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And I say that these are proper thoughts for this place.  This is not a mere preaching-house, where you may learn every man to save his own soul; this is a far nobler place; this building belongs to the National Church of England, and we worship here, not merely as men, but as men of England, citizens of a Christian country, come here to learn not merely how to save ourselves, but how to help towards the saving of our families, our parish, and our nation; and therefore we must know what a country and a nation mean, and what is the meaning of that glorious and divine word, “a citizen;” that by learning what it is to be a citizen of England, we may go on to learn fully what it is to be a citizen of the kingdom of God.

For this is part of the whole counsel of God, which He reveals in His Holy Bible; and this also we must not, and dare not, shun declaring in these days.

SERMON XIII
ABRAHAM’S OBEDIENCE

Hebrews, xi. 17–19

“By faith Abraham, when he was tried, offered up Isaac; and he that had received the promises offered up his only-begotten son, of whom it was said, That in Isaac shall thy seed be called: accounting that God was able to raise him up, even from the dead; from whence also he received him in a figure.”

In this chapter we come to the crowning point of Abraham’s history, the highest step and perfection of his faith; beyond which it seems as if man’s trust in God could no further go.

You know, most of you, doubtless, that Isaac, Abraham’s son, was come to him out of the common course of nature—when he and his wife, Sarah, were of an age which seemed to make all chance of a family utterly hopeless.  You remember how God promised Abraham that this boy should be born to him at a certain time, when He appeared to him on the plains of Mamre, in that most solemn and deep-meaning vision of which I spoke to you last Sunday.  You remember, too, no doubt, most of you, how God had promised Abraham again and again, that in his seed, his children, all the nations of the earth should be blessed; so that all Abraham’s hopes were wrapped up in this boy Isaac; he was his only son, whom he loved; he was the child of his old age, his glory and his joy; he was the child of God’s promises.  Every time Abraham looked at him he felt that Isaac was a wonderful child: that God had a great work for him to do; that from that single boy a great nation was to spring, as many in multitude as the stars in the sky, or the sand on the sea-shore, for the great Almighty God had said it.  And he knew, too, that from that boy, who was growing up by him in his tent, all the nations in the earth should be blessed: so that Isaac, his son, was to Abraham a daily sacrament, as I may say, a sign and a pledge that God was with him, and would be true to him; that as surely as God had wonderfully and beyond all hope given him that son, so wonderfully and beyond all hope He would fulfil all His other promises.  Conceive, then, if you can, what Abraham’s astonishment, and doubt, and terror, and misery, must have been at such a message as this from the very God who had given Isaac to him: “And it came to pass after these things that God did tempt Abraham, and said unto him, Abraham: and he said, Behold, here I am.  And he said, Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt-offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of.”

What a storm of doubt it must have raised in Abraham’s mind!  How unable he must have been to say whether that message came from a good or bad spirit, or commanded him to do a good action or a bad one; that the same God who had said, “Whoso sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed;” who had forbidden murder as the very highest of crimes, should command him to shed the blood of his own son; that the same God who had promised him that in Isaac all the nations of the earth should be blessed, should command him to put to death that very son upon whom all his hopes depended!  Fearful, indeed, must have been the struggle in Abraham’s mind, but the good and the right thought conquered at last.  His feeling was, no doubt, ‘This God who has blessed me so long, who has guided me so long, whom I have obeyed so long, shall I not trust Him a little further yet? how can I believe that He will do wrong? how can I believe that He will lead me wrong?  If it is really wrong that I should kill my son, He will not let me do it: if it really is His will that I should kill my son, I will do it.  Whatever He says must be right; it is agony and misery to me, but what of that?  Do I not owe Him a thousand daily and hourly blessings?  Has He not led me hither, preserved me, guided me, taught me the knowledge of Himself,—chosen me to be the father of a great nation?  Do I not owe Him everything? and shall I not bear this sharp sorrow for His sake?  I know, too, that if Isaac dies, all my hope, all my joy, will die with him; that I shall have nothing left to look for, nothing left to work for in this world.  Nothing! shall I not have God left to me?  When Isaac is dead will the Lord die? will the Lord change? will He grow weak?—Never!  Years ago did He declare to me that He was the Almighty God; I will believe that He will be always Almighty; I will believe that though I kill my son, my son will be still in God’s hands, and I shall be still in God’s hands, and that God is able to raise him again, even from the dead.  God can give him back to me, and if He will not give him back to me, He can fulfil His promises in a thousand other ways.  Ay, and He will fulfil His promises, for in Him is neither deceit, nor fickleness, nor weakness, nor unrighteousness of any kind; and, come what will, I will believe His promise and I will obey His will.’

Some such thoughts as these, I suppose, passed through Abraham’s mind.  He could not have had a man’s heart in him indeed, if not only those thoughts, but ten thousand more, sadder, and stranger, and more pitiful than my weak brain can imagine, did not sweep like a storm through his soul at that last and terrible temptation, but the Bible tells us nothing of them: why should the Bible tell us anything of them? the Bible sets forth Abraham as the faithful man, and therefore it simply tells us of his faith, without telling us of his doubts and struggles before he settled down into faith.  It tells us, as it were, not how often the wind shifted and twisted about during the tempest, but in what quarter the wind settled when the tempest was over, and it began to blow steadily, and fixedly, and gently, and all was bright, and mild, and still in Abraham’s bosom again, just as a man’s mind will be bright, and gentle, and calm, even at the moment he is going to certain death or fearful misery, if he does but know that his suffering is his duty, and that his trial is his heavenly Father’s will: and so all we read in the Old-Testament account is simply, “And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his ass, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son, and clave the wood for the burnt-offering, and rose up, and went unto the place of which God had told him.  Then on the third day Abraham lifted up his eyes, and saw the place afar off.  And Abraham said unto his young men, Abide ye here with the ass; and I and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to you.  And Abraham took the wood of the burnt-offering, and laid it upon Isaac his son: and he took the fire in his hand, and a knife; and they went both of them together.  And Isaac spake unto Abraham his father, and said, My father, and he said, Here am I, my son.  And he said, Behold the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt-offering? and Abraham said, My son, God will provide Himself a lamb for a burnt-offering.  So they went both of them together.  And they came to the place which God had told him of; and Abraham built an altar there, and laid the wood in order, and bound Isaac his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood.  And Abraham stretched forth his hand, and took the knife to slay his son.”

Really if one is to consider the whole circumstances of Abraham’s trials, they seem to have been infinite, more than mortal man could bear; more than he could have borne, no doubt, if the same God who tried had not rewarded his strength of mind by strengthening him still more, and rewarded his faith by increasing his faith; when we consider the struggle he must have had to keep the dreadful secret from the young man’s mother, the tremendous effort of controlling himself, the long and frightful journey, the necessity, and yet the difficulty he seems to have felt of keeping the truth from his son, and yet of telling him the truth, which he did in those wonderful words, “God shall provide Himself a lamb for a burnt-offering” (on which I shall have occasion to speak presently); and, last and worst of all, the perfect obedience and submission of his son; for Isaac was not a child then, he was a young man of nearly thirty years of age; strong and able enough, no doubt, to have resisted his aged father, if he had chosen.  But the very excellence of Isaac seems to have been, that he did not resist, that he shewed the same perfect trust and obedience to Abraham that Abraham did towards God; for he was led “as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth,” for we read, “Abraham bound Isaac his son and laid him on the wood.”  Surely that was the bitterest pang of all, to see the excellence of his son shine forth just when it was too late for him to enjoy him—to find out what a perfect child he had, in simple trust and utter obedience, just at the very moment when he was going to lose him: “And Abraham stretched forth his hand and took the knife to slay his son.”

At that point Abraham’s trial finished.  He had shewn the completeness of his faith by the completeness of his works, that is, by the completeness of his obedience.  He had utterly given up all for God.  He had submitted his will completely to God’s will.  He had said in heart, as our Blessed Lord said, “Father, if it be possible, let this woe pass from me, nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt;” and thus I say, he was justified by his works, by his actions; that is, by this faithful action he proved the faithfulness of his heart, as the Angel said to him, “Now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me:” for as St. James says, “Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he had offered Isaac his son upon the altar?  Seest thou,” says he, “how his faith wrought with his works;” how his works were the tool or instrument which his faith used; and by his works his faith was brought to perfection, as a tree is brought to perfection when it bears fruit.  “And so,” St. James continues, “the scripture was fulfilled, which says, Abraham believed God, and it was imputed to him for righteousness; and he was called the friend of God.  Ye see then,” he says, “how that by works a man is justified,” or shewn to be righteous and faithful, “and not by faith only;” that is, not by the mere feeling of faith, for, as he says, “as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.”  For what is the sign of a being dead?  It is its not being able to do anything, not being able to work; because there is no living and moving spirit in it.  And what is the sign of a man’s faith being dead? his faith not being able to work, because there is no living spirit in it, but it is a mere dead, empty shell and form of words,—a mere notion and thought about believing in a man’s head, but not a living trust and loyalty to God in his heart.  Therefore, says St. James, “shew me thy faith without thy works,” if thou canst, “and I will shew thee my faith by my works,” as Abraham did by offering up Isaac his son.

Oh! my friends, when people are talking about faith and works, and trying to reconcile St. Paul and St. James, as they call it, because St. Paul says Abraham was justified by faith, and St. James says Abraham was justified by works, if they would but pray for the simple, childlike heart, and the head of common sense, and look at their own children, who, every time they go on a message for them, settle, without knowing it, this mighty difference of man’s making between faith and works.  You tell a little child daily to do many things the meaning and use of which it cannot understand; and the child has faith in what you tell it; and, therefore, it does what you tell it, and so it shews its faith in you by obedience in working for you.

But to go on with the verses: “And the angel of the Lord called unto Abraham out of heaven the second time, and said, By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord, for because thou hast done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son: that in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea-shore; and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies; and in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because thou hast obeyed my voice.”

Now, here remark two things; first, that it was Abraham’s obedience in giving up all to God, which called forth from God this confirmation of God’s promises to him; and next, that God here promised him nothing new; God did not say to him, ‘Because thou hast obeyed me in this great matter, I will give thee some great reward over and above what I promised thee.’  No; God merely promises him over again, but more solemnly than ever, what He had promised him many years before.

And so it will be with us, my friends, we must not expect to buy God’s favour by obeying Him,—we must not expect that the more we do for God, the more God will be bound to do for us, as the Papists do.  No; God has done for us all that He will do.  He has promised us all that He will promise.  He has provided us, as He provided Abraham, a lamb for the burnt-offering, the Lamb without blemish and without spot, which taketh away the sins of the world.  We are His redeemed people—we have a share in His promises—He bids us believe that, and shew that we believe it by living as redeemed men, not our own, but bought with a price, and created anew in Christ Jesus to do good works; not that we may buy forgiveness by them, but that we may shew by them that we believe that God has forgiven us already, and that when we have done all that is commanded us, we are still unprofitable servants; for though we should give up at God’s bidding our children, our wives, and our own limbs and lives, and shew as utter faith in God, and complete obedience to God, as Abraham did, we should only have done just what it was already our duty to do.

SERMON XIV
OUR FATHER IN HEAVEN

1 John, ii. 13

“I write unto you, little children, because ye have known the Father.”

I preached some time ago a sermon on the whole of these most deep and blessed verses of St. John.

I now wish to speak to those who are of age to be confirmed three separate sermons on three separate parts of these verses.  First to those whom St. John calls little children; next, to those whom He calls grown men.  To the first I will speak to-day; to the latter, by God’s help, next Sunday.  And may the Blessed One bring home my weak words to all your hearts!

Now for the meaning of “little children.”  There are those who will tell you that those words mean merely “weak believers,” “babes in grace,” and so on.  They mean that, no doubt; but they mean much more.  They mean, first of all, be sure, what they say.  St. John would not have said “little children,” if he had not meant little children.  Surely God’s apostle did not throw about his words at random, so as to leave them open to mistakes, and want some one to step in and tell us that they do not mean their plain, common-sense meaning, but something else.  Holy Scripture is too wisely written, and too awful a matter, to be trifled with in that way, and cut and squared to suit our own fancies, and explained away, till its blessed promises are made to mean anything or nothing.

No!  By little children, St. John means here children in age,—of course Christian children and young people, for he was writing only to Christians.  He speaks to those who have been christened, and brought up, more or less, as christened children should be.  But, no doubt, when he says little children, he means also all Christian people, whether they be young or old, whose souls are still young, and weak, and unlearned.  All, however old they may be, who have not been confirmed—I do not merely mean confirmed by the bishop, but confirmed by God’s grace,—all those who have not yet come to a full knowledge of their own sins,—all who have not yet been converted, and turned to God with their whole hearts and wills, who have not yet made their full choice between God and sin,—all who have not yet fought for themselves the battle which no man or angel can fight for them—I mean the battle between their selfishness and their duty—the battle between their love of pleasure and their fear of sin—the battle, in short, between the devil and his temptations to darkness and shame, and God and His promises of light, and strength, and glory,—all who have not been converted to God, to them St. John speaks as little children—people who are not yet strong enough to stand alone, and do their duty on God’s side against sin, the world, and the devil.  And all of you here who have not yet made up your minds, who have not yet been confirmed in soul,—whether you were confirmed by the bishop or not,—to you I speak this day.

Now, first of all, consider this,—that though St. John calls you “little children,” because you are still weak, and your souls have not grown to manhood, yet he does not speak to you as if you were heathens and knew nothing about God; he says, “I have written unto you, little children, because ye have known the Father.”  Consider that; that was his reason for all that he had written to them before; that they had known the Father, the God who made heaven and earth—the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ—the Father of little children—my Father and your Father, my friends, little as we may behave like what we are, sons of the Almighty God.  That was St. John’s reason for speaking to little children, because they had already known the Father.  So he does not speak to them as if they were heathens; and I dare not speak to you, young people, as if you were heathens, however foolish and sinful some of you may be; I dare not do it, whatever many preachers may do nowadays; not because I should be unfair and hard upon you merely, but because I should lie, and deny the great grace and mercy which God has shewn you, and count the blood of the covenant, with which you were sprinkled at baptism, an unholy thing; and do despite to the spirit of grace which has been struggling in your hearts, trying to lead you out of sin into good, out of light into darkness, ever since you were born.  Therefore, as St. John said, I say, I preach this day to you, young people, because you have known your Father in heaven!

But some of you may say to me, ‘You put a great honour on us; but we do not see that we have any right to it.  You tell us that we have a very noble and awful knowledge—that we know the Father.  We are afraid that we do not know Him; we do not even rightly understand of whom or what you preach.’

Well, my young friends, these are very awful words of St. John; such blessed and wonderful words, that if we did not find them in the Bible, it would be madness and insolence to God of us to say such a thing, not merely of little children, but even of the greatest, and wisest, and holiest man who ever lived; but there they are in the Bible—the blessed Lord Himself has told us all, “When ye pray, say, Our Father in heaven;”—and I dare not keep them back because they sound strange.  They may sound strange, but they are not strange.  Any one who has ever watched a young child’s heart, and seen how naturally and at once the little innocent takes in the thought of his Father which is in heaven, knows that it is not a strange thought—that it comes to a little child almost by instinct—that his Father in heaven seems often to be just the thought which fills his heart most completely, has most power over him,—the thought which has been lying ready in his heart all the time, only waiting for some one to awaken it, and put it into words for him; that he will do right when you put him in mind of his Father above the skies sooner than he will for a hundred punishments.  For truly says the poet,—

 
“Heaven lies about us in our infancy,
Not in complete forgetfulness,
Nor yet in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come,
From God who is our home!”
 

And yet more truly said the Blessed One Himself, “That children’s angels always behold the face of our Father which is in heaven;” and that “of such is the kingdom of heaven.”  Yet you say, some of you, perhaps, ‘Whatever knowledge of our Father in heaven we had, or ought to have had, when we were young, we have lost it now.  We have forgotten what we learnt at school.  We have been what you would call sinful; at all events, we have been thinking all our time about a great many things beside religion, and they have quite put out of our head the thought that God is our Father.  So how have we known our Father in heaven?’

Well, then, to answer that,—consider the case of your earthly fathers, the men who begot you and brought you up.  Now there might be one of you who had never seen his father since he was born, but all he knows of him is, that his name is so and so, and that he is such and such a sort of man, as the case might be; and that he lives in such and such a place, far away, and that now and then he hears talk of his father, or receives letters or presents from him.  Suppose I asked that young man, Do you know your father? would he not answer—would he not have a right to answer, ‘Yes, I know him.  I never saw him, or was acquainted with him, but I know him well enough; I know who he is, and where to find him, and what sort of a man he is.’  That young man might not know his father’s face, or love him, or care for him at all.  He might have been disobedient to his father; he might have forgotten for years that he had a father at all, and might have lived on his own way, just as if he had no father.  But when he was put in mind of it all, would he not say at once, ‘Yes, I know my father well enough; his name is so and so, and he lives at such and such a place.  I know my father.’

Well, my young friends, and if this would be true of your fathers on earth, it is just as true of your Father in heaven.  You have never seen Him—you may have forgotten Him—you may have disobeyed Him—you may have lived on your own way, as if you had no Father in heaven; still you know that you have a Father in heaven.  You pray, surely, sometimes.  What do you say?  “Our Father which art in heaven.”  So you have a Father in heaven, else what right have you to use those words,—what right have you to say to God, “Our Father in heaven,” if you believe that you have no Father there?  That would be only blasphemy and mockery.  I can well understand that you have often said those words without thinking of them—without thinking what a blessed, glorious, soul-saving meaning there was in them; but I will not believe that you never once in your whole lives said, “Our Father which art in heaven,” without believing them to be true words.  What I want is, for you always to believe them to be true.  Oh young men and young women, boys and girls—believe those words, believe that when you say, “Our Father which art in heaven,” you speak God’s truth about yourselves; that the evil devil rages when he hears you speak those words, because they are the words which prove that you do not belong to him and to hell, but to God and the kingdom of heaven.  Oh, believe those words—behave as if you believed those words, and you shall see what will come of them, through all eternity for ever.

Well, but you will ask, What has all this to do with confirmation?  It has all to do with confirmation.  Because you are God’s children, and know that you are God’s children, you are to go and confirm before the bishop your right to be called God’s children.  You are to go and claim your share in God’s kingdom.  If you were heir to an estate, you would go and claim your estate from those who held it.  You are heirs to an estate—you are heirs to the kingdom of heaven; go to confirmation, and claim that kingdom, say, ‘I am a citizen of God’s kingdom.  Before the bishop and the congregation, here I proclaim the honour which God has put upon me.’  If you have a father, you will surely not be ashamed to own him!  How much more when the Almighty God of heaven is your Father!  You will not be ashamed to own Him?  Then go to confirmation; for by doing so you own God for your Father.  If you have an earthly father, you will not be ashamed to say, ‘I know I ought to honour him and obey him;’ how much more when your father is the Almighty God of heaven, who sent His own Son into the world to die for you, who is daily heaping you with blessings body and soul!  You will not be ashamed to confess that you ought to honour and obey Him?  Then go to confirmation, and say, ‘I here take upon myself the vow and promise made for me at my baptism.  I am God’s child, and therefore I will honour, love, and obey Him.  It is my duty; and it shall be my delight henceforward to work for God, to do all the good I can to my life’s end, because my Father in heaven loves the good, and has commanded me, poor, weak countryman though I be, to work for Him in well-doing.’  So I say, If God is your Father, go and own Him at confirmation.  If God is your Father, go and promise to love and obey Him at confirmation; and see if He does not, like a strong and loving Father as He is, confirm you in return,—see if He does not give you strength of heart, and peace of mind, and clear, quiet, pure thoughts, such as a man or woman ought to have who considers that the great God, who made the sky and stars above their heads, is their Father.  But, perhaps, there are some of you, young people, who do not wish to be confirmed.  And why?  Now, look honestly into your own hearts and see the reason.  Is it not, after all, because you don’t like the trouble?  Because you are afraid that being confirmed will force you to think seriously and be religious; and you had rather not take all that trouble yet?  Is it not because you do not like to look your ownselves in the face, and see how foolishly you have been living, and how many bad habits you will have to give up, and what a thorough conversion and change you must make, if you are to be confirmed in earnest?  Is not this why you do not wish to be confirmed?  And what does that all come to?  That though you know you are God’s children, you do not like to tell people publicly that you are God’s children, lest they should expect you to behave like God’s children—that is it.  Now, young men and young women, think seriously once for all—if you have any common sense—I do not say grace, left in you—think!  Are you not playing a fearful game?  You would not dare to deny your fathers on earth—to refuse to obey them, because you know well enough that they would punish you—that if you were too old for punishment, your neighbours, at least, would despise you for mean, ungrateful, and rebellious children!  But because you cannot see God your Father, because you have not some sign or wonder hanging in the sky to frighten you into good behaviour, therefore you are not afraid to turn your backs on him.  My friends, it is ill mocking the living God.  Mark my words!  If a man will not turn He will whet His sword, and make us feel it.  You who can be confirmed, and know in your hearts that you ought to be confirmed, and ought to be really converted and confirmed in soul, and make no mockery of it,—mark my words!  If you will not be converted and confirmed of your own good will, God, if He has any love left for you, will convert and confirm you against your will.  He will let you go your own ways till you find out your own folly.  He will bring you low with affliction perhaps, with sickness, with ill-luck, with shame.  Some way or other, He will chastise you, again and again, till you are forced to come back to Him, and take His service on you.  If He loves you, He will drive you home to your Father’s house.  You may laugh at my words now, see if you laugh at them when your hairs are grey.  Oh, young people, if you wish in after-life to save yourselves shame and sorrow, and perhaps, in the world to come eternal death, come to confirmation, acknowledge God for your Father, promise to come and serve Him faithfully, make those blessed words of the Lord’s Prayer, “Our Father in heaven,” your glory and your honour, your guide and guard through life, your title-deeds to heaven.  You who know that the Great God is your Father, will you be ashamed to own yourselves His sons?