Five Young Men: Messages of Yesterday for the Young Men of To-day

by Charles Reynolds Brown

In that effective cartoon which Jesus drew of the Rich Man and Lazarus, it was the unpaid debt of privilege which brought about the loss of a soul. Jesus showed the two men in this world, one of them living in a palace, clothed with purple and fine linen, faring sumptuously every day; the other in rags dying at the Rich Man's gate, hungry and full of sores. Then Jesus showed the two men in the next world, Lazarus the beggar now in Abraham's bosom, and the son of good fortune enduring torment.

There is no hint that the Rich Man had gained a penny of his wealth wrongfully; no charge of lying or theft, of murder or adultery is laid at his door. He was damned not by the wicked things he had done, but for the lack of that generous and humane service which he had left undone. His sin was that of selfish indifference. The way to perdition is paved with moral neglect. The debt of privilege can no more be escaped than death or taxes. To whom much is given, of him will much be required. And a full sense of that responsibility was brought home to this well-endowed young man in the year the great king died.

The fortunate young man stood out in the open confessing his sense of moral need. There in the place of worship in that high and serious mood which followed upon the death of the king, he caught a fresh vision of God. "I saw the Lord high and lifted up, sitting upon His throne. I saw Him surrounded with the winged seraphs. And one of them cried to another, Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts! The whole earth is full of His glory."

The very sight of the unstained purity of Him "unto whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid," brought this young man to his knees. He knelt in the dust and beat upon his breast and told the sins of his life. "Woe is me, I am undone. I am a man of unclean lips. I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips. And mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts."

The man who has no sense of sin has little sense of any sort. If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves or else we lie. Where is the man who can stand up in the presence of those who know him and say, "Every deed that I have done was done in honour and integrity. Every word that has fallen from my lips has been spoken in truth and in kindliness. Every desire which I have harboured in my soul has been one upon which the eye of my Maker might rest with approval."

Can you say that? I am frank to confess that I cannot. I have done wrong. I feel my need of the divine mercy. I want forgiveness, cleansing and renewal. And every man who is honest enough to look himself in the face, without flinching, will be moved to make the same confession. It is up out of those moments of contrition when men are humbled and broken before God that the spiritual impulses come which are to beat back the forces of evil and make this earth at last as fair as the sky.

I care not what the man's outward station may be—he may live on the Avenue or he may live in the slums; he may be clothed in purple or he may be dressed in rags; he wear a Phi Beta Kappa key or he may be so untaught that he has to make his mark when he signs a mortgage—in any event here is a prayer which will fit his lips—it fits every pair of lips: "God be merciful to me, a sinner."

In that one brief sentence we have the four main terms of religious experience. "God," the object of religion, the ground of all finite existence, the basis of all our hope! "Me," the human soul, the subject of religion, the field where the work of religion is to be wrought out! "Sin," the obstacle to religion, the source of all our moral failure, the cause of our alienation from God! And "mercy," the agent of religion, the form of energy which accomplishes our recovery! God be merciful to me, a sinner.

This young man of good fortune stood up in the temple in the presence of his fellows making his open confession of moral need. "Woe is me for I am undone. I am a man of unclean lips."

In that very hour when this honest confession came from his lips his life was cleansed by the direct action of the divine spirit. He saw one of the winged seraphs flying towards him through the open spaces of Heaven. The angel took a live coal from the altar and laid it upon the lips of this young man. He cried out as he did it, saying, "Thine iniquity is taken away. Thy sin is purged." Isaiah was no more a man of unclean lips—he could now speak with that Lord whose name is Holy as friend speaks with friend.