Tracts on the Sabbath

by Unknown

But after all, we very much doubt the propriety of classing all those precepts which we cannot discover by the mere light of nature, under the sweeping name of positive institutions, as if they were on the same level with the passover, circumcision, the ordinance of the red heifer, &c. Indeed, we utterly protest against it, if the intention is to underrate their importance, or to depreciate them as "non-essential," according to the cant term of the day. For what in such case would become of the whole system of Christianity itself? We mean the system of appointing a Mediator, and the redemption of the world through him. It is a positive institution, that is, purely a matter of revelation, and wholly undiscoverable by the light of nature. But shall we therefore call it a non-essential? Shall we regard it as something of minor importance in comparison with the religion of nature? Does it not devolve upon us with obligations just as strong and overwhelming as the moral law? Most certainly it does; not only because it is enjoined by the same authority, but also because it is the only means of promoting a conformity to the moral law. The same may be said of all positive institutions: they are designed to promote a conformity first to that dispensation to which they are peculiar, and second, to the moral law.

Whoever attempts a close investigation of the nature of positive institutions, will find that the line of separation between them and moral duties, is not always so easy to be drawn as might at first be imagined. We say, indeed, that the former are not discoverable by the light of nature. The reason of that, however, may be, not because they do not in reality originate in the nature of things, but merely because, our powers of discovery are so feeble. Were these powers expanded, and the range of our intellectual vision widened, we might possibly see that those very institutions we call positive, grow naturally and necessarily out of the relation between God and us. Not only might we see the reasons of positive institutions in general, (which indeed is already sufficiently obvious,) but with such enlarged capacities, we might see the reason why such particular ones are pitched upon rather than others. The real difference between moral and positive duties may, after all, be nothing more than this, that the former we can readily discover for ourselves, narrow as the range of our vision is—while the latter, we are so short-sighted, we cannot discover, and are therefore wholly dependent on revelation for them. Hence we suppose it is assuming more than can be proved, when it is argued that positive appointments are altogether arbitrary, and have no real foundation in the nature and fitness of things.[7]

Now when we admit that the Sabbath is a positive institution, we mean that it is not discoverable by the light of nature, but is purely a matter of revelation; and this is all we mean. It still possesses the main attributes of a moral precept. For as we have already shown, any duty which has its origin in the natural relation of creature to Creator, must be of a moral nature, whether we can discover it for ourselves, or whether by reason of our short-sightedness, we are altogether dependent on revelation for it. That such is the origin of the Sabbath law, is plain from the most casual inspection of it. It grew out of God's creating the world in six days, and resting on the seventh, and is a constant memorial of it. Besides, it provides for the performance of the worship of God, which is confessedly a moral duty; while the satisfaction it yields to the conscience of every man, is a sufficient indication of its parity with other moral precepts.[8]

But to dismiss all further argument concerning the distinction between moral and positive duties, let it be admitted that the Sabbath is a positive institution in the very strictest sense; let it be admitted to be nothing more than an arbitrary appointment, having no foundation in the natural and primary relation of man to his Creator—it must nevertheless remain in force so long as that dispensation lasts to which it is peculiar. Hence it must still be in force; for the dispensation to which it belongs, is the dispensation of nature itself. While the dispensation of nature lasts, the day which God the Creator originally "blessed and sanctified," will continue to be sacred. It is utterly impossible that it should be otherwise; and therefore all speculations about its changeable nature, resulting from its being a positive appointment, are vain. Changeable and positive as were the carnal ordinances of the old economy, they were not changeable while that economy lasted, but were sacred throughout the whole of it. Changeable and positive as are the ordinances of Baptism and the Lord's Supper, they are not changeable while the dispensation to which they belong continues, but are sacredly binding until the dispensation ends. So of the Sabbath; yes, even of the very day originally appointed.

Customary as it is with writers to draw the broad line of distinction between what they call the moral and positive parts of the institution, and whatever advantage it may have in theory, so far as practice is concerned, nothing is gained by it. Indeed, with those who pretend to be guided by divine revelation, rather than by the unaided deductions of their own minds, it is always an unnecessary distinction. He whose heart is subdued to the will of God, will not be studious to inquire which of his commands are of a moral, and which of a positive nature. His inquiry will be simply this: "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" If God command, he will obey, let the nature of the command be what it will. Were man left to deduce the knowledge of his duty from the nature and fitness of things, without the aid of any light from above, God would not blame him if he should wholly neglect to practice those duties, which are commonly called positive. All that would be required of him in such case, would be the practice of those duties which are most obviously of the moral kind. But with the statute book of Almighty God in his hand, he stands on very different ground. He is thus brought under obligation—yea, under moral obligation, to esteem all the divine precepts concerning all things, to be right. Psalm cxix. 128.

Section IV.
the importance and necessity of the sabbatic institution.

There are very few bearing the Christian name—perhaps none except such as are a scandal to the profession—who do not feel the importance of a weekly day of rest, which shall be dedicated to the service of the Most High God. Whatever may be their scruples in regard to the application of the term Sabbath, to such a day, and though they may suppose that it is not to be observed according to the rigorous exactness of the ancient law, they nevertheless feel that it would be sapping the foundation of religion, morality, and good order, to abolish all distinction of days, leaving none for religious and moral improvement. Nay, even those who, in theory, maintain that under the gospel all days are alike, still feel—though it is difficult for them to account for it—that their theory and their experience will not harmonize together. Their very nature calls for a day of repose, while the wants of their souls are so clamorous as to drive them to some moral and religious improvement of it. If they heed not these monitions, they do but feel some aching void, some uneasy distress, wholly unlike those peaceful feelings which result from a due improvement of the season. Whatever be a man's theory, he feels better when he sanctifies one day in seven to the Lord: his body feels better—his soul feels better. This feeling is not one which grows out of the airy visions of a distempered brain; but it is one which is capable of being resolved into solid arguments.

Without a Sabbath, it would be utterly impossible to promote the interests of religion. Were there no set time for suspending the business of the world, the church of God would soon lose its visibility, and hell obtain complete triumph over the fallen soul of man. Ministers might preach, embodying in their discourses the most powerful reasoning, and garnishing the whole with the sweetest flowers of rhetoric; but, to whom would they preach? A few, of exalted piety, who rejoice in the sacred testimonies more than in all riches, and who feel that "a day in the courts of the Lord is better than a thousand," Psalm lxxxiv. 10, would perhaps be there. But the mass—the throng—the great multitude—would be elsewhere. They would be immersed in the service of the world, their souls perishing for lack of knowledge. It would be impossible, utterly impossible to bring the word of God to bear upon their minds. How then could they be saved? For faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God, Rom. x. 17. And if men are not brought to believe the gospel, what becomes of the church? Its visibility is gone—the gates of hell have prevailed against it. But God has sworn that the church shall stand; nay, that all nations shall flow unto it, Isa. ii. 2. Wherefore, He who said "the gates of hell shall not prevail against it," Matt. xvi. 18, is also Lord of the Sabbath for the benefit of the church. As Lord of the Sabbath, he will forever perpetuate an institution so necessary to the interests of his kingdom.

This object—the promotion of Zion's welfare—could not be accomplished, unless the day were strictly a Sabbath; that is, a day of rest from all sorts of work. It is not sufficient that the day be merely an honorable day—a notable season, or a day for holding religious meetings. If men are not obliged to intermit their worldly business, and that too by the express authority of God, they will give themselves but little trouble to repair to a place of worship. Or even should they go, their minds would be so filled with the world, that the instructions from the desk would be as seed cast upon the way side. Even with regard to the Christian himself, how could the life of God be maintained in his soul, by an attention to religious duties just barely for the short space allotted to the public assembly? It would be impossible. His soul would be eaten up by the world. Public opportunities must be followed up by secret prayer, and close meditation in the sacred word. For this, one entire day in seven is little enough. The experience of all devoted Christians—let their theory about the Sabbath be what it may—has taught them, that nothing less will suffice to keep their souls in prosperity and health.

It appears, then, that we need just such a Sabbath as the fourth commandment enjoins; one, the law of which is, "in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy man-servant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates." If the great object of evangelizing men, and bringing them to the knowledge and worship of Jehovah cannot be accomplished with any thing less than one entire day in seven, sanctified for the purpose, then unquestionably we need a Sabbath. It is therefore fair to presume, that the Sabbath of the Decalogue was given with special reference to man's necessities, and was not a mere shadow to be annulled for the weakness and unprofitableness thereof.