No longer will the keen
No longer will the keen
No longer will the keen but just satire of the poet apply to his once barren ministrations: "The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed." But from the richly replenished storehouse of a mind led into a deeper research into, and of a heart more spiritually and vitally acquainted with divine truth — the souls of the flock entrusted to his care, are nourished, established, comforted, and fitted for glory. Thus is the church sanctified and blessed, through the sufferings and afflictions of her pastors . For if we are afflicted — it is for her consolation and salvation; or if we are comforted in all our tribulation — it is that we may be able to comfort them who are in any trouble, by the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted of God.
Does the eye of a tried and afflicted minister of Jesus fall upon this page? Beloved, consider your present affliction as the choicest period of your ministerial life. The Master whom you serve, has not laid this trial upon you for nothing. He has some great and gracious end in view — the unfolding of some wise and tender design, which has long existed in His heart of love. The point toward which His present dealings tend, there can be no doubt — is your soul's advance in real sanctification, thus securing a greater degree of ministerial efficiency.
A growing necessity may for some time have called for the existing discipline . It may be that an unusual degree of success has attended your ministrations. The wave of popular favor has been bearing you up, and the attachment of your flock has become almost idolatrous. Your varied labors have won to you the adulation of the good and the great, and your praise has been chanted throughout all the churches.
Or perhaps your case is the opposite of this. Your labors have been fruitless, and your strength has been spent for nothing. Few or no conversions, have been the result of all your toil; and to the saints of God, but little unction has clothed your ministrations. The affections of your flock have become alienated; their love and their prayers for you have waned; and those who once, if it had been possible, would have plucked out their own eyes and have given them to you — now stand coldly at a distance.
Now, in either of these cases the Lord may see a deep necessity for the existing afflictive dispensation. I do not inquire into the nature of the trial with which He has visited you. His dealings are not always alike the same. They vary in their character — as they do in their results.
Bodily infirmity, it may be, has set you aside from your work — and you are now the silent preacher of the truth.
Perhaps the Lord is trying you by straitened circumstances, narrowed resources, exhausted dependencies, probably by actual need. Your delicate mind is bowed with care; your tender spirit is crushed with sorrow; and the eye that has so often wept and the heart that has so often bled for others' woe — now, in sad and lonely grief, weeps and bleeds for its own. And still, you are unutterably dear to the heart of Jesus. In the tenderest love, as His son — is your Father now disciplining you. Regard, then, the present as a most important period of your ministerial life. It may prove to be the ploughing and the sowing season of your ministry, preparatory to a rich and glorious harvest.
God has put His hand a second time to His work in your soul. He is separating His wheat from your chaff — His gold from your dross. He is showing you what, perhaps, you knew but imperfectly — how vain a thing is human strength, and what an airy bubble is human applause! And now, in all the emptiness you find in the creature, and in the still deeper emptiness you discover in yourself — He is about to unfold the fullness of His own grace, the tenderness of His own love, and the strength of His own faithfulness.
Your present affliction shall be followed by a holy exaltation; for, "When they are humbled you say, 'It is because of pride' — but He saves the lowly." Sanctified by the Spirit of God, your present trial, be it what it may — shall bring your soul into the hallowed possession of the most costly mercies. God has set you aside, with a view of drawing your attention to, and fixing it upon the state of your own vineyard. And if it leads to a deep searching of heart, to a discovery and healing of the secret decay , to a faithful review of your ministry, the truths you have preached, the truths you have not preached, the motives that have influenced, the aims you have sought; if it gives you a more deeply experimental acquaintance with the word , draws your heart nearer to God, endears Immanuel, lays your spirit low, increases a thirst for a more simple, holy, and unreserved surrender — then you shall praise Him for it now and through eternity!
We must form a distinct conception of, and be thoroughly imbued with the spirit of our office — if we would attain to an eminent degree of ministerial holiness and efficiency.
The office of the Christian ministry, as we have endeavored to show — is preeminently spiritual in its character. It is not a mere moral, literary, or scientific office. A minister of Christ may possess these qualifications; and, if sanctified and held subordinate to higher attainments — they may increase his usefulness, by enlarging the sphere of his influence; but he must possess infinitely more. He is to consider himself as filling an office and as discharging a work transcendently superior to the mere scholar, the intellectual or moral philosopher, the political disputant, the zealous partisan, or the accomplished man of leisure, of letters, and of taste. He is the sworn servant of the King of kings, the accredited ambassador of Christ, the anointed priest of the sanctuary, the steward of the mysteries of God, the scribe of the kingdom, the subordinate shepherd and overseer of the flock.
But what, my brethren, is a lofty conception of the dignity of our office — without a corresponding exemplification of its spirit? It is not enough that, robed in our priestly vestments, we minister daily at the altar of our God. We must, in all the circles where we move and in all the engagements in which we are occupied — exhibit and illustrate the hallowed spirit and commanding influence of our office. Not only must our pulpit ministrations, in the matter and manner of their performance — carry conviction to the minds of our hearers that the solemn truths we preach; but, when descending from the pulpit and mingling among our people, the deepest caution is needed, lest our spirit, our conversation, or our demeanor should weaken the conviction and lessen the impression which the pulpit has produced.
Such should be the sobriety, solemnity, meekness, heavenly-mindedness, lowliness, and sincerity — marking and pervading our entire conduct and conversation. So fragrant upon us should be the anointing oil and such a "savor of Christ" should we be in every place — that, wherever we move, we should be centers of holy light, thought, feeling, and action — everywhere witnessing for God, exalting Jesus, and saving souls.
But where there has existed a lack of identity between the minister in the pulpit — and the minister out of it; in other words, where the habitual deportment and spirit of a minister has not been in perfect harmony with the holy and lofty character he has sustained in the sacred desk — there has fallen a blight upon his ministry, most painful and disastrous in its effects. The sweetness that once blended with it, is gone; the unction that accompanied it, is evaporated; the power that clothed it, is weakened; the dignity that invested it, is impaired; the authority that sustained it, is lowered — and he no longer continues to be the honored and successful servant of Christ. Men come to consider him, as the mere official of Christianity; and the glorious gospel he propounds, as a tale that is twice told. His veracity they impeach; his sincerity they doubt; his motives they malign; his office they decry; his message they scorn; his Master they blaspheme!
And to what single and especial cause, are these awful consequences to be traced? Undoubtedly to the grieving of the Holy Spirit in the soul of the minister! The Spirit in him, thus wounded and slighted — the effect must be felt by all accustomed to wait upon his ministrations. Every class of his hearers will be sensible of it, and will exhibit the evidence — each according to the character it sustains.
And ah, brethren, how soon may that blessed Spirit be grieved and withdraw! The indulgence of any frame of mind or line of conduct contrary to the spirit of our holy office, will grieve Him. A spirit of unfitting levity; light and trifling conversation; a habit of speaking coldly, if not irreverently, of spiritual and eternal things; foolish talking; vain jesting — these, with many kindred infirmities which adhere so closely to our imperfectly sanctified nature, will speedily absorb the spirituality of any ministry, leaving it as a "spring locked up — a fountain sealed."
My brethren, is it, or is it not, thus with us? Are we deeply imbued with the hallowed spirit of our office? Do we, in our lives, present an impersonation of the truths we preach — and are we making full proof of our ministry? What is our posture? Are we coming up from the wilderness, preaching, as we ascend, the glad tidings of the kingdom — and leaning on Jesus, our Beloved, for wisdom, for guidance, and for strength? Do we exalt Him, as being the only object worthy of exaltation? And while preaching Him to others — do we ourselves sit beneath His shadow and find His fruit sweet to our taste? Are we living like men whose home is on the sunny side of eternity — whose one work is to bring men to Christ — and who expect soon to stand before the Judge, to give an account of their stewardship? And do we carry the remembrance and the consciousness into every circle, and with it do we hallow every word and work: "I am a minister of the Lord Jesus Christ — set for the fall and the rising of many!"