Paul's question is not one of ignorance, but it is a rhetorical way of
rebuking, and of expressing wonder. He knew, and the Galatians knew,
well enough who it was that had bewitched them. The whole letter is a
polemic worked in fire, and not in frost, as some argumentation is,
against a very well-marked class of teachers--viz. those emissaries of
Judaism who had crept into the Church, and took it as their special
function to dog Paul's steps amongst the heathen communities that he had
gathered together through faith in Christ, and used every means to upset
his work.
I cannot but pause for a moment upon this original reference of my text,
because it is very relevant to the present condition of things amongst
us. These men whom Paul is fighting as if he were in a sawpit with them,
in this letter, what was their teaching? This: they did not deny that
Jesus was the Christ; they did not deny that faith knit a man to Him,
but what they said was that the observance of the external rites of
Judaism was necessary in order to entrance into the Church and to
salvation. They did not in their own estimation detract from Christ, but
they added to Him. And Paul says that to add is to detract, to say that
anything is necessary except faith in Jesus Christ's finished work is to
deny that that finished work, and faith in it, are the means of
salvation; and the whole evangelical system crumbles into nothingness if
once you admit that.
Now, is there anybody to-day who is saying the same things, with
variations consequent upon change of external conditions? Are there no
people within the limits of the Christian Church who are reiterating the
old Jewish notion that external ceremonies--baptism and the Lord's
Supper--are necessary to salvation and to connection with the Christian
Church? And is it not true now, as it was then, that though they do not
avowedly detract, they so represent these external rites as to detract,
from the sole necessity of faith in the perfected work of Jesus Christ?
The centre is shifted from personal union with a personal Saviour by a
personal faith to participation in external ordinances. And I venture to
think that the lava stream which, in this Epistle to the Galatians, Paul
pours on the Judaisers of his day needs but a little deflection to pour
its hot current over, and to consume, the sacramentarian theories of
this day. 'O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you?' Is it not like
some malignant sorcery, that after the Evangelical revival of the last
century and the earlier part of this, there should spring up again this
old, old error, and darken the simplicity of the Gospel teaching, that
Christ's work, apprehended by faith, without anything else, is the
means, and the only means, of salvation?
But I need not spend time upon that original application. Let us rather
come more closely to our own individual lives and their weaknesses. It
is a strange thing, so strange that if one did not know it by one's own
self, one would be scarcely disposed to believe it possible, that a man
who has 'tasted the good word of God and the powers of the world to
come,' and has known Jesus Christ as Saviour and Friend, should decline
from Him, and turn to anything besides. And yet, strange and sad, and
like some enchantment as it is, it is the experience at times and in a
measure, of us all; and, alas! it is the experience, in a very tragical
degree, of many who have walked for a little while behind the Master,
and then have turned away and walked no more with Him. We may well
wonder; but the root of the mischief is in no baleful glitter of a
sorcerer's eye without us, but it is in the weakness of our own wills
and the waywardness of our own hearts, and the wandering of our own
affections. We often court the coming of the evil influence, and are
willing to be fascinated and to turn our backs upon Jesus. Mysterious it
is, for why should men cast away diamonds for paste? Mysterious it is,
for we do not usually drop the substance to get the shadow. Mysterious
it is, for a man does not ordinarily empty his pockets of gold in order
to fill them with gravel. Mysterious it is, for a thirsty man will not
usually turn away from the full, bubbling, living fountain, to see if he
can find any drops still remaining, green with scum, stagnant and
odorous, at the bottom of some broken cistern. But all these follies are
sanity as compared with the folly of which we are guilty, times without
number, when, having known the sweetness of Jesus Christ, we turn away
to the fascinations of the world. Custom, the familiarity that we have
with Him, the attrition of daily cares--like the minute grains of sand
that are cemented on to paper, and make a piece of sandpaper that is
strong enough to file an inscription off iron--the seductions of worldly
delights, the pressure of our daily cares--all these are as a ring of
sorcerers that stand round about us, before whom we are as powerless as
a bird in the presence of a serpent, and they bewitch us and draw us
away.
The sad fact has been verified over and over again on a large scale in
the history of the Church. After every outburst of renewed life and
elevated spirituality there is sure to come a period of reaction when
torpor and formality again assert themselves. What followed the
Reformation in Germany? A century of death. What followed Puritanism in
England? An outburst of lust and godlessness.
So it has always been, and so it is with us individually, as we too
well know. Ah, brethren! the seductions are omnipresent, and our poor
eyes are very weak, and we turn away from the Lord to look on these
misshapen monsters that are seeking by their gaze to draw us into
destruction. I wonder how many professing Christians are in this
audience who once saw Jesus Christ a great deal more clearly, and
contemplated Him a great deal more fixedly, and turned their hearts to
Him far more lovingly, than they do to-day? Some of the great mountain
peaks of Africa are only seen for an hour or two in the morning, and
then the clouds gather around them, and hide them for the rest of the
day. It is like the experience of many professing Christians, who see
Him in the morning of their Christian life far more vividly than they
ever do after. 'Who hath bewitched you?' The world; but the
arch-sorcerer sits safe in our own hearts.
III. Lastly, keeping to the metaphor, let me suggest, although my text
does not touch upon it, the Amulet.
One has seen fond mothers in Egypt and Palestine who hang on their
babies' necks charms, to shield them from the influence of the Evil Eye;
and there is a charm that we may wear if we will, which will keep us
safe. There is no fascination in the Evil Eye if you do not look at it.
The one object that the sorcerer has is to withdraw our gaze from
Christ; it is not illogical to say that the way to defeat the object is
to keep our gaze fixed on Christ. If you do not look at the baleful
glitter of the Evil Eye it will exercise no power over you; and if you
will steadfastly look at Him, then, and only then, you will not look at
it. Like Ulysses in the legend, bandage the eyes and put wax in the
ears, if you would neither be tempted by hearing the songs, nor by
seeing the fair forms, of the sirens on their island. To look fixedly at
Jesus Christ, and with the resolve never to turn away from Him, is the
only safety against these tempting delights around us.
But, brethren, it is the crucified Christ, looking to whom, we are safe
amidst all seductions and snares. I doubt whether a Christ who did not
die for men has power enough over men's hearts and minds to draw them to
Himself. The cords which bind us to Him are the assurance of His dying
love which has conquered us. If only we will, day by day, and moment by
moment, as we pass through the duties and distractions, the temptations
and the trials, of this present life, by an act of will and thought turn
ourselves to Him, then all the glamour of false attractiveness will
disappear from the temptations around us, and we shall see that the
sirens, for all their fair forms, end in loathly fishes' tails and sit
amidst dead men's bones.
Brethren, 'looking _off_ unto Jesus' is the secret of triumph over the
fascinations of the world. And if we will habitually so look, then the
sweetness that we shall experience will destroy all the seducing power
of lesser and earthly sweetness, and the blessed light of the sun will
dim and all but extinguish the deceitful gleams that tempt us into the
swamps where we shall be drowned. Turn away, then, from these things;
cleave to Jesus Christ; and though in ourselves we may be as weak as a
humming-bird before a snake, or a rabbit before a tiger, He will give us
strength, and the light of His face shining down upon us will fix our
eyes and make us insensible to the fascinations of the sorcerers. So we
shall not need to dread the question, 'Who hath bewitched you?' but
ourselves challenge the utmost might of the fascination with the
triumphant question, 'Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?'
Help us, O Lord! we beseech Thee, to live near Thee. Turn away our eyes
from beholding vanity, and enable us to set the Lord always before us
that we be not moved.