(3) But the most important fact concerning the kingdom in Christ's view
of it is that it is _spiritual_. And, because it is spiritual, it failed
wholly to satisfy the earth-bound ambitions of the Jews. For generations
they had fed their national pride with visions of a world obedient to
Israel's sway, and when one who claimed to be the Messiah nevertheless
told them plainly that His kingdom was not of this world, they turned
from Him as from one that mocked. He and they both spoke of a kingdom of
God, but while they emphasized the "kingdom" He emphasized "God." So
wholly did men fail to enter into His mind that on one occasion two of
His own disciples came to Him asking that they might sit, one on the
right hand, and one on the left hand in His glory. And even when He was
just about to leave them, and to return to His Father, the old ambitions
still made themselves heard. "Lord," said they, "dost Thou at this time
restore again the kingdom to Israel?" But with all such dreams of
temporal sovereignty Christ would have nothing to do; He had put them
from Him, definitely and for ever, in the Temptation in the wilderness.
He completely reversed the current notions concerning the kingdom.
"Being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God cometh, He
answered them and said, The kingdom of God cometh not with observation;
neither shall they say, Lo, here! or, There! for lo, the kingdom of God
is within you." And when self-complacent religious leaders flattered
themselves that, of course, the first places in the kingdom would be
theirs, He sternly warned them that they might find themselves
altogether shut out while the publicans and harlots whom they despised
were admitted. Through all His teaching Christ laid the emphasis on
character. Pride, and love of power, and sordid ambitions, and all
self-seeking--for these things, and for them that cherished these
things, the kingdom had no place. "Blessed," Christ said, "are the poor
in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." "Except ye turn, and
become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of
heaven." "Whosoever would become great among you, shall be your
minister; and whosoever would be first among you shall be servant of
all"--these are they that are accounted worthy of the kingdom of God.
The earliest account of Christ's preaching which has already been
quoted, gives us the right point of view for the interpretation of
Christ's idea of the kingdom as spiritual: "Jesus came into Galilee,
preaching the gospel of God, and saying, The time is fulfilled, and the
kingdom of God is at hand: Repent ye, and believe in the gospel." He had
come to establish a kingdom whose dominion should be for ever, against
which the gates of hell should not prevail, and the foundation of it He
laid in the penitent and obedient hearts of men. This explains why
Christ had so little to do with programmes, and so much to do with men.
If a man's right to the title of reformer be judged by the magnitude of
the revolution which he has effected, it is but bare justice to call Him
the greatest reformer who ever lived. Yet He put out no programme; He
made Himself the spokesman of no party, the advocate of no social or
political reform. To the disappointment of His friends, as much as to
the confusion of His enemies, He absolutely refused to take sides on the
vexed political questions of the hour. "Unto Caesar," He said, "render
the things that are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's."
But on individuals He spent Himself to the uttermost. "He is not only
indifferent to numbers, but often seems disinclined to deal with
numbers. He sends the multitude away; He goes apart into a mountain with
His chosen disciples; He withdraws Himself from the throng in Jerusalem
to the quiet home in Bethany; He discourses of the profoundest purposes
of His mission with the Twelve in an upper room; He opens the treasures
of His wisdom before one Pharisee at night, and one unresponsive woman
by the well."[31] Always His work is done not by "external organization
or mass-movements or force of numbers," but from within: "Repent ye and
believe in the gospel."
Now, this was the vary last kind of message that the Pharisees of
Christ's day were looking for. They wanted the world put
right--according to their own ideas of right--it is true; but to be told
that they must begin with themselves was not at all what they wanted.
Are not many of us in the same case to-day? We are all eager for
reforms, at least so long as they are from without. We have a touching
faith in the power of machinery and organization. We are quite sure that
if Parliament would only pass this, that, and the other bit of
legislative reform, on which our hearts are set, the millennium would be
here, if not by the morning post, at least by the session's end. And
there is much, undoubtedly, that Parliament can and ought to do for us.
Nevertheless, was not Christ right? Instead of the old prayer, "Create
in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me," some of
us, as one writer says, would rather pray, "Create a better social
order, O God; and renew a right relation between various classes of
men." We are ready to begin anywhere rather than with ourselves, at any
point in the big circumference rather than at the centre. "I don't deny,
my friends," wrote Charles Kingsley to the Chartists, "it is much
cheaper and pleasanter to be reformed by the devil than by God; for God
will only reform society on the condition of our reforming every man his
own self, while the devil is quite ready to help us to mend the laws and
the Parliament, earth and heaven, without ever starting such an
impertinent and 'personal' request as that a man should mend himself."
Yet without self-reform nothing is possible. "The character of the
aggregate," says Herbert Spencer, "is determined by the characters of
the units." And he illustrates thus: Suppose a man building with good,
square, well-burnt bricks; without the use of mortar he may build a wall
of a certain height and stability. But if his bricks are warped and
cracked or broken, the wall cannot be of the same height and stability.
If again, instead of bricks he use cannon-balls then he cannot build a
wall at all; at most, something in the form of a pyramid with a square
or rectangular base. And if, once more, for cannon-balls we substitute
rough, unhewn boulders, no definite stable form is possible. "The
character of the aggregate is, determined by the characters of the
units." Every attempt to reconstruct society which leaves out of account
the character of the men and women who constitute society is foredoomed
to failure. Behind every social problem stands the greater problem of
the individual, the redemption of character. We may get, as assuredly we
ought to get, better houses for the working-classes; but unless we also
get better working-classes for the houses, we shall not have greatly
mended matters. And no turn of the Parliamentary machine will produce
these for us. We can pass new laws; only the grace of God can make new
men. "For my part," says Kingsley once more, speaking through the lips
of his tailor-poet, "I seem to have learnt that the only thing to
regenerate the world is not more of any system, good or bad; but simply
more of the Spirit of God." "_Except a man be born anew, he cannot see
the kingdom of God._"
* * * * *
CONCERNING MAN
"Tho' world on world in myriad myriads roll
Round us, each with different powers,
And other forms of life than ours,
What know we greater than the soul?"
TENNYSON.
* * * * *
VII
CONCERNING MAN
"_There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one
sinner that repenteth._"--LUKE XV. 10.
This is one of many sayings of our Lord which reveal His sense of the
infinite worth of the human soul, which is the central fact in His
teaching about man, and the only one with which in the present chapter
we shall be concerned. Other aspects of the truth will come into view in
the following chapter, when we come to consider Christ's teaching about
sin.
I
"The infinite worth of the human soul"--this is a discovery the glory of
which, it is no exaggeration to say, belongs wholly to Christ. It is
said that one of the most magnificent diamonds in Europe, which to-day
blazes in a king's crown, once lay for months on a stall in a piazza at
Rome labelled, "Rock-crystal, price one franc." And it was thus that for
ages the priceless jewel of the soul lay unheeded and despised of men.
Before Christ came, men honoured the rich, and the great, and the wise,
as we honour them now; but man as man was of little or no account. If
one had, or could get, a pedestal by which to lift himself above the
common crowd, he might count for something; but if he had nothing save
his own feet to stand upon, he was a mere nobody, for whom nobody cared.
We turn to the teaching of Jesus, and what a contrast! "Of how much more
value," He said, "are ye than the birds!" "How much then is a man"--not
a rich man, not a wise man, not a Pharisee, but a man--"of more value
than a sheep!" "What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole
world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for
his soul?" It was by thought-provoking questions such as these that
Jesus revealed His own thoughts concerning man. And, of course, when He
spoke in this way about the soul, when He said that a man might gain the
whole world, but that if the price he paid for it were his soul, he was
the loser, He was not speaking of the souls of a select few, but of the
souls of all. Every man, every woman, every little child--all were
precious in His sight. It is man as man, Christ taught, that is of worth
to God.
Consider how much is involved in the bare fact that Christ came into the
world the son of a poor mother, and lived in it a poor man. "A man's
life," He said, "consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he
possesseth." And the best commentary on the saying is just His own life;
for He had nothing. There is something very suggestive in Christ's use
of the little possessive pronoun "My." We know how we use the word.
Listen to the rich man in the parable: "My fruits," "my barns," "my
corn," "my goods." Now listen to Christ. He says: "My Father," "My
Church," "My friends," "My disciples"; but He never says "My house," "My
lands," "My books." The one perfect life this earth has seen was the
life of One who owned nothing, and left behind Him nothing but the
clothes He wore. And not only was Christ poor Himself, He spent His life
among the poor. "To believe that a man with L60 a year," Canon Liddon
once said, "is just as much worthy of respect as a man with L6000, you
must be seriously a Christian." You must indeed. Yet that which is for
us so hard never seems to have cost Christ a struggle. We cannot so much
as think of mere money, more or less, counting for anything in His
sight. The little artificial distinctions of society were to Him
nothing, and less than nothing. He went to be guest with a man that was
a sinner. A woman that was a harlot He suffered to wash His feet with
her tears, and to wipe them with her hair. "This man," said His enemies,
with scorn vibrant in every word, "receiveth sinners and eateth with
them." And they were right; but what they counted His deepest shame was
in reality His chiefest glory.
Now, what does all this mean but simply this, that it was for man as man
that Christ cared? Observe the difference in the point at which He and
we become interested in men. We are interested in them, for the most
part, when, by their work, or their wealth, or their fame, they have
added something to themselves; in other words, we become interested when
they become interesting. But that which gave worth to man in Christ's
eyes lay beneath all these merely adventitious circumstances of his
life, in his naked humanity, in what he was, or might be, in himself.
This is why to Him all souls were dear. We love them that love us, the
loving and the lovable; Christ loved the unloving and the unlovable. He
was named, and rightly named, "Friend of publicans and sinners." Then
were bad men of worth to Christ? They were; for, as Tennyson says, "If
there be a devil in man, there is an angel too." Christ saw the possible
angel in the actual devil. He knew that the lost might be found, and the
bad become good, and the prodigal return home; and He loved men, not
only for what they were, but for what they might be.
It would be easy to show that this high doctrine of man underlies, and
is involved in, the whole life and work and teaching of Jesus. It is
involved in the doctrine of God. Indeed, as Dr. Dale says, the Christian
doctrine of man is really a part of the Christian doctrine of God.[32]
Because God is a Father, every man is a son of God, or, rather, every
man has within him the capacity for sonship. It is involved in the
doctrine of the Incarnation; that stupendous fact reveals not only the
condescension of God but the glory and exaltation of man. If God could
become man, there must be a certain kinship between God and man; since
God has become man, our poor human nature has been thereby lifted up and
glorified. The same great doctrine is implied in the truth of Christ's
atonement. When He who knew Himself to be the eternal Son of God spoke
of His own life as the "ransom" for the forfeited lives of men, He
revealed once more how infinite is the worth of that which could be
redeemed only at such tremendous cost.
Such, then, is Christ's teaching about man. And, as I have already said,
it was a new thing in human history. Nowhere is the line which divides
the world B.C. from the world A.D. more sharply defined than here.
Before Christ came, no one dared to say, for no one believed, that the
soul of every man, and still less the soul of every woman and child, was
of worth to God, that even a slave might become a son of the Most High.
But Christ believed it, and Christ said it, and when He said it, the new
world, the world in which we live, began to be. The great difference
between ancient and modern civilizations, one eminent historian has
said, is to be found here, that while ancient civilization cared only
for the welfare of the favoured few, modern civilization seeks the
welfare of all. And when we ask further what has made the difference,
history sends us back for answer to the four Gospels and the teaching of
Jesus concerning the infinite worth of the soul of man.
II
And now, to bring matters to a practical issue, have we who profess the
faith of Christ learnt to set, either upon others or upon ourselves, the
value which Christ put upon all men? Far as we have travelled from
ancient Greece and Rome, are we not still, in our thoughts about men,
often pagan rather than Christian? Our very speech bewrayeth us, and
shows how little even yet we have learnt to think Christ's thoughts
after Him. He declared, in words which have already been quoted, that "a
man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he
possesseth." Nevertheless, in our daily speech we persist in measuring
men by this very standard; we say that a man "is worth" so much, though,
of course, all that we mean is that he has so much. Again, we allow
ourselves to speak about the "hands" in a factory, as if with the hand
there went neither head nor heart. If we must put a part for the whole,
why should it not be after the fashion of the New Testament? "And there
were added unto them in that day"--so it is written in one place--"about
three thousand souls"--"souls," not "hands."[33] And we may depend upon
it there would be less soulless labour in the world, and fewer men and
women in danger of degenerating into mere "hands," if we would learn to
think of them in Christ's higher and worthier way.
Let me try to show, by two or three examples, how Christ's teaching
about man is needed through all our life.
(1) There was, perhaps, never a time when so many were striving to
fulfil the apostle's injunction, and, as they have opportunity, to do
good unto all men. More and more we busy ourselves to-day with the good
works of philanthropy and Christian charity. And what we must remember
is that our philanthropy needs our theology to sustain it. They only
will continue Christ's work for man who cherish Christ's thoughts about
man. Sever philanthropy from the great Christian ideas which have
created and sustained it, and it will very speedily come to an end of
its resources. All experience shows that philanthropy cut off from
Christ has not capital enough on which to do its business. And the
reason is not far to seek. They who strive to save their fellows, they
who go down into the depths that they may lift men up, see so much of
the darkened under-side of human life, they are brought so close up to
the ugly facts of human baseness, human trickery, human ingratitude,
that, unless there be behind them the staying, steadying power of the
faith and love of Christ, they cannot long endure the strain; they grow
weary in well-doing, perchance even they grow bitter and contemptuous,
and in a little while the tasks they have taken up fall unfinished from
their hands. "Society" takes to "slumming" for a season--just as for
another season it may take to ping-pong--but the fit does not last; and
only they keep on through the long, grey days, when neither sun nor
stars are seen, who have learnt to look on men with the eyes, and to
feel toward them with the heart, of Jesus the Man of Nazareth.
(2) "Whoso shall cause one of these little ones that believe on Me to
stumble, it is profitable for him that a great mill-stone should be
hanged about his neck, and that he should be sunk in the depth of the
sea." Once more is revealed Christ's thought of the worth of the soul.
How the holy passion against him who would hurt "one of these little
ones" glows and scorches in His words! Is this a word for any of us? Is
there one among us who is tempting a brother man to dishonesty, to
drink, to lust; who is pushing some thoughtless girl down the steep and
slippery slope which ends--we know where? Then let him stop and listen,
not to me, but to Christ. Never, I think, did He speak with such solemn,
heart-shaking emphasis, and He says that it were better a man should
die, that he should die this night, die the most miserable and shameful
death, than that he should bring the blood of another's soul upon his
head. It must needs be that occasions of stumbling come, but woe, woe to
that man by whom they come, when he and the slain soul's Saviour shall
stand face to face! Oh, if there be one among us who is playing the
tempter, and doing the devil's work, let him get to his knees, and cry
with the conscience-smitten Psalmist, "Deliver me from blood-guiltiness,
O God, Thou God of my salvation"; and peradventure even yet He may hear
and have mercy.
(3) Let fathers and mothers ponder what this teaching of Jesus
concerning man means for them in relation to their children. There came
into your home a while ago a little child, a gift from God, just such a
babe as Jesus Himself was in His mother's arms in Bethlehem. The child
is yours, bone of your bone, flesh of your flesh, and it bears your
likeness and image; but it is also God's child, and it bears His image.
What difference is the coming of the little stranger making in you? I do
not ask what difference is it making _to_ you, for the answer would be
ready in a moment, "Much, every way"; but, what difference is it making
_in_ you? Does it never occur to you that you ought to be a different
man--a better man--that you ought to be a different woman--a better
woman--for the sake of the little one lying in the cradle? Do you know
that of all the things God ever made and owns, in this or all His
worlds, there is nothing more dear to Him than the soul of the little
child He has committed to your hands? What hands those should be that
bear a gift like that! Perhaps we never thought of it in that way
before. But it is true, whether we think of it or not. Is it not time to
begin to think of it? This night, as we stand over our sleeping child,
let us promise to God, for the child's sake, that we will be His.
(4) Last of all, we must learn to set Christ's value upon ourselves.
This is the tragedy of life, that we hold ourselves so cheap. We are
sprung of heaven's first blood, have titles manifold, and yet, when the
crown is offered us, we choose rather, like the man with the muck-rake,
in Bunyan's great allegory, to grub among the dust and sticks and straws
of the floor. In the times of the French Revolution, French soldiers, it
is said, stabled their horses in some of the magnificent cathedrals of
France; but some of us are guilty of a far worse sacrilege in that holy
of holies which we call the soul. "Ye were redeemed, not with
corruptible things, with silver or gold," but with blood, precious
blood, even the blood of Christ. And the soul which cost that, we are
ready to sell any day in the open market for a little more pleasure or a
little more pelf. The birthright is bartered for the sorriest mess of
pottage, and the jewel which the King covets to wear in His crown our
own feet trample in the mire of the streets. The pity of it, the pity of
it!
In one of Dora Greenwell's simple and beautiful _Songs of Salvation_, a
pitman tells to his wife the story of his conversion. He had got a word
like a fire in his heart that would not let him be, "Jesus, the Son of
God, who loved, and who gave Himself for me."
"It was for me that Jesus died! for me, and a world of men,
Just as sinful, and just as slow to give back His love again;
And He didn't wait till I came to Him, but He loved me at my worst;
He needn't ever have died for me if I could have loved Him first."
And then he continues:--
"And could'st Thou love such a man as me, my Saviour! Then I'll take
More heed to this wand'ring soul of mine, if it's only for Thy sake."
Yes, we are all of worth to God, but we must needs go to the Cross to
learn how great is our worth; and, as we bow in its sacred shadow, may
we learn to say: "For Thy sake, O Christ, for Thy sake, I'll take more
heed to this wandering soul of mine."[34]
* * * * *
CONCERNING SIN
"O man, strange composite of heaven and earth!
Majesty dwarfed to baseness! fragrant flower
Running to poisonous seed! and seeming worth
Choking corruption! weakness mastering power!
Who never art so near to crime and shame,
As when thou hast achieved some deed of name."
NEWMAN.
* * * * *
VIII
CONCERNING SIN
"_When ye pray, say.... Forgive us our sins._"--LUKE xi. 2, 4.
A recent writer has pointed out that sin, like death, is not seriously
realized except as a personal fact. We really know it only when we know
it about ourselves. The word "sin" has no serious meaning to a man,
except when it means that he himself is a sinful man. And hence it comes
to pass that we can still turn to the penitential Psalms, to the seventh
chapter of Romans, to the _Confessions_ of St. Augustine, or to the
_Grace Abounding_ of John Bunyan, and make their words the language of
our own broken and contrite hearts. For when Bunyan and Augustine and
Paul and the psalmists spoke of sin, they spoke not the thoughts of
others, but their knowledge of themselves; they looked into their own
hearts and wrote. That is why their words "find" us to-day.
Nevertheless, paradox though it may seem, our greatest Teacher
concerning sin, Himself "knew no sin." Born without sin, living and
dying without sin, Christ yet "knew what was in man," knew the sin that
was in man, and from His own sinless height once for all revealed and
judged and condemned it. Let us seek, then, to learn the mind of Christ
on this great matter.
And once more, as I have had occasion to point out in a previous
chapter, we must not look for anything formal, defined, systematic in
Christ's teaching. We cannot open the Gospels, as we might some modern
theological treatise, and read out from them a scientific exposition of
sin--its origin, its nature, its treatment. The New Testament is not
like a museum, where the flowers are dried and pressed, and the fossils
lie carefully arranged within glass cases, and everything is duly
classified and labelled. Rather it is like nature itself, where the
flowers grow wild at our feet, and the rocks lie as the Creator's hand
left them, and where each man must do the classifying and labelling for
himself. Museums have their uses, and there will always be those who
prefer them--they save so much trouble. But since Christ's aim was not
to save us trouble, but to teach us to see things with our own eyes, to
see them as He saw them, and to think of them as He thinks, it is no
wonder that He has chosen rather to put us down in the midst of a world
of living truths than in a museum of assorted and dead facts.
I
What, then, is the teaching of Jesus concerning sin? His tone is at once
severe and hopeful. Sometimes His words are words that shake our hearts
with fear; sometimes they surprise us with their overflowing tenderness
and pity. But however He may deal with the sinner, we are always made to
feel that to Jesus sin is a serious thing, a problem not to be slurred
over and made light of, but to be faced, and met, and grappled with.
Christ's sense of the gravity of sin comes out in many ways.
(1) It is involved in His doctrine of man. He who made so much of man
could not make light of man's sin. It is because man is so great that
his sin is so grave. No one can understand the New Testament doctrine of
sin who does not read it in the light of the New Testament doctrine of
man. When we think of man as Christ thought of him, when we see in him
the possibilities which Christ saw, the Scripture language concerning
sin becomes intelligible enough; until then it may easily seem
exaggerated and unreal. It is the height for which man was made and
meant which measures the fall which is involved in his sin.
(2) Call to mind the language in which Christ set forth the effects of
sin. He spoke of men as blind, as sick, as dead; He said they were as
sheep gone astray, as sons that are lost, as men in debt which they can
never pay, in bondage from which they can never free themselves. The
very accumulation of metaphors bears witness to Christ's sense of the
havoc wrought by sin. Nor are they metaphors merely; they are His
reading of the facts of life as it lay before Him. Let me refer briefly
to two of them, (_a_) Christ spoke of men as in bondage through their
sin. "If," He said once, "ye abide in My word ... ye shall know the
truth, and the truth shall make you free." And straightway jealous
Jewish ears caught at that word "free." "Free?" they cried, "Free? we be
Abraham's seed, and have never yet been in bondage to any man: how
sayest Thou, Ye shall be made free?" Yet even as they lift their hands
in protest Christ hears the clink of their fetters: "Verily, verily, I
say unto you, every one that committeth sin is the bond-servant--the
slave--of sin." "To whom ye present yourselves as servants unto
obedience, his servants--his slaves--ye are whom ye obey; whether of sin
unto death, or of obedience unto righteousness." Apostle and Lord mean
the same thing, true of us as it was true of the Jews: "Every one that
committeth sin is the slave of sin." (_b_) Further, Christ says, men are
in debt through their sin. In one parable He tells us of a certain
lender who had two debtors; the one owed five hundred pence, and the
other fifty; but neither had wherewith to pay. In another parable we
hear of a servant who owed his lord ten thousand talents--a gigantic
sum, vague in its vastness, "millions" as we might say--and he likewise
had not wherewith to pay. Further, in the application of each parable,
it is God to whom this unpayable debt is due. Now, it is just at this
point that our sense of sin to-day is weakest. The scientist, the
dramatist, the novelist are all proclaiming our responsibility toward
them that come after us; with pitiless insistence they are telling us
that the evil that men do lives after them, that it is not done with
when it is done. Yet, with all this, there may be no thought of God. It
is the consciousness not merely of responsibility, but of responsibility
God-ward, which needs to be strengthened. When we sin we may wrong
others much, we may wrong ourselves more, but we wrong God most of all;
and we shall never recover Christ's thought of sin until, like the
psalmist and the prodigal, we have learned to cry to Him, "Against Thee
have I sinned, and done that which is evil in Thy sight."
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