Online Resource Library
Commentary Index | Return to PrayerRequest.com | DownloadAnthology of 3,000+ Classic Sermons: Farrar - Work in the Groaning Creation
Subjects in this Topic:
FARRAR WORK IN THE GROANING CREATION
d by Google
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTB
Fbedebick William Fabrab was bom in Bombay, India, in 1831. He was edu cated at King's College, London, and at Trinity College, Cambridge. He became dean of Canterbury in 1895, and died in 1903. His life of Christ, the most widely read of his many religious works, has been translated into many languages ―even into Japanese. The following illus«trates his power of emphasis.
^There, amid those voluptuous splen«dors, Pilate, already interested, ab^eady feeling in this prisoner before him some nobleness which touched his Roman na ture, asking Him in pitying wonder, ^Art thou the Kmg of the Jews?' ―^Thou poor, worn, tear-stained outcast, in this hour of Thy bitter need ―O pale, lonely, friendless, wasted man, in Thy poor peasant gar ments, with Thy tied hands and the foul traces of the insults of Thine enemies on Thy face and on Thy robes ―Thou, so un like the fierce, magnificent Herod, whom this multitude which thirsts for Thy blood acknowledged as their sovereign ―art Thou the King of the Jewsf
d by Google
FARRAR
1831― WORK IN THE GROANING CREATION'
And God saw everything that he had made, and be hold it was very good. ―Gen. i., 31. For we hnow that the whole creation groaneth and iranaileth in pain together until now. ―^Bom. viii., 22. And there shall be no more curse. ―^Bev. xxii., 3.
IN those three texts you have the past, the present, the future of our earth; what was, what is, what shall be ; the perfect ness which man has marred, the punishment which he is enduring, the hope to which he looks. What share we may have in the mar ring or the mending of this our transitory dwelling, that is our main subject to-day.
We see some glimpses at least of the truth that actively by sympathy, by thoughtfulness, by charity, by unselfislmess, by loving one another; ―^that even passively by abstaining from the fashionable and universal vice of biting and devouring one another; ―^we see that by honesty, by self -reverence, by rever ence for others, by obeying the golden rule of
^Beprinted by permission of Messrs. E. P. Button & Oo.
*^ Digitized by Google
THE WORLD'S GREAT SERMONS
''doing unto others as we would they should do unto BSy*' we may do very much to limit the realm of sorrow, and to substitute a golden for an iron scepter in its sway over human hearts. We see, too, that our own inevitable trials and humiliations,―all the neglect, all the insult, all the weariness, all the disappoint ment, all the ingratitude, which may befall us, ―can be better borne if we be cheerful and active in doing good. Labor for Qod is the best cure for sorrow, and the best occupation of life.
Can we to-day push the inquiry yet further, and learn whether it is in our power in any way to mend the flaw which runs for us through the material world ; or in any way to cUminii^ for ourselves and for mankind the pressure of that vast weight of laws which exercises over us, undoubtedly, a sway of aiwful potency t The whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now; can we ―^not by any strength of ours, but be cause God permits and desires it, can we do anything to hasten that blest hour for which we wait ―^the hour of the new creation; of the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body; of the restitution of all things; of the palingenesia of the world?
I think we can. I know that the supposed helplessness of man is a favorite topic of mod em materialism, which makes of man the ir responsible tool of forces which he can not re
230 n T
Digitized by CjOOQIC
FARRAR
sist, the sport and prey of dumb powers which are alike inexorable and passionless. This philosophy ―^if we may call it a phQosophy ―laughs to scorn the notion of a miracle, and makes virtue and vice not the conscious choice of free beings, but the inevitable result of material causes and hereditary impulses, of which in all but semblance, we are the mere automata and slaves. My brethren, into all these speculations of a baseless atheism, I need not enter. To us, nature means nothing but the sum total of phenomena which Qod has created; and since in the idea of nature is included the idea of God, a miracle becomes as natural and as easily conceivable as the most ordinary occurrence. And we know ti^at we are free, that God does not mock us, that we can abhor that which is evil, and cleave to that which is good. The laws of nature are nothing, then, for us but observed se quences, and we do not admit that there is anything fearful in their uniformity. It is true that nature drives her plowshare straight onwards, and heeds not what may be ly ing in tiie furrow; it is true that therefore she shows an apparent indifference to human agony; it is true that if the fairest and sweetest child which earth ever saw be left at play in the face of the advancing tide, the tide will still advance and drown the little life ; it is true that the fire in its ruthless viv idness will roll over the loveliest maiden whose
*3^ Digitized by VjkJW VIC
THE WORLD'S GREAT SERMONS
rich dress should catch its flame. It is a law that resistance must be equal to force, and that if there be a certain amount of pressure of vibration, whatever comes of it, a structure will give way, even though, alas, it hurl nearly a hundred human beings, with one flash of horror, into the gulf of death. But is this any reason for a fierce arraignment of nature, as tho she were execrably ruthless, and ex ecrably indifferent? Not so, my brethren. Death whenever it comes is but death. None of us has any promise of this or that amount of life. It needs no railway accident, no sink ing ship, or breaking ice, or burning town, or flame from heaven, or arrow in the dark ness, or smiting of the sun by day, or the moon by night, to cut short our days. An in visible sporule in the air may do it, or a lesion no bigger than a pin's point.
"He ate, drank, laughed, loved, lived, and liked life
well; Then came ―^who knows f ―some gast of jungle wind, A stumble on the path; a taint i' the tank; A snake's nip; half a span of angry steel; A chUl; a fishbone; or a falling tUe, ―And life is over, and the man is dead.''
But is this any reason why we should look on ourselves as victims of dead irresponsible forces? Why so? Death is but death, and if we live faithfully, death is our richest birth right. "Were you ready to die that you jumped into the stormy sea to save that child's
232
Digitized by VjWVJVIC
FARRAR
life?'' said a gentleman to an English sailor. '* Should I have been better prepared, sir," the sailor answered, "if I had shirked my duty?" A sudden death is often, and in many respects, the most merciful form of death; and the apparently terrible death of a few may save the lives of many hundreds. The uniformity of nature may sometimes wear the aspect of passionless cruelty; but as we learn more and more to observe and to obey her laws, we find more and more that they work for countless ends of beneficence and beauty, that out of seeming evil she works real good, out of transient evil enduring good. The fires which rend the earthquake and burst from the volcano, are the quickening forces of the world ; her storms lash the lazy atmos phere which otherwise would stagnate into pestilence, and it is for man's blessing, not for his destruction, that her waters roll and her great winds blow.
But are we, after all, so very helpless before the aggregate of these mighty forces, as ma terialism loves to represent ? Not so ! ' * Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of thy hands," said the Psalmist, *'Thou hast put all things under his feet." ''Eeplenish the earth, and subdue, and have dominion," said the first utterance of God to man. And what is this but an equivalent of the latest utterances of science, that **the order of na ture is ascertainable by our faculties to an
233
itized by Google
THE WORLD'S GREAT SERMONS
extent which is practically unlimited, and that our volition counts for something in the course of events"? Man has done much to make the world in all senses a worse place for himself, but he has also, thank Gk>d, done much to make it better, and he may, to an almost unspeakable extent, remedy for him self and for his race the throes and agonies of the groaning universe. God meant His earth to be a more blest place for us than it is, and in every instance men have made it more blest when they have read the open se crets, by virtue of which, for our excitement, if not for our reward, ''herbs have their heal ing, stones their preciousness, and stars their times.'' Ancient nations have shuddered at the awfulness of the sea. It drowns ship and sailor; but 'Hrim your sail, and the same wave which drowns the bark is cleft by it, and bears it along like its own foam, a plume and a power." The lightning shatters tower and temple ; but once learn that it is nothing but the luminous all-pervading fluid which you may evolve by rubbing a piece of amber, and brush out of a child's fair hair, and then with no more potent instrument than a boy's kite you may dash harmless to the earth the all shattering brand which was the terror of an tiquity; nay, you may seize it by its wing of fire, and bid it carry your messages around the girdled globe. Zymotic diseases smite down the aged and young, but, when you have
334 Digitized by Vj*^WV IC
PARRAR
learnt that they are caiised by myriads of invisible germs which float in the water or the air, you have but to observe the common est rules of sanitary science, to filter and boil the dangerous water, to insure free currents of air, to breathe as nature meant you to breathe, through the nostrils, and not through the throat, and you rob them of half their deadliness. Why has smallpox been stayed in its loathly ravages, and deprived of its hideous power? Why does the Black Death rage no longer, as it raged among the monks of this Abbey four centuries ago? Why do we not have pestilence, like that great plague of London, which destroyed 7,165 persons in a single week? Why has jail fever disap peared? Why are the cities of Europe horri fied no longer by the hideousness of medieval leproi^? Because men live amid cleaner and purer surroundings. Because rushes are no longer strewn over floors which had been suf fered to be saturated with the organic refuse of years. Because the simplest laws of nature are better understood. Because, in these re spects, men have remedied by God's aid, some of those miseries for which the Savior sighed. And this amelioration of man's miseries is a great, and noble, and Christlike work. Would that there were no other side to the picture ! Man, alas I also has done, and may do, infinite mischief to the world he lives in. He may cut down the forests on the hills, and
235
Digitized by VjkJVJ'
gle
THE WORLD'S GREAT SERMONS
so diminiBh the necessary rain. He may pluck up the glasses on the shore, and so lay waste whole acres to the devastating sands. He may poison the sweet, pure rivers of his native soil, till their crystal freshness is cor rupted into deathful and putrescent slime. He may herd together, as we suffer our poor to do, in filthy tenements which shall breed every species of disease and vice. He may indulge or acquiesce in senseless fashions and perni cious vanities which shall mean not only wasteful ugliness and grotesque extravagance,
but leave shattered health and ruined lives, to the mothers of his race. He may in greed of competition extirpate the game of the forest, the fij^es of tiie sea. He may destroy the exquisite balance of nature, by shooting down or entrapping the cnveet birds of the air, till his vines and his harvests are devastated by the insects on which they feed. He may suf fer the chimneys of his manufactories to poi son the atmosphere with black smoke and sul phurous acid, till his proudest cities are stifled at noonday, as we all have seen in London for these many weeks, with the unclean mirk of midnight fogs. He may suffer noxious gases to be vomited upon the breeze, till the most glorious buildings in his cities corrode and crumble ―^as the stones of this Abbey are doing ―^under their influence, ―^till the green woods blacken into leafless wastes, and life is lived at miserable levels of vitality under the
236
Digitized by VjVJVJV IC
FARRAR
filthy reek. There is hardly any limit to the evil, no less than to the good, which man may do to this his earthly environment. Nor is it less deplorable that he may go out of his way to do endless mischief to himself by his misuse or abuse of the properties of things. From the dried capsules of the white poppy he extracts opium, and he grows acres ^f pop pies that with thousands of chests of that opium he may degrade into decrepitude and wretchedness the most populous nations upon earth. Nature gives him the purple grape and the golden grain, and he mashes them and lets them rot and seethe, and assists, and su perintends, and retards their decomposition, till he has educed from them a fermented in toxicating liquor; and not content with this luxury, he pours it into Circean cups of de grading excess ; not content with even fermen tation, he further, by distillation, extracts a transparent, mobile, colorless fluid, which is the distinctive element in ardent spirits, and these, whatever may be their legitimate use in manufacture or in medicine, he has so horribly abused that they have become to mankind, the spiritus ardentes indeed, but not of heaven ―fiery spirits of the abyss, which have deci mated nations, ruined continents, shortened millions of lives, and turned for millions of God's children, and millions of Christ's little ones, life into an anguish, and earth into a hell. Do not say we can do nothing to soften
237 Digitized by Vj wiggle
THE WORLD'S GREAT SERMONS
for man the deadly agencies which are work ing in the world, ―^for all this mischief, and incalculably more than this, is man's own doing.
But let me ask you to glance for a moment at one of the beneficent secrets which nature has yielded up to man. Have you ever real ized, with heartfelt gratitude to God, the priceless boon which He has granted to this generation in the diminution of painf One of our best surgeons has just told us the strange yet simple story of this discovery, from the first dim intimation of the possibility in 1789, till in 1846 it might almost be said that in Europe we could name the month, be fore which aU operative surgery was agoniz ing, and after which it was painless. But what an immense, what an enormous boon is this application of anodynes ! ''Past all count ing is the sum of happiness enjoyed by the millions who have, in the last thirty-three years, escaped the pain that was inevitable in surgical operations; pain made more terrible by apprehension; more keen by close atten tion ; sometimes awful in a swift agony; some times prolonged beyond even the most patient endurance, and then renewed in memory, and terrible in dreams. This will never be felt again." And besides this abolition of pain, it would take long to tell how chloroform and ether **have enlarged the field of useful sur gery, making many things easy which were
^•°Digitized by Vj*^WV lAC
FARRAR
diflScult, many safe which were perilous, many practical which were nearly impossible. ' ' But another lesson this eminent man of science draws, which bears directly on our subject, is that while we are profanely decrying nature, discoveries the most blest, boons the most priceless, may lie close to us and yet God leave us to discover them ; and that we may endure many needless miseries, falsely accus ing nature and even Gk)d, only because we have neither hope enough to excite intense desire, nor desire enough to encourage hope. We wonder that for forty years the discovery of anesthetics was not pursued, tho, after the pregnant hint of Sir H. Davy, it lay but half hidden under so thin a veil. Our successors will wonder at us, as we at those before us, that we were as blind to who can tell how many great truths, which, they will say, were all around us, within reach of any clear and earnest mind. They will wonder at the qui etude with which we stupidly acquiesce in, or immorally defend, the causes which perpetu ate and intensify our habitual miseries. Our fathers needlessly put up with these miseries *'as we now put up with typhoid fever and sea-sickness; with local floods and droughts; with waste of health and wealth in pollutions of rivers; with hideous noises, and foul smells'*; with the curse of alcoholic poison ing, and many other miseries. Our successors, when they have remedied or prevented these,
239 ^ ,
Digitized by CjOOQIC
THE WORLD'S GREAT SERMONS
will look back on them with horror, and on us with wonder and contempt, for what they will call our idleness or blindness, or indiffer ence to suffering. Alas ! in the physical as in the moral world, we murmur at the evils which surround us, and we do not remove them. We multiply those evils, and make life wretched, and then curse nature because it is wretched, and neglect or fling away the pre cious gifts and easy remedies which would make it blest. And is it not so in the spiritual world? Nine-tenths of our miseries are due to our sins. Yet the remedy of our sins is close at hand. We have a Savior; we have been commemorating His birth, but we live and act as tho He were dead ; in our own lives and those of others we suffer those miseries to run riot which He came to cure; we talk and live as tho those remedies were undiscov erable, while from day to day His Word is very nigh us, even in our mouths and in our hearts!
For one sermon you hear about work for the secular amelioration of the suffering world for which Christ sighed, you may (I suppose) hear fifty on passing ecclesiastical controver sies and five thousand about individual efforts for personal salvation. And yet one pure, self-sacrificing deed, one word of generosity to an opponent, one kindly act to aid another, may have been better for you in God's sight and far harder for you to do, than to attend
240
itized by Google
FARRAR
in the year the 730 daily services which this Abbey provides. Yes, I am glad that I have preached to you to-day the duty of what some would call secular work ―as tho secular work were not often the most profoundly religious work! ―^for the amelioration of the world. And I say, it were better for you to have made but two blades of grass grow where one grew before, than if, with the hollow, hateful, slanderous heart of some false prophets of modem religionism, you were every morning to do whatever modem thing may be analo gous to binding your fringes with blue, and broadening your phylacteries, ―to making the hilltops blaze with your sacrificial fires, build ing here seven altars, and offering a bullock and a ram on every altar. And so, my breth ren, let us leave this Abbey to-day with con ceptions of duty larger and more hopeful; with more yearning both after the sympathy of Christ and after His activity; with more faith to see that the world would not be so utter a ruin but for our perversity ; with more hope to be convinced that even we can help to redeem its disorders, and restore its pristine perf ectness. Let us obey the command, ' * Eph phatha. Be opened!" Let us lift up our eyes to see that, tho the air around us is colorless, the far-off heaven is blue. Let us see and be thankful for the beauty of the world, the sweet air, the sunshine, the sea, the splendid ornaments of heaven, the ever-recurring cir
VII―16 241
Digitized by Google
THE WORLD'S GREAT SERMONS
cles of the divine beneficence. Let ns learn the secrets of the mighty laws which only crush us when we disobey them, and which teach us, with divine inflexibility, that as we sow we reap. Let us not hinder the students of science in their patient toil and marvelous discovery by the crude infallibilities of our ignorant dogmatism. Let us believe ―^for we were saved in hope ―^that "Utopia itself is but another word for time"; and that, if our own work seems but infinitesimal, yet ** there are mites in science, as well as in charity, and the ultimate results of each are alike important and beneficial." And so the more we share in the sigh and in the toil of the Savior, the more sh^ we share in His redeeming glad ness.