The Village Pulpit, Volume II. Trinity to Advent

In the same way good parents have good children, and these good children marry, and have also good offspring, and so the goodness of one pious and righteous pair goes on descending and spreading like a fertilizing river, bearing blessings to all who are near it. What an encouragement this is to you parents to lead God-fearing lives! What a warning to those of you who are careless! The belief of the ruler brought belief to his whole house. The salvation of Zacchaeus brought salvation to his whole house also. Righteousness may bring a blessing to your children, and children's children, for many generations.

LIX

THE PREACHER AND HIS HEARERS

22nd Sunday after Trinity.

S. Matthew xviii. 23.

"The kingdom of Heaven is likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants."

INTRODUCTION.—I have been a good deal abroad, over the Continent of Europe, and whenever I am in a little country inn, I make a point of going into the room where the men are smoking and drinking wine or beer, and hearing their opinions on the politics of the day, and of their country. Now, my experience tells me that in country taverns in France, and Germany, and Belgium, and Switzerland, and Austria, the main topic of discussion is—the Parsons. I have not been much about in this way in England, but I have an idea that it is pretty nearly the same here. What I have heard often said is this, "Nothing easier than to preach!" "Ah! they are always preaching at us, it is a pity that they do not preach to themselves." "Ah! if they would only practice what they preach, we would listen more readily."

SUBJECT.—To-day I am going to preach to the preacher, to myself, at least in the first part of my sermon, and you may sit and listen. After that, I will have a word with you. In to-day's Gospel we hear that the king will take account of his servants, that is, God will take account of all those who are His servants, first with those who are His special Ministers, the Clergy, and preachers of His Word, and secondly, of those who are the hearers.

I. Now, let me see what God expects of a preacher, and what I ought to be and to do. S. Paul says: "We preach Christ crucified." That is the first thing I am bound to do. I must remember to do that. Then, S. Luke says that Jesus was "mighty in word and deed," and as Christ has sent us even as He was sent by the Father, so must we preachers be mighty, as far as we can, both in word and deed, we must speak boldly and vigorously, and we must act in the same way, we must practice what we preach. That is a great deal expected of us. If we were only to preach up to the level of our own lives, it would be easier. But the preaching goes first; we must preach the highest virtue, and then try to live up to that. S. John the Baptist was set before us as an example of a preacher, and "he was a burning and a shining light." We preachers must give you doctrine which not only shines but also burns, we must not only enlighten your minds by teaching, but also burn your consciences. We must instruct the intellect, and warm and fire the heart. That is requiring a great deal of us. "He maketh his ministers a burning fire," says David, and S. Paul quotes his words approvingly. It is a pleasant thing to enlighten, but to burn is not so pleasant. Yet that is what we preachers are bound to do, we must not speak to you smooth things, but those things which will sting you and make you arise and cry out. Not only what you like, but a great deal that you do not like. That is what is demanded of a preacher.

Then again he must not "use the Word of God deceitfully," twisting it to enforce what is not God's truth, but his own fancy. We read that at the trial of Christ there were found two false witnesses who declared that Christ had said, "Destroy this temple, and in three days will I build it up." Now when we look at S. John's Gospel we find that He did say this. How, then, were they false witnesses? They were false witnesses because they gave His words a meaning He never intended them to have. He spoke of the temple of His body; they made His words apply to the temple of Jerusalem.

Moses desired that his preaching might be as the dew. "My doctrine shall drop as the rain, my speech shall distil as the dew, as the small rain upon the tender herb, and as the showers upon the grass" (Deut. xxxii. 2.) Very pleasant it would be to speak so that one's words came down like the dew, or even as the small rain on the tender grass. You would like that, and so would I. You would hold up your heads like the flowers, and drink the dewy doctrine in. But stay! "As the showers upon the grass" as well, says Moses. It will not do for the preacher to speak only gently; his words must come pattering about your heads like a driving April shower, when you will shrink from the rain and hide to get out of the way. The preacher must pour out on you a good strong shower of hard words.

But that is not all. He must use the Word of the Lord as a sword. "The Word of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than a two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and of spirit, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." How will the hearers like that? The preacher must not ask that, he must use the Word as it is given him, whether his hearers like it or whether they do not.

There was at one time at Coimbra two famous preachers, and all the town ran to hear them; but some thought A. was the best preacher, and some thought that B. was the best. It was discussed among the professors of the University, and then it was found that they were divided—some liked A., and others preferred B.; then an old professor spoke, "I will tell you what I think. I have heard them both, and have formed my opinion. When I have listened to a sermon by A., I come away highly pleased with the preacher; when I come away from a sermon by B., I am heartily disgusted with myself." Then you see which was the true preacher. A. sought his own glory and to show his talent, B. only considered the souls of those he was speaking to.

And now I have said what a preacher ought to speak, and also how he ought to act. I do not think it is so easy a matter, if he be a faithful preacher.

II. Now then I turn to you, the hearers. Be ye not hearers of the Word, but doers. The word preached you will not profit unless you take hold of it.

One day Agilmund, King of the Lombards, was riding past a river. At that time it was customary for heathen mothers to drown those of their children whom they did not care to rear. He saw floating down the rapid stream a number of little crying babes in baskets in which they had been cast in. The king's heart was touched, and he went to the edge of the river where there was a pool and an eddy, and he knelt down and held out his spear to the children; then one of them extended his little hands and clasped hold of the spear, and clung to it, and the king very gently and carefully drew the spear to him with the little fellow holding tight to it. But all the other babes merely cried and sank into the water. Then he carried home the child in his arms, adopted him as his son, and made him his heir to the kingdom.

Now all the preacher can do for you, swimming down the great river of time, threatened with death, is to hold out the Word to you. He cannot save you. He cannot do more for you than that. You must lay hold and cling tight to the Word.

But why do I say the preacher? It is Jesus Christ Himself who really extends the Word to you, and He will save you if you hold fast to it, and bring you through the waters, and land you in His country, and exalt you to His kingdom.

LX

THE IMAGE OF SELF

23rd Sunday after Trinity.

S. Matthew xxii., 20.

"Whose is this image?"

INTRODUCTION.—Some people are very fond of contemplating their own excellencies, of admiring their good qualities, or their success in life; they will talk to you of what they have done, how they made this lucky hit, how they outwitted so-and-so, how they escaped such a danger by their foresight. But they are not fond of considering their imperfections, of lamenting their faults, of confessing their failures, their lost opportunities, their neglected duties, their grave transgressions. No, no! they do not see them, they see only their own good qualities and none of their blemishes, they extol their successes, and hold their tongues over their failures.

SUBJECT.—But it would be well for us to contemplate ourselves as we really are, and see ourselves in the light in which we are seen by God, for the Apostle says: "If we would judge ourselves, we shall not be judged," that is, if we would only see ourselves with all our defects, and repent our faults here, and judge ourselves and go and amend, then we should escape the judgment hereafter.

I. King David says, in the 51st Psalm, "I acknowledge my faults, and my sin is ever before me." Now, think of this! If any man had occasion to boast it was King David. He had been a poor sheep-boy attending the flocks of his father, a farmer at Bethlehem, and he was taken from the sheepfolds and exalted to be king. What an exaltation for him from a humble origin to the highest place! He might well look back on that with exultation; but no, a shadow steps between and clouds the view, "My sin is ever before me."

I daresay his palace walls were hung with tapestry, or painted in colours with pictures representing his deeds. There he was shewn fighting the bear, there taking the lamb from the lion's mouth, and smiting him. There he was pictured with his sling going against the giant Goliath. There he was represented standing over the fallen Philistine and hewing off his head. Look! another picture! his marriage with Michal, the daughter of King Saul. "Whose is this image?" It is that of the conqueror over Amalek. "Whose is this image?" It is David crowned king of Judah in Hebron. And here is a goodly picture; of whom is it? This is David anointed King over all Israel. There is another! David defeating the Philistines in the battle under the mulberry trees. There is one more! "Whose is this image?" It is that of David bringing the ark from Kirjath-jearim, and playing his harp and dancing before it. What a goodly array of pictures! All—all about the glories and successes of David. David paces idly through the halls, he sees the tapestries and paintings, but he regards them not, "My sin is ever before me." He sees only one picture, which is not upon the wall, which the flattering painter has omitted, his guilt with Bathsheba.

He goes to war in his armour, and takes the city of Rabbah. He carries off the crown of the king and puts it on his own head. The spoil of the city is great. In the turmoil of battle, in the flush of victory, "My sin is ever before me."

He flees before his enemies, before his rebellious son, and is in hiding in the wilderness with a few faithful friends, and then there rises up before him the remembrance of his great transgression, and weighs down his heart. "My sin is ever before me."

In joy, in sorrow, in prosperity and in distress it is always the same. "Whose is this image?" It is that of a great king, a mighty warrior, a sweet poet,—"No, no!" says David, "It is the image of a grievous sinner. My sin is ever before me. Let no man call me a good king, I gave over the innocent Uriah to the sword, and took from him his beloved wife. Let no man call me a just man, I divided the land of Mephibosheth with his false, lying slave Ziba, because it went against my pride to go back from what I had said. Let no man call me merciful, when I tortured the Ammonites cruelly, putting them under saws, and under harrows and axes of iron, and made them pass through the brickkiln. Let no man speak of me as a conqueror, when I was miserably conquered by my wicked passions."

My brethren! I wish that you would see yourselves in the way in which David did. I wish that instead of turning away your eyes from those pictures in your life which do you no honour, you would look at them with shame. I wish that instead of boasting yourselves as the image of all perfections, you would see yourselves as sinners.

II. There was a painter called Bonamico, who was engaged by Cardinal Aretino to paint a series of pictures in his chapel. He began with a beautiful fresco of Jesus Christ. A day or two afterwards, when he came to his work in the morning, he found his picture smeared all over with dabs of colour, red, and black, and blue, and yellow, and utterly defaced and spoiled. The painter was so angry that he refused to go on with his work till the culprit was found. A watch was set, and then it was discovered who had done it. When the painter had left the chapel, a pet ape of Aretino's came in, and having during the day seen the artist at work, he took up brush and colours, and began, in mischief or in imitation, to daub over what the painter had executed.

"Whose is this image?" You were made in the image of God, and redeemed by Christ. Whose is the image? You are expected to grow to the stature of the fulness of Christ, to be like Christ, but alas! the Devil, or your evil passions, deface the image, and obliterate the likeness. Can I see anything like Christ in you? Where are the traces of the divine image? I know what Christ is. "I am meek and lowly of heart." Where is your meekness? Some ape has daubed self-conceit over it, and I see nothing else but his bold colours. "He shall not strive nor cry, neither shall any man hear his voice in the street." Where is this quietness and unobtrusiveness in you? Do I not hear angry words and quarrelling? Some ape has daubed out this feature of the Saviour. "I am come not to do mine own will, but the will of Him that sent Me." Where is this readiness to submit to the will of God? Do I not see an eager following of your own wills? Surely also this characteristic of the Son of God is effaced.

CONCLUSION.—My brethren, one chief reason why we should see ourselves as we really are is, that we might be able by penitence to wipe out the ugly smears that deface the divine image, and that we might go on to perfection, becoming daily more like unto Him who is our pattern, so that at the Last Day, when we wake up, it will be with the likeness complete, for "we shall be like Him."

LXI

DREAD OF RIDICULE

24th Sunday after Trinity.

S. Matt. ix. 24.

"And they laughed Him to scorn."

INTRODUCTION.—"All that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution" (2 Tim. iii. 12.) This is what S. Paul says. This is what everyone of you must make up your mind to, if you intend to live godly lives, and, moreover, to live in Christ. Do you know what that meant to the early Christians? It meant that if they were going to be firm in their faith, live up to their profession, and eschew evil, they should be dragged before governors, and hung on what was called the "little horse," and their flesh torn with redhot pincers. It meant that they should be scourged to death, or that they should be roasted alive over slow fires, or that they should be gored in the amphitheatre by a bull, or torn to pieces by a lion, or that they should have their skin taken off, or that their heads should be struck off, or that they should be crucified. So when they were baptized and professed the Creed, and were signed with the cross, they knew that they were enlisted to suffer persecution if they acted up to their profession, and were worthy of the cross on their brows.

But this is not the sort of persecution you will be subjected to. The time of such cruel torture is over. The world has become Christian in name, but in heart it is pagan still.

"All that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution." S. Paul does not limit this to his day. It is not only all in the first century, but all in the nineteenth century as well. Only this is altered—the mode of persecution.

SUBJECT.—The persecution you will be subjected to, if you live godly in Jesus Christ is—Ridicule. No one will make you suffer in the body. No pincers and knives will be brought against you,—only Tongues.

I. Noah was ordered by God to build an ark on dry ground. Imagine the ridicule he met with! How the people would flock out of an evening, to see how he was getting on. What jibes! How he was tormented with questions, When was the great boat to be launched? How was he to bring the sea up to it? Was he with his three sons to put their shoulders to it, and push it down to the seashore? But Noah did not heed them, he went on with his building. It was very unpleasant to bear. It made him very red with shame and annoyance sometimes. But he did not give up. If he had done so, he would have been drowned. And one day the flood came. The fountains of the great deep were broken up, and the windows of heaven opened, and then the water overflowed the land. Then!—how was it with those men and women who had made fun of Noah? On whose side was the laugh now?

The Israelites were ordered by God to camp against Jericho. They were to march round the city once a day, with the priests going before, blowing their trumpets; this was to be done six days in succession, but on the seventh day they were to march seven times round the city, with the priests leading the way, blowing the rams' horns. The first day the inhabitants of Jericho rushed to their walls, and watched, and wondered. The second day they saw the same procession go round the town. It had ended in nothing on Sunday, so they laughed and pointed at them. What a ludicrous sight! All those men armed with swords and spears, who do not use them, those priests blowing the horns as to encourage the Israelites to battle, and not one rushing forward to scale the walls. The third day all the women and children were on the walls, marching round and mimicking them, blowing toy trumpets. What jokes! What jeers shouted from the walls! So on to the Friday. On the Sabbath the people got rather tired of this same scene. It was growing monotonous; so they did not come in such numbers. However, after the Israelites had marched round once, they began to march round a second time. Here was something new! Something still more nonsensical; and the people of Jericho came out on their walls again to flout them, and pass their jokes. When the Israelites had been round twice, they started to go round a third time, then a fourth, then a fifth, then a sixth. The mocking grew more excessive, the ridicule more keen. But, when the circuit of the city was made the seventh time, then, the walls of the city fell down, and the Israelites rushed in over the ruins, and killed all they came across. On whose side was the laugh then?

II. As I told you at the beginning of my sermon, if you will live godly in Christ Jesus, you must expect persecution, and the only sort of persecution you will get is Ridicule.

Therefore, if you will live godly in Christ Jesus, you must be prepared to be taunted, and made fun of, and teased. The tongues will wag and say all sort of hard things about you; You are a hypocrite, or you are going too far, or you are a fine person to set up to be a saint! but be of good cheer, do not mind the laughter, it is only for a while, and then the tables will be turned, and the laugh will be on your side.

It is very unpleasant to be made a butt for ridicule. Of course it is, but it is not so unpleasant as to have your flesh torn off with redhot pincers. The early Christians who would live godly in Christ Jesus had to expect that.

It is very galling to have bitter things said of you, often unjust and untrue, only because you have begun to serve God, and lead a better life. Of course it is, but it is not so bitter to bear as a cruel death, and that is what the early Christians had to expect if they would live godly in Christ Jesus.

Then again. As the Master was used, so the servant must expect to be treated. Jesus Christ had not only to endure the cruelty of wicked men, but their ridicule as well, "They laughed Him to scorn."

CONCLUSION.—Pluck up a little courage, my brethren, and do not be such cowards. If you lack courage, ask of God, and He will give it you. The Spirit of Fortitude is one of the gifts of the Holy Ghost. He gave it to the martyrs to strengthen them under torment, and they were able to endure and not forsake their Lord. Then surely He will give to you that measure of fortitude which will enable you to stand up against Ridicule.

LXII

WHAT LASTS, AND WHAT PASSES AWAY

25th Sunday after Trinity.

S. Matthew xxiv., 35.

"Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My word shall not pass away."

INTRODUCTION.—Yes! all will pass away! This beautiful world and all that is on it. Our houses, our churches, our cities, will crumble away; the very earth with its mountains and rivers, and plains, and seas, will pass away. The stars will fall from heaven, the sun will have exhausted its fires, the moon will sink into night. But the words of Christ will last.

SUBJECT.—Incessant is the change. Ever are things present passing away, but there is still something that remains. Things pass in their present fashion, but in substance remain.

I. S. Paul, in his 1st Epistle to the Corinthians, says (vii. 31): "The fashion of this world passeth away." It is as though this world were a theatre, on which pass many scenes. The curtain rises, and we see first Eden, all beautiful; there is no sin, no death; how lovely is the world in its maiden freshness and innocence, the flowers are blooming, and the birds are singing, and Adam and Eve stand surrounded by the beasts, which fawn on them, and fear them not. O that this lovely scene might remain! But no! "The fashion of this world passeth away."

Another scene. The Angel armed with the flaming sword drives our parents forth, the earth brings forth thorns and briars. Man slays the beasts to provide him with food and clothing. The earth is full of violence, Cain raises his hand against Abel. All flesh is corrupt before God. "The fashion of this world passeth away."

The flood has purified earth, but now men are scattered through the confusion of tongues, and go over all the world colonising, cutting down trees, planting corn, hunting wild beasts, pasturing cattle, and having flocks of sheep. "The fashion of this world passeth away."

Great empires arise, the Chaldean or Assyrian, the Persian, the Greek, these three. Do they last? "The fashion of this world passeth away." A fourth arises; the mighty Roman Empire, extending over the whole known world. The Roman poet wrote of it in the name of his false god, Jupiter, "I put no bounds to this empire, neither of space nor of time, I give it a kingdom without end." Was it so? We find scattered almost everywhere in the old world where we travel traces of this mighty empire, its roads, its castles, its palaces, its coins, but it is gone, gone utterly away, swept away by the hordes of Gothic barbarians. "The fashion of this world passeth away."

If we look back at the past times of our own country, what changes do we see! the fashion ever changing, the fashion of government, the fashion of religion, the fashion of dress, the fashion of architecture, all is change, change, and change.

Have you ever seen fireworks? Have you seen the rockets rush up into the air, casting a golden light, pouring forth sparks, and then bursting, this one into a silvery globe of light, that one into a thousand stars, crimson, blue, green, yellow, that again into sparks of curling fire-dust? What became of them? Down they fall, and all that remains is a stick and a bit of smouldering brown paper. The fashion has wondrously changed. Are not these rockets figures of the life of man? Up we rush in the eagerness of youth, and cast a light about us, up, up, growing brighter, throwing out our stars and globes of light, and then, "the fashion changeth," and we come down and are laid in our graves, a little ash. Here is the man who was full of wealth and honour, how he blazed as a sun, how he scattered his gold. "The fashion changeth." He is now a crumbling bit of clay.

Here is the man who made such a noise in the parish, such a boaster, so quarrelsome, so litigious, no one could come near him. "The fashion changeth." He lies still as a mouse now, and can resent no injury done to his dust.

Here is the active housewife, whose hand was always busily employed sewing, darning, scouring, never idle for one minute, keeping her house clean, and her children tidy. "The fashion changeth." She can stir no hand, can think for no one any more.