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The Gospel of the Pentateuch: A Set of Parish Sermons cover

The Gospel of the Pentateuch: A Set of Parish Sermons

Chapter 6: SERMON IV. NOAH’S FLOOD
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About This Book

A collection of parish sermons that presents the Pentateuch as a continuous revelation of a living God, arguing for the historic truth of its narratives and defending traditional readings against modern critical skepticism. The preacher blends pastoral concern with learned discussion of Jewish customs, localities, and textual criticism, embraces anthropomorphic language in Scripture, and uses scholarship to strengthen rather than erode faith. Practical guidance is offered for teaching congregations, while difficult or unresolved questions are acknowledged and temporarily set aside pending fuller answers.



SERMON III.  THE VOICE OF THE LORD GOD



(Preached also at the Chapel Royal, St. James, Sexagesima Sunday.)

GENESIS iii. 8.  And they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day.

These words would startle us, if we heard them for the first time.  I do not know but that they may startle us now, often as we have heard them, if we think seriously over them.  That God should appear to mortal man, and speak with mortal man.  It is most wonderful.  It is utterly unlike anything that we have ever seen, or that any person on earth has seen, for many hundred years.  It is a miracle, in every sense of the word.

When one compares man as he was then, weak and ignorant, and yet seemingly so favoured by God, so near to God, with man as he is now, strong and cunning, spreading over the earth and replenishing it; subduing it with railroads and steamships, with agriculture and science, and all strange and crafty inventions, and all the while never visited by any Divine or heavenly appearance, but seemingly left utterly to himself by God, to go his own way and do his own will upon the earth, one asks with wonder, Can we be Adam’s children?  Can the God who appeared to Adam, be our God likewise, or has God’s plan and rule for teaching man changed utterly?

No.  He is one God; the same God yesterday, to-day, and for ever.  His will and purpose, his care and rule over man, have not changed.

That is a matter of faith.  Of the faith which the holy Church commands us to have.  But it need not be a blind or unreasonable faith.  That our God is the God of Adam; that the same Lord God who taught him teaches us likewise, need not be a mere matter of faith: it may be a matter of reason likewise; a thing which seems reasonable to us, and recommends itself to our mind and conscience as true.

Consider, my friends, a babe when it comes into the world.  The first thing of which it is aware is its mother’s bosom.  The first thing which it does, as its eyes and ears are gradually opened to this world, is to cling to its parents.  It holds fast by their hand, it will not leave their side.  It is afraid to sleep alone, to go alone.  To them it looks up for food and help.  Of them it asks questions, and tries to learn from them, to copy them, to do what it sees them doing, even in play; and the parents in return lavish care and tenderness on it, and will not let it out of their sight.  But after a while, as the child grows, the parents will not let it be so perpetually with them.  It must go to school.  It must see its parents only very seldom, perhaps it must be away from them weeks or months.  And why?  Not that the parents love it less: but that it must learn to take care of itself, to act for itself, to think for itself, or it will never grow up to be a rational human being.

And the parting of the child from the parents does not break the bond of love between them.  It learns to love them even better.  Neither does it break the bond of obedience.  The child is away from its parents’ eye.  But it learns to obey them behind their back; to do their will of its own will; to ask itself, What would my parents wish me to do, were they here? and so learns, if it will think of it, a more true, deep, honourable and spiritual obedience, than it ever would if its parents were perpetually standing over it, saying, Do this, and do that.

In after life, that child may settle far away from his father’s home.  He may go up into the temptations and bustle of some great city.  He may cross to far lands beyond the sea.  But need he love his parents less? need the bond between them be broken, though he may never set eyes on them again?  God forbid.  He may be settled far away, with children, business, interests of his own; and yet he may be doing all the while his father’s will.  The lessons of God which he learnt at his mother’s knee may be still a lamp to his feet and a light to his path.  Amid all the bustle and labour of business, his father’s face may still be before his eyes, his father’s voice still sound in his ears, bidding him be a worthy son to him still; bidding him not to leave that way wherein he should go, in which his parents trained him long, long since.  He may feel that his parents are near him in the spirit, though absent in the flesh.  Yes, though they may have passed altogether out of this world, they may be to him present and near at hand; and he may be kept from doing many a wrong thing and encouraged to do many a right one, by the ennobling thought, My father would have had it so, my mother would have had it so, had they been here on earth.  And though in this world he may never see them again, he may look forward steadily and longingly to the day when, this life’s battle over, he shall meet again in heaven those who gave him life on earth.

My friends, if this be the education which is natural and necessary from our earthly parents, made in God’s image, appointed by God’s eternal laws for each of us, why should it not be the education which God himself has appointed for mankind?  All which is truly human (not sinful or fallen) is an image and pattern of something Divine.  May not therefore the training which we find, by the very facts of nature, fit and necessary for our children, be the same as God’s training, by which he fashioneth the hearts of the children of men?  Therefore we can believe the Bible when it tells us that so it is.  That God began the education of man by appearing to him directly, keeping him, as it were, close to his hand, and teaching him by direct and open revelation.  That as time went on, God left men more and more to themselves outwardly: but only that he might raise their minds to higher notions of religion—that he might make them live by faith, and not merely by sight; and obey him of their own hearty free will, and not merely from fear or wonder.  And therefore, in these days, when miraculous appearances have, as far as we know, entirely ceased, yet God is not changed.  He is still as near as ever to men; still caring for them, still teaching them; and his very stopping of all miracles, so far from being a sign of God’s anger or neglect, is a part of his gracious plan for the training of his Church.

For consider—Man was first put upon this earth, with all things round him new and strange to him; seeing himself weak and unarmed before the wild beasts of the forest, not even sheltered from the cold, as they are; and yet feeling in himself a power of mind, a cunning, a courage, which made him the lord of all the beasts by virtue of his mind, though they were stronger than he in body.  All that we read of Adam and Eve in the Bible is, as we should expect, the history of children—children in mind, even when they were full-grown in stature.  Innocent as children, but, like children, greedy, fanciful, ready to disobey at the first temptation, for the very silliest of reasons; and disobeying accordingly.  Such creatures—with such wonderful powers lying hid in them, such a glorious future before them; and yet so weak, so wilful, so ignorant, so unable to take care of themselves, liable to be destroyed off the face of the earth by their own folly, or even by the wild beasts around—surely they needed some special and tender care from God to keep them from perishing at the very outset, till they had learned somewhat how to take care of themselves, what their business and duty were upon this earth.  They needed it before they fell; they needed it still more, and their children likewise, after they fell: and if they needed it, we may trust God that he afforded it to them.

But again.  Whence came this strange notion, which man alone has of all the living things which we see, of Religion?  What put into the mind of man that strange imagination of beings greater than himself, whom he could not always see, but who might appear to him?  What put into his mind the strange imagination that these unseen beings were more or less his masters?  That they had made laws for him which he must obey?  That he must honour and worship them, and do them service, in order that they might be favourable to him, and help, and bless, and teach him?  All nations except a very few savages (and we do not know but that their forefathers had it like the rest of mankind) have had some such notion as this; some idea of religion, and of a moral law of right and wrong.

Where did they get it?

Where, I ask again, did they get it?

My friends, after much thought I answer, there is no explanation of that question so simple, so rational, so probable, as the one which the text gives.

“And they heard the voice of the Lord God.”

Some, I know, say that man thought out for himself, in his own reason, the notion of God; that he by searching found out God.  But surely that is contrary to all experience.  Our experience is, that men left to themselves forget God; lose more and more all thought of God, and the unseen world; believe more and more in nothing but what they can see and taste and handle, and become as the beasts that perish.  How then did man, who now is continually forgetting God, contrive to remember God for himself at first?  How, unless God himself showed himself to man?  I know some will say, that mankind invented for themselves false gods at first, and afterwards cleared and purified their own notions, till they discovered the true God.  My friends, there is a homely old proverb which will well apply here.  If there had been no gold guineas, there would be no brass ones.  If men had not first had a notion of a true God, and then gradually lost it, they would not have invented false gods to supply his place.  And whence did they get, I ask again, the notion of gods at all?  The simplest answer is in the Bible: God taught them.  I can find no better.  I do not believe a better will ever be found.

And why not?

Why not?  I ask.  To say that God cannot appear to men is simply silly; for it is limiting God’s Almighty power.  He that made man and all heaven and earth, cannot he show himself to man, if he shall so please?  To say that God will not appear to man because man is so insignificant, and this earth such a paltry little speck in the heavens, is to limit God’s goodness; nay, it is to show that a man knows not what goodness means.  What grace, what virtue is there higher than condescension?  Then if God be, as he is, perfectly good, must he not be perfectly condescending—ready and willing to stoop to man, and all the more ready and the more willing, the more weak, ignorant, and sinful this man is?  In fact, the greater need man has of God, the more certain is it that God will help him in that need.

Yes, my friends, the Bible is the revelation of a God who condescends to men, and therefore descends to men.  And the more a man’s reason is spiritually enlightened to know the meaning of goodness and holiness and justice and love, the more simple, reasonable, and credible will it seem to him that God at first taught men in the days of their early ignorance, by the only method by which (as far as we can conceive) he could have taught them about himself; namely, by appearing in visible shape, or speaking with audible voice; and just as reasonable and credible, awful and unfathomable mystery though it is, will be the greater news, that that same Lord at last so condescended to man that he was conceived by the Holy Ghost; born of the Virgin Mary; suffered under Pontius Pilate; was crucified, dead, and buried; and rose the third day, and ascended into heaven.  Credible and reasonable, not indeed to the natural man who looks only at nature, which he can see and hear and handle; but credible and reasonable enough to the spiritual man, whose mind has been enlightened by the Spirit of God, to see that the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal; even justice and love, mercy and condescension, the divine order, and the kingdom of the Living God.

And now one word on a matter which is tormenting the minds of many just now.  It is often said that all that I have been saying is contrary to science.  That this science and understanding of the world around us, which has improved so marvellously in our days, proves that the apparitions and miracles spoken of in the Bible cannot be true; that God, or the angels of God, can never have walked with man in visible shape.

Now, my friends, I do not believe this.  I believe the very contrary.  I entreat you to set your minds at rest on this point; and to believe (what is certainly true) there is nothing in this new science to contradict the good old creed, that the Lord God of old appeared to his human children.  It would take too much time, of course, to give you my reasons for saying this: and I must therefore ask you to take on trust from me when I tell you solemnly and earnestly that there is nothing in modern science which can, if rightly understood, contradict the glorious words of St. Paul, that God at sundry times and in divers manners spake to the fathers by the prophets, and hath at last spoken unto us by a Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things: by whom also he made the worlds, who is the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, and upholdeth all things by the word of his power: even Jesus Christ, God blessed for ever.  Amen.

What then shall we think of these things?  Shall we say, ‘How much better off were our forefathers than we!  Ah, that we were not left to ourselves!  Ah, that we lived in the good old times when God and his angels walked with men!’

My friends, what says Solomon the Wise?—‘Inquire not why the former times were better than these, for thou dost not inquire wisely concerning this.’

It is very natural for us to think that we could become more easily good men, more certain of going to heaven, if we saw divine apparitions and heard divine voices.  A very natural thought.  But natural things are not always the best or wisest things.  Spiritual things are surely higher and deeper than natural things.  It is natural to wish to see Christ, or some heavenly being, with our natural eyes and senses.  But it is spiritual and therefore better for our souls, to be content to see him by faith, with the spiritual eyes of our heart and mind, to love him with all our heart and mind and soul, to worship him, to put our whole trust in him, to call upon him, to honour his holy name and his word, and to serve him truly all the days of our life.

Natural, indeed, to wish that we were back again in the old times.  But we must recollect that these old times were not good times, but bad times, and for that very reason the Lord took pity on them.  That they were times of darkness, and therefore it was that the people who sat in great darkness, and in the valley of the shadow of death, were allowed to see a great light.  And that after that, the fulness of time, the very time which the Lord chose that he might be incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and came down upon this earth in human form, was not a good time.  On the contrary, the fulness of time, 1863 years ago, was the very wickedest, most faithless, most unjust time that the world had ever seen—a time of which St. Paul said that there were none who did good, no, not one; that adders’ poison was under all lips, and all feet swift to shed blood, and that the way of peace none had known.

Better, far better, to live in times like these, in which there is (among Christian nations at least) no great darkness, even though there be no great light; times in which the knowledge of the true God and his Son Jesus Christ is spreading, slowly but surely, over all the earth; and with it, the fruit of the knowledge of the Lord, justice, mercy, charity, fellow-feeling, and a desire to teach and improve all mankind, such as the world never saw before.  These are the fruits of the Scriptures of the Lord, and the Sacraments of the Lord, and of the Holy Spirit of the Lord; and if that Holy Spirit be in our hearts, and we yield our hearts to his gracious motions and obey them, then we are really nearer to the Lord Jesus Christ than if we saw him, as Adam did, with our bodily eyes, and yet rebelled against him, as Adam did, in our hearts, and disobeyed him in our actions.  Of old the Lord treated men as babes, and showed himself to their bodily eyes, that so they might learn that he was, and that he was near them.  But us he treats as grown men, who know that he is, and that he is with us to the end of the world.  And if he treats us as men, my friends, let us behave ourselves like men, and not like silly children, who cannot be trusted by themselves for a moment lest they do wrong or come to harm.  Let us obey God, not with eye-service, just as long as we fancy that his eye is on us, but with the deeper, more spiritual, more honourable obedience of faith.  Let us obey him for obedience’ sake, and honour him for very honour’s sake, as the young emigrant in foreign lands obeys and honours the parents whom he will never see again on earth; and let us look forward, like him, to the day when him whom we cannot see on earth we may, perhaps, be permitted to see in heaven, as the reward—and for what higher reward can man wish?—of faith and obedience.



SERMON IV.  NOAH’S FLOOD



(Quinquagesima Sunday.)

GENESIS ix. 13.  I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth.

We all know the history of Noah’s flood.  What have we learnt from that history?  What were we intended to learn from it?  What thoughts should we have about it?

There are many thoughts which we may have.  We may think how the flood came to pass; what means God used to make it rain forty days; what is meant by breaking up the fountains of the great deep.  We may calculate how large the ark was; and whether the Bible really means that it held all kinds of living things in the world, or only those of Noah’s own country, or the animals which had been tamed and made useful to man.  We may read long arguments as to whether the flood spread over the whole world, or only over the country where Noah and the rest of the sons of Adam then lived.  We may puzzle ourselves concerning the rainbow of which the text speaks.  How it was to be a sign of a covenant from God.  Whether man had ever seen a rainbow before.  Whether there had ever been rain before in Noah’s country; or whether he did not live in that land of which the second chapter of Genesis says that the Lord had not caused it to rain upon the earth, but there went up a mist from the earth and watered the face of the ground, as it does still in that high land in the centre of Asia, in which old traditions put the garden of Eden, and from which, as far as we yet know, mankind came at the beginning.

We may puzzle our minds with these and a hundred more curious questions, as learned men have done in all ages.  But—shall we become really the wiser by so doing?  More learned we may become.  But being learned and being wise are two different things.  True wisdom is that which makes a man a better man.  And will such puzzling questions and calculations as these, settle them how we may, make us better men?  Will they make us more honest and just, more generous and loving, more able to keep our tempers and control our appetites?  I cannot see that.  Will it make us better men merely to know that there was once a flood of waters on the earth?  I cannot see that.  If we look at the hills of sand and gravel round us, a little common sense will show us that there have been many floods of waters on the earth, long, long before the one of which the Bible speaks: but shall we be better men for knowing that either?  I cannot see why we should.  Now the Bible was sent to make us better men.  How then will the history of the flood do that?

Easily enough, my friends, if we will listen to the Bible, and thinking less about the flood itself, think more about him who, so the Bible tells us, sent the flood.

The Bible, I have told you, is the revelation of the living Lord God, even Jesus Christ; who, in his turn, reveals to us the Father.  And what we have to think of is, how does this story of the flood reveal, unveil to us the living Lord of the world, and his living government thereof?  Let us look at the matter in that way, instead of puzzling ourselves with questions of words and endless genealogies which minister strife.  Let us look at the matter in that way, instead of (like too many men now, and too many men in all ages) being so busy in picking to pieces the shell of the Bible, that we forget that the Bible has any kernel, and so let it slip through our hands.  Let us look at the matter in that way, as a revelation of the living God, and then we shall find the history of the flood full of godly doctrine, and profitable for these times, and for all times whatsoever.

God sent a flood on the earth.

True; but the important matter is that God sent it.

God set the rainbow in the cloud, for a token.

True; but the important matter is that God set it there.

Important?  Yes.  What more important than to know that the flood did not come of itself, that the rainbow did not come of itself, and therefore that no flood comes of itself, no rainbow comes of itself; nothing comes of itself, but all comes straight and immediately from the one Living Lord God?

A man may say, But the flood must have been caused by clouds and rain; and there must have been some special natural cause for their falling at that place and that time?

What of that?

Or that the fountains of the great deep must have been broken up by natural earthquakes, such as break up the crust of the earth now.  What of that?

Or that the rainbow must have been caused by the sun’s rays shining through rain-drops at a certain angle, as all rainbows are now.  What of that?  Very probably it was: but if not, What of that?  What we ought to know, and what we ought to care for is, what the Bible tells us without a doubt, that however they came, God sent them.  However they were made, God made them.  Their manner, their place, their time was appointed exactly by God for a moral purpose.  To do something for the immortal souls of men; to punish sinners; to preserve the righteous; to teach Noah and his children after him a moral lesson, concerning righteousness and sin; concerning the wrath of God against sin; concerning God, that he governs the world and all in it, and does not leave the world, or mankind, to go on of themselves and by themselves.

You see, I trust, what a message this was, and is, and ever will be for men; what a message and good news it must have been especially for the heathen of old time.

For what would the heathen, what actually did the heathen think about such sights as a flood, or a rainbow?

They thought of course that some one sent the flood.  Common sense taught them that.

But what kind of person must he be, thought they, who sent the flood?  Surely a very dark, terrible, angry God, who was easily and suddenly provoked to drown their cattle and flood their lands.

But the rainbow, so bright and gay, the sign of coming fine weather, could not belong to the same God who made the flood.  What the fancies of the heathen about the rainbow were matters little to us: but they fancied, at least, that it belonged to some cheerful, bright and kind God.  And so with other things.  Whatever was bright, and beautiful, and wholesome in the world, like the rainbow, belonged to kind gods; whatever was dark, ugly, and destroying, like the flood, belonged to angry gods.

Therefore those of the heathen who were religious never felt themselves safe.  They were always afraid of having offended some god, they knew not how; always afraid of some god turning against them, and bringing diseases against their bodies; floods, drought, blight against their crops; storms against their ships, in revenge for some slight or neglect of theirs.

And all the while they had no clear notion that these gods made the world; they thought that the gods were parts of the world, just as men are, and that beyond the gods there was the some sort of Fate, or necessity, which even gods must obey.

Do you not see now what a comfort—what a spring of hope, and courage, and peace of mind, and patient industry—it must have been to the men of old time to be told, by this story of the flood, that the God who sends the flood sends the rainbow also?  There are not two gods, nor many gods, but one God, of whom are all things.  Light and darkness, storm or sunshine, barrenness or wealth, come alike from him.  Diseases, storm, flood, blight, all these show that there is in God an awfulness, a sternness, an anger if need be—a power of destroying his own work, of altering his own order; but sunshine, fruitfulness, peace, and comfort, all show that love and mercy, beauty and order, are just as much attributes of his essence as awfulness and anger.

They tell us he is a God whose will is to love, to bless, to make his creatures happy, if they will allow him.  They tell us that his anger is not a capricious, revengeful, proud, selfish anger, such as that of the heathen gods: but that it is an orderly anger, a just anger, a loving anger, and therefore an anger which in its wrath can remember mercy.  Out of God’s wrath shineth love, as the rainbow out of the storm; if it repenteth him that he hath made man, it is only because man is spoiling and ruining himself, and wasting the gifts of the good world by his wickedness.  If he see fit to destroy man out of the earth, he will destroy none but those who deserve and need destroying.  He will save those whom, like Noah, he can trust to begin afresh, and raise up a better race of men to do his work in the world.  If God send a flood to destroy all living things, any when or anywhere, he will show, by putting the rainbow in the cloud, that floods and destruction and anger are not his rule; that his rule is sunshine, and peace, and order; that though he found it necessary once to curse the ground, once to sweep away a wicked race of men, yet that even that was, if one dare use the words of God, against his gracious will; that his will was from the beginning, peace on earth, and not floods, and good will to men, and not destruction; and that in his heart, in the abyss of his essence, and of which it is written, that God is Love—in his heart I say, he said, ‘I will not again curse the ground any more for man’s sake, even though the imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth.  Neither will I again smite everything living, as I have done.  While the earth remaineth, seed-time and harvest, summer and winter, and day and night, shall not cease.’

This is the God which the book of Genesis goes on revealing and unveiling to us more and more—a God in whom men may trust.

The heathen could not trust their gods.  The Bible tells men of a God whom they can trust.  That is just the difference between the Bible and all other books in the world.  But what a difference!  Difference enough to make us say, Sooner that every other book in the world were lost, and the Bible preserved, than that we should lose the Bible, and with the Bible lose faith in God.

And now, my friends, what shall we learn from this?

What shall we learn?  Have we not learnt enough already?  If we have learnt something more of who God is; if we have learnt that he is a God in whom we can trust through joy and sorrow, through light and darkness, through life and death, have we not learnt enough for ourselves?  Yes, if even those poor and weak words about God which I have just spoken, could go home into all your hearts, and take root, and bear fruit there, they would give you a peace of mind, a comfort, a courage among all the chances and changes of this mortal life, and a hope for the life to come, such as no other news which man can tell you will ever give.  But there is one special lesson which we may learn from the history of the flood, of which I may as well tell you at once.  The Bible account of the flood will teach us how to look at the many terrible accidents, as we foolishly call them, which happen still upon this earth.  There are floods still, here and there, earthquakes, fires, fearful disasters, like that great colliery disaster of last year, which bring death, misery and ruin to thousands.  The Bible tells us what to think of them, when it tells us of the flood.

Do I mean that these disasters come as punishments to the people who are killed by them?  That is exactly what I do not mean.  It was true of the flood.  It is true, no doubt, in many other cases.  But our blessed Lord has specially forbidden us to settle when it is true to say that any particular set of people are destroyed for their sins: forbidden us to say that the poor creatures who perish in this way are worse than their neighbours.

‘Thinkest thou,’ he says, ‘that those Galilæans whose blood Pilate mingled with their sacrifices, were sinners above all the Galilæans?  Or those eighteen, on whom the tower in Siloam fell, and killed them; think you that they were sinners above all who dwelt in Jerusalem?  I tell you nay.’

‘Judge not,’ he says, ‘and ye shall not be judged,’ and therefore we must not judge.  We have no right to say, for instance, that the terrible earthquake in Italy, two years ago, came as a punishment for the sins of the people.  We have no right to say that the twenty or thirty thousand human beings, with innocent children among them by hundreds, who were crushed or swallowed up by that earthquake in a few hours, were sinners above all that dwelt in Italy.  We must not say that, for the Lord God himself has forbidden it.

But this we may say (for God himself has said it in the Bible), that these earthquakes, and all other disasters, great or small, do not come of themselves—do not come by accident, or chance, or blind necessity; but that he sends them, and that they fulfil his will and word.  He sends them, and therefore they do not come in vain.  They fulfil his will, and his will is a good will.  They carry out his purpose, but his purpose is a gracious purpose.  God may send them in anger; but in his anger he remembers mercy, and his very wrath to some is part and parcel of his love to the rest.  Therefore these disasters must be meant to do good, and will do good to mankind.  They may be meant to teach men, to warn them, to make them more wise and prudent for the future, more humble and aware of their own ignorance and weakness, more mindful of the frailty of human life, that remembering that in the midst of life we are in death, they may seek the Lord while he may be found, and call upon him while he is near.  They may be meant to do that, and to do a thousand things more.  For God’s ways are not as our ways, or his thoughts as our thoughts.  His ways are unsearchable, and his paths past finding out.  Who hath known the mind of the Lord, that he may instruct him, or even settle what the Lord means by doing this or that?

All we can say is—and that is a truly blessed thing to be able to say—that floods and earthquakes, fire and storms, come from the Lord whose name is Love; the same Lord who walked with Adam in the garden, who brought the children of Israel out of Egypt, who was born on earth of the Virgin Mary, who shed his life-blood for sinful man, who wept over Jerusalem even when he was about to destroy it so that not one stone was left on another, and who, when he looked on the poor little children of Judæa, untaught or mistaught, enslaved by the Romans, and but too likely to perish or be carried away captive in the fearful war which was coming on their land, said of them, ‘It is not the will of your Father in heaven, that one of these little ones shall perish.’  Him at least we can trust, in the dark and dreadful things of this world, as well as in the bright and cheerful ones; and say with Job, ‘Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.  I have received good from the hands of the Lord, and shall I not receive evil?’



SERMON V.  ABRAHAM



(First Sunday in Lent)

GENESIS xvii.  1, 2.  And when Abram was ninety years old and nine, the Lord appeared to Abram, and said unto him, I am the Almighty God; walk before me, and be thou perfect.

I have told you that the Bible reveals, that is, unveils the Lord God, Jesus Christ our Lord, and through him God the Father Almighty.  I have tried to show you how the Bible does so, step by step.  I go on to show you another step which the Bible takes, and which explains much that has gone before.

From whom did Moses and the holy men of old whom Moses taught get their knowledge of God, the true God?

The answer seems to be—from Abraham.

God taught Moses more, much more than he taught Abraham.  It was Moses who bade men call God Jehovah, the I AM; but who, hundreds of years before, taught them to call him the Almighty God?

The answer seems to be, Abraham.  God, we read, appeared to Abraham, and said to him, ‘Get thee out of thy country, and from thy father’s house, unto a land that I shall show thee, and I will make of thee a great nation.’  And again the Lord said to him, ‘I am the Almighty God, walk before me and be thou perfect, and thou shalt be a father of many nations.’

‘And Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him for righteousness.  And he was called the friend of God.’

But from what did Abraham turn to worship the living God?  From idols?  We are not certain.  There is little or no mention of idols in Abraham’s time.  He worshipped, more probably, the host of heaven, the sun and moon and stars.  So say the old traditions of the Arabs, who are descended from Abraham through Ishmael, and so it is most likely to have been.  That was the temptation in the East.  You read again and again how his children, the Jews, turned back from God to worship the host of heaven; and that false worship seems to have crept in at some very early time.  The sun, you must remember, and the moon are far more brilliant and powerful in the East than here; their power of doing harm or good to human beings and to the crops of the land is far greater; while the stars shine in the East with a brightness of which we here have no notion.  We do not know, in this cloudy climate, what St. Paul calls the glory of the stars; nor see how much one star differs from another star in glory; and therefore here in the North we have never been tempted to worship them as the Easterns were.  The sun, the moon, the stars, were the old gods of the East, the Elohim, the high and mighty ones, who ruled over men, over their good and bad fortunes, over the weather, the cattle, the crops, sending burning drought, pestilence, sun-strokes, and those moon-strokes which we never have here; but of which the Psalmist speaks when he says, ‘The sun shall not smite thee by day, neither the moon by night.’  And them the old Easterns worshipped in some wild confused way.

But to Abraham it was revealed that the sun, the moon, and the stars were not Elohim—the high and mighty Ones.  That there was but one Elohim, one high and mighty One, the Almighty maker of them all.  He did not learn that, perhaps, at once.  Indeed the Bible tells us how God taught him step by step, as he teaches all men, and revealed himself to him again and again, till he had taught Abraham all that he was to know.  But he did teach him this; as a beautiful old story of the Arabs sets forth.  They say how (whether before or after God called him, we cannot tell) Abraham at night saw a star: and he said, ‘This is my Lord.’  But when the star set, he said, ‘I like not those who vanish away.’  And when he saw the moon rising, he said, ‘This is my Lord.’  But when the moon too set, he said, ‘Verily, if my Lord direct me not in the right way, I shall be as one who goeth astray.’  But when he saw the sun rising, he said, ‘This is my Lord: this is greater than star or moon.’  But the sun went down likewise.  Then said Abraham, ‘O my people, I am clear of these things.  I turn my face to him who hath made the heaven and the earth.’

And was this all that Abraham believed—that the sun and moon and stars were not gods, but that there was a God besides, who had made them all?  My friends, there have been thousands and tens of thousands since, I fear, who have believed as much as that, and yet who cannot call Abraham their spiritual father, who are not justified by faith with faithful Abraham.

For merely to believe that, is a dead faith, which will never be counted for righteousness, because it will never make man a righteous man doing righteous and good deeds as Abraham did.

Of Abraham it is written, that what he knew, he did.  That his faith wrought with his works.  And by his works his faith was made perfect.  That when he gained faith in God, he went and acted on his faith.  When God called him he went out, not knowing whither he went.

His faith is only shown by his works.  Because he believed in God he went and did things which he would not have done if he had not believed in God.  Of him it is written, that he obeyed the voice of the Lord, and kept his charge, his commandments, his statutes, and his laws.

In a word, he had not merely found out that there was one God, but that that one God was a good God, a God whom he must obey, and obey by being a good man.  Therefore his faith was counted to him for righteousness, because it was righteousness, and made him do righteous deeds.

He believed that God was helping him; therefore he had no need to oppress or overreach any man.  He believed that God’s eye was on him; therefore he dared not oppress or overreach any man.

His faith in God made him brave.  He went forth he knew not whither; but he had put his trust in God, and he did not fear.  He and his three hundred slaves, born in his house, were not afraid to set out against the four Arab kings who had just conquered the five kings of the vale of Jordan, and plundered the whole land.  Abraham and his little party of faithful slaves follow them for miles, and fall on them and defeat them utterly, setting the captives free, and bringing back all the plunder; and then, in return for all that he has done, Abraham will take nothing—not even, he says, ‘a thread or a shoe-latchet—lest men should say, We have made Abraham rich.’  And why?

Because his faith in God made him high-minded, generous, and courteous; as when he bids Lot go whither he will with his flocks and herds.  ‘Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between thee and me.  If thou wilt take the left hand, I will go to the right.’  He is then, as again with the king of Sodom, and with the three strangers at the tent door, and with the children of Heth, when he is buying the cave of Machpelah for a burying-place for Sarah—always and everywhere the same courteous, self-restrained, high-bred, high-minded man.

It has been said that true religion will make a man a more thorough gentleman than all the courts in Europe.  And it is true: you may see simple labouring men as thorough gentlemen as any duke, simply because they have learned to fear God; and fearing him, to restrain themselves, and to think of other people more than of themselves, which is the very root and essence of all good breeding.  And such a man was Abraham of old—a plain man, dwelling in tents, helping to tend his own cattle, fetching in the calf from the field himself, and dressing it for his guests with his own hand; but still, as the children of Heth said of him, a mighty prince—not merely in wealth of flocks and herds, but a prince in manners and a prince in heart.

But faith in God did more for Abraham than this: it made him a truly pious man—it made him the friend of God.

There were others in Abraham’s days who had some knowledge of the one true God.  Lot his nephew, Abimelech, Aner, Eshcol, Mamre, and others, seem to have known whom Abraham meant when he spoke of the Almighty God.  But of Abraham alone it is said that he believed God; that he trusted in God, and rested on him; was built up on God; rested on God as a child in the mother’s arms—for this we are told, is the full meaning of the word in the Bible—and looked to God as his shield and his exceeding great reward.  He trusted in God utterly, and it was counted to him for righteousness.

And of Abraham alone it is said that he was the friend of God; that God spoke with him, and he with God.  He first of all men of whom we read, at least since the time of Adam, knew what communion with God meant; knew that God spoke to him as a friend, a benefactor, a preserver, who was teaching and training him with a father’s love and care; and felt that he in return could answer God, could open his heart to him, tell him not only of his wants, but of his doubts and fears.

Yes, we may almost say, on the strength of the Bible, that Abraham was the first human being, as far as we know, who prayed with his heart and soul; who knew what true prayer means—the prayer of the heart, by which man draws near to God, and finds that God is near to him.  This—this communion with God, is the especial glory of Abraham’s character.  This it is which has given him his name through all generations, The friend of God.  Or, as his descendants the Arabs call him to this day, simply, ‘The Friend.’

This it is which gained him the name of the Father of the Faithful; the father of all who believe, whether they be descended from him, or whether they be, like us, of a different nation.  This it is which has made a wise man say of Abraham, that if we will consider what he knew and did, and in what a dark age he lived, we shall see that Abraham may be (unless we except Moses) the greatest of mere human beings—that the human race may owe more to him than to any mortal man.

But why need we learn from Abraham? we who, being Christians, know and believe the true faith so much more clearly than Abraham could do.

Ah, my friends, it is easier to know than to believe, and easier to know than to do.  Easier to talk of Abraham’s faith than to have Abraham’s faith.  Easier to preach learned and orthodox sermons about how Abraham was justified by his faith, than to be justified ourselves by our own faith.

And say not in your hearts, ‘It was easy for Abraham to believe God.  I should have believed of course in his place.  If God spoke to me, of course I should obey him.’  My friends, there is no greater and no easier mistake.  God has spoken to many a man who has not believed him, neither obeyed him, and so he may to you.  God spoke to Abraham, and he believed him and obeyed him.  And why?  Because there was in Abraham’s heart something which there is not in all men’s hearts—something which answered to God’s call, and made him certain that the call was from God—even the Holy Spirit of God.

So God may call you, and you may obey him, if only the Spirit of God be in you; but not else.  May call you, did I say?  God does call you and me, does speak to us, does command us, far more clearly than he did Abraham.  We know the mystery of Christ, which in other ages was not made known to the sons of men as it is now revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit.  God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spoke to the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken to us by his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, and told us our duty, and the reward which doing our duty will surely bring, far more clearly than ever he did to Abraham.

But do we listen to him?  Do we say with Abraham, ‘O my people, I am clear of all these things which rise and set, which are born and die, which begin and end in time, and turn my face to him that made heaven and earth!’  If so, how is it that we see people everywhere worshipping not idols of wood and stone, but other things, all manner of things beside God, and saying, ‘These are my Elohim.  These are the high and mighty ones whom I must obey.  These are the strong things on which depend my fortune and my happiness.  I must obey them first, and let plain doing right and avoiding wrong come after as it can.’

One worships the laws of trade, and says, ‘I know this and that is hardly right; but it is in the way of business, and therefore I must do it.’

One worships public opinion, and follows after the multitude to do evil, doing what he knows is wrong, simply because others do it, and it is the way of the world.

One worships the interest of his party, whether in religion or in politics; and does for their sake mean and false, cruel and unjust things, which he would not do for his own private interest.

Too many, even in a free country, worship great people, and put their trust in princes, saying, ‘I am sorry to have to do this.  I know it is rather mean; but I must, or I shall lose such and such a great man’s interest and favour.’  Or, ‘I know I cannot afford this expense; but if I do not I shall not get into good society, and this person and that will not ask me to his house.’

All, meanwhile, except a few, rich or poor, worship money; and believe more or less, in spite of the Lord’s solemn warning to the contrary, that a man’s life does consist in the abundance of the things which he possesses.

These are the Elohim of this world, the high and mighty things to which men turn for help instead of to the living God, who was before all things, and will be after them; and behold they vanish away, and where then are those that have put their trust in them?

But blessed is he whose trust is in God the Almighty, and whose hope is in the Lord Jehovah, the eternal I Am.  Blessed is he who, like faithful Abraham, says to his family, ‘My people, I am clear of all these things.  I turn my face from them to him who hath made earth and heaven.  I go through this world like Abraham, not knowing whither I go; but like Abraham, I fear not, for I go whither God sends me.  I rest on God; he is my defence, and my exceeding great reward.  To have known him, loved him, obeyed him, is reward enough, even if I do not, as the world would say, succeed in life.  Therefore I long not for power and honour, riches and pleasure.  I am content to do my duty faithfully in that station of life to which God has called me, and to be forgiven for all my failings and shortcomings for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord, and that is enough for me; for I believe in my Father in heaven, and believe that he knows best for me and for my children.  He has not promised me, as he promised Abraham, to make of me a great nation; but he has promised that the righteous man shall never be deserted, or his children beg their bread.  He has promised to keep his covenant and mercy to a thousand generations with those who keep his commandments and do them; and that is enough for me.  In God have I put my trust, and I will not fear what man, or earth, or heaven, or any created thing can do unto me.’

Blessed is that man, whether he inherit honourably great estates from his ancestors, or whether he make honourably great wealth and station for himself; whether he spend his life quietly and honestly in the country farm or in the village shop, or whether he simply earn his bread from week to week by plough and spade.  Blessed is he, and blessed are his children after him.  For he is a son of Abraham; and of him God hath said, as of Abraham, ‘I know him that he will command his children and household after him, and they shall keep the way of the Lord, to do justice and judgment, that the Lord may bring on him the blessing which he has spoken.’

Yes; blessed is that man.  He has chosen his share of Abraham’s faith; and he and his children after him shall have their share of Abraham’s blessing.