A growing humbleness of mind
A growing humbleness of mind
A growing humbleness of mind is an attribute in the formation of an elevated standard of ministerial holiness and efficiency, too essential and important to be overlooked. Where is the spiritual minister of Christ who has not detected the latent existence, and who has not had to struggle against — the secret workings of the sin of pride? It is so insidious and powerful a sin — and is so peculiarly intellectual in its character, and exhilarating in the sensations it produces — that few are more liable to be enamored of its fair exterior and ensnared by its specious and seductive form — than the minister of the gospel! And yet, pride is an evil more calculated to feed as a cankerworm at the root of his ministry! A sin more loathed of God, against which His denunciations are more severely recorded or on which His wrath has more signally and fearfully fallen — is not found to exist! Pride originated the first form of evil that ever existed; it constitutes, at this moment, the great center of rebellion against God on earth; and to it, as their primal source, may be traced all the errors, heresies, and schisms that have ever agitated and torn and divided the Christian Church!
Thus, the identical sin which we find to form so impregnable a stronghold of Satan in the hearts of the unregenerate, and which has so sadly wounded the peace, retarded the prosperity, and deformed the beauty of Christ's Church — is the sin most rife in our own bosoms!
Its classifications are many. Among them may be specified the pride of office , the pride of denomination , the pride of knowledge , the pride of talent , the pride of scholarship , the pride of opinion , the pride of influence , the pride of orthodoxy , the pride of controversy , the pride of eloquence , the pride of pulpit , the pride of platform , the pride of success , and the pride of applause .
Pride is a protean evil — assuming a thousand varied and opposite forms. It will insinuate itself into the most spiritual and solemn of our services. There is no soil so holy — in which its root will not strike. There is no employment so sacred — on which it will not engraft itself. It will even make the cross of Christ, a pedestal on which to erect its deformed visage! Yes, while exalting Jesus — we may be found but exalting ourselves! And while exclaiming, "Behold the Lamb of God!" — we may be but veiling His true glory behind our insignificant persons; virtually exclaiming, "Behold my talents, my eloquence, and my zeal!"
Is there not in us, my brethren, a manifest deficiency of the lowly, self-annihilating spirit of the divine Master whom we serve — and whom it should be our aim and glory to resemble? In maintaining our position in the Church, in protecting our prerogatives, in asserting our principles, and in vindicating and fencing controverted doctrines — may there not be a lofty deportment, an air of self-sufficiency and importance, utterly at variance with the "mind that was in Christ Jesus"? Is there not an unholy ostentation , and a desire for self-promotion — in much that we do for Christ? Is there not an eagerness for preferment to influential and wealthy churches, a fondness for conspicuousness of place, a shrinking from fields of labor where no laurels are to be won, from posts of responsibility because they are not good enough for us — and from spheres of usefulness because the aspect they present is discouraging, and the labor they demand will be arduous, difficult, and self-denying? Is there not . . .
a thirsting for human applause,
a studied aim after popularity,
a trimming policy designed to please the world,
a trumpeting of our own fame, and
a vaunting parade of our own success?
Instead of inquiring, "Who shall be most lowly — most like Christ — the least in the kingdom?" is it not, "Who shall be the greatest? Who shall stand upon the highest pinnacle of the temple?" And is there not, among those who possess the advantages of intellectual training, who have gone into the ministry from the halls of literature and science, enriched with their treasures and flushed with their honors — a liability to look down, with an eye of supercilious disdain, upon their compeers in the ministry — the holy and humble, but self-taught men of the Church? Are we not, in many or in all these points, truly guilty before our God?
Has not the cherishing of this sin of pride in our bosom — deeply grieved the Spirit? Is not the real secret of our barren souls, our inefficacious ministry, our languishing churches, our paralyzed efforts — simply the sad but certain consequences of our accursed pride?
But an efficient ministry is a holy ministry, and a holy ministry is a humble ministry. It is "clothed with humility." As a rich and ample robe, this rare grace of the Spirit envelops the entire man, veiling his intellectual powers, his varied acquirements, his self-denying and successful labors — from the too intense and admiring gaze of the human eye; and presenting to view only those features which stamp the emptiness and nothingness of the creature, while God is glorified and praised.
And yet how much is there in us, if soberly and frequently pondered — calculated . . .
to abase our pride,
to repress our aspirings of vanity,
to rebuke our self-adulation,
and to lay us low in a low place?
That God should have deposited the heavenly treasure of His gospel in such poor earthen vessels as we; that He should have summoned us, perhaps, from some humble and retired walk of life — to the great public work of preaching Christ; that He should have given to such feeble and unholy instruments any measure of success; that, after all our schooling for the work and our actual experience in it — our real spiritual acquaintance with divine things is so limited, our knowledge of divine truth so imperfect, and our experience of its sanctifying power in our own souls so faint — that many who sit at our feet and receive the word from our lips are more deeply taught of the Spirit, more perfectly matured in grace, and walk more humbly with God and near to Christ — than we, their appointed teachers; that the secret motives which move upon our hearts and prompt us to action are often found to be utterly beneath our character, our calling, and our professed aim; that if any power has ever accompanied the word we have preached, and souls through our instrumentality have been converted and the saints of God edified — the "surpassing power belongs to God and not to us" — surely these considerations are calculated to make us little in our own eyes, to silence our empty boastings, and stain the pride of our vain glory!
But, oh! An experimental sight of a crucified Christ will more effectually mortify this principle and check this spirit of pride in our hearts — than the combined influence of all the motives that we have urged. Standing beneath the cross of the incarnate God, in view of that stupendous spectacle — the humiliation of Deity; beholding the Creator of all worlds, descending from the heights of infinite glory, to the lowest depths of human abasement, exclaiming, as He sinks, "I am a worm and not a man!" — the Eternal Spirit unveiling this scene to the eye of faith , and imparting a close spiritual apprehension of it to the mind — how is the high look brought down, and the lofty thought laid low! How does the soul sink before the cross — covered with shame and confusion of face at the clear discovery, the awful character, and the deep conviction of its sin — the sin of self-exaltation while setting forth the person, work, glory, and humiliation of the Son of God! "Hateful and hated sin!"
Does he exclaim, "O that I ever should have cherished one low thought of You — and one high thought of myself! O that I ever should have plucked the crown from Your head — and placed it on my own! O that I ever in setting forth Your infinite glory, Your deep abasement and sufferings — should have turned it into an occasion of pride and self-exaltation! Oh wretched man that I am! Lord, can You, do You, forgive me? Never, never, can I forgive myself!"
Such is the effect which an eye resting upon the cross of the incarnate God produces! Oh, brethren, for the keen sense of our personal vileness, which drew the humiliating confession from the heart of the prophet, as the heavenly vision faded from his view, "Woe is me! For I am undone — for I am a man of unclean lips." Oh for the self-abasing, Christ-exalting spirit of the evangelist, when he exclaimed to the multitudes who thronged his ministrations, "After me comes He who is mightier than I, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie!" "He must increase — but I must decrease." Oh for the self-crucifixion of the apostle, when he addressed his epistle to the Corinthian church and declared, "I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle!" "To me, though I am the very least of all the saints, this grace was given, to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ!" But, beyond all human examples of self-renunciation — oh for the spirit of Him who said, "Learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart."
In this school, and at the feet of this Teacher, must we be taught — if ever the Lord puts any honor upon us in the successful ministrations of His truth. Here, and in this posture, we shall learn our utter spiritual impotence and insignificance. Here we may search our hearts, sift our principles, scan our motives, discipline our minds — and get our affections absorbed in holy, ardent and constraining love to God and to Christ.
It would seem scarcely necessary to quote an enlarged degree of the spirit of prayer as constituting a most important feature of a holy and useful ministry. And yet, self-evident as this truth would seem to be, receiving the ready and warm assent of every evangelical mind — the practical adoption of the sentiment may fall far short of its momentous character. If the extended vineyard of the Christian Church requires at this moment a fresh descent and in more copious effusion of the "Spirit of grace and pleas for mercy" — then surely a faithful inspection of our own souls — those much neglected vineyards — will convince us of our more pressing need of the spirit of humble, fervent, ceaseless, believing prayer.
In the previous pages of this work we have endeavored to show that the ministerial character is enveloped in the divine life of the soul. If this position is correct — then it follows as a solemn inference, that the character of a minister of Christ is only truly modeled and properly maintained in the spirit of prayer — prayer being the element which feeds and nourishes and sustains the hidden life of God in the soul of man.
A moment's reference to the history of the first preachers of the cross will, perhaps, convey a more vivid and impressive illustration of this important point, than any we can frame. They were, in a pre-eminent sense — men constant, fervent, and mighty in prayer. It seemed to form — yes, it was — an essential element of their spiritual being. Prayer was the daily atmosphere in which they lived. Their life, though spent in ceaseless and exhausting toil for the salvation of men — was yet a life of habitual communion with God. Traversing continents and ploughing oceans, intent on preaching Jesus and the resurrection — their home was ever by the mercy-seat. They walked — they lived with God. Their ministry was baptized in the spirit of prayer; the weapons of their warfare were perpetually furbished by prayer. In prayer they steeped the precious seed of the gospel — and in prayer they scattered it upon the world.
The sentence of death they had in themselves, that they should not trust in themselves; no high intellectual endowments, no profound scholarship, no commanding influence came to supply the material of their power — or to share the glory of their success. They were deeply schooled in the knowledge of their utter impotence and unworthiness — and thus they were constrained to throw themselves, by a perpetual act of prayer, upon the omnipotence of God. In one brief but comprehensive sentence, their holy resolve is expressed, "We will devote ourselves to prayer, and to the ministry of the word." To this solemn resolution, they strictly adhered.
The order is strikingly beautiful. First, they yielded themselves to the influence of prayer — then they girded themselves to the ministry of the word. How instructive the lesson this teaches! The strength they desired for their work; the humble and teachable mind they brought to the investigation of truth; the light that was shed upon their studies of God's revelation; the wisdom that enabled them rightly to divide the word of truth to every man; the unction that gave tenderness, fervency, fidelity, and power to their ministrations — all came through the channel of their mighty closet wrestlings with God . They first gave themselves to prayer.
Nor did they disdain and refuse, but prized and sought, the intercessory prayers of the saints. How earnestly does Paul plead for a personal interest in the supplications of the Ephesian Christians: "Praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication … and pray also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel."