Anthology of 3,000+ Classic Sermons: Lightfoot, Joseph Barber (1828-1889)

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Anthology of 3,000+ Classic Sermons: Lightfoot, Joseph Barber (1828-1889)


Subjects in this Topic:

THE CONTEMPORARY PULPIT LIBRARY.

S E R M O N S- BY THE LATE RIGHT REV.

J. B. LIGHTFOOT, D.D., D.C.L.,



LORD BISHOP OF DURHAM.



www.archive.org/deatils/sermonsbishop00lighuof



NEW YORK:



THOMAS WHITTAKER,



2 AND 3, BIBLE HOUSE.



1890.







CONTENTS.*







PAGE



BETHEL i



THE CONSCIOUSNESS OF SIN HEAVEN S PATHWAY. . 17

THE HISTORY OF ISRAEL AN ARGUMENT IN FAVOUR OF



CHRISTIANITY 29



THE VISION OF GOD 43



THE HEAVENLY TEACHER f 55



CHRISTIANITY AND PAGANISM. I. . . . . 65



II. ....... 83



,, ,, ,, III 100



WOMAN AND THE GOSPEL . 116



PILATE 129



THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN 145



OUR CITIZENSHIP 157



AMBITION . . . . . . . . . 170



* These sermons are printed from reporter* s notes.







Sermons







BY THE LATE



RIGHT REV. J. B. LIGHTFOOT, D.D., D.C.L.,



LORD BISHOP OF DURHAM.







BETHEL.*



"Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not." GEN.

xxviii. 1 6.



AN unobtrusive, unimpressive scene, almost in

distinguishable, even to the qurious eye of the

archaeologist, "in the maze of undistinguished

hills which encompass it " with nothing to

attract the eye, and nothing to fire the imagina

tion ; large slabs of bare rock traversed by a

well-worn thoroughfare ; " no religio loci, no

awful shades, no lofty hills." So is the site of

Bethel described by the modern traveller. Yet

this was none other than the House of God ; this

was the very gate of heaven.



An unimpressive scene in itself, but appearing

still more commonplace, when contrasted with the

famous shrines of heathendom the rock fortress

of the Athene, or the pleasant groves of Daphne,

or the cloven peak of Parnassus, or the sea-girt



* Preached at Cambridge* Oct. 23rd, j88i.



I







2 The Contemporary Pulpit.



sanctuary of Delos. No beauty, no grandeur,

nothing of loveliness and nothing of awe, nothing

exceptional of any kind which can explain or

justify its selection. Was there not ground for

the wanderer s surprise on that memorable night ?

Why should this one spot be chosen to plant the

foot of the ladder which connected heaven and

earth ? Why in this bleak wilderness ? Why

amidst these bare rocks ? Why here of all places

in the world ? Yes, why here ?



The paradox of Bethel is the paradox of the

Gospel is the paradox of God s spiritual dis

pensations at all times. The Incarnation itself

was the supreme manifestation of this paradox.

The building up of the Church was the proper

sequel to the Incarnation.



Look at the accompaniments of the Incarnation.

Could any environment of circumstances well have

been imagined more incongruous, more alien to

this unique event in human history, this supreme

revelation of God s wisdom, and power, and

beneficence ? An obscure corner of the Roman

world an insignificant and clown-trodden race,

scorned and hated by the rest of mankind an

ox-stall for a nursery, and a carpenter s shop for a

school what is wanting to complete the paradox ?

Yes, there is still one feature to be added to

the picture the crowning incongruity of all the

felon s death on the cross. Said not the prophet







Bethel. 3



rightly, when he foretold that there should be

nothing lovely in His life and circumstances, as

men count loveliness ; "no form or comeliness ; "

" no beauty that we should desire him " ?



And the same paradox, which ruled the founda

tion of the Church, extended also to its building

up. The great statesmen, the powerful captains,

in the kingdom of God were fishermen and tent-

makers. Never was this characteristic incongruity

of the Gospel more signally manifested than in

the preaching of St. Paul at Athens. Have we

ever realized the force of that single word with

which the historian describes the impression left

on the Apostle s mind by this far-famed city ?

Gazing on the most sublime and beautiful crea

tions of Greek art, the masterpieces of Phidias

and Praxiteles, he has no eye for their beauty or

their sublimity. He pierces through the veil

of the material and transitory, and behind this

semblance of grace and glory the true nature of

things reveals itself. To him this chief centre of

human culture and intelligence, this



" Eye of Greece, mother of arts

And eloquence,"



appears only as KaeiSa)Xos, overrun with idols,

beset with phantoms which mislead, and vanities

which corrupt. Art and culture are God s own

gifts, legitimate embellishments of life, even of







4 The Contemporary Pulpit.



worship, which is the highest form of life. But

if culture aims at displacing religion, if art seeks

to dethrone God, why, then, in the highest

interests of humanity, be it our prayer that the

sword of the barbarian and the axe of the

iconoclast may descend once more, and sweep

them ruthlessly away. There was, at least, this

redeeming feature in ancient art, that it gave

expression to whatsoever sense of the Divine lay

buried in the heathen mind. But art and culture,

which studiously ignore God what can be said

for these ? In this one word KaeiSwXos lies the

germ of that fierce and protracted struggle of

Christianity with Paganism, which ended indeed

in a splendid victory, though not without in

flicting many a wound on humanity of which the

scars and seams still remain. Notwithstanding

the merciless scoffs of a Celsus and the biting

sarcasm of a Julian the Apostle s words were

verified in their literal truth. Strength was made

perfect in weakness. God chose the foolish

things of the world to confound the wise, aye,

and the uncomely things of the world to confound

the beautiful. The things which are not, brought

to nought the things which are.



So then in its accompaniments, not less than

in its main idea, this incident at Bethel is a type

of the Gospel of Christ. This exile, the repre

sentative of the Israel after the flesh, prefigures







Bethel. 5



a greater outcast and wanderer, the representative

of the Israel after the spirit, the representative of

the whole family of man. This ladder reared up

from earth to heaven, whereby angels ascend and

descend, what is it but the Incarnation of the

Eternal Word, wherein God is made man, and

man is taken up into God ? This it is which

establishes the title of Christianity as the absolute

and final religion of the world this indissoluble

union* of the human with the divine this one

only adequate response to the deepest religious

cravings of mankind. Hence the Church has

ever clung with a tenacity of grasp, which shallow

hearts could ill understand, to this central idea,

the indefeasible wedlock of heaven and earth

in the God-man. And to those whose sight is

purged by faith, to those who are gifted with

the eye of the Spirit, the vision of Bethel will

be vouchsafed with a far more exceeding glory :

Verily, verily, I say unto you, Hereafter ye

shall see heaven open and the angels of God

ascending and descending upon the Son of Man :"

on the Son of Man : yes, and on thyself too, O

man, for thou art one with this Son of Man, one

with the Father in Him.



"Gifted with the eye of the Spirit," I say; for

in vain the heavens are riven asunder, and the

glory streams forth, and all things are flooded

with light, if the capacity of vision be absent.







6 The Contemporary Pulpit.



Only the cold bare stones beneath, only the

midnight gloom overhead, only the dreary,

monotonous waste around, these and these alone

are visible otherwise. We have been saddened,

perhaps we have been disconcerted, as recently

we read the dreary epitaph which sums up the

creed of a brilliant man of science not long since

deceased a hopeless, soul-less, lifeless . creed, to

which his own very faculties and acquisitions

appear to us to give the lie. We have been

saddened justly ; but why should we be discon

certed ? God be thanked, the most absolute

childlike faith has not unfrequently been found

united with the highest scientific intellect. We

in this place have never yet lacked bright ex

amples of such a union, and God grant we never

may. But what right have we to expect it as

a matter of course ? What claim do the most

brilliant mathematical faculties, or the keenest

scholarly instincts, give to a man to speak with

authority on the things of the Spirit ? Are we

not told on authority before which we bow that

a special faculty is needed for this special know

ledge ; that " eye hath not seen and ear hath

not heard " ; that only the Spirit of God

the Spirit which He vouchsafes to His sons

knoweth the things of God? And does not all

analogy enforce the truth of this lesson ? One

man has a keenly sensitive musical ear, but he is







Bethel. 7



colour-blind. Another has a quick eye for the

faintest gradations of colour, but he cannot dis

tinguish one note of music from another. Does

the imperfect eye of the one know any haze of

uncertainty over the hues of the rainbow ; or the

obtuse ear of the other disparage the master

works of a Handel, or a Mozart, or a Beethoven ?

Here is a mathematician who sees in a sublime

creation of imaginative genius only a tissue of

unproven hypotheses ; and here is a poet, to whom

the plainest processes of algebra, and the simplest

problems in geometry, are mere barbarian gabble,

conveying no distinct impression to the brain, and

leaving no intelligible idea on the mind. Judge

no man in this matter. To his own master he

stands or falls. But judge yourselves. Yes, spare

no rigour and relax no vigilance when the judge

is the criminal also. Believe it, this spiritual

faculty is an infinitely subtle and delicate mecha

nism. You cannot trifle with it, cannot roughly

handle it, cannot neglect it and suffer it to rust

from disuse, without infinite peril to yourselves.

Nothing not the highest intellectual gains can

compensate you for its injury or its loss. The

private prayer mechanically repeated, then hurried

over, then intermitted, and at last dropped ; the

devotional reading found to be daily more irk

some, because suffered to be daily more listless ;

the valuable moral and spiritual discipline of the







The Contemporary Pulpit.



early morning chapel, gradually neglected; the

unobtrusive opportunities of witnessing for Christ

by deeds of kindness and words of wisdom suf

fered to slip by, these, and such as these, are

the unfailing indications of spiritual decline ; till

disuse is followed by paralysis, and paralysis ends

in death ; and you are left without God in the

world. And yet when again you young men

when again, in the years to come, can you hope

that the conditions of your life will be as favour

able to this spiritual self-discipline as they are

now ? Where else do you expect to find in the

same degree the opportunities for private medi

tation and retirement, the daily common prayer

and the frequent communions, the inspiring and

sanctifying friendships, the wholesome occupation

for the mind and the healthy recreations for the

body, every appliance and every aid which, if

you will employ them aright, neither disusing

them nor misusing them, will combine to build

up and to perfect the man of God ? Choose ye,

this day. To you, more especially, I appeal who

have recently commenced your residence here,

and to whom, therefore, with the changed con

ditions of life a heightened ideal of life also is

suggested. This is the momentous alternative.

Shall your life hereafter be typified by the barren

rocks and the monotonous waste, hard and dreary,

if nothing worse ; or shall it be illumined within







Bethel. 9



and around with the effulgence of God s own

presence, so that



" The earth and every common sight



To you shall seem

Apparelled in celestial light,



The glory and the freshness of a dream " ?



A dream ? nay, not a dream, but an everlasting

reality, eternal, as God s own being is eternal.



There are two ways of looking on the relations

between the things of this life and the things of

eternity. A false and a true. The false way

regards the one as the rejection of the other.

They are reciprocally exclusive. The avocations,

the interests, the amusements of daily life nature

and history, poetry and art these are so many

hindrances to the heavenly life. Every moment

given to work is a moment subtracted from prayer

thus the inward life becomes a constant reflec

tion upon the conditions of the outward. This

is the spirit which of old peopled the desert with

anchorites ; the spirit which in all ages, though

under divers forms, has made a religion of selfish

ness. This is the voice which cries, " Lo, here !

and lo, there ! " though all the while the kingdom

of heaven is within us, in the very midst of us.

The true conception is the reverse of all this. Its

ideal is not a separation, but an identification of

the two. It takes its stand on the old maxim







io The Contemporary Piilpit.



laborare est orare. It strives that its work shall

be prayer, and its prayer shall be work. Nature

and history to it are not the veil of God s

presence ; they are the investiture of God s glory.

And, therefore, to it is vouchsafed the vision of

grace, and comfort, and strength, as to the

patriarchs of old. The solitary wanderer along

the dreary thoroughfare of this life lays himself

down. He has nothing but the bare stones

beneath for a couch, and nothing but the mid

night sky overhead for a tent. He closes his

eyes for a moment ; and the whole place is

flooded with glory. Ah ! the Lord was in this

place, though he knew it not ; but he knows

it now knows it in the access of strength,

knows it in the promise of hope, knows it in

the celestial voice and the ineffable light. All

the common interests of life the associations, the

amusements, the cares, the hopes, the friendships,

the conflicts all are invested with a dignity

and an awe unsuspected before. Reverence is

henceforth the ruling spirit of his life. This

monotonous round of commonplace toils and

commonplace pleasures is none other than the

House of God. This barren, stony thoroughfare

of life is the very portal of heaven.



To read these hieroglyphics traced on nature,

on history, on the human soul to decipher this

handwriting of God wheresoever it appears, and







Bethel. 1 1



where does it not appear ? is the ultimate and

final study of man. All history is a parable of

God s dealings ; and we must learn the interpreta

tion of the parable. All nature is a sacrament of

God s being and attributes, and we must strive

to pierce through the outward sign to the inward

meaning. To realize God s presence, to hear

God s voice, to see God s visage, let this be

henceforth the aim and the discipline of our lives.

So at length we shall pass from Bethel to Peniel

from the palace courts to the presence chamber

itself. We shall see God face to face. It is a

vision of power, of majesty, of awe unspeakable ;

but it is a vision also of purification, of light, of

strength, of life. The blessing is won at length

by that long lonely wrestling under the midnight

sky. The fraud, the worldliness, the self-seeking

is thrown off like a slough. All is changed.

Old things have passed away. The supplanted

rises from the struggle, the supplanter rises no

more, but the Israel, the Prince, who has power

with God and with men. Shall not Moses

prayer then be our prayer, " Lord, I beseech

Thee, show me Thy glory " ?



" Show me Thy glory." Where else shall

this glory reveal itself if not in the studies of

this place ? These properties of numbers, these

selections of space, these phenomena of light,

of heat, of energy,, of life, of language, of thought,







12 The Contemporary Pulpit.



what are they ? Individual facts to be recorded,

arranged, tabulated, marshalled under several

heads, which we call laws, and having so called

them, with a strange self-complacency and con

tentment fold our hands, as if nothing more

were to be done, as if by the mere imposition of

a name we had crowned them absolute sovereigns

of the Universe ? Or are they manifestations

partial, indeed, and needing to be supplemented

of a power, a majesty, a wisdom, an order, a

beneficence, a finality, a oneness, a One, who is

shown to us as the Eternal Father in the reve

lation of the Eternal Son ? Can we afford to

look down from the serene heights of modern

science and culture on the untutored Indian,

who saw God s face in the shifting clouds, and

heard God s voice in the whistling winds ? Nay,

was there not a truth in this childish ignorance

which threatens to elude the grasp of our man

hood s wisdom ? Was it altogether a baseless

dream in those stoic Pantheists, who endowed

each several planet with an animating spirit of

its own ? altogether a wild fancy in those

Christian fathers assigning to each its particular

angel, who should whirl it through space and

hold it in its course ? Was it not rather a

Divine instinct feeling after a higher truth ?

Human life cannot rest satisfied with the science

of phenomena alone. It needs to supplement







Bethel. 13



science with poetry. And the true, the abso

lute, the final poetry is the recognition of God

the Creator and Governor, of God the all-

wise and all-powerful, of God the Father, the

Redeemer, the Sanctifier, of God the eternal

love. "Blessed are they who have eyes to

see," thus to them



" The meanest flower that blows can give

Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."



Thoughts of immortality, of wisdom, of light, of

love.



" Show me Thy Glory," where else again

shall His glory be seen, if not in those friend

ships which are the crowning gift of University

life ? This intimate communion of soul with soul,

this linking of heart with heart, is it merely a

matter of human convenience, of human preference,

or has it a Divine side also ? This love, this

devotion, this reliance of the weak on the strong,

this reverence for a nature purer, nobler, more

upright, more manly, more unselfish than your

own what is its meaning ? It is a precious,

unspeakably precious, gift of God, you will say

far beyond wealth, or fame, or popularity, or

ease, or any earthly boon of which you can con

ceive. Yes, but it is more than this. May we

not call it in some sense a sacrament, a sign

and a parable of your relation to your Lord ?







14 The Contemporary Pulpit.



You are awed no other word will express this

feeling you are awed with the honour done to

you by this friendship. You do not talk much

about it it is too sacred a thing but you do

feel it. You confess to yourself day and night

your own unworthiness. And yet, though you

strive to be worthy, you would not wish to feel

worthy. The very sense of undeservedness in

vests the gift with a bountifulness and a glory

which you would not forego. The fountains of

your thanksgiving would cease to flow freely if

you claimed it as a right ; and it is a joyful and

a pleasant thing to be thankful. Apply this ex

perience to the infinitely higher gift of Christ s

friendship, of Christ s sacrifice. Herein lies the

power of the Cross which men called and still

call weakness the power which awes, inspires,

energises, which elevates the heart and sanctifies

the life herein this feeling of boundless thanks

giving arises from this sense of absolute unde

servedness. For is it not true, that those will

love most to whom most is given and forgiven ?

So then this your friendship is found to be none

other than the House of God. The Lord is in

this place, and happy are ye if ye know it.



Once again ; look into your own soul, and

what do you find there ? Yes, ye yourselves

are the temple of the living God. He is there

there, whether you will or not. Through your







Bethel. 1 5



reason, through your conscience, through your

remorses and regrets, through your capacity of

amendment, through your aspirations and ideals,

He speaks to you. You are His coinage. His

image and superscription are stamped upon you.

Aye, and He has also re-stamped you, re-created

you, in Christ Jesus by the earnest of His Spirit.

If it be true of your body that it is fearfully

and wonderfully made, is it not far more true

of your soul ? Henceforward you will regard

yourself with awe and reverence, as a sanctuary

of the eternal goodness. You will not, you dare

not, profane this sanctuary. Here is the true

self-respect nay, not self-respect, for self is

abased, self is overawed, self veils the face and

falls prostrate in the presence of Infinite Wisdom,

and Purity, and Love thus revealed. Surely,

surely the Lord was in this place in this poor,

self-seeking, restless, rebellious soul of mine, and

/, I thought it a common thing, I went on my

way heedless, I followed my own devices and

desires, I knew it not.



In conclusion, I have been asked to plead

before you to-day a cause which it should not

require many words of mine to enforce. The

Barnwell and Chesterton Clergy Fund appeals

to you year by year for aid. Of all claims this

(I say it advisedly) should be a first charge on

the liberality of members of the University.







1 6 The Contemporary Pulpit.



These populous and growing suburbs are created

by your needs. They are chiefly peopled by

college servants and others for whom you are

responsible. Zealous clergy are willing to work

for the work s sake in these districts commonly

for stipends which no one could call remunera

tive sometimes for no stipends at all. And yet

it is still the same old story which I remember

years ago. There is still the same difficulty in

meeting current expenses ; still the same fear

lest the spiritual machinery should be impaired

for lack of funds ; still the same precarious hand-

to-mouth existence, of which we heard complaint

in years past. Is it quite creditable that matters

should go on thus ? In a thousand ways you

all, some directly, some indirectly, you all are

reaping, materially, intellectually, or spiritually

the fruits gathered from the liberality of past

ages ? Will you not make an adequate return ?

Steady, continuous subscriptions are needed. A

liberal response to this day s appeal is needed.

The Fund is largely dependent on the proceeds

of the University Sermon. Not less than a

hundred pounds will suffice to meet all require

ments. Will you not give it this day, either in

this church, or in contributions sent afterwards

to the treasurer ? Think not that you hear

only the poor words of the preacher in this

appeal. Christ Himself pleads with you. Christ s







The Consciousness of Sin Heavens Pathway. 1 7



own words ring in your ears, " Ye did it, ye did

it not, to Me? Ah, yes, the Lord was in this

place in this weary pleading of the preacher,

in these trite commonplaces of spiritual need :

and we, we knew it not. God grant that you

may know it in time. God forbid that He

should ever say to you, " I knew you not."







THE CONSCIOUSNESS OF SIN

HEAVEN S PATHWAY.*



"When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus knees,



saying-, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord."



LUKE v. 8.



To those who search the Scriptures, not because

in them they think they have eternal life, but

because in them they trust to find historical

difficulties, this account of St. Peter s call has

seemed to reward their search. The narrative

indeed, is simple and inartificial in itself; the

incidents follow in a natural order ; the traits 01

character are wonderfully realistic and lifelike.

There is confessedly an air of truthfulness about



the whole story ; but how how, it is asked



can this account be reconciled with the narrative

given in St. John s Gospel ? There we have a

wholly different story of St. Peter s call. His



* Preached in St. Paul s Cathedral on Sunday Afternoon,

September 6th, 1874.







1 8 The Contemporary P^ilpit.



brother Andrew is a scholar of the Baptist. The

Baptist points out Jesus to Andrew and to a

fellow-disciple. They follow Jesus ; they are

accepted by Him ; they lodge that day with

Him ; they are convinced that He is the Christ.

Andrew takes his brother Simon to Jesus ; Jesus

receives him. " Thou art Simon, the son of

Jona. Thou shalt be called Cephas." This

account also is perfectly plain, but how can the

two be harmonised? "Have we not here," it

is said, " two irreconcilable narratives in fact,

two distinct legends of the call of St. Peter ? "



I have more than once remarked that the

apparent moral contradictions of the Bible are

often its most valuable moral lessons. A similar

remark will apply to its apparent historical con

tradictions. Underlying these is very frequently

a subtle harmony, which eluded us at our first

hasty search. The two accounts are after all

not contradictory, but supplementary, the one

to the other. So it is here. Read St. Luke s

narrative carefully, and it will be apparent that

this cannot have been the first meeting of St.

Peter with our Lord. I say nothing of the

healing of his wife s mother, for, though this

is related earlier in St. Luke s Gospel, yet it is

plain from the narrative in the other evangelists

that it is not related here in chronological order.



But what are the facts ? These fishermen have







The Consciousness of Sin Heavens Pathway, ig



been toiling throughout the night ; their labour

has been wholly unrewarded, though night is the

proper season for plying their craft ; and now in

the bright glare of the morning sun now when,

after the ill-success of the night, it would be

perfect madness to expect a haul now they are

suddenly, imperiously bidden to put out again

into the deep sea, and to let down their nets.

And the command is obeyed. There is the

lurking misgiving, there is the tacit remon

strance ; but there is prompt obedience not

withstanding. " Master, we have toiled all the

night ; nevertheless, at Thy word I will let down

the net." " At Thy word! Who is this, that

this most unreasonable demand meets with such

ready acquiescence ? Is it possible that He can

have been a mere passing stranger, or a mere

casual acquaintance ? How could His advice

have been entertained for a moment when He

told an experienced fisherman to do what a

fisherman knew to be utterly foolish and futile ?

The narrative itself, I say, implies some previous

knowledge of our Lord on St. Peter s part. He

would never have acted as he is represented

here as acting unless he had believed, or, at least,

had suspected, that there was a more than human

power and intelligence in our Lord. In short,

the narrative of St. Luke presupposes the nar

rative of St. John. Jesus speaks to Peter now







20 The Contemporary Pulpit.



as one who has a right to command. The

incident in St. John gives the personal call of

Peter ; the incident in St. Luke gives his official

call. On the one occasion he is represented as

a disciple and a follower ; on the other occasion

he is declared an apostle and a teacher. " From

henceforth thou shalt catch men."



But I did not select this text with any special

purpose of discussing historical difficulties. Such

discussions, indeed, are necessary when they

are forced upon us, but they only distract the

mind from the moral and spiritual lessons of the

Scripture. Nor, I think, is the lesson in the

text difficult to extricate. All history teaches

by example, and the Scriptural narrative is the

intensification of history. The miracles of our

Lord are not miracles only. They are most

frequently acted parables also. And have we

not here a parable of the most intense pathos

and of the widest application ?



" Master, we have toiled all the night, and

we have taken nothing." What is this but a

true, painfully true, image of the efforts, the

struggles, the futilities, the despairs of humanity ;

not in isolated cases, here and there only, of

disappointed hopes and unrealised aim, but

with thousands of men and women who are born

into this world, and live and labour, and suffer

and die, without securing any substantial and







The Consciousness of Sin Heavens Pathway. 2 T



enduring good, simply because they have lived

and died apart from God, who alone survives the

decay of time, and alone can give satisfaction

to the immortal spirit of man ?



" We have toiled all the night." Yes ; we see

it now now when the morning light of eternity

has burst upon our aching eyeballs. We have

toiled all the night. There was darkness above

and around us ; there was toil of hands and toil of

heart ; there was the struggle for subsistence ;

there was the race after wealth and honour ;

there was the eager pursuit of phantom goods.

We had our pleasures and we had our pains.

We had our failures and we had our successes.

Yes, our splendid successes as men counted them

as we were half tempted to count them

ourselves. But we have taken nothing. Our

successes are as our failures ; our pains are as

our pleasures, now. In the all-absorbing abyss

of time we have taken nothing, absolutely nothing

nothing which can escape the jaws of the grave,

nothing which will pass the portals of death.

We stand alone, stripped of everything, alone

with God, alone with eternity.



You pursued wealth, and you pursued it not

in vain ; you determined that your career should

be a success, and a success you made it. You

surrounded yourself with every material comfort ;

you added to these substantial appliances all the







22 The Contemporary Pulpit.



embellishments and all the refinements of life.

What then ? Did they give you the satisfaction

you hoped for ? Could you feel that there was

any finality in such aims and acquisitions as

these ? No. The hope was better after all than

the realisation ; the prospect was brighter than

the attainment. You were restless, discontented,

craving still. There was a hunger of soul, though

you would not confess it a hunger of soul,

which rejected and loathed these husks. And

now where are they, and what are they ? Or

you pursued honour and fame, and men lavishly

bestowed upon you that which you so eagerly

sought, till you seemed at length to have all,

and more than all, that you had set your heart

upon. But still there was no contentment, be

cause there was no finality. Dropsy-like your

craving only grew with the gratification. Each

fresh draught of applause created a fresh thirst.

Every imagined slight, every unintentional neglect,

every trivial rebuff, was a keen agony to you.

You had only increased your sensitiveness ; you

had not secured your satisfaction. Or, again, you

had set your heart on human love, God s greatest

boon if you use it without misusing it, if you

subordinate it to his Divine love. Your human

affections, your human friendships, were everything

to you. In the buoyant hopefulness of youth, in

the solid security of middle age, it seemed as







The Consciousness of Sin Heavens Pathway. 23



though these must last for ever. But soon

enough the painful truth dawned upon you. The

march of life began to tell on your comrades in

the journey. One dropped at your side, and then

another. The ranks were visibly thinning, and

there was no one to step in and take the vacant

places. First the mother at whose knees you

had lisped your earliest faltering prayer ; then the

friend who shared all your counsels, who was more

than a brother to you ; then the wife whom you

cherished as another self; then the little daughter

whose innocent childish talk had solaced you in

many a grievous hour : so, one by one, they fell

away, and you are left gradually alone and more

alone ; they leave you when you need them most,

and at length in the vacancy of your solitude you

make the bitter discovery that though you have

toiled all night you have taken nothing you

have taken nothing at all.



A short time ago we laid in the vaults of this

cathedral the last mortal remains of one * who

has achieved for himself a foremost place among

the masters of his art in our own age. It was

fit that his bones should lie here, side by side

with more than one famous brother sculptor who

has gone before him side by side with the most

illustrious names in the sister art of painting ;

with Reynolds, whose easy grace in the delineation

* Mr. Foley, R.A., sculptor.







24 The Contemporary Pulpit.



of human portraiture stands quite without a rival ;

with Turner, who has succeeded as no other

painter has succeeded, in any age or country, in

reproducing on canvas the subtle play of light

and shade, the ever-varying aspect, the depth,

the infinity, of external nature ; with Landseer,

too, our most recent guest in this our artists

resting-place, whose genial and vigorous repre

sentations of the lower animal life have invested

it with almost a human interest, and, so doing,

have taught us many a suggestive lesson of

humanity and kindliness. Side by side, too,

with England s greatest architects, and Wren,

their prince, whose genius needs no word of

eulogy here, for his monument is above and

around us. Such a place of sepulture well befitted

such a man. It is our tribute of respect for noble

gifts nobly used. It is our expression of thanks

giving to God, who thus endows His servants that

they may employ their endowments to exalt and

to embellish human life.



But one thought cannot fail to strike us here.

We may remember that the great conqueror of

modern time, when it was suggested to him to

perpetuate some signal incident in his triumphant

career by an historical picture, asked how long the

work would last. He was told two or three

centuries perhaps, under favourable circum

stances, five centuries. This would not satisfy his







The Consciousness of Sin Heavens Pathway. 25



devouring ambition. This was not the immortality

of fame which he had designed for himself. He

must have a more enduring memorial than this.

Compared with the canvas of the painter, the

marble of the sculptor is long-lived indeed. The

most enduring of human works are the works of

the sculptor s chisel. The stern granite features

of the Pharaoh who befriended Joseph and the

Pharaoh who persecuted Israel may still look down

on the land which they ruled with an iron rule

between three and four thousand years ago. The

winged lions and winged bulls on which the con

temporaries of Shalmanezer and Sennacherib may

have gazed in awe, in the royal palaces of Assyria,

still confront us in our national museum with the

same weird look, unchanged though all else has

changed, surviving still, though a hundred genera

tions of men have been born, and lived, and died,

meanwhile. And it may be that in the centuries

to come, some curious explorer will exhume,

from the grass-grown mounds of this ruined

city, a work of art bearing the name of him

whom on Friday last we bore to an honoured

resting-place perhaps the effigy of a prince

who flourished in a remote epoch of the past,

when England was still a nation, and who sank

into an untimely grave amidst a people s mourning.

And thus the sculptor s fame will have a second

lease of life.







26 The Contemporary Pulpit.



But after all, thirty centuries are but as three

are but as three years or three days compared

with eternity. Napoleon s ambition was a

perverted instinct, but it was an instinct, never

theless. Man feels that he was not made to

die ; he will not consent to die. This thirst for

enduring fame, what is it but an echo, a mocking

echo, of an eternal verity ? Yes, he will live.

The materialist may tell him that, when the eye

and the ear are dissolved into gases and decom

posed into dust, it matters nothing to him with

what honours men may adorn his memory, with

what praises they may celebrate his name. He,

too his personality, or what he was pleased to

call his personality is dissolved, is dissipated,

is gone ; but the materialist never yet has been

able, never will be able, to persuade mankind.

The natural instinct of man revolts against the

assumption ; and the ambition of the Christian,

the ambition for eternity alone, expresses truly

this general instinct of man. To labour for the

good things of this world, to labour for fame

in the coming centuries, what is it, after all, if

our views are bounded by this narrow horizon ?

Why, then, like the disappointed fishermen of

the Galilean lake, we have toiled all the night

long, and, for our pains, we have taken nothing.

And this change this conversion, if you

will comes sometimes, it may be, despite our-







The Consciousness of Sin Heavens Pathway. 27



selves, but comes remember this comes most

often in answer to some act of obedience,

to some surrender of self-will on our part We

may complain ; we may demur ; we may distrust.

We have toiled all the night, and have taken

nothing; but we recognise the authority of the

Divine voice, and we force ourselves into com

pliance "nevertheless, at Thy word." The

command is general : it has come to all alike,

" Let ye down your nets." But, like Peter, we

specialise it, we adopt it, we appropriate it to

ourselves : " I will let down the net." And so

we do what seems hard and unreasonable ; we

do what we have never done before.



And the response the response to this obe

dience is a light flashed in upon our soul, a

double revelation, a revelation of mixed pleasure

and pain, for it is a revelation at once of the

sin within and of God without. The marvellous

bounty of God s grace dazzles and astounds our

vision, and, in our perplexity of heart, the de

spairing, craving, forbidding, yearning cry is

wrung from our lips, " Depart from me ! Depart

from me, O Lord, for I am a sinful man ! "



" Depart from me, O Lord." I know it all

now. I see my sin, because I see Thy goodness.

Yes, I have beheld Thy holiness, Thy purity,

Thy truth, Thy grace, Thy love, and I have been

stunned with the contrast to self. The brightness







28 The Contemporary Pulpit.



of the light has intensified the blackness of the

shade. Depart from me, O Lord ! what can I

have in common with Thee? I, so selfish, so vile,

so sin-laden, with Thee, so merciful, so righteous,

so holy. In very deed, Thy ways are not as my

ways, and Thy thoughts are not as my thoughts.

Depart from me, O Lord ! This " fear of the

Lord" is, indeed, the "beginning of wisdom."

This consciousness of sin is the true pathway to

heaven. The saintliest of men have ever felt

and spoken most strongly of their own sinfulness.

The intensity of their language has provoked the

sneer of the worldling has been an evidence

here of their own conviction that, despite their

pretensions to holiness, they are ho better than

he, perhaps somewhat worse. But they know,

and he doth not know, what sin means and what

God means, and so the despairing cry is wrung

from their agony, " Depart from me, O Lord."



" Depart from me, O Lord ! And yet not

so, Lord." Even while Peter is speaking his

gestures belie his words. His lips implore Jesus

despairingly to depart, but his eyes and his

hands entreat Him passionately to stay. " Not

so, Lord, for how can I endure to part with

Thee ? In Thy presence is hope, is light, is joy.

Lord, to whom shall we go ? Thou hast the

words of eternal life. Depart from me ? No ;

it is for the godless to say, Depart from







The History of Israel. 29



us, for we desire not the knowledge of God.

It is for the unclean spirits to rave against

Thee Let us alone, Thou Jesus of Nazareth!

What have we to do with Thee ? But I, I have

everything to do with Thee. I am created in the

image of God. I have a ray of the Divine light,

a seed of the Divine word, within me. And like

seeks like ; therefore I yearn after Thee, therefore

I am drawn towards Thee, therefore I stretch out

my hands to Thee over the wide chasm of sin

which yawns between us. Depart from me ?

Nay, rather abide with me. Teach me, absolve

me, purify me, strengthen me. Take me to

Thyself, that I may be Thine and Thine only.

Abide with me, for the day of this life is far

spent, and the night cometh when no man can

work. Stay with me now and evermore, and so

fulfil Thy gracious promise : If a man love Me

and will keep My word, My Father will love him,

and we will come unto him, and make our abode

with him. :



THE HISTORY OF ISRAEL



AN ARGUMENT IN FAVOUR OF CHRISTIANITY.*

" They are Thy people and Thine inheritance." DEUT. ix. 29.



IT is related of a certain royal chaplain that,

being asked often by his sovereign to give a



* Sermon preached in St. Paul s Cathedral on Sunday,

May 2ist, 1876.







3O The Contemporary Pulpit.



concise and" convincing argument in favour of

Christianity, he replied in two words " The

Jews." It is this subject which I offer for your

consideration this afternoon the history and

character of the Israelite race as a witness to

Christianity. The subject is certainly not

inappropriate at this season, when the com

memoration of the great Pentecostal Day is fast

approaching, to which all the previous history

of the nation had tended, which substituted the

dispensation of the Spirit for the dispensation of

the Law, and expanded the religion of a tribe

into the religion of mankind. It is, moreover,

forced upon our notice by that remarkable chapter

in Deuteronomy which we have heard this after

noon, and which, by prophetic insight, brings

out with singular distinctness the prominent cha

racter and subsequent career of the race. Only

reflect upon such expressions as these: "Go

in to possess nations greater and mightier than

thyself, cities great and fenced up to heaven " ;

" Understand, therefore, this day that the Lord

thy God is He which goeth over before thee " ;

" The Lord thy God giveth thee not this good

land to possess it for thy righteousness; for thou

art a stiffnecked people ; "Ye have been

rebellious against the Lord from the day that

I knew you."



Read these passages in the full light which







The History of Israel. 31



thirty centuries of the nation s history have

thrown upon them. Study this contrast between

their character and their achievements as it

unfolds itself in all their subsequent history.

Consider, on the one hand, not only the first

conquest of Canaan to which the words more

immediately refer, but the succession of far

more brilliant victories over the great nations of

the world, culminating in that most magnificent

triumph of all the triumph of Christianity.

Consider, on the other hand, not only those

early murmurings and idolatries in the wilderness

to which the language more directly points, but

that long catalogue of rebellions of which the

subsequent history of Israel is made up, and

which reached its climax in the martyrdom of

the Lord of Life. Set these one against the

other, and you will confess that the utterances

of Deuteronomy are wonderful anticipations of

the future, succinct epitomes of centuries yet

to come. You may question, if you will, every

single prophecy in the Old Testament, but

the whole history of the Jews is one continuous

prophecy, more distinct and articulate than all.

You may deny if you will every successive

miracle which is recorded therein, but again the

history of the Jews is, from first to last, one stu

pendous miracle, more wonderful and convincing

than all. Here you have a, small, insignificant







32 The Contemporary Pulpit.



people stiff-necked, rebellious, worthless ; there

you have the most magnificent spiritual achieve

ments the most signal moral victories. What

conclusion can you draw, except that which is

drawn for you in the words which I have read :

"The Lord thy God is He that goeth before

you"? "They are Thy people and Thine in

heritance, which Thou broughtest out by Thy

mighty power and Thy stretched out arm."



Look first at the capacities of the people them

selves. They had no remarkable gifts which

might have led us to anticipate this unique des

tiny. They had no intellectual qualities of a very

high order like the Greeks vivid imagination,

subtlety of thought, aesthetic taste ; no political

capacity like the Romans, no organizing power

or faculty of legislation which might secure for

them the ascendency over the nations of the

world. They were, moreover, a stubborn, ex

clusive, intolerant people an unpractical people,

without the power, or at least the will, to adapt

themselves to the institutions, the feelings, and

the prejudices of the people with whom they,

were brought in contact. They were believed,

in consequence, to cherish an universal hatred

against the rest of mankind ; and they, in turn,

were hated by all hated, not with the hatred

of an admiring envy, but the hatred of a super

cilious scorn. Of all the tribes on the face of







The History of Israel. 33



the earth the Jews, we should have said, were

the very last to ingratiate themselves with the

other races of mankind, and to lay the civilised

world at their feet. And now turn from the

people themselves to the land of their abode.

Certainly this does not enable us to solve the

enigma. Palestine does not occupy a large space

in the Christian s imagination ; for it is a very

minute, insignificant spot in the map of the world.

It is, moreover, incapable of expansion, for it is

bounded on all sides either by sea or mountain

ranges, or by vast and impracticable deserts. To

a great extent all this country is mountainous and

barren, and even this meagre and unpromising

territory is not all their own. The sea-coast

would have been valuable to a people gifted

with commercial instincts. With commerce they

might have extended their influence ; but from

the sea-coast they were wholly excluded. The

Phoenicians on the north and the Philistines on

the south occupied all the most important har

bours ; and this territory of the Jews was so

unexpansive, so barren, so unpromising that they

were placed at a still greater disadvantage when

compared with the surrounding people. The

Jews are surrounded on all sides, and by the

most formidable neighbours. On the one side

by Egypt, a country of the highest fertility, the

foremost military power in the world, with an







34 The Contemporary Pulpit,



ancient civilisation which dated from a period

long before the birth of the father of the Israelite

people, whilst it stood foremost of the human

race in works of art in its day. Who was Israel,

then, that he could withstand Egypt? There,

again, on the other side, was another mighty

empire, first Assyria, then Babylon, the only

rival of Egypt of the ancient world. In these

places they had the same advantage of wide

plains of exceptional fertility, a high and remote

civilisation, an army of tremendous strength, and

a centralisation under an absolute rule, with all

the resources which a great and vast dominion

could command. As Persia succeeded Babylon,

and as Babylon succeeded Assyria, so Persia-

far more mighty and terrible overruns and

conquers all Western Asia. Egypt itself falls.

Palestine is a mere speck, surrounded by the

huge dominions of the Persian monarch. What

chance has Israel against such terrible neigh

bours? Must it not be crushed and ground to

atoms and annihilated by its foes? But, at all

events, it might have been supposed that, how

ever stubborn and impracticable they were in

their attitude towards others, they would at least

be united amongst themselves that they would

be loyal to their country, that they would be

faithful to their laws and institutions, that they

would be true to their God. This internal.







The History of Israel. 35



cohesion would give them strength to resist

this absolute harmony would win for them an

influence that would compensate for the superior

advantages of their more powerful neighbours.

But what do we find as a matter of fact ? Their

national history is one continuous record of

murmuring, of rebellion, of internal feuds, of

moral and spiritual defection. They have no

sooner escaped from their Egyptian bondage,

their necks still bearing the scars of the tyrants

yoke, than they fall into shameless idolatry. The

worship of the golden calf is only the type and

presence of still more guilty lapses in centuries

yet to come ; the revolt against Moses and Aaron

only the type and shadow of the rebellious spirit

to which Israel rose in the distant future. Again

and again the religion of Jehovah is effaced, or

almost effaced, from the mind of the nation. Again

and again the hideous idolatries of Moloch ido

latries cruel, profligate, and shameless supplant

the worship of the Lord of heaven and earth.

And the political condition of the nation is not

one whit more hopeful than the religious. When

unity alone can save the people then there is

disruption. The Ten Tribes are severed from

the House of David, never to be united again.

The power of one kingdom is spent in neu

tralising the power of the other. This is a

concise history of the race during the period







36 The Contemporary Pulpit.



from the disruption to the captivity. The career

of Israel, from first to last, is a running comment

upon the words, " Not for thy righteousness or

for the uprightness of thine heart dost thou go

to possess the land," for " ye have been rebellious

against the Lord from the day that I knew you."

Not once or twice only the Mighty Archer has

strung His weapon and pointed His shaft, and

His aim has been frustrated by Israel s disobe

dience. His chosen instruments have been

snapped in His hands, starting aside like a

broken bow. Indeed, the history of Israel is

quite unique in the chronicles of nations. The

chronicles of other nations record the qualities

as well as the crimes of the people whose career

they commemorate. They praise their patriotism,

their prowess, their manifold virtues, their magni

ficent achievements. But the Bible, the chronicle

of the Jews, is one uninterrupted catalogue of

sins and shortcomings one long bill of indict

ment against Israel. One only is true, one

only is faithful, one only is victorious ; for he

fears not the nation, but the nation s God. So

then, however we look at the matter, there is

nothing which affords ground for hope ; and

when we question actual facts, we find they

correspond altogether to those expectations we

should have formed beforehand from the character

and position of the nation. Never has any people







The History of Israel. 37



lived upon the earth who passed through such

terrible disasters as the Jews. Never has any

people been so near to absolute extinction again

and again, and yet have survived. Again and

again the vision of the prophet has been realised.

Again and again the valley of the shadow of

death has been strewn with the dry bones of

carcases seemingly extinct. Again and again

there have been seasons of dark despair, when

even the most hopeful, challenged by the Divine

voice, could only respond, " O Lord God, Thou

knowest ! " But again and again there has been

a shaking of the dry bones the bones have come

together, bone to bone ; they have been strung

with sinews and clothed with flesh ; breath has

been breathed into them, and they have lived,

and have become an exceeding great army.

Think of those many centuries of Egyptian

bondage, when the life of the nation seemed

to have been strangled in its infancy. Reflect

next on that period in its youthful career, when

it is fighting its way inch by inch, and struggling

for very existence in Palestine, doing battle with

nations greater and mightier than itself, and with

" cities fenced high up to heaven." Look forward

again, and we see its fate during the manhood

of the nation under its king, the land now divided

against itself and overrun by successive invaders.

As of old so now again, but in a far more







38 The Contemporary Pulpit.



terrible sense, Israel finds himself face to face

with the Anakims and with those great empires

of the East before whom he appears but as

a grasshopper. The end was inevitable. For

a time Israel was a plaything in the hands

of those terrible neighbours, tossed to and

fro between two powerful rivals Egypt on the

one side, and Assyria and Babylon on the other

till at length, in a moment of victory, he is swept

away, and his place knows him no more. Could

anything seem more hopeless than the revival of

the nation from the Babylonish captivity? Yet

from Babylon, as from Egypt, Israel returned.

A new lease of life was granted, and with it

there followed a new lease of disaster also. His

old fate pursued him still. The saying was

fulfilled which had been spoken by the prophet :

" That which the locust hath left hath the canker-

worm eaten, and that which the canker-worm

hath left hath the caterpillar eaten." He was

rescued from the fangs of Babylon only to be

food for the Assyrians. He was drawn from the

feet of the Assyrians only to be devoured by

the insatiable Roman. And yet all the while

and this is the remarkable fact to which I ask

your attention amidst calamities the most over

whelming and suffering the most intense exiled,

enslaved, trampled under foot, only not annihi

lated all the while he was hopeful, was jubilant,







The History of Israel 39



was triumphant still. He was always dying, and

behold he lived. Century after century prophets

had declared, in no ambiguous terms, that despite

all these adverse appearances, despite all these

wearisome delays, Israel had a magnificent futur