Sermons on National Subjects

At the time when Jeremiah the prophet spoke those words to the Jews, nothing seemed more unlikely than that they would ever come true.  The whole Jewish nation was falling to pieces from its own sins.  Brutish and filthy idolatry in high and low—oppression, violence, and luxury among the court and the nobility—shame, and poverty, and ignorance among the lower classes—idleness and quackery among the priesthood—and as kings over all, one fool and profligate after another, set on the throne by a foreign conqueror, and pulled down again by him at his pleasure.  Ten out of the twelve tribes of Israel had been carried off captive, young and old, into a distant land.  The small portion of country which still remained inhabited round Jerusalem, had been overrun again and again by cruel armies of heathens.  Without Jerusalem was waste and ruins, bloodshed and wretchedness; within every kind of iniquity and lies, division and confusion.  If ever there was a miserable and contemptible people upon the face of the earth, it was the Jewish nation in Jeremiah’s time.  Jeremiah makes no secret of it.  His prophecies are full of it—full of lamentation and shame: “Oh that my head were a fountain of tears, to weep for the sins of my people!”  He feels that God has sent him to rebuke those sins, to warn and prophesy to his fellow-countrymen the certain ruin into which they are rushing headlong; and he speaks God’s message boldly.  From the poor idol-ridden labourer, offering cakes to the Queen of Heaven to coax her into sending him a good harvest, to the tyrant king who had built his palace of cedar and painted it with vermilion, he had a bitter word for every man.  The lying priest tried to silence him; and Jeremiah answered him, that his wife should be a harlot in the city, and his children sold for slaves.  The king tried to flatter him into being quiet; and he told him in return, that he should be buried with the burial of an ass, dragged out and cast forth beyond the gates of Jerusalem.  The luxurious queen, who made her nest in the cedars, would be ashamed and confounded, he said, for her wickedness.  The crown prince was a despised broken idol—a vessel in which was no pleasure; he should be cast out, he and his children, into slavery in a land which he knew not.  The whole royal family, he said, would perish; none of them should ever again prosper or sit upon the throne of David.  This was his message; shame and confusion, woe and ruin, to high and low; every human being he passed in the street was a doomed man.  For the day of the Lord was at hand, and who should be able to escape it?

A sad calling, truly, to have to work at; and all the more sad because Jeremiah had no pride, no steadfast opinion of his own excellence to keep him up.  He hates his calling of prophet.  At the very moment he is foretelling woe, he prays God that his prophecy may not come true; he tries every method to prevent its coming true, by entreating his countrymen to repent.  There runs through all his awful words a vein of tenderness, and pity, and love unspeakable, which to me is the one great mark of a true prophet; a sign that Jeremiah spoke by the Spirit of God; a sign that too many writers nowadays do not speak by the Spirit of God.  If they rebuke the rich and powerful, they do it generally in a very different spirit from Jeremiah’s—in a spirit of bitterness and insolence, not very easy to describe, but easy enough to perceive.  They seem to rejoice in evil, to delight in finding fault, to be sorry, and not glad, when their prophecies of evil turn out false; to try to set one class against another, one party against another, as if we were not miserably enough split up already by class interests and party spirit.  They are glad enough to rebuke the wicked great; but not to their face, not to their own danger and hurt like Jeremiah.  Their plan is to accuse the rich to the poor, on their own platform, or in their own newspaper, where they are safe; and, moreover, to make a very fair profit thereby; to say behind the back of authorities that which they dare not say to their face, and which they soon give up saying when they have worked their own way into office; and meanwhile take mighty credit to themselves for seeing that there is wrong and misery in the world; as if the spirits in hell should fancy themselves righteous, because they hated the devil!  No, my friends, Jeremiah was of a very different spirit from that.  If he ever was tempted to it when he was young, and began to fancy himself a very grand person, who had a right to look down on his neighbours, because God had called him and set him apart to be a prophet from his mother’s womb, and revealed to him the doom of nations, and the secrets of His providence—if he ever fancied that in his heart, God led him through such an education as took all the pride out of him, sternly and bitterly enough.  He was commissioned to go and speak terrible words, to curse kings and nobles in the name of the Lord: but he was taught, too, that it was not a pleasant calling, or one which was likely to pay him in this life.  His fellow-villagers plotted against his life.  His wife deserted him.  The nobles threw him into a dungeon, into a well full of mire, whence he had to be drawn up again with ropes to save his life.  He was beaten, all but starved, kept for years in prison.  He had neither child nor friend.  He had his share of all the miseries of the siege of Jerusalem, and all the horrors of its storm; and when he was set free by Nebuchadnezzar, and clung to his ruined home, to see if any good could still be done to the remnant of his countrymen, he was violently carried off into a heathen land, and at last stoned to death, by those very countrymen of his whom he had been trying for years to save.  In everything, and by everything, he was taught that he was still a Jew, a brother to his sinful brothers; that their sorrows were his sorrows, their shame his shame, their ruin his ruin.  In all their afflictions he was afflicted, even as his Lord was after him.

He struggled, we find, again and again against this strange and sad calling of a prophet.  He cried out in bitter agony that God had deceived him; had induced him to become a prophet, and then repaid him for speaking God’s message with nothing but disappointment and misery.  And yet he felt he must speak; God, he said, was stronger than he was, and forced him to it.  He said: “I will speak no more words in His name; but the Word of the Lord was as fire within his bones, and would not let him rest;” and so, in spite of himself, he told the truth, and suffered for it; and hated to have to tell it, and pitied and loved the very country which he rebuked till he cursed “the day in which he saw the light, and the hour in which it was said to his father, there is a man-child born.”  You who fancy that it is a fine thing, and a paying profession, to be a preacher of righteousness and a rebuker of sin, look at Jeremiah, and judge!  For as surely as you or any other man is sent by God to do Jeremiah’s work, so surely he must expect Jeremiah’s wages.

Do you think, then, that Jeremiah was a man only to be pitied?  Pitiable he was indeed, and sad.  There was One hung on a cross eighteen hundred years ago, more pitiable still: and yet He is the Lord of heaven and earth.  Yes; Jeremiah had a sad life to live, and a sad task to work out; and yet, my friends, was not that a cheap price to pay for the honour and glory of being taught by God’s Spirit, and of speaking God’s words?  I do not mean the mere honour of having his fame and name spread over all Christ’s kingdom; the honour of having his writings read and respected by the wisest and the holiest to the end of time; that mere earthly fame is but a slight matter.  I mean the real honour, the real glory, of knowing what was utterly right and true, and therefore of knowing Him who is utterly right and true; of knowing God; of knowing what God’s character is: that he is a living God, and not a dead one; a God who is near and not absent at all, loving and merciful, just and righteous, strong and mighty to save.  Ay, my friends, this is the lesson which God taught Jeremiah; to know the Lord of heaven and earth, and to see His hand, His rule, in all that was happening to his fellow-countrymen, and himself; to know that from the beginning the Lord, the Saviour-God, Jehovah, the messenger of the covenant, He who brought up the Jews out of Egypt, was the wise and just and loving King of the Jews, and of all the nations upon earth; and that some day or other He must and would conquer all the sinfulness, and misery, and tyranny, and idolatry in the world, and show Himself openly to men, and fulfil all the piteous longings after a just and good king which poor wretches had ever felt, and all the glorious promises of a just and good king which God had made to the wise men of old time; and, therefore, in the midst of shame and persecution, despair and ruin, Jeremiah could rejoice.  Jehoiakim, the wicked king, and all his royal house, might be driven out into slavery; Jerusalem might become a heap of ruins and corpses; the fair land of Judæa, and the village where he was bred, might become thorns, and thistles, and heaps of stones; the vineyard which he loved, the little estate at Anathoth which had belonged to him, might be trodden down by the stranger, and he himself die in a foreign land; around him might be nothing but sin and decay, before him nothing but despair and ruin: yet still there was hope, joy, everlasting certainty for that poor, childless, captive old man; for he had found out that the Lord still lived, the Lord still reigned.  He could not lie; he could not forget his people.  Could a mother forget her sucking child?  No.  When the Jews turned to Him, He would still have mercy.  His punishment of them was a sign that he still cared for them.  If He had forgotten them, He would have let them go on triumphant in their iniquity.  No.  All these afflictions were meant to chasten them, teach them, bring them back to Him.  It would be good for them, an actual blessing to them, to be taken away into captivity in Babylon.  It might be hard to believe, but it must be true.  The Lord of Israel, the Saviour-God, who had been caring for them so long, rising up early and sending His prophets to them, pleading with them as a father with his child, He would have mercy; He would teach them, in sorrow and slavery, the lesson they were too rebellious and hard-hearted to learn in prosperity and freedom: that the Lord was their righteousness, and that there was no other name under heaven which could save them from the plague, and from the famine, from the swords of the Chaldeans, or from the division, and oppression, and brutishness, and manifold wickedness, which was their ruin.  And then Jeremiah saw and felt—how we cannot tell—but there his words, the words of this text, stand to this day, to show that he did see and feel it, that some day or other, in God’s good time, the Jews would have a true King—a very different king from Jehoiakim the tyrant—a son of David in a very different sense from what Jehoiakim was; that He would come, and must come, sooner or later, The unseen King, who had all along been governing Jews and heathens, and telling his prophets that Nebuchadnezzar and Cyrus, the Chaldee and the Persian, were his servants as well as they, and that all the nations of the earth could do but what he chose.  “Behold the days come, saith the Lord, that I will raise unto David a righteous Branch, and a King shall reign and prosper, and shall execute justice and judgment on the earth.”

This was the blessed knowledge which God gave Jeremiah in return for all the misery he had to endure in warning his countrymen of their sins.  And this same blessed knowledge, the knowledge that the earth is the Lord’s, that to Jesus Christ is given, as He said Himself, all power in heaven and earth, and that He is reigning, and must reign, and conquer, and triumph till He has put all His enemies under His feet, God will surely give to everyone, high or low, who follows Jeremiah’s example, who boldly and faithfully warns the sinner of his way, who rebukes the wickedness which he sees around him: only he must do it in the spirit of Jeremiah.  He must not be insolent to the insolent, or proud to the proud.  He must not be puffed up, and fancy that because he sees the evil of sin, and the certain ruin which is the fruit of it, that he is therefore to keep apart from his fellow-countrymen, and despise them in Pharisaic pride.  No.  The truly Christian man, the man who, like Jeremiah, has the Spirit of God in him, will feel the most intense pity and tenderness of sinners.  He will not only rebuke the sins of his people, but mourn for them; he will be afflicted in all their affliction.  However harshly he may have to speak, he will never forget that they are his countrymen, his brothers, children of the same Father, to be judged by the same Lord.  He will feel with shame and fear that he has in himself the root of the very same sins which he sees working death around him—that if others are covetous, he might be so too—if they be profligate, and deceitful, and hypocritical, without God in the world, he might be so too.  And he must feel not only that he might be as bad as his neighbours, but that he actually would be, if God withdrew His Spirit from him for a moment, and allowed him to forget the only faith which saves him from sin, loyalty to his unseen Saviour, the righteous King of kings.  Therefore he will not only rebuke his sinful neighbours; but he will tell them, as Jeremiah told his countrymen, that all their sin and misery proceed from this one thing, that they have forgotten that the Lord is their King.  He will pray daily for them, that the Lord their King may show Himself to their hearts and thoughts, and teach them all that He has done for them, and is doing for them; and may convert them to Himself that they may be truly His people, and His way may be known upon earth, His saving health among all nations.

XXX.

THE PERFECT KING

Tell ye the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy King cometh to thee, meek, and sitting upon an ass, and a colt, the foal of an ass.—Matthew xxi. 5.

You all know that this Sunday is called the First Sunday in Advent.  You all know, I hope, that Advent means coming, and that these four Sundays before Christmas, as I have often told you, are called Advent Sundays, because upon them we are called to consider the coming of our King and Saviour Jesus Christ.  If you will look at the Collects, Epistles, and Gospels for these next four Sundays, you will see at once that they all bear upon our Lord’s coming.  The Gospels tell us of the prophecies about Christ which He fulfilled when He came.  The Epistles tell us what sort of men we ought to be, both clergy and people, because He has come and will come again.  The Collects pray that the Spirit of God would make us fit to live and die in a world into which Christ has come, and in which He is ruling now, and to which He will come again.  The text which I have taken this morning, you just heard in this Sunday’s Gospel.  St. Matthew tells you that Jesus Christ fulfilled it by riding into Jerusalem in state upon an ass’s colt; and St. Matthew surely speaks truth.  Let us consider what the prophecy is, and how Jesus Christ fulfilled it.  Then we shall see and believe from the Epistle what effect the knowledge of it ought to have upon our own souls, and hearts, and daily conduct.

Now this prophecy, “Behold, thy king cometh unto thee,” etc., you will find in your Bibles, in the ninth verse of the ninth chapter of the book of Zechariah.  But I do not think that Zechariah wrote it.  St. Matthew does not say he wrote it; he merely calls it that which was spoken by the prophet, without mentioning his name.  Provided it is an inspired word from God, which it is, it perhaps does not matter to us so much who wrote it: but I think it was written by the prophet Jeremiah, perhaps in the beginning of the reign of the good king Josiah; for the chapter in which this text is, and the two or three chapters which follow, are not at all like the rest of Zechariah’s writings, but exactly like Jeremiah’s.  They certainly seem to speak of things which did not happen in Zechariah’s time, but in the time of Jeremiah, nearly ninety years before.  And, above all, St. Matthew himself seems plainly to have thought that some part, at least, of those chapters was Jeremiah’s writing; for in the twenty-seventh chapter of St. Matthew’s Gospel, and in the ninth verse, you will find a prophecy about the potter’s field, which St. Matthew says was spoken by Jeremiah the prophet.  Now, those words are not in the book of Jeremiah as it stands in our Bibles: but they are in the book of Zechariah, in the eleventh chapter, twelfth and thirteenth verses, coming shortly after my text, and making a part of the same prophecy.  This has puzzled Christians very much, because it seemed as if St. Matthew has made a mistake, and miscalled Zechariah Jeremiah.  But I believe firmly that, as we are bound to expect, St. Matthew made no mistake whatsoever, and that Jeremiah did write that prophecy as St. Matthew said, and the two chapters before it, and perhaps the two after it, and that they were probably kept and preserved by Zechariah during the troublous times of the Babylonish captivity, and at last copied by Nehemiah into Zechariah’s book of prophecy, where they stand now; and I think it is a comfort to know this, and to find that the evangelist St. Matthew has not made a mistake, but knew the Scriptures better than we do.

But I think Jeremiah having written this prophecy in my text, which I believe he did, is also very important, because it will show us what the prophet meant when he spoke it, and how it was fulfilled in his time; and the better we understand that, the better we shall understand how our blessed Lord fulfilled it afterwards.

Now, when Jeremiah was a young man, the Jews and their king Amon were in a state of most abominable wickedness.  They were worshipping every sort of idol and false god.  And the Bible, the book of God’s law, was utterly unknown amongst them; so that Josiah the king, who succeeded Amon, had never seen or heard the book of the law of Moses, which makes part of our Old Testament, till he had reigned eighteen years, as you will find if you refer to 2 Kings xxii. 3.  But this Josiah was a gentle and just prince, and finding the book of the law of God, and seeing the abominable forgetfulness and idolatry into which his people had fallen, utterly breaking the covenant which God had made with their forefathers when he brought them up out of Egypt—when he found the book of the law, I say, and all that he and his people should have done and had not done, and the awful curses which God threatened in that book against those who broke His law, “he humbled himself before God, because his heart was tender, and turned to the Lord, as no king before him had ever turned,” says the scripture, “with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his might; so that there was no such king before him, or either after him.”  The history of the great reformation which this great and good king worked, you may read at length in 2 Kings xxii. xxiii. and 2 Chron. xxxiv. xxxv. which I advise you all to read.

And it appears to me that this prophecy in the text first applies to the gentle and holy king Josiah, the first true and good king the Jews had had for years, and the best they were ever to have till Christ came Himself; and that it speaks of Josiah coming to Jerusalem to restore the worship of God, not with pomp and show, like the wicked kings both before and after him, but in meekness and humbleness of heart, for all the sins of his people, as the prophetess said of him in 2 Kings xxii. 19, “that his heart was tender and humble before the Lord;” neither coming with chariots and guards, like a king and conqueror, but riding upon an ass’s colt; for that was, in those countries, the ancient sign of a man’s being a man of peace, and not of war; a magistrate and lawgiver, and not a soldier and a conqueror.  Various places of holy scripture show us that this was the meaning of riding upon an ass in Judæa, just as it is in Eastern countries now.

But some may say, How then is this a prophecy?  It merely tells us what good king Josiah was, and what every king ought to be.  Well, my friends, that is just what makes it a prophecy.  If it tells you what ought to be, it tells you what will be.  Yes, never forget that; whatever ought to be, surely will be; as surely as this is God’s earth and Christ’s kingdom, and not the devil’s.

Now, it does not matter in the least whether the prophet, when he spoke these words, knew that they would apply to the Lord Jesus Christ.  We have no need whatsoever to suppose that he did: for scripture gives us no hint or warrant that he did; and if we have any real or honest reverence for scripture, we shall be careful to let it tell its own story, and believe that it contains all things necessary for salvation, without our patching our own notions into it over and above.  Wise men are generally agreed that those old prophets did not, for the most part, comprehend the full meaning of their own words.  Not that they were mere puppets and mouthpieces, speaking what to them was nonsense—God forbid!—But that just because they did thoroughly understand what was going on round them, and see things as God saw them, just because they had God’s Eternal Spirit with them, therefore they spoke great and eternal words, which will be true for ever, and will go on for ever fulfilling themselves for more and more.  For in proportion as any man’s words are true, and wide, and deep, they are truer, and wider, and deeper than that man thinks, and will apply to a thousand matters of which he never dreamt.  And so in all true and righteous speech, as in the speeches of the prophets of old, the glory is not man’s who speaks them, but God’s who reveals them, and who fulfils them again and again.

It is true, then, that this text describes what every king should be—gentle and humble, a merciful and righteous lawgiver, not a self-willed and capricious tyrant.  But Josiah could not fulfil that.  He was a good king: but he could not be a perfect one; for he was but a poor, sinful, weak, and inconsistent man, as we are.  But those words being inspired by the Holy Spirit, must be fulfilled.  There ought to be a perfect king, perfectly gentle and humble, having a perfect salvation, a perfect lawgiver; and therefore there must be such a king; and therefore St. Matthew tells us there came at last a perfect king—one who fulfilled perfectly the prophet’s words—one who was not made king of Jerusalem, but was her King from the beginning; for that is the full meaning of “Thy King cometh to thee.”  To Jerusalem He came, riding on the ass’s colt, like the peaceful and fatherly judges of old time, for a sign to the poor souls round Him, who had no lawgivers but the proud and fierce Scribes and Pharisees, no king but the cruel and godless Cæsar, and his oppressive and extortionate officers and troops.  Meek and lowly He came; and for once the people saw that He was the true Son of David—a man and king, like him, after God’s own heart.  For once they felt that He had come in the name of the Lord the old Deliverer who brought them out of the land of Egypt, and made them into a nation, and loved and pitied them still, in spite of all their sins, and remembered His covenant, which they had forgotten.  And before that humble man, the Son of the village maiden, they cried: “Hosanna to the Son of David.  Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord.  Hosanna in the Highest.”

And do you think He came, the true and perfect King, only to go away again and leave this world as it was before, without a law, a ruler, a heavenly kingdom?  God forbid!  Jesus is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.  What He was then, when He rode in triumph into Jerusalem, that is He now to us this day—a king, meek and lowly, and having salvation; the head and founder of a kingdom which can never be moved, a city which has foundations, whose builder and maker is God.  To that kingdom this land of England now belongs.  Into it we, as Englishmen, have been christened.  And the unchristened, though they know not of it, belong to it as well.  What God’s will, what Christ’s mercies may be to them, we know not.  That He has mercy for them, if their ignorance is not their own fault, we doubt not; perhaps, even if their ignorance be their own fault, we need not doubt that He has mercy for them, considering the mercy which He has shown to us, who deserved no more than they.  But His will to us we do know; and His will is this—our holiness.  For He came not only to assert His own power, to redeem his own world, but to set His people, the children of men, an example, that they should follow in His steps.  Herein, too, He is the perfect king.  He leads His subjects, He sets a perfect example to His subjects, and more, He inspires them with the power of following that example, as, if you will think, a perfect ruler ought to be able to do.  Josiah set the Jews an example, but he could not make them follow it.  They turned to God at the bidding of their good king, with their lips, in their outward conduct; but their hearts were still far from Him.  Jeremiah complains bitterly of this in the beginning of his prophecies.  He complains that Josiah’s reformation was after all empty, hollow, hypocritical, a change on the surface only, while the wicked root was left.  They had healed, he said, the hurt of the daughter of his people slightly, crying, “Peace, peace, when there was no peace.”  But Jesus, the perfect King, is King of men’s spirits as well as of their bodies.  He can turn the heart, He can renew the soul.  None so ignorant, none so sinful, none so crushed down with evil habits, but the Lord will and can forgive him, raise him up, enlighten him, strengthen him, if he will but claim his share in his King’s mercy, his citizenship in the heavenly kingdom, and so put himself in tune again with himself, and with heaven, and earth, and all therein.

Keeping in mind these things, that Jesus, because He is our perfect King, is both the example and the inspirer of our souls and characters, we may look without fear at the epistle for the day, where it calls on us to be very different persons from what we are, and declares to us our duty as subjects of Him who is meek and lowly, just and having salvation.  It is no superstitious, slavish message, saying: “You have lost Christ’s mercy and Christ’s kingdom; you must buy it back again by sacrifices, and tears, and hard penances, or great alms-deeds and works of mercy.”  No.  It simply says: “You belong to Christ already, give up your hearts to Him and follow His example.  If He is perfect, His is the example to follow; if he is perfect, His commandments must be perfect, fit for all places, all times, all employments; if He is the King of heaven and earth, His commandments must be in tune with heaven and earth, with the laws of nature, the true laws of society and trade, with the constitution, and business, and duty, and happiness of all mankind, and for ever obey Him.”

Owe no man anything save love, for He owed no man anything.  He gave up all, even His own rights, for a time, for His subjects.  Will you pretend to follow Him while you hold back from your brothers and fellow-servants their just due?  One debt you must always owe; one debt will grow the more you pay it, and become more delightful to owe, the greater and heavier you feel it to be, and that is love; love to all around you, for all around you are your brothers and sisters; all around you are the beloved subjects of your King and Saviour.  Love them as you love yourself, and then you cannot harm them, you cannot tyrannise over them, you cannot wish to rise by scrambling up on their shoulders, taking the bread out of their mouths, making your profit out of their weakness and their need.  This, St. Paul says, was the duty of men in his time, because the night of heathendom was far spent, the day of Christianity and the Church was at hand.  Much more is it our duty now—our duty, who have been born in the full sunshine of Christianity, christened into His church as children, we and our fathers before us, for generations, of the kingdom of God.  Ay, my friends, these words, that kingdom, that King, witness this day against this land of England.  Not merely against popery, the mote which we are trying to take out of the foreigner’s eye, but against Mammon, the beam which we are overlooking in our own.  Owe no man anything save love.  “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”  That is the law of your King, who loved not Himself or His own profit, His own glory, but gave Himself even to death for those who had forgotten Him and rebelled against Him.  That law witnesses against selfishness and idleness in rich and poor.  It witnesses against the employer who grinds down his workmen; who, as the world tells him he has a right to do, takes advantage of their numbers, their ignorance, their low and reckless habits, to rise upon their fall, and grow rich out of their poverty.  It witnesses against the tradesman who tries to draw away his neighbour’s custom.  It witnesses against the working man who spends in the alehouse the wages which might support and raise his children, and then falls back recklessly and dishonestly on the parish rates and the alms of the charitable.  Against them all this law witnesses.  These things are unfit for the kingdom of Christ, contrary to the laws and constitution thereof, hateful to the King thereof; and if a nation will not amend these abominations, the King will arise out of His place, and with sore judgments and terrible He will visit His land and purify His temple, saying: “My Father’s house should be a house of prayer, and ye have made it a den of thieves.”  Ay, woe to any soul, or to any nation, which, instead of putting on the Lord Jesus Christ, copying His example, obeying His laws, and living worthy of His kingdom, not only in the church, but in the market, the shop, the senate, or the palace, give themselves up to covetousness, which is idolatry; and care only to make provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof.  Woe to them; for, let them be what they will, their King cannot change.  He is still meek and lowly; He is still just and having salvation; and He will purge out of His kingdom all that is not like Himself, the unchaste and the idle, the unjust and the unmerciful, and the covetous man, who is an idolater, says the scripture, though he may call himself seven times a Protestant, and rail at the Pope in public meetings, while he justifies greediness and tyranny by glib words about the necessities of business and the laws of trade, and by philosophy falsely so called, which cometh not from above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish.  Such a man loves and makes a lie, and the Lord of truth will surely send him to his own place.

XXXI.

GOD’S WARNINGS

It may be that the house of Judah will hear all the evil which I purpose to do unto them; that they may return every man from his evil way; that I may forgive their iniquity and their sin.—Jeremiah xxxvi. 3.

The first lesson for this evening’s service tells us of the wickedness of Jehoiakim, king of Judah.  How, when Jeremiah’s prophecies against the sins of Jehoiakim and his people were read before him, he cut the roll with a penknife, and threw it into the fire.  Now, we must not look on this story as one which, because it happened among the Jews many hundred years ago, has nothing to do with us; for, as I continually remind you, the history of the Jews, and the whole Old Testament, is the history of God’s dealings with man—the account of God’s plan of governing this world.  Now, God cannot change; but is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever; and therefore His plan of government cannot change: but if men do as those did of whom we read in the Old Testament, God will surely deal with them as He dealt with the men of the Old Testament.  This St. Paul tells us most plainly in the tenth chapter of 1 Corinthians, where he says that the whole history of the Jews was written for our example—that is for the example of those Christian Corinthians, who were not Jews at all, but Gentiles as we are; and therefore for our example also.

He tells them, that it was Christ Himself, the Lord Jesus Christ, who fed and guided the old Jews in the wilderness, and that the Lord will deal with us exactly as He dealt with the old Jews.

Therefore it is a great and fearful mistake, to suppose that because the Jews were a peculiar people and God’s chosen nation, that therefore the Lord’s way of governing them is in any wise different from His way of governing us English at this very day; for that fancy is contrary to the express words of Holy Scripture, in a hundred different places; it is contrary to the whole spirit of our Prayer Book, which is written all through on the belief that the Lord deals with us just as He did with the Jewish nation, and which will not even make sense if it be understood in any other way; and besides, it is most dangerous to the souls and consciences of men.  It is most dangerous for us to fancy that God can change; for if God can change, right and wrong can change; for right is the will of God, and wrong is what is against His will; and if we once let into our hearts the notion that God can change His laws of right, our consciences will become daily dimmer and more confused about right and wrong, till we fall, as too many do, under the prophet’s curse, “Woe to them who call good evil, and evil good; who put sweet for bitter, and bitter for sweet,” and fancy, like Ezekiel’s Jews, that God’s ways are unequal; that is, unlike each other, changeable, arbitrary, and capricious, doing one thing at one time, and another at another.  No.  It is sinful man who is changeable; it is sinful man who is arbitrary.  But The Lord is not a man, that He should lie or repent; for He is the only-begotten Son, and therefore the express likeness, of The Everlasting Father, in whom is no variableness, nor shadow of turning.

But some may say, Is not that a gloomy and terrible notion of God, that He cannot change His purpose?  Is not that as much as to say that there is a dark necessity hanging over each of us; that a man must just be what God chooses, and do just what He has ordained to do, and go to everlasting happiness or misery exactly as God has foreordained from all eternity, so that there is no use trying to do right, or not to do wrong?  If I am to be saved, say such people, I shall be saved whether I try or not; and if I am to be damned, I shall be damned whether I try or not.  I am in God’s hands like clay in the hands of the potter; and what I am like is therefore God’s business, and not mine.

No, my friends, the very texts in the Bible which tell us that God cannot change or repent, tell us what it is that He cannot change in—in showing loving-kindness and tender mercy, long-suffering, and repenting of the evil.  Whatsoever else He cannot repent of, He cannot repent of repenting of the evil.

It is true, we are in His hand as clay in the hand of the potter.  But it is a sad misreading of scripture to make that mean that we are to sit with our hands folded, careless about our own way and conduct; still less that we are to give ourselves up to despair, because we have sinned against God; for what is the very verse which follows after that?  Listen.  “O house of Israel, cannot I do with you as this potter? saith the Lord.  Behold, as the clay is in the hand of the potter, so are ye in my hand, O house of Israel.  At what instant I shall speak concerning a kingdom, to pull down and destroy it; if that nation against whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent of the evil which I thought to do to them.  And at what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to build and to plant it; if it do evil in my sight, that it obey not my voice, then I will repent of the good wherewith I said I would benefit them.”

So that the lesson which we are to draw from the parable of the potter’s clay is just the exact opposite which some men draw.  Not that God’s decrees are absolute: but that they are conditional, and depend on our good or evil conduct.  Not that His election or His reprobation are unalterable, but that they alter “at that instant” at which man alters.  Not that His grace and will are irresistible, as the foolish man against whom St. Paul argues fancies: but that we can resist God’s will, and that our destruction comes only by resisting His will; in short, that God’s will is no brute material necessity and fate, but the will of a living, loving Father.

And the very same lesson is taught us in Ezek. xviii., of which I spoke just now; for if we read that chapter we shall find that the Jews had a false notion of God that He had changed His character, and had become in their time unmerciful and unjust.  They fancied that God was, if I may so speak, obstinate—that if His anger had once arisen, there was no turning it away, but that He would go on without pity, punishing the innocent children for their father’s sin; and therefore they fancied God’s ways were unfair, self-willed, and arbitrary, without any care of what sort of person He afflicted; punishing the righteous as well as the wicked, after He had promised in His law to reward the righteous and punish the wicked.  They fancied that His way of governing the world had changed, and that He did not in their days make a difference between the bad and the good.  Therefore Ezekiel says to them: “When the righteous man turneth away from his righteousness, he shall die.”  “When the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness, he shall live.”  “Have I any pleasure at all that the wicked should die? saith the Lord God, and not that he should return from his ways, and live?”

This, then, is the good news, that God is love; love when He punishes, and love when He forgives; very pitiful, and full of long-suffering and tender mercy and repenting Him, never of the good, but only of the evil which He threatens.

Both Jeremiah, therefore, and Ezekiel, give us the same lesson.  God does not change, and therefore He never changes His mercy and His justice: for He is merciful because He is just.  If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.  That is His everlasting law, and has been from the beginning: Punishment, sure and certain, for those who do not repent; and free forgiveness, sure and certain also, for those who do repent.

So He spoke to Jeremiah in the time of Jehoiakim: “It may be that the house of Judah will hear all the evil that I purpose to do to them; that I may forgive them their iniquity and their sin.”  The Lord, you see, wishes to forgive—longs to forgive.  His heart yearns over sinful men as a father’s over his rebellious child.  But if they will still rebel, if they will still turn their wicked wills away from Him, He must punish.  Why we know not; but He knows.  Punish He must, unless we repent—unless we turn our wills toward His will.  And woe to the stiff-necked and stout-hearted man who, like the wicked king Jehoiakim, sets his face like a flint against God’s warnings.  How many, how many behave for years, Sunday after Sunday, just as king Jehoiakim did!  When he heard that God had threatened him with ruin for his sins, he heard also that God offered him free pardon if he would repent.  Jeremiah gave him free choice to be saved or to be ruined; but his heart and will were hardened.  Hearing that he was wrong only made him angry.  His pride and self-will were hurt by being told that he must change and alter his ways.  He had chosen his way, and he would keep to it; and he cared nothing for God’s offers of forgiveness, because he could not be forgiven unless he did what he was too proud to do, confess himself to be in the wrong, and openly alter his conduct.  And how many, as I first said, are like him!  They come to church; they hear God’s warnings and threats against their evil ways; they hear God’s offers of free pardon and forgiveness; but being told that they are in the wrong makes them too angry to care for God’s offers of pardon.  Pride stops their cars.  They have chosen their own way, and they will keep it.  They would not object to be forgiven, if they might be forgiven without repenting.  But they do not like to confess themselves in the wrong.  They do not like to face their foolish companions’ remarks and sneers about their changed ways.  They do not like even good people to say of them: “You see now that you were in the wrong after all; for you have altered your mind and your doings yourself, as we told you you would have to do.”  No; anything sooner than confess themselves in the wrong; and so they turn their backs on God’s mercy, for the sake of their own carnal pride and self-will.

But, of course, they want an excuse for doing that; and when a man wants an excuse, the devil will soon fit him with a good one.  Then, perhaps, the foolish sinner behaves as Jehoiakim did.  He tries to forget God’s message in the man who brings it.  He grows angry with the preacher, or goes out and laughs at the preacher when service is over, as if it was the preacher’s fault that God had declared what he has; as if it was the preacher’s doing that God has revealed His anger against all sin and unrighteousness.  So he acts like Jehoiakim, who tried to take Jeremiah the prophet and punish him, for what not he but the Lord God had declared.  Nay, they will often peevishly hate the very sight of a good book, because it reminds them of the sins of which they do not choose to be reminded, just as the young king Jehoiakim was childish enough to vent his spite on Jeremiah’s book of prophecies, by cutting the roll on which it was written with a penknife, and throwing it into the fire.  So do sinners who are angry with the preacher who warns them, or hate the sight of good books.  But let such foolish and wilful sinners, such full-grown children—for, after all, they are no better—hear the word of the Lord which came to Jehoiakim: “As it is written, he that despiseth Me shall be despised, saith the Lord.”  And let them not fancy that their shutting their ears will shut the preacher’s mouth, still less shut up God’s everlasting laws of punishment for sin.  No.  God’s word stands true, and it will happen to them as it did to Jehoiakim.  His burning Jeremiah’s book did not rid him of the book, or save him from the woe and ruin which was prophesied in it; for we have Jeremiah’s book here in our Bibles to this day, as a sign and a warning of what happens to men, be they young or old, be they kings or labouring men, who fight against God.  Jeremiah’s words were not lost after all; they were all re-written, and there were added to them also many more like words; for Jehoiakim, by refusing the Lord’s offer of pardon, had added to his sins, and therefore the Lord added to his punishment.

Perhaps, again, the devil finds the wilful sinner another excuse, and the man says to himself, as the Jews did in Ezekiel’s time: “The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge.  It is not my own fault that I am living a bad life, but other people’s.  My parents ought to have brought me up better.  I have had no chance.  My companions taught me too much harm.  I have too much trouble to get my living; or, I was born with a bad temper; or, I can’t help running after pleasure.  Why did God make me the sort of man I am, and put me where I am?  God is hard upon me; He is unfair to me.  His ways are unequal; He expects as much of me as He does of people who have more opportunities.  He threatens to punish me for other people’s sins.”

And then comes another and a darker temptation over the man, and the devil whispers to him such thoughts as these: “God does not care for me; God hates me.  Luck, and everything else is against me.  There seems to be some curse upon me.  Why should I change?  Let God change first to me, and then I will change toward Him.  But God will not change; He is determined to have no mercy on me.  I can see that; for everything goes wrong with me.  Then what use in my repenting?  I will just go my own way, and what must be must.  There is no resisting God’s will.  If I am to be saved, I shall be; if I am to be damned, I shall be.  I will put all melancholy thoughts out of my head, and go and enjoy myself and forget all.  At all events, it won’t last long: ‘Let me eat and drink, for to-morrow I die.’”

Oh, my dear friends, have not some of you sometimes had such thoughts?  Then hear the word of the Lord to you: “When—whensoever—whensoever the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness which he hath committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save his soul alive.”  “Have I any pleasure in the death of him that dieth? saith the Lord, and not rather that he should be converted, and live?”  True, most true, that the Lord is unchangeable: but it is in love and mercy.  True, that God’s will and law cannot alter: but what is God’s will and law?  The soul that sinneth, it shall die?  Yes.  But also, the soul that turneth away from its sin, it shall live.  Never believe the devil when he tells you that God hates you.  Never believe him when he tells you that God has been too hard on you, and put you into such temptation, or ignorance, or poverty, or anything else, that you cannot mend.  No.  That font there will give the devil the lie.  That font says: “Be you poor, tempted, ignorant, stupid, be you what you will, you are God’s child—your Father’s love is over you, His mercy is ready for you.”  You feel too weak to change; ask God’s Spirit, and He will give you a strength of mind you never felt before.  You feel too proud to change; ask God’s Spirit, and He will humble your proud heart, and soften your hard heart; and you will find to your surprise, that when your pride is gone, when you are utterly ashamed of yourself, and see your sins in their true blackness, and feel not worthy to look up to God, that then, instead of pride, will come a nobler, holier, manlier feeling—self-respect, and a clear conscience, and the thought that, weak and sinful as you are, you are in the right way; that God, and the angels of God, are smiling on you; that you are in tune again with all heaven and earth, because you are what God wills you to be—not His proud, peevish, self-willed child, fancying yourself strong enough to go alone, when in reality you are the slave of your own passions and appetites, and the plaything of the devil: but His loving, loyal son, strong in the strength which God gives you, and able to do what you will, because what you will God wills also.

XXXII.

PHARAOH’S HEART

And the heart of Pharaoh was hardened, and he did not let the people go.—Exodus ix. 17.

What lesson, now, can we draw from this story?  One, at least, and a very important one.  What effect did all these signs and wonders of God’s sending, have upon Pharaoh and his servants?  Did they make them better men or worse men?  We read that they made them worse men; that they helped to harden their hearts.  We read that the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, so that he would not let the children of Israel go.  Now, how did the Lord do that?  He did not wish and mean to make Pharaoh more hard-hearted, more wicked.  That is impossible.  God, who is all goodness and love, never can wish to make any human being one atom worse than he is.  He who so loved the world that He came down on earth to die for sinners, and take away the sins of the world, would never make any human being a greater sinner than he was before.  That is impossible, and horrible to think of.  Therefore, when we read that the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, we must be certain that that was Pharaoh’s own fault; and so, we read, it was Pharaoh’s own fault.  The Lord did not bring all these plagues on Egypt without giving Pharaoh fair warning.  Before each plague, He sent Moses to tell Pharaoh that the plague was coming.  The Lord told Pharaoh that He was his Master, and the Master and Lord of the whole earth; that the children of Israel belonged to Him, and the Egyptians too; that the river, light and darkness, the weather, the crops, and the insects, and the locusts belonged to Him; that all diseases which afflict man and beast were in His power.  And the Lord proved that His words were true, in a way Pharaoh could not mistake, by changing the river into blood, and sending darkness, and hailstones, and plagues of lice and flies, and at last by killing the firstborn of all the Egyptians.  The Lord gave Pharaoh every chance; He condescended to argue with him as one man would with another, and proved His word to be true, and proved that He had a right to command Pharaoh.  And therefore, I say, if Pharaoh’s heart was hardened, it was his own fault, for the Lord was plainly trying to soften it, and to bring him to reason.  And the Bible says distinctly that it was Pharaoh’s own fault.  For it says that Pharaoh hardened his own heart, he and his servants, and therefore they would not let the children of Israel go.  Now how could Pharaoh harden his own heart, and yet the Lord harden it at the same time?

Just in the same way, my friends, as too many of us are apt to make the Lord harden our hearts by hardening them ourselves, and to make, as Pharaoh did, the very things which the Lord sends to soften us, the causes of our becoming more stubborn; the very things which the Lord sends to bring us to reason, the means of our becoming more mad and foolish.  Believe me, my friends, this is no old story with which we have nothing to do.  What happened to Pharaoh’s heart may happen to yours, or mine, or any man’s.  Alas! alas! it does happen to many a man’s and woman’s heart every day—and may the Lord have mercy on them before it be too late,—and yet how can the Lord have mercy on those who will not let Him have mercy on them?

What do I mean?  This is what I mean, my friends; Oh, listen to it, and take it solemnly to heart, you who are living still in sin; take it to heart, lest you, like Pharaoh, die in your sins, and your latter end will be worse than your beginning.

Suppose a man to be going on in some sinful habit; cheating his neighbours, grinding his labourers, or getting tipsy, or living with a woman without being married to her.  He comes to church, and there he hears the word of the Lord, by the Bible, or in sermons, telling him that God commands him to give up his sin, that God will certainly punish him if he does not repent and amend.  God sends that message to him in love and mercy, to soften his heart by the terrors of the law, and turn him from his sin.  But what does the man feel?  He feels angry and provoked; angry with the preacher; ay, angry with the Bible itself, with God’s words.  For he hates to hear the words which tell him of his sin; he wishes they were not in the Bible; he longs to stop the preacher’s mouth; and, as he cannot do that, he dislikes going to church.  He says: “I cannot, and what is more, I will not, give up my sinful ways, and therefore I shall not go to church to be told of them.”  So he stops away from church, and goes on in his sins.  So that man’s heart is hardened, just as Pharaoh’s was.  Yet the Lord has come and spoken to that sinful man in loving warnings: though all the effect it has had is that the Lord’s message has made him worse than he was before, more stubborn, more godless, more unwilling to hear what is good.  But men may fall into a still worse state of mind.  They may determine to set the Lord at naught; to hear Him speaking to their conscience, and know that He is right and they wrong, and yet quietly put the good thoughts and feelings out of their way, and go in the course which they know to be the worst.  How many a man in business or the world says to himself, ay, and in his better moments will say to his friend: “Ah, yes, if one could but be what one would wish to be. . . .  What one’s mother used to say one might be. . . .  But for such a world as this, the gospel ideal is somewhat too fine and unpractical.  One has one’s business to carry on, or one’s family to provide for, or one’s party in politics to serve; one must obey the laws of trade, the usages of society, the interests of one’s class;” and so forth.  And so an excuse is found for every sin, by those who know in their hearts that they are sinning; for every sin; and among others, too often, for that sin of Pharaoh’s, of “not letting the people go.”

And how many, my friends, when they come to church, harden their hearts in the same quiet, almost good-humoured way, not caring enough for God’s message to be even angry with it, and take the preacher’s warnings as they would a shower of rain, as something unpleasant which cannot be helped; and which, therefore, they must sit out patiently, and think about it as little as possible?  And when the sermon is over, they take their hats and go out into the churchyard, and begin talking about something else as quickly as possible, to drive the unpleasant thoughts, if there are a few left, out of their heads.  And thus they let the Lord’s message to them harden their hearts.  For it does harden them, my friends, if it be taken in this temper.  Every time anyone sits through the service or the sermon in this stupid and careless mood, he dulls and deadens his soul, till at last he is able coolly to sit through the most awful warnings of God’s judgment, the most tender entreaties of God’s love, as if he were a brute animal without understanding.  Ay, he is able to make the responses to the commandments, and join in the psalms, and so with his own mouth, before the whole congregation, confess that God’s curse is on his doings, with no more sense or care of what the words mean, and of what a sentence he is pronouncing against himself, than if he were a parrot taught to speak by rote words which he does not understand.  And so that man, by hardening his own heart, makes the Lord harden it for him.

But there is a third way, and a worse way still, in which people’s hearts are hardened by the Lord’s speaking to them.  A man is warned of his sins by the preacher; and he says to himself: “If the minister thinks that he is going to frighten me away from church, he is very much mistaken.  He may go his way, and I shall go mine.  Let him preach at me as much as he will; I shall go to church all the more for that, to show him that I am not afraid.”  And so the Lord’s warnings harden his heart, and provoke him to set his face like a flint, and become all the more proud and stubborn.

Now, young people, I speak openly to you as man to man.  Will you tell me that this was not the very way in which some of you took my sermon last Sunday afternoon, in which I warned you of the misery which your sinful lives would bring upon you?  Was there not more than one of you, who, as soon as he got outside the church, began laughing and swaggering, and said to the lad next him: “Well, he gave it us well in his sermon this afternoon, did he not?  But I don’t care; do you?”

To which the other foolish fellow answered: “Not I.  It is his business to talk like that; he is paid for it, and I suppose he likes it.  So if he does what he likes, we shall do what we like.  Come along.”  And at that all the other foolish fellows round burst out laughing, as if the poor lad had said a very clever thing; and they all went off together, having their hearts hardened by the Lord’s warning to them, as Pharaoh’s was.

And they showed, I am afraid, that very evening that their hearts were hardened.  For out of a sort of spite and stubbornness they took a delight in doing what was wrong, just because they had been told that it was wrong, and because they were determined to show that they would not be frightened or turned from what they chose.

And all the while they knew that it was wrong, did those poor foolish lads.  If you had asked one of them openly, “Do you not know that God has forbidden you to do this?” they would have either been forced to say, “Yes,” or else they would have tried to laugh the matter off, or perhaps held their tongues and looked silly, or perhaps again answered insolently; showing by each and all of these ways of taking it, that the Lord’s message had come home to their consciences, and convinced them of their sin, though they were determined not to own it or obey it.  And the way they would have put the matter by and excused themselves to themselves would have been just the way in which Pharaoh did it.  They would have tried to forget that the Lord had warned them, and tried to make out to themselves that it was all the preacher’s doing, and to make it a personal quarrel between him and them.  Just so Pharaoh did when he hardened his heart.  He made the Lord’s message a ground for hating and threatening Moses and Aaron, as if it was any fault of theirs.  He knew in his heart that the Lord had sent them; but he tried to forget that, and drove them out from his presence, and told them that if they dared to appear before him again they should surely die.  And just so, my friends, people will be angry with the preacher for telling them unpleasant truths, as if it was any more pleasure to him to speak than for them to hear.  Oh, why will you forget that the words which I speak from this pulpit are not my words, but God’s?  It is not I who warn you of what you are bringing on yourselves by your sins, it is God Himself.  There it is written in His Bible—judge for yourselves.  Read your Bibles for yourselves, and you will see that I am not speaking my own thoughts and words.  And as for being angry with me for telling you truth, read the ordination service which is read whenever a clergyman is ordained, and judge for yourselves.  What is a clergyman sent into the world for at all, but to say to you what I am saying now?  What should I be but a hypocrite and a traitor to the blessed Lord who died for me, and saved me from my sins, and ordained me to preach to sinners, that they too may be saved from their sins,—what should I be but a traitor to Him, if I did not say to you, whenever I see you going wrong: