Christian Mercy Explained & Enforced 5
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V. In conclusion, I urge the CULTIVATION and the PRACTICE of this most amiable and useful disposition of Christian mercy.
1. Let us consider how much need there is of mercy, from the amount of misery which exists in the world. By a figure of speech, which is by no means too strong, our present state of existence is said to be a "valley of tears," in which "man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward." From the hour when our first parents ate the forbidden fruit, they and their offspring have sadly possessed the knowledge of evil. The deep groan with which the great bard represents nature to have marked the perpetration of that awful deed, has been so protracted and so echoed, that it may be justly said, "the whole creation groans, and travails in pain together until now." The world is full of misery of one kind and another.
Poverty, sickness, disease, toil, disappointment, and innumerable other causes of distress, are perpetually at work in destroying the comforts of mankind, and embittering the cup of human life. Could we from some upper region in the air, with powers of vision strengthened for the task, look down upon every scene of suffering but in one populous town; could we penetrate into every chamber of sickness, every hovel of poverty, every scene of dreadful foreboding, heart-withering care, and deep despondency; could we see at one glance every widow, every orphan, every fatherless babe, and all the tears they shed at the remembrance of their loss; could we behold all the ignorance and vice to be found within this town, and the souls there perishing in sin; could all the sounds of woe which, from only such a small portion of our race are perpetually rising, to expire unheeded by man on the gales of the wind, enter at once into our ear, surely, surely we should descend from our elevation determined "to sell all our goods and give to the poor."
But though we see it not, a 'mass of misery' does exist in that town—of which we can form no adequate idea. We look upon the 'external show of human life' as the attendants at a theater do upon a comedy—where the brilliant lights, the picturesque scenes, the seeming gaiety of the performers—exclude all ideas of sadness. To form an accurate idea of the real condition of the actors, we would have follow them to the miserable garrets where they are hourly struggling with poverty and care, where, throwing aside the 'pretend characters' assumed for the hour, and losing the smiles put on for the occasion, we would find them most forlorn and miserable.
So if we go behind the scenes of this life's drama, we shall find an internal world of distress—which meets not the eye in public.
And can we remain cold and unfeeling, inactive and illiberal—amidst universal misery? Shall we give ourselves up to luxurious enjoyment, while the groans of creation are heard all around us? Shall the lament of human woe be but as the serenade of our selfish gratification? Shall the tear fall perpetually with less power of impression on our spirits, than the dropping of water upon a rock? Shall human cries move us less than the sighing of the wind does the mountain oak? Let us all become philanthropists upon a scale proportioned to our circumstances! Let us all be actuated by a noble, merciful ambition to leave the world holier and happier than we found it! There is much for us all to do; and after we have all done our uttermost, much will remain undone.
2. Remember how much you have it in your power to alleviate human misery. Most men underrate their means of doing good. Few are aware of the full extent of their ability to bless others. It may be safely affirmed that there is not one rational being so sunk in poverty, or so circumscribed in influence, as to be deprived of all opportunity of diminishing the sum of human wretchedness. It is to be apprehended that a mistake on this subject prevents many from exerting themselves as they should do in the cause of humanity. They suppose that philanthropy requires, in every case, a large capital of wealth, influence, and talent.
Nothing is more erroneous! It is true, that the larger the stock of those things which a man possesses, the more good he can do. But to imagine that we must be either rich, or great, or learned, in order to be a blessing to others, is a mistake which robs us of much pleasure, and society of much assistance. Let there be only the assiduous cultivation of a merciful disposition, coupled with a determination to exercise it to the uttermost, and it is astonishing to find how many channels will open through which to pour the streams of benevolence. If we have not property of our own, we may be able to exert our influence over those who have it; and we may become the almoners of those who have no leisure or inclination to distribute their own benefactions.
Each of us should enquire in what particular way he can be most useful to the interests and comforts of mankind. Our situation and circumstances vary so much, that the same schemes of usefulness do not adapt themselves with equal facility to all. We should study our temper, fortune, talents, and neighborhood, with a view to ascertain whether there is in either of these any peculiarity which seems to mark us out more for one sphere of action than another; and it should never be forgotten by those who have large means of usefulness, that exertion is binding on them in exact proportion to the extent of their ability.
The responsibility attaching to wealth seems to be but imperfectly understood after all that has been said or written on the subject. It should ever be borne in mind that the exercise of mercy and charity is represented by our Lord in his description of the judgment day, as one of the principal topics of scrutiny in that season of final retribution. What a spectacle of horror and amazement will the rich man then present, who lavished in selfish extravagance that princely fortune which was entrusted to him for the benefit of society. Let such men read the parable of Dives and Lazarus; its salutary and impressive warnings were delivered expressly for them. Wealth considered as a means of sensual gratification, ranks but one step above the acorns of the swine; while as a means of relieving misery, it opens sources of felicity, lofty and sublime as the joy of angels. It is a transporting picture which the fancy presents to the soul, by portraying what the world would be if every rich man were a benefactor; if all our wealthy tradesmen, gentry, and nobility, were to employ a suitable proportion of their property in lessening human misery, and increasing human happiness. But long, we fear, it will be before such a picture will be realized.
3. Let us consider the HAPPINESS attending upon a merciful spirit. Duty and personal interest are in every case inseparably connected, but never more obviously than in this. Of mercy may be strictly said, what is affirmed of piety in general, "her commands are not grievous, but joyous, and in keeping of them there is great reward." It is true that a sympathizing spirit, in some measure, makes the sorrows of others its own, but its tears, like a shower in summer, produce a refreshing atmosphere, and are far more pleasant than that cold stiffness and frosty hardness which prevail in the bosom of the unmerciful man. Think with what emotions Howard must have reposed on his pillow, after a day spent in carrying the cup of mercy into dungeons, as in his dreams he still beheld the captives quaffing the delicious draught.
Think what must have been the sublime bliss of the liberator of Africa, on that solemnly delightful evening, when, after smiting for twenty years on the fetters of slavery, he saw them yield at last to his toilsome and patient exertions; and to the vision which had so often in imploring attitude exclaimed, "Come over and help us," he could at length reply, "Your chains are broken; Africa be free." And even in lesser instances of mercy, there is a luxury which holy generous minds alone can know, and with which all the gratifications of vanity, and the pleasures of sense, cannot be brought into comparison. God is the happiest of beings, because he is the most benevolent. It is expressly said, that "he delights in mercy." We can form no idea of the manner in which the Deity is susceptible of pleasure; it is enough for us to know, that in whatever manner this delight is experienced, it arises from the exercise of mercy; and surely if it administers pleasure to him who sits on the eternal throne, it might be expected to afford some of the purest bliss that mortals know on earth.
Let any man be able to appropriate to himself the language of Job, already alluded to in a former part of this discourse, and his bosom will be conscious of a bliss which a seraph must almost feel inclined to envy, "When they heard me, they blessed me, and when they saw me, they spoke well of me. For I rescued the poor man who cried out for help, and the fatherless child who had no one to support him. The dying man blessed me, and I made the widow's heart rejoice. I clothed myself in righteousness, and it enveloped me; my just decisions were like a robe and a turban. I was eyes to the blind and feet to the lame. I was a father to the needy, and I examined the case of the stranger. (Job 29:11-16)
4. Remember your own dependence on Divine mercy, both for all the comforts of this life, and all the blessings of the life which is to come. It is, indeed, an impressive consideration, eminently calculated on the one hand to encourage our hopes, but certainly on the other to awaken our alarm—that we are all most entirely at the mercy of God. Having sinned against his law we have forfeited our souls to his justice, and depend for happiness on that grace which he is under no other obligation to exercise, than that which he has imposed upon himself, by his own promise. If we are ever saved at all, it must be by an act of goodness still more unmerited than that which we should perform, were we to bestow a favor upon the man who had done his uttermost to injure us. God could utterly destroy us, and from the very ruins of our eternal state, raise a monument to the praise of his justice. The smoke of our torment ascending up forever and ever, would cast no reflection upon the equity of his proceeding, or throw any shadow upon the perfection of his administration.
"God be merciful to me a sinner," is the humble petition which best suits our character in every approach to his throne. Upon that mercy we are every hour living. It is this mercy which keeps us from dropping into the pit, whence there is no redemption; this which gives us every comfort we enjoy on earth; this which opens to us the prospect of eternal glory. And shall we, who owe everything we possess, everything we hope for, to the unmerited grace of God, deny the exercise of mercy to our fellow-creatures?
Shall we, who must perish eternally, unless God be full of compassion towards us—be lacking in pity towards those who are in any measure dependent for their comfort on us? Where is the heart that can resist the force of these considerations? Let us yield ourselves up to their influence, and convince the world that the wisdom which descends from above, is indeed what the Scriptures declare it to be, "full of mercy and good fruits."
Be merciful, therefore, in every other case of human misery, to the extent of your ability. Many will bless you for your benevolence. And even if gratitude had left the earth, your witness is in heaven, and your reward is on high. A day is approaching when, not a cup of cold water administered to the parched lips of wretchedness, in obedience to the authority, and in imitation of the mercy, of God, shall be either forgotten, or overlooked, by him who has the destiny of man at his disposal. To the solemnities and decisions of that day I refer you!
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