seems to speak of in the passage referred to. When a man has been
roused to serious resolutions, the chances are, that he fails to take
up with the one and only narrow way which leads to life. The chances
are that "then cometh the wicked one," and persuades him to choose some
path short of the true one--easier and pleasanter than it. And _this_
is the kind of course to which he is often seduced, as we frequently
witness it; viz. to feel a sort of dislike and contempt for his
ordinary worldly business as something beneath him. He knows he must
have what Scripture calls a spiritual mind, and he fancies that to have
a spiritual mind it is absolutely necessary to renounce all earnestness
or activity in his worldly employments, to profess to take no interest
in them, to despise the natural and ordinary pleasures of life,
violating the customs of society, adopting a melancholy air and a sad
tone of voice, and remaining silent and absent when among his natural
friends and relatives, as if saying to himself, "I have much higher
thoughts than to engage in all these perishing miserable things;"
acting with constraint and difficulty in the things about him; making
efforts to turn things which occur to the purpose of what he considers
spiritual reflection; using certain Scripture phrases and expressions;
delighting to exchange Scripture sentiments with persons whom he meets
of his own way of thinking; nay, making visible and audible signs of
deep feeling when Scripture or other religious subjects are mentioned,
and the like. He thinks he lives out of the world, and out of its
engagements, if he shuts (as it were) his eyes, and sits down doing
nothing. Altogether he looks upon his worldly occupation simply as a
burden and a cross, and considers it all gain to be able to throw it
off; and the sooner he can release himself from it, and the oftener, so
much the better.
Now I am far from denying that a man's worldly occupation _may_ be his
cross. Again, I am far from denying that under circumstances it may be
right even to retire from the world. But I am speaking of cases when
it is a person's duty to remain in his worldly calling, and when he
does remain in it, but when he cherishes dissatisfaction with it:
whereas what he ought to feel is this,--that _while_ in it he is to
glorify God, not _out_ of it, but _in_ it, and _by means_ of it,
according to the Apostle's direction, "not slothful in business,
fervent in spirit, serving the Lord." The Lord Jesus Christ our
Saviour is best served, and with the most fervent spirit, when men are
not slothful in business, but do their duty in that state of life in
which it has pleased God to call them.
Now what leads such a person into this mistake is, that he sees that
most men who engage cheerfully and diligently in worldly business, do
so from a worldly spirit, from a low carnal love of the world; and so
he thinks it is _his_ duty, on the contrary, _not_ to take a cheerful
part in the world's business at all. And it cannot be denied that the
greater part of the world is _absorbed_ in the world; so much so that I
am almost afraid to speak of the duty of being active in our worldly
business, lest I should seem to give countenance to that miserable
devotion to the things of time and sense, that love of bustle and
management, that desire of gain, and that aiming at influence and
importance, which abound on all sides. Bad as it is to be languid and
indifferent in our secular duties, and to account this religion, yet it
is far worse to be the slaves of this world, and to have our hearts in
the concerns of this world. I do not know any thing more dreadful than
a state of mind which is, perhaps, the characteristic of this country,
and which the prosperity of this country so miserably fosters. I mean
that ambitious spirit, to use a great word, but I know no other word to
express my meaning--that low ambition which sets every one on the
look-out to succeed and to rise in life, to amass money, to gain power,
to depress his rivals, to triumph over his hitherto superiors, to
affect a consequence and a gentility which he had not before, to affect
to have an opinion on high subjects, to pretend to form a judgment upon
sacred things, to choose his religion, to approve and condemn according
to his taste, to become a partizan in extensive measures for the
supposed temporal benefit of the community, to indulge the vision of
great things which are to come, great improvements, great wonders: all
things vast, all things new,--this most fearfully earthly and
grovelling spirit is likely, alas! to extend itself more and more among
our countrymen,--an intense, sleepless, restless, never-wearied,
never-satisfied, pursuit of Mammon in one shape or other, to the
exclusion of all deep, all holy, all calm, all reverent thoughts.
_This_ is the spirit in which, more or less (according to their
different tempers), men do commonly engage in concerns of this world;
and I repeat it, better, far better, were it to retire from the world
altogether than thus to engage in it--better with Elijah to fly to the
desert, than to serve Baal and Ashtoreth in Jerusalem.
But the persons I speak of, as despising this world, are far removed
from the spirit of Elijah. To flee from the world, or strenuously to
resist it, implies an energy and strength of mind which they have not.
They do neither one thing nor the other; they neither flee it, nor
engage zealously in its concerns; but they remain in the midst of them,
doing them in an indolent and negligent way, and think this is to be
spiritually minded; or, as in other cases, they really take an interest
in them, and yet speak as if they despised them.
But surely it is possible to "serve the Lord," yet not to be "slothful
in business;" not over devoted to it, but not to retire from it. We
may do _all things_ whatever we are about to God's glory; we may do all
things _heartily_, as to the Lord, and not to man, being both active
yet meditative; and now let me give some instances to show what I mean.
1. "Do all to the glory of God," says St. Paul, in the text; nay,
"whether we eat or drink;" so that it appears nothing is too slight or
trivial to glorify Him in. We will suppose then, to take the case
mentioned just now; we will suppose a man who has lately had more
serious thoughts than he had before, and determines to live more
religiously. In consequence of the turn his mind has taken he feels a
distaste for his worldly occupation, whether he is in trade, or in any
mechanical employment which allows little exercise of mind. He now
feels he would rather be in some other business, though in itself his
present occupation is quite lawful and pleasing to God. The
ill-instructed man will at once get impatient and quit it; or if he
does not quit it, at least he will be negligent and indolent in it.
But the true penitent will say to himself, "No; if it be an irksome
employment, so much the more does it suit _me_. I deserve no better.
I do not deserve to be fed even with husks. I am bound to afflict my
soul for my past sins. If I were to go in sackcloth and ashes, if I
were to live on bread and water, if I were to wash the feet of the poor
day by day, it would not be too great an humiliation; and the only
reason I do not, is, that I have no call that way, it would look
ostentatious. Gladly then will I hail an inconvenience which will try
me without any one's knowing it. Far from repining, I will, through
God's grace, go cheerfully about what I do not like. I will deny
myself. I know that with His help what is in itself painful, will thus
be pleasant as done towards Him. I know well that there is no pain but
may be borne comfortably, by the thought of Him, and by His grace, and
the strong determination of the will; nay, none but may soothe and
solace me. Even the natural taste and smell may be made to like what
they naturally dislike; even bitter medicine, which is nauseous to the
palate, may by a resolute will become tolerable. Nay, even sufferings
and torture, such as martyrs have borne, have before now been rejoiced
in and embraced heartily from love to Christ. I then, a sinner, will
take this light inconvenience in a generous way, pleased at the
opportunity of disciplining myself, and with self-abasement, as needing
a severe penitence. If there be parts in my occupation which I
especially dislike, if it requires a good deal of moving about and I
wish to be at home, or if it be sedentary and I wish to be in motion,
or if it requires rising early and I like to rise late, or if it makes
me solitary and I like to be with friends, all this unpleasant part, as
far as is consistent with my health, and so that it is not likely to be
a snare to me, I will choose by preference. Again, I see my religious
views are a hindrance to me. I see persons are suspicious of me. I
see that I offend people by my scrupulousness. I see that to get on in
life requires far more devotion to my worldly business than I can give
consistently with my duty to God, or without its becoming a temptation
to me. I know that I ought not, and (please God) I will not, sacrifice
my religion to it. My religious seasons and hours shall be my own. I
will not countenance any of the worldly dealings and practices, the
over-reaching ways, the sordid actions in which others indulge. And if
I am thrown back in life thereby, if I make less gains or lose friends,
and so come to be despised, and find others rise in the world while I
remain where I was, hard though this be to bear, it is an humiliation
which becomes me in requital for my sins, and in obedience to God; and
a very slight one it is, merely to be deprived of worldly successes, or
rather it is a gain. And this may be the manner in which Almighty God
will make an opening for me, if it is His blessed will, to leave my
present occupation. But leave it without a call from God, I certainly
must not. On the contrary, I will work in it the more diligently, as
far as higher duties allow me."
2. A second reason which will animate the Christian will be a desire of
letting his light shine before men. He will aim at winning others by
his own diligence and activity. He will say to himself, "My parents"
or "my master" or "employer shall never say of me, Religion has spoiled
him. They shall see me more active and alive than before. I will be
punctual and attentive, and adorn the Gospel of God our Saviour. My
companions shall never have occasion to laugh at any affectation of
religious feeling in me. No, I will affect nothing. In a manly way I
will, with God's blessing, do my duty. I will not, as far as I can
help, dishonour His service by any strangeness or extravagance of
conduct, any unreality of words, any over-softness or constraint of
manner; but they shall see that the fear of God only makes those who
cherish it more respectable in the world's eyes as well as more
heavenly-minded. What a blessed return it will be for God's mercies to
me, if I, who am like a brand plucked out of the burning, be allowed,
through His great mercy, to recommend that Gospel to others which He
has revealed to me, and to recommend it, as on the one hand by my
strictness in attending God's ordinances, in discountenancing vice and
folly, and by a conscientious walk; so, on the other hand, by all that
is of good report in social life, by uprightness, honesty, prudence,
and straightforwardness, by good temper, good-nature, and brotherly
love!"
3. Thankfulness to Almighty God, nay, and the inward life of the Spirit
itself, will be additional principles causing the Christian to labour
diligently in his calling. He will see God in all things. He will
recollect our Saviour's life. Christ was brought up to a humble trade.
When he labours in his own, he will think of his Lord and Master in
His. He will recollect that Christ went down to Nazareth and was
subject to His parents, that He walked long journeys, that He bore the
sun's heat and the storm, and had not where to lay His head. Again, he
knows that the Apostles had various employments of this world before
their calling; St. Andrew and St. Peter fishers, St. Matthew a
tax-gatherer, and St. Paul, even after his calling, still a tent-maker.
Accordingly, in whatever comes upon him, he will endeavour to discern
and gaze (as it were) on the countenance of his Saviour. He will feel
that the true contemplation of that Saviour lies _in_ his worldly
business, that as Christ is seen in the poor, and in the persecuted,
and in children, so is He seen in the employments which He puts upon
His chosen, whatever they be; that in attending to his own calling he
will be meeting Christ; that if he neglect it, he will not on that
account enjoy His presence at all the more, but that while performing
it, he will see Christ revealed to his soul amid the ordinary actions
of the day, as by a sort of sacrament. Thus he will take his worldly
business as a gift from Him, and will love it as such.
4. True humility is another principle which will lead us to desire to
glorify God in our worldly employments if possible, instead of
resigning them. Christ evidently puts His greater blessings on those
whom the world despises. He has bid His followers take the lowest
seat. He says that he who would be great must be as the servant of
all, that he who humbleth himself shall be exalted; and He Himself
washed His disciples' feet. Nay, He tells us, that He will gird
Himself, and serve them who have watched for Him, an astonishing
condescension, which makes us almost dumb with fear and rejoicing. All
this has its effect upon the Christian, and he sets about his business
with alacrity, and without a moment's delay, delighting to humble
himself, and to have the opportunity of putting himself in that
condition of life which our Lord especially blest.
5. Still further, he will use his worldly business as a means of
keeping him from vain and unprofitable thoughts. One cause of the
heart's devising evil is, that time is given it to do so. The man who
has his daily duties, who lays out his time for them hour by hour, is
saved a multitude of sins which have not time to get hold upon him.
The brooding over insults received, or the longing after some good not
granted, or regret at losses which have befallen us, or at the loss of
friends by death, or the attacks of impure and shameful thoughts, these
are kept off from him who takes care to be diligent and well employed.
Leisure is the occasion of all evil. Idleness is the first step in the
downward path which leads to hell. If we do not find employment to
engage our minds with, Satan will be sure to find his own employment
for them. Here we see the difference of motive with which a religious
and a worldly-minded man may do the same thing. Suppose a person has
had some sad affliction, say a bereavement: men of this world, having
no pleasure in religion, not liking to dwell on a loss to them
irreparable, in order to drown reflection, betake themselves to worldly
pursuits to divert their thoughts and banish gloom. The Christian
under the same circumstances does the same thing; but it is from a fear
lest he should relax and enfeeble his mind by barren sorrow; from a
dread of becoming discontented; from a belief that he is pleasing God
better, and is likely to secure his peace more fully, by not losing
time; from a feeling that, far from forgetting those whom he has lost
by thus acting, he shall only enjoy the thought of them the more really
and the more religiously.
6. Lastly, we see what judgment to give in a question sometimes
agitated, whether one should retire from our worldly business at the
close of life, to give our thoughts more entirely to God. To wish to
do so is so natural, that I suppose there is no one who would not wish
it. A great many persons are not allowed the privilege, a great many
are allowed it through increasing infirmities or extreme old age; but
every one, I conceive, if allowed to choose, would think it a privilege
to be allowed it, though a great many would find it difficult to
determine _when_ was the fit time. But let us consider what is the
reason of this so natural a wish. I fear that it is often not a
religious wish, often only partially religious. I fear a great number
of persons who aim at retiring from the world's business, do so under
the notion of their then enjoying themselves somewhat after the manner
of the rich man in the Gospel, who said, "Soul, thou hast much goods
laid up for many years." If this is the predominant aim of any one, of
course I need not say that it is a fatal sin, for Christ Himself has
said so. Others there are who are actuated by a mixed feeling; they
are aware that they do not give so much time to religion as they ought;
they do not live by rule; nay, they are not satisfied with the
correctness or uprightness of some of the practices or customs which
their way of life requires of them, and they get tired of active
business as life goes on, and wish to be at ease. So they look to
their last years as a time of retirement, in which they may _both_
enjoy themselves _and_ prepare for heaven. And thus they satisfy both
their conscience and their love of the world. At present religion is
irksome to them; but then, as they hope, duty and pleasure will go
together. Now, putting aside all other mistakes which such a frame of
mind evidences, let it be observed, that if they are at present _not_
serving God with all their hearts, but look forward to a time when they
shall do so, then it is plain that, when at length they _do_ put aside
worldly cares and turn to God, if ever they do, that time must
necessarily be a time of deep humiliation, if it is to be acceptable to
Him, not a comfortable retirement. Who ever heard of a pleasurable,
easy, joyous repentance? It is a contradiction in terms. These men,
if they do but reflect a moment, must confess that their present mode
of life, supposing it be not so strict as it should be, is heaping up
tears and groans for their last years, not enjoyment. The longer they
live as they do at present, not only the more unlikely is it that they
will repent at all; but even if they do, the more bitter, the more
painful must their repentance be. The only way to escape suffering for
sin hereafter is to suffer for it here. Sorrow here or misery
hereafter; they cannot escape one or the other.
Not for any worldly reason, then, not on any presumptuous or
unbelieving motive, does the Christian desire leisure and retirement
for his last years. Nay, he will be content to do without these
blessings, and the highest Christian of all is he whose heart is so
stayed on God, that he does not wish or need it; whose heart is so set
on things above, that things below as little excite, agitate, unsettle,
distress, and seduce him, as they stop the course of nature, as they
stop the sun and moon, or change summer and winter. Such were the
Apostles, who, as the heavenly bodies, went out "to all lands," full of
business, and yet full too of sweet harmony, even to the ends of the
earth. Their calling was heavenly, but their work was earthly; they
were in labour and trouble till the last; yet consider how calmly St.
Paul and St. Peter write in their last days. St. John, on the other
hand, was allowed in a great measure, to retire from the cares of his
pastoral charge, and such, I say, will be the natural wish of every
religious man, whether his ministry be spiritual or secular; but, not
in order to _begin_ to fix his mind on God, but merely because, though
he may contemplate God as truly and be as holy in heart in active
business as in quiet, still it is more becoming and suitable to meet
the stroke of death (if it be allowed us) silently, collectedly,
solemnly, than in a crowd and a tumult. And hence it is, among other
reasons, that we pray in the Litany to be delivered "from _sudden_
death."
On the whole, then, what I have said comes to this, that whereas Adam
was sentenced to labour as a punishment, Christ has by His coming
sanctified it as a means of grace and a sacrifice of thanksgiving, a
sacrifice cheerfully to be offered up to the Father in His name.
It is very easy to speak and teach this, difficult to do it; very
difficult to steer between the two evils,--to use this world as not
abusing it, to be active and diligent in this world's affairs, yet not
for this world's sake, but for God's sake. It requires the greater
effort for a minister of Christ to speak of it, for this reason;
because he is not called upon in the same sense in which others are to
practise the duty. He is not called, as his people are, to the
professions, the pursuits, and cares of this world; his work is
heavenly, and to it he gives himself wholly. It is a work which, we
trust, is not likely to carry him off from God; not only because it is
His work, but, what is a more sure reason, because commonly it gains no
great thanks from men. However, for this reason it is difficult for
Christian ministers to speak about your trial in this matter, my
brethren, because it is not theirs. We are tried by the command to
live out of the world, and you by the command to live in it.
May God give us grace in our several spheres and stations to do His
will and adorn His doctrine; that whether we eat and drink, or fast and
pray, labour with our hands or with our minds, journey about or remain
at rest, we may glorify Him who has purchased us with His own blood!
[1] Acts i. 11.
SERMON XII.
Vanity of Human Glory.
"_The world knoweth us not, because it knew Him not._"--1 John iii. 1
Of St. Simon and St. Jude, the Saints whom we this day commemorate,
little is known[1]. St. Jude, indeed, still lives in the Church in his
Catholic epistle; but of his history we only know that he was brother
to St. James the Less, and nearly related to our Lord and that, like
St. Peter, he had been a married man. Besides his name of Jude or
Judas, he is also called Thaddaeus and Lebbaeus in the Gospels. Of St.
Simon we only know that he was called the Canaanite, or Zealot, for the
words have the same meaning, belonging, before his conversion, to a
certain fierce sect, who, under the idea they were doing God service,
took upon themselves to execute the law upon offenders without legal
authority, and without formal accusation or trial. It is said that
both Apostles were at length martyred in the course of their efforts to
gather together God's elect into His fold.
Little is known of St. Simon and St. Jude; they laboured and they
taught in their generation; they were gifted with miraculous powers,
and by their preaching founded churches and saved souls; they travelled
into the East and West, till at last they were taken away from the
earth. Yet we know little of their history now. Although "honoured in
their generation, and the glory of their times," yet they "have no
memorial, but are perished as though they had never been[2]." St.
Jude's Epistle, indeed, is a standing monument, yet not of his doings,
but of his gifts. What he wrote leads us to conjecture indeed what he
was; but of his history, we know no more than of that of St. Simon.
And hence we draw an important lesson for ourselves, which, however
obvious, is continually forgotten by us in the actual business of life;
viz. to do our duty without aiming at the world's praise. Mankind
knows nothing of St. Simon's and St. Jude's deeds and sufferings,
though these were great; yet there is One who "knows their works, and
labour, and patience, . . . and how they bore . . . and for His Name's
sake laboured, and fainted not[3]." Their deeds are blotted out from
history, but not from the Lamb's book of life; for "blessed are they
who die in Him, . . . that they may rest from their labours; and their
works do follow them[4]."
On this great practical rule, viz. to do what we do heartily, as unto
the Lord, and not unto men, I shall now make some remarks; and in doing
so, I shall be pointing out a mode in which we may follow these blessed
Saints, whose lives at first sight seem to have left no pattern behind
them for our imitation.
In heathen times, when men understood that they had souls, yet did not
know what was the soul's true happiness, or how it was to be gained,
much was thought, and more talked, of what they called _glory, fame,
honour_. This was natural, as a little consideration will show. For
before men begin to exercise their minds, while they remain ignorant
and dull, the common pleasures of sense satisfy them--eating, drinking,
and making merry. They do not think of the morrow. They have no end
in view, and act on no plan. But when intelligence is awakened, and
they learn to feel, reflect, hope, plan, and exert themselves, then
mere animal indulgences are not enough for them, and they look about
for some higher pleasures, more lasting and more refined. This is the
real effect of that civilization which is so much extolled; it gives
men refined wishes, and sets them on gratifying them. An enlightened
age is one which feels the wants of human nature. Knowledge and mental
cultivation render men alive to the things around them, busy, and
restless; but they do no more than make men sensible of their wants;
they find no remedy for them; they bring no appropriate food to the
hunger they create: for it is religion alone can do this.