SERMON VIII. THE HARMONY OF CHRISTIANITY IN ITS PERSONAL INFLUENCE. EPHES. i. 8. 'WHEREIN HE HATH ABOUNDED TOWARD US IN ALL WISDOM TAKE the smallest, most insignificant, most unnoticed, object in nature, the particle of sand, the blade of grass, the drop of water, the worm, the insect,-whatever hides in the crevice of the rock or wheels imperceptible in the eddy of the air,—add to these whatever is most vast and stupendous, the mountain, the ocean, the glorious handy-work of the firmament, moons, planets, suns, vibrating in boundless space through their range of sweep and with their precision of revolution, inlaid as in a texture, marshalled as a host :-all, when presented to our eye and explained to our reason,-all, when they are not raised to our powers but when our powers are raised to them,-exhibit such traces of design, such accuracies of contrivance, such wonders of adaptation, such master-pieces and models of perfection, so evidently intended for use and so efficient to the full scope of that intention :—that the man, who can attribute all this immense magazine of fixed consequences to accident, must believe that chance is more intelligent than order, confusion more binding than system, anarchy more protective than law. So long as the human mind continues what it is, constituted to reach its conclusions by certain rules and to establish them upon certain grounds, this supposition is a too sublime abstraction for it to conceive or a too idiot babble for it to endure. Our first thinkings agree with the first dictates of religion: "O Lord! how manifold are thy works: in wisdom hast thou made them all.” There is a difficulty, which we all feel, in raising upon the frame of these remarks a higher conception. What can be greater than the material works of God? What can be more profound or more lofty than creation's depths and heights? After the most searching surveys of its ever-spreading realms, world reared above world, constellation fading before yet brighter constellation, ascending from one heaven to a higher still, what can there remain of comparison but the little and the mean? To turn from all this magnificence, must it not be to sink? Can aught but melancholy contrast await us? Can we but feel the mortifying descent? And yet if we will let the Bible school us, we must instantly admit that the volume of earth and sea and sky is so inferior to its holy page, its sublime discovery, its spiritual excellence, that the infant's primer makes a nearer approach to the dissertations of our keenest philosophers, to the records of our most comprehensive historians, to the songs of our most impassioned bards, than the one can do to the other. "He hath magnified His Word above all his name." Here we read the mystery and the good pleasure of His wlll. Here is the imprint of his thoughts and purposes. Here he directly reveals himself. He comes into contact, communication, negociation, with us. He built the universe to prove that he is. He takes a language from it to declare to us his determinations. It is but a subservient apparatus to the scheme of redemption. Not only are the moral perfections of the Deity signalised in the death of Christ, but he is the brightest example of the natural,-the power of God and the wisdom of God. And no more can his physical works divide attention with the salvation of the gospel, than the scaffolding can steal a thought from the temple; or the platform can detain a moment's interest while the train of nobles and warriors is passing over it, with the kingly heir, for his coronation. The Text speaks of an Abounding, a lavish munificence. It is of the exceeding riches of God's grace. With these he is thus infinitely profuse. But there is nothing of an ill-considered waste. Wisdom and Prudence are seen in the supply of adequate means, in providing for probable difficulties, in guarding against probable abuses. Glorious are the gifts: but their right application is jealously secured. The design of this Discourse is to confute the charge against the Gospel that it acts with contrary and discordant tendencies. It is alleged that its effects, when received into our mind, are not consistent and proportionate but strive with each other and draw it different ways. We would endeavour to exhibit that, though there is a variety in these impressions and emotions, there is no incongruity: that they are self-corrective and self-adjusting: that they are adapted, however different, to put and preserve the sinner in that state of mind which is best becoming a creature so fallen and so redeemed. And here we may derive an analogy from the external universe. In nothing is its arrangement more obvious than in the system of checks which pervade all its departments. It is a peculiarity of its laws. By attraction and repulsion, by yielding and resistance, by a diversity of antagonist powers, by a succession of inverse movements, a reaction is constantly excited and a harmonious result obtained. Such are the complex mechanics of nature. By contrary impulses the planets travel their orbits. By one law exclusive they must stagnate: by another, if unmodified, they would be driven from their path. Both are necessary to give the activity, and maintain the order, of their revolutions. If there were only tendency to the centre, all things would consolidate into a motionless, immoveable, mass: if the impetus were always from the centre, all things would be volatile, scattered, strewn through space: nothing kept in its place nor detained for its use. And this equilibrium depends upon forces which apparently present no phænomena in common. Still is the balance completed with so much exactness that a music, beyond the fable and too perfect for our dull ear, may be generated in endless chords: its adjustment is so nice and perfect that the addition of a single atom might disturb it even to disjoint and shatter the whole. This Wisdom and Prudence are manifested, BY SHOWING WITH EQUAL DISTINCTNESS THE DIVINE JUSTICE AND MERCY. These are not rival attributes, nor can they have needed reconciliation. Justice does not arrest the hand of mercy: Mercy does not restrain the hand of justice. Neither is the more prompt or slow: neither is the more earnest or jealous. An infinite placability is anterior to the exercises of both. God is not merciful because Christ has died, but Christ has died because God is merciful. Is justice the first care of His government? Mercy is earlier in its purpose than any government. In Redemption they are mutually administrative: "To declare His righteousness in the remission of sin." They act with no partiality, they come into no collision. Justice is such a form of good, that it exclaims: "Fury is not in me." Mercy is such an advocate of rectitude, that it declares: "Surely Thou wilt slay the wicked, O God." Justice knows no enmity which mercy can calm, no frown which mercy can unbend: Mercy knows no weakness which justice can help, no connivance which justice can forbid. Mercy rather than justice superintends the Sacrifice of the Cross, charges itself with the awful preparations, heaps the fuel, binds the victim, grasps the knife, deals the stroke, pours the libation, kindles the fire, consumes the offering,-while Justice but assents, and smiles, and “makes the comers thereunto perfect." They speak with a united voice, they command with a united authority, they shine with a united glory. Neither excels. The one does not overbear the other. Their common splendour is like the neutral tint, the effulgent colourlessness, of the undecomposed ray. The impression on the believing sinner's mind must correspond. It might be that in another proportion of these attributes our mental balance would have been endangered. Had justice been more stern, we should have been overawed: had mercy been less holy, we might have been daringly elate. We are saved, but at what a price! We rejoice with tremblng. Reverence chastens trust, and trust endears reverence. We fear the Lord and his goodness. We ascribe forgiveness unto Him that he may be feared. And yet this fear does not banish confidence. "In the fear of the Lord is strong confidence and his children shall have a place of refuge." It is veneration without dismay: it is reliance without pretension. This Wisdom and Prudence promote the state of mind we describe, BY EXHIBITING THE INCARNATE SON OF GOD AS ALIKE THE OBJECT OF LOVE AND ADORATION. That Christ should be made flesh was necessary to his becoming an atonement: scarcely less that he might be the way by which we understand and approach the Divinity. He was thus made like unto us. He was born of a woman. He dwelt among us. He had a human heart. He was beheld in a surpassing amiableness. Gracious words proceeded out of his mouth. Behold how he loved us! He mingled his tears with ours. He bore our weaknesses. He was meek and lowly in mind. And this conception of his character, his affectionate image, is most preciously retained and embodied in sacred writ. In reading those holy records which unfold his life, we catch this conception, this image, as though we had actually followed him to where he dwelt, had hung upon his discourse, had sat at meat with him, had leaned upon his bosom. He still receiveth sinners. He is among us as one that serveth. He visiteth our home. He walketh with us by the way. We see him at the death-bed of our daughter, at the funeral of our son, at the grave of our brother, and his love never fails. We are assured of his entire sympathy. He is touched with the feeling of our infirmities. By unimaginable bonds he unites himself to us. "We are members of his body, of his flesh and of his bones." friends. He is not ashamed to call us brethren. loved. But all these kindlier sentiments need to and hallowed. "What manner of man is this!" "We behold his glory." He is Christ Jesus the righteous. He is the Holy one, and that Just. It is He whom the seraphim adore. Let us not encroach on his glorious majesty, nor speak lightly of him. It may not always become us to press the allowance of his condescension; rigidly to enforce what his humility might suggest; to reciprocate in strict correlative every kindred name he gives We may hardly call him Brother, however he is the first us. He calls us He must be be chastened |
