PARTING PROMISES AND WARNINGS

'And there was also a strife among them, which of them

should be accounted the greatest. 25. And He said unto

them, The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over

them; and they that exercise authority upon them are

called benefactors. 26. But ye shall not be so: but he

that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger;

and he that is chief, as he that doth serve. 27. For

whether is greater, he that sitteth at meat, or he

that serveth? is not he that sitteth at meat? but I am

among you as He that serveth. 28. Ye are they which

have continued with Me in My temptations. 29. And I

appoint unto you a kingdom, as My Father hath

appointed unto Me; 30. That ye may eat and drink at My

table in My kingdom and sit on thrones judging the

twelve tribes of Israel. 31. And the Lord said, Simon,

Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he

may sift you as wheat: 32. But I have prayed for thee,

that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted,

strengthen thy brethren. 33. And he said unto Him,

Lord, I am ready to go with Thee, both into prison,

and to death. 34. And He said, I tell thee, Peter, the

cock shall not crow this day, before that thou shalt

thrice deny that thou knowest Me. 35. And He said unto

them, When I sent you without purse, and scrip, and

shoes, lacked ye any thing? And they said, Nothing.

36. Then said He unto them, But now, he that hath a

purse, let him take it, and likewise his scrip: and he

that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy

one. 37. For I say unto you, that this that is written

must yet be accomplished in Me, And He was reckoned

among the transgressors: for the things concerning Me

have an end.'--LUKE xxii. 24-37.

It was blameworthy, but only too natural, that, while Christ's heart

was full of His approaching sufferings, the Apostles should be

squabbling about their respective dignity. They thought that the

half-understood predictions pointed to a brief struggle immediately

preceding the establishment of the kingdom, and they wished to have

their rank settled in advance. Possibly, too, they had been

disputing as to whose office was the menial task of presenting the

basin for foot-washing. So little did the first partakers of the

Lord's Supper 'discern the Lord's body,' and so little did His most

loving friends share His sorrows.

I. Our Lord was not so absorbed in His anticipations of the near

Cross as to be unobservant of the wrangling among the Apostles. Even

then His heart was enough at leisure from itself to observe, to

pity, and to help. So He at once turns to deal with the false ideas

of greatness betrayed by the dispute. The world's notion is that the

true use and exercise of superiority is to lord it over others.

Tyrants are flattered by the title of benefactor, which they do not

deserve, but the giving of which shows that, even in the world, some

trace of the true conception lingers. It was sadly true, at that

time, that power was used for selfish ends, and generally meant

oppression. One Egyptian king, who bore the title Benefactor, was

popularly known as Malefactor, and many another old-world monarch

deserved a like name.

Jesus lays down the law for His followers as being the exact

opposite of the world's notion. Dignity and pre-eminence carry

obligations to serve. In His kingdom power is to be used to help

others, not to glorify oneself. In other sayings of Christ's,

service is declared to be the way to _become_ great in the

kingdom, but here the matter is taken up at another point, and

greatness, already attained on whatever grounds, is commanded to be

turned to its proper use. The way to become great is to become

small, and to serve. The right use of greatness is to become a

servant. That has become a familiar commonplace now, but its

recognition as the law for civic and other dignity is all but

entirely owing to Christianity. What conception of such a use of

power has the Sultan of Turkey, or the petty tyrants of heathen

lands? The worst of European rulers have to make pretence to be

guided by this law; and even the Pope calls himself 'the servant of

servants.'

It is a commonplace, but like many another axiom, universal

acceptance and almost as universal neglect are its fate. Ingrained

selfishness fights against it. Men admire it as a beautiful saying,

and how many of us take it as our life's guide? We condemn the

rulers of old who wrung wealth out of their people and neglected

every duty; but what of our own use of the fraction of power we

possess, or our own demeanour to our inferiors in world or church?

Have all the occupants of royal thrones or presidential chairs, all

peers, members of Parliament, senators, and congressmen, used their

position for the public weal? Do we regard ours as a trust to be

administered for others? Do we feel the weight of our crown, or are

we taken up with its jewels, and proud of ourselves for it? Christ's

pathetic words, giving Himself as the example of greatness that

serves, are best understood as referring to His wonderful act of

washing the disciples' feet. Luke does not record it, and probably

did not know it, but how the words are lighted up if we bring them

into connection with it!

II. Verses 28 to 30 naturally flow from the preceding. They lift a

corner of the veil, and show the rewards, when the heavenly form of

the kingdom has come, of the right use of eminence in its earthly

form. How pathetic a glimpse into Christ's heart is given in that

warm utterance of gratitude for the imperfect companionship of the

Twelve! It reveals His loneliness, His yearning for a loving hand to

grasp, His continual conflict with temptations to choose an easier

way than that of the Cross. He has known all the pain of being

alone, and feeling in vain for a sympathetic heart to lean on. He

has had to resist temptation, not only in the desert at the

beginning, or in Gethsemane at the end, but throughout His life. He

treasures in His heart, and richly repays, even a little love dashed

with much selfishness, and faithfulness broken by desertion. We do

not often speak of the tempted Christ, or of the lonely Christ, or

of the grateful Christ, but in these great words we see Him as being

all these.

The rewards promised point onwards to the perfecting of the kingdom

in the future life. We notice the profound thought that the kingdom

which His servants are to inherit is conferred on them, '_as_

My Father hath appointed unto Me,'--that is, that it is a kingdom

won by suffering and service, and wielded by gentleness and for

others. 'If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him.' The

characteristics of the future royalty of Christ's servants are given

in highly figurative language. A state of which we have no

experience can only be revealed under forms drawn from experience;

but these are only far-off approximations, and cannot be pressed.

The sacred Last Supper suggested one metaphor. It was the last on

earth, but its sanctity would be renewed in heaven, and sadness and

separation and the following grief would not mar the perfect,

perpetual, joyful feast. What dim visions of rule and delegated

authority may lie in the other promise of judging the twelve tribes

of Israel, we must wait till we go to that world to understand. But

this is clear, that continuing with Jesus here leads to everlasting

companionship hereafter, in which all desires shall be satisfied,

and we shall share in His authority and be representatives of His

glory.

III. But Jesus abruptly recalls Himself and the Twelve from these

remoter prospects of bliss to the nearer future of trial and

separation. The solemn warning to Peter follows with startling

suddenness. Why should they be fighting about precedence when they

were on the verge of the sorest trial of their constancy? And as for

Peter, who had, no doubt, not been the least loud-voiced in the

strife, he needed most of all to be sobered. Our narrow limits

forbid our doing even partial justice to the scene with him; but we

note the significant use of the old name 'Simon,' reminding the

Apostle of his human weakness, and its repetition, giving emphasis

to the address.

We note, too, the partial withdrawal of the veil which hides the

spirit world from us, in the distinct declaration of the agency of a

personal tempter, whose power is limited, though his malice is

boundless, and who had to obtain God's permission ere he could

tempt. His sieve is made to let the wheat through, and to retain the

chaff. It will be hard to empty this saying of its force. Christ

taught the existence and operation of Satan; but He taught, too,

that He Himself was Satan's victorious antagonist and our prevailing

intercessor. He is so still. He does not seek to avert conflict from

us, but prays that our faith fail not, and Himself, too, fulfils the

prayer by strengthening us.

Faith, then, conquers, and withstands Satan's sifting. If it holds

out, we shall not fall, though all the winds howl round us. We are

not passive between the two antagonists, but have to take our share

in the struggle. Partial failures may be followed by recovery, and

even tend to increase our power to strengthen other tempted ones, by

the experience gained of our own weakness, which deepens humility

and forbearance with others' faults, and by the experience of

Christ's strength, which makes us able to direct them to the source

of all safety.

Peter's passionate avowal of readiness to bear anything, if only he

was with Christ, is the genuine utterance of a warm impulsive heart,

which took too little heed of Christ's solemn warning, and fancied

that the tide of present feeling would always run as strong as now.

Emotion fluctuates. Steadfast devotion is chary of mortgaging the

future by promises. He who knows himself is slow to say, 'I will,'

for he knows that 'Oh that I may!' is fitter for his weakness. Very

likely, if Peter had been offered fetters or the scaffold then and

there, he would have accepted them bravely; but it was a different

thing in the raw, cold morning, after an agitating night, and the

Master away at the far end of the great hall. A flippant maid's

tongue was enough to finish him then.

It is sometimes easier to bear a great load for Christ than a small

one. Some of us could be martyrs at the stake more easily than

confessors among sneering neighbours. Jesus had spared the Apostle

in the former warning of his fall, but He spoke plainly at last,

since the former had been ineffectual; and He addressed him by his

new name of Peter, as if to heighten the sin of denial by recalling

the privileges bestowed.

IV. The last part of the passage deals with the new conditions

consequent on Christ's departure. The Twelve had been exempt from

the care of providing for themselves while He was with them, but now

they are to be launched into the world alone, like fledglings from

the nest. Not that His presence is not with them or with us, but

that His absence throws the task of providing for wants and guarding

against dangers on themselves, as had not been the case during the

blessed years of companionship. Hence the injunctions in verse 36

lay down the permanent law for the Church, while verse 37 assigns as

its reason the speedy fulfilment of the prophecies of Messiah's

sufferings.

Substantially the meaning of the whole is: 'I am on the point of

leaving you, and, when I am gone, you must use common-sense means

for provision and protection. I provided for you while I was here,

without your co-operation. Remember how I did so, and trust Me to

provide in future, through your co-operation.'

The life of faith does not exclude ordinary prudence and the use of

appropriate means. It is more in accord with Christ's mind to have a

purse to keep money in, and a wallet for food-stores, than to go

out, as some good people do, saying, 'The Lord will provide.' Yes,

He will; but it will be by blessing your common-sense and effort. As

to the difficulty felt in the injunction to buy a sword, our Lord

would be contradicting His whole teaching if He was here commanding

the use of arms for the defence of His servants or the promotion of

His kingdom. That He did not mean literal swords is plain from His

answer to the Apostles, who produced the formidable armament of two.

'It is enough.' A couple are plenty to fight the Roman Empire with.

Yes, two too many, as was soon seen. The expression is plainly an

intensely energetic metaphor, taking line with purse and scrip. The

plain meaning of the whole is that we are called on to provide

necessary means of provision and defence, which He will bless. The

only sword permitted to His followers is the sword of the Spirit.

CHRIST'S IDEAL OF A MONARCH

[Footnote: Preached on the occasion of the death of Queen Victoria.]

'And He said unto them, The kings of the Gentiles

exercise lordship over them; and they that exercise

authority upon them are called benefactors. 26. But ye

shall not be so: but he that is greatest among you,

let him be as the younger; and he that is chief, as he

that doth serve.'--LUKE xxii. 25-26.

There have been sovereigns of England whose death was a relief. There

have been others who were mourned with a certain tepid and decorous

regret. But there has never been one on whose bier have been heaped

such fragrant wreaths of universal love and sorrow as have been laid

upon hers whom we have not yet learned to call by another name than

that which has been musical for all these years--the Queen. Why has

her people's love thus compassed her? Surely, chiefly because they

felt and saw that Christ's ideal of rule, as stated in these words

of our text, was her ideal, which she had gone far to realise. Here

is the secret of her hold upon her people. Here is the reason why,

from almost all the world, tributes have come, and as has been well

said, 'They that loved not England loved her.'

Now it would be impossible for me to speak words remote from the

thought that has been filling the nation's mind in these days. I can

add nothing to the many eloquent and just appreciations to which we

have listened in this past week, but I can draw your attention to

the underlying secret which moulded and shaped that life. And it

becomes the pulpit to do so. We Christians ought to infuse a

Christian element into everything. We should 'not sorrow as others,'

nor should we admire as others. We all unite in praising her, but

eulogiums which ignore the ground of the virtues which they extol

are superficial and misleading. I ask you to turn to the revelation

of the secret of the nation's love and sorrow suggested by the words

of my text.

Christ sets forth, in two sharply contrasted pictures, the world's

ideal of a king and His ideal. The upper room was a strange place,

and the eve of Calvary was a still stranger time, for disciples to

squabble about pre-eminence. The Master was absorbed in the thought

of His Cross, the servants were quarrelling about their places in

His Kingdom. Perhaps it was the foot-washing that brought about the

unseemly strife that arose among them, each desiring to hand on the

menial office to another. Jesus Christ did it Himself; and to that,

perhaps, refer the touching words which Luke gives as following the

text; 'I am among you as he that serveth,' with the towel round His

loins, and the basin in His hand.

The world's ideal of a King.

Now, the one picture which He draws for us here, the world's ideal

of a king, is the portrait familiar enough to all who know anything

about that ancient order of society, of tyrants and despots, in

Assyria, Babylonia. Pharaohs and all the little kings round about

Judaea; the vile old Herod and his equally vile brood, were recent

or living examples of what the Master said when He sketched 'the

kings of the Gentiles,' They 'lord it over them.' Arrogant

superiority, imperious masterfulness, irresponsible wills, caprices

ungoverned, an absolute oblivion of duties, no thought of

responsibilities--these were the features of that ancient type of

monarch: and which, in spite of all constitutional hedges and

limitations, there is abundant room for the repetition of, even in

so-called Christian countries.

And then, side by side with that, comes another characteristic:

'They that exercise authority upon them are called "benefactors."'

They demand titles which shall credit them with virtues that they

never try to possess, and live in a region filled with the fumes

from a thousand venal censers of a flattery which intoxicates and

makes giddy. A king in Egypt, very near our Lord's time, had borne

the title 'benefactor,' the very word that is employed here; even as

many a most ungracious sovereign has been called 'Your Most Gracious

Majesty.'

The position tempts to such a type. And although the world has

outgrown it, yet, as I have said, there is ample room for the

recurrence to the old and obsolete form, unless a mightier hindrance

than human nature knows, come in to prevent it. An ancient prophet

lamented over the shepherds of Israel 'that do feed themselves,' and

indignantly asked, 'should not the shepherds feed the sheep?' He

meant precisely the same contrast which is drawn out at length in

these two pictures that we have before us now.

The Christian conception.

'Ye shall not be so.' The Christian conception is in sharp contrast

to, and the Christian realisation of the conception, should be the

absolute opposite of that type to which I have already referred. 'He

that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger'; that

suggests modesty and meekness of demeanour in bearing the loftiest

office. 'And he that is chief as he that doth serve'; that expresses

an activity, not self-regarding and self-centred, but ever used for

others. The simple words of Jesus Christ are the noblest expression

of, and, as I believe, have been the mightiest impulse in producing,

the modern recognition which, thank God! is becoming more and more

pronounced every day amongst us, that power means duty, that

elevation means the obligation to stoop, that true authority

expresses itself in service. We see that conviction growing in all

classes in England. Those who are lifted high are learning to-day,

as they never learned before, the responsibilities and obligations

of their position. And those who are low are beginning to apply the

principle as they never did before, and to test the worthiness of

the lofty, highly-endowed, wealthy, and noble, by their discharge of

the obligations of their position. And although it anticipates what

I have to say subsequently, I cannot but ask here, who shall say how

the Queen's example of authority becoming service has steadied the

Empire, and made a peaceful transition from the old type of

authority to the new, a possibility? Although not directly stated in

my text, there is implied in it another thought, namely, that whilst

power obliges to service, service brings power. He that uses his

influence, his authority, his capacities, his possessions, not for

himself, but for his brothers, will find that by the service he has

garnered in a harvest of authority, and power of command which

nothing else can ever give.

Christ's ideal of a monarch.

And now I may turn, without passing beyond the bounds of the pulpit

on such an occasion as the present, to look at the great illustration

of the Christian ideal which the royal life now closed has given. I

venture to say that, without exaggeration, and without irreverence,

our Queen might have taken for her own the declaration of our Lord

Himself on this occasion, 'I am among you as one that serveth.' She

served her people by the diligent discharge of the duties that were

laid upon her. During a strenuous reign of sixty-three years, she

left no arrears, nothing neglected, nothing postponed, nothing undone.

In sorrow as in joy, when life was young, and the love of husband and

family joys were new, as when husband and children were taken away,

and she was an old woman, lonelier because of her throne, she laboured

as 'ever in the great Taskmaster's eye.' That was serving her nation

by the will of God. She served her people by that swift, sincere

sympathy which claimed a share alike in great national and in small

private sorrows. Was there some shipwreck or some storm, that widowed

humble fisherfolk in their villages? The Queen's sympathy was the

first to reach them. Were the blinds drawn down in some colliery

village because of an explosion? The Queen's message was there to

bring a gleam of light into darkened homes. Did some great name in

literature or science pass away? Who but she was first to recognise

the loss, to speak gracious words of appreciation? Did some poor

shepherd die, in the strath where she made her Highland home? The

widowed Queen was beside the widowed peasant, to share and to solace.

Knowing sorrow herself only too well, she had learned to run to the

help of the wretched. Dowered doubly with a woman's gift of sympathy,

she had not let the altitude of a throne freeze its flow.

She served her people yet more by letting them feel that she took

them into her confidence, spreading before them in the days of her

widowhood the cherished records that her happy pen had written in

the vanished days of her wifehood, opening her heart to us in mute

petition that we might give our hearts to her. She served her people

by the simplicity of her tastes and habits in these days of

senseless luxury, and fierce, sensuous excitement of living. She

served her people by the purity of her life, and so far as she could

by putting a barrier around her Court, across which nothing that was

foul could pass. 'He that worketh iniquity shall not tarry in my

house,' said an ancient king on taking his throne. And our Queen, to

the utmost of her power, said the same; and frowned down--stern for

once in a righteous cause--impurity in high places. Una had her

lion, and this protest of a woman's delicacy against the vices of

modern society is not the least of the services for which we have to

thank her.

Let me remind you that all this patient self-surrender had its root

in Christian faith. She had taken her Lord for her example because

her faith had knit her to Him as her Saviour.

Therefore she, as no other English sovereign, conquered the heart of

the nation, and was best loved by the best men and women. Never was

there a more striking confirmation of the truth that whoever in any

region reigns to serve will serve to reign.

And now, before I close, let me remind you that the principles which

I have been trying to express grip us in our several spheres, quite

as tightly as they do those who may be more largely endowed, or more

loftily placed than ourselves. There is no ideal for a Christian

monarch which is not the ideal also for a Christian peasant. That

which is the duty of the highest is no less the duty of the lowest.

For us all it remains true that what we have we are bound to use,

not for ourselves, but as recognising both our stewardship to God

and the solidarity of humanity; to use for Him, that is to say, for

men. This is the secret of all high, noble, blessed life for

evermore.

And, brethren, whilst I for one heartily rejoice in the growing

consciousness of responsibility which is being diffused through all

ranks of society today, and, bless God, for one impulse to that

recognition which, as I believe, came from the life now peacefully

closed, I shall be no doubt charged by some of you with old-fashioned

narrowness if I reiterate my own earnest conviction that we can rely

on nothing to bring about a thoroughgoing, a widely-diffused, and a

permanent altruism--to use the modern word--except the force that

comes from the motive which Jesus Christ Himself adduced, in this very

conversation, when He said, 'I am among you as he that serveth.' There

is our example, aye! and more than our example, lodged in Him, and

available for us, by our simple faith in Him. In love that seeks to

copy, lies the only power that will cast out self, that 'anarch old,'

from his usurped seat in our hearts, and will throne Jesus Christ

there. It needs a mighty lever to heave a planet from its orbit, and

to set it circling round another sun; and there is nothing that will

deliver any man, in any rank of life, from the dominion of self,

except submission to the dominion of Him who, because He died to

serve, deserves, and has won, the supreme right of authority and

dominion over human life.

To use anything for self is to miss its highest goodness, and to mar

ourselves. To use anything for Christ and our brethren is to find

its sweetest sweetness, and to bless ourselves to the very

uttermost. Self-absorption is self-destruction; self-surrender is

self-acquisition.

If we can truly say, 'I am among you as he that serveth,' if all our

possessions suggest to us obligations and all our powers impose on

us duties: then be we prince or peasant, rich or poor, entrusted

with many talents or with but one, we shall make the best of life

here, and pass to higher authority, which is nobler service

hereafter. Be the servant of all, and all are yours; serve Christ,

and possess yourselves--these are the lessons from that royal life

of service. May we learn them! May the King walk in his mother's

steps and hearken to 'the oracle which his mother taught him!

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