Part 23
In the opinion of some, these words addressed to Peter on that memorable occasion when he confessed Jesus to be the Christ, the Son of the living God, gave to Peter a direction to take charge of divine affairs. The religious destiny of the race was placed in his hands. It was for him to save or condemn at will, and this power and commission he then turned over to his successor, alleged to be the pope at Rome. That was the common interpretation for hundreds of years. In consequence of that we have such happenings in history as that which took place at Canossa, when Henry IV of Germany, deposed from his royal office through the influence of the pope, came over the Alps to secure the Holy Father's absolution. He presented himself at the gate of Gregory VII, and made his humble petition. He was ordered to remain at the gate and abstain from food; he was further ordered to strip himself of the royal purple and put on hair-cloth. At the end of three weary days of penance, standing out in the cold and snow, and nearly famished, he was required to go into the presence of Pope Gregory and kiss his feet. Then this "vicar of God," as he styled himself, was pleased to say, "_Absolvo te_," "I absolve thee." And what child knows not the account of Tetzel, who, with an armful of indulgences and a chest bearing the inscription: "Soon as the money in the chest doth ring, the soul at once to heaven doth spring," sold as an article of merchandise, for so much consideration, so many and such great sins? The confessional, the extreme unction, the deliverance of souls from purgatory, these and other adjuncts and accessories that have risen from the claim of the Romish Church to the power of the keys, they allege were once given to St. Peter. But it rests, like so many other claims of that Church, upon a serious misinterpretation and perversion of the passage.
In the following chapter our Lord says to the whole band of apostles: "Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." And this He said not only on one occasion to them all, but on several. On this particular occasion He said it especially to Peter because Peter had acted as the spokesman of the rest and rendered a grand confession. Never do we find that any command, blessing, office, or grace was ever conferred here or anywhere upon Peter which was not conferred equally and also upon all the apostles of the Lord. Nor can it be shown from the Bible, nor from the history of the Church in apostolic times, or from those who lived next after the apostles, that Peter ever asserted, or sought to assert, such authority. On the contrary, Peter, in his Epistles, invariably refers to himself as simply one of the apostles, in no way the superior of the others, and when the first Christian synod was held, though he was present, it was James that presided and gave the official judgment of the assembly. If God's authority prevails, we must dismiss the Romish dogma which would entrench itself in this text as a falsehood, without the remotest claim to our respect. No, not to Peter exclusively was given the power of the keys; not even to the twelve apostles exclusively, in the sense that it belonged to them personally. They received it as a power, a commission, which belonged to the Church. In the 18th chapter of St. Matthew, speaking of this very thing, the Savior directs: "And if he neglect to hear them, tell it to the Church; but if he neglect to hear the Church, let him be unto thee as an heathen man and a publican. Verily, I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven."
Correctly does our Catechism define the office of the keys. It says: "The office of the keys is the peculiar Church power which Christ has given to His Church on earth, to forgive the sins of the penitent unto them, but to retain the sins of the impenitent as long as they do not repent." We learn, then, who is invested with this authority, _viz._, the Church, the congregation of believers. It is something which belongs to all Christians, not to one apostle only, or to twelve apostles only, but to every congregation that is met around the Word and the Sacrament. They have this jurisdiction and power. What jurisdiction and power? The power that attaches to the office of the keys is twofold. It is used to lock and to unlock, to fasten and to open the door.
First, there is the power to fasten and to lock. We call this administering discipline. This is necessary to the health and life of the Church. In the Corinthian church a certain man was guilty of a nameless crime. Possibly of good social standing, his offense was winked at. St. Paul, however, exhorts the Corinthian congregation to deal summarily with him; he exhorts them to meet in the name of the Lord, and deliver this evil-doer over to Satan in the hope that he might come to his senses and be reclaimed--"for the destruction of the flesh," as the phrase is. In another place he writes: "I have written unto you not to keep company, if any man that is called a brother be a fornicator, or covetous, or an idolater, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an extortioner. Put away from among yourselves that wicked person." It was what we call suspension, excommunication, or the ban.
It is not a pleasant duty by any means, as little as it is a pleasant thing to amputate, to cut off a member of the body; but if the member be gangrenous and a menace to the life of the body, and nothing but an amputation will do, then let it be done. A congregation is answerable before the Head of the Church; it must keep its membership and roster clear; it dare not permit among its membership impenitent and manifest sinners, those who are despisers of God's means of grace, the Word and the Sacrament, whose morals are a blot, whose lives are a stench in the nostrils of the believers and of the world. Such, after due hearing, exhortation, remonstrance, must be turned out. They have no place in the company of Christians. This is the exercise of the office of the keys in the one direction. In general, it is to be deplored that the Christian Churches do not exercise this power as they ought. It would mean the reawakening and recovery of many a sinner.
The other part of the office of the keys is what is called absolution, the power to forgive sins. That power the Church has committed to it, as we heard in the text, by Christ Himself. There is much misconception on this among even Christians; to some it is no small stumbling-block. It need not be. The matter is quite simple and plain.
Could Peter forgive sins? The Lord says so. Could the apostles forgive sins? The Lord says so. Can the Church, through its called ministers, forgive sins? The Lord says so. Yes, we may press the question still further and ask, Can every Christian forgive sins? What the Church, as the collective body of Christians, can do, that each Christian can do as an individual. Yes, every Christian can forgive sins. How is that to be understood? Peter, as Peter, as a man, could not forgive sins of himself and by his own authority. No man can forgive sins--that is a divine prerogative. But Christ gave to Peter the charge, the commission, to do so. The power, then, was not in Peter, but in the charge, the commission. When the Governor of our State issues a pardon and sends a messenger to deliver it, it is rightly and properly said that the messenger brings pardon to the prisoner. The power, of course, is not of the messenger, but of the Governor, as vested in the message of pardon. Equally so the Gospel is the message of pardon to sinful men. The ministers of Christ, as the messengers of the Churches, proclaim that message. The power of the pardon does not depend upon them, their general piety or impiety; the power of the pardon rests upon Him that gave it, the great Governor of the Church. And yet, can it not be justly, truthfully, and properly said in their case, as in the case mentioned, that the messengers bring pardon to the prisoners, that they forgive sins? So our Lord spoke, so our Catechism speaks, and so we may speak.
Not the power of absolute forgiveness does the text confer upon the Church, but that of declarative forgiveness. But this declaration of forgiveness, it must be held, is real forgiveness. When the Church forgives sins, they are forgiven. The words of Christ say that as distinctly as words can say it. "Whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them." The pardon brought by the messenger is a real pardon, as certain and valid as if the Governor had brought it himself. And so, declares our Catechism, when in the confessional service the minister pronounces the forgiveness of sins, you are to receive it as from God Himself and in no wise to doubt, but firmly to believe that by it your sins are forgiven before God in heaven.
This is the teaching of God's Word in regard to the loosing power of the office of the keys. A comforting teaching it is. We Christians, it is true, have the assurance of forgiveness already in our baptism, in the general preaching of the Gospel, and in the Lord's Supper; but that does not make absolution superfluous. Battling, as we have daily to do, against flesh and blood, disturbed as we are by many a conflict, many a doubt, fightings and fears within, without, how uplifting the words of absolution addressed to you directly, individually: "My son, my daughter, be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee!"
God preserve us from all abuse, perversion, and misunderstanding of His Word and ministry, and give us the comfort and blessing that come from both! Amen.
FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
And Ananias went his way, and entered into the house; and putting his hands on him, said, Brother Saul, the Lord, even Jesus, that appeared unto thee in the way as thou camest, hath sent me, that thou mightest receive thy sight, and be filled with the Holy Ghost. And immediately there fell from his eyes as it had been scales; and he received sight forthwith, and arose and was baptized.--_Acts 9, 17, 18._
We hear in the Gospel of this Sunday how by speech and by miracle our Lord called four of His disciples from their fishing boats to the labors of His ministry. His first selection fell upon persons from the humble walks of life, plain, unlettered fishermen, toilers for their daily bread in a lowly occupation. There was divine wisdom in the choice. Being of the common people, they knew the thoughts, feelings, and habits of the common people, and so could best adapt themselves and their preaching to the general masses. But the time came when God, for the propagation of His saving Gospel, for the upbuilding of His Church, needed another sort and stamp of man, a man whose learning, eloquence, and boldness should elevate the Gospel before the eyes of all the world. And then as now He was not at a loss to secure such a chosen vessel. We shall regard in these moments sacred to devotion the call or conversion of St. Paul.
About the time that the boy Jesus was found in the temple seated among the doctors, both hearing them and asking them questions, far to the northwest of Jerusalem, in the heathen city of Tarsus, there was born a babe, born of strict Jewish parents, of the tribe of Benjamin, but also, because his father in some way had become a Roman citizen, also born to the rights and privileges of Roman citizenship. Being a bright child, of great natural gifts, he was given careful training at home in the schools of his native city, and then sent to Jerusalem, to finish his education under the care and tuition of Gamaliel, the most renowned rabbi of the Jewish land then living. His family, apparently well to do, spared no expense to make him one of the most learned men of his day; nor did they fail in their attempt, as his writings, masterpieces of composition and logic, abundantly testify.
The first mention that we have of Paul, or, rather, at that time Saul, is in connection with the scenes that led up to the murder of Stephen, the first Christian martyr. When the Christian religion began to spread in the very center of Judaism, Jerusalem, great disputation arose between its followers and the Jews. And Saul, who belonged to the strictest sect of the Jewish religion, the Pharisees, and was a man of strong feeling and enthusiastic in temper, soon became involved in these discussions, and so we find that when the mob took Stephen and ignominiously stoned him to death, it says of Saul: "He was consenting unto his death," and that the murderers "laid down their clothes at a young man's feet named Saul."
Nor did he stop here. His whole being was so aflame with religious zeal that he knew only one purpose of life, and that was to blot out the name of that detestable Founder of the new religion and His followers. Accordingly, we read in Acts that "Saul made havoc of the Church, entering into every house, and haling men and women, committed them to prison." And not satisfied with his work at Jerusalem, he began to extend his persecution to distant cities. The opening verses of this chapter read: "And Saul yet breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord, went unto the high priest, and desired of him letters to Damascus to the synagogues, that if he found any of this way, whether they were men or women, he might bring them bound unto Jerusalem." Damascus, in Syria, now the oldest city in the world, had opened its gates as a refuge to the Christians, and provided with legal papers from the high priests, he set out at the head of an armed and mounted force to bring those Christians at Damascus to terms. But he did not. In the affairs of men it ever remains true: Man proposes, God disposes, and most wonderfully did He dispose in the case of Saul of Tarsus.
It was high noon in Syria, the sun standing in its zenith. On the road leading from Jerusalem to Damascus could be heard the clattering of horses' hoofs. The horsemen could already see the beautiful city rising upon their sight and its gates swinging open, when, suddenly, there came a flash from the sky, and "a light above the brightness of the sun" shone round about them, with such overwhelming effect that it struck the chief with blindness, smote him to the ground, and filled every man with terror and dismay. And to this brilliancy of light was added a clear and distant voice ringing through the air, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?"
Like pointed steel these words went down into Saul's heart. He had been persecuting the Christians, and now comes a voice from heaven, saying, "Why persecutest thou Me?" What! could it be possible that God identifies Himself with these people he, Saul, was seeking to destroy? Could it be true that He whom His nation had crucified was indeed the Messiah, risen and alive? Overcome with remorse, Saul raises his sightless eyeballs on high and asks, "Who art Thou, O Lord?" And back comes the quick reply, "I am Jesus, whom thou persecutest." That was too much for him. Here was the voice of Jehovah Himself,--what could he do but submit? Trembling and astonished he said, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" The victory was won. The Galilean had conquered. "Arise," said He, "and go into the city, and it shall be told thee what thou must do." For three days Saul lay sick in Damascus unable to see, to move, to eat and drink by reason of the great convulsions that had shaken up his body and soul, but during that time undergoing a change which has placed his name among the great and noble members of the kingdom of heaven. At the close of these never-to-be-forgotten days God sent to him one of the faithful disciples, or Christians, living at Damascus, Ananias by name. Ananias at first was very reluctant to go, having heard such evil report of the man, but the Lord had said, "Go," and that settled the matter. He found the dreaded Saul lying on his couch, addressed him with brotherly kindness, told him why he had come, and laid his hands upon him. "And immediately there fell from his eyes as it had been scales; and he received sight forthwith, and arose and was baptized." This interesting narrative shall we view as to the subject of conversion and as to its significance to the Church.
Taking up some practical lessons on the subject of conversion: What was there in St. Paul's case that need not be looked for in other cases? And what was there in it that is common to every case? Let us look at St. Paul's case. He was called in a miraculous manner by the Savior. It was a miracle to prove the truth of Christianity in that early day. But now we have no ground to look for like circumstances in the conversion of any one in our day. If Saul of Tarsus saw Jesus appearing to him in the way, the sinner must not, for this reason, also expect to be visited by some remarkable call, dream, vision, or supernatural impression upon his mind.
Again, Saul fell to the earth, and was in great distress of mind and body for three days. It does not follow from this that every unconverted person must be in such distress before he can take a step in the right direction. The Ethiopian eunuch, of whom we read in the preceding chapter, received the Word without any such process, and "went on his way rejoicing." Of the three thousand who were converted in one day it is merely said: "They gladly received the Word and were baptized."
Sometimes true Christians feel much uneasiness and anxiety because they cannot point to any such distinguishing moments in their experience. They have never passed through the mental anguish that others speak of. They have never felt as Saul of Tarsus must have felt those three days of blindness. Such persons forget that in most of the cases recorded in the Gospel there were no experiences of this kind, but conversion consisted simply in the cordial and quiet acceptance of the Lord Jesus.
Again, in Paul's case there was something to fix the precise time of his conversion. He could name the day, the very hour, when he fell upon the ground trembling and afraid. Is it, therefore, necessary that every believer should be able to designate the precise time of his conversion? Not one Christian out of ten can tell the date of his conversion.
It is generally the case that the grosser the sins are, the more marked will the change be. When any one who has made himself conspicuous in crime and wickedness is converted, it is like the lighting of a candle in a room utterly dark. There is a sudden change from darkness to light. It is, therefore, easy to fix the precise time when darkness ceased and light prevailed. But the case is very different from those who have been molded and influenced from youth up by religious teaching and training.
How was it possible for Timothy to tell when he commenced to be a Christian? He was instructed from his youth in the Holy Scriptures. He could not remember the time when he was not pious and God-fearing. He always belonged to the Lord--in his childhood, in his youth, in his manhood. The same is true of John the Baptist. How could he tell when he was converted? He was sanctified from his birth, we are told. Where, then, was there room for a sudden and marked change in him? Yes, I am free to remark that it is just what God wants in the case of each one. He does not want us to know the precise time of our conversion. He does not want any one to give a part of his life to sin and Satan, so that a sudden, marked, and definite change seems necessary. He does not want you to act the part of an infidel for awhile, in order that you may be able to tell us the day or the hour when you became a believer. No, God wants your whole life; from beginning to end it is to be consecrated to God, our Savior. And does it not follow from this, that the more faithfully our children are instructed in the doctrines and duties of our holy religion, in the family, in the Sunday-school, and in the catechetical class, the less the number will become of those who can point to the particular time of their conversion? The whole work of the Sunday-school throughout and the whole work of the pastor in the catechetical class has this grand object in mind, to make a Timothy out of every child, one who is instructed in the Holy Scriptures from his youth, and who knows no time when he did not belong to the Lord.