There seems, then, to be a
connection between the degree of active exertion here, and the degree of
reward hereafter; and also a connection between the degree of suffering
here, and the degree of glory that shall follow. "He which soweth
sparingly," says Paul, "shall reap also sparingly; and he which soweth
bountifully shall reap also bountifully." And the same apostle assures us,
that "our light affliction which is but for a moment, worketh out for us a
far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."
Of the truth of these
remarks, we have a very beautiful illustration in the mediatorial
character of the Son of God. His was a life of the most strenuous
exertion; it was his meat, and his drink to do the will of his Father.
His, too, was a life of the most unparalleled suffering. He was
emphatically "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." And as he
suffered more than any one of his followers, as his visage was marred,
more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men, so shall his
glory far exceed that of any of those whom He condescends to call his
brethren. It is the connection between his unwearied exertion and his
reward; the connection between his sufferings, and his glory, that we
especially advert to. Paul tells us that it became him "by whom are all
things, and for whom are all things, to make the Captain of our salvation
perfect through suffering." And it is after giving an account of the
humiliation of our Lord, that the apostle adds, "Therefore, (on which
account) God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is
above every name." But it may be thought that though these remarks hold,
in their fullest extent, with regard to Him who was without sin, and who
could demand, as his due, that reward which was but a fair compensation
for his faultless accomplishment of the work which was given him to do;
yet that they are wholly misapplied with regard to those whose very best
services are polluted and mingled with sin. It is true that we can make no
demand, that we have no plea to urge at the hands of justice, that our
very salvation from wrath is a matter of purest mercy, of free and
unmerited favour. But yet it is true, that "God is not unrighteous to
forget our work and labour of love;" and we are assured that if we suffer
with Christ, we shall also reign with him.
We shall first, then,
consider it as a privilege to be permitted to labour in the cause
of Christ; and we shall advert to one or two of the ways in which we can
share in his sufferings, and consequently be made partakers of His glory.
First, then, Jesus Christ was a martyr. He sealed his testimony with his
blood. And hence the promise, "Be thou faithful unto death and I will give
thee a crown of life." And hence the willingness, nay, the eagerness of
the first disciples to gain a martyr’s crown. Yes, there was a time when
the followers of Him whom Pilate crucified, were proud to show their
attachment to their Master, at the expense of life itself. But those days
of fiery trial are gone. And too much cause have we to fear, that the
spirit of martyrdom is gone along with them. That spirit of fervent love
to God, and of devoted attachment to each other, which so distinguished
the early Christians, as to draw forth the applauses even of their
enemies, is gone with the persecution which was the cause of it; and there
hath come in its room a spirit of cold and heartless profession; a spirit
of animosity and dissension among those of whom once it was said, "Behold,
how these Christians love one another." The test of faithfulness unto
death you cannot now make. In our land at least, the voice of persecution
has long been silent. But though your faith cannot now be thus tried in
reality, did you never in imagination bring your Christianity to this
test? After having read of the unwavering constancy of a Hamilton, or of
the still more recent sufferings of a Wishart, whose memory yet lives so
palpably in all that is around us, did you never ask your own hearts the
question, "Would I have acted thus?" And in the glow of enthusiastic
feeling, have you not thought with the generous and warm-hearted, yet
self-confident apostle, that you were ready to follow your Master to
prison, and to death? Like Peter, you may indulge in the romantic thought
of your attachment, and your constancy; without, like him, having your
feelings tried by the test of stern reality.
But, though the crown of
martyrdom is now placed beyond our reach, and in this particular we can no
longer drink of the cup which Jesus drank, nor be baptized with the
baptism which he was baptized with, is there no other way in which we can
suffer with Christ, and consequently reign with him? Is there no other
feature of the Saviour’s character, whose resemblance we can yet trace
upon our own? There is such a feature, one of the most prominent in all
the mediatorial characters of the Son of God. Not only was he a martyr, he
was also a missionary. He came on a mission to our world.. He came to
preach the gospel to the poor. He was sent to heal the broken-hearted, to
preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind,—
to set at liberty them that were bruised,— to preach the acceptable year
of the Lord. It was for this that he left the bosom of the Father. It was
for this that he emptied himself, and took upon him the form of a slave.
It was for this that he exchanged a throne of glory for a manger, and the
praises of sinless angels for the revilings of sinful men. And it is in
the same cause that the missionary now goes forth, leaving father and
mother, and houses and lands.
It has often struck us that
those very objections which are now urged against the preaching of the
gospel to the heathen, might have been brought with equal plausibility
against the first preaching of the gospel to our world. When you have
heard the opposers of missions argue about the insufficiency of the means
for the end in view, and in support of this objection, proudly appeal to
the fact that little has yet been accomplished, did it never occur to you,
such, in all probability, would be the reasonings of those who opposed the
ministry of our Lord and his disciples?
Just picture to yourself a
few poor and illiterate men, with nothing that was imposing in their
outward appearance, sometimes without a place where to lay their head, and
sometimes eating of the ears of corn, to satisfy their hunger. And when
your imagination has filled up this outline of apparent meanness and
poverty; just think of the mighty revolution which they professed was to
be brought about by their instrumentality, and you may conceive the sneers
of philosophic pride with which these professions would he contemplated.
You may well conceive what would be the feelings of the literati of the
day; how they would remember the vain attempts of a Socrates and a Plato,
and all the master spirits of antiquity, to reform the manners even of
their own countrymen; and how they would laugh at the pretensions of an
illiterate tradesman, the son of a common mechanic, who professed that the
system which he taught should one day be acknowledged by the whole world.
So much for the apparent insufficiency of the means for the end.
But mark, this was not all.
Think again of the little success which seemed to accompany his preaching,
think of the few followers whom he had gathered round him, after spending
thirty years in the scene of his labours. And think of the inconstancy of
these few, when the day of persecution arrived. The followers of Socrates
stood by him, when he drank the fatal cup; but the disciples of Jesus
forsook him and fled. Think of his death as a common malefactor and then
can you wonder, if even the most devoted of his followers, thought all was
over; and if, in the bitterness of their sorrow, they confessed to the
unknown inquirer that their hopes had died with their Master, but that
once they "trusted that this had been he who should have redeemed Israel?"
But the opposers of
missions tell us, that here the means, though apparently inadequate, were
not so in reality; that the men were inspired by the Spirit of God. We
immediately answer them, by applying the very same argument to the
operations of the present day. The means, though seemingly inadequate, are
not so in reality. We mean not to say that missionaries are inspired; but
we do mean to say, that the Spirit of God accompanies their labours. He
who gave the command, "Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to
every creature:" gave also the promise, "And lo, I am with you alway, even
unto the end of the world."
But this has been a
digression from our original design, though we hope not a useless one. We
go on to remark, that as there are special promises for the martyr, so are
there for the faithful missionary. And as there was a time when the
disciples of Christ were eager to wear the crown of martyrdom, so was
there a time when the pretended soldiers of the cross were eager to gain
the reward which is promised to him who shall leave all for the sake of
Christ. There was a time when the inhabitants of Europe rushed with one
accord, to fight in what they deemed, but falsely, the cause of the
Saviour. So great was the enthusiasm, that in that army there mingled men
of every rank, and of every condition; the high and the low. There might
be seen the crown of royalty and the coronet of nobility and the crested
plume of knighthood towering above the humbler array of the surrounding
multitude, and there too might be seen the peaceful banner of the cross
floating above those who were soon to imbrue their hands in the blood of
their fellow-men. That was an age of zeal but it was also an age of
ignorance The present is an age of knowledge: would it were also an age of
more fervent zeal. The true soldiers of the cross are now going forth to
fight but they wrestle not against flesh and blood. And they have buckled
on their armour, but it is not a material armour; and they have taken
their arms, but they are not carnal weapons.
But they fight against
principalities and powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this
world against spiritual wickedness in high places. And they have taken
unto them the whole armour of God, even the shield of faith, and the
breastplate of righteousness and the preparation of the gospel of peace
And they are armed with the sword of the Spirit, even the word of God,
which is mighty through God, to the pulling down of strong holds. The
faithful missionary is the true soldier of the cross. It is he that hath
left father and mother, and houses, and lands, for Christ’s sake and the
gospel; and to him is the promise of a hundred-fold in this life, and in
the world to come, life everlasting.
But as the labours and the
sufferings of the missionary resemble those of Christ, so shall his reward
resemble that of our glorified head. For what is the reward of Christ? Is
it not the souls which he has ransomed? In the prophecy of Isaiah, God is
represented as thus making a covenant with his Son —
‘If his soul shall make a
propitiatory sacrifice,
He shall see a seed which shall prolong their days.
And the gracious purpose of Jehovah shall prosper in his hands.
Of the travail of his soul, he shall see (the fruit) and be satisfied.
By the knowledge of him shall my servant justify many;
For the punishment of their iniquities he shall bear.
Therefore will I distribute to him the many for his portion.
And the mighty people shall he share for his spoil."
Lowth.
This was the joy that was
set before him, for which he endured the cross, despising the shame.
And what is the reward of
the minister and the missionary? Is it not the souls whom they have been
the instruments of saving? "For what," says Paul to the Thessalonians,
"for what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in
the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming? For ye are our glory
and joy. Thus is it that if we attain unto the kingdom of heaven, the
souls which we may have been instrumental in saving here, will in that day
be as a crown of glory around us; and yet along with ourselves, form part
of that brighter crown which shall beam around the head of our glorified
Redeemer: as in our solar system, the satellites revolve round their
respective planets, and yet are with them borne in their mightier orbits
around that brighter luminary which is the centre of the whole.
There is such a thing as
being saved, yet so as by fire; such a thing as being least in the kingdom
of heaven: and even this is a thought of highest ecstacy; but there is a
thought more ecstatic still. It is the thought of an abundant entrance,
and an exceeding great reward, and a crown of glory that fadeth not away,
and a splendour like the shining of the stars in the firmament. Yes, to
emit the faintest ray from that dazzling crown, which shall ever encircle
the head of the Saviour, is a thought far too glorious for human
conception; but there is a thought more glorious still, — to blaze forth,
the central gem of one of those brilliant clusters, — to add to the glory
of the Redeemer’s diadem, and yet have around us a coronet of our own.
Hitherto we have considered
it as a privilege to labour, and to suffer, for the sake of Christ; we
come now to consider it as a duty. Hitherto our attention has been
directed to the glorious reward of those who shall avail themselves of
their privileges; we come now to consider the condemnation of those who
shall neglect them.
We doubt not but there are
some who would give a willing assent to all that we have advanced; but
who, notwithstanding, would not be actuated by these remarks, to a single
deed of Christian philanthropy. They think that it may be all very true,
that a crown of glory is reserved for the martyr and the missionary; and
that a distinguished place in the kingdom of heaven will be given to those
who have been unwearied in their zeal, and patient in their suffering, for
Christ’s sake and the gospel’s; but for their part, they have no such
ambitious views, they are well content if they can but get to heaven at
all; they like to steal quietly along with heaven in view, and not to make
too much ado about religion. They think it right, indeed, to be religious;
but they like not those who are religious over much. They do well in
saying that they disapprove of ambition; we know not that even with regard
to heavenly things, this desire of greatness is ever in any shape
countenanced in the New Testament. But it is not the reward itself which
these individuals dislike, it is the suffering, and the self-denial which
lead to it. And too often is such reasoning employed as an excuse for
treating with the most listless neglect, all that has a reference to the
extension of the kingdom of our Lord.
But there is one
circumstance which has always struck us most forcibly in reading those
allegorical representations of the final retribution which are contained
in the Bible — a circumstance which tells most fearfully against that
class of individuals to which we have alluded. And it is, that while a
greater or a less reward follows the improvement of our talents, the
simple neglect of these, subjects us to a greater condemnation than if we
had never enjoyed them. While those servants who had gained by the talents
bestowed upon them, received each a suitable reward, that servant who had
gained nothing, not only received no reward, but was ordered to be cast
into outer darkness, where shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. And in
that sublime description of our Lord’s, where the final judgment is
brought so vividly before us, the condemned are not accused of positive
crime, but of conduct altogether of a negative nature. And when the Judge
pronounces the fearful sentence, "Depart from me, ye cursed, into
everlasting fire;" he does not add as the cause of their condemnation,"
Because ye imprisoned me." It is "because I was an hungered, and ye gave
me no meat. I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink. I was a stranger, and
ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick and in prison, and
ye visited me not." Not only then should we consider as a matter of high
and distinguished privilege, that we have been endowed with talents, but
also as a thing of deep and fearful responsibility.
There are various talents
which have been entrusted to our keeping. Some of us may have received
more, and others less; but we shall have all to render an account
according to that we have, and not according to that which we have not.
There is one talent which we have all of us received, and that, too, a
talent of no common value; even that Book which maketh wise unto
salvation. This wisdom is within the reach of every one of us; and this
wisdom it is our duty to send to those who have it not. Or it may be,
that, in that day there may be some who have been less highly favoured
than ourselves; but who have more diligently availed themselves of the
privileges they enjoyed; who shall bring against us the accusation; "We
were hungering and thirsting after righteousness; and ye supplied not our
wants."
It is in vain for any one
of us to say, that we can do nothing in the cause of evangelizing the
heathen. We may be able to give but little to support the external
mechanism; but there is something more required in this mighty work than
the mere outward apparatus, even that quickening principle, which of old
breathed life into the dry bones of the prophet’s vision; and which even
now, is exerted in bidding those live "who are dead in trespasses and
sin." The Holy Ghost is the gift of prayer. It may be, that we can give
but little to the support of the outward means; but we can all pray for
that life-giving principle, without which, these means will be employed in
vain. It may be, that we cannot ourselves go forth to reap; but we can, at
least, "pray the Lord of the harvest to send forth labourers into his
harvest." But there are some of us who can do more; to whom there has been
entrusted the talent of this world’s wealth. This is an element, my
friends, which is absolutely necessary to the carrying on of the cause of
Christ on earth. It is a talent which we have received from God; and yet
how little of it is employed in his service. Can it be, that so many
millions are annually embarked in the uncertain speculations of this
world’s merchandise; and that a few thousands are all that are employed in
the service of Him who is the rightful owner of all that we possess? Can
it be, that so many are willing to lend on the treacherous security of
this world’s contracts; and that there are found so few who are willing to
lend on the security of His word who cannot lie, and who hath promised a
hundred-fold in this life, and in the world to come life everlasting?
But there are some of us
who have received talents of a higher order still; talents which might
enable us to engage personally in the work of missions; even those mental
endowments, which, with the teaching of the Holy Spirit, might qualify us
for preaching to the heathen, the unsearchable riches of Christ.
It is altogether vain to
assert, as some do, that great mental powers cannot be profitably employed
in preaching to the heathen. It is true, there may be some exceptions; but
in the general, we know no office in the church of God where the very
highest mental attainments can be more beneficially employed, than in the
office, all despised as it is, of the Christian missionary.
Mental endowments are
gifts, which more than any other, perhaps, have been alienated from the
service of Him that gave them. And it will not be the greatest
condemnation of by far the greater part of those who have received them, —
that they have wrapt them in a napkin or buried them in the ground. Not
only have they been withdrawn from the service of God; but far too
frequently have they been employed in the service of his enemies.
This is the kind of
assistance which is most wanted at present in the missionary cause. It is
not work that is wanting; it is not wealth to carry on the work; it is
labourers.
It was not the hope of rendering any
considerable pecuniary assistance to missions which induced some of our
number to attempt the formation of this society; it was the desire of
cultivating a missionary spirit among ourselves. We remembered, that from
the Halls of Cambridge, there had gone forth the zealous and devoted
Martyn; and that a sister University had sent forth a Brown and a
Buchanan; and we were not without the hope, that even from this remote and
hitherto lukewarm corner of our land, there might be found some to imitate
their honourable, though despised, example.
This may servo to explain to you why
we have already laid out so great a portion of our funds in procuring the
lives and the writings of some of the most distinguished of our
missionaries. And we are sure, that there are few who can peruse the diary
of a Brainerd, or a Martyn, without being animated with something of that
devoted spirit which animated these illustrious servants of our God.
But we fear, lest it may be
thought by some, that these remarks savour too much of selfishness; that
we have held up as an incitement to exertion, the hope of glory, and the
fear of condemnation.
Well do we know, that if
the love of Christ constrain us not to live not unto ourselves, but to him
that died for us, then all other inducements will be utterly powerless.
But in this age of antinomian delusion, when religion has, among one class
of our community, been transformed into a thing of definitions and cold
speculation; and, when, among another, it has dwindled into a thing of
mere feeling and poetic sentiment; we deem it right to bring forward those
passages of the Bible which bear most directly upon our conduct.
For how often in these days
of cold and heartless profession, do we meet with those who have the most
perfect knowledge of all that is orthodox, and all that is Calvinistic;
who can argue most ingeniously about all the dark and doubtful points of
theology; whose heads have been stuffed with the dogmas and the
disputations of a speculative divinity; but whose hearts have never been
reached by the melting declarations of the gospel.
These are willing to talk
and debate about religion; and they are willing, perhaps, to speculate
about the possibility or impossibility of their salvation to whom the glad
tidings of the gospel never came. But if, on the ground of the uncertainty
of the question, you urge home upon them, the duty of sending instruction
to the heathen; and if you but mention Bible or Missionary Societies,
immediately are they ready to silence your every argument by their usual
cant charges of fanaticism and enthusiasm.
How often, on the other
hand, do we meet with those whose religion is not indeed so cold, but
altogether as lifeless; with those who are loud in the praise of
benevolence, and who are ever saying to the poor, Be ye warmed, and be ye
fed; whose tenderest emotions are excited by the recital of some tale of
imaginary woe; but who would think the lofty dreams of their
sentimentalism degraded by being brought in contact with what they reckon
the grossness of real life. And how lamentable is it to think, that, in
this class of individuals, we can sometimes meet with those who can talk,
and who can write, the most pathetically about the misery and the
degradation of the heathen; and who can yet demonstrate by their own
deeds, that the religion of the Bible has even less influence upon
themselves than the mock morality of the Koran on the followers of
Mahomet, or the fables of the Shaster on the deluded votary of Brahma.
This admirable essay, with
another, which will afterwards come in, illustrates more powerfully than
any description of mine, the character and talents of the writer. His
knowledge of Scriptures, and the ease with which he reasons upon them, are
extraordinary in a boy of his years. Human teaching could not have
produced such excellence as is here displayed. The subject is a difficult,
and, in some respects, an original one; yet he discusses it like a person
familiar with it, and who had devoted to it, the leisure and the
application of years.
It affords the most
decisive proof that his zeal was not the sudden excitement of passion, or
that temporary and often violent heat, which is put forth by a young
convert: which is sometimes in the reverse ratio of the light which is
possessed; and, therefore, as ephemeral in its duration as it is
unproductive of solid benefit to the individual himself and to others. It
is good to be zealously affected in a good thing. But it is always
desirable that zeal should be according to knowledge; and that the flame
should be clear as well as ardent. Such was the case of my young friend.
His warmth arose from those doctrines which he so well understood, and the
influence of which must ever be powerful on those who really believe them.
The love of Christ to himself, brought along with it, the most devoted
gratitude in return. And perceiving that the manifestations of Christ’s
love, in devoting himself for the salvation of the world, are recorded,
not only to be the foundation of our faith towards God, but to be the
example and the excitement of the same principle in us, he felt called
upon to give his talents and his life to the same cause. Is this
fanaticism? Then was it fanaticism which led the Son of God to give his
life a ransom for many. It was fanaticism which sent the apostles round
the world on a mission of benevolence. It was fanaticism which influenced
the confessors and martyrs of primitive times to sacrifice all things for
their Master’s sake, and "for the elect’s sake, that they might obtain the
salvation which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory."
It is far easier on
Christian principles to defend the utmost degree of self-devotion in the
work of disseminating the gospel, than it is to defend the sincerity of
men who call themselves Christians, and yet remain cold, selfish, and
worldly. For the highest ardour — for what may be even called the
extravagance of zeal, it is easy to find not only an apology, but a
justification in the principles and hopes of the gospel. But it is passing
strange, that men should conceive themselves to be Christians, while they
"live to themselves," and are equally regardless of what is due to
consistency, to the honour of Christ, and to the claims of a perishing
world. It is not necessary that every Christian should become a missionary
to the heathen, but it is necessary that every Christian should consider
himself the Lord’s, and that he is as much bound to propagate the faith of
Christ, as were the primitive believers. No obligation lay on them which
does not devolve on us; and it is only in as far as we adopt their maxims
and imbibe their spirit, that we can expect at last to share their reward.
There is reason to fear
that the New Testament doctrine of future rewards and punishments is very
imperfectly understood by many Christians. They use the terms, heaven,
eternal life, the crown of glory, and other corresponding expressions, in
a vague and indefinite manner. Their hopes and expectations seem to be
exceedingly low, and to produce a proportionately feeble influence on
their minds and conduct. Christianity is not sufficiently their life; and,
hence, they find it necessary to repair too much to other sources of
enjoyment.
With them, the escape from
future punishment, and the possession of heaven, considered as a state of
entire freedom from suffering, is the ne plus ultra of hope. The
idea of a scale of reward scarcely enters into their mind, much less that
this scale will be regulated by the degree in which the character is in
this world conformed to that of Christ. Hence the satisfaction with
themselves which is felt even when much that is evil exists. Hence the
indifference to eminent degrees of labour, self-denial, and holiness,
which so generally prevails. And, hence the little attention which is paid
to some of the most interesting views of future glory which the Scriptures
present.
The doctrine of grace is
thus unconsciously perverted by many. They seem to think that doctrine not
only at variance with human merit, but with degrees of glory
proportioned to the degrees of Christian excellence. They regard the
arrangements of eternity as so arbitrary that they have little or no
connection with the transactions of time. They imagine that the thief on
the cross will not only be saved, but may shine with as bright a lustre as
the apostle of the Gentiles. Is not this forgetting that the forgiveness
of the kingdom of heaven is a very different thing from the rewards of
that kingdom? The former having a reference to the evil which is common to
all, necessarily places all in the same state; the latter having respect
to what is good, or to positive conformity to the will of God, must be
proportioned to the degree in which it exists.
In this constitution there
is not only a recognition of the principle of grace, but a very high
display of it. To the merit of the atonement, and to the influences of the
Divine Spirit, we are indebted for all our positive goodness, and for the
acceptance of all our services. To his own gift, therefore, we are
previously indebted for all our hopes of distinction in his heavenly
kingdom, and to encourage the highest possible cultivation of the benefits
which he bestows, and of the opportunities of usefuluess which he
presents, he graciously engages to reward every attempt to glorify his
name. The idea of merit is for ever excluded by the infinite disproportion
which obtains between the service and the reward. We are so treated as to
be left through eternity with a perpetually increasing and accumulating
debt, to the infinite grace and love of God.
It is impossible to
entertain this idea of future glory, without experiencing its elevating
and stimulating effects. It is not necessary to restrict it to missionary
labours; nor was this the object of the writer, in this admirable essay.
It applies to all the branches of Christianity; and to all the engagements
of Christian enterprise. In whatever way an individual may most fully live
to the Lord, most entirely exercise the self-denial which the gospel
inculcates, and most clearly evince the hallowed nature of his principles,
he may receive the promised boon. Urquhart believed that a missionary life
was the course in which he might most satisfactorily and honourably
discharge his obligations to the Saviour, and deserve his approbation.
Believing this, he devoted himself to it, and only parted with his
determination thus to glorify his Redeemer, with life itself. With him
these views were not a beautiful speculation, but living and efficient
principles. They influenced his studies, his dispositions, his pursuits.
They raised him above the low ambition, and the petty warfare of the
earth. They fixed his hopes on the enjoyments of a purer region; and
stimulated his exertions by the prospect of a crown of incorruptible
glory.