Few, perhaps, will fail to perceive some wide difference between that state of mind which is implied by our popular Christianity, and that which is implied by the Apostolic Epistles. The complete unworldliness, the quiet, elevated self-denial, the earnest humility, the obedience on the one hand and authority on the other, which are the evident characteristics of practical Christianity as it appears in the inspired records, are strikingly different from all which we see now in our popular religion; and may at times well suggest the fear that we may have lost much of that faith which the first Christians possessed. And in no particular is this difference more remarkably seen, than in the language held respecting the Ministry of the Church; which from its undeniable importance deserves no light consideration. Of course it may be said, that much of the difference of tone respecting the Ministry may be ascribed to the “cessation of apostolic authority strictly so called.” But however this be, which we pass for the present, it is apparent to all, that there is a difference: and so, men attempt to “account for the fact,” rather than deny it. To account, for example, for the “magnified importance” plainly attributed in Holy Scripture to the living voice of an Apostolic Ministry, above and beyond, and often without reference to other means of Christian instruction. Not only the plea just mentioned, but other similar ones are urged, as the “change of circumstances,” the “alteration in the times,” and the like, to account for the fact. How dangerous all such arguments and evasions are, to those who seek a religion exactly, or as nearly as possible, such as the first Christians had, needs scarcely to be urged on any thoughtful mind. For after all these suppositions and reasonings, it will still remain very possible that The Ministry first Divinely set up in the Church, was not intended essentially to change with the changing circumstances of this world; very possible that this might have been given as one permanent if not paramount means of grace for mankind, notwithstanding the subsequent introduction of other means, however efficacious and invaluable. And then, the actually existing ministry, its historical continuity, its unconcealed pretensions, are facts not to be lightly set aside when viewed in connection with this possibility only; even if it were nothing more. How much of Apostolical grace is lost from the ministry, it may be impossible to say; but so also it would be equally impossible to say how much is retained. Hence, it must ever remain the safest course for a Christian man to adhere to an Apostolically descended Ministry. Let us not pass too hastily from these thoughts; let us follow them out, into minuter detail; in order to enter into the state of mind apparently implied by language such as that in the passage, for instance, which constitutes our text.
Does it not here seem, by St. Paul’s way of putting his questions, leaving them, as it were, to answer themselves in every Christian mind, that they could in his esteem admit of only one answer? That they must conduct people to the inevitable conclusion of the necessity of a Living Ministry? Modern Christianity would easily find other replies; and does so practically. But is there no danger in such a course? No danger in thus assuming the sufficiency of what may be termed literary methods of Christian instruction? nevertheless it is certain, that very often it is assumed. “How shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard?” “By reading the Bible and judging for themselves,” would be the reply of modern Christianity. “How shall they hear without a preacher?” asks the Apostle. And modern believers might truly reply, “We do not see the difficulty—Have we not our Bibles in our hands?” “How shall they preach except they be SENT?” is the inquiry of St. Paul. And, “surely every man who understands his Bible may teach it to another,” might be the ready modern reply. To the Apostle’s mind, on the contrary, such questions seemed to carry with them their own unavoidable answers, establishing beyond controversy the necessity of an authoritative publishing of the truth by living teachers, and those duly sent (αποσταλωσι): nor does the Spirit of inspiration (to whom every future change was known) here give any hint of the future change of this system of teaching.
But further: what St. Paul meant by being “sent,” or “apostolically commissioned,” as well as the high importance which he attached to it, may be gathered from the extreme anxiety with which, at the opening of his Epistles to the Churches, he repeats, and dwells on, the fact of his own apostolical character; which is so conspicuous, that the want of such a preface has sometimes been urged as an argument against his authorship of the Epistle to the Hebrews. [8] “Paul an Apostle of Jesus Christ;” “Paul CALLED to be an Apostle, separated unto the Gospel of God;” “Paul an Apostle not of men, neither by man,” but “by the will of God.” Such are the beginnings of his Epistles. Nor was such an anxiety at all unnatural in him; because his apostolical character was not so regularly derived as that of others, and had been greatly disputed in some churches, and so needed constant vindication: of which the Apostle seemed to be well aware. But, on modern principles, this self-vindicating anxiety is quite unintelligible. It never could have been manifested by St. Paul, if he had only thought, “that every man has a right to be a Christian teacher, whether he has a mission or not, provided he is persuaded of his own ability, and can persuade others of it too.” To one unacquainted with this notion, there certainly would seem to be some powerful difficulty (which others would not see) in this question, “How shall they preach except they be SENT?” And therefore in the next chapter to this which contains these questionings, St. Paul again glances at this topic, and says, “Inasmuch as I am the Apostle (the SENT one) of the Gentiles, I magnify mine OFFICE.” Now, as we have said, it is very easy to reply to all this, that St. Paul’s circumstances were different, and that that will account for the difference of his feelings and language. For even granting this, is it either consistent with a cautious reason, or a Christian humility, to assume in this way, that we are right in differing from St. Paul, provided we can “account for the difference?” Or, supposing that our altered times do account for the difference (as in some sense they do), does it follow that they justify it? Perhaps we may “account for” most of man’s transgressions against God’s law, but does that justify them? But let us keep to the case before us. How can we be so sure, that if in the apostolic days the common people had possessed Bibles, and were able to read them, and, in a word, were outwardly circumstanced in all respects as we are, then St. Paul’s principles, and St. Paul’s exhortations, would have been such as ours now are? Have we any right to say, without proof, that St. Paul assigned such an importance to the teaching of a living ministry, solely because Bibles were not plentiful? Might there not have been other reasons? Consider: is it not very conceivable that there might have been that in Christianity which could only be perfectly conveyed by an institution such as the living ministry?—and which, therefore, without that ministry, would not be attained, even though men possessed every other means? Now, without saying that it is so, and not insisting on the probability of it (arising from the analogy [10] of God’s past dealings with mankind, and from the very nature of our social condition), it is enough to affirm, that it is very possible, very conceivable, that an apostolical ministry might have been made by God the perpetual channel of a grace to man, which might be conveyed in no other way. And the possibility of this ought for ever to restrain us from the rash conclusion, that Christian blessings may be sufficiently attained by private reading of the Bible.—If any are inclined to such a conclusion, by the consideration that possibly the apostolic ministry had a miraculous blessing which no ministry had after the Apostles’ age; so that language well suited to the first generation of the Christian ministers, may not be suitable now; it might be answer enough to point out, that such a supposition remains to be substantiated, and that it must be hazardous to take up with a theory which incurs the risk of realizing on principle only a defective Christianity. But more than this may be briefly added, viz.: That as miraculous power was no peculiarly apostolical prerogative (for all ranks of Christians had possessed it), so neither can the want of it argue a deficiency in apostolic grace and ministration; That the Apostles associated with themselves Timotheus, Silvanus, Epaphroditus [11] and others, as possessing the same Ministry with themselves, though no miraculous gift; and, That if the same ministry be not to continue for ever in the church, then it would follow that “Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world,” has not been literally fulfilled; That the words of Scripture which relate to the Church’s Ministry, must not be understood by us as they certainly were by the first Christians, and, consequently, the plain sense of the Bible is not our guide, as it was theirs so far as they possessed it. And so, finally, our Christianity may be proved at last to come short of the standard of Scripture, and be fatally different in some important points from that which was originally given to the world.
Nothing which has now been said is intended to call in question the reality of those blessings which God may and sometimes does bestow apart from His appointed means, or by some only of those means apart from the rest. But enough has surely been said to admonish men against that easy and off-hand way of getting rid of those texts which imply high apostolic power, by saying, that such passages only suit the primitive days and the Apostles’ own ministry. On the other hand, we would not pretend to decide how large an amount of favour may be vouchsafed to those who have not the blessings of a true priesthood. Cornelius, we know, was a just man, and largely acceptable unto God, before he saw St. Peter, or received Christian baptism. Some, again, of the earliest disciples had embraced the truth in some degree, before they had heard “whether there was any Holy Ghost,” or had been baptized in the name of Jesus. And when the Philippian Church was deprived of the ministry of St. Paul, they were still admonished to rely on God’s in-dwelling Spirit in the Church, and “much more in the Apostle’s absence to work out their own salvation.” God may dispense with His own appointed means, and may supply the lack of them; but man cannot. But if it were right to compare, or contrast, one of God’s given means of grace with another, it might perhaps appear that none of them are so essential as the Church’s Ministry, whereby all the rest seem to have been instrumentally preserved. Much which we are too apt think exclusively essential to the existence of Christian truth and purity, had no being in the early Church. It is likely that all essential means of edification would be given to the first generation of believers; and, in fact, was not the most exalted Christian grace possessed in the Church previous to the Christian Scriptures? Whoever will reflect on these points, will at least be prepared seriously to consider, what in primitive days was understood by the ministerial mission to teach,—what the meaning of St. Paul was in such terms as he applied to the ministers of Christ? (as that they were the “sent” servants, “stewards of mysteries,” “ALLOWED of God and PUT IN TRUST with the Gospel,”) and whether that may not be the true Christian meaning still?—whether, notwithstanding the altered times, there may not be as much meaning now as there ever was in the question, “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”
Here it may be rejoined, that there are many who acknowledge the necessity of a Ministry in the Church, and who allow that it ought, in all main particulars, to resemble that of the primitive Christians; nay, who notoriously assign a very high value to such a ministry, as a peculiar means of grace having a peculiar promise of blessing annexed to it, and yet do not acquiesce in the Catholic doctrine concerning it. And would it not be an unfairness to charge such with setting-aside the apostolic ministry? or too little esteeming it? Doubtless, it might be. But yet this rather anomalous circumstance, that men who are generally supposed to be somewhat lax, at least, respecting the subject of an authoritative ministry, should also be often thought to give undue prominence to “the Sermon” of a minister, even beyond other means of grace; this, I say, only renders it the more important that we should understand clearly what men mean by a “ministry” in the Church,—what they consider its real powers and chief functions,—and what its special grace and blessing? For it can hardly be questioned, that many think that they believe in a Christian ministry, when they are only believing in a particular minister;—think that they are believing in a MINISTRY, when they are only believing in eloquence. Many make free use of words, when they would shrink from the ideas which they naturally convey; and ascribe a degree of blessing to a ministry, which in strictness of speech they would never think of seriously attributing to any such cause. And it cannot serve the interests of truth to smooth over really different opinions, by generalized expressions, just “for the sake of peace.” The truth is, there is the greatest possible vagueness of belief, or rather opinion, respecting the Christian Ministry, in our times and country especially. There is, perhaps very generally, an indistinct impression, that something is required to make a man “a minister of the Gospel;” but what it is, very few would be ready to say: and this may be well looked on as a sort of instinctive testimony of the human mind to the felt truth, “that it is not lawful for any man,” on the mere suggestion of his own thoughts, to stand forth as a teacher of religion. Common sense seems thus to make the inquiry, “How shall they preach except they be SENT?”
It is felt universally, that a teacher of religion should have some credentials. The most illiterate, indeed, will often take the word of any man of outwardly respectable appearance, who can manage, with the mixture of a few Scripture phrases, to talk in an incomprehensible way, and look upon him directly as a “minister.” The extent of this implicit faith among some classes of sectaries is almost incredible to those who have not personally witnessed it. But yet even these will clothe their ministers with spiritual powers; and believe their ministrations to convey a grace, and to possess a primitive and apostolical value, such as those very “ministers,” if pressed, would formally disown. Hence many persons of these sects are violently shocked, when we deny the validity of their sacraments as the sure channels of God’s grace; little thinking that their own ministers do not suppose them to be so. And so also the multitude of sects which flourished in this country during the time of the Great Rebellion, owed much of their success to their unscrupulous assertions of a “divine mission;” persuading the people that theirs was the “discipline of Christ;” and alleging a “divine right” for every part of it. And yet, notwithstanding this feeling planted in our very nature, that a spiritual ministry must have a spiritual origin, it is astonishing to see the facility with which almost any professed teacher is received. Just as mere ignorance inclines the most illiterate, so the better classes are induced, by indolence or habit, to receive almost any man as a religious instructor. “How their minister became a minister?” is a question which seems hardly to have occurred to the majority of people. If a man has only ability enough to obtain a congregation and a chapel, and especially if he assumes the outward appearance and style of a clergyman, and is thought a “respectable man,” nothing more is generally inquired. But can this satisfy any one who thinks seriously? The Bible describes the Christian Minister in a very solemn way, as the “Savour of life or death” to souls—as being an earthly vessel possessed of a “Heavenly TREASURE,” the weight whereof he was not sufficient to bear! and so, to the first Minister of the Church it was said, “What thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven;”—Whatever this mysterious language implies, are we to take a man to be all this on his own bare word? or on the ground of his personal talents or sincerity?—Or can the people’s support of any man endow him with these awful prerogatives of a Divine Ministry? Can a congregation, however numerous, give what they themselves possess not? Holy Scripture classes together Christ’s own Mission from His Father; and the Apostles’ Mission from Christ. Even the Son of God “glorified not Himself” to be made an High Priest. He began not His ministry till He was divinely pointed out at His baptism, and from that time Jesus began to “preach and to teach.” Even He confessed, “As the Father hath SENT ME,” and, as “the Father hath given Me commandment,” even “so I do.” And His blessed Apostle said, “God was in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself, . . . and hath COMMITTED unto us the ministry of reconciliation;” and when the same Apostle was “about to be offered,” and the “time of his departure was at hand,” he said, “This charge I COMMIT unto thee, son Timothy;” and further, “the same COMMIT thou to faithful men,” who shall TEACH others also. Indeed every Scripture precedent is against the notion so wholly inconsistent with the idea of a “commission,” that a man may teach in the name of God, without God’s authority so to do. Surely the words of Scripture mean something. “Pastors,” “stewards of mysteries,” “overseers,” “embassadors,”—those “in Christ’s stead,” those “speaking in the person of Christ,” those whom the Churches were commanded to “obey” as “watchers for souls,” and “accountable.”—Those who were received as “angels of God,” even “as Jesus Christ;” “workers together with God,” “angels of the Churches,” “stars in Christ’s right hand!” Are these the descriptions of an earthly dignity wherewith a man of ability may clothe himself? Do they mean less than they say?—or rather do they not powerfully point the question, “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”
But notwithstanding the vagueness of the popular creed, it is not to be denied, that those who think attentively about religion and read their Bible with care, and yet embrace sectarian views, have some way of explaining all these, and similar expressions, so as to bring them, in some degree, into conformity with their particular views. Doubtless some sort of explanation would be necessary to give a measure of consistency to their systems. And into the examination of their manifold systems it would be impossible now to enter. Nor is it necessary; it is enough to point out the fundamental error, of having a system, and then “explaining” texts down to that system. And this perhaps may be sufficiently done by glancing chiefly at two classes of the most received theories, with a view of showing that they alike proceed on a common principle, and that (in consequence) instead of taking the words of Scripture as they plainly stand, and accepting them as the Church does, in their full natural meaning, they are obliged to “explain.” Such, indeed, we have already said to be our running argument. “Would the sectarians, or would Catholics, have been more likely to employ naturally such and such words?” And more than this we can scarcely attempt on this occasion. Indeed a formal confutation of many such systems as we are now alluding to, would be almost impossible. There is something so indeterminate about them, that there is no tangible point of attack. The bare denial of an Apostolically descended Ministry is, frequently, all that can be obtained from our opponents. And where we are not presented with this sort of vacuity of belief, we still meet with nothing more than some thin theory of a possible ministration, whereby a straining ingenuity attempts to harmonize its own opinions with the facts and statements of Scripture; as if we were set to inquire—what may be, or might be a system of religious teaching? and not rather, what was from the beginning?
One theory of a Christian ministry maintained, with more or less of distinctness, by very many, is, that none are rightly “sent,” or commissioned to teach Christ’s religion, unless they have what is termed an “inward call.” Now, if they mean by this, that every minister of Christ ought to be inwardly impressed with the importance of his calling, no one will question it: but they must mean more than this, or their meaning amounts to nothing. Their idea seems to be, that no man has a right to become a “minister,” who has not some overpowering personal conviction of his spiritual destination to the ministerial office, and that this is a sufficient evidence of a true “call” to the office; and in conformity with this notion they explain every text. Now if any one imagines that he has such evidence of a call within him, it is useless to reason with him. He is clearly beyond that. If he can so persuade himself, he may also persuade himself that all Scripture is on his side; or any thing else. Few, indeed, will be disposed to envy the venturous self-confidence of one who could thus stand forth (with eternity before him) and on his own sole authority profess, “I am an embassador for Christ!”—“I am a ‘savour of eternal life and death!’” Not to dwell, too, on the opening thus given to fanaticism of every kind, it is certain also that a man’s personal conviction can be no evidence to others; and yet others are interested in the matter. How far his apparent religious success may be so, is another question, which had better be separately examined, and which we shall hereafter consider. But, it is plain, as we have said, and again insist, that a man’s personal conviction alone is no sufficient proof for others that he is “sent” to preach Christianity. The Apostolic Epistles, every where, imply as St. Paul does in his question to the Roman Church, that the being “sent” was a matter which other men could judge of. It is certain, too, that the Apostles had something more at least than an “inward call.” They were, according to the Scriptures, outwardly called, from the very first, by Christ Himself. And St. Paul, the only one who was not so, was outwardly called, afterwards, by an express miracle. So that the Bible, and Apostolic example, are alike against the notion of the sufficiency of an inward call. And here it may be collaterally remarked, that, least of all men, can the members of our Church admit this, at the best inadequate, doctrine; for the 23rd Article is emphatically against it. It reads thus:—“It is not lawful for any man to take upon him the office of public preaching, or ministering the Sacraments in the congregation, before he be lawfully called and SENT to execute the same. And those we ought to judge lawfully called and sent, which be chosen and called to this work by men who have public authority given unto them in the congregation, to call and send ministers into the Lord’s vineyard.” Above all, therefore, the man who holds this doctrine of our Church will see a force which the advocates of the inward call cannot understand in St. Paul’s question, “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”
But another notion concerning the Ministry, practically entertained to a very wide extent is, That the Government of a country has the prerogative of making Ministers of Religion. That this revolting opinion could possibly prevail in a Christian land, is, perhaps, one of the most fearful proofs which could be brought of Pagan ignorance, among nominal believers. And yet, under various modifications, it prevails to an extent scarcely credible. What but this is implied in the expression which we often hear even educated people make use of, “that the State makes Bishops?” What but this is implied in our quiet acquiescence in the notion, that an act of the State may abolish some of our bishopricks? What but this is the ordinary practical interpretation of the phrase, “the Church as by law established?” which sometimes is even cast at us as an acknowledgment that our Church’s origin is an Act of Parliament. Is it not true, that many have no other idea of a clergyman, than that he may be better educated, perhaps, than some other teachers, and so is “patronized by the State?” And, is this the idea of a minister of Christ which the Bible would give? Is it a doctrine of the first Christians, that men, simply because they are governors, and happen to have civil power, may clothe their fellow men with the awful prerogatives of a Spiritual Mission? Is it a doctrine of the Church of England—when our Article expressly denies to kings all spiritual authority—and when Queen Elizabeth allowed the oath of supremacy to be taken, with an accompanying declaration to that effect?—It is easy, of course, to construct a theoretical argument to prove, “That the governor of a State is bound to provide religious instruction for the people,”—but certainly such an argument will not prove that the civil governor can give to any man a spiritual AUTHORITY. It can only prove, that it is his duty to seek for a rightly authorized and commissioned instructor, and give him the additional worldly advantage of a legal sanction and defence. It may be, that governors should look for and find a religious teacher for the people—but they cannot make one. Governors must be instructed and saved by the same heavenly means as the people; and neither can rightfully intermeddle with the administration of Divine things. On the leprous forehead of King Uzziah we may read the presumption of those who will so invade the sacred office. (2 Chron. xxvi. 19.) But it would be impossible to draw out more minutely in this place [24] the arguments either for or against the Erastian theory; and we are chiefly concerned to show that it is wholly inconsistent with Scriptural and Primitive doctrine, which taught, that men should “give unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s; but unto God alone the things which are God’s.” The argument which we would, again and again urge, is, Whether the notion of the State commissioning the religious instructor is in harmony with the language of the New Testament? Does not the Christian mind at once revolt from the thought, That a ruler of this world can commission any as embassadors of the world’s Saviour? That the government of any country can by their state-licence empower a man to “bless in the name of the Lord?”—to be a “steward” of Holy mysteries?—to absolve penitents,—and “deliver to Satan” the ungodly? Such was the Minister of Christ according to Primitive belief and Scriptural statement; acting “in the person of Christ,” and marking with holy indignation any who refused to “follow” in his steps. He “fed the flock of God,” took “the oversight of them,” and “stirred up the gift that was within him” by the laying on of hands. These are the very words of Scripture, and they, surely, never would have been thought of, never could have been naturally used by the inspired writers, if they had entertained the thought, that the State could make a man a Christian Minister.
And such a thought certainly was not entertained by the Christians of the first 300 years, any more than by the Apostles; who were not even countenanced by governors, but in things spiritual “resisted unto blood,” and were charged with “turning the world upside down,” rather than submit to men in aught that pertained unto God. Even as late as the fourth century, the great president of the Nicene Council thus declared to the Emperor the Christian doctrine: [26a] “God has put dominion into your hands. To us He hath entrusted the government of the Church; and as a traitor to you is a rebel to the God who ordained you, so be afraid on your part, lest usurping ecclesiastical power you become guilty of a great sin.” And again: “Meddle not with Church matters; far from advising us about them, rather seek instruction from us.” “Remember that you are a man.” “Fear the day of Judgment.” And nothing can be plainer than the language addressed by St. Hilary to the Arian bishops. “O ye bishops, I pray you, what suffrages did the Apostles make use of? Did they receive their dignity from the palace?” [26b] And, after all, this is the unanswerable argument. St. Paul was not received as an Apostle, because he was allowed to preach to “Cæsar’s household.” St. Luke was not admitted as a Minister simply because he was an educated man. We do not find the enquiry in Scripture or antiquity, How shall men preach except they be “respectable?” or, how shall they preach except they be favoured by the State? or, how shall they preach except they have literary distinctions? Necessary and useful as all these qualifications may be, the distinctive question concerning the Ministry is, “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”