Hezekiah, you see, was horribly afraid of death. I do not mean that he was afraid of going to h.e.l.l, for he does not say so: but he felt, to use his own words, 'The grave cannot praise thee, death cannot celebrate thee: they that go down into the pit cannot hope for thy truth.' And, therefore, death looked to him an ugly and an evil thing--as it is; the Lord's enemy, and his last enemy, the one with which he will have the longest and sorest fight. He conquered death by rising from the dead: but nevertheless we die; and death is an ugly, fearful, hateful thing in itself, and rightly called the King of Terrors: for terrible it is to those who do not know that Christ has conquered it. Hezekiah lived before the Lord Jesus came into the flesh to bring life and immortality to light, by rising from the dead; and, therefore, the life after death was not brought to light to him, any more than it was to David, or any other Old Testament Jew. He dreaded it, because he knew not what would come after death. And, therefore, he prayed hard not to die. He did not pray altogether in a right way: but still he prayed. 'Remember now, O Lord, I beseech thee, how I have walked before thee in truth and with a perfect heart, and have done that which was good in thy sight.' And the Lord heard his prayer. 'Then came the word of the Lord to Isaiah, saying, Go, and say to Hezekiah, Thus saith the Lord, I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears, behold I will add unto thy days fifteen years.'

Then what was the use of G.o.d's warning to him? What was the use of his sickness and his terror, if, after all, his prayer was heard, and after the Lord had told him, Thou shall die and not live--that did not come to pa.s.s: but the very contrary happened, that he lived, and did not die?

Of what use to him was it? Of this use at least, that it taught him that the Lord G.o.d would hear the prayers of mortal men. Oh my friends, is not that worth knowing? Is not that worth going through any misery to learn--that the Lord will hear us? That he is not a cold, arbitrary tyrant, who goes his own way, never caring for our cries and tears, too proud to turn out of his way to hear us: but that he is very pitiful and of tender mercy, and repenting him of the evil? Hezekiah did not pray rightly. He thought himself a better man than he was. He said, 'Remember now, O Lord, I beseech thee, how I have walked before thee in truth and with a perfect heart, and have done that which is good in thy sight.' And Hezekiah wept sore. But he did pray. He went to G.o.d, and told his story to him, and wept sore; and the Lord G.o.d heard him, and taught him that he was not as good as he fancied; taught him that, after all, he had nothing to say for himself--no reason to shew why he should not die.

'What shall I say? He hath both spoken unto me, and himself hath done it: I shall go softly all my years in the bitterness of my soul.' And so he felt that, instead of justifying himself, he must throw himself utterly on G.o.d's love and mercy; that G.o.d must undertake for him. 'O Lord, I am oppressed, crushed--the heart is beaten out of me. I have nothing to say for myself. Undertake for me. I have nothing to say for myself, but I have plenty to say of thee. Thou art good and just. Thou wilt not leave my soul in h.e.l.l.

I can say no more.'

And then he found that the Lord was ready to save him. That what the Lord wished was, not to kill him, but to recover him, and make him live--live more really, and fully, and wisely, and manfully--by making him trust more utterly in G.o.d's goodness, and love, and mercy; making him more certain that, good as he thought himself, and perfect in heart, he was full of sins: and yet that the Lord had cast all these sins of his behind his back, forgotten and forgiven them, as soon as he had made him see that all that was good and strong in him came from G.o.d, and all that was evil and weak from himself. And then he says, 'O Lord, by these things men live, and in all these things is the life of my spirit.' G.o.d meant all along to receive me, and make me live. He chastened me, and brought me low, to shew me that my own faith, my own righteousness, was no reason for his saving me: but that his own love and mercy was a good reason for saving me. 'Behold,' he goes on to say, 'for peace I had great bitterness: but thou hast in love to my soul delivered it from the pit of corruption: for thou hast cast all my sins behind thy back.'

And, my dear friends, what Hezekiah saw but dimly, we ought to see clearly. The blessed news of the Gospel ought to tell us it clearly. For the blessed Gospel tells us that the same Lord who chastened and taught, and then saved, Hezekiah, was made flesh, and born a man of the substance of a mortal woman; that he might in his own person bear all our sicknesses and carry our infirmities; that he might understand all our temptations, and be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, seeing that he himself was tempted in all points likewise, yet without sin.

Oh hear this, you who have had sorrows in past times. Hear this, you who expect sorrows in the times to come.

He who made, he who lightens, every man who comes into the world; he who gave you every right thought and wholesome feeling that you ever had in your lives: he counts your tears; he knows your sorrows; he is able and willing to save you to the uttermost. Therefore do not be afraid of your own afflictions. Face them like men. Think over them. Ask him to help you out of them: or if that is not to be, at least to tell you what he means by them. Be sure that what he must mean by them is good to you: a lesson to you, that in some way or other they are meant to make you wiser, stronger, hardier, more sure of G.o.d's love, more ready to do G.o.d's work, whithersoever it may lead you. Do not be afraid of the dark day of affliction, I say.

It may teach you more than the bright prosperous one. Many a man can see clearly in the cloudy day, who would be dazzled in the sunlight. The dull weather, they say, is the best weather for battle; and sorrow is the best time for seeing through and conquering one's own self. Therefore do not be afraid, I say, of sorrow. All the clouds in the sky cannot move the sun a foot further off; and all the sorrow in the world cannot move G.o.d any further off. G.o.d is there still, where he always was; near you, and below you, and above you, and around you; for in him you live and move and have your being, and are the offspring and children of G.o.d.

Nay, he is nearer you, if possible, in sorrow, than in joy. He is informing you, and guiding you with his eye, and, like a father, teaching you the right way which you should go. He is searching and purging your hearts, and cleansing you from your secret faults, and teaching you to know who you are and to know who he is--your Father, the knowledge of whom is life eternal. By these things, my friends-- by being brought low and made helpless, till ashamed of ourselves, and weary of ourselves, we lift up eyes and heart to G.o.d who made us, like lost children crying after a Father--by these things, I say, we live, and in all these things is the life of our spirit.

SERMON x.x.xIII. THE UNCHANGEABLE ONE

Psalm cxix. 89-96. For ever, O Lord, thy word is settled in heaven.

Thy faithfulness is unto all generations: thou hast established the earth, and it abideth. They continue this day according to thine ordinances: for all are thy servants. Unless thy law had been my delight, I should then have perished in mine affliction. I will never forget thy precepts: for with them thou hast quickened me. I am thine, save me; for I have sought thy precepts. The wicked have waited for me to destroy me: but I will consider thy testimonies.

I have seen an end of all perfection; but thy commandment is exceeding broad.

The Psalmist is in great trouble. He does not know whom to trust, what to expect next, whom to look to. Everything seems failing and changing round him. His psalm was most probably written during the Babylonish captivity, at a time when all the countries and kingdoms of the east were being destroyed by the Chaldean armies.

Then, he says, Be it so. If everything else changes, G.o.d cannot.

If everything else fails, G.o.d's plans cannot. He can rest on the thought of G.o.d; of his goodness, his faithfulness, order, providence. G.o.d is governing the world righteously and orderly.

Whatever disorder there is on earth, there is none in heaven. G.o.d's word endures for ever there.

Then he looks on the world round him; all is well ordered--seasons, animals, sun, and stars abide. They continue this day according to G.o.d's ordinances. The unchangeableness of nature is a comfort to him; for it is a token of the unchangeablenes of G.o.d who made it.

Now, I do beg you to think carefully over this verse; because it is quite against the very common notion that, because the earth was cursed for Adam's sake, therefore it is cursed now; that because it was said to him, Thorns and thistles shall it bring forth to thee, therefore that holds good now. It is not so, my friends; neither is there, as far as I know, in any part whatsoever of Scripture, any mention of Adam's curse continuing to our day. St. John, in the Revelations, certainly says, 'And there shall be no more curse.'

But if you will read the Revelation, you will find that what he plainly refers to is to the fearful curses, the plagues, the vials of wrath, as he calls them, which were to be poured out on the earth; and then to cease when the New Jerusalem came down from heaven.

St. Paul, again, knows nothing about any such curse upon the earth.

He says that death came into the world by Adam's sin: but that must be understood only of man, and the world of man; and for this simple reason, that we know, without the possibility of doubt, that animals died in this world just as they do now, not only thousands, but hundreds of thousands of years before man appeared on earth.

What St. Paul says of the creation, in one of his most glorious pa.s.sages, is this--not that it is cursed, but that it groans and travails continually in the pangs of labour, trying to bring forth; trying to bring forth something better than itself; to develop, and rise from good to better, and from that to better still; till all things become perfect in a way which we cannot conceive, but which G.o.d has ordained before the foundation of the world.

Besides, as a fact, the earth does not bring forth thorns and thistles to us, but good grain, and fruitful crops, and an abundant return for our labour, if we choose to till the ground.

And wise men, who study G.o.d's works, can find no curse at all upon the earth, nor sign of a curse, neither in plants nor beasts, no, nor in the smallest gnat in the air. The more they look into the wonders of G.o.d's world, the more they find it true that there is order everywhere, beauty everywhere, fruitfulness everywhere, usefulness everywhere--that all things continue as at the beginning; that, as the psalmist says in another place, G.o.d has made them fast for ever and ever, and given them a law which cannot be broken. And if you will look at Genesis viii. 21, 22, you will find from the plain words of Scripture itself, that Adam's curse, whatever it was, was taken off after the flood, 'And the Lord smelled a sweet savour: and the Lord said in his heart, I will not again curse the ground any more for man's sake; for the imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth; neither will I again smite any more everything living, as I have done. While the earth remaineth, seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease.'

Therefore, my friends, open your eyes and your hearts freely to the message which G.o.d is sending you, in summer and winter, in seed-time and in harvest, in sunshine and in storm; that G.o.d is not a hard G.o.d, a revengeful G.o.d, a G.o.d of curses, who is extreme to mark what is done amiss, and keepeth his anger for ever. No: but that he is your Father in heaven, who hateth nothing that he has made, and whose mercy is over all his works; who made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that therein is; who keepeth truth for ever; who helpeth them to right that suffer wrong; who feedeth the hungry; a G.o.d who feeds the birds of the air, though they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; and who clothes the gra.s.s of the field, which toils not, neither doth it spin; and who will much much more clothe and feed you, to whom he has given reason, understanding, and the power of learning his laws, the rules by which this world of his is made and works, and of turning them to your own profit in rational and honest labour.

And think, my friends, if the old Psalmist, before Christ came, could believe all this, and find comfort in it, much more ought we.

Shame to us if we do not. I had almost said, we deny Christ, if we do not. For who said those last words concerning the birds of the air, and the gra.s.s of the field? Who told us that we have not merely a Master or a Judge in heaven, but a Father in heaven? Who but that very Word of G.o.d, whom the Psalmist saw dimly and afar off?

He knew that the Word of G.o.d abode for ever in heaven: but he knew not, as far as we can tell, that that same Word would condescend to be made flesh, and dwell among men that we might see his glory, full of grace and truth. The old Psalmist knew that G.o.d's word was full of truth, and that gave him comfort in the wild and sad times in which he lived; but he did not know--none of the Old Testament prophets knew,--how full G.o.d's word was of grace also. That he was so full of love, condescension, pity, generosity, so full of longing to seek and save all that was lost, to set right all that was wrong, in one word again, so full of grace, that he would condescend to be born of the Virgin Mary, suffer under Pontius Pilate, to be crucified, dead and buried, that he might become a faithful High Priest for us, full of understanding, fellow-feeling, pity, love, because he has been tempted in all things like as we are, yet without sin.

My friends, was not the old Psalmist a Jew, and are not we Christian men? Then, if the old Psalmist could trust G.o.d, how much more should we? If he could find comfort in the thought of G.o.d's order, how much more should we? If he could find comfort in the thought of his justice, how much more should we? If he could find comfort in the thought of his love, how much more should we? Yes; let us be full of troubles, doubts, sorrows; let times be uncertain, dark, and dangerous; let strange new truths be discovered, which we cannot, at first sight, fit into what we know to be true already: we can still say, 'I will not fear, though the earth be moved, and the hills be carried into the midst of the sea.' For the word of G.o.d abideth for ever in heaven, even Jesus Christ, who is the Light of the world and the Life of men. To him all power is given in heaven and earth. He is set on the throne, judging right, and ministering true judgment among the people. All things, as the Psalmist says, come to an end.

All men's plans, men's notions, men's systems, men's doctrines, grow old, wear out, and perish.

The old order changes, giving place to the new: But G.o.d fulfils himself in many ways.

For men are not ruling the world. Christ is ruling the world, and his commandment is exceeding broad. His laws are broad enough for all people, all countries, all ages; and strangely as they may seem to work, in the eyes of us short-sighted timorous human beings, still all is going well, and all will go well; for Christ reigns, and will reign, till he has put all enemies under his feet, and G.o.d be all in all.

SERMON x.x.xIV. [GREEK: EN TOYTO NIKA]

(Good Friday, 1860.)

1 Corinthians i. 23-25. But we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling-block, and unto the Greeks foolishness; but unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of G.o.d, and the wisdom of G.o.d. Because the foolishness of G.o.d is wiser than men; and the weakness of G.o.d is stronger than men.

The foolishness of G.o.d? The weakness of G.o.d? These are strange words. But they are St. Paul's words, not mine. If he had not said them first, I should not dare to say them now.

But what do they mean? Can G.o.d be weak? Can G.o.d be foolish? No, says St. Paul. Nothing less. For so strong is G.o.d, that his very weakness, if he seems weak, is stronger than all mankind. So wise is G.o.d, that his very foolishness, if he seems foolish, is wiser than all mankind.

Why then talk of the weakness of G.o.d, of the foolishness of G.o.d, if he be neither weak nor foolish? Why use words which seem blasphemous, if they are not true?

I do not say these ugly words for myself. St. Paul did not say these ugly words for himself. But men have said them; too many men, and too often. The Jews, who sought after a sign, said them in St.

Paul's time. The Corinthian Greeks, who sought after wisdom, said them also. There are men who say them now. We all are tempted at times to say them in our hearts. As often as we forget Good Friday, and what Good Friday means, and what Good Friday brought to all mankind, we do say them in our hearts; and charge G.o.d--though we should not like to confess it even to ourselves--with weakness and with folly.

Now, how is this? Let us consider, first, how it was with these Jews and Greeks.

Why did the cross of Christ, and the message of Good Friday, seem to them weakness and folly? Why did they answer St. Paul, 'Your Christ cannot be G.o.d, or he would never have allowed himself to be crucified?'

The Jews required a sign; a sign from heaven; a sign of G.o.d's power.

Thunder and earthquakes, armies of angels, taking vengeance on the heathen; these were the signs of Christ which they expected. A Christ who came in such awful glory as that, they would accept, and follow, and look to him to lead them against the Romans, that they might conquer them, and all the nations upon earth. And all that St. Paul gave them, was a sign of Christ's weakness. 'He was despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief... . He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows, yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of G.o.d, and afflicted. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth.' Then said the Jews-- This is no Christ for us, this weak, despised, crucified Christ.

Then answered St. Paul--Weak? I tell you that what seems to you weakness, is the very power of G.o.d. You Jews wish to conquer all mankind: and behold, instead, you yourselves are rushing to ruin and destruction: but what you cannot do, Christ on his cross can do. Weak, shamed, despised, dying man as he seemed, he is still conqueror; and he will conquer all mankind at last, and draw all men to himself. Know that what seems to you weakness, is the very power of G.o.d; the power of doing good, and of suffering all things, that he may do good: and that _that_ will conquer the world, when riches and glory, and armies, aye, the very thunder and the earthquake, have failed utterly.

The Greeks, again, sought after wisdom. If St. Paul was (as he said) the apostle of G.o.d, then they expected him to argue with them on cunning points of philosophy; about the being of G.o.d, the nature of the world and of the soul; about finite and infinite, cause and effect, being and not being, and all those dark questions with which they astonished simple people, and gained power over them, and set up for wise men and teachers to their own profit and glory, pampering their own luxury and self-conceit. And all St. Paul gave them, seemed to them mere foolishness. He could have argued with these Greeks on those deep matters; for he was a great scholar, and a true philosopher, and could speak wisdom among those who were perfect: but he would not. He determined to know nothing among them but Jesus Christ, and him crucified; and he told them, You disputers of this world, while you are deceiving simple souls with enticing words of man's wisdom and philosophy, falsely so called, you are trifling away your own souls and your hearers' into h.e.l.l.

What you need, and what they need, is not philosophy, but a new heart and a right spirit. Sin is your disease; and you know that it is so, in the depth of your hearts. Then know this, that G.o.d so loved you, sinners as you are, that he condescended to become mortal man, and to give himself up to death, even the shameful and horrible death of the cross, that he might save you from your sins; and he that would be saved now, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow him. And to that, those proud Greeks answered,--That is a tale unworthy of philosophers. The Cross? It is a death of shame--the death of slaves and wretches. Tell your tale to slaves, not to us. To give himself up to the death of the cross is foolishness, and not the wisdom which we want. Then answered St.

Paul and said,--True. The cross is a slave's and a wretch's death; and therefore slaves and wretches will hear me, though you will not.

'For you see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many n.o.ble, are called: but G.o.d hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and G.o.d hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath G.o.d chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are: that no flesh should glory in his presence.' For the foolishness of G.o.d is wiser than all the wisdom of men. You Greeks, with all your philosophy and your wisdom, have been trying, for hundreds of years, to find out the laws of heaven and earth, and to set the world right by them; and you have not done it. You have not found out the secrets of the world. You have not set the world right. You have not even set your own hearts and lives right. But what your seeming wisdom cannot do, the seeming foolishness of Christ on his cross will do.

Does it seem to you foolish of him, to believe that he could save the world, by giving himself up to a horrible and shameful death?

Does it seem to you foolishness in me, to preach nothing but him crucified, and to say, Behold G.o.d dying for men? Then know, that what seems to you foolishness, is the very wisdom of G.o.d. That G.o.d knows the secret of touching, convincing, and converting the hearts of men, though you do not. That G.o.d knows how the world is made, and how to set it right, though you do not. That G.o.d knows the law which keeps all heaven and earth in order, though you do not; and that that law is charity,--self-sacrificing love, which shines out from the cross of Christ. Know, that when all your arguments and philosophies have failed to teach men what they ought to do, one earnest penitent look at Christ upon his cross will teach them.

That their hearts will leap up in answer, and cry, If this be G.o.d, I can believe in him. If this be G.o.d, I can trust him. If this be G.o.d, I can obey him. That one look at Christ upon his cross will make them--what you could never make them--new men, filled with a new thought; the thought that G.o.d is love, and that he who dwelleth in love, dwelleth in G.o.d, and G.o.d in him; and that the poor slaves and wretches, whom you despise, will look unto the cross and be saved, and become new men, and lead new lives, and rise to be saints and martyrs to G.o.d and to his Christ, giving themselves up to torments and death, as Christ did before them; and that out of them shall spring that church of Christ, which shall reign over all the world, when you and your philosophies have crumbled into dust.

My friends, let us look, earnestly, humbly, and solemnly this day, at Christ upon his cross. Let us learn that love, the utter self- sacrificing love which Christ shewed on his cross, is stronger than all pomp and might, all armies, riches, governments; aye, that it is the very power of G.o.d, by which all things consist, which holds together heaven and earth and all that is therein.