Coram Deo

We bless Thee that Thou knowest our hearts, our circumstances, and our needs, as well as our desires, for our desires are often false and our needs are always real. We pray that Thou wouldst regard them rather than our wishes, and that Thou wouldst minister to us as Thou surely wilt, if we will only let Thee, of the things that are requisite and necessary both for body and for soul. We cast ourselves upon Thee. If any of us are weighed down by any sorrow, or are feeling the desolations that sometimes come into every life, or have been called upon to part from the desire of our eyes, and have aching and empty hearts, we pray that Thou wouldst draw near to such, and comfort and help them to take the comfort that God gives. We bless Thee that we do not need to doubt Thy loving care of us and our dear ones, and we pray that we may stand firm in that confidence, not only when the sun is in the sky, and all the winds are still, but when clouds darken the heavens, and tempests desolate the earth.

O Lord our Father, Who hast stored for us in Jesus Christ all treasures of wisdom and knowledge and righteousness and power, we bless Thee that the Storehouse is open, that the box has been broken, and the ointment poured forth. We thank Thee for our access to the wealth of God in Christ our Saviour, and we beseech Thee that each of us may fill up our emptiness, and enrich our poverty, and strengthen our weakness by laying hold of, and drawing into the very substance of our lives, the riches of God in Him. We pray for grace that we may be more completely and gladly and constantly receiving of ‘His fulness, grace for grace,’ and that all in us which is low and weak and dark may be lifted, confirmed and enlightened by the inflow into our poor lives of the triumphant risen life of our Saviour. Help us day by day to find that He is made unto us wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and full redemption. And in all our daily conflicts may we have the presence of our Captain, and in all our daily journeyings may we have the guidance of our Leader.

Vast numbers of men are pleased with the seemingly new idea that “dogma” is of no great importance … The consequences of this widespread dislike to “dogma” are very serious in the present day. Whether we like to allow it or not, it is an epidemic which is just now doing great harm, and specially among young people. It creates, fosters, and keeps up an immense amount of instability in religion. It produces what I must venture to call, if I may coin the phrase, a “jelly-fish” Christianity in the land: that is, a Christianity without bone, or muscle, or power. A jelly-fish, as every one knows who has been much by the sea-side, is a pretty and graceful object when it floats in the sea, contracting and expanding like a little, delicate, transparent umbrella. Yet the same jelly-fish, when cast on the shore, is a mere helpless lump, without capacity for movement, self-defence, or self-preservation. Alas! it is a vivid type of much of the religion of this day, of which the leading principle is,—“No dogma, no distinct tenets, no positive doctrine.”—We have hundreds of “jelly-fish” clergymen, who seem not to have a single bone in their body of divinity. They have no definite opinions; they belong to no school or party: they are so afraid of “extreme views” that they have no views at all.—We have thousands of “jelly-fish” sermons preached every year, sermons without an edge, or a point, or a corner, smooth as billiard balls, awakening no sinner, and edifying no saint.—We have legions of “jelly-fish” young men annually turned out from our Universities, armed with a few scraps of second-hand philosophy, who think it a mark of cleverness and intellect to have no decided opinions about anything in religion, and to be utterly unable to make up their minds as to what is Christian truth … And last, and worst of all, we have myriads of jelly-fish worshippers,—respectable church-going people, who have no distinct and definite views about any point in theology. They cannot discern things that differ, any more than colour-blind people can distinguish colours. They think everybody is right and nobody wrong, everything is true and nothing is false, all sermons are good and none are bad, every clergyman is sound and no clergyman unsound. They are “tossed to and fro, like children, by every wind of doctrine;” often carried away by any new excitement and sensational movement; ever ready for new things, because they have no firm grasp on the old; and utterly unable to “render a reason of the hope that is in them.” All this, and much more, of which I cannot now speak particularly, is the result of the unhappy dread of “dogma” which has been so strongly developed, and has laid such hold on many Churchmen, in these latter days.

Salvation is undoubtedly all of grace. It is offered freely in the Gospel to the chief of sinners, without money and without price … But all who accept this great salvation, must prove the reality of their faith by carrying the cross after Christ. They must not think to enter heaven without trouble, pain, suffering, and conflict on earth. They must be content to take up the cross of doctrine, and the cross of practice,—the cross of holding a faith which the world despises, and the cross of living a life which the world ridicules as too strict and righteous overmuch. They must be willing to crucify the flesh, to mortify the deeds of the body, to fight daily with the devil, to come out from the world, and to lose their lives, if needful, for Christ’s sake and the Gospel’s.—These are hard sayings, but they admit of no evasion. The words of our Lord are plain and unmistakeable. If we will not carry the cross, we shall never wear the crown.

The Christian is a part of Christ, a member of His body. His every thought and word and deed proceeds from Christ, as the centre of volition. Thus he loves in the Lord, he hopes in the Lord, he boasts in the Lord, he labours in the Lord … He has one guiding principle in acting and in forbearing to act, μόνον ἐν Κυρίῳ (1 Cor. 7:39).

Let us turn our eyes to our great Exemplar, the Lord Jesus Christ … Here, you see, is our pattern. But what resemblance do we bear to him? The leaving of all the glory of heaven, the taking of our nature with all its sinless infirmities, the dying under the weight of our sins, even of the sins of the whole world, were not too great acts of self-denial for him to perform; and that, too, even for his enemies. But we, what have we done? What have we suffered, for the glory of Christ, and the salvation of men? Say, whether we all have not reason to blush and be ashamed at our extreme want of conformity to him in these respects?

Fallen man is wholly departed from God; and is become altogether selfish; seeking at all times his own things …. One would have supposed, that man, however fallen, should at least have given a precedence to his God: but he chooses rather to be a god unto himself, and to consult, in the first place, what will be most conducive to his own ease, or interest, or honour. If the gratification of self, in any respect, be found contrary to the declared will of God, the authority of God is set at nought; the honour of God overlooked, as unimportant; and the pleasure, whatever it may be, is pursued, without restriction or remorse. From their fellow-man, indeed, they feel some restraint; but from God, none at all. As far as he is concerned, they say, “Our lips are our own: Who is lord over us?” …. In truth, man in his fallen state does not admit any competition between God and him. He chooses rather to “cast God behind his back,” and to live “without him in the world.” “The things of Jesus Christ” do not at all engage his thoughts. He never asks himself, ‘What would the Lord Jesus Christ wish me to do? What will please him? What will honour him? What will advance his glory in the world?’ These are considerations which never enter into his mind. Nor is this the case with any one particular description of persons only: it is the same with all persons, of every age, of every country, of every condition. From infancy to old age there is the same regard for self, to the utter exclusion of every thing that relates to Christ. There may be indeed, and often is, in ungodly men, a great concern about their own sect or party in the Church; which they, perhaps, would call a regard for Christ himself. But this is nothing more than a carnal principle, precisely similar to that which actuates men in relation to their own society or country. There is in it no real regard for the Lord Jesus Christ himself, but only for the particular party to which they belong: and, whatever construction they may put upon their actions, God, who tries the heart, will comprehend them under the censure of my text, as “seeking their own things, and not the things of Jesus Christ.” “They are empty vines, because they bring forth fruit only to themselves.”

The hope of benefiting immortal souls is most delightful to a benevolent mind; and a successful issue to our labours is replete with joy. The disciple who was honoured with his Master’s love beyond all others, even he knew “no greater joy than to see his children walk in truth.” This accounts for the extreme earnestness with which St. Paul laboured for the salvation of men, and for their sake. He knew, that, even in the eternal world, it would augment his happiness to see that he had been instrumental in saving others; and that “he should rejoice in the day of Christ, when he found that he had not laboured in vain, or run in vain.” Indeed, so entirely was he swallowed up in the prosperity of his converts, that he was ready even to die for them, if need were; yea, and to welcome the most cruel death as a blessing, rather than to deprecate it as an evil, if only it might be subservient to the welfare of their souls.