SACRIFICIAL LIVING AND GIVING.
REV. AUGUSTUS F. BEARD, D.D., SYRACUSE, N. Y.
The kingdom of Heaven, in its ways, has many similitudes in the kingdom of nature. The law of the universe is, the giving of the lower for the sake of the higher. The worlds are built on the principle of sacrifice. At the bottom of the scale, we have, for example, lifeless matter. But this is put under contribution to force, and simple matter is organized into systems. And this giving comes under a law; we call it gravitation. Then this in turn comes under contribution to what is called a law of chemical affinity, and matter is diversified, and enters into many combinations in advance of what was. The forces, of which light and heat, electricity and magnetism, are different forms, also expend themselves. Then there is a step up by the contribution of what was, to this end, and we have the first organic process, vegetable life and its forces. The soil under these influences gives vegetable life, giving up a part of itself for a higher end. The vegetable, in turn, gives itself for the animal, and the human soul finds these all in sacrificial contribution to itself, every one giving for that which is higher, to lead up to the highest. Nature is packed through and through with illustrations of this. Thus the worlds are built upon this law. By the law of sacrifice, the lower rises into that which is higher. So Christ taught us it is, and is to be, in the realm of the soul. He taught us by word, by deed, by example, that sacrifice is not only the highest, the most satisfying, the most exhaustive expression of love, but is God’s way for man to reach up to God. It was the climax of this law that found expression in the gift of Christ, and we but follow God’s law in Christ’s way, when we are ready to sacrifice lower good for higher good, to bring into contribution lesser things for greater things. And life rises to its highest when it is sacrificial in its self-abnegations; in its renunciations, when souls are uplifted into heroic sufferings and self denials. In wives for husbands, in husbands for wives, in parents for children, in patriotic soldiers, in Christian philanthropists. Men who incarnate their love in sacrifice rise by their giving. They reach to nobleness upon the “stepping-stone of their dead selves.” They put off earthiness and put on heavenliness. It is God’s law from lowest to highest. That which thou sowest is not quickened except it die. To give is to live.
So we come to the Christian’s highest doctrine. It is that of the cross. We sing “In the cross of Christ we glory.” We accept it as the chief doctrine of our religion. We see the grandest exhibition of it when Christ gave himself for the sake of a greater good than could be if he did not give himself; and we teach that it is the personal reception of this which is the mark of one who has a right to wear the name of Christ. To this doctrine the churches hold. Christians subscribe to it. We stoutly contend for it.
But now for our interpretations of this doctrine. When the exigencies of the world and the demands of a spreading Gospel call for willing hearts, to what degree do we find the principle in cordial and worthy practice? How many are the reasons for self indulgence! How ready to hide out of sight the great central doctrine when appeals come for its practical application! How arrangements are made in churches to cajole out of Christians what they will not give on principle! Who does not know many a church that squeezes out its charities,—if not a good part of its miserable support,—by fairs and festivals, by some wretched subterfuge in which one shall seem to get value received and make no sacrifice, to replenish its exchequer by tricks which appeal to no Christian principle. And how often churches come before the world, which they should be dying to save, as objects themselves of the world’s charities, dying to be saved. That which is ordained to be a dispenser of Christ-like benevolence and to develop the spirit of sacrifice, cannot rise into anything higher if it ignores the only law by which it can rise. The call for enlargement is the call for sacrifice. It is a call that religion shall not alone be a theory to be preached, but a life to be manifested.
* * * * * The call for enlargement of Christian work from every portion of the world, is a call to all. There appears to be no great lack of Christian men and women to go anywhere, to do anything for Christ. But how shall they go except they be sent? And here comes with emphatic intensiveness the appeal of Providence (and I hope with it may be heard the appeal of the Holy Spirit), that those who are engaged in other departments of life shall not forget their service. Let me say it plainly, what is needed now more than men, is money, the consecration of property, the sacrificial life in men who accumulate property. I do not think that there is a more universally unpopular theme to discourse about than money. If we preach about the giving of men, the church weeps and prays, and says “Amen.” But when we preach about the giving of money, how many meet this at least with a mental shrug, and do not love to have the Lord’s days made common and unclean with the money question? That which they have been seeking for all the week should not be dragged in too often on the day set apart for rest. But if we pause a moment, we shall remember how full the Bible is of directions about giving, and how much of the Lord’s teaching had reference to a right use of money. The unprofitable servant “dug in the earth and hid his Lord’s money.” Ruskin, I think, somewhere says that we, in the spiritual application of this, say that, of course, this doesn’t mean money. It means wit, it means intellect, it means influence in high quarters, it means everything in the world except itself. And a very pleasant come-off there is for the most of us in this spiritual application. Of course, if we had wit, we would use it for the benefit of our fellow creatures. But we haven’t wit. If we had influence, we would use that. But we are without political power. It is true we have a little money; but the parable can’t possibly mean anything so vulgar as money.
And yet it does mean what it says, plain money, good, hard, honest money. We are not to “hide the Lord’s money.” So also the parable of the talents means money, and we are to accept the meaning on its own terms, and not to dodge away under a metaphor.
If one man is richer than others, he has more “talents” to account for; and to use another’s words, “what he has acquired is the measure of what he owes.” Why is one man richer than another; that he may higher arch his own gates, pave better his own threshold, enrich more gorgeously his own chambers with all manner of costliness? No doubt, as a steward he may rejoice in his stewardship, but do we remember in just what catalogue inspiration places covetousness? Has any Christian a right to live for self, to cling to riches for self-aggrandizement, to consume riches upon his own lusts or set at naught the infinite urgency of the world’s wants? No, friends. There is a kind of justice in a certain thought of communism. God’s law of life is a law of service. No man has a right under Christ’s law of life to heap up riches in order to lord it over men, only to serve them. Ye have heard, said Christ, how, among the Gentiles, they that will be great exercise authority; they use their strength to exact from others, but it shall not be so among you. He that will be great among you, let him serve others, and be ye ministers even as Christ came not to be ministered unto, but to minister. And no one has a right to hoard for self-aggrandizement, or to use wealth to exact from others, and communism with all its wrongs has a truth here, but when those who have, use to bless those who have not, then that is the way of Christ. When causes like this before us call for enlargement, there is money enough which should be in the Lord’s treasury. It is there. It is the Lord’s. He gave the quickness of apprehension, the clearness of judgment, the strength of will which secures it.