Sermon CXX.
The Poverty Of Christ.
For after all these things do the heathen seek.
—St. Matthew. vi. 32.
In this day's Gospel our Blessed Lord would teach us that the difference between men is the difference between the objects for which they live. And he lays down the fundamental law of his kingdom, that if the chief object of one's life is the enjoyment of the things every where about us—eating and drinking and money and lands—he has therein a mark of belonging to the kingdom of this world. To belong to our Lord's kingdom we must live for none of these things as the end of our endeavors. We may, indeed, have and use the things of this world, but for higher purposes than the world itself can offer; as far as any enjoyment in them is concerned, it is too trifling a matter to engage our serious pursuit.
Yet, brethren, is not the whole Christian world absorbed in seeking after what should be the heathen's peculiar treasure? Is not this the most anxious inquiry, How shall I get rich? Is not the possession of riches deemed the most enviable happiness? Is it not the best praise of an individual that he is prosperous, and of a nation that it is wealthy? What a serious lesson it is, therefore, that our Lord expresses his contempt for what is deemed the height of human wisdom among us—a contempt no less profound because so gently expressed! If—he as much as says—if you and I are to make choice of beauty, you may choose King Solomon's wardrobe with all its jewels, and I will take the new-blown lily; if you talk to me of foresight and skill in the business of life, you may admire the successful speculator, but the little sparrow is my model.
And our Lord's life was fully in accord with his doctrine. For it was of set purpose that he saw fit to lack those things that nearly all men covet most; that he was the child of a poor maiden, and the apprentice of a country carpenter; that he was a wanderer barefoot and needy about Judea, yet all the time the only-begotten Son of the Lord of all majesty; that he was seemingly a tried and convicted malefactor, and died naked and all but alone upon the gibbet, yet all the time the immortal King of ages.
The truth is that this unhappy overvaluing of the more lowly things of life is a fault deeply rooted in our fallen nature. That the eager pursuit of wealth is not compatible with God's service; that it is the peculiar province of the heathen we indeed know. And we know that the human soul is too noble a being to expend its dearest action to purchase any perishable thing whatever. Yet very many persons who deem themselves good enough Christians are quite proud of their success in the heathen's way of life. And many other Christians fall into downright despair because God has deprived them of the things that "the heathen seek." Far be it from us indeed to underestimate the burden of poverty, or to say that it is an easy thing to suffer it. God knows that it is a terribly hard thing to be poor; to see one's family suffer actual hunger; to wander about the streets with no roof to cover one; to lie helplessly sick and be too poor to get proper food or medicine. But on the other hand it is wrong to act under such circumstances as if all were lost, or as if God hated us; that is the very time to arouse one's faith in God's love and one's reliance on his promises; to seek his consolation in the holy sacraments; to raise one's eyes hourly to his countenance by fervent prayer that he may relieve the burden, or at any rate grant patience to bear it.
Oh! how few there are who gladly and heartily choose the Kingdom of God and his justice in preference to the treasures of this world! How few there are who do so even grudgingly and doubtfully!
Yet the doctrine stands: to labor for a postponed reward is the Christian's life, and for a present reward the heathen's. To pass by a seen and present joy for the sake of an unseen joy is the Christian's wisdom. To trust the voice of an unseen benefactor—in a word, to walk in the darkness of a supernatural faith—is the fundamental virtue of our religion.