Then they looked round upon the earth, those simple-hearted forefathers of ours, and said within themselves, Where is the All- Father, if All-Father there be? Not in this earth; for it will perish. Not in the sun, moon, or stars, for they will perish too.

Where is He who abideth for ever?

Then they lifted up their eyes and saw, as they thought, beyond sun, and moon, and stars and all which changes and will change, the clear blue sky, the boundless firmament of heaven.

That never changed; that was always the same. The clouds and storms rolled far below it, and all the bustle of this noisy world; but there the sky was still, as bright and calm as ever. The All-Father must be there, unchangeable in the unchanging heaven; bright, and pure, and boundless like the heavens; and like the heavens too, silent, and afar off.

So they named him after the heaven, Tuith, Tuisco, Divisco--The G.o.d who lives in the clear heaven; and after him Tuesday is called: the day of Tuisco, the heavenly Father. He was the Father of G.o.ds and men; and man was the son of Tuisco and Hertha--heaven and earth.

That was all they knew; and even that they did not know; they contradicted themselves and each other about it. After a time they began to think that Odin, and not Tuisco, was the All-Father; all was dim and far off to them. They were feeling after him, as St. Paul says he had intended them to do: but they did not find him. They did not know the Father, because they did not know Jesus Christ the Son; as it is written, 'No man cometh to the Father, but through me;'

and, 'No man hath seen G.o.d at any time; only the only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him.'

Many other heathens had the same thought and the same word; the old Greeks and Romans, for instance, who many thousand years ago spoke the same tongue as we did then, called him Zeus or Deus Pater; Jupiter; the heavenly Father, Father of G.o.ds and men; using the same word as our Tuisco, a little altered. And that same word, changed slightly, means G.o.d now, in Welsh, French, and Italian, and many languages in Europe and in Asia; and will do so till the end of time.

That, I say, was all they knew of their Father in heaven, till missionaries came and preached the Gospel to them, and told them what St. Paul told the Greeks in my text.

Now, what did St. Paul tell the Greeks? He came, we read, to Athens in Greece, and found the city wholly given to idolatry, worshipping all manner of false G.o.ds, and images of them. And yet they were not content with their false G.o.ds. They felt, as our forefathers felt, that there must be a greater, better, more mighty, more faithful G.o.d than all: and they thought, 'We will worship him too: for we are sure that he is, though we know nothing about him.' So they set up, beside all the altars and temples of the false G.o.ds 'To the Unknown G.o.d.' And St. Paul pa.s.sed by and saw it; and his heart was stirred within him with pity and compa.s.sion; and he rose up and preached them a sermon--the first and the best missionary sermon which ever was preached on earth, the model of all missionary sermons; and said, 'That G.o.d whom you ignorantly worship, Him I will declare unto you.'

Now, here was a Gospel; here was good news. St. Paul told them--as the missionaries afterwards told our forefathers--that one, at least, of their heathen fancies was not wrong. There was a heavenly Father.

Mankind was not an orphan, come into the world he knew not whence, and going, when he died, he knew not whither. No, man was not an orphan. From G.o.d he came; to G.o.d, if he chose, he might return. The heathen poet had spoken truth when he said, 'For we are the offspring of G.o.d.'

But where was the heavenly Father? Far away in the clear sky, in the highest heaven beyond all suns and stars? Silent and idle, caring for no one on earth, content in himself, and leaving sinful man to himself to go to ruin as he chose?

'No,' says St. Paul, 'He is not far off from any one of us; for in him we live, and move, and have our being.'

Wonderful words! Eighteen hundred years have past since then, and we have not spelt out half the meaning of them. It is such good news, such blessed news, and yet such awful news, that we are afraid to believe it fully. That the Almighty G.o.d should be so near us, sinful men; that we, in spite of all our sins, should live, and move, and have our being in G.o.d. How can it be true?

My friends, it would not be true, if something more was not true. We should have no right to say, 'I believe in G.o.d the Father Almighty,'

unless we said also, 'I believe in Jesus Christ,. his only Son, our Lord.' St. Paul, after he had told them of a Father in heaven, went on to tell them of A MAN whom that Father had sent to judge the world, having raised him from the dead.--And there his sermon stopped. Those foolish Greeks laughed at him; they would not receive the news of Jesus Christ the Son; and therefore they lost the good news of their Father in heaven. We can guess from St. Paul's Epistle what he was going on to tell them. How, by believing in Jesus Christ the Son, and claiming their share in him, and being baptized into his name, they might become once more G.o.d's children, and take their place again as new men and true men in Jesus Christ. But they would not hear his message.

Our forefathers did hear that message, and believed it; they had been feeling after the heavenly Father, and at last they found him, and claimed their share in Christ as sons of the heavenly Father; and therefore we are Christian men this day, baptized into G.o.d's family, and thriving as G.o.d's family must thrive, as long as it remembers that G.o.d dwelleth not in temples made with hands, and needs nothing from man, seeing that he gives to all life and breath and all things; and is not far from any one of us, seeing that in him we live, and move, and have our being, and are the offspring, the children of G.o.d.

Bear that in mind. Bear it in mind, I say, that in G.o.d you live, and move, and have your being. Day and night, going out and coming in, say to yourselves, 'I am with G.o.d my Father, and G.o.d my Father is with me. There is not a good feeling in my heart, but my heavenly Father has put it there: ay, I have not a power which he has not given, a thought which he does not know; even the very hairs of my head are all numbered. Whither shall I go then from his presence?

Whither shall I flee from his Spirit? For he filleth all things. If my eyes were opened, I should see at every moment G.o.d's love, G.o.d's power, G.o.d's wisdom, working alike in sun and moon, in every growing blade and ripening grain, and in the training and schooling of every human being, and every nation, to whom he has appointed their times, and the bounds of their habitation, if haply they may seek after the Lord, and find him in whom they live, and move, and have their being.

Everywhere I should see life going forth to all created things from G.o.d the Father, of whom are all things, and G.o.d the Son, by whom are all things, and G.o.d the Holy Spirit, the Lord and Giver of that life.'

A little of that glorious sight we may see in this life, if our hearts and reasons are purified by the Spirit of G.o.d, to see G.o.d in all things, and all things in G.o.d: and more in that life whereof it is written, 'Beloved, we are now the sons of G.o.d; and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but this we know, that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.' To that life may he in his mercy bring us all. Amen.

SERMON XXVII. THE GOOD SHEPHERD

JOHN x. 11.

I am the good shepherd.

Here are blessed words. They are not new words. You find words like these often in the Bible, and even in ancient heathen books. Kings, priests, prophets, judges, are called shepherds of the people. David is called the shepherd of Israel. A prophet complains of the shepherds of Israel who feed themselves, and will not feed the flock.

But the old Hebrew prophets had a vision of a greater and better shepherd than David, or any earthly king or priest--of a heavenly and almighty shepherd. 'The Lord is my shepherd,' says one; 'therefore I shall not want.' And another says, 'He shall feed his flock like a shepherd. He shall gather his lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those who are with young.'

This was blessed news; good news for all mankind, if there had been no more than this. But there is more blessed news still in the text.

In the text, the Lord of whom those old prophets spoke, spoke for himself, with human voice, upon this earth of ours; and declared that all they had said was true; and that more still was true.

I am the good shepherd, he says. And then he adds, The good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep.

Oh, my friends, consider these words. Think what endless depths of wonder there are in them. Is it not wonderful enough that G.o.d should care for men; should lead them, guide them, feed them, condescend to call himself their shepherd? Wonderful, indeed; so wonderful, that the old prophets would never have found it out but by the inspiration of Almighty G.o.d. But what a wider, deeper, n.o.bler, more wonderful blessing, and more blessed wonder, that the shepherd should give his life for the sheep;--that the master should give his life for the servant, the good for the bad, the wise one for the fools, the pure one for the foul, the loving one for the spiteful, the king for those who had rebelled against him, the Creator for his creatures. That G.o.d should give his life for man! Truly, says St. John, 'Herein is love. Not that we loved him: but that he loved us.' Herein, indeed, is love. Herein is the beauty of G.o.d, and the glory of G.o.d; that he spared nothing, shrank from nothing, that he might save man.

Because the sheep were lost, the good shepherd would go forth into the rough and dark places of the earth to seek and to save that which was lost. That was enough. That was a thousand times more than we had a right to expect. Had he done only that he would have been for ever glorious, for ever adorable, for ever worthy of the praises and thanks of heaven and earth, and all that therein is. But that seemed little in the eyes of Jesus, little to the greatness of his divine love. He would understand the weakness of his sheep by being weak himself; understand the sorrows of his sheep, by sorrowing himself; understand the sins of his sheep, by bearing all their sins; the temptations of his sheep, by conquering them himself; and lastly, he would understand and conquer the death of his sheep, by dying himself. Because the sheep must die, he would die too, that in all things, and to the uttermost, he might show himself the good shepherd, who shared all sorrow, danger and misery with his sheep, as if they had been his children, bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. In all things he would show himself the good shepherd, and no hireling, who cared for himself and his own wages. If the wolf came, he would face the wolf, and though the wolf killed him, yet would he kill the wolf, that by his death he might destroy death, and him who had the power of death, that is, the devil. He would go where the sheep went. He would enter into the sheepfold by the same gate as they did, and not climb over into the fold some other way, like a thief and a robber. He would lead them into the fold by the same gate. They had to go into G.o.d's fold through the gate of death; and therefore he would go in through it also, and die with his sheep; that he might claim the gate of death for his own, and declare that it did not belong to the devil, but to him and his heavenly Father; and then having led his sheep in through the gate of death, he would lead them out again by the gate of resurrection, that they might find pasture in the redeemed land of everlasting life, where can enter neither devil, nor wolf, nor robber, evil spirit, evil man, or evil thing. This, and more than this, he would do in the greatness of his love. He would become in all things like his sheep, that he might show himself the good shepherd. Because they died, he would die; that so, because he rose, they might rise also.

Oh, my friends, who is sufficient for these things? Not men, not saints, not angels or archangels can comprehend the love of Christ.

How can they? For Christ is G.o.d, and G.o.d is love; the root and fountain of all love which is in you and me, and angels, and all created beings. And therefore his love is as much greater than ours, or than the love of angels and archangels, as the whole sun is greater than one ray of sun-light. Say rather, as much greater and more glorious as the sun is greater and more glorious than the light which sparkles in the dew-drop on the gra.s.s. The love and goodness and holiness of a saint or an angel is the light in that dew-drop, borrowed from the sun. The love of G.o.d is the sun himself, which shineth from one part of heaven to the other, and there is nothing hid from the life-giving heat and light thereof. When the dew-drop can take in the sun, then can we take in the love of G.o.d, which fills all heaven and earth.

But there is, if possible, better news still behind--'I am the good shepherd; and know my sheep, and am known of mine.'

'I know my sheep.' Surely some of the words which I have just spoken may help to explain that to you. 'I know my sheep.' Not merely, I know who are my sheep, and who are not. Of course, the Lord does that. We might have guessed that for ourselves. What comfort is there in that? No, he does not say merely, 'I know WHO my sheep are; but I know WHAT my sheep are. I know them; their inmost hearts. I know their sins and their follies: but I know, too, their longing after good. I know their temptations, their excuses, their natural weaknesses, their infirmities, which they brought into the world with them. I know their inmost hearts for good and for evil. True, I think some of them often miserable, and poor, and blind, when they fancy themselves strong, and wise, and rich in grace, and having need of nothing. But I know some of them, too, to be longing after what is good, to be hungering and thirsting after righteousness, when they can see nothing but their own sin and weakness, and are utterly ashamed and tired of themselves, and are ready to lie down in despair, and give up all struggling after G.o.d. I know their weakness--and of me it is written, 'I will carry the lambs in mine arms.' Those who are innocent and inexperienced in the ways of this world, I will see that they are not led into temptation; and I will gently lead those that are with young: those who are weary with the burden of their own thoughts, those who are yearning and labouring after some higher, better, more free, more orderly, more useful life; those who long to find out the truth, and to speak it, and give birth to the n.o.ble thoughts and the good plans which they have conceived: I have inspired their good desires, and I will bring them to good effect; I will gently lead them,' says the Lord, 'for I know them better than they know themselves.'

Yes. Christ knows us better than we know ourselves: and better, too, than we know him. Thanks be to G.o.d that it is so. Or the last words of the text would crush us into despair--'I know my sheep, and am known of mine.'

Is it so? We trust that we are Christ's sheep. We trust that he knows us: but do we know him? What answer shall we make to that question, Do you know Christ? I do not mean, Do you know ABOUT Christ? You may know ABOUT a person without knowing the person himself when you see him. I do not mean, Do you know doctrines about Christ? though that is good and necessary. Nor, Do you know what Christ has done for your soul? though that is good and necessary also. But, Do you know Christ himself? You have never seen him.

True: but have you never seen any one like him--even in part? Do you know his likeness when you see it in any of your neighbours?

That is a question worth thinking over. Again--Do you know what Christ is like? What his character is--what his way of dealing with your soul, and all souls, is? Are you accustomed to speak to him in your prayers as to one who can and will hear you; and do you know his voice when he speaks to you, and puts into your heart good desires, and longings after what is right and true, and fair and n.o.ble, and loving and patient, as he himself is? Do you know Christ?

Alas! my friends, what a poor answer we can make to that question?

How little do we know Christ?

What would become of us, if he were like us?--If he were one who bargained with us, and said--'Unless you know me, I will not take the trouble to know you. Unless you care for me, you cannot expect me to care for you.' What would become of us, if G.o.d said, 'As you do to me, so will I do to you?'

But our only hope lies in this, that in Christ the Lord is no spirit of bargaining, no pride, no spite, no rendering evil for evil. In this is our hope; that he is the likeness of his Father's glory, and the express image of his person; perfect as his Father is perfect; that like his Father, he causeth his rain to fall on the evil and the good; and his sun to shine on the just and on the unjust; and is good to the unthankful and the evil--to you and me--and knows us, though we know him not; and cares for us, though we care not for him; and leads us his way, like a good shepherd, when we fancy in our conceit that we are going in our own way. This is our hope, that his love is greater than our stupidity; that he will not tire of us, and our fancies, and our self-will, and our laziness, in spite of all our peevish tempers, and our mean and fruitless suspicions of his goodness. No! He will not tire of us, but will seek us, and save us when we go astray. And some day, somewhere, somehow, he will open our eyes, and let us see him as he is, and thank him as he deserves.

Some day, when the veil is taken off our eyes, we shall see like those disciples at Emmaus, that Jesus has been walking with us, and breaking our bread for us, and blessing us, all our lives long; and that when our hearts burned within us at n.o.ble thoughts, and stories of n.o.ble and righteous men and women, and at the hope that some day good would conquer evil, and heaven come down on earth, then--so we shall find--G.o.d had been dwelling among men all along--even Jesus, who was dead, and is alive for evermore, and has the keys of death and h.e.l.l, and knows his sheep in this world, and in all worlds, past, present, and to come, and leads them, and will lead them for ever, and none can pluck them out of his hand. Amen.

SERMON XXVIII. DARK TIMES

1 JOHN iv. 16-18.

We have known and believed the love that G.o.d hath to us. G.o.d is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in G.o.d, and G.o.d in him.

Herein is our love made perfect, that we may have boldness in the day of judgment; because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love but perfect love casteth out fear; because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.

Have we learnt this lesson? Our reading, and thinking, and praying, have been in vain, unless they have helped us to believe and know the love which G.o.d has to us. But, indeed, no reading, or thinking, or praying will teach us that perfectly. G.o.d must teach it us himself.

It is easy to say that G.o.d is love; easy to say that Christ died for us; easy to say that G.o.d's Spirit is with us; easy to say all manner of true doctrines, and run them off our tongues at second-hand; easy for me to stand up here and preach them to you, just as I find them written in a book. But do I believe what I say? Do you believe what you say? There is an awful question. We believe it all now, or think we believe it, while we are easy and comfortable: but should we have boldness in the day of judgment?--Should we believe it all, if G.o.d visited us, to judge us, and try us, and pierce asunder the very joints and marrow of our heart with fearful sorrow and temptation? O Lord, who shall stand in that day?

Suppose, for instance, G.o.d were to take away the desire of our eyes, with a stroke. Suppose we were to lose a wife, a darling child; suppose we were struck blind, or paralytic; suppose some unspeakable, unbearable shame fell on us to-morrow: could we say then, G.o.d is love, and this horrible misery is a sign of it? He loves me, for he chastens me? Or should we say, like Job's wife, and one of the foolish women, 'Curse G.o.d and die?' G.o.d knows.

Ah, when that dark day seems coming on us, and bringing some misery which looks to us beforehand quite unbearable--then how our lip- belief and book-faith is tried, and burnt up in the fire of G.o.d, and in the fire of our own proud, angry hearts, too! How we struggle and rage at first at the very thought of the coming misery; and are ready to say, G.o.d will not do this! He cannot--cannot be so unjust, so cruel, as to bring this misery on me. What have I done to deserve it? Or, if I have deserved it, what have these innocents done? Why should they be punished for my sins? After all my prayers, too, and my church-goings, and my tryings to be good. Is this G.o.d's reward for all my trouble to please him? Then how vain all our old prayers seem; how empty and dry all ordinances. We cry, I have cleansed my hands in vain, and in vain washed my heart in innocency. We have no heart to pray to G.o.d. If he has not heard our past prayers, why should we pray anymore? Let us lie down and die; let us bear his heavy hand, if we must bear it, sullenly, desperately: but, as for saying that G.o.d is love, or to say that we know the love which G.o.d has for us, we say in our hearts, Let the clergyman talk of that; it is his business to speak about it; or comfortable, easy people, who are not watering their pillow with bitter tears all night long. But if they were in my place (says the unhappy man), they would know a little more of what poor souls have to go through: they would talk somewhat less freely about its being a sin to doubt G.o.d's love. He has sent this great misery on me. How can I tell what more he may not send? How can I help being afraid of G.o.d, and looking up to him with tormenting fear?

Yes, my friends. These are very terrible thoughts--very wrong thoughts some of them, very foolish thoughts some of them, though pardonable enough; for G.o.d pardons them, as we shall see. But they are real thoughts. They are what really come into people's minds every day; and I am here to talk to you about what is really going on in your soul, and mine; not to repeat to you doctrines at second-hand out of a book, and say, There, that is what you have to believe and do; and, if you do not, you will go to h.e.l.l: but to speak to you as men of like pa.s.sions with myself; as sinning, sorrowing, doubting, struggling human beings; and to talk to you of what is in my own heart, and will be in your hearts too, some day, if it has not been already. This is the experience of all REAL men, all honest men, who ever struggled to know and to do what is right. David felt it all.