There ought to be in every baptized Christian, a gradual, steady, and even perceptible Christian progress. Our salvation ought to be ever nearer and nearer than when we believed, not only in the expectation of our complete adoption and removal to glory, but in our fitness for glory, and desire and hope of it. If we have the same evil tendencies, are as easily overcome by the same temptations, have the same dislike or imperfect taste for spiritual occupations, the same poor appreciation of religious privileges and hopes as we had a year, a month, a week ago, then assuredly our salvation stagnates, we are not using what God has given us, we are not yielding to, we are resisting His living influence! Grace, my brethren, is an useless gift, if it is to effect nothing: a time of probation is an idle space, if there is no trial. Faith is little entitled to be called “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen,” if it produces no spiritual conviction: and as for hope—what kind of anchor is it to the soul, if it is ever shifting, if it grasps nothing?
If any man is in Christ, he is a new creature, that is, he is becoming a new creature, with new life, and powers, and energies, and tastes, and aims, and hopes. He will grow in grace if he has rightly received it, and in the knowledge and love of Christ. He will manifestly (at least to himself manifestly) be putting off the old man with his affections and lusts, and putting on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness. He will endure trials more and more patiently, as seeing more clearly Him who is invisible. He will resist temptations more easily, and do good more consistently and gladly, and be more pained and more penitent after every sin. He will have a growing love of searching God’s word, and speaking to Him in prayer and praise, and receiving Him in Holy Communion. He will gradually be raised above the world, and will soar higher in imagination and affection and hope towards heaven. Each day will have witnessed some advance—or some more than recovery if there has been a relapse. And when the night cometh, the end of the day of attaining salvation, he will want but little to complete his resemblance to Christ, his pattern, and to perfect his salvation.
If, then, brethren, you would obtain an answer to the momentous question, Whether you shall be saved, whether there is a good hope that you are in the way of salvation, I would bid you not so much look back to your Baptism and Confirmation, and count the number of your attendances on Holy Communion, of the sermons you have heard, the prayers and praises you have offered—though these are all great things—but rather, I would say, ascertain whether you have present salvation, for the future depends on the present; and to ascertain this, examine well whether you are putting off the old man and putting on the new, as I have just described. As another test—and a very great help in godliness, to which there is no equal in feelings and exercises—inquire into your hope of future salvation (by which I do not mean only your expectation, but also your eager desire), and into your joy for present salvation.
If religion is a reality, it is a great reality. Its immediate blessings are so precious, and its prospects so transcendently glorious, that the man who is not filled with joy and desire on their account, has no part or lot in them, or is strangely culpably ignorant of his privileges and his hopes. No wonder that he easily yields to sin, that he finds spiritual employments wearisome, that he makes no progress in salvation. If God touches him and he feels not, if heaven has come down to him and he knows it not, if glory is revealed to him, and he does not burn for it, if Christ has put him in the ark and he is not comforted by the immediate deliverance and counting on the perfect salvation—then, surely, he has received the grace of God to little sanctifying, and so to little saving purpose!
O let him beseech God earnestly and perseveringly to give him spiritual sight and feeling, to fill him with joy and peace in believing, to make him rejoice, not only for what he has, but for what he expects of salvation; working, like St. Paul, in view of the crown laid up, confident that, whether absent or present, he is accepted by God, knowing that to depart is to be with Christ.
But, lastly, let him guard and pray against mistaking present for perfect salvation, the road and discipline and growth for heaven, for heaven itself. The possession which he has, precious as it is, is not a perfect one; and, moreover, he may lose it. Remember Paul’s care, lest he should be a castaway, his caution to take heed lest we fall, his fearful sayings about forfeited grace. O brethren, seek as the best immediate blessing and the best stimulus to godliness, an assurance of hope in perfect salvation. But be sure that it is founded upon the reception and right use and evident growth of grace, upon present salvation; and, withal, be not high-minded, but fear. You know your own frailties, the influences of the world, the subtlety and tremendous power of Satan’s temptations. Any of these is sufficient to make you wander out of the right way, or stand still, or turn back, or to cause you to faint in your spiritual course, and even to threaten the destruction of your spiritual life. You are sure of God, of His favour, of His upholding, of His preserving you unto the day of perfect redemption; but you are not sure of your observance of the conditions on which only you may count on Him. And if you disregard these conditions, then are you plainly taught, by precept and example, that a neglected God will not abide with you, and a resisted Spirit will not strive with you, and that grace received in vain will be taken away. Remember this, let it keep you from presumption, make you watchful against temptation, always clothed in the armour of God, and wielding the sword of the Spirit, and abounding in the work of the Lord; praying, too, always, that the present may be an earnest of the future, that the Spirit will sustain, and sanctify, and perfect you, and that God, Who has begun a good work in you, will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.
SERMON XV.
CHRIST TOUCHED.
St. Mark, v., 30.
And Jesus, immediately knowing in Himself that virtue had gone out of Him, turned Him about in the press, and said, Who touched my clothes?
A crowd always waited on our Lord when He taught or walked openly. In this case, there was an unusually great crowd following and thronging Him, because it had become known that He was on His way to work the miracle of raising up a child from the point of death. It is not hard to guess what were the elements of this crowd. First, there were the idle, curious multitude ever to be found where novelty or excitement is promised. Then there were those who knew not why they were come together, who were there because others were, who had no mind or interest in the matter. (There are always many of these in every crowd.) Then there were the scribes and lawyers, always talking about, listening to, or disputing religious truths—never coming, or caring to come, to the knowledge and practice of the truth. Then there were the seekers after loaves and fishes, who hoped to get something by coming. Then there were the entrappers and enemies of our Lord, seeking for witness against Him, hoping to see some work done, to hear some word said which might form the ground of accusation against Him. And, lastly, there were some—a few only—whom faith impelled to seek from Him the healing of their diseases, the relief of their burthens; and whom love drew after Him, to see Him, to serve Him, to dwell upon the gracious words that proceeded out of His mouth. Of the last class was a woman who had been afflicted with a grievous malady for twelve years, who had tried all earthly means of relief, and had grown worse under them, who was despised and shut out from the company of mankind by reason of her visitation, who had become destitute in seeking cure. All things were against her. Her misfortunes were what many would describe as more than could be borne. Her case was hopeless. Nothing seemed left to her but to succumb to helpless misery, and wait in groans and tears for death—when, lo! a sudden gleam of brightest hope burst upon her, there was a Physician Who could cure all diseases, and His remedy was to be had without price! It does not appear whether the fame of Jesus had reached her in some remote place, whence she had dragged her poor afflicted body, sighing and groaning, wandering many days, searching in many places; or whether, being “accidentally,” as men say, near where the crowd passed, she had now heard, for the first time, of the new Prophet; and, gathering from the passers-by that He was going to restore a dying damsel, concluded that the possessor of such power, so graciously exercised, could and would heal her too. Be that as it may, she had full faith in His ability: “If I may but touch his clothes I shall be whole.” And, having such faith, she resolved to act upon it, making her way through the crowd, and doing that, through which her faith suggested the power would be transmitted. How she came to propose to herself, or who proposed to her, such a course, how much of ignorance and superstition there was in it, is beside our present consideration. Her faith, her perseverance, her humility, are rather the things to be noted. Her faith, which was so strongly convinced of the existence in Jesus, and the certainty of being able to obtain from Him the grace of healing. Her perseverance, poor, feeble, tottering woman! which was not overawed by the greatness of the crowd, and did not give up when she was dragged hither and thither, hard pressed here, shut out there—perhaps even thrown down and trampled on more than once. Her humility, which—eager as she was for cure, bent, too, as she was upon having it—made her fear the eyes of the crowd, though she cared nothing for their thrusts and hard usage, which dared not face her Healer; which caused her to shrink back from the first touch, and seek to hide herself, and steal away with the blessing.
Pausing here for a moment, brethren, to consider that this woman, in her malady, is a type of all who are affected with the disease of sin; that in the fruitless issue of her recourse to earthly physicians, she allegorises the vanity, the mockery, of all human expedients to restore or ameliorate moral distempers; showing that such “remedies” do but cause to suffer more, and make worse—pausing, I say, to consider this, and to reflect that herein we have a representation of ourselves as sinners, of our helplessness but for Christ, of our greater suffering and sure deterioration, through our very efforts to become better without Christ; reflecting on this, realising it, and feeling it, are we able to go on and see in her discovering of the right Healer, in her efforts to be healed by Him, in her faith, and perseverance, and humility, what we have discovered, what we believe, and what we do, and what we feel? O what a pitiable sufferer is that, who hears with indifference or with lukewarm inactive belief, that there is a Physician that can make well; who knows that He is ready, that restoration is to be had, and yet does not seek it; who even pleads infirmity as a reason for not striving to be cured; who is deterred by the sight of a crowd that must be got through; who is discouraged by the first obstacle, and gets up and goes back after the first fall! And how blinded are the senses, and how dead the feelings of the sinner, who does not feel the degradation of his state, but makes open display of himself before the crowd, and with a bold front and unshrinking touch, comes to the All-pure and All-holy to be healed! Learn, fellow sinners, from this poor woman, what your sin is, how defiling, how miserable, how sure to grow worse under human treatment. Learn, too, by Whom alone it can be healed, and with what efforts, and what feelings, you must seek the healing. For, consider how the All-seeing eye and the All sympathising heart beheld and loved that woman, for her deeds and feelings. Before she touched Him, the virtue, the power of healing, was made ready to flow; and, as soon as she had touched, she was called forth, and commended, and owned, and further blessed: “Daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace, and be whole of thy plague.”