If you ask, why may not a man, or angel, have sufficed to execute this

purpose of man’s salvation; or, if only this divine person was equal

to it, why he did not rather assume a glorified, than our mortal body;

why it was necessary for him to inherit all our infirmities (sin only

excepted,) and yet be conceived, in so extraordinary a manner of the holy

Spirit; nay, and why he should be so conceived, and born of a _virgin_

(a miracle of that peculiar sort as scarce seems capable of proof, and,

in fact, is only proved indirectly by the subsequent life and character

and history of this divine person): If you ask these, and a hundred

other such questions, I answer readily and frankly, _I know not_: But

then consider, that _my_ ignorance, that is, any man’s ignorance, of

the reasons why these things were done, is no argument, not so much as

a presumption against there being reasons, nay, and the best reasons,

for so mysterious a dispensation. Consider, too, that these mysteries no

way contradict any clear principle of your own reason: all that appears

is, that you should not have expected, previously to the revelation of

it, such a design to be formed; and that, now it is revealed, you do not

understand why it was so conducted. But we are just in the same state

of ignorance, with regard to almost every part of the divine conduct.

This world, so unquestionably the work of infinite wisdom and goodness,

is not, in numberless respects, what we should expect it to have

been; of many parts we see not the use and end; in some, there is the

appearance of deformity; in others, of mischief; in all, when attentively

considered, of something above, or beside, our apprehension.

Such then being the case of the natural world, why may not the moral

have its depths and difficulties? You see God in the creation: why

not in redemption? In the former, he condescends, according to our

best philosophy, to manifest himself in the meanest reptile, all whose

instincts he immediately prompts, and whose movements he directs and

governs: why then might he not manifest himself in man, though in another

manner, and by an union with him still more close and intimate?

But I pursue these questions no farther. It is enough that, admitting

the fact, on the faith of the revelation itself, we see a wonderful

goodness and condescension in this whole procedure: that we understand

the importance of having such a saviour and guide and example of

life, as _God manifest in the flesh_; that we are led to conceive,

with astonishment, of the dignity of man, for whose sake the Godhead

assumed our nature, and, at the same time, with consternation, of the

guilt of man, for the atonement of which this assumption, with all its

consequences, became necessary.

_God manifest in the flesh_, is then the _first_ chapter of this

mysterious book: and yet, as mysterious as it is, full of the clearest

and most momentous instruction.

2. The _second_ is, that this wonderfully compounded person was JUSTIFIED

IN THE SPIRIT: that is, _by_, or _through_ the Spirit: another mystery,

which, however, acquaints us with this fact, that a third divine person

ministered in the great work of our redemption.

And his ministry was seen in directing the ancient prophets to

foretell the Redeemer’s coming[64]; in accomplishing his miraculous

conception[65]; in assisting at his baptism[66]; in conducting him

through his temptation[67]; in giving him the power to cast out devils,

which is expressly said to be _by the Spirit of God_[68]; in raising

him from the dead, by which event he was _declared the Son of God with

power, according to the spirit of holiness_[69]; in descending on his

disciples on the day of Pentecost[70]; in bestowing diversities of

miraculous gifts[71] upon them, for the confirmation of his doctrine, and

the propagation of it through the world; and lastly in sanctifying and

illuminating the faithful of all times and places[72].

In all these ways (and if there be any other) Jesus was _justified_,

that is, his commission was authenticated by the testimony of the Holy

Spirit. Here, again, many curious questions may be asked: but what we

clearly learn is, the awful relation we bear to the Holy Ghost, as

co-operating in the scheme of man’s redemption; and the infinite dignity

of that scheme itself, the execution of which required the agency of that

transcendantly divine person.

Hitherto the mystery of godliness has been doubly mysterious, being

wrapped up in the incomprehensible essence of the Deity. It now stoops,

as it were, through this cloud of glory, and gives itself to be somewhat

distinctly apprehended by us.

3. In the _next_ view we have of the Redeemer, as being SEEN OF ANGELS.

We have some grounds from analogy to conclude, that, as there is a scale

of beings below us, there is also one above us: at least, the conclusion

has been pretty generally drawn: and the belief almost universal of such

a scale ascending from us to God, though the uppermost round of it still

be at an infinite distance from his throne. But the direct, indeed the

only solid proof of its existence, is the revealed word, which speaks

of _Angels_ and _Archangels_, nay _myriads_[73] of them, disposed into

different ranks, and rising above each other in a wonderful harmony and

proportion.

Such is the idea which scripture gives us of the invisible world. Now,

to raise our minds to some just apprehension of the great scheme of our

redemption, it represents that world, as being put in motion by that

scheme, as attentive and _earnest to look into it_[74]: and, to exalt our

conceptions of the Redeemer himself, it speaks of that world as being

in subjection to him; of all its inhabitants, the highest in place and

dignity, as serving in his retinue, and paying homage to his person[75].

They accordingly ministered to him in this capacity, when they celebrated

his birth in the fields of Bethlehem[76]; when they took part with him

in his triumphs over the adversary in the desart[77]: when they flew to

strengthen him in his last agonies[78]; when they attended, in their

robes of state to grace his resurrection[79]: and when they ranked

themselves, with all observance, about him, as he went up into heaven[80].

_Of the angels_, then, _he was seen_, on all these, and doubtless other,

occasions. But how was he seen? With love and wonder unspeakable, when

they saw their Lord and Master thus humbling himself for the sake of man;

when they contemplated this bright effulgence of the Deity, _the express

image of his person_[81], veiling all his glories in flesh, and,

—_low-rooft beneath the skies_,

as our great poet sublimely represents his humiliation[82].

Still the _mystery_ continues, though it now submits itself to the

scrutiny of our senses; for it follows,

4. That he was PREACHED TO THE GENTILES.

To enter into the full meaning of this clause, we are to reflect, That,

when the nations of the earth had so prodigiously corrupted themselves

as to lose the memory of the true religion, and to give themselves over

to the most abominable impieties, it pleased God to select one faithful

family from the rest of the degenerate world, and in due time to advance

it into a numerous people; which he vouchsafed to take into a near

relation to himself, and, by a singular policy, to preserve distinct and

separate from the surrounding tribes of Idolaters. Henceforth, the Jews

(for of that people I speak) considered themselves as the sole favourites

of Heaven (as they were, indeed, the sole worshippers of the true God),

and all the heathen as the outcasts of its providence.

This notion, in process of time, became so rooted in them, that when

Jesus now appeared in Judea, they were ready to engross all his favours

to themselves, and thought it strange and incredible, that any part of

them should be conferred on the reprobate heathen. So that he himself

was obliged to proceed with much caution in opening the extent of his

commission, and St. Paul everywhere speaks of the design to save the

Gentiles as the profoundest mystery, as _that which had been kept secret

since the world began_[83].

In the mean time, the mercy of God had much larger views, and sent the

Messiah to be _the saviour of_ ALL _men, especially of them_, out of

every nation, _that believe_[84].

But this mercy, so _mysterious_ to the Jews, could not be much less so to

the Gentiles, who must feel how disproportioned the blessing was to any

deserts of man; and who saw how enormous and how general that corruption

was, which in all likelihood must exclude them from it. Thus it might

reasonably be matter of _silent wonder_[85], to both parties, to hear

_Christ preached to the Gentiles_: only, this _latter_ (of which party

we ourselves are) might say with a peculiar exultation, what the Jews,

even in _glorifying_ the Author of it, were not, without some reluctance,

brought to acknowledge; _Then hath God, also, to the Gentiles granted

repentance unto life._

And if the surprize be deservedly great to hear Christ _preached to the

Gentiles_, it must in all reason grow upon us to find,

5. In the succeeding link of this _mysterious_ chain, that he was

even BELIEVED ON IN THE WORLD; that is, in the world both of Jews and

Gentiles; in the former, to a certain extent; and, in the latter, to one

which, though not universal, is truly astonishing.

Of the Jews it is affirmed, that _multitudes_[86] of them believed: and

what especially redounds to their honour and to our benefit, is, that out

of the Jewish believers were taken those favoured servants of God, that

opened the door of faith to the Gentiles, and became his instruments in

conveying the light of the Gospel to all generations. And, considering

the inveterate prejudices of that people, such a measure of faith, and

such effects of it, could not well have been expected from that quarter.

But then, for the Gentiles, it is astonishing to observe how quick and

how general their conversion to the faith was: so that all men seemed

to _press_[87] into the kingdom of God, and, as it were, to _take it by

violence_[88]. For, within forty years from the death of Christ, the

sound of the Gospel _had gone out into all lands_[89]; and, in less

than three centuries from that event, the empire itself, that is, all

the civilized part of the earth, became Christian: and this, in spite

of every obstruction, which the lusts of men, operating with all their

force, and confederated together, could throw in the way of the new

religion.

_So mightily grew the word of God, and prevailed[90]!_ and it still

prevails: not every where indeed, nor any where to that degree in which,

we trust, it one day will; but to a certain degree over a great part

of the globe, and especially in the more enlightened parts of it: an

evident proof, that reason is congenial with faith; and that nothing but

ignorance, corrupted by vice, can hold out against the cross of Jesus.

Yet this power of the cross must be thought prodigious; since its

pretensions are so high, and its doctrine so pure, that, in a world

overgrown with presumption and vice, it could never have made its way to

so much consideration, if the hand of God had not been with it.

Such is the mystery of Christ _believed on in the world_!

But now the Apostle, who had digressed a little from his main subject,

or rather had anticipated some part of it, returns, from the effects

which Christianity was to have on the world, to the person of its divine

Author; who, as it follows in the

6. _Sixth_, and last clause of this panegyrick, WAS RECEIVED UP INTO

GLORY.

And this circumstance was proper to shut up so stupendous a scene. It

opened with a view of _God manifest in the flesh_, degraded, eclipsed,

obscured by this material vestment; yet emerging out of its dark shade

through the countenance of the _spirit_, and by the ministry of _angels_;

then shining out in the face of the _Gentiles_, and gradually ascending

to his meridian height in the conversion of the whole _world_. Yet

was this prize of glory to be won by a long and painful conflict with

dangers, sufferings, and death; in regard to which last enemy (the most

alarming of all) the Apostle affirms, that _it was not possible for so

divine a person to be holden of it_[91]. It follows, therefore, naturally

and properly (to vindicate the Redeemer’s honour, and to replace him in

that celestial state, from which he had descended), that, in his own

person, he triumphed over hell and the grave, and went up visibly into

heaven; there to sit down at the right hand of the Father, till, his

great mediatorial scheme being accomplished, he himself shall voluntarily

quit the distinction of his name and place, and GOD SHALL BE ALL IN

ALL[92].

On this brief comment on the text, thus far unfolded to you, I have but

one reflexion to make. Ye will not derive from it a clearer insight into

the reasons of all the wonders presented to you: for I undertook only to

lay before you those wonders themselves; not to account to you for them:

but, if ye feel yourselves touched with a view of these things; if ye

find your hearts impressed with an awful sense of your divine religion,

and _nourished_[93] in the faith of it, then will ye be in a way to reap

that fruit from this discourse, which is better than all wisdom and

all knowledge; the fruit of HOLINESS, in this short but unspeakably

momentous stage of your existence; and of HAPPINESS without measure, and

without end, in the kingdom of glory.

SERMON XXXIV.

PREACHED MAY 19, 1776.

ISAIAH l. 11.

_Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that compass yourselves about with

sparks; Walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks which ye have

kindled: This shall ye have of my hand, ye shall lie down in sorrow._

The expression, we see, is figurative. By the _fire kindled_, and the

_sparks, with which men compass themselves about_, may, indeed, be

understood any of those worldly comforts, such as honours, riches,

and pleasures, which the generality of men are studious to procure to

themselves; and in the _light_ of which they love to walk, as being

that, which, in their opinion, contributes most to warm, to chear, and

illustrate human life.

The effect, however, of these comforts, is, that they who possess the

largest share of them, and seek for no other, _lie down in sorrow_:

that is, their lives are without joy, and their end is without hope.

This is the recompense, which they receive from _the hand of God_; as

might easily be shewn, if my purpose, at this time, were to enlarge of

that common-place in morals, _the unsatisfactory nature of all earthly

enjoyments_.

But my design is to engage your thoughts on a different argument, to

which the letter of the text more directly leads us. For _light_, in all

languages, is the emblem of knowledge; which is to the mind, what that

is to the eye: And, the speaker in the text being God himself, we are

naturally led to interpret that light, of _religious knowledge_; that

genial fire, which, more than the Sun itself, is necessary to warm our

spirits, and guide our steps through the cold and dark passage of this

life.

The question is, Whether we are to kindle this _fire_, for ourselves; or,

whether we should not derive it, if we have it in our power so to do,

immediately from heaven: Whether we shall do best to walk in the light of

those few _sparks_, which our Reason is able to strike out for us, on the

subject of religion; or, whether it will not be our interest, and should

not be our choice, to take the benefit of that pure and steady flame,

which Revelation holds out to us.

The text, in a severe, indignant irony, refers us to the former of

these expedients, the better to excite our attention to the latter.

_Walk_, says the Almighty, addressing himself to the idolaters of human

reason, _Walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks which ye have

kindled_. But to what end is this advice given? To one, they little

dreamt of, and would surely avoid—_This ye shall have of my hand_, in

recompense of all your speculations, _Ye shall lie down in sorrow_.

It seems, then, to be the purpose of the text, to inculcate this great

truth, _That Revelation is the only sure and comfortable guide in matters

of religion_. And, to second this purpose, so energetically expressed

by the prophet, I would now shew you, that all the _sparks_ of human

knowledge, on this important subject, are but smoke; and all the _fire_,

which human genius or industry can kindle at the altar of human reason,

ice itself; when compared with the light and heat of divine Revelation.

I SUPPOSE, that we are all convinced of what the voice of nature so

loudly proclaims, that there is a God, a moral governor of the world; and

that we are intimately related to him, and dependant upon him. The sum of

our religious inquiries will then be

I. _What we are to do, in order to obtain the favour of that God: And_

II. _What that favour is, which, when we have done our best, we have

reason to expect from him._

Now, it will be easy to shew, that the issue of our best reason, in

the former of these enquiries, is suspense and doubt; and despair, or

disappointment, in the latter. It will appear, that we cannot assure

ourselves of the means, by which the favour of Heaven is to be obtained;

and that the highest degree of favour, we have a right to claim, is not

that to which we aspire. So fated are we, when trusting to the faint,

delusive light of our own minds, on this great, this only important

subject, _to lie down in sorrow_.

I. To begin with the consideration of _what we are to do, in order to

obtain the favour of God_.

That we are to _worship_ God, will be allowed by all reasonable theists.

But in what way is he to be worshipped? By GIFTS AND OFFERINGS? So a

great part of the world has believed. But, by _what_ gifts and offerings,

_how_, and _when_, and _where_, and _by whom_ presented? Are _all_

indifferent to him, and is no preference due to some above others? or,

may not my offering lose its value, unless made in a certain _manner_?

Is it of no moment with what _rites_ I tender my gifts to God? Are all

_seasons_ equally fit; are all _places_ equally pure; are all _persons_

equally hallowed, for the oblation of them?

Or, again, are gifts and offerings, to the lord of all things,

impertinent and vain? And is my reverence of him to be expressed by acts

of SELF-DENIAL, PENANCE, AND MORTIFICATION? So the pious of all times

have very generally conceived. But by _what_ penance, to what _end_

referred, to what _degree_ carried, and how _long_ continued?

We may think of these questions, and of ourselves, what we will. But

such questions, as these, have been asked by wise men, and, when those

wise men had only to take council of their own reason, have rarely been

answered to their satisfaction.

Or, let us advance a step further, and say that our dependance on God

is to be signified, and his favour obtained, by PRAYER: that gifts

are mercenary, and penance servile; both, a manifest affront to the

all-sufficient and all-merciful Deity; and that the supplications of a

devout mind are the only incense fit for heaven. Be it so: Good and wise

men have at all times thought highly of prayer; and are generally agreed

in recommending it as the most becoming expression of human piety. But

here again, doubts and difficulties meet us. _How_ are we to pray, and

for _what_?

Are all _forms_ of address equally acceptable to him, we adore? The

Gentile world thought not: they were solicitous to petition their Gods in

a certain style, and to gain their ear by some favourite appellation. Let

this, again, pass for a scruple of superstition. Still, is it indifferent

with what sentiments we approach the throne of God, and with what ideas

of his nature and attributes we prostrate ourselves before him? If those

sentiments or ideas be not suited, in some degree, to the majesty of that

great being, is there no danger that we may dishonour, may injure, may

insult him by our addresses? May not our very prayers become affronts,

and our praises, blasphemies?

And is it so easy to think justly on this mysterious subject, as that

reason, every man’s own reason, can instruct him? What if two or three

divine men of the pagan world guessed right? Was their opinion any rule,

was it even any authority, to the bulk of worshippers[94]?

But say, that it was their own fault to misconceive of the Deity: still,

for _what_ shall they pray to him? For every thing, they want or wish?

But thus, they would most commonly pray amiss, for what they should pray

against, for what would corrupt and hurt them.

These difficulties, with regard both to the mode and matter of this duty,

appeared so great to the old masters of wisdom, that some[95] of them

thought it the highest effort of human wit, to form a reasonable prayer;

and others supposed that none but God himself could instruct man how to

do it[96].

There is a way, indeed, to cut these difficulties short; which is, by

maintaining, as some[97] have done, that prayer is no duty at all;

but a vain superfluous observance, justly ranked with the fancies of

superstition: that God is not honoured by any external, no, nor by any

mental, applications to him: that a good conscience[98] is true piety,

and a spotless life, the only religion.

Admit this exalted idea of divine worship; yet, where shall we find,

among the sons of Adam, one such worshipper? Who shall lay claim to that

conscience, or this life? Where is the man, that passes a single day, an

hour almost, without doing that which he ought not to do, or omitting

somewhat he ought to have done? And what multitudes are there, who cover

themselves with infamy, and with crimes?

And what shall the trembling mind do, when it looks up, as at times it

cannot help doing, to that God, who _is of purer eyes, than to behold

iniquity_?

_Repent_, it will be said: that species of piety is all-powerful with

Heaven; it can efface sin, and restore tranquillity.

Here, again, the general sense of mankind runs another way. For, if it

be so clear, that repentance alone has this virtue, how came the idea of

atonement and expiation into the world? and whence the almost universal

practice of _propitiatory sacrifices_?

It is easy, no doubt, to brand this disposition of the human mind, as so

many others, with the opprobrious name of superstition. Let us see, then,

what the merits and claims are, of _Repentance itself_.

A man offends against God, and the sense of his own mind. On reflexion

(what can he do less?) he repents; and (if it please God) is forgiven.

But passion revives; he offends again, and repents again; and so goes

on, through his whole life, in a course of alternate transgression, and

repentance. And is this all the claim he has to be received, at length,

into the favour of God, that he never sinned, though he did it every day,

but he was sorry for it?

Yes, you will say, _If my brother trespass against me seven times in a

day, and seven times in a day turn again and repent_, I am bound by the

law of Christ himself to forgive him[99]. And will God be less placable,

than his creature man is required to be[100]?

This rule of conduct is very fit to be observed by one offender towards

another: but is it past a doubt that it will, that it must take place

between God and man? WE are bound to this repeated, this continual

forgiveness of others, by a sense of our common infirmities. HE has

a government to support; of what extent, over what worlds, and how

connected with this, no man may say: And what would become of government

in this world, if every convict was to be pardoned on repentance?

Nor is it enough to reply, that human governors cannot pronounce on the

sincerity of such repentance. If they could, they would certainly not

regulate their proceedings by that consideration. The law has denounced

a penalty on such a crime: And the public interest requires that the

penalty, for example-sake, be inflicted.

Something, like this, may be true of God’s moral government. No man can

say, it is not. And therefore repentance, as plausible as its plea may

appear, can never free the guilty mind from all apprehension.

But another dreadful circumstance attends this matter. We often satisfy

ourselves, that we repent of a past crime: Yet we commit that crime

again; perhaps the very next hour. Can we call that repentance sincere?

Or, have we a right to conclude that God, who sees through all the

prevarication and duplicity of our hearts, must accept such repentance,

on our profession of it? Let what virtue there will be in repentance,

when seen by the unerring eye of God to be true and unfeigned, how shall

man reckon on the efficacy of it, when he may so easily mistake, and

cannot certainly know the real worth and character of what he calls

repentance?

Here then, whether we consider what the moral attributes of the Deity,

and his righteous government, may demand; or whether we regard the

weakness and inefficacy of our best purposes; there is room enough for

the terrors of religion to invade and possess the mind, in spite of all

that Reason can do to repell, or dislodge them from it.

The works of Richard Hurd, volume 7 (of 8) · 第 3 / 19 段