And why put cases? Because one finds such melancholy deficiency in sensibility of conscience at the present day, that unless the thing is brought home plainly to one's self it will not be understood. Like David, our indignation is wrought up to the highest pitch by a picture of moral turpitude, so long as we do not see self in that picture. It needs some Nathan to sound in our ears, "Thou art the man," in order to prostrate us in the dust, with a smitten conscience, and true self-abhorrence. Thus, at the present day, eloquent sermons are preached, eloquent lectures delivered, and elaborate treatises written about the principles of grace, and yet the courts of law are frequented, attorneys, lawyers, sheriffs, agents, and sub-agents are called into requisition, with all their terrible machinery, in order to assert our rights; but we feel it not, because we are not present to witness the distress, and hear the groans and execrations of houseless mothers and children. Need we wonder, therefore, that true practical Christianity is at a low ebb amongst us? Is it any marvel that leanness, barrenness, drought and poverty, coldness and deadness, darkness, ignorance, and spiritual depression should be found amongst us? What else could be expected, when the principles of the kingdom of God are openly violated?
But is it unrighteous to seek to get our own, and to make use of the machinery within our reach in order to do so? Surely not. What is here maintained is, that no matter how well defined and clearly established the right may be, the assertion thereof is diametrically opposed to the kingdom of God. The servant in Matthew xviii. was called "a wicked servant," and "delivered to the tormentors," not because he acted unrighteously in enforcing the payment of a lawful debt, but because he did not act in grace and remit that debt. Well, therefore, might the Lord Jesus sound in His disciples' ears this warning voice, "Take heed and beware of covetousness; for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth."
But how difficult to define this "covetousness"! how hard to bring it home to the conscience! It is, as some one has said of worldliness, "shaded off gradually from white to jet black;" so that it is only as we are imbued with the spirit and mind of heaven, and thoroughly schooled in the principles of eternity, that we shall be able to detect its working. And not only so, but our hearts must, in this also, be purged from the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy. The Pharisees were covetous, and could only turn Christ's doctrine into ridicule (see Luke xvi. 14); and so will it be with all those who are tainted by their leaven. They will not see the just application of truth, either as to covetousness or any thing else. They will seek to define it in such a way as will suit themselves. They will interpret, modify, pare down, accommodate, until they have fully succeeded in getting their conscience from under the edge of God's truth; and thus they get into the power and under the influence of the enemy. I must either be governed by the pure truth of the Word or by the impure principles of the world, which, as we very well know, are forged in Satan's workshop, and brought into the world to be used in doing his work.
In the parable of the rich man, which the Lord here puts forth in illustration of covetousness, we see a character which the world respects and admires. But in this, as in every thing else brought forward in this searching chapter, we see the difference between now and then—between "time and eternity." All depends upon the light in which you look at men and things. If you merely look at them now, it may be all very well to get on in trade, and enlarge one's concerns, and make provision for the future. The man who does this is counted wise now, but he will be a "fool" then. But, my reader, let us remember that we must make God's then to be our now; we must look at the things of time in the light of eternity—the things of earth in the light of heaven. This is true wisdom, which does not confine the heart to that system of things which obtains "under the sun," but conducts it into the light, and leaves it under the power of "that world" where the principles of the kingdom of God bear sway. What should we think of courts of law and insurance offices if we look at them in the light of eternity?[6] These things do very well for men who are only governed by now, but the disciple of Christ is to be governed by then. This makes all the difference; and truly it is a serious difference.
"The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully." What sin is there in being a successful agriculturist or merchant? If God bless a man's labor, should he not rejoice? Truly so; but mark the moral progress of a covetous heart. "He thought within himself." He did not think in the presence of God,—he did not think under the mighty influences of the eternal world; no, "he thought within himself"—within the narrow compass of his selfish heart. Such was his range; and therefore we need not marvel at his practical conclusion. "What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits?" What! Was there no way of using his resources with a view to God's future? Alas! no. Man has a future (or thinks he has) on which he counts, and for which he makes provision; but self is the only object which figures in that future,—self, whether in my own person or that of my wife or child, which is morally the same thing.
The grand object in God's future is Christ; and true wisdom will lead us to fix our eye on Him, and make Him our undivided object for time and eternity—now and then. But this, in the judgment of a worldly man, is nonsense. Yes, Heaven's wisdom is nonsense in the judgment of earth. Hearken to the wisdom of earth, and the wisdom of those who are under the influence of earthly maxims and habits. "And he said, 'This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods.'" Thus we have what he "thought," what he "said," and what he "did;" and there is a melancholy consistency between his thoughts, his words, and his acts. "There," in my self-built storehouse, "will I bestow all." Miserable treasure-house to contain the "all" of an immortal soul! God was not an item in the catalogue. God was neither his treasury nor his treasure. This is plain; and it is always thus with a mere man of the world. "And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry." Thus we see that a worldly man's provision is only "for many years." Make the best of it, it cannot go beyond that narrow limit. It cannot, even in his own thought about it, reach into that boundless eternity which stretches beyond this contracted span of time. And this provision he offers to his never-dying soul as the basis of its "ease and merriment." Miserable fatuity! Senseless calculation!
How different is the address which a believer may present to his soul! He too may say to his soul, "Soul, take thine ease; eat, drink, and be merry;—eat of the fatness of God's storehouse, and drink of the river of His pleasures, and of the wine of His kingdom; and be glad in His accomplished salvation; for thou hast much goods, yea, unsearchable riches, untold wealth, laid up, not merely for many years, but for eternity. Christ's finished work is the ground of thine eternal peace, and His coming glory the sure and certain object of thy hope." This is a different character of address, my reader. This shows the difference between now and then. It is a fatal mistake not to make Christ the Crucified, Christ the Risen, Christ the Glorified, the Alpha and Omega of all our calculations. To paint a future, and not to place Christ in the foreground, is extravagance of the wildest character; for the moment God enters the scene, the picture is hopelessly marred.
"But God said unto him, 'Thou fool! this night thy soul shall be required of thee: THEN whose shall those things be which thou hast provided?'" And then mark the moral of all this. "So is he," no matter who—saint or sinner, "that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God." The man who hoards up is virtually making a god of his hoard. His mind is tranquilized as to the future when he thinks of his hoard, for if he had not that hoard he would be uneasy. It is sufficient to put a natural man entirely out of his reason to give him naught but God to depend upon. Any thing but that for him. Give him old pieces of parchment in the shape of title-deeds, in which some clever lawyer will finally pick a hole, and prove worthless. He will lean on them—yea, die in peace, if he can leave such to his heirs. Give him an insurance policy,—any thing, in short, but God for the natural heart. ALL IS REALITY SAVE THE ONLY REALITY, in the judgment of nature. This proves what nature's true condition is. It cannot trust God. It talks about Him, but it cannot trust Him. The very basis of man's moral constitution is distrust of God; and one of the fairest fruits of regeneration is the capacity to confide in God for every thing. "They that know Thy name will put their trust in Thee." None else can.
However, my main object in this paper is to deal with Christian consciences. I ask the Christian reader, therefore, in plain terms, is it in keeping with Christ's doctrine, as set forth in the gospel, for His disciples to lay up for themselves treasure on the earth? It seems almost an absurdity to put such a question, in the face of Luke xii. and parallel scriptures. "Lay not up for yourselves treasure on the earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasure in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through and steal." This is plain enough, and only wants an honest conscience to apply it, in order to produce its proper results. It is directly contrary to the doctrine of the kingdom of God, and perfectly incompatible with true discipleship, to lay up "treasure," in any shape or form, "on the earth." In this, as in the matter of going to law, we have only to remember that we are in the kingdom of God, in order to know how we should act. The principles of that kingdom are eternal and binding upon every disciple of Christ.
"And He said unto His disciples, 'Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat; neither for the body, what ye shall put on. The life is more than meat, and the body is more than raiment.'" "Be careful for nothing," says the Spirit by the apostle. Why? Because God is caring for you. There is no use in two thinking about the same thing, when One can do every thing and the other can do nothing. "In every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall garrison [φρουρήδει] your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." This is the solid foundation of peace of heart, which so few really enjoy. Many have gotten peace of conscience through faith in the sufficiency of Christ's work, who do not enjoy peace of heart through faith in the sufficiency of God's care. And oftentimes we go to pray about our difficulties and trials, and we rise from our knees as troubled as we knelt down. We profess to put our affairs into the hands of God, but we have no notion of leaving them, there; and consequently we do not enjoy peace of heart. Thus it was with Jacob, in Genesis xxxii. He asked God to deliver him from the hand of Esau; but no sooner did he rise from his knees than he set forth the real ground of his soul's dependence, by saying, "I will appease him by a present." It is clear he had much more confidence in the "present" than in God. This is a common error amongst the children of God. We profess to be looking to the Eternal Fountain; but the eye of the soul is askance upon some creature-stream. Thus God is practically shut out; our souls are not delivered, and we have not got peace of heart.