‘Which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first
and counteth the cost?’ (Luke 14:28.)
The text which heads this page is one of great importance. Few are the
people who are not often obliged to ask themselves, ‘What does it cost?’
In buying property, in building houses, in furnishing rooms, in
forming plans, in changing dwellings, in educating children, it is wise
and prudent to look forward and consider. Many would save themselves
much sorrow and trouble if they would only remember the question;
‘What does it cost?’
But there is one subject on which it is specially important to count
the cost. That subject is the salvation of our souls. What does it cost to
be a true Christian? What does it cost to be a really holy man? This,
after all, is the grand question. For want of thought about this,
thousands, after seeming to begin well, turn away from the road to
heaven, and are lost for ever in hell. Let me try to say a few words
which may throw light on the subject.
1. I will show, firstly, what it costs to be a true Christian.
2. I will explain, secondly, why it is of such great importance to
count the cost.
3. I will give, in the last place, some hints which may help men to
count the cost rightly.
We are living in strange times. Events are hurrying on with singular
rapidity. We never know ‘what a day may bring forth’; how much less
do we know what may happen in a year! We live in a day of great
religious profession. Scores of professing Christians in every part of the
land are expressing a desire for more holiness and a higher degree of
Spiritual life. Yet nothing is more common than to see people receiving
the Word with joy, and then after two or three years falling away, and
going back to their sins. They had not considered what it costs to be a
really consistent believer and holy Christian. Surely these are times
when we ought often to sit down and count the cost, and to consider
the state of our souls. We must mind what we are about. If we desire to
be truly holy, it is a good sign. We may thank God for putting the
desire into our hearts. But still the cost ought to be counted. No doubt
Christ’s way to eternal life is a way of pleasantness. But it is folly to
shut our eyes to the fact that His way is narrow, and the cross comes
before the crown.
1. The cost of being a true Christian
I have, first, to show what it costs to be a true Christian.
Let there be no mistake about my meaning. I am not examining
what it costs to save a Christian’s soul. I know well that it costs nothing
less than the blood of the Son of God to provide an atonement and to
redeem man from hell. The price paid for our redemption was nothing
less than the death of Jesus Christ . . . on Calvary. We ‘are bought with
a price’. ‘Christ gave Himself a ransom for all’ (1 Cor. 6:20; 1 Tim. 2:6).
But all this is wide of the question. The point I want to consider is
another one altogether. It is what a man must be ready to give up if he
wishes to be saved. It is the amount of sacrifice a man must submit to if
he intends to serve Christ. It is in this sense that I raise the question:
‘What does it cost?’ And I believe firmly that it is a most important one.
I grant freely that it costs little to be a mere outward Christian. A
man has only got to attend a place of worship twice on Sunday, and to
be tolerably moral during the week, and he has gone as far as thousands
around him ever go in religion. All this is cheap and easy work: it
entails no self-denial or self-sacrifice. If this is saving Christianity, and
will take us to heaven when we die, we must alter the description of the
way of life, and write, ‘Wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads
to heaven!’
But it does cost something to be a real Christian, according to the
standard of the Bible. There are enemies to be overcome, battles to be
fought, sacrifices to be made, an Egypt to be forsaken, a wilderness to
be passed through, a cross to be carried, a race to be run. Conversion is
not putting a man in an armchair and taking him easily to heaven. It is
the beginning of a mighty conflict, in which it costs much to win the
victory. Hence arises the unspeakable importance of ‘counting the cost’.
Let me try to show precisely and particularly what it costs to be a
true Christian. Let us suppose that a man is disposed to take service
with Christ and feels drawn and inclined to follow Him. Let us suppose
that some affliction or some sudden death or an awakening sermon has
stirred his conscience, and made him feel the value of his soul and
desire to be a true Christian. No doubt there is everything to encourage
him. His sins may be freely forgiven, however many and great. His heart
may be completely changed, however cold and hard. Christ and the
Holy Spirit, mercy and grace, are all ready. for him. But still he should
count the cost. Let us see particularly, one by one, the things that his
religion will cost him.
1. For one thing, it will cost him his self-righteousness. He must
cast away all pride and high thoughts, and conceit of his own goodness.
He must be content to go to heaven as a poor sinner saved only by free
grace, and owing all to the merit and righteousness of another. He must
really feel as well as say the Prayer Book words, that he has ‘erred and
gone astray like a lost sheep,’ that he has ‘left undone the things he
ought to have done, and that there is no health in him’. He must be
willing to give up all trust in his own morality, respectability, praying,
Bible reading, church-going, and sacrament receiving, and to trust in
nothing but Jesus Christ.
Now this sounds hard to some. I do not wonder. ‘Sir,’ said a godly
ploughman to the well-known James Hervey, of Weston Favell, ‘it is
harder to deny proud self than sinful self. But it is absolutely necessary.’
Let us set down this item first and foremost in our account. To be a true
Christian it will cost a man his self-righteousness.
2. For another thing, it will cost a man his sins. He must be willing
to give up every habit and practice which is wrong in God’s sight. He
must set his face against it, quarrel with it, break off from it, fight with
it, crucify it and labour to keep it under, whatever the world around
him may say or think. He must do this honestly and fairly. There must
be no separate truce with any special sin which he loves. He must count
all sins as his deadly enemies, and hate every false way. Whether little or
great, whether open or secret, all his sins must be thoroughly renounced.
They may struggle hard with him every day, and sometimes almost get
the mastery over him. But he must never give way to them. He must
keep up a perpetual war with his sins. It is written, ‘Cast away from you
all your transgressions.’ ‘Break off thy sins . . . and iniquities.’ ‘Cease to
do evil’ (Ezek. 18:31; Dan. 4:27; Isa. 1:16).
This also sounds hard. I do not wonder. Our sins are often as dear to
us as our children: we love them, hug them, cleave to them and delight
in them. To part with them is as hard as cutting off a right hand or
plucking out a right eye. But it must be done. The parting must come.
‘Though wickedness be sweet in the sinner’s mouth, though he hide it
under his tongue; though he spare it, and forsake it not,’ yet it must be
given up, if he wishes to be saved (Job 20:12, 13). He and sin must
quarrel, if he and God are to be friends. Christ is willing to receive any
sinners. But He will not receive them if they will stick to their sins. Let
us set down that item second in our account. To be a Christian it will
cost a man his sins.
3. For another thing, it will cost a man his love of ease. He must
take pains and trouble, if he means to run a successful race towards
heaven. He must daily watch and stand on his guard, like a soldier on
enemy's ground. He must take heed to his behaviour every hour of the
day, in every company and in every place, in public as well as in private,
among strangers as well as at home. He must be careful over his time,
his tongue, his temper, his thoughts, his imagination, his motives, his
conduct in every relation of life. He must be diligent about his prayers,
his Bible reading, and his use of Sundays, with all their means of grace.
In attending to these things he may come far short of perfection; but
there is none of them that he can safely neglect. ‘The soul of the
sluggard desireth, and hath nothing: but the soul of the diligent shall
be made fat’ (Prov. 13:4).
This also sounds hard. There is nothing we naturally dislike so much
as ‘trouble’ about our religion. We hate trouble. We secretly wish we
could have a vicarious Christianity, and could be good by proxy, and
have everything done for us. Anything that requires exertion and labour
is entirely against the grain of our hearts. But the soul can have ‘no
gains without pains’. Let us set down that item third in our account. To
be a Christian it will cost a man his love of ease.
4. In the last place, it will cost a man the favour of the world. He
must be content to be thought ill of by man if he pleases God. He must
count it no strange thing to be mocked, ridiculed, slandered, persecuted
and even hated. He must not be surprised to find his opinions and
practices in religion despised and held up to scorn. He must submit to
be thought by many a fool, an enthusiast and a fanatic, to have his
words perverted and his actions misrepresented. In fact, he must not
marvel if some call him mad. The Master says, ‘Remember the word
that I said unto you, “The servant is not greater than his Lord.” If they
have persecuted Me, they will also persecute you; if they have kept My
saying, they will keep yours also’ (John 15:20).
I dare say this also sounds hard. We naturally dislike unjust dealing
and false charges, and think it very hard to be accused without cause.
We should not be flesh and blood if we did not wish to have the good
opinion of our neighbours. It is always unpleasant to be spoken against
and forsaken and lied about and to stand alone. But there is no help for
it. The cup which our Master drank must be drunk by His disciples.
They must be ‘despised and rejected of men’ (Isa. 53:3). Let us set
down that item last in our account. To be a Christian it will cost a man
the favour of the world.
Such is the account of what it costs to be a true Christian. I grant
the list is a heavy one. But where is the item that could be removed?
Bold indeed must that man be who would dare to say that we may keep
our self-righteousness, our sins, our laziness and our love of the world,
and yet be saved!
I grant it costs much to be 'a true Christian. But who in his sound
senses can doubt that it is worth any cost to ‘have the soul saved? When
the ship is in danger of sinking, the crew think nothing of casting
overboard the precious cargo. When a limb is mortified, a man will
submit to any severe operation, and even to amputation, to save life.
Surely a Christian should be willing to give up anything which stands
between him and heaven. A religion that costs nothing is worth nothing!
A cheap Christianity, without a cross, will prove in the end a useless
Christianity, without a crown.
2. The importance of counting the cost
I have now, in the second place, to explain why counting the cost is
of such great importance to man’s soul.
I might easily settle this question by laying down the principle that
no duty enjoined by Christ can ever be neglected without damage. I
might show how many shut their eyes throughout life to the nature of
saving religion, and refuse to consider what it really costs to be a
Christian. I might describe how at last, when life is ebbing away, they
wake up and make a few spasmodic efforts to turn to God. I might tell
you how they find to their amazement, that repentance and conversion
are no such easy matters as they had supposed, and that it costs ‘a great
sum’ to be a true Christian. They discover that habits of pride and
sinful indulgence and love of ease and worldliness are not so easily laid
aside as they had dreamed. And so, after a faint struggle, they give up in
despair, and leave the world hopeless, graceless and unfit to meet God!
They had flattered themselves all their days that religion would be easy
work when they once took it up seriously. But they open their eyes too
late, and discover for the first time that they are ruined because they
never counted the cost.
But there is one class of persons to whom especially I wish to
address myself in handling this part of my subject. It is a large class, an
increasing class, and a class which in these days is in peculiar danger.
Let me in a few plain words try to describe this class. It deserves our
best attention.
The persons I speak of are not thoughtless about religion; they think
a good deal about it. They are not ignorant of religion; they know the
outlines of it pretty well. But their great defect is that they are not
‘rooted and grounded’ in their faith. Too often they have picked up
their knowledge second-hand, from being in religious families, or from
being trained in religious ways, but have never worked it out by their
own inward experience. Too often they have hastily taken up a
profession of religion under the pressure of circumstances, from
sentimental feelings, from animal excitement or from a vague desire to
do like others around them, but without any solid work of grace in
their hearts. Persons like these are in a position of immense danger.
They are precisely those, if Bible examples are worth anything, who
need to be exhorted to count the cost.
For want of counting the cost, myriads of the children of Israel
perished miserably in the wilderness between Egypt and Canaan. They
left Egypt full of zeal and fervour as if nothing could stop them. But
when they found dangers and difficulties in the way, their courage soon
cooled down. They had never reckoned on trouble. They had thought
the promised land would be all before them in a few days. And so when
enemies, privations, hunger and thirst began to try them, they
murmured against Moses and God and would fain have gone back to
Egypt. In a word, they had not counted the cost, and so lost everything,
and died in their sins.
For want of counting the cost, many of our Lord Jesus Christ’s
hearers went back after a time, and ‘walked no more with Him’ (John
6:66). When they first saw His miracles, and heard His preaching, they
thought ‘the kingdom of God would immediately appear’. They cast in
their lot with His apostles, and followed Him without thinking of the
consequences. But when they found that there were hard doctrines to
he believed and hard work to be done and hard treatment to be borne,
their faith gave way entirely and proved to be nothing at all. In a word,
they had not counted the cost, and so made shipwreck of their
profession.
For want of counting the cost, King Herod returned to his old sins,
and destroyed his soul. He liked to hear John the Baptist preach. He
observed and honoured him as a just and holy man. He even ‘did many
things’ which were right and good. But when he found that he must
give up his darling Herodias, his religion entirely broke down. He had
not reckoned on this. He had not counted the cost (Mark 6:20).
For want of counting the cost, Demas forsook the company of St
Paul, forsook the gospel, forsook Christ, forsook heaven. For a long
time he journeyed with the great apostle of the Gentiles, and was
actually a ‘fellow-labourer’. But when he found he could not have the
friendship of this world as well as the friendship of God, he gave up his
Christianity and clave to the world. ‘Demas hath forsaken me,’ says St
Paul, ‘having loved this present world’ (2 Tim. 4:10). He had not
‘counted the cost’.
For want of counting the cost, the hearers of powerful evangelical
preachers often come to miserable ends. They are stirred and excited
into professing what they have not really experienced. They receive the
Word with a ‘joy’ so extravagant that it almost startles old Christians.
They run for a time with such zeal and fervour that they seem likely to
outstrip all others. They talk and work for spiritual objects with such
enthusiasm that they make older believers feel ashamed. But when the
novelty and freshness of their feelings is gone, a change comes over
them. They prove to have been nothing more than stony-ground hearers.
The description the great Master gives in the parable of the sower is
exactly exemplified: ‘Temptation or persecution arises because of the
Word, and they are offended’ (Matt. 13:21). Little by little their zeal
melts away and their love becomes cold. By and by their seats are
empty in the assembly of God’s people, and they are heard of no more
among Christians. And why? They had never counted the cost.
For want of counting the cost, hundreds of professed converts,
under religious revivals, go back to the world after a time and bring
disgrace on religion. They begin with a sadly mistaken notion of what
is true Christianity. They fancy it consists in nothing more than a
so-called ‘coming to Christ’, and having strong inward feelings of joy and
peace. And so when they find, after a time, that there is a cross to be
carried, that our hearts are deceitful, and that there is a busy devil
always near us, they cool down in disgust, and return to their old sins.
And why? Because they had really never known what Bible Christianity
is. They had never learned that we must count the cost.1
For want of counting the cost, the children of religious parents often
turn out ill and bring disgrace on Christianity. Familiar from their
earliest years with the form and theory of the gospel, taught even from
infancy to repeat great leading texts, accustomed every week to be
instructed in the gospel, or to instruct others in Sunday schools, they
often grow up professing a religion without knowing why, or without
ever having thought seriously about it. And then when the realities of
grown-up life begin to press upon them, they often astound every one
by dropping all their religion, and plunging right into the world. And
why? They had never thoroughly understood the sacrifices which
Christianity entails. They had never been taught to count the cost.
These are solemn and painful truths. But they are truths. They all
help to show the immense importance of the subject I am now
considering. They all point out the absolute necessity of pressing the
subject of this paper on all who profess a desire for holiness, and of
crying aloud in all the churches, ‘Count the cost.’
I am bold to say that it would be well if the duty of counting the
cost were more frequently taught than it is. Impatient hurry is the
order of the day with many religionists. Instantaneous conversions, and
immediate sensible peace, are the only results they seem to care for
from the gospel. Compared with these all other things are thrown into
the shade. To produce them is the grand end and object, apparently,
of all their labours. I say without hesitation that such a naked,
one-sided mode of teaching Christianity is mischievous in the extreme.
Let no one mistake my meaning. I thoroughly approve of offering
men a full, free, present, immediate salvation in Christ Jesus. I
thoroughly approve of urging on man the possibility and the duty of
immediate instantaneous conversion. In these matters I give place to no
one. But I do say that these truths ought not to be set before men
nakedly, singly and alone. They ought to be told honestly what it is
they are taking up, if they profess a desire to come out from the world
and serve Christ. They ought not to be pressed into the ranks of Christ's
army without being told what the warfare entails. In a word, they
should be told honestly to count the cost.
Does anyone ask what our Lord Jesus Christ's practice was in this
matter? Let him read what St Luke records. He tells us that, on a
certain occasion, ‘There went great multitudes with Him: and He
turned, and said unto them, “If any come to Me, and hate not his
father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters,
yea, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple. And whosoever
doth not bear his cross and come after Me, cannot be My disciple”’
(Luke 14:25—27). I must plainly say that I cannot reconcile this passage
with the proceedings of many modern religious teachers. And yet, to
my mind, the doctrine of it is as clear as the sun at noonday. It shows
us that we ought not to hurry men into professing discipleship, without
warning them plainly to count the cost.
Does anyone ask what the practice of the eminent and best
preachers of the gospel has been in days gone by? I am bold to say that
they have all with one mouth borne testimony to the wisdom of our
Lord’s dealing with the multitudes to which I have just referred. Luther
and Latimer and Baxter and Wesley and Whitefield, and Berridge and
Rowland Hill were all keenly alive to the deceitfulness of man's heart.
They knew full well that all is not gold that glitters, that conviction is
not conversion, that feeling is not faith, that sentiment is not grace,
that all blossoms do not come to fruit. ‘Be not deceived,’ was their
constant cry. ‘Consider well what you do. Do not run before you are
called. Count the cost.’
If we desire to do good, let us never be ashamed of walking in the
steps of our Lord Jesus Christ. Work hard if you will, and have the
opportunity, for the souls of others. Press them to consider their ways.
Compel them with holy violence to come in, to lay down their arms
and to yield themselves to God. Offer them salvation, ready, free, full,
immediate salvation. Press Christ and all His benefits on their
acceptance. But in all your work tell the truth, and the whole truth.
Be ashamed to use the vulgar arts of a recruiting sergeant. Do not speak
only of the uniform, the pay and the glory; speak also of the enemies,
the battle, the armour, the watching, the marching and the drill. Do not
present only one side of Christianity. Do not keep back the cross of
self-denial that must be carried, when you speak of the cross on which
Christ died for our redemption. Explain fully what Christianity entails.
Entreat men to repent and come to Christ; but bid them at the same
time to count the cost.
3. Some hints
The third and last thing which I proposed to do, is to give some hints
which may help men to count the cost rightly.
Sorry indeed should I be if I did not say something on this branch of
my subject. I have no wish to discourage anyone, or to keep anyone
back from Christ’s service. It is my heart’s desire to encourage everyone
to go forward and take up the cross. Let us count the cost by all means,
and count it carefully. But let us remember, that if we count rightly,
and look on all sides, there is nothing that need make us afraid.
Let me mention some things which should always enter into our
calculations in counting the cost of true Christianity. Set down honestly
and fairly what you will have to give up and go through, if you become
Christ’s disciple. Leave nothing out. Put it all down. But then set down
side by side the following sums which I am going to give you. Do this
fairly and correctly, and I am not afraid for the result.
a. Count up and compare, for one thing, the profit and the loss, if
you are a true-hearted and holy Christian. You may possibly lose
something in this world, but you will gain the salvation of your immortal
soul. It is written: ‘What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole
world, and lose his own soul?’ (Mark 8:36.)
b. Count up and compare for another thing, the praise and the
blame, if you are a true-hearted and holy Christian. You may possibly
be blamed by man, but you will have the praise of God the Father, God
the Son and God the Holy Ghost. Your blame will come from the lips
of a few erring, blind, fallible men and women. Your praise will come
from the King of kings and Judge of all the earth. It is only those whom
He blesses who are really blessed. It is written: ‘Blessed are ye when
men shall revile you, and persecute you, and say all manner of evil
against you falsely, for My sake. Rejoice and be exceeding glad: for
great is your reward in heaven’ (Matt. 5:11, 12).
c. Count up and compare, for another thing, the friends and the
enemies, if you are a true-hearted and holy Christian. On the one side
of you is the enmity of the devil and the wicked. On the other, you
have the favour and friendship of the Lord Jesus Christ. Your enemies,
at most, can only bruise your heel. They may rage loudly, and compass
sea and land to work your ruin; but they cannot destroy you. Your
Friend is able to save to the uttermost all them that come unto God by
Him. None shall ever pluck His sheep out of His hand. It is written: ‘Be
not afraid of them that kill the body, and after that have no more that
they can do. But I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear: fear Him,
which after He hath killed hath power to cast into hell; yea, I say unto
you, fear Him’ (Luke 12:5).
d. Count up and compare, for another thing, the life that now is and
the life to come, if you are a true-hearted and holy Christian. The time
present, no doubt, is not a time of ease. It is a time of watching and
praying, fighting and struggling, believing and working. But it is only
for a few years. The time future is the season of rest and refreshing. Sin
shall be cast out. Satan shall be bound. And, best of all, it shall be a rest
for ever. It is written: ‘Our light affliction, which is but for a moment,
worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while
we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are
not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things
which are not seen are eternal’ (2 Cor. 4:17, 18).
e. Count up and compare, for another thing, the pleasures of sin and
the happiness of God’s service, if you are a true-hearted and holy
Christian. The pleasures that the worldly man gets by his ways are
hollow, unreal and unsatisfying. They are like the fire of thorns,
flashing and crackling for a few minutes, and then quenched for ever.
The happiness that Christ gives to His people is something solid, lasting
and substantial. It is not dependent on health or circumstances. It never
leaves a man, even in death. It ends in a crown of glory that fadeth not
away. It is written: ‘The joy of the hypocrite [is] but for a moment.’
‘As the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool’
(Job 20:5; Eccles. 7:6). But it is also written: ‘Peace I leave with you,
My peace give I unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let
not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid’ (John 14:27).
f. Count up and compare, for another thing, the trouble that true
Christianity entails, and the troubles that are in store for the wicked
beyond the grave. Grant for a moment that Bible reading and praying
and repenting and believing and holy living require pains and self-denial.
It is all nothing compared to that wrath to come which is stored up for
the impenitent and unbelieving. A single day in hell will be worse than a
whole life spent in carrying the cross. The ‘worm that never dies, and
the fire that is not quenched’ are things which it passes man’s power to
conceive fully or describe. It is written: ‘Son, remember that thou in
thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things;
but now he is comforted and thou art tormented’ (Luke 16:25).
g. Count up and compare, in the last place, the number of those
who turn from sin and the world and serve Christ, and the number of
those who forsake Christ and return to the world. On the one side you
will find thousands; on the other you will find none. Multitudes are
every year turning out of the broad way and entering the narrow. None
who really enter the narrow way grow tired of it and return to the
broad. The footsteps in the downward road are often to be seen turning
out of it. The footsteps in the road to heaven are all one way, It is
written: ‘The way of the wicked is . . . darkness.’ ‘The way of
transgressors is hard’ (Prov. 4:19; 13:15). But it is also written; ‘The
path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto
the perfect day’ (Prov. 4:18).
Such sums as these, no doubt, are often not done correctly. Not a
few, I am well aware, are ever ‘halting between two opinions’. They
cannot make up their minds that it is worthwhile to serve Christ. the
losses and gains, the advantages and disadvantages, the sorrows and the
joys, the helps and the hindrances appear to them so nearly balanced
that they cannot decide for God. They cannot do this great sum
correctly. They cannot make the result so clear as it ought to be. They
do not count right.
But what is the secret of their mistakes? It is want of faith. To come
to a right conclusion about our souls, we must have some of that
mighty principle which St Paul describes in the eleventh chapter of his
Epistle to the Hebrews. Let me try to show how that principle operates
in the great business of counting the cost.
How was it that Noah persevered in building the ark? He stood alone
amidst a world of sinners and unbelievers. He had to endure scorn,
ridicule and mockery. What was it that nerved his arm, and made him
patiently work on and face it all? It was faith. He believed in a wrath to
come. He believed that there was no safety, excepting in the ark that he
was preparing. Believing, he held the world’s opinion very cheap. He
counted the cost by faith, and had no doubt that to build the ark win
gain.
How was it that Moses forsook the pleasures of Pharaoh’s house, and
refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter? How was it that he
cast in his lot with a despised people like the Hebrews, and risked
everything in this world in carrying out the great work of their deliverance
from bondage? To the eye of sense he was losing everything and gaining
nothing. What was it that moved him? It was faith. He believed that the
‘recompense of reward’ was far better than all the honours of Egypt
He counted the cost by faith, as ‘seeing Him that is invisible’, and was
persuaded that to forsake Egypt and go forth into the wilderness was
gain.
How was it that Saul the Pharisee could ever make up his mind to
become a Christian? The cost and sacrifices of the change were fearfully
great. He gave up all his brilliant prospects among his own people. He
brought on himself, instead of man’s favour, man’s hatred, man’s enmity
and man’s persecution, even unto death. What was it that enabled him
to face it all? It was faith. He believed that Jesus, who met him on the
way to Damascus, could give him a hundredfold more than he gave up,
and in the world to come everlasting life. By faith he counted the cost,
and saw clearly on which side the balance lay. He believed firmly that
to carry the cross of Christ was gain.
Let us mark well these things. That faith which made Noah, Moses
and St Paul do what they did, that faith is the great secret of coming to
a right conclusion about our souls. That same faith must be our helper
and ready-reckoner, when we sit down to count the cost of being a true
Christian. That same faith is to be had for the asking. ‘He giveth more
grace’ (James 4:6). Armed with that faith we shall set things down at
their true value. Filled with that faith we shall neither add to the cross
nor subtract from the crown. Our conclusions will be all correct. Our
sum total will be without error.
1. In conclusion, let every reader of this paper think seriously,
whether his religion costs him anything at present. Very likely it costs
you nothing. Very probably it neither costs you trouble, nor time, nor
thought, nor care, nor pains, nor reading, nor praying, nor self-denial,
nor conflict, nor working, nor labour of any kind. Now mark what I
say. Such a religion as this will never save your soul. It will never give
you peace while you live, nor hope while you die. It will not support
you in the day of affliction, nor cheer you in the hour of death. A
religion which costs nothing is worth nothing. Awake before it is too
late. Awake and repent. Awake and be converted. Awake and believe.
Awake and pray. Rest not till you can give a satisfactory answer to my
question: ‘What does it cost?’
2. Think, if you want stirring motives for serving God, what it cost
to provide a salvation for your soul. Think how the Son of God left
heaven and became Man, suffered on the cross and lay in the grave, to
pay your debt to God, and work out for you a complete redemption.
Think of all this and learn that it is no light matter to possess an
immortal soul. It is worthwhile to take some trouble about one’s soul.
Ah, lazy man or woman, is it really come to this, that you will miss
heaven for lack of trouble? Are you really determined to make
shipwreck for ever, from mere dislike to exertion? Away with the cowardly,
unworthy thought. Arise and play the man. Say to yourself, ‘Whatever
it may cost, I will, at any rate, strive to enter in at the strait gate.’ Look
at the cross of Christ, and take fresh courage. Look forward to death,
judgement and eternity, and be in earnest. It may cost much to be a
Christian, but you may be sure it pays.
3. If any reader of this paper really feels that he has counted the
cost, and taken up the cross, I bid him persevere and press on. I dare
say you often feel your heart faint, and are sorely tempted to give up in
despair. Your enemies seem so many, your besetting sins so strong, your
friends so few, the way so steep and narrow, you hardly know what to
do. But still I say, persevere and press on.
The time is very short. A few more years of watching and praying,
a few more tossings on the sea of this world, a few more deaths and
changes, a few more winters and summers, and all will be over. We shall
have fought our last battle, and shall need to fight no more.
The presence and company of Christ will make amends for all we
suffer here below. When we see as we have been seen, and look back on
the journey of life, we shall wonder at our own faintness of heart. We
shall marvel that we made so much of our cross, and thought so little of
our crown. We shall marvel that in ‘counting the cost’ we could ever
doubt on which side the balance of profit lay. Let us take courage. We
are not far from home. It may cost much to be a true Christian and a
consistent holy man; but it pays.
1I should be very sorry indeed if the language I have used above about revivals
was misunderstood. To prevent this I will offer a few remarks by way of
explanation.
For true revivals of religion no one can be more deeply thankful than I am.
Wherever they may take place, and by whatever agents they may be effected, I
desire to bless God for them with all my heart. ‘If Christ is preached,’ I rejoice,
whoever may be the preacher. If souls are saved, I rejoice, by whatever section of
the church the Word of life has been ministered.
But it is a melancholy fact that, in a world like this, you cannot have good
without evil. I have no hesitation in saying, that one consequence of the revival
movement has been the rise of a theological system which I feel obliged to call
defective and mischievous in the extreme.
The leading feature of the theological system I refer to, is this: an extravagant
and disproportionate magnifying of three points in religion — namely, instantaneous
conversion; the invitation of unconverted sinners to come to Christ; and
the possession of inward joy and peace as a test of conversion. I repeat that these
three grand truths (for truths they are) are so incessantly and exclusively brought
forward in some quarters that great harm is done.
Instantaneous conversion, no doubt, ought to be pressed on people. But
surely they ought not to be led to suppose that there is no other sort of conversion,
and that unless they are suddenly and powerfully converted to God, they
are not converted at all.
The duty of coming to Christ at once, ‘just as we are,’ should be pressed on all
hearers. It is the very corner-stone of gospel preaching. But surely men ought to
be told to repent as well as to believe. They should be told why they are to come
to Christ, and what they are to come for, and whence their need arises.
The nearness of peace and comfort in Christ should be proclaimed to men. But
surely they should be taught that the possession of strong inward joys and high
frames of mind is not essential to justification, and that there may be true faith
and true peace without such very triumphant feelings. joy alone is no certain
evidence of grace.
The defects of the theological system I have in view appear to me to be these:
(1) The work of the Holy Ghost in converting sinners is far too much narrowed
and confined to one single way. Not all true converts are converted instantaneously,
like Saul and the Philippian jailor. (2) Sinners are not sufficiently
instructed about the holiness of God’s law, the depth of their sinfulness, and the
real guilt of sin. To be incessantly telling a sinner to ‘come to Christ’ is of little
use, unless you tell him why he needs to come, and show him fully his sins. (3)
Faith is not properly explained. In some cases people are taught that mere feeling
is faith. In others they are taught that if they believe that Christ died for sinners
they have faith! At this rate the very devils are believers! (4) The possession of
inward joy and assurance is made essential to believing. Yet assurance is certainly
not of the essence of saving faith. There may be faith when there is no assurance.
To insist on all believers at once ‘rejoicing’, as soon as they believe, is most unsafe.
Some, I am quite sure, will rejoice without believing, while others will believe who
cannot at once rejoice. (5) Last, but not least, the sovereignty of God in saving
sinners, and the absolute necessity of preventing grace, are far too much over‘
looked. Many talk as if conversions could be manufactured at man’s pleasure, and
as if there were no such text as this: ‘It is not of him that willeth, nor of him that
runneth, but of God that showeth mercy’ (Rom. 9:16).
The mischief done by the theological system I refer to is, I am persuaded, very
great. On the one hand, many humble—minded Christians are totally discouraged
and daunted. They fancy they have no grace because they cannot reach up to the
high frames and feelings which are pressed on their attention. On the other side,
many graceless people are deluded into thinking they are ‘converted’, because
under the pressure of animal excitement and temporary feelings they are led to
profess themselves Christians. And all this time the thoughtless and ungodly look
on with contempt and find fresh reasons for neglecting religion altogether.
The antidotes to the state of things I deplore are plain and few. (1) Let ‘all the
counsel of God‘ be taught in scriptural proportion; and let not two or three
precious doctrines of the gospel be allowed to overshadow all other truths. (2)
Let repentance be taught fully as well as faith, and not thrust completely into the
background. Our Lord Jesus Christ and St Paul always taught both. (3) Let the
variety of the Holy Ghost’s works be honestly stated and admitted; and while
instantaneous conversion is pressed on men, let it not be taught as a necessity. (4)
Let those who profess to have found immediate sensible peace be plainly warned
to try themselves well, and to remember that feeling is not faith, and that ‘patient
continuance in well-doing’ is the great proof that faith is true (John 8:31). (5) Let
the great duty of ‘counting the cost' be constantly urged on all who are disposed
to make a religious profession, and let them be honestly and fairly told that there
is warfare as well as peace, a cross as well as a crown, in Christ's service.
I am sure that unhealthy excitement is above all things to be dreaded in
religion, because it often ends in fatal, soul-ruining reaction and utter deadness.
And when multitudes are suddenly brought under the power of religious
impressions, unhealthy excitement is almost sure to follow.
I have not much faith in the soundness of conversions when they are said to
take place in masses and wholesale. It does not seem to me in harmony with
God’s general dealings in this dispensation. To my eyes it appears that God’s
ordinary plan is to call in individuals one by one. Therefore, when I hear of large
numbers being suddenly converted all at one time, I hear of it with less hope than
some. The healthiest and most enduring success in mission fields is certainly not
where natives have come over to Christianity in a mass, as recent events have
shown in New Zealand. The most satisfactory and firmest work at home does not
always appear to me to be the work done in revivals.
There are two passages of Scripture which I should like to have frequently and
fully expounded in the present day by all who preach the gospel, and specially by
those who have anything to do with revivals.‘ One passage is the parable of the
sower. That parable is not recorded three times over without good reason and a
deep meaning. The other passage is our Lord ‘s teaching about ‘counting the cost’,
and the words which He spoke to the ‘great multitudes’ whom He saw following
Him. It is very noteworthy that He did not on that occasion say anything to
flatter these volunteers or encourage them to follow Him. No, He saw what their
case needed. He told them to stand still and ‘count the cost’ (Luke 14:25, etc.). I
am not sure that some modern preachers would have adopted this course of
treatment.