is no slavery so hard as that of sin, no taskmaster so bitter as the
devil. There was a tyrant in the old times who ordered one of his
subjects to make an iron chain of a certain length, in a given time.
The man brought the work, and the tyrant bade him make it longer still.
And he continued to add link to link, till at length the cruel
taskmaster ordered his servants to bind the worker with his own chain,
and cast him into the fire. That hardest of tyrants, the devil, treats
his slaves in like manner. At first the chain of sin is light, and
could easily be cast off. But day by day Satan bids his victims add
another link. The servant of sin grows more hardened, more daring,
more reckless in his evil way. He adds sin to sin, link to link, and
then the end comes, and the tyrant binds him hand and foot with his own
chain, and casts him into outer darkness, where there is weeping, and
gnashing of teeth. Very often the slaves of sin do not know that they
_are_ slaves. They talk about their freedom from restraint, they tell
us they are their own masters, they would have us believe that the
godly, who try to keep the commandments, and walk in the narrow way,
are slaves, but _they_ are free! Oh! fools, and slow of heart! As
well might a prisoner cover his irons with a cloak, and try to pass as
a free man. We can _hear the clank of the chains_. So is it with the
slave of sin. Once I visited a madhouse, and talked with some of the
poor patients. Some had one delusion, some another. One thought he
was a king, another fancied himself the heir to a fortune. But one
thing they all believed, that they were in their right minds.
My brothers, the slaves of sin are like these poor mad folk, they do
not understand that what they call freedom is slavery, that what they
style pleasure is misery, that instead of being the clever, reckless,
free people they think themselves, they are only mad people possessed
of the devil. First, then, we have seen that the servants of sin do
not know that they are slaves. The tyrant, Satan, blinds their eyes
before he binds them in the fetters of his prison house, even as the
Philistines blinded the strong man of old. Next, the servants of sin
bear about the marks of their master I have seen gangs of convicts
working on Dartmoor. You could not mistake them for anything else if
they were dressed in the best of clothing. The word _convict_ is
stamped upon every grey face, as plainly as the Government mark is
stamped upon their clothing. The servants of sin have their marks
also. Look at the shifty eyes, and downward glance of the knave and
the false man; mark the flushed brow and cruel eyes of the angry man;
see the weak lips and trembling hand of the drunkard; they bear the
marks of their slavery very plainly. So, too, the sensualist who lives
for his body, the impure man, the slave of lust, the criminal, haunted
by a guilty secret, the selfish worldling, who cares only for this
life; these all bear the traces of their sin upon them, these show
whose they are, and whom they serve. Again, the servants of sin have
their so-called enjoyments, these are the baits with which the tyrant
gets them into his power. For a time the way of transgressors is made
easy and pleasant. The broad road is shaded, and edged with fair
fruits and flowers. The down-hill path is strewn with glittering
jewels, the booths of vanity fair are fitted with all manner of
delights, and the poor slave goes on, scarce feeling his chains, or
knowing of his slavery, till the day of reckoning comes. "There is a
way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of
death." A saint of old once saw a man leading a herd of swine, which
followed him willingly. The saint asked whither he was taking them,
and he answered, to the slaughter. When the saint marvelled that the
swine should go so readily to their death, the man showed him that they
followed him for the sake of the sweet food in his hand, and knew not
whither they were going. My brothers, the servants of sin follow Satan
for the sake of the sweet things which he offers, and know not that
they are going to their death, even the living death of a lost soul.
Some of you remember the old German legend of doctor Faustus. It is a
terrible parable of the fate of all those who become the slave of sin.
Faustus is represented as a man of great learning, who used his
knowledge for evil instead of good. Being filled with pride, he
refused to bow down to God, and made a bargain with Satan that he was
to have his own way, and every wish gratified for a certain term of
years, and then he was to pay the price--his own soul. During those
years he had all the health and strength of youth, he enjoyed all the
pleasures of the body, the world, the flesh, and the devil were his
servants. But one thing he lacked, he had not God, and so he had no
hope. There were times when he thought of the horrible bargain which
he had made. He desired to see Paradise and Hell, and he was shown a
glimpse of both. His servants found him in deep sorrow, and asked him
what he had seen, and what the sorrows of Hell were like. But he
answered that he remembered not, one thing only he recalled, the peace
and beauty of that Paradise which he had forfeited for ever. This is
the story of every slave of sin.
My brothers, there are many who have bargained with Satan, offering the
price of their own souls. When the Tempter came to the Saviour in the
wilderness, he offered Him the glory and splendour of the world if
Jesus would fall down and worship him. It is the same with us. Satan
offers us this world instead of the world to come. He offers us our
own way, so dear to all of us. He offers us the pleasures of the body,
"let us eat and drink." He offers us self-indulgence in all the lusts
of the flesh. He offers us all the flash and glitter of the world, but
he does not let us see the foulness and rottenness which they cover.
To the man of science he comes, as to Faustus in the legend, and tries
to induce him to set up his knowledge against the All-wise, and to
drive God out of His own fair universe. He does not show him how sad
life must be without the knowledge of God: how miserable death must be
without a Saviour. He comes to the man of business, and shows him
visions of vast wealth. He whispers, "All these things will I give
thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me." And that implies false
dealing, sharp practice, trickery, knavery. It implies loss of
self-respect, loss of honour, the reproaches of an ever-accusing
conscience. The tempter comes to the young man or woman, and shows
them all the delights of a life of pleasure. They see the sparkle of
the wine cup, the glitter of the ball room, the pomp and vanities of
this wicked world. But they do not see the other side of the picture.
They do not see the grey, cold morning of sorrow which follows the
night of dissipation and sin. The young woman looks on the tempting
dress, the flash of jewels, the gay company. She does not see the
_price_ she must pay. She cannot see herself disgraced and ruined, and
cast aside like a broken toy. She can hear the music of the revel, but
not the reproaches of a broken-hearted dying mother. The young man
sees only the bright side of the picture, Satan keeps the dark side
hidden. He fancies himself his own master, free from the restraints of
home and parents, walking in his own way, in the lust of the eye, and
the pride of life. Ah! brother, the way seems very charming now--it
will be hard enough one day. The cup of pleasure seems very sweet now,
the dregs thereof will be bitter enough one day: as for the ungodly,
they shall drink them and suck them up. The food which the world
offers seems as honey and the honeycomb now: the day is coming when it
will be as ashes. You will come one day to the husks--the sick room,
the dying bed,--and you will know that you gained this world and lost
the world to come: like the rich man, you will in this life have had
your good things, but _you will have paid the price_. And those old
words will have a terrible meaning for you then, "What shall it profit
a man to gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" Yes, the
servants of sin must fulfil their contract and receive their wages, and
the wages of sin is death. Ah! brethren, be serious; are these things
nothing to you? Are there none of you who _know_ that you are the
slaves of some besetting sin? Look into your lives, see whose marks
are upon you, whose servants you are. Are you still tied and bound
with the chain of your sins? If so, turn you to Him who can alone set
you free; to Him who drove the strong man armed from his palace; to Him
who conquered Satan in the wilderness, in the garden, on the cross; to
Him who can make the weakest strong, the most sorely tempted able to
triumph; Who can wash the foulest life till it shall be whiter than
snow. Brothers, dare we turn away and carry our chain of slavery
longer? No, let us make a struggle to be free, and let our prayer be,
"O God, whose nature and property is ever to have mercy and to forgive,
receive our humble petitions; and though we be tied and bound with the
chain of our sins, yet let the pitifulness of Thy great mercy loose us,
for the honour of Jesus Christ, our Mediator and Advocate."
SERMON XLIII.
KNOWN BY THEIR FRUITS.
(Eighth Sunday after Trinity.)
S. MATT. vii. 16.
"Ye shall know them by their fruits."
The religion of Jesus Christ is one of deeds, not words; a life of
action, not of dreaming. Our Lord warns us to beware of any form of
religion, in ourselves or others, which does not bring forth good
fruit. God does not look for the leaves of profession, or the blossoms
of promise, He looks for fruit unto holiness. We may profess to
believe in Jesus Christ, we may say the Creed without a mistake, we may
read our Bible, and say our prayers, and yet, if our lives are bad, all
our religion is vain. If we would know whether we are being led by the
Holy Spirit, we must see if we are bringing forth _fruits_ of the
Spirit. If we would discover if the works of a clock are right, we
look at the hands. So, by our words and deeds we shall show whether
our hearts are right with God. A religion of the lips is worth
nothing. We may cry, "Lord, Lord," in our place in Church, we may
repeat the words which speak of the Will of God, and utter pious wishes
when we sing chant or hymn, and all the while we may be far off from
the Kingdom of Heaven, because we are not in our lives doing the will
of our Father which is in Heaven. If we are selfish, self-willed,
proud, lovers of our own selves, our religion is but the sheep's
clothing covering the wolfish heart, or the white paint hiding the
corruption of the sepulchre. It is easy enough to assume the character
and manner of a Christian, but to live the Christian life is not so
easy. A man can make a sham diamond in a very short time, but the real
gem must lie for ages in the earth before it can sparkle with perfect
purity. We have far too many of these quickly made Christians amongst
us, who have never brought forth fruits meet for repentance, nor gone
through the fire of trial, and sorrow, and self-sacrifice. Do not
trust to feelings, or words, in yourselves or others, look at your
life; a real and a false diamond are very much alike, and yet there is
all the difference in the world in their value.
"If ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall
live. For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons
of God." My brothers, who is our leader and guide, the Holy Spirit, or
our own will? How shall we know? By our fruits. They tell us that
whenever the holy saint David, of Wales, stood up to preach, there came
a milk-white dove, and sat upon his shoulder. It is a serious question
for you and me, for preacher and people, does the White Dove perch on
my shoulder as I preach? Does the Holy Ghost descend like a dove on
you who hear? Men of business, anxious workers, is the White Dove with
you in your factory, your farm, your office? Mothers and fathers,
young men and maidens, is there a place in your home where the Holy
Spirit may come, and continually dwell?
Let us look into our lives very closely, and see whether we are
mistaking outward form for true religion, words and professions for
holiness, leaves for fruit. What are some of the fruits which God
looks for in the life of a Christian? At the head of all, I think, we
must place _love_. Ah! you will say to me,--I only wish I could love
God more. It is so hard to love One whom we cannot see. I worship
God, I try to keep His commandments, but I am not sure that I _love_
God. My brother, my sister, let not your heart be troubled. If you
really try to do God's Will it is a proof of your love. "If ye love
Me, keep My commandments." "For this is the love of God, that we keep
His commandments. If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he
is a liar. We know that we do know Him if we keep His commandments."
You can show your love to God by showing love and kindness to your
brethren. By kindly judgments of another's fault; by gentle words of
comfort, of pity, or of warning; by tender hands stretched out to bring
back the wandering sheep; by loving acts of charity to the sick and
suffering; by care for the poor bruised reeds of this rough world, you
can show your love for God, who is the source of all love. If we love
God we shall try to lead others to Him. A true Christian cannot be
selfish. Think of the example you set to others. Is it a good one, a
strong one, a light shining before men so that they can see your good
works? At the battle of Tel-el-Keber our troops had no sufficient
plans of the ground. The General therefore ordered a young naval
officer to lead the Highland Brigade by the light of the stars to their
destined post. When the fight began the Highlanders were ready, and
among the first to fall was their young leader. The victory was
gained, and the General hastened to the tent of his wounded officer.
The dying man smiled as he raised his trembling hand to his commander,
and looking him in the face said, "General, didn't I lead them
straight?" My brothers, we are leading our fellow men by the example
of our lives, the question is, _are we leading them straight?_
Another fruit for which God looks in a Christian's life is _humility_.
Every act and word of our Saviour's earthly life teaches us to be
humble. Let the haughty, the proud, the self-satisfied man, open his
Gospel, and he will find a reproof to his pride on every page. Let him
bend his head, and bow his stiff knee before the Almighty God, cradled
in a manger, fasting in the desert, homeless, friendless, silent before
His foes, stripped, mocked and beaten, dying upon the Cross. Go, my
brother, and bow your head at Gethsemane; go, kneel before the Cross of
Calvary, and ask God to make you humble. The longer a true Christian
lives the more humble-minded he becomes. A young man, just starting in
life, holds his head high, and is inclined to look down on others. But
as he journeys on through the world, learning by experience, his head
grows bent and lowly. So is it with Christ's people. The longer we go
to His School, and the more we know of the way of godliness, the
humbler we become. Like S. Paul, we count not that we have attained
the mark, we only press forward towards it. We begin with shame to
take the lowest place, we learn to consider others better than
ourselves, and to say to our Lord, "I am not worthy that Thou shouldest
come under my roof." As the laden fruit tree bends its branches
nearest to the earth, and the fullest ears of corn hang lowest, so the
holiest man is ever the humblest. In a certain city abroad every child
found begging in the streets is taken to a charitable asylum. Before
he is washed, and dressed anew, his portrait is taken as he stands in
his beggar's rags. When his education is finished, this picture is
given to the child, and he is made to promise that he will keep it all
his life, that he may be reminded what he was, and what great things
have been done for him. It is good for us to remember, my brothers,
what we were: helpless wanderers in this world, clothed in filthy rags
of sin; and we must remember, too, what God has done for us. How He
has redeemed us from our slavery, making us His own children by
adoption, washing us in the Blood of Christ which cleanseth from all
sin, and giving us the white robe of holiness. Who is there who,
thinking upon these things, can be other than humble? Let us examine
ourselves, and see whether we are bringing forth that fruit. We preach
humility to others, we expect to see it in others' lives, are we humble
ourselves? Have we learnt to walk _humbly_ with our God?
Another fruit which God expects in the lives of His people is
_forgetfulness of self_. Have you stayed to calculate how much of your
time is occupied in thinking and talking of yourselves? In some houses
they line the rooms with looking glasses, so that wherever you turn you
see a reflection of yourself. My brethren, some of us pass all our
lives in such a room; we are for ever contemplating our own selves. We
spend our time in looking into a mirror that we may see our beauty, our
cleverness, our fine clothing. One glass reflects our pleasures and
amusements, another our sorrows and misfortunes. But every inch of
space is so filled with self that there is no room for another's joys
or sorrows, and, above all, there is no room for Jesus. Let us strive
by God's grace to get away from self, and the eternal thinking and
talking of our own concerns. Even Jesus Christ pleased not Himself,
and believe me, we are no Christians unless we are trying to forget
ourselves, and to deny ourselves. We must be crucified with Christ if
we are to reign with Him, and alas for us if we cannot show the marks
of the nails where we have been fastened to our cross. My brethren,
these are serious thoughts for us all. By our fruits, and by them
only, we shall be known. If our lives show no love, no humility, no
self-sacrifice, no patience, no meekness, how shall we stand when the
great day of ingathering comes? Often the Dresser of the Vineyard has
looked upon some of us, seeking fruit, and finding none, and we know
not how soon the sentence may go forth, "Cut it down, why cumbereth it
the ground."
SERMON XLIV.
RENDERING OUR ACCOUNT.
(Ninth Sunday after Trinity.)
S. LUKE xvi. 2.
"Give an account of thy stewardship."
My brothers, we shall all hear that command one day. When our earthly
business is finished and done with, when our debts are paid, and our
just claims settled, and our account books balanced for the last time,
we must render our account to God, the Righteous Judge. But it is not
only at the day of Judgment that the Lord so calls upon us. _Then_ He
will ask for the final reckoning,--"Give an account of thy stewardship,
for thou mayest be no longer steward." Now, whilst we are yet alive on
the earth, whilst we are still in the enjoyment of our stewardship,
God, at certain times, calls for an account. Whenever the Holy Spirit
touches our hearts, and stirs our conscience, and we look into the
secret places of our life, and examine ourselves, then we hear the
whisper of God, "Give an account of thy stewardship--how much owest
thou unto my Lord?" Then at our dying bed there will be all our past
life; our youth, our manhood, our working days, our times of pleasure,
these will all be clamouring in our ears--"Give an account of thy
stewardship." The dying bed of a sinner, who has wasted his life, will
be haunted by the ghosts and phantoms of the past. Days dead and gone,
sins dead and forgotten, yet not forgiven, will be there to trouble the
thoughts of the dying man, to murmur, "God requireth that which is
past; give an account of thy stewardship." Such a death-bed must be an
awful thing, no wonder that some people are said to _die hard_. It
must be indeed a sad ending to a misspent life, to leave it amid the
shadowy crowd of our former faults and failures; to the sound of the
evil words which we have spoken; to the stern summons of our unquiet
conscience--"Give an account of thy stewardship." May the merciful
Jesus save us from such a death as that. And that we may find pardon
and peace at the last, let us use the present, and not allow our
account to grow, like that of a reckless debtor, till we are
overwhelmed by the amount. We are all the stewards of Almighty God.
Whatever things we possess are our Master's goods. Let us see how we
have used them hitherto. "Give an account of thy stewardship."
What are some of the goods which our Master, God, has entrusted to our
care? First of all, there is the treasure of _time_. Our years, our
months, and weeks, and days, are all so many precious jewels lent to
us, and we must give a strict account of every one of them. Every day
of our life has its special work for God; have we always tried to do
the day's work with our might? Every day of our life is a teacher in
God's great School, and brings its lesson; have we tried to learn the
lesson aright? If we must give an account for every idle word, so
surely must we for every idle day. And remember that any time spent
entirely on selfish pleasure, or amusement, is wasted. Unless we are
doing some good, we are certainly doing some harm. There is a motto
very commonly engraved upon a sundial, which means that the moments of
time are perishing, and are being recorded in God's Book. Yes, they
are being put down to our account on one side or the other, just as we
have used, or misused, them. Look on two death-beds. A Queen of
England is dying, surrounded by her attendants. What are the last
words they hear her speak, as she passes over the brink of eternity?
"All my possessions for a moment of time!" Now look on another
picture. An English Admiral lies wounded unto death. The decks are
slippery with blood, and the air dark with smoke; but the sound of many
voices is heard, it is the British shout of victory. The dying hero
clasps the hand of his friend, and murmurs, "Now I am satisfied; thank
God, I have done my duty." Brethren, our ending of this life must be
like one of these. Either we must cry helplessly over wasted days,
which cannot return, and beg in vain for time to right some wrong; or
we shall die with the comforting thought that, in spite of many faults
and failures, we have tried to do our duty. Remember that time once
lost cannot be recovered. "Lost wealth may be replaced by industry,
lost knowledge by study, lost health by temperance and medicine, but
lost time is gone for ever."
Again, "give an account of thy stewardship," of the good things which
God has given you; your creation, preservation, and all the blessings
of this life; and above all, the redemption of the world by Jesus
Christ our Lord. I knew a man once who said that he was not thankful
to God for having created him. I think that man was wrong. We ought
to thank God for having made us, for if He had not we could never know
the joys of Heaven. This world is full of beauty, full of good things,
and we must give an account of our stewardship of them. God has sent
the sun to warm and cheer us, blue skies and flower-dotted meadows,
seed time and harvest, summer and winter, wind and storm fulfilling His
Word. Too often we take these gifts as a matter of course, and forget
to thank God, who giveth all. God has fed you, and clothed you, and
preserved you all these years; have you been thankful? "Give an
account of thy stewardship." Then think what we owe God for our
redemption, for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory. For
each of us Jesus suffered hunger and thirst, the temptation in the
wilderness, the agony in the Garden, the cruel torture of the Cross.
Do we think lightly of our sins? They were heavy enough to drive those
piercing nails through the Hands and Feet of Jesus. Do we _speak_
lightly of our sins? They were heavy enough to force that bitter cry
from Jesus, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" How much do
you owe unto our Lord for these benefits? "Give an account of thy
stewardship."