Plain Sermons, preached at Archbishop Tenison's Chapel, Regent Street. Second Series
Part 16
There is, then, no doubt, because we may read the command for it, in plain words, that GOD willed the destruction of Ahab’s whole house and the extermination of the abominable idolatry of the Zidonians. Jehu seems, indeed, to have been unnaturally ready for the executioner’s office, to have discharged it savagely, and to have availed himself of what is never needed or allowed in GOD’S service, of subtlety, fraud, lying: but still, making allowance for excesses, arising from his natural disposition, from his professional familiarity with deeds of blood, and probably from a proud misconception of the authority under which he acted, it must be admitted that, in the main, Jehu so far did the will of the LORD.
Under what influence, prompted by what feelings, he did it, is a question less easy to answer decidedly. There are some—and not a few—who say that his animus was altogether bad; that carnage was his delight; and that he wickedly, and for his own pleasure and private ends, availed himself of the Divine commission, and served himself under the pretence of serving GOD. That Jehu was selfish there is great reason to believe, and something shall be said on that head presently; but that he was a hypocrite, that his principle, the motive under which he acted, was wholly bad, is proved not to be the case by the inspired commendation of him. GOD has made even the wicked for Himself, He uses them to accomplish His purposes (as He did the Assyrians to punish the Israelites, Satan to try Job, Judas to betray our LORD); but in such cases as they do of freely devised wickedness, what He overrules for His own good purposes, He condemns and punishes them for their offence, though He makes use of it. Now, in Jehu’s case, He praised and rewarded, and so there must have been something right in him: “And the LORD said unto Jehu, Because thou hast done well in executing that which is right in mine eyes and hast done unto the house of Ahab according to all that was in mine heart, thy children of the fourth generation shall sit on the throne of Israel.” And the promise was fully realised.
It seems clear, then, that Jehu’s deeds not only accomplished the Divine will, but that they were done with that design; in obedience and in zeal. They were a soldier’s exact observance of orders, they were the fruits of a servant’s devotion to his master.
We should be able to leave this statement without qualification were it not for two passages in the chapter of the text: the one, that in which Jehu makes such boastful mention of his doings, “Come with me, and see my zeal for the LORD;” the other, that in which the inspired writer records, “Howbeit from the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin, Jehu departed not from after them, to wit, the golden calves that were in Bethel, and that were in Dan.” From the first of these we are compelled to infer that there was an evil leaven pervading his best obedience; and from the last, that other feelings often influenced him beside zeal for GOD, and other lords had dominion over him; so that he wilfully desisted or was deterred from doing all that was required of him. Hence it is plain that we must revise our estimate of his character, to account both for his zeal and want of zeal.
The most satisfactory way of viewing him, to make him at all consistent, is to suppose that, after all he was not a changed and converted man, and did not act from spiritual feelings; but that he was hitherto employed in pursuits congenial to his natural taste, and so found his own pleasure in doing the LORD’S. In the destruction of Ahab’s race and the overthrow of Baal, the soldier exercised the profession which he had chosen and loved. In daring exploits and deeds of blood, he found a carnal gratification. Moreover, he was all the while strengthening and advancing his own cause. His throne was unsafe while any of Ahab’s posterity survived to dispute it with him, his people’s allegiance was not sure while there was any link with the Zidonians remaining; and the LORD’S displeasure at the idolatry of Israel, he well knew, would show itself again, as it had done before, in the withholding of prosperity from them, and allowing them to be harassed by their enemies. It was, then, a congenial and politic course which he had hitherto followed. It may have been done with greater ardour and satisfaction, because it was the LORD’S will; Jehu may not at the time have had any distinct perception of the workings of a lower motive, but still he would, doubtless, have done all, and done it as readily and effectually had he owned no allegiance to GOD, and received no Divine command. This view of Jehu seems to be corroborated by the fact, that when the time was come for him to serve GOD in comparative quietness, he served Him not; and when the performance of the Divine will in rooting out schism, threatened to break up the separation of Israel from Judah, by restoring the worship at Jerusalem, then he not only desisted from the work of reformation, but gave his countenance to the old error, and encouraged the people to go after the golden calves, that were in Bethel and that were in Dan. And so that which he would have others consider, and which, perhaps, he even believed himself, was zeal for GOD, was chiefly the indulgence of his own passions and the service of self; and it came to pass, that he who had done well, even according to all that was in GOD’S heart, henceforth took no heed to walk in the law of the LORD GOD of Israel.
Such was Jehu’s zeal—a natural, or mixed, is not wholly selfish zeal, the zeal of Saul who sought to slay the Gibeonites, but spared Agag alive; the zeal of the chief priests and Pharisees who put CHRIST to death, and demanded Barabbas to be released; not the zeal of Phinehas, of Josiah, of Him who was always straitened till He did His Father’s will; zeal not so much immoderate or blind, as blemished and partial; not being always zealously affected in a good work.
The review of such a character may be very profitable. How many of us, my brethren, are very warm, very exact in serving GOD, in the things to which we are naturally inclined? How many of us, if we bid not others (as we too often do), “Come with me, and see my zeal for the LORD,” at least flatter, and puff up ourselves, in the contemplation of the service which we are rendering to GOD? How many of us have only just as much zeal as squares with our own desires or interests; and in all else, either desist when GOD urges “Go on,” or persevere when He cries “Forbear!” The zealous man has been advised, by a great moralist, always to suspect that pride, or interest, or ill temper, is at the bottom of his zeal. Provided we guard against the grave error, so prevalent in the last century, of despising and condemning all religious zeal, it is well to entertain this suspicion—of ourselves, I mean—till we have proved it to be false, or by repentance and amendment have made it false. For who does not know how much a proud, carnal, selfish, ill-tempered man or woman may do in the service of self, which has the appearance of zeal for GOD? What pious labours men will undertake, if they happen to be in the path of their natural inclinations! What warfare they will wage against sins that they have no mind to! What platform speeches they will make, what pamphlets or letters publish, against the disciples of a religious school to which they do not belong! They are zealously affected; they come out and are separate; they are enthusiastic, energetic, noisy; they put forth all their own strength; they invoke the civil power; they would have authority from the synagogue, if it were to be had, to punish all who do not conform; they smite with the sharp sword of a bitter persecuting tongue or pen; they work, they speak, they give, they fight, they endure—all, they say, in zeal for the LORD; and yet, if you follow them into the quiet scenes of life, if you come upon them where self has nothing to gain or enjoy, or where it has anything to lose or fear losing, to all appearance they take no heed to walk in the law of the LORD GOD. It is very likely that they are not communicants; that they are irregular in their attendance at Church, or greatly wanting in proper demeanour and devotion when there; that they aid but seldom, and slenderly, in the spread of religion around them, and the relief of GOD’S poor; that they are rarely seen to open the Bible; not men of prayer; exhibiting tempers, and following ways which belong not to the holily zealous; tolerating beneath their own roof, or within the reach of their influence, something as hateful in the sight of GOD as the calves that were in Bethel and that were in Dan.
O how many who are zealous at one time, are without zeal at another! How many who make a great show of religion, and talk much about it, and contend in public for it, are utter strangers to its real influence, are wholly without love for it! How many, too, who honestly consider themselves zealous for GOD, are only serving Him in the bent of their natural inclinations, and taking no heed to Him, where self must be denied; like men of cold temperament, despising bodily indulgence, yet making a god of mammon; prodigals, inveighing against covetousness; destroyers of the temple of Baal, restorers of the calves of Bethel and Dan; saints in some things, devils in others!
O ye who boast of zeal, or claim to have it, take care that ye have it towards GOD, and that ye are constant in it! Distrust the energy which works only at times, and in some directions. Suspect the feeling which excites and fills with ardour to-day, but is listless and dead to-morrow; which chooses for itself what to do for GOD, what to think of GOD, what truth to meditate on chiefly, what practice alone to follow. Zeal for GOD is entire, regular, consistent devotion to Him. It fills the whole man with all spiritual desires and feelings; it works out in the whole life; albeit, it is generally calm, and sober, and quiet, not boasting nor thrusting itself forward, not making much ado.
Do not suppose, brethren, that in speaking thus on the subject of zeal, I would discourage, in any degree, the entertaining of a fervent spirit, or would allow, for a moment, that strong feeling and strong expression of it, and manifested earnest activity, are, in the slightest degree, incompatible with real religion. On the contrary, I would maintain that there is no religion at all in the man or woman who is not—allowing for the differences of temperament—stirred within by it, and impelled to speak of and act upon it; who is afraid, or unwilling, or negligent, to show it. Zeal, I maintain, is good—nay, is necessary; zeal, which makes one burn with the glowing thought of immortality, which rouses one to ardent work and holy contention; which finds, and _must have_, its vent in the speech; which shows itself designedly, that it may impress others, and set forth the glory of GOD. Only, I would have you judge of that zeal in others, and find it in yourselves; not in what Jehu did, but in what he omitted, and ought to have done; not in that which indulges natural desires, but in that which crosses them; not in that which secures worldly advantages, but in that which disregards, and even sacrifices them; not in that which exists, or is quickened only in times and places of excitement, but which burns brightest and highest, and spreads farthest, in solitude and silence; not where there is immediate praise, or glory, or notoriety, in the sight of men, but in that which is seen alone by GOD. Seek to be zealous, rest not till you are zealous, for there is no service of GOD, no acceptance with Him but through zeal: but expect to find your zeal, know that there only GOD will find it, in your deep conviction of sin, in the fervour of your penitence, in the uncompromising persecution of your own lusts, in the crossing of your own will, in the refraining from that you would naturally choose to do, and the performance of that you shrink from through worldly motives, in the earnestness of your prayers, in the frequency of your acts of communion, in the diligence of your searching of the Scriptures, in the munificence of your private charities, in the strenuousness of your efforts to do good to others, in the secret contemplation and desire of heaven, in the soul’s appreciation of your high calling, in faithful love of GOD in your hearts! Have such zeal, and manifest and exercise it as often and as consistently as the Holy Spirit enables you, and then the whole of your life, within and without, from first to last, shall have the commendation which Jehu’s at the beginning had; and an infinitely better promise shall be fulfilled to you, Ye shall sit on the throne of heaven with CHRIST, and reign with Him for ever and ever.
SERMON XIX. CHRIST’S COMING DESIRED.
REVELATION, XXII., 20.
_Even so_, _come_, LORD JESUS.
AS it was the common belief of the early disciples that CHRIST was to come in His glorious Majesty, to render unto every man according to his works, so was it a common desire, a frequent prayer, that He would come quickly. They were not content with being merely mindful of the fact that He would come at some time, they were not merely anxious to be prepared, lest He should come soon; but they looked for His coming, they hasted towards it, they loved the thought of His appearing. Some of them, expecting that they should not taste of death till He had actually appeared to them in His fullest glory, looked ever with eager eyes for the opening of the heavens, and the revelation of the Son of Man: others, believing that it was through the gates of death that they should enter into CHRIST’S presence and realise His Second Advent, wished to die, courted death, yea, hardly resigned themselves to the Divine will, that they should as yet continue in the flesh.
Perhaps you may think that this was a natural rather than a spiritual frame of mind. On earth their portion had all along been one of sorrow and suffering, and evil reproach; and prophecy bade them look on for aggravations of what they already endured, and for many additional and greater troubles. What wonder, then, that they struggled to escape from the present, that they shrunk from the future, that they prayed that CHRIST would speedily come to them, or that He would speedily take them to Himself! What wonder that St. Paul, for instance, amid his toils, and perils, and sufferings, and revilings, and failures, and disappointments, with the prospect of nothing on earth but sorer persecution and greater trials, should desire to be absent from the body, and to be present with the LORD! What wonder that St. John, so cruelly entreated by foes, so disregarded by should-be friends, when in the isle of his banishment the voice of his LORD told of His speedy coming, should promptly and ardently respond to Him, “Even so, come, LORD JESUS.” Having nothing, and expecting nothing that flesh could desire; enduring much, anticipating more that was undesirable, grievous, hateful, what wonder, you would ask, that they yearned in their hearts to be delivered from such bondage, and to be transferred to the abode of peace and glory: that they offered frequently and fervently those Advent prayers, “Thy kingdom come,” “LORD JESUS receive my Spirit,” “Even so, come, LORD JESUS”! Even had they expected no hereafter, had they supposed that the coming Judge would annihilate them, or that the grave would bury them in eternal forgetfulness, it would still have been natural for them to have courted and prayed for the cessation of toil and the end of suffering.
So some persons are wont to reason. It is natural, they say, for those to whom this world is a blank or a sea of troubles, to set their hopes on another world. It is natural for those whose life here is all weariness, to be desirous to give up that life, even though they shall have no life hereafter.
But is it really natural? Does affliction naturally make us look heavenwards? Does a troubled life naturally reconcile us to the thought of speedy death, yea, and cause us to desire it, to pray for it?
On the contrary, do we not often find persons unspiritualised by affliction? Do not many maintain that their worldly troubles are the hindrance of religious thought and practice? Is not death by very instinct shrunk from by well-nigh all, and most by those whose circumstances seem to recommend it as naturally the greatest good?
You hear those who are vexed or thwarted, or oppressed, or wearied, exclaim in some moment of impatience or despondency, “I am weary of my life.” You find some so worn out, like Job, by long and accumulated troubles, that they continually sigh, and from the heart, “Oh! that I had given up the ghost!” You hear the thoughtless, the proud, the obstinate, protest “I had rather die.” But let them be taken at their word, let Death show himself to be really close at hand, to be coming to them, and they will recoil with horror from his touch, and piteously cry to be spared. Occasionally one is found who, lacking patience and perseverance to extricate himself lawfully from pressing difficulties, or, mad with vexation because he cannot accomplish some worldly scheme, or because he has been frustrated in some wickedness: or because having done the wickedness, he fears to face the worldly consequences of his deed, not merely says that he wishes to die, and prays for death; but then and there ministers it to himself. Yet even in such cases, while he would escape from life, he does not deliberately seek death. Nay, when he finds he is encountering death, he often desists from his half-done deed, or, if it be too late for that, shrieks frantically for others to rescue him.
There are exceptions to all these rules, when men really wish to die, when they deliberately court and procure death; but they are sufficiently rare to vindicate the truth, that they are not natural.
Certainly the desire and prayer of the first disciples to be removed from this world were not natural. They did not despair in difficulties. They were not unwilling to endure continued trials and sufferings. They were not disgusted with life. All that CHRIST required of them they burned to do; all that He laid upon them they rejoiced to bear; and while aught was undone or unsuffered, they chose and desired to remain; and even then, it was not exhausted nature asking for rest, it was not weariness or dislike of life’s lot which prompted the prayer, “Even so, come, LORD JESUS:” they gloried in their then vocation, they loved their appointed work; they would not relinquish it, they would not be unclothed, but clothed upon, advanced, and perfected: they loved CHRIST, and so yearned to see Him; they loved His service, and so coveted a state in which it could be more fully and uninterruptedly rendered; they loved other men, the alien and the outcast, and so longed for the day when all the kingdoms of the world should become the kingdoms of the LORD and of His CHRIST, when every soul should be subject to and rejoice in His rule! They looked for CHRIST’S coming, not because they supposed it would release them from His service, and transfer them to an abode of luxurious immunity and rest and glory; but because they thought it was the necessary prelude to full usefulness, to entire submission to His will, to unremitted, glorious service under His perceived eye, and in the perfection of His strength. They thought death was gain, and they desired it, not as the time of sleep, the chamber of inactivity and oblivion, but as the door, the short passage, which led into a world wherein the kingdom of CHRIST was fully set up, and wherein they should unceasingly experience His rule, and act as its agents. They prayed that GOD would shortly accomplish the number of His elect, not with the carnal desire that their enemies might be confounded, and that those then without might be kept without: nor yet with selfish impatience for their own promised reward; but that the work of grace might be effectual, where now it seemed to be received in vain; that the darkness which encompassed so many might be dispelled, that all Israel might be saved, and might join them in glorifying GOD.
This was the feeling which prompted their Advent prayers; this was the feeling which they laboured to arouse in those to whom they spoke, and in us, for whom they wrote. When St. Paul tells us, that to him to live was CHRIST, and to die was gain, that he desired to depart and be with CHRIST, though he was content to remain, he shows one of the many respects in which we are to be followers of him. When St. John records, that he replied to CHRIST’S announcement, “Behold, I come quickly,” “Even so, come, LORD JESUS,” he personates the Church and every acceptable member of it, and shows us the attitude and the feeling which becomes each one of those who wait for the LORD’S appearing; even as St. Peter does in direct appeal: “What manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness, looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of GOD?”
Alas! brethren, how far are we below the appointed standard of acceptable discipleship! How little is CHRIST’S Second Advent in our minds, even as a mere doctrine, a truth of Scripture! How small is the influence which it is allowed to exercise on our thoughts and affections, and lives! How seldom do we suggest to ourselves the possibility of its nearness! How faintly, if at all, in what mere words—words, which do not spring from feelings, and are not illustrated by actions—do we pray for its speedy arrival!
Even those among us, who are rightly mindful, who study to be prepared at all times, lest speedily and suddenly the Son of Man should come forth to judgment, or should send forth the angel of death to bring them to His bar—even these can scarcely be said to desire the coming, which they think of and prepare for: much less to pray for it, and to do what in them lies to hasten it. Even if we are faithful servants, able to render a right account whenever it shall be called for, we dread rather than hope for the day of our LORD’S return. Even if we have our lamps trimmed and oil with us in our vessels, if instead of slumbering, we are watching, would it not still be to us an unwelcome cry, “Behold the bridegroom cometh, go ye out to meet Him”? What would be the first feeling of the best of us, if at this moment an angel stood revealed, and announced “The day of the LORD is come”? which of us can honestly, heartily say now, “I would not live always. I would not live till to-morrow, if GOD graciously willed that I might die to-day?”
Of course there are many reasons why we should shrink from an immediate advent. We all of us need to cast off some works of darkness: something is wanting in the spiritual armour of the best accoutred. We feel that we have much work to do for GOD before the night cometh; we have many graces to cultivate and many others to acquire, before we shall be fit for CHRIST’S coming; and, besides, naturally, the unprovided for, the unprotected, the unguided, that will be left behind, if we go, tempt us to linger, with eyes earthwards; and fashion chains to bind us down. But setting aside all this, supposing it all changed, so that we were fit in all other respects for heaven, and nothing and no one on earth really required us, does not conscience convince us that still we would rather not go yet, that we shall be the better pleased the longer we are allowed to stay, that our real prayer (that which our feelings suggest, though our mouths dare not utter it, nor our minds dwell on it) is “LORD JESUS, come _not_ quickly.”