There are many things that Paul might have gloried in, if he had thought
as some do in this day. If ever there was one on earth who had something
to boast of in himself, that man was the great apostle of the Gentiles.
Now if he did not dare to glory, who shall?
He never gloried _in his national privileges_. He was a Jew by birth,
and as he tells us himself,—“An Hebrew of the Hebrews.” He might have
said, like many of his brethren, “I have Abraham for my forefather. I am
not a dark unenlightened heathen. I am one of the favoured people of
God. I have been admitted into covenant with God by circumcision. I am
a far better man than the ignorant Gentiles.” But he never said so. He
never gloried in any thing of this kind. Never for one moment!
He never gloried _in his own works_. None ever worked so hard for God as
he did. He was more abundant in labours than any of the apostles. No
living man ever preached so much, travelled so much, and endured so many
hardships for Christ’s cause. None ever converted so many souls, did so
much good to the world, and made himself so useful to mankind. No Father
of the early church, no Reformer, no Puritan, no Missionary, no Minister,
no Layman,—no one man could ever be named, who did so many good works as
the Apostle Paul. But did he ever glory in them, as if they were in the
least meritorious, and could save his soul? Never! never for one moment!
He never gloried _in his knowledge_. He was a man of great gifts
naturally, and after he was converted the Holy Spirit gave him greater
gifts still. He was a mighty preacher, and a mighty speaker, and a
mighty writer. He was as great with his pen as he was with his tongue.
He could reason equally well with Jews and Gentiles. He could argue with
infidels at Corinth, or Pharisees at Jerusalem, or self-righteous people
in Galatia. He knew many deep things. He had been in the third heaven,
and heard unspeakable words. He had received the spirit of prophecy, and
could foretell things yet to come. But did he ever glory in his
knowledge, as if it could justify him before God? Never! never! never
for one moment!
He never gloried _in his graces_. If ever there was one who abounded in
graces, that man was Paul. He was full of love. How tenderly and
affectionately he used to write! He could feel for souls like a mother
or a nurse feeling for her child. He was a bold man. He cared not whom
he opposed when truth was at stake. He cared not what risks he ran when
souls were to be won. He was a self-denying man,—in hunger and thirst
often, in cold and nakedness, in watchings and fastings. He was a humble
man. He thought himself less than the least of all saints, and the chief
of sinners. He was a prayerful man. See how it comes out at the
beginning of all his Epistles. He was a thankful man. His thanksgivings
and his prayers walked side by side. But he never gloried in all this,
never valued himself on it, never rested his soul’s hopes on it. Oh! no!
never for a moment!
He never gloried _in his churchmanship_. If ever there was a good
churchman, that man was Paul. He was himself a chosen apostle. He was a
founder of churches, and an ordainer of ministers. Timothy and Titus,
and many elders, received their first commission from his hands. He was
the beginner of services and sacraments in many a dark place. Many a one
did he baptize. Many a one did he receive to the Lord’s table. Many a
meeting for prayer, and praise, and preaching, did he begin and carry on.
He was the setter up of discipline in many a young church. Whatever
ordinances and rules and ceremonies were observed in them, were first
recommended by him. But did he ever glory in his office and church
standing? Does he ever speak as if his churchmanship would save him,
justify him, put away his sins, and make him acceptable before God? Oh!
no! never! never! never for a moment!
And now, reader, mark what I say. If the apostle Paul never gloried in
any of these things, who in all the world, from one end to the other, who
has any right to glory in them in our day? If Paul said, God forbid that
I should glory in anything whatever except the cross, who shall dare to
say “I have something to glory of,—I am a better man than Paul?”
Who is there among the readers of this tract, that trusts in any goodness
of his own? Who is there that is resting on his own amendments, his own
morality, his own performances of any kind whatever? Who is there that
is leaning the weight of his soul on anything whatever of his own in the
smallest possible degree? Learn, I say, that you are very unlike the
apostle Paul. Learn that your religion is _not apostolical religion_.
Who is there among the readers of this tract that trusts in his
churchmanship for salvation? Who is there that is valuing himself on his
baptism, or his attendance at the Lord’s table,—his church going on
Sundays, or his daily services during the week,—and saying to himself,
What lack I yet? Learn, I say, this day, that you are very unlike Paul.
Your Christianity is _not the Christianity of the New Testament_. Paul
would not glory in anything but the cross. Neither ought you.
Oh! reader, beware of self-righteousness. Open sin kills its thousands
of souls. Self-righteousness kills its tens of thousands. Go and study
humility with the great apostle of the Gentiles. Go and sit with Paul at
the foot of the cross. Give up your secret pride. Cast away your vain
ideas of your own goodness. Be thankful if you have grace, but never
glory in it for a moment. Work for God and Christ with heart and soul
and mind and strength, but never dream for a second of placing confidence
in any work of your own.
Think, you who take comfort in some fancied ideas of your own
goodness,—think, you who wrap up yourselves in the notion, “all must be
right, if I keep to my church,”—think for a moment what a sandy
foundation you are building upon! Think for a moment how miserably
defective your hopes and pleas will look in the hour of death, and in the
day of judgment! Whatever men may say of their own goodness while they
are strong and healthy, they will find but little to say of it, when they
are sick and dying. Whatever merit they may see in their own works here
in this world, they will discover none in them when they stand before the
bar of Christ. The light of that great day of assize will make a
wonderful difference in the appearance of all their doings. It will
strip off the tinsel, shrivel up the complexion, expose the rottenness,
of many a deed that is now called good. Their wheat will prove nothing
but chaff. Their gold will be found nothing but dross. Millions of
so-called Christian actions, will turn out to have been utterly defective
and graceless. They passed current, and were valued among men. They
will prove light and worthless in the balance of God. They will be found
to have been like the whitened sepulchres of old, fair and beautiful
without, but full of corruption within. Alas! for the man who can look
forward to the day of judgment, and lean his soul in the smallest degree
on anything of his own! {9}
Reader, once more I say, beware of self-righteousness in every possible
shape and form. Some people get as much harm from their fancied virtues
as others do from their sins. Take heed, lest you be one. Rest not,
rest not till your heart beats in tune with St. Paul’s. Rest not till
you can say with him, “God forbid that I should glory in anything but the
cross.”
* * * * *
II. Let me explain, in the second place, _what you are to understand by
the cross of Christ_.
The cross is an expression that is used in more than one meaning in the
Bible. What did St. Paul mean when he said, “I glory in the cross of
Christ,” in the Epistle to the Galatians? This is the point I now wish
to make clear.
The cross sometimes means that wooden cross, on which the Lord Jesus was
nailed and put to death on Mount Calvary. This is what St. Paul had in
his mind’s eye, when he told the Philippians that Christ “became obedient
unto death, even the death of the cross.” (Phil. ii. 8.) This is not the
cross in which St. Paul gloried. He would have shrunk with horror from
the idea of glorying in a mere piece of wood. I have no doubt he would
have denounced the Roman Catholic adoration of the crucifix, as profane,
blasphemous, and idolatrous.
The cross sometimes means the afflictions and trials which believers in
Christ have to go through if they follow Christ faithfully, for their
religion’s sake. This is the sense in which our Lord uses the word when
He says, “He that taketh not his cross and followeth after me, cannot be
my disciple.” (Matt. x. 38.) This also is not the sense in which Paul
uses the word when he writes to the Galatians. He knew that cross well.
He carried it patiently. But he is not speaking of it here.
But the cross also means in some places the doctrine that Christ died for
sinners upon the cross,—the atonement that He made for sinners, by His
suffering for them on the cross,—the complete and perfect sacrifice for
sin which He offered up, when He gave His own body to be crucified. In
short this one word, “the cross,” stands for Christ crucified, the only
Saviour. This is the meaning in which Paul uses the expression, when he
tells the Corinthians, “the preaching of the cross is to them that perish
foolishness.” (1 Cor. i. 18.) This is the meaning in which he wrote to
the Galatians, “God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross.” He
simply meant, “I glory in nothing but Christ crucified, as the salvation
of my soul.” {10}
Reader, Jesus Christ crucified was the joy and delight, the comfort and
the peace, the hope and the confidence, the foundation and the
resting-place, the ark and the refuge, the food and the medicine of
Paul’s soul. He did not think of what he had done himself, and suffered
himself. He did not meditate on his own goodness, and his own
righteousness. He loved to think of what Christ had done, and Christ had
suffered,—of the death of Christ, the righteousness of Christ, the
atonement of Christ, the blood of Christ, the finished work of Christ.
In this he did glory. This was the sun of his soul.
This is the subject he _loved to preach about_. He was a man who went to
and fro on the earth, proclaiming to sinners that the Son of God had shed
His own heart’s blood to save their souls. He walked up and down the
world telling people that Jesus Christ had loved them, and died for their
sins upon the cross. Mark how he says to the Corinthians, “I delivered
unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died
for our sins.” (1 Cor. xv. 3.) “I determined not to know anything among
you save Jesus Christ and him crucified.” (1 Cor. ii. 2.) He, a
blaspheming, persecuting Pharisee, had been washed in Christ’s blood. He
could not hold his peace about it. He was never weary of telling the
story of the cross.
This is the subject he _loved to dwell upon when he wrote_ to believers.
It is wonderful to observe how full his epistles generally are of the
sufferings and death of Christ,—how they run over with “thoughts that
breathe, and words that burn” about Christ’s dying love and power. His
heart seems full of the subject. He enlarges on it constantly. He
returns to it continually. It is the golden thread that runs through all
his doctrinal teaching and practical exhortations. He seems to think
that the most advanced Christian can never hear too much about the cross.
{12}
This is what _he lived upon_ all his life, from the time of his
conversion. He tells the Galatians, “The life that I now live in the
flesh I live by the faith of the son of God, who loved me and gave
himself for me.” (Galat. ii. 20.) What made him so strong to labour?
What made him so willing to work? What made him so unwearied in
endeavours to save some? What made him so persevering and patient? I
will tell you the secret of it all. He was always feeding by faith on
Christ’s body and Christ’s blood. Jesus crucified was the meat and drink
of his soul.
And, reader, you may rest assured that Paul was right. Depend upon it,
the cross of Christ,—the death of Christ on the cross to make atonement
for sinners,—is the centre truth in the whole Bible. This is the truth
we begin with when we open Genesis. The seed of the woman bruising the
serpent’s head is nothing else but a prophecy of Christ crucified. This
is the truth that shines out, though veiled, all through the law of Moses
and the history of the Jews. The daily sacrifice, the passover lamb, the
continual shedding of blood in the tabernacle and temple,—all these were
emblems of Christ crucified. This is the truth that we see honoured in
the vision of heaven before we close the book of Revelation. “In the
midst of the throne and of the four beasts,” we are told, “and in the
midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it had been slain.” (Rev. v. 6.)
Even in the midst of heavenly glory we get a view of Christ crucified.
Take away the cross of Christ, and the Bible is a dark book. It is like
the Egyptian hieroglyphics, without the key that interprets their
meaning,—curious and wonderful, but of no real use.
Reader, mark what I say. You may know a good deal about the Bible. You
may know the outlines of the histories it contains, and the dates of the
events described, just as a man knows the history of England. You may
know the names of the men and women mentioned in it, just as a man knows
Cæsar, Alexander the Great, or Napoleon. You may know the several
precepts of the Bible, and admire them, just as a man admires Plato,
Aristotle, or Seneca. But if you have not yet found out that Christ
crucified is the foundation of the whole volume, you have read your Bible
hitherto to very little profit. Your religion is a heaven without a sun,
an arch without a keystone, a compass without a needle, a clock without
spring or weights, a lamp without oil. It will not comfort you. It will
not deliver your soul from hell.
Reader, mark what I say again. You may know a good deal about Christ, by
a kind of head knowledge. You may know who He was, and where He was
born, and what He did. You may know His miracles, His sayings, His
prophecies, and His ordinances. You may know how He lived, and how He
suffered, and how He died. But unless you know the power of Christ’s
cross by experience,—unless you know and feel within that the blood shed
on that cross has washed away your own particular sins,—unless you are
willing to confess that your salvation depends entirely on the work that
Christ did upon the cross,—unless this be the case, Christ will profit
you nothing. The mere knowing Christ’s name will never save you. You
must know His cross, and his blood, or else you will die in your sins.
{14}
Reader, as long as you live, _beware of a religion in which there is not
much of the cross_. You live in times when the warning is sadly needful.
Beware, I say again, of a religion without the cross.
There are hundreds of places of worship, in this day, in which there is
every thing almost except the cross. There is carved oak, and sculptured
stone. There is stained glass and brilliant painting. There are solemn
services, and a constant round of ordinances. But the real cross of
Christ is not there. Jesus crucified is not proclaimed in the pulpit.
The Lamb of God is not lifted up, and salvation by faith in Him is not
freely proclaimed. And hence all is wrong. Reader, beware of such
places of worship. They are _not apostolical_. They would not have
satisfied St. Paul. {15}
There are thousands of religious books published in our times, in which
there is everything except the cross. They are full of directions about
sacraments, and praises of the church. They abound in exhortations about
holy living, and rules for the attainment of perfection. They have
plenty of fonts and crosses both inside and outside. But the real cross
of Christ is left out. The Saviour and His dying love are either not
mentioned, or mentioned in an unscriptural way. And hence they are worse
than useless. Reader, beware of such books. They are _not apostolical_.
They would never have satisfied St. Paul.
Reader, St. Paul gloried in nothing but the cross. Strive to be like
him. Set Jesus crucified fully before the eyes of your soul. Listen not
to any teaching which would interpose anything between you and Him. Do
not fall into the old Galatian error. Think not that any one in this day
is a better guide than the apostles. Do not be ashamed of the old paths,
in which men walked who were inspired by the Holy Ghost. Let not the
vague talk of men who speak great swelling words about catholicity, and
the church, and the ministry, disturb your peace, and make you loose your
hands from the cross. Churches, ministers, and sacraments, are all
useful in their way, but they are not Christ crucified. Do not give
Christ’s honour to another. “He that glorieth, let him glory in the
Lord.”
* * * * *
III. Let me shew you _why all Christians ought to glory in the cross of
Christ_.
I feel that I must say something on this point, because of the ignorance
that prevails about it. I suspect that many see no peculiar glory and
beauty in the subject of Christ’s cross. On the contrary, they think it
painful, humbling, and degrading. They do not see much profit in the
story of His death and sufferings. They rather turn from it as an
unpleasant thing.
Now I believe that such persons are quite wrong. I cannot hold with
them. I believe it is an excellent thing for us all to be continually
dwelling on the cross of Christ. It is a good thing to be often reminded
how Jesus was betrayed into the hands of wicked men,—how they condemned
Him with most unjust judgment,—how they spit on Him, scourged Him, beat
Him, and crowned Him with thorns,—how they led Him forth as a lamb to the
slaughter, without His murmuring or resisting,—how they drove the nails
through His hands and feet, and set Him up on Calvary between two
thieves,—how they pierced His side with a spear, mocked Him in His
sufferings, and let Him hang there naked and bleeding till He died. Of
all these things, I say, it is good to be reminded. It is not for
nothing that the crucifixion is described four times over in the New
Testament. There are very few things that all the four writers of the
Gospel describe. Generally speaking, if Matthew, Mark, and Luke tell a
thing in our Lord’s history, John does not tell it. But there is one
thing that all the four give us most fully, and that one thing is the
story of the cross. This is a telling fact, and not to be overlooked.
People seem to me to forget that all Christ’s sufferings on the cross
were _fore-ordained_. They did not come on Him by chance or accident.
They were all planned, counselled, and determined from all eternity. The
cross was foreseen in all the provisions of the everlasting Trinity, for
the salvation of sinners. In the purposes of God the cross was set up
from everlasting. Not one throb of pain did Jesus feel, not one precious
drop of blood did Jesus shed, which had not been appointed long ago.
Infinite wisdom planned that redemption should be by the cross. Infinite
wisdom brought Jesus to the cross in due time. He was crucified by the
determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God.
People seem to me to forget that all Christ’s sufferings on the cross
were _necessary for man’s salvation_. He had to bear our sins, if ever
they were to be borne at all. With His stripes alone could we be healed.
This was the one payment of our debt that God would accept. This was the
great sacrifice on which our eternal life depended. If Christ had not
gone to the cross and suffered in our stead, the just for the unjust,
there would not have been a spark of hope for us. There would have been
a mighty gulf between ourselves and God, which no man ever could have
passed. {17}
People seem to me to forget that all Christ’s sufferings were endured
_voluntarily_ and of His own free will. He was under no compulsion. Of
His own choice He laid down His life. Of His own choice He went to the
cross to finish the work He came to do. He might easily have summoned
legions of angels with a word, and scattered Pilate and Herod and all
their armies, like chaff before the wind. But He was a willing sufferer.
His heart was set on the salvation of sinners. He was resolved to open a
fountain for all sin and uncleanness, by shedding His own blood.
Reader, when I think of all this, I see nothing painful or disagreeable
in the subject of Christ’s cross. On the contrary, I see in it wisdom
and power, peace and hope, joy and gladness, comfort and consolation.
The more I keep the cross in my mind’s eye, the more fulness I seem to
discern in it. The longer I dwell on the cross in my thoughts, the more
I am satisfied that there is more to be learned at the foot of the cross
than anywhere else in the world.
Would I know the length and breadth of _God the Father’s love_ towards a
sinful world? Where shall I see it most displayed? Shall I look at His
glorious sun shining down daily on the unthankful and evil? Shall I look
at seed time and harvest returning in regular yearly succession? Oh! no!
I can find a stronger proof of love than anything of this sort. I look
at the cross of Christ. I see in it not the cause of the Father’s love,
but the effect. There I see that God so loved this wicked world, that He
gave His only begotten Son,—gave Him to suffer and die,—that whosoever
believeth in Him should not perish, but have eternal life. I know that
the Father loves us because He did not withhold from us His Son, His only
Son. Ah! reader, I might sometimes fancy that God the Father is too high
and holy to care for such miserable, corrupt creatures as we are. But I
cannot, must not, dare not think it, when I look at the cross of Christ.
{19}
Would I know how exceeding _sinful and abominable sin is_ in the sight of
God? Where shall I see that most fully brought out? Shall I turn to the
history of the flood, and read how sin drowned the world? Shall I go to
the shore of the Dead Sea, and mark what sin brought on Sodom and
Gomorrah? Shall I turn to the wandering Jews, and observe how sin has
scattered them over the face of the earth? No! I can find a clearer
proof still. I look at the cross of Christ. There I see that sin is so
black and damnable, that nothing but the blood of God’s own Son can wash
it away. There I see that sin has so separated me from my holy Maker,
that all the angels in heaven could never have made peace between us.
Nothing could reconcile us short of the death of Christ. Ah! if I
listened to the wretched talk of proud men, I might sometimes fancy sin
was not so very sinful. But I cannot think little of sin, when I look at
the cross of Christ. {20}
Would I know the _fulness and completeness of the salvation_ God has
provided for sinners? Where shall I see it most distinctly? Shall I go
to the general declarations in the Bible about God’s mercy? Shall I rest
in the general truth that God is a God of love? Oh! no! I will look at
the cross of Christ. I find no evidence like that. I find no balm for a
sore conscience, and a troubled heart, like the sight of Jesus dying for
me on the accursed tree. There I see that a full payment has been made
for all my enormous debts. The curse of that law which I have broken has
come down on One who there suffered in my stead. The demands of that law
are all satisfied. Payment has been made for me, even to the uttermost
farthing. It will not be required twice over. Ah! I might sometimes
imagine I was too bad to be forgiven. My own heart sometimes whispers
that I am too wicked to be saved. But I know in my better moments this
is all my foolish unbelief. I read an answer to my doubts in the blood
shed on Calvary. I feel sure that there is a way to heaven for the very
vilest of men, when I look at the cross.
Would I find strong _reasons for being a holy man_? Whither shall I turn
for them? Shall I listen to the ten commandments merely? Shall I study
the examples given me in the Bible of what grace can do? Shall I
meditate on the rewards of heaven, and the punishments of hell? Is there
no stronger motive still? Yes! I will look at the cross of Christ.
There I see the love of Christ constraining me to live not unto myself,
but unto Him. There I see that I am not my own now;—I am bought with a
price. I am bound by the most solemn obligations to glorify Jesus with
body and spirit, which are His. There I see that Jesus gave Himself for
me, not only to redeem me from all iniquity, but also to purify me and
make me one of a peculiar people, zealous of good works. He bore my sins
in His own body on the tree, that I being dead unto sin should live unto
righteousness. Ah! reader, there is nothing so sanctifying as a clear
view of the cross of Christ! It crucifies the world unto us, and us unto
the world. How can we love sin when we remember that because of our sins
Jesus died? Surely none ought to be so holy as the disciples of a
crucified Lord.
Would I _learn how to be contented and cheerful_ under all the cares and
anxieties of life? What school shall I go to? How shall I attain this
state of mind most easily? Shall I look at the sovereignty of God, the
wisdom of God, the providence of God, the love of God? It is well to do
so. But I have a better argument still. I will look at the cross of
Christ. I feel that He who spared not His only begotten Son, but
delivered Him up to die for me, will surely with Him give me all things
that I really need. He that endured that pain for my soul, will surely
not withhold from me anything that is really good. He that has done the
greater things for me, will doubtless do the lesser things also. He that
gave His own blood to procure me a home, will unquestionably supply me
with all really profitable for me by the way. Ah! reader, there is no
school for learning contentment that can be compared with the foot of the
cross.
Would I gather _arguments for hoping that I shall never be cast away_?
Where shall I go to find them? Shall I look at my own graces and gifts?
Shall I take comfort in my own faith, and love, and penitence, and zeal,
and prayer? Shall I turn to my own heart, and say, “this same heart will
never be false and cold?” Oh! no! God forbid! I will look at the cross
of Christ. This is my grand argument. This is my main stay. I cannot
think that He who went through such sufferings to redeem my soul, will
let that soul perish after all, when it has once cast itself on Him. Oh!
no! what Jesus paid for, Jesus will surely keep. He paid dearly for it.
He will not let it easily be lost. He died for me when I was yet a dark
sinner. He will never forsake me after I have believed. Ah! reader,
when Satan tempts you to doubt whether Christ’s people will be kept from
falling, you should tell Satan to look at the cross. {22}
And now, reader, will you marvel that I said all Christians ought to
glory in the cross? Will you not rather wonder that any can hear of the
cross and remain unmoved? I declare I know no greater proof of man’s
depravity, than the fact that thousands of so-called Christians see
nothing in the cross. Well may our hearts be called stony,—well may the
eyes of our mind be called blind,—well may our whole nature be called
diseased—well may we all be called dead, when the cross of Christ is
heard of, and yet neglected. Surely we may take up the words of the
prophet, and say, “Hear O heavens, and be astonished O earth; a wonderful
and a horrible thing is done,”—Christ was crucified for sinners, and yet
many Christians live as if He was never crucified at all!
Reader, the cross is _the grand peculiarity of the Christian religion_.
Other religions have laws and moral precepts,—forms and
ceremonies,—rewards and punishments. But other religions cannot tell us
of a dying Saviour. They cannot show us the cross. This is the crown
and glory of the Gospel. This is that special comfort which belongs to
it alone. Miserable indeed is that religious teaching which calls itself
Christian, and yet contains nothing of the cross. A man who teaches in
this way, might as well profess to explain the solar system, and yet tell
his hearers nothing about the sun.
The cross is _the strength of a minister_. I for one would not be
without it for all the world. I should feel like a soldier without
arms,—like an artist without his pencil,—like a pilot without his
compass,—like a labourer without his tools. Let others, if they will,
preach the law and morality. Let others hold forth the terrors of hell,
and the joys of heaven. Let others drench their congregations with
teachings about the sacraments and the church. Give me the cross of
Christ. This is the only lever which has ever turned the world upside
down hitherto, and made men forsake their sins. And if this will not,
nothing will. A man may begin preaching with a perfect knowledge of
Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. But he will do little or no good among his
hearers unless he knows something of the cross. Never was there a
minister who did much for the conversion of souls who did not dwell much
on Christ crucified. Luther, Rutherford, Whitefield, M’Cheyne were all
most eminently preachers of the cross. This is the preaching that the
Holy Ghost delights to bless. He loves to honour those who honour the
cross.
The cross is _the secret of all missionary success_. Nothing but this
has ever moved the hearts of the heathen. Just according as this has
been lifted up missions have prospered. This is the weapon that has won
victories over hearts of every kind, in every quarter of the globe.
Greenlanders, Africans, South-Sea Islanders, Hindoos, Chinese, all have
alike felt its power. Just as that huge iron tube which crosses the
Menai Straits, is more affected and bent by half an hour’s sunshine than
by all the dead weight that can be placed in it, so in like manner the
hearts of savages have melted before the cross when every other argument
seemed to move them no more than stones. “Brethren,” said a North
American Indian, after his conversion, “I have been a heathen. I know
how heathens think. Once a preacher came and began to explain to us that
there was a God; but we told him to return to the place from whence he
came. Another preacher came and told us not to lie, nor steal, nor
drink; but we did not heed him. At last another came into my hut one day
and said, ‘I am come to you in the name of the Lord of heaven and earth.
He sends to let you know that He will make you happy, and deliver you
from misery. For this end He became a man, gave his life a ransom, and
shed his blood for sinners.’ I could not forget his words. I told them
to the other Indians, and an awakening begun among us. I say therefore,
preach the sufferings and death of Christ, our Saviour, if you wish your
words to gain entrance among the heathen.” Never indeed did the devil
triumph so thoroughly, as when he persuaded the Jesuit missionaries in
China to keep back the story of the cross!
The cross is _the foundation of a church’s prosperity_. No church will
ever be honoured in which Christ crucified is not continually lifted up.
Nothing whatever can make up for the want of the cross. Without it all
things may be done decently and in order. Without it there may be
splendid ceremonies, beautiful music, gorgeous churches, learned
ministers, crowded communion tables, huge collections for the poor. But
without the cross no good will be done. Dark hearts will not be
enlightened. Proud hearts will not be humbled. Mourning hearts will not
be comforted. Fainting hearts will not be cheered. Sermons about the
Catholic Church and an apostolic ministry,—sermons about baptism and the
Lord’s supper,—sermons about unity and schism,—sermons about fasts and
communion,—sermons about fathers and saints,—such sermons will never make
up for the absence of sermons about the cross of Christ. They may amuse
some. They will feed none. A gorgeous banquetting room and splendid
gold plate on the table will never make up to a hungry man for the want
of food. Christ crucified is God’s grand ordinance for doing good to
men. Whenever a church keeps back Christ crucified, or puts anything
whatever in that foremost place which Christ crucified should always
have, from that moment a church ceases to be useful. Without Christ
crucified in her pulpits, a church is little better than a cumberer of
the ground, a dead carcase, a well without water, a barren fig tree, a
sleeping watchman, a silent trumpet, a dumb witness, an ambassador
without terms of peace, a messenger without tidings, a lighthouse without
fire, a stumbling-block to weak believers, a comfort to infidels, a
hot-bed for formalism, a joy to the devil, and an offence to God.
The cross is _the grand centre of union_ among true Christians. Our
outward differences are many without doubt. One man is an Episcopalian,
another is a Presbyterian,—one is an Independent, another a Baptist,—one
is a Calvinist, another an Arminian,—one is a Lutheran, another a
Plymouth brother,—one is a friend to establishments, another a friend to
the voluntary system,—one is a friend to liturgies, another a friend to
extempore prayer. But after all, what shall we hear about most of these
differences in heaven? Nothing most probably: nothing at all. _Does a
man really and sincerely glory in the cross of Christ_? That is the
grand question. If he does, he is my brother;—we are travelling in the
same road. We are journeying towards a home where Christ is all, and
everything outward in religion will be forgotten. But if he does not
glory in the cross of Christ, I cannot feel comfort about him. Union on
outward points only is union only for time.—Union about the cross is
union for eternity. Error on outward points is only a skin-deep disease.
Error about the cross is disease at the heart. Union about outward
points is a mere man-made union. Union about the cross of Christ can
only be produced by the Holy Ghost.
Reader, I know not what you think of all this. I feel as if I had said
nothing compared to what might be said. I feel as if the half of what I
desire to tell you about the cross were left untold. But I do hope that
I have given you something to think about. I do trust that I have shown
you that I have reason for the question with which I began this tract,
“What do you think and feel about the cross of Christ?” Listen to me now
for a few moments, while I say something to apply the whole subject to
your conscience.
_Are you living in any kind of sin_? Are you following the course of
this world, and neglecting your soul? Hear, I beseech you what I say to
you this day: “Behold the cross of Christ.” See there how Jesus loved
you! See there what Jesus suffered to prepare for you a way of
salvation! Yes! careless men and women, for you that blood was shed!
For you those hands and feet were pierced with nails! For you that body
hung in agony on the cross! You are those whom Jesus loved, and for whom
He died! Surely that love ought to melt you. Surely the thought of the
cross should draw you to repentance. Oh! that it might be so this very
day. Oh! that you would come at once to that Saviour who died for you
and is willing to save. Come and cry to Him with the prayer of faith,
and I know that He will listen. Come and lay hold upon the cross, and I
know that He will not cast you out. Come and believe on Him who died on
the cross, and this very day you shall have eternal life. How will you
ever escape if you neglect so great salvation? None surely will be so
deep in hell as those who despise the cross!
_Are you inquiring the way toward heaven_? Are you seeking salvation but
doubtful whether you can find it? Are you desiring to have an interest
in Christ but doubting whether Christ will receive you? To you also I
say this day, “Behold the cross of Christ.” Here is encouragement if you
really want it. Draw near to the Lord Jesus with boldness, for nothing
need keep you back. His arms are open to receive you. His heart is full
of love towards you. He has made a way by which you may approach Him
with confidence. Think of the cross. Draw near, and fear not.
_Are you an unlearned man_? Are you desirous to get to heaven and yet
perplexed and brought to a stand-still by difficulties in the Bible which
you cannot explain? To you also I say this day, “Behold the cross of
Christ.” Read there the Father’s love and the Son’s compassion. Surely
they are written in great plain letters, which none can well mistake.
What though you are now perplexed by the doctrine of election? What
though at present you cannot reconcile your own utter corruption and your
own responsibility? Look, I say, at the cross. Does not that cross tell
you that Jesus is a mighty, loving, ready Saviour? Does it not make one
thing plain, and that is that if not saved it is all your own fault? Oh!
get hold of that truth, and hold it fast.
_Are you a distressed believer_? Is your heart pressed down with
sickness, tired with disappointments, overburdened with cares? To you
also I say this day, “Behold the cross of Christ.” Think whose hand it
is that chastens you. Think whose hand is measuring to you the cup of
bitterness which you are now drinking. It is the hand of Him that was
crucified. It is the same hand that in love to your soul was nailed to
the accursed tree. Surely that thought should comfort and hearten you.
Surely you should say to yourself, “A crucified Saviour will never lay
upon me anything that is not for my good. There is a needs be. It must
be well.”
_Are you a believer that longs to be more holy_? Are you one that finds
his heart too ready to love earthly things? To you also I say, “Behold
the cross of Christ.” Look at the cross. Think of the cross. Meditate
on the cross, and then go and set affections on the world if you can. I
believe that holiness is nowhere learned so well as on Calvary. I
believe you cannot look much at the cross without feeling your will
sanctified, and your tastes made more spiritual. As the sun gazed upon
makes everything else look dark and dim, so does the cross darken the
false splendour of this world. As honey tasted makes all other things
seem to have no taste at all, so does the cross seen by faith take all
the sweetness out of the pleasures of the world. Keep on every day
steadily looking at the cross of Christ, and you will soon say of the
world as the poet does,—
Its pleasures now no longer please,
No more content afford;
Far from my heart be joys like these,
Now I have seen the Lord.
As by the light of opening day
The stars are all conceal’d.
So earthly pleasures fade away
When Jesus is reveal’d.
_Are you a dying believer_? Have you gone to that bed from which
something within tells you you will never come down alive? Are you
drawing near to that solemn hour when soul and body must part for a
season, and you must launch into a world unknown? Oh! look steadily at
the cross of Christ, and you shall be kept in peace. Fix the eyes of
your mind firmly on Jesus crucified, and He shall deliver you from all
your fears. Though you walk through dark places, He will be with you.
He will never leave you, never forsake you. Sit under the shadow of the
cross to the very last, and its fruit shall be sweet to your taste.
“Ah!” said a dying missionary, “there is but one thing needful on a
death-bed, and that is to feel one’s arms round the cross.”
Reader, I lay these thoughts before your mind. What you think now about
the cross of Christ I cannot tell; but I can wish you nothing better than
this, that you may be able to say with the apostle Paul, before you die
or meet the Lord, “God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of
our Lord Jesus Christ.”
* * * * *
* * * * *
Hunt & Son, Printers, Ipswich.
TRACTS AND OTHER WORKS,
BY THE
REV. J. C. RYLE;