house were a husband and wife, their children, and a servant maid. The
parents perished in the flames, but the servant appeared to the sight
of the crowd below, framed, as it were, in fire, at a blazing window.
Loudly shouted the excited crowd, bidding the girl to save herself.
But she was thinking of others. Throwing a bed from the window, she
signalled to those below to stretch it out. Then, darting into the
burning room, she brought one of the children of her employers, and
dropped it safely on to the bed. Fiercer grew the flames, but again
this humble heroine faced the fire, and saved the other children. Then
the spectators, loudly cheering, begged her to save herself. But her
strength was exhausted, she faltered in her jump, and was so injured
that death soon came to her. My brothers, no one will raise a grand
monument to Emma Willoughby, and Alice Ayres, who passed, the one
through water, the other through fire, for Christ's dear sake. But
surely in God's great Home of many mansions their names are written in
letters of gold.
Lastly, brethren, be strong in _fighting the battle_. You know that
life is a great battle-field. And you know, too, that as Christians
yours is the _good_ fight. Put on, then, the whole armour of God. Do
not trust to any newly-invented weapons. Take the same armour in which
S. Paul, and many another veteran soldier of Christ, fought and
conquered. "We wrestle not against flesh and blood." No, our battle
is with Satan and his hosts. One of old says that we must strip if we
would wrestle with the devil. We must cast aside every weight, strip
us of all the hinderances, and worldly cares, which weigh us down; and
be clad in the spiritual armour of God. Hold fast to the old armour,
the shield of faith, the breastplate of righteousness, the sword of the
Spirit. Be strong in the strength of the Holy Ghost, for your strength
shall be made perfect in weakness. Stand, as Christ's soldiers, side
by side, shoulder to shoulder, with your faces to the foe. When
Napoleon retreated from Moscow, and the main body had passed by, the
mounted Cossacks hovered around the stragglers, who, overcome by cold
and fatigue, could only force their way slowly through the snow. Many
a weary Frenchman thus fell beneath the Cossack lances. Presently a
band of these fierce horsemen saw a dark object on the snowy plain, and
dashed towards it. They were face to face with a small body of French
who had formed into a square to resist them, their bayonets at the
charge. The Cossacks rode round and round, seeking for a weak place
for attack, and finding none. At length they charged the square, and
found it formed of frozen corpses. The Frenchmen had died whilst
waiting for the foe. Brothers, may death find us fighting the good
fight. "Be strong in the Lord."
SERMON LVII.
THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS.
(Twenty-second Sunday after Trinity.)
S. MATTHEW xviii. 28,
"Pay me that thou owest."
The Gospel shows us in a parable a picture of a king who called his
servants to a reckoning. That King is the Lord God Almighty. We are
His servants, and He calls us to account every day. All we possess we
owe as a debt to God. Day by day He gives us our food, and supplies
our wants by His good Providence. On every hour of our existence is
written, Jehovah-Jireh--The Lord will provide. Day by day God takes
care of us, and shields us from danger. He provides for our souls as
well as for our bodies, and gives us the ministry of His Church, the
grace of His Sacraments, the teaching of His Bible, the blessing of
prayer. And all these blessings are a debt which we owe to God, and He
is ever saying to us. "Pay Me that thou owest." And how can we pay?
By doing what God bids us. By using our gifts in His service. We can
give Him _worship_, not only worship in Church, but in all our everyday
life and work, "doing all unto the glory of God." We can show forth
His praise not only with our lips but in our lives. God has given us
hands and brains to work with; and He says, "Pay Me that thou owest."
That means that we must do good work, honest work, unselfish work,
because we owe our power to labour as a debt to God. He has given us a
voice, and He says, "Pay Me that thou owest." That means that we must
use our voice to sing God's praise, to maintain His honour, to spread
the truth of His Gospel, to comfort His people. We must devote our
voice to speaking good words, and never defile it with vile language in
the devil's service, because it is a debt which we owe to God. So with
our health, our strength, our time, for all these God reckons with His
servants. If we are misusing these things, wasting our time, devoting
our strength to mere selfish, worldly pursuits, neglecting our
opportunities, terrible will be the final day of reckoning when God
will say for the last time, "Pay Me that thou owest."
We read in the parable of to-day's Gospel that one of the king's
servants owed him ten thousand talents. This was so vast a sum that no
man could possibly pay it. In that servant we see ourselves. We owe a
debt to God which we cannot pay. The wages of sin is death, and as
sinners we are like the servant, we owe a vast debt, and we have not
wherewithal to pay. Nothing that we can do will put away our sin, or
excuse us from the penalty. That servant in the parable prayed his
lord to have patience, saying that he would pay all. We may think
foolishly that we can pay the debt of old sins by leading good lives
now. But it may not be. If a man owes money he is not excused the
debt because now he pays his way. Our sins are the great debt of ten
thousand talents. God's law is written in the ten commandments, and we
have broken them a thousand times. We cannot pay. The king in his
mercy forgave the servant. So God forgives us through the merits and
mediation of Jesus Christ. He paid the debt which we cannot pay, He
bore our sins, the sin of Adam born with us, and the actual sins of our
lives, on the Cross of Calvary. His Blood was the price which paid the
debt. When we are baptised we are baptised into His Death, and the sin
of Adam is forgiven. When we repent truly of a sin of our own
committing, we are made partakers in the benefits of His Passion. When
we come devoutly to Holy Communion our sinful bodies are made clean by
Christ's Body, and our souls washed in His most Precious Blood, and our
sins are forgiven us. But the parable not only teaches us our need of
pardon, and the fulness of God's mercy, but the necessity of forgiving
each other. The servant who owed the vast debt was pardoned. Yet he
would not forgive his fellow servant who owed him a trifling sum. The
story of the unmerciful servant is being repeated everywhere around us.
We see men crying to God for mercy--poor, sinful, debtors, bankrupts,
who have not wherewithal to pay. Every day we are obliged to confess
that we owe a debt to God, and cannot pay it. And every day the Lord
of mercy and love forgives us our debt. Yes, but only on certain
conditions. God has Himself taught us to say, Forgive us our debts, as
we forgive our debtors. If we are unmerciful servants, refusing to our
fellow men what God gives us, He will treat us as He treated the
servant of the parable. He had forgiven him all, but now He withdraws
His pardon, and delivers him to the tormentors. A man with an
unforgiving spirit, who nourishes hatred and revenge against a
neighbour, is already possessed by a devil, and his future must be
spent in the society of devils.
And now bring the matter home to your own individual cases. Are you
nourishing bitter, unforgiving feelings against anyone who has injured
you? Is there anyone whose success annoys you, and whose misfortune
would give you pleasure? Are you thinking of some wrong done to you,
some hard word spoken about you, some unjust judgment passed on you;
and are you hoping that a day may come when the person who has so
acted, or spoken, may suffer for it? My brothers, if so, you are just
so many unmerciful servants, going through the world, and seizing your
brother-sinners by the throat, and saying--"Pay me that thou owest."
Give up calling yourselves Christians, give up asking God to pardon
you, unless you can freely and fully forgive your brethren the little
debts of this little world. A certain king of France said that nothing
smelt so sweet as the dead body of an enemy. And there are people
among us now who tell us that revenge is sweet. But it is false. To
forgive is sweet, is blessed, to hate brings only the remorse of
devils. But you tell me it is so hard to forgive sometimes. So it is,
but the greater the pardon given the greater the blessing. And
remember that forgiveness must not be measured, and stinted, but free,
and full. We must not say, "I will forgive him this once, but never
more." S. Peter asked Jesus how often he should pardon a brother's
sin, and suggested seven times. The Jewish teachers said that after
three faults men need not forgive. S. Peter was in advance of them,
but the Lord's answer must have astonished him,--"until seventy times
seven," that meant _always_, without stint, or measure. And remember
also, that forgiveness must be real and true. We may not forgive with
our lips, and bear malice in our hearts. Such sham forgiveness is only
too common. A man was lying on his sick bed, and the clergyman by his
side was urging him to be reconciled to some one who had injured him.
After much persuasion the man said, "If I die I will forgive him, but
if I live he had better keep out of my way." And again, our
forgiveness must be willing, not forced from us. As says our greatest
poet--
"the quality of mercy is not strain'd;
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from Heaven,
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blessed;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:
Tis mightiest in the mightiest."
A boy, nearly broken-hearted with grief, stood by his mother's coffin.
"Oh! let me see my dear mother once more, only once more," he pleaded.
A man who was about to screw down the coffin-lid thrust him aside with
brutal violence, and even struck the orphan child. Years afterwards
that man stood in the dock, to be tried for his life as a murderer. He
had no counsel to defend him, but just as the case commenced a young
barrister rose in court, and offered his services to the prisoner. His
speech for the defence was so eloquent, and so convincing, that the
prisoner was acquitted. Outside the court he turned to thank his
preserver. The stranger looked at him steadily, and said, "Do you
remember years ago, driving a poor, broken-hearted boy from his
mother's coffin with a curse and a blow? I was that boy." The man was
overwhelmed with shame and confusion. "Why have you given me my life?"
he asked. "To show you," answered the other, "that I can forgive."
Oh! my brothers, if we would find pardon for our many sins, let us ask
Him who prayed for His murderers to teach us how to forgive.
"Walk with care 'mid human spirits,
Walk for blessing, not for ban;
'Twere better never to have lived,
Than lived to curse a deathless man.
SERMON LVIII.
THE FREEDOM OF THE CITY.
(Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity.)
PHIL. iii. 20.
"Our conversation is in Heaven."
People often fail to get at the meaning of this glorious text because
they mistake that word _conversation_. Really the text means--our
citizenship is in Heaven, we belong to the Eternal City. Once S. Paul
declared with pride that he was a Roman citizen; and when the Chief
Captain in surprise declared that he himself had purchased that
privilege at a great price, the Apostle answered, "but I was free
born." Every Christian has the right to call himself a citizen of
Heaven, and to declare that he is free born. When in Holy Baptism we
were born again of water, and of the Holy Ghost, the freedom of the
City was given to us, and we were made a peculiar people, citizens of
the Heavenly Jerusalem, with all the privileges, and all the
responsibilities, belonging to such a position. Get this glorious fact
into your minds, brethren, not that you are _going_ to belong to
Heaven, but that you _do_ belong to it now. Here in earth you are
foreigners, strangers and pilgrims. Here God's Israel is in exile by
the waters of Babylon, Jerusalem on high, the Heavenly Sion, is yonder,
and that is home. Heaven is yours now, if you forfeit it, if you lose
your inheritance, it will be from your own fault, your own sin.
First, I think that the fact of Heaven being our home should make us
_love_ it. Sometimes we find people who have willingly settled in a
foreign country, and done their best to forget the manners and language
of their native land. But such cases are very rare. If you meet with
an Englishman out in the Colonies, he always speaks of the old country
as home. Even colonists who have been born in our foreign settlements,
and have never seen England, speak of _going home_ when they visit it.
In many an Australian hut, or New Zealand farm, there is a swelling of
the heart, or a glistening in the eyes, as the faded flowers drop from
the home letter. The flowers are poor enough, and dead enough, but
they once grew in a home garden, or blossomed in an English meadow.
One of our great novelists tells us how two men in Australia walked
many weary miles only to listen to the song of the skylark. That
homely bird was precious in their eyes because it reminded them of
home. I have read that when Swiss soldiers are abroad, they are not
allowed to play, or listen to, their national airs. The music reminds
them of their cow-bells ringing among the fair valleys and mountains of
their native land, and under its influence some have deserted the army,
and some even died of grief. The German loves to talk of the
_Fatherland_, and has a word in his language which very strongly
expresses home-sickness. Talk to a Scotsman about the beauties of
Venice, or Rome, and he will tell you that you should see Edinburgh, or
Aberdeen. Speak to an Irishman of the wonders of the tropics, and he
will at once begin the praises of the Green Isle. The love of home is
the very root and core of our nature. Well, if we love our earthly
home, where we stay for so short a time, where, after all, we are but
strangers and pilgrims, we ought still more to love Heaven, whose
citizens we are. A child was once asked where his home was, and
answered with eyes full of love--"Where mother is." Brothers, our home
is where Jesus is.
Next, I think we ought to be _proud_ of being citizens of so fair a
city as Heaven. A Greek of old was proud to belong to a country which
could boast of the learning of Athens, the wisdom of Plato, the courage
of Leonidas. If a Roman in former days was asked to do a mean, or
dishonourable action, it was enough for him to answer, "I am a Roman
citizen!" A burgess of London City to-day is proud of the position
which he holds, and of the rights and privileges gained by many an
ancient charter of freedom. But what ought we to think of the
privileges and glory of belonging to that City which is God's Home; of
being fellow citizens with the saints in light; of claiming as our
brethren that great multitude which no man can number? Each town and
city of earth is proud of its most famous citizens, but what city can
show such names as our City, Jerusalem on high? What streets are
crowded with such a goodly company as the streets of Heaven? All that
is great and good, glorious, pure, gentle, self-sacrificing, finds a
place in Heaven. Mighty Preachers and Apostles, like S. Paul or S.
Chrysostom; simple girls, like Naaman's maid, or Veronica, the
farm-servant; brave women who died martyrs for Jesus in the Arena, and
those who _lived_ as witnesses for Jesus, like Grace Darling, and
Florence Nightingale, and Sister Dora; these, and such as these, of
whom the time would fail me to tell, form the company of Heaven.
"Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever
things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are
lovely, think on these things." And think, too, "'Tis mine, 'tis mine,
that country, if I but persevere."
We must remember, however, that a citizen has certain duties, as well
as rights and privileges, and if he neglects the former he forfeits the
latter. We, as citizens of Heaven, though exiles here in earth, have
certain duties and responsibilities laid upon us; if we fail to perform
them, we lose our position as God's people. When an Englishman goes
abroad to a foreign country he is at once recognised. When the
foreigner sees the reckless courage, the cool daring, the love of
adventure, displayed by his visitor, he says at once, "that is an
Englishman." We are here in a strange land, does the world take notice
of us as those who belong to Jesus? Does the world recognise us, by
our manners, and way of life, as citizens of Heaven?
Think of some of the duties laid upon us as those who have received the
freedom of the City. We are bound, first of all, to keep ourselves, as
far as possible, unspotted from the world. We must live in the world
for a time, but we must not be of it. If an Englishman were compelled
to live for a season among savages, whose habits were horrible and
disgusting, he would take care not to become like them. He would think
of himself as being a civilized man, to whom the manners of the people
were revolting, and he would endeavour, whilst avoiding their example,
to set them a better. So should a Christian man be in the world. He
cannot avoid seeing and hearing much that is evil. But let him take
care lest, like Israel of old, he mingles with the unbeliever, and
learns their ways. Let him remember that he is a citizen of Heaven,
and that he has no more right to take part in the frauds, and lies, and
impurity of the world, than Lot had to join in the abominations of
Sodom. A Christian man should stand above the waves of this
troublesome world, as a lighthouse stands above the tumbling billows of
the sea. And, like that beacon, he should give forth a warning light,
clear, bright, and steady.
Next, as citizens of Heaven, we are bound to work for our Heavenly
Master. No matter that we are in a foreign workshop here in this
world, no matter that we are employed by earthly masters, one Master is
ours, and He is in Heaven. We must be busy about our Father's
business, we must do all, looking unto Jesus. Suppose that the Queen
were passing through this parish, and were to stop at one of your
homes, say that of a cabinetmaker. And suppose that she were to order
him to make her a cabinet after a particular pattern. Well, the man
would be very much flattered at the order, and you may be sure he would
take the greatest pains to put good work into the cabinet. "You see it
is for the Queen," he would say to his neighbour, in explanation of his
extra care. Now, my brothers, whatever kind of work we have to do, we
ought to do it as well as we can, saying to ourselves, "it is for the
King of kings, you see." Oh! if men would only remember that, then
there would be no more cheating, and swindling, and lying in trade; no
more labourers and artizans scamping their work, putting in bad
material, working short time, and committing the endless dishonest acts
which disgrace a Christian land. Try to remember that whatever you
have to do, you are working for God, you are a citizen of Heaven, and
to your Heavenly Master must the account be rendered. There shall
enter into Heaven nothing that maketh a lie. If our lives are not
quite genuine and honest here, we are locking ourselves out of Heaven.
Let us, as citizens of no mean city, keep aloof from the hypocrite, the
teller or maker of a lie, and speak every man truth with his neighbour.
Again, I think that as citizens of Heaven, we ought to take very good
heed to our _words_. You know how our streets and lanes in this world
are defiled and made hideous by vile language. Can you fancy that sort
of talk in the streets of the Heavenly City? No, there shall not enter
there anything that defileth, peace is upon her palaces. The swearing
tongue, the impure tongue, the angry tongue, can find no place there.
The cruel, slandering tongue talks many a soul into ruin, for they have
no room for the scandal-monger in Heaven. Let us guard our speech,
brethren, let us remember that, as Heavenly citizens, our lips should
be sanctified by the fire of God's Altar. "Whoso keepeth his mouth and
his tongue, keepeth his soul from troubles."
Once more, as citizens of Heaven, we must keep our home ever fresh in
our minds. Here we are strangers in a strange land. You know how we
English abroad always cling to anything which reminds us of _home_.
The settler in the Australian Bush keeps Christmas Day beneath the
burning summer sky exactly as he always kept it amid the snow and ice
of an English winter. When letters come, how eagerly are they read if
they come from home! Many a rough miner on the other side of the world
grows gentler as he looks at the faded photograph, or the yellow note
paper; they remind him of home. Well, here in earth, far from our
Heavenly home, we have certain means of keeping its memory fresh. We
can go to God's Holy Church, and there join with Angels and Archangels
and all the company of Heaven in praise and adoration of our King. We
can read our Bible, and then we gaze, as it were, upon the picture of
Saviour Jesus, and upon the faces of our brother citizens who have
entered by the gates of pearl. We can pray, and so send a message to
our City, and get an answer back again, a blessing coming like a sweet
flower sent from the fields of Paradise. When our soldiers do noble
deeds abroad, their thought is--what will they say in England? Let us
do our duty here in a strange land, thinking--what will they say in
Heaven? My brother, my sister, let this thought help you to struggle
against temptation--I must walk worthy of my vocation, I am a citizen
of Heaven.
SERMON LIX.
THANKFUL SERVICE.
(Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity.)
COL. i. 12.
"Giving thanks."
In one of our northern coal-pits there was a little boy employed in a
lonely and dangerous part of the mine. One day a visitor to the
coal-pit asked the boy about his work, and the child answered, "Yes, it
is very lonely here, but I pick up the little bits of candle thrown
away by the colliers, and join them together, and when I get a light I
sing." My brothers, every day of our lives we are picking up blessings
which the loving Hand of God has scattered around, every day we get the
light, but how many of us sing?
I want to talk to you about the duty and blessing of thankfulness, and
how it can be shown. Gratitude is the root of all true Christian
service and worship. If we go to Church, and give money for religious
purposes, only because we want to stand well with God, or to get
something from Him, our service is mere selfishness. We are like
people buying votes to get themselves into a charitable asylum. All we
do in the service of God should be done from a motive of thankfulness.
The thought should be, "What shall I render unto the Lord for all His
benefits?"
If a man does the state some great service we give him a pension, or a
statue. It is nothing very much, but we do what we can to show our
gratitude. During the last American War a farmer was discovered one
day kneeling by the grave of a soldier lately killed in battle. He was
asked if the dead man were his son, and answered that the soldier was
no relation: and then he told his story. The farmer, who had a sickly
wife, and several children, was drafted for the army, and had no one
who could carry on his farm, or take care of his family, whilst he went
to the war. Whilst he was overwhelmed with trouble, the son of a
neighbour came forward, and said, "I have no one depending on me, I
will go to the war in your place." He went, and was killed in action,
and the farmer had travelled many a weary mile to kneel beside his
grave, and to carve on the headstone the words--"_Died for me._"
Brethren, what ought our gratitude to be to the Lord Jesus, who loved
us, and died for us upon the Cross of Calvary? True gratitude is shown
by deeds as well as words. We must try to show our thankfulness to God
not only with our lips but in our lives. Too many people are content
to get all they can from God, and never to give anything in return.
They tell us that they are poor miserable sinners, who can do nothing,
and give nothing, they must leave all to the mercies of Jesus. Now,
brethren, this is very often mere selfishness. They do not _want_ to
give anything to God, they are not really thankful. It is not true to
say that we can give nothing to God. We are bidden in the Gospel to
render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things
that are God's. We can all give God _worship_, and we should give it
in the best way possible, as a token of our thankfulness.