Sermons: Selected from the Papers of the Late Rev. Clement Bailhache

In conclusion, how is this nonconformity to the world, in the spirit of a grateful consecration to God, to be attained? “Be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God.” This is the great desideratum – the great necessity. The primary change must take place in the mind – not in its nature, but in the kind and order of its life. It must be “renewed” in its bias, in its inclinations, in its aspirations, so that it may be able to understand and appreciate the Divine will, and to address itself to the order of service which the Father of mercies shall accept.

It may be said, “What do we know of the spiritual world? And how can we be conformed to a world of which we know nothing?” The answer is, that our very Christianity supposes the change which sets this objection aside. Our love to this present world can only be subdued by its being superseded by another, or subordinated to another. Our love to Christ is the great secret of our attachment to heaven and to heavenly things. Given a soul under the influence of love to God, and loyalty to God must follow.

In order to this, however, there must be self-knowledge. We must see our “differences.” There must be the study of the character of Christ. There must also be earnest prayer for, and trust in, the help of the Holy Spirit. The work before us is more than an occasional outburst of religious sentiment; more than spasmodic, self-denying charity under the influence of suddenly awakened emotion; more than scrupulosity about small matters of pleasure or pursuit. It is a life; and as such it has spontaneity, freedom, and blessedness. In many an instance it attains wonderful maturity on earth; it is perfected in heaven.

Is this life ours? Oh, accept the one and only Saviour – exclusive in His claims, yet offering His mercy to all. You are conscious of sin, and this makes you feel (if you reflect) your need of salvation. Take it from Him. All He asks is that you should turn from the sin that made Him bleed, and trust the love which for you was stronger than death. Strait as is the gate through which you must enter into “life,” that life is in itself one of holy freedom and holy joy. The “gate” opens into broad fields of exhaustless treasure. Whoever may represent the Christian life as monotonous and poor, we say it is not so. It is quietness of heart, loftiness of feeling, sweet submission, trust, loyalty to the highest, aspiration after the best, the abnegation of self in blessing others and in glorifying the God and Father of all; such is the life to which the Christian is called. We challenge the world to produce a single case of a Christian regretting his consecration, or confessing that he made a sorry exchange, when he left the world’s delusive hopes for pardon, peace, the Father’s smile, the way of holiness, and the assurance of heaven. The wholly consecrated Christian is the wholly happy one.

Fling wide the portals of your heart;Make it a temple set apartFrom earthly use, for heaven’s employ,Adorn’d with prayer and love and joy:So shall your sovereign enter in,And new and nobler life begin.Redeemer, come! I open wideMy heart to Thee; here, Lord, abide!Let me Thine inner presence feel,Thy grace and love in me reveal;Thy Holy Spirit guide me on,Until the glorious crown be won!

VIII.

CHRISTIANITY IN OUR DAILY LIFE

“Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus.” – Colossians iii. 17.

One of the most striking characteristics of the Christian religion is what I may term its universality. I mean that its obligations and privileges cover the whole ground of human life – present and to come. This fact, which is abundantly illustrated and enforced in the New Testament, is also clearly hinted at in the Old. It seems to have been present to the Psalmist’s mind in the parallel he draws in the nineteenth Psalm between the sun, whose going forth is from the end of heaven, whose circuit is unto the ends of it, and from whose heat nothing is hid; and “the law of the Lord” which, in its perfectness, comes into satisfying contact with all human need. It converts the soul, turning it towards itself, the source of light. It makes wise the simple, who unreservedly yield to its influence. It rejoices the heart, anxious to be right, as it is itself perfect. It enlightens the eyes with a purity of truth which has no admixture of error. It cleanses from secret faults. It keeps back the servant of the Lord from presumptuous sins.

This universality gives to Christianity its grand ideal character. It teaches that, morally considered, sin is the condition of all men; that condemnation is the result of sin to all men; and that the love of the Father, the sacrifice of the Son, and the regenerating and sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit have direct bearings on the spiritual wants of all men. Christianity meets an absolute ruin by an absolute restoration; so that, as there is nothing in man and in his relations to the universe which sin has not defiled and degraded, so there is nothing in man and in his relations to the universe which Christianity is not designed and destined to uplift and to purify.

This element of universality comes out very strikingly in the chapter before us. The apostle is describing the spiritual life. In its essence, it is an abandonment of the “old” – “putting off the old man,” as a dress thrown completely aside; and an adoption of the new – “putting on the new man” – the prodigal’s rags exchanged for the best robe. In its range, it is universal —within, setting the affections on heavenly things; without, renouncing the deeds of the life of sin, and manifesting the virtues of the life of holiness. It is universal also in its application – involving personal purity, and giving its own tone and spirit to all the relationships, to all the worship, and to all the work, of life. The whole is summed up in the remarkable words of the text: “And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus.” We are the subjects of a Providence and a Grace inclusive of every moment and every incident. God, on His part, demands of us a consecration that shall leave nothing (however unimportant, relatively considered) unhallowed – not a single affection, no domestic or social relationship, nothing in speech, nothing in conduct. It is the same truth that the same apostle elsewhere expresses: “Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.”

I want to offer to your attention at this time a single application of this principle – its application to the common, secular work of life.

At first sight, it seems strange that by far the greater part of human life should be appointed by God to be spent in worldly toil. This strangeness is augmented in proportion as our aim is towards a life distinctively and completely Christian. Considering the supreme importance of the spiritual and the eternal; considering, too, the uncertain duration of our life, notwithstanding the fact that it involves the immeasurable interests of eternity; and considering, still further, the manifold obstacles in the way of a man’s salvation – we might have supposed that God’s providential arrangements would have secured to us far more freedom from worldly labour and care than we enjoy. It would not have been surprising if He had said to us: “Retire much; rest much – that you may have much time for thought and prayer.” But it is not so. Six days for work; one day for rest and worship! Certain exceptions apart, toil is, for most men, the hard and unremitting condition of life; often indeed – especially in our cities, and in “hard times” like the present – toil that demands the straining of every nerve, the putting forth to the utmost of every energy, and the employment of every moment. The best of us come to our Sabbaths like wrestlers who sit and rest for a while between the conflict past and the conflict to come. This is the experience of most of us: business men who have to fight in the great competitions of trade; working men to strive for a sufficiency of bread and raiment for themselves and their families; fathers and mothers, masters and servants who have to meet the manifold duties and worries of domestic life. We come to our Sabbath-rest, probably with the feeling that, on the whole, during the week, we have lost rather than gained in relation to our spiritual interests. Are we right in the feeling? Must our daily work be a hindrance to us? Is it impossible for us so to engage in it as to find it spiritually helpful? The text before us settles the point. It presents to us an obligation that is inclusive of every word and deed, and which must consequently include the common toil of every day. It is an apostolic injunction, and the injunction presupposes its own practicability. “Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus.”

That secular work is not necessarily spiritually helpful we know too well. Idleness is always disastrous; but there is much worldly work which is more disastrous still. Tens of thousands pursue it daily in utter godlessness, and train themselves by it to intense selfishness and materialism. They “mind earthly things,” and “glory in their shame.” Even many professing Christians manifest an alarming craving for mere worldly enjoyment; and their luxuries tax them a hundred-fold more than their benevolence. But it need not be so. Secular work can be made the means of spiritual education, and the sphere for the development of piety.

The first great requisite is conversion. No obligation, indeed, rests upon Christians which does not rest upon all men, whether they be Christians or not. A perfect Christian is simply man as he ought to be. But in the unchristian man the disposition is wanting – he lives to himself. The Christian, on the contrary, has entered into a new life. By the Holy Spirit’s grace, he has repented of sin; he is forgiven, accepted, justified, accepted into Divine sonship; he is under the influence of new principles – is essentially in a new world – acknowledges a holy law, which he now loves for its own sake – is consciously under the eye of a good Master, who is his Saviour as well as his Lord – and is thus moved by a living impulse of gratitude to Him who has died for him, and whose he is in life and death. Out of this there comes the conviction that the one object of life should be spiritual growth. Commonly men think of life as having two aims; or rather they try to solve the problem of living two lives – the one present, the other future; the one worldly, the other religious; the one affecting the body with its transitory interests, the other affecting the soul with its eternal interests. Hence the wide divorce between “the secular” and “the sacred,” work and worship, holy days and common days. The more enlightened Christian knows that this is a radical mistake. The world, time, matter, the body – all have their relations and their obligations, their spheres and their claims; but they do not stand isolated from the spiritual and the unseen. Separate, they are godless. They are all intended to serve as instruments of moral discipline – to supply lessons in the school of life; – all tending, under God, to the great result. Failures they are, if regarded as ends in themselves; blessed they are in proportion as they are religiously used as means. Apart from the conviction that this should be our one great aim, it seems impossible to hope that the spiritual will predominate over the worldly; the six days’ secular toil must be destructive of the day’s spiritual culture. The “prosperous” will degrade life into a mere pursuit of earthly wealth with its associated advantages, whilst the rest will simply continue the hard struggle for daily bread – “the bread that perisheth.”

The life of millions around us seems, religiously considered, to be an absolute blank. Mix with them, observe them, and you will be convinced of this. It is one of the sources of deepest sadness to a Christian to note the extent to which godlessness prevails in all ranks of society. Even amongst Christians themselves there are terrible invasions of the spirit of worldliness. Let us seek, by the help of God, the convictions by which this evil may be checked. The soul is greater than the body; eternity is greater than time. The material and the temporal sink into insignificance in contrast with the spiritual and the eternal. Let the lower interests serve the higher.

I have already referred to the universality of the claims which Christianity makes upon us. Its aim is not to induce us to assume a certain character merely at certain specified times and in certain specified places, and to be content with that. On the contrary, its purpose is to induce us to do everything in one specified spirit, which shall shape, give sanctity and consecration to, the whole. Hence, it is never represented as working first on the outward habits of men, but on their hearts. It does not cleanse the outside of the cup or platter, leaving corruption within; but it first endeavours to establish purity within, and to give the purity which is within a force by which it shall work outwardly. The outward acts of the life are but the embodiments of the heart and will. Thus, whether we be scholars, or merchants, or preachers, or mechanics, or servants, we are to carry a soul, sanctified and governed by Christ, into all our occupations, even the commonest. Whether we pray or work, whether we be in the church or the shop, we are to be under the control of the one Christian spirit.

Undoubtedly, there are some occupations in which it is difficult for Christians to engage, and some which they ought never to touch. But apart from these, the work of life is not an evil. There is no need to retire away from it into solitude as the only suitable sphere for the development of piety. A wise Christian looks upon it as a mode of spiritual culture. It depends upon the man himself, upon the guiding principle of his life, as to whether work shall degrade or raise him.

Consider two or three points in illustration and proof of the truth I am endeavouring to enforce.

I. Secular work requires and cultivates certain active forces of character which are also required in the culture of the spiritual life, such, for example, as clearness and definiteness of aim: so that there shall be no working in the dark, or in ignorance of the special end to be attained. “This one thing I do.” Perseverance, so that the end, once clearly ascertained and decided on, shall be steadily and unflinchingly pursued, until it is accomplished. Prudence and foresight, so that there shall be a wise adaptation of means. Energy, so that every opportunity and every appliance shall be used to the utmost. Courage, so that no difficulties shall dismay. All these forces acquire strength in the earthly sphere, which is a clear gain, and which may be brought to use in the spiritual. We, as Christians, have an end to pursue which must be clearly apprehended; we must not run uncertainly, or as one that beateth the air; we must persevere, running with patience the race that is set before us; our zeal must not be without knowledge; what our hands find to do we must do with our might; and we must be in nothing terrified by our adversaries. So far from being hindered in all this by the discipline of our common life, experience proves that indolence in secular business has a paralysing effect on spiritual exertion. In spiritual exertion man uses the same power as in secular, only the field of operation is different. But inasmuch as the same powers are wanted for both, the one may be a true auxiliary to the other.

II. The same line of remark will apply to the passive forces of character. They are wanted equally in the secular and the spiritual, and their cultivation in the one prepares them for use in the other. For example: Submission. Many a position in life is irksome and uncongenial; but nevertheless it should be accepted as God’s providential arrangement on our behalf. “It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps.” —Patience. Many a result has to be long worked for and long waited for, often with many disappointments and reverses. —Contentment. The worry of life, not its work, is that which burdens and kills. Looking on our position as one which God has appointed, we take it calmly as that which is best for us. —Trust. We have simply to rely on God for everything, remembering that our powers, opportunities, and results are all under His wise and loving control. “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,” and sufficient also is the grace to bear it. Our hearts are wearied and worn only as we insist on carrying heavier burdens than God assigns to us. How clear it is that all these passive forces are needed in our secular work, if it is to be done well! But it is equally clear that they are needed just as much in our spiritual life. In it their growth is an essential element; and they have their bearing specially on Christian work – work done for the spread of religion in the world.

III. Secular work offers important opportunities for spiritual usefulness. Our most effective preaching is often that of our unconscious influence. And let us remember that no amount of formal sanctity can prevail against the inconsistencies of our common days. Moreover, our daily, secular duties bring us into contact with men in ways which are least open to suspicion. Add to this, that they put into our hands, in a greater or lesser degree, resources by which we can materially help the cause of Christ, and so become, in heart, in interest, in devotedness, more and more closely identified with that cause. We can “honour the Lord with our substance, and with the first-fruits of all our increase,” and so find that “it is more blessed to give than to receive.”

The practical problem that God gives to every one of us to solve, is to get perfected in our hearts the feeling that we are doing His will in the common details of our ordinary vocation as well as in acts more ostensibly “religious.” The conclusion is irresistible; the thing may be done – but how? It cannot be done without habitual self-examination; it cannot be done without prayer; it cannot be done without reliance on the help of the Holy Spirit.

Let us be thankful to God for putting within our reach the high honour of glorifying Him, for introducing us to a life so pure in its springs, for His kindly help in every step of its progress, and for the hope that it will one day reach its happy consummation.

IX.

UNCONSCIOUS INFLUENCE

“I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment. For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned.” – Matthew xii. 36, 37.

This is a startling, terrifying text; one of many which tempt men to limitations and compromises of their meaning. Some persons would not hesitate to accuse it of extravagance, and even devout Christians sometimes pause and ask whether it is to be taken in its absolute literalness. “Every idle word.” Is not this the kind of thing which is least amenable to a vigorous judgment? Is not the “idle,” the vain, the worthless, at the worst, thereby negative? Christ says, No. Speech is a gift to be put to sanctified uses; and the non-use as well as the abuse of every gift is sinful. This utterance of our Divine Master, to be vindicated, needs only to be understood. Underlying it are vital moral considerations which should be devoutly studied.

There are many ways in which a man can manifest himself. By his thought, he is always known to God and to his own heart, but not to his fellow men. To reveal himself to them, his thought must somehow find expression. His actions are mostly intentional and deliberate; but they are liable to be prompted, inspired, checked, or controlled by circumstances. So, too, may be his speech; but there is a spontaneousness, a freedom, in that, which belongs to no other manifestation of the man’s inward self. Thus it is by his words that he is best judged. The largest part of our practical life is resolvable into speech.

Christianity itself is amenable to this law. Think of the streams of holy speech which have been flowing through the world for ages, and of the life they have conveyed to thirsty souls. Think of these streams as they are flowing to-day in tens of thousands of Christian congregations, and in innumerable Sabbath schools. Compare their influence with that of the dark utterances of heathenism, and the disturbing teachings of unbelief. Think of the countless rills of Christian speech which are flowing to-day from the lips of those who love the Saviour, and who are endeavouring to make Him known in the home, in the sick-chamber, in the prison-house, and in their various intercourse with those around them. Compare their influence with that of the idle, thoughtless, impious, profane talk of the millions who are living without God; and then say whether Christianity may or may not be judged by its words! Lord Jesus, Thou needest no justification from such imperfect creatures as we are; but if Thou didst, it would be enough for us to recall the gracious words that proceeded out of thine own mouth, and then to challenge the wisdom of the ages, saying, “Never man spake like this man!”

The general drift of the passage before us is this, that man speaks as he is, and is as he speaks, and that, therefore, by his words he shall be judged. His words are signs which reveal his character. Whilst, at the last, he will be judged by his character, single words and unnoticed deeds will, if need be, be adduced as proofs of inner and underlying principles. Of course it is not meant that words will be the only tests; but our Lord’s language shows that they form a far more important element of proof than is commonly supposed. In this light, no manifestation of character is insignificant. Everything tells. Words, looks, even gestures, have their meaning. Often to men’s eyes, and always to God’s (though He does not need them) they are as straws on the stream, showing the course of the current.

These general reflections supply the basis of the further reflections I have to offer. My purpose is twofold: first, to show that, for good or ill, the life of every one of us is an incessant exercise of influence; and secondly, to deduce from this fact some important lessons.

I. Now, generally, when men speak of exerting influence, the thought present to their minds is of something exceptional, attractive, commanding, or formal. Thus, such a phrase as “a person of influence” is understood to denote a man who stands in a position of special advantage, either (for instance) of wealth, or of mental power, or of social importance. Hence the notion of influence is narrowed, and ultimately it becomes false. It does so in two ways: partly by restricting influence to a few, and then by confining it among these few to certain peculiarities of character or of circumstance. The truth is that influence is always going forth from every man, and from everything in man.

There are two ways in which men act upon one another. They do so either directly, deliberately, and intentionally, or, otherwise, indirectly and unconsciously. Thus, if I want to make men around me generous, I may write, preach, speak, use arguments, multiply incentives, enforce appeals. In all this I am conscious that I have a purpose to accomplish, and in everything I say I keep that purpose in view. If I succeed, I do so through the intentional influence I have put into operation. I have tried to realise a definite result, and I have not been disappointed. But I can teach generosity in another way. Obedient to the impulses of my own heart, I may relieve the need of some poor blind beggar on the road, who implores the passer-by to help him. This act may be noticed by a third person whom I did not know to be near, and it may so impress him as to open his heart and his hand to do the kindness he had not thought of doing. Now I had no such design with respect to him; for the time, I had nothing in view beyond meeting an appeal for help which came personally to myself. I was unconscious of the influence I exerted upon the person who followed my example, and yet I did for him as much as if I had set myself to develop an argument or to enforce a claim.