Part 17

This was a crisis in Peter's life. Hitherto he had been tended as a sheep, henceforth he was to tend as a shepherd. Having been converted, that is to say, having been turned again to his Master, he is henceforth to strengthen his brethren. What hinders us from doing likewise, pastors and teachers, educating, tending, and feeding the flock of God? This is the privilege of the laity, not less than of the ministry. When the laity really do their work, they, too, are really a ministry, true shepherds. But let us evermore keep in mind--which was the first part of our sermon--that the essential qualification, the principle of such service, as it is the only thing that will render your work delightful and carry you through all difficulties, is love to Christ, "Lovest thou me more than these?--Feed my sheep." Amen.

THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.

Neither do men, light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.--_Matt. 5, 15. 16._

The religion of Jesus Christ is the religion of everyday life. He touched the common things, and, like a magic wand, they changed into the finest gold. He went into the kitchen for a text, and transfigured the meal, the dough in the bread wrought into a parable of God's working grace. He went into the garden or the woods, and found a lesson in the springing seed and the flowers which carpeted the ground. "Consider the lilies," He said in His Sermon on the Mount. He went on board the fishing boat, and the nets become a picture of the kingdom of heaven. Here, in this immediate verse, our Lord steps into an Eastern or Oriental house for a text and speaks under the illustration of an article which is to be found in every home, of a candle, or rather, a lamp.

The Apostle Peter, who was present at the original preaching, must have carefully noted the comparison, for he speaks in to-day's Epistle-lesson in nearly the same language as His Master when he admonishes his hearers to let people see their good works and thus glorify God. May we do likewise as we shall now regard, under God's blessing, the Christian's duty to let his light shine before men, observing, _I. How this is done_; _II. why it ought to be done_.

Be it noted, my beloved, at the outset, that man, in and of himself, is not a light; he is darkness. Says the Apostle, writing to the Ephesians, "Ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye a light in the Lord." How did they get light? Not by worldly science and learning. Many are very learned and literate, and yet their souls are enwrapped in thick darkness and without hope in the world. And there are those who are illiterate, incompetent to read and write, who rejoice in this light as the star of their hope. In the eighth chapter of John the Lord says: "I am the Light of the world; he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." Jesus Christ, then, and He alone, is the one true Light. To have light, light unto eternal life, you must seek, embrace Him as your Savior, your Righteousness, the Propitiation and Reconciliation for your sins. You must recognize in Him the wisdom of God and the way to God. Here you have in what sense Christians are lights, _viz._, by Jesus Christ. The sun shines by its own inherent light, the moon by borrowed light. In itself a dark body the moon shines only because the light of the sun falls upon it and is reflected from it. Christ is the Sun of Righteousness, resplendent in His own glory, which He had before ever the world was. We have our light from Christ, the true Light, which lights every man, says the Bible, that cometh into the world.

And what dispensation is made of this light? "Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick, and it giveth light unto all that are in the house." A candle or lamp under a bushel would be of no advantage to any one. A light locked up in a cupboard would leave the house in darkness. Correspondingly, we Christians are meant to be lights that can be seen. A man cannot be a Christian in secret. It is a delusion if a person thinks he might be a Christian privately for himself, that he need not associate with, join the church, or make a public confession of his faith.

In the days of Christ many of the chief rulers believed on Him, but because of the Pharisees they did not confess Him, lest they should be put out of the synagogues. It is said of them that they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God, and had their reward. We, my brethren, as Christ's people, must not keep our religion locked up or hidden; we must not be ashamed of it, and we must not be selfish about it. If you believe in the truth of the Gospel; if you hold the doctrine of the Church; if you reverence the Bible; if you are given to prayer,--hang out the light, let others know it, put that precious lamp where others may share it. What use is there to tell us that such and such a person is a burning and shining light in the religious world, unless we can see his light shining before men? They are no more helps as guides than a lighthouse whose lantern is gone out; no one is the better for it.

And this light is twofold; it is a light of warning, and it is a light of holy example.--A light of warning. If you look at a great railway station at night, you will see numbers of lamps, some showing a red, some a green, some a white light. These are all warnings to the many trains leaving or entering the station, and upon them depends the safety of hundreds of lives. If the signal man fails to show the red light when there is danger, wholesale destruction follows. Dear hearers, there are times when we are called upon to show the danger signal. If we see a relative or friend deliberately going into danger, taking a course which means ruin to his character, ruin to his soul, what is our duty? Are we to say, I am very sorry, and thus hide our light under a bushel? No, we must try to stop a brother from destruction; we must say a word of warning, kindly, tactfully, but firmly; we must say, For God's sake, stop! If you see an acquaintance imbibing too freely, frequenting the place at the corner, show him the danger, hang out the red light. If you see young people neglecting religious duties, slinking about after dark in bad company, going with those who bet and gamble,--let them go? No; try to turn them on a safe road; hang out the red light, the danger signal.

I once read of a man who was engaged as a laborer on a railway. One stormy night, when he returned to his cabin, he found that a sudden landslide had occurred, and that part of the track was blocked where the express would pass in a few moments. Would he remain quiet and let the accident happen? What could he do to show the danger signal? He had in his cabin an old lantern lighted by a piece of candle, but that would not show the red light. Then, when the roar of the advancing train was audible in the distance, he seized a glass flask and with the broken neck cut into the veins of his wrist he let the blood color the lantern, and the candle shone through it with a dim red light, and this, scarcely able to stand, he held up on high, just in time to stop the express at the edge of destruction. Take that illustration for what it is worth, just so it impresses you with the importance of showing the red danger signal unto others.

And so it is also with the signal light that is clear and white, the signal of holy example. Let that also shine. As we look carefully at our text, it would seem as if the Master had two spheres in mind when He spoke these words. We are told that when the lamp or candle is put in its proper place and doing its proper work, it gives light to _all_ in the house. There is nothing like household religion. Sometimes professing Christians are very bright and shining lights in public, and quite dark in private, in the home and family circle. The right sort of Christianity shows a pure, clear light amid the troubles, worries, and anxieties of home. It will not do for the wife to be a shining light in society or at the public meeting, and at home be fretful and unkind to her husband, a constant scold and a scare to her children, perpetually complaining and quarreling. It will not do for men to make brilliant speeches on the blessings and benefits of Christianity, if they show no example of it by the fireside. Take care of the home light; let it shine clear there, if anywhere. But not only there!

A lady who was once asked to unite with a society of the church, no circumstances or other considerations preventing, declined, replying that she had a society to look after with which none compared. Which is that? "That society is my family." There was truth in that; the family is the chief society. Parents are to exercise a Christian example in the home. Christian discipleship, like charity, begins there. But it does not end there, nor is it restricted there. "No man liveth unto himself, neither alone unto his family." He belongs to his country, to his church, to the world, to mankind at large, and has duties toward them. "Ye are the light of the world," is the language of the Savior. What will men not do to gain followers for a party in politics and otherwise! And in matters of salvation, Church, Gospel, eternal life, we should be timid, silent, diffident, shy, reluctant to open our mouths and assert our convictions, stand aside, and place our convictions under a bushel? Surely, that's not letting the light shine. So much as to the nature and mission of this spiritual light.

In conclusion, a word as to the blessedness that attends it. This blessedness, in part, affects ourselves. Blessing others, we are blessed. Gaining others, we gain. I think here, by way of illustration, of the two travelers who, plodding along through snow and bitter cold, discovered a man lying by the roadside frozen and numbed. Said the one, "I cannot stay here to attend to this fellow, I must take care of my own life." The other, like the good Samaritan of old, remarked, "I cannot pass on without having made some attempt to restore him," whereupon he set about to rub him with all his might. His efforts were rewarded; after a little while the unfortunate man opened his eyes, and, arising, went with his rescuer. What surprise was theirs when, passing along, they saw the man who had selfishly and heartlessly continued his way, lying frozen to death. The good Samaritan, by his labor of love, had stirred his blood into intense circulation, and thereby saved his own life. Spiritually it is just that way. Seeking to win others for eternal life, we win eternal life for ourselves. Our faith is strengthened, charity increased, we are blessed in our deed.

And this is the second consideration,--our Father in heaven is glorified. That is the great thing we must aim at in everything we do in religion. In this center the lives of all our actions must meet. We must not only endeavor to glorify God ourselves, but must do all we can to bring others to glorify Him.

We have considered a grand spiritual truth, our exalted position and calling. Conscious of it, may we shed forth the beams of illumination for the lightening and the brightening of a dark and gloomy world, receiving supply from the true and only Light, Christ Jesus, until we shall dwell in the world where God Himself is the Light and where we shall shine as the stars for ever and ever. Amen.

FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.

Teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.--_Col. 3, 16._

We read in the 28th chapter of Genesis that when Jacob, the patriarch, was fleeing from the wrath of his brother Esau into the land of Mesopotamia, while resting at night upon a stone for his pillow, he had a wonderful dream. A ladder extended from heaven to earth, angels ascending and descending upon it, and God, standing at the top, spoke to the heartsore traveler beneath. That vision was highly typical. The ladder was a symbol of the intimate connection that existed between him and the God of his fathers, Abraham and Isaac; the angels ascending and descending, were a symbol that his prayers and sighs had come up before the heavenly throne, whilst the words of the Almighty were a guarantee that his journey would take a prosperous end, and cheerfully, we are told, did the patriarch take up his pilgrim staff and resume his route in the morrow. Now as it is with all things we find written in the Old Testament, so with this also. We have the reality of what Jacob experienced in dream only. The ladder which now extends between heaven and earth, connecting us pilgrims or strangers with our heavenly home, that ladder is Jesus Christ, man's Mediator, who declares, "I am the Way; no man cometh unto the Father but by me."--The word of the Almighty, then spoken, we have, greatly amplified, in this divine revelation, this holy volume before us; nor are the angels, these celestial messengers, missing to carry on communication and intercourse between God and sinful man. Figuratively and symbolically speaking, these angels stand for all those agencies, exercises, and accompaniments by which the soul is lifted up to heaven and God, and by which we are spiritually helped and edified, and it is one such holy agency and accompaniment of sacred truth that we wish to consider in these moments of devotion.

St. Paul speaks in our immediate text of "teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs." Let us regard these words, and may ours be the same confession as Jacob's at Bethel: "How venerable is this place! This is none other but the house of God and this is the gate of heaven."

"O sing unto the Lord a new song, for He hath done marvelous things." "Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, sing forth the honor of His name, with the harp, with trumpets and the sound of cornet. Praise ye the Lord." These are the words of the 98th Psalm of David, and it was with this Psalm that the service began, in the ancient Church, on the fourth Sunday after Easter. The name of the Sunday is Cantate, which means "Singing Sunday," and probably there is no time in the course of the civil church-year more appropriate to raise one's voice in rejoicing and heart-felt song. In nature a new era of revival and tender growth has gone forth; the earth is clothed with loveliness, refreshed with energy, and from birds and blades, from flowering buds and a tender branch goes up a joyful melody and proclamation to their Creator; and when we come into His sanctuary, the house of His Word and His worship, and reflect on the blessed Easter scene from which we are just coming, we have reason to tune our voices in strains of loudest and loveliest anthems, and an appropriate and beautiful thing it certainly is to bring this noblest of human arts to the aid of the soul in its communication with God. Since time immemorial has the power of music been acknowledged over the heart of man. "Let me make the songs of the people," said a celebrated statesman, "and I care not who makes the laws." An illustrious Greek philosopher was not far wrong when he stated that the human soul was closely allied to rhythm and harmony, and we know that the Court of Rome feared the sacred hymns of Luther as much, if not more, than his publications and fiery eloquence.

Turning to the Holy Scriptures, we observe a constant recognition of music in the Old Testament and in the New. Standing on the shores of the Red Sea, Moses, the man of God, chants forth the gratitude of his people after their safe deliverance from Egypt's bondage in song, whilst Miriam, his sister, responds with timbrel and dance. David, the anointed shepherd boy, takes his harp and charms into tranquillity the ferocious spirit of Saul. Elisha, when he would prophesy, calls for a minstrel, and under his playing the prophet's heart grows warm and his lips eloquent with a message from God. And where do we hear of more magnificent renderings than in the temple at Jerusalem, thousands of voices organized in costly choir to chant with accompaniment of complete orchestra, the psalms written by their monarch, David, called the sweet singer of Israel. Cherubim and Seraphim are incessantly praising God in thrice "Holy to the God of Sabaoth," and angels' choirs filled the midnight stillness of Bethlehem's plains. Add to this Zacharias' _Benedictus_ and Mary's _Magnificat_, which have lent their hallowed inspiration to ages since in the Christian Church, and if there is one scene which impresses every reader of his Bible, and to which he looks forward with pure delight, it is the worship of the Lamb in Revelation, the joining of the celestial choir in hymns of endless melody. Desiring to bear our part in that tuneful service, can our lips be silent on earth? Nay, music is one of God's good and perfect gifts, of which to-day's Epistle speaks as coming down from above. True, like all other good gifts to man, it has been seized upon and perverted for evil purpose by the enemy. Satan it is who has levied upon music and made sad havoc in the line of song. But shall we abandon to him the territory? Shall we not make reprisal upon the enemy, consecrate to the divine Giver His first-fruits? And unquestionably, in the worship of our Lutheran Church, hymnology has a larger and a more correct province than in any other body of Christians. I have listened to various music, I have heard entranced the melting tones of the _Miserere_ in early mass at the Catholic Cathedral, the sweetly attuned antiphons of a vested Episcopal choir. I have listened to solos and quartets, accomplished tunes, composed by masters; but what do all these solos, superbly rendered, amount to when in God's worship the congregation itself sits mute in its pews, deprived of every response, as in the Catholic Church, or too indolent to respond, as in many others? Is it Christian, is it churchly, is it consistent with our text or the spirit of true worship, that ninety-nine tongues of a hundred be silent in the house of the Lord? When the minister turns to the people and says, "The Lord be with you," is he supposed to address only four singers and an organist? No, my dear hearers, praise is the duty and privilege of all the people, and to deny or stint them in a share in it is to wrong their souls and insult their Maker. A well-tuned solo is good, the chorus of the choir is better, but best of all is the response and song of the entire congregation, sending up its confession and praise to the God of heaven. There is nothing more solemn and pleasing to the Lord of Sabaoth than a singing congregation, and nothing more dull and spiritless than singing wailed forth in melody calculated to freeze the last spark of holy fire upon the altar of the heart.

Having emphasized which is the best form of songful worship, that by the congregation, let us regard it a little more closely. The singing of a congregation of worshipers is, as it were, the preaching of the congregation, is the confession which it renders on its part and in behalf of its faith, is the Amen which it places upon the words and utterances of the preacher. The most important place, it must ever be maintained, in a truly evangelical service, is the exposition, the setting forth of God's Word. A worship consisting exclusively of singing, commonly called a Song Service, is an innovation in Lutheran church life, and a very questionable one at that. The object of our attendance at church is not to hear "sweet music,"--this can be better answered at the concert or the oratorio,--honest Christian people come to hear God's Word, to build up their souls in divine truth. The sweetest tune sung by the lips of angels or of man cannot replace the least passage of the Bible, for it alone is the power of God unto salvation. Christianity is not rapturous ecstasy, super-induced by fine melody, not emotional feeling; Christianity means repentance and faith.