has really tasted of the true Cross, can taste no bitterer pain, no
keener joy.
I have been trying to urge on you, my brethren, that the taking of
Christ's yoke, and learning of Him, is something very distinct and
special, and very unlike any other service and character. It is the
result of a change from a state of nature, a change so great as to be
called a death or even a crucifixion of our natural state. Never allow
yourselves, my brethren, to fancy that the true Christian character can
coalesce with this world's character, or is the world's character
improved--merely a superior kind of worldly character. No, it is a new
character; or, as St. Paul words it, "a new creation." Speaking of the
Cross of Christ, he says, "God forbid that I should glory, save in the
Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me,
and I unto the world. For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision
availeth any thing, nor uncircumcision, but a new creature[7]." It is
a new character, and it is one; it is ever one and the same. It is not
one in Apostles, and another in the Christian of this day; not one in
the high, another in the low; one in rich, another in poor; one in
Englishman, another in foreigner; one in man, another in woman. Where
Christ is put on, St. Paul tells us, there is neither Jew nor Greek,
bond nor free, male nor female, but all are one in Christ Jesus[8].
What Lazarus is, that must Dives become; what Apostles were, that must
each of us be. The high in this world think it suitable in them to
show a certain pride and self-confidence; the wealthy claim deference
on account of their wealth; kings and princes think themselves above
instruction from any; men in the middle ranks consider it enough to be
decent and respectable, and deem sanctity superfluous in them; the poor
think to be saved by their poverty;--but to one and all Christ speaks,
"Come unto Me," "Learn of Me." There is but one Cross and one
character of mind formed by it; and nothing can be further from it than
those tempers and dispositions in which the greater part of men called
Christians live. To have one's own way, to follow one's own tastes, to
please one's self, to have things to one's mind, not to be thwarted, to
indulge in the comforts of life, to do little for God, to think of Him
now and then indeed, but to live to this world; to aim at things of
this world; to judge of things by our own accidental judgment, be it
better or worse; to measure religious men, to decide upon right or
wrong in religion, by our favourite fancy; to take a pride in forming
and maintaining our own opinion; to stand upon our rights; to fear the
hard words and cold looks of men, to be afraid of being too religious,
to dread singularity; to leave our hearts and minds, our thoughts,
words, and actions, to take care of themselves:--this, on one side or
the other, in this measure or that, is the sort of character which the
multitude, even of what are called respectable men, exemplify; and no
wonder, this being the case, that they speak against those who have, or
strive to have, a more serious view of religion, and whose mode of
living condemns them. If there be but one character of heart that can
please God, both of these contrary characters cannot please Him, one or
the other does not; if the easy religion is right, the strict religion
is wrong; if strict religion is right, easy religion is wrong. Let us
not deceive ourselves; there are not two ways of salvation--a broad and
a narrow. The world, which chooses the broad way, in consequence hates
and spurns the narrow way; and in turn our Blessed Lord, who has chosen
for us the narrow way, hates, scorns, spurns, denounces, the broad way.
Surely He does so; He hates the broad way as entirely as the world
hates the narrow way; and if we are persuaded to take part with the
world, we take part against Him. When St. Peter said, "Be it far from
Thee, Lord," being shocked at the notice that his Lord should suffer,
what was His answer? Did He thank him for his zeal? Did He, at least,
let it pass in silence? He answered, "Get thee behind Me, Satan, for
thou art an offence unto Me; for thou savourest not the things that be
of God, but those that be of men[9]." And in like manner to the
corrupt church of Laodicea He says, "Because thou art lukewarm, and
neither cold nor hot, I will cast thee out of My mouth. Because thou
sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing;
and knowest not, that thou art wretched and miserable, and poor, and
blind, and naked; I counsel thee to buy of Me gold tried in the fire,
that thou mayest be rich, and white raiment, that thou mayest be
clothed; and anoint thine eyes with eye-salve, that thou mayest see."
And then He adds: "As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten;" that is,
He puts on them His yoke; "Be zealous therefore and repent[10]."
To conclude. If Almighty God moves any of us, so that we have high
thoughts; if from reading Scripture or holy books we find that we can
embrace views above the world; if it is given us to recognize the glory
of Christ's kingdom, to discern its spiritual nature, to admire the
life of saints, and to desire to imitate it; if we feel and understand
that it is good to bear the yoke in our youth, good to be in trouble,
good to be poor, good to be in low estate, good to be despised; if in
imagination we put ourselves at the feet of those mortified men of old
time, who, after St. Paul's pattern, died daily, and knew no one after
the flesh; if we feel all this, and are conscious we feel it; let us
not boast--why? because of a surety such feelings are a pledge to us
that God will in some way or other give them exercise. He gives them
to us that He may use them. He gives us the opportunity of using them.
Dare not to indulge in high thoughts; be cautious of them, and refrain;
they are the shadows of coming trials; they are not given for nothing;
they are given for an end; that end is coming. My brethren, count the
cost; never does God give faith but He tries-it; never does He implant
the wish to sit on His right hand and on His left, but He fulfils it by
making us wash our brethren's feet. O fearful imaginations, which are
sure to be realized! O dangerous wishes, which are heard and forthwith
answered! Only may God temper things to us, that nothing may be beyond
our strength!
[1] Preached on St. Matthias's day during Lent.
[2] John xiii. 36, 33.
[3] John xxi. 18.
[4] Matt. xvi. 24.
[5] James iii. 17.
[6] 2 Cor. vi. 4-10; x. 4.
[7] Gal. vi. 14, 15.
[8] Gal. iii. 28.
[9] Matt. xvi. 23.
[10] Rev. iii. 16-19.
SERMON IX.
Moses the Type of Christ.
"_The Lord thy God will raise up unto thee a Prophet from the midst of
thee, of thy brethren, like unto me; unto Him ye shall hearken._"--Deut.
xviii. 15.
The history of Moses is valuable to Christians, not only as giving us a
pattern of fidelity towards God, of great firmness, and great meekness,
but also as affording us a type or figure of our Saviour Christ. No
prophet arose in Israel like Moses, till Christ came, when the promise in
the text was fulfilled--"The Lord thy God," says Moses, "shall raise up
unto thee a Prophet like unto me:" that was Christ. Now let us consider
in what respects Moses resembled Christ, we shall find that this inquiry
is very suitable at this time of year[1].
1. First, if we survey the general history of the Israelites, we shall
find that it is a picture of man's history, as the dispensation of the
Gospel displays it to us, and that in it Moses takes the place of Christ.
The Israelites were in the land of strangers, viz. the Egyptians; they
were slaves, hardly tasked, and wretched, and God broke their bonds, led
them out of Egypt, after many perils, to the promised land, Canaan, a
land flowing with milk and honey. How clearly this prefigures to us the
condition of the Christian Church! We are by nature in a strange
country, God was our first Father, and His Presence our dwelling-place:
but we were cast out of paradise for sinning, and are in a dreary land, a
valley of darkness and the shadow of death. We are born in this
spiritual Egypt, the land of strangers. Still we have old recollections
about us, and broken traditions, of our original happiness and dignity as
freemen. Thoughts come across us from time to time which show that we
were born for better things than to be slaves; yet by nature slaves we
are, slaves to the Devil. He is our hard task-master, as Pharaoh
oppressed the Israelites; so much the worse than he, in that his chains,
though we do not see them, become more and more heavy every year. They
cling about us and grow; they multiply themselves, they shoot out and
spread forth, and encircle us, those chains of sin, with many links,
minute but heavy, weighing us down to the earth, till at last we are mere
slaves of the soil, with an evil husbandry, slaves of that fearful
harvest which is eternal death. Satan is a tyrant over us, and it seems
to us useless to rebel. If we attempt it, we are but overpowered by his
huge might, and his oppressive rule, and are made twice the children of
hell that we were before: we may groan and look about, but we cannot fly
from his country. Such is our state by nature.
But Moses conducted the Israelites from the house of bondage to their own
land, from which their fathers had descended into Egypt. He came to them
from God, and, armed with God's power, he smote their cruel enemies, led
them out of Pharaoh's territory, divided the Red Sea, carried them
through it, and at length brought them to the borders of Canaan. And who
is it that has done this for us Christians? Who but the Eternal Son of
God, our Lord and Saviour, whose name in consequence we bear? He has
rescued us from the arm of him who was stronger than we; and therefore I
say in this respect first of all, Christ is a second Moses, and a
greater. Christ has broken the power of the Devil. He leads us forth on
our way, and makes a path through all difficulties, that we may go
forward towards heaven. Most men, who have deliberately turned their
hearts to seek God, must recollect times when the view of the
difficulties which lay before them, and of their own weakness, nearly
made them sink through fear. Then they were like the children of Israel
on the shore of the Red Sea. How boisterous did the waves look! and they
could not see beyond them; they seemed taken by their enemies as in a
net. Pharaoh with his horsemen hurried on to reclaim his runaway slaves;
the Israelites sank down in terror on the sand of the sea-shore; every
moment brought death or captivity nearer to them. Then it was that Moses
said, "Stand still, and see the salvation of God." And in like manner
has Christ spoken to us. When our hearts fainted within us, when we said
to ourselves, "How is it possible that we should attain heaven?" When we
felt how desirable it was to serve God, but felt keenly the power of
temptation; when we acknowledged in our hearts that God was holy and most
adorable, and obedience to His will most lovely and admirable, and yet
recollected instances of our past disobedience, and feared lest all our
renewed resolutions to serve Him would be broken and swept away by the
old Adam as mercilessly as heretofore, and that Satan would regain us,
and yet prayed earnestly to God for His saving help; then He saved us
against our fear, surprising us by the strangeness of our salvation.
This, I say, many a one must recollect in his own case. It happens to
Christians not once, but again and again through life. Troubles are
lightened, trials are surmounted, fears disappear. We are enabled to do
things above our strength by trusting to Christ; we overcome our most
urgent sins, we surrender our most innocent wishes; we conquer ourselves;
we make a way through the powers of the world, the flesh, and the devil;
the waves divide, and our Lord, the great Captain of our salvation, leads
us over. Christ, then, is a second Moses, and greater than he, inasmuch
as Christ leads from hell to heaven, as Moses led the Israelites from
Egypt to Canaan.