Or, if the individual is not a believer
Or, if the individual is not a believer
Or, if the individual is not a believer in Jesus, the favorable occasion will be seized upon to open up and press with all fidelity, affection, and earnestness, even with tears — the solemn and irreversible claims of God's holy law; the violation of that law in innumerable instances; the fearful penalty incurred; the deep fountain of evil from whence every infringement of its most righteous precepts proceeds; and the necessity of immediate repentance before God and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.
The nature of the case, however, will suggest and shape the spiritual instruction given. Much heavenly wisdom, divine instruction and skill; a deep insight into our own hearts; a thorough acquaintance with the varied phases of Christian experience, gathered as much from their development in our own hidden walk as from our fellowship with our flock; a mind always bedewed with the gracious influence of the Holy Spirit; a conscience purified with a constant application of the atoning blood; a habitually close walk with God, and an abiding sense of the preciousness of Christ, the nearness of death, and the tremendous realities of an eternal world — are points absolutely indispensable in him, a great portion of whose time is spent in houses of mourning, in chambers of sickness, and by the side of dying beds.
I ask, then, my brethren, is not the spiritual character of our office of the most exalted kind — and can we properly and efficiently discharge its sacred and varied duties, if we are not preeminently holy and spiritually-minded men?
The second duty to which I allude as illustrating the high spirituality of our work, is the administration of the Lord's Supper . Can we imagine a service the performance of which would seem more incongruous to a mind enfeebled by a waning spirituality, than this? To be brought so near our crucified Master, to react, as it were, the affecting scenes of His death, to stand beneath His cross and tell of His deep, vast, incomprehensible love — what seraph's ardor, what angel's tongue, is equal? And yet our hands are to break this bread and pour out this wine — and our lips are to unfold this amazing dying love of Christ!
What a deeply spiritual service is it! What primitive simplicity should distinguish its form, and apostolic holiness, solemnity, devoutness, and unction — should mark its administration! What glowing thoughts of Jesus should we be perpetually cherishing! What exalted views of His personal glory, His sacrificial work, and His vast love! And what habitual communion with Him should our minds be constantly cultivating, that thus we may be as priests ever clothed, anointed, and prepared for the sacrifice.
We are now prepared to regard the tendencies to a lessening personal spirituality which the ministerial work involves. That so divine an office and so spiritual a work, should involve tendencies to a deteriorating piety in the ministerial character, that there should exist a necessity to fortify the mind against temptations of a peculiar cast growing out of the most holy and God-like of all engagements — is a proposition almost as incredible as it is startling; and in some minds will awaken the feeling of doubt blended with an emotion of surprise.
They have been accustomed to regard the Christian ministry as a vineyard within whose sacred enclosure nothing could grow but the fairest flowers of grace, and the most costly fruits of righteousness. Accustomed to view our work as most favorable to the cultivation of personal holiness — they have been at times moved to look with an eye of holy envy upon us, all whose moral and intellectual powers were so professedly merged, absorbed, and sanctified in the study and contemplation of holy things.
How, my brethren, could we be otherwise than pre-eminently holy, God-like, Christ-like — our spirituality of mind far in the ascendant of all other Christians, and infinitely less of human imperfection and defilement adhering to us than to them — is a point utterly inexplicable. And well may they marvel that we should treat of the "deep things of God" and not sink into their very depth; that we should seem to kindle as with a seraph's ardor — and yet mourn in secret over the insensibility of our own hearts; that we should appear enveloped in a flame of self-consuming love and zeal for God — and yet confess in secret the marble coldness of our souls; that we should seem to soar as with an angel's wing — and yet lament before God that our "soul clings to the dust"; that with an array of "exceeding great and precious promises" we should be able to dry the mourner's tear and heal the wounded spirit and lighten the burdened heart — while in lonely sorrow we wept and bled and bowed to the earth, crushed beneath the power of trial, of sin, and unbelief — well may they marvel, my brethren, that we can speak of God's amazing love — and taste so little of its sweetness; that we can descant on the glories of Christ — and be so little enamored with His loveliness; that we can dilate upon the beauties of holiness — and approximate so little in conformity to the divine image; that we can administer the most solemn ordinances and be engaged in the most spiritual services — with the spirit of inward transforming holiness at so low an ebb, with the springs of sanctity and vigor so dry, with the anointings of the Holy One so far evaporated — is a fact almost too fearful to entertain, and yet too real to doubt.
The Christian minister may, in a peculiar and emphatic sense, be said to live not for himself, but for others. The Christianity he preaches, the Master he serves, the office he fills, and the motives which govern him — all tend to inspire him with the spirit, and to strengthen within him the principle of supreme self-sacrifice and self-devotion to a work of the most expansive and unselfish benevolence. But how fearfully does he thus peril his own soul! With all thought and solicitude, sympathy and prayer, time and research expended and exhausted in making sure the salvation of others — his own salvation may well near be lost sight of. As it regards his individual, spiritual, and eternal interests — he may be lost in perfect oblivion of himself. The thought may seldom recur to his mind, or with such faintness as to leave no deep, abiding, and solemn conviction, that as difficult as it is to save those that hear him — infinitely more difficult is it to save himself.
Who stands upon an elevation so conspicuous, or occupies a position so perilous, or sustains responsibilities so tremendous, or is exposed to temptations so many, so varied, and so powerful? At whose halting, such serious consequences would ensue; or over whose fall, Hell's loud laugh would more exultingly and triumphantly ascend — who, but the minister of Christ? And if there is singled out from among the "sacramental host of God's elect" one more exposed to the fiery darts of the adversary than another — it is the standard-bearer, beneath whose convoy that host is conducted to glory. If he falls — then what consternation, what dismay, strike into the very heart of the camp!
Absorbed in the cultivation of the vineyard entrusted to our care, we may forget that, deep lodged within our own bosoms, is the germ of all the moral evils, the subjugation of which to the sanctifying supremacy of the truth we labor so assiduously to effect in the souls of others. Here, my brethren, we stand on a level with our flock. Men of like passions with them, partakers of the same degenerate nature; and as they, but partially renewed and but imperfectly sanctified — we stand even more signally exposed to a fearful overthrow in the daily conflict between the law of our mind and the law of sin which is in our members.
Ponder well, this solemn thought! What mighty strength may the sin that dwells in us be gathering to itself; to what rapid maturity may it be advancing — while we are engaged in mowing down and rooting up the noxious weeds and degenerate plants which grow with such fatal luxuriance in the soil and which mar to so great an extent the moral beauty of other vineyards! While watching with a sleepless eye and nurturing with a skillful and tender hand, the precious wheat we have sown in other enclosures — the tares, thick and fertile, may be gaining a rapid ascendency in our own vineyard!
So ignorant may we be of the real state of our own souls, we may even be beguiled into the belief that the fruits of holiness we have been instrumental in producing in the hearts and lives of our hearers — are, by some mysterious process, transferred to our own. Thus we may even be found living upon the piety of others. And because we are engaged in a holy work and cherish a tender solicitude for the welfare of souls and are sensible of a glow of holy joy diffused through our bosoms as we behold the success of our labors — we may press to our hearts the fond but vain delusion, that we ourselves are growing in grace, in knowledge, and in holiness.
While thus for a season rejoicing in the light and pluming ourselves with the graces of others — what a silent and certain and alarming process of spiritual declension may be going forward within the deep recesses of our own souls! What power may the hidden evils of the heart — perhaps some peculiar infirmity of our nature — be accumulating! What vigor, ascendency, and control may some undiscovered, unsubdued, and unchecked sin be gaining, the existence of which we had never suspected, and the growth of which we had never felt — until it had placed in fearful jeopardy, our holiest and most precious interests. Deep veiled beneath the solemn robes of our office . . .
what unsanctified tempers,
what truant imaginations,
what earthly-mindedness,
what self-delight,
what self-seeking, and
what thirst of human applause—
may we unsuspectingly be nourishing!