Chapter I: CHARITY, says he, is out of a pure heart: that is, it proceeds (1)

from a heart, free from the habits of sin, and unpolluted by corrupt affections.

To see with what propriety, the Apostle makes a pure heart the _parent_ of charity, we are to reflect, that this benevolent temper, which inclines us to wish and do well to others, is the proper growth and produce, indeed, of the human mind, but of the human mind in its native and original integrity. To provide effectually for the maintenance of the social virtues, it hath pleased God to implant in man, not only the power of reason, which enables him to see the connexion between his own happiness and that of others, but also certain instincts and propensities, which make him _feel_ it, and, without reflexion, incline him to take part in foreign interests. For, among the other wonders of our make, this is _one_, that we are so formed as, whether we will or no, _to rejoice with them that rejoice, and weep with them that weep_[68]. But now this sympathetic tenderness, which nature hath put into our hearts for the concerns of each other, may be much impaired by habitual neglect, or selfish gratifications. If, instead of listening to those calls of nature, which, on the entrance into life, are incessantly, but gently, urging us to acts of generosity, we turn a deaf ear to them, and, charmed by the suggestions of self-love, yield up ourselves to the dominion of the grosser appetite, it cannot be but that the love of others, however natural to us, must decline, and become, at length, a feeble motive to action; or, which amounts to the same thing, be constantly overpowered by the undue prevalence of other principles. Thus we may see, how ambition, avarice, sensuality, or any other of the more selfish passions, tends directly, by indulgence, to obstruct the growth of _charity_; and how favourable an uncorrupt mind is to the production and maturity of this divine virtue.

But, further, the impurities of the heart do not only hinder the exertions of _benevolence_; they have even a worse effect, they cause us to pervert and misapply it. It is not, perhaps, so easy a matter, as some imagine, to divest ourselves of all attachment to the interest of our fellow-creatures. But, by a long misuse of our faculties, we may come in time to mistake the objects of _true_ interest; and so be carried, by the motives of benevolence itself, to do irreparable mischief to those we would most befriend and oblige. This seems to be the case of those most abandoned of all sinners, who take pains to corrupt others, and not only do wicked things themselves, _but have pleasure in those who do them_[69]. All that can be said for these unhappy victims of their own lusts, is, that their _perverted benevolence_ prompts them to encourage others in that course of life, from which, if it were rightly exercised, they would endeavour, with all their power, to divert them.

So necessary it is, that charity should be out of _a pure heart_! It is polluted in its very birth, unless it proceed from an honest mind: it is spurious and illegitimate, if it be not so descended.

II. The next step in this line of moral ancestry, is a GOOD CONSCIENCE: which phrase is not to be taken here in the negative sense, and as equivalent only to a _pure heart_; but as expressing a further, a _positive_ degree of goodness. For so we find it explained elsewhere; _having_, says St. Peter, a GOOD CONSCIENCE, _that whereas they speak evil of you, as_ EVIL DOERS, _they may be ashamed that falsely accuse your_ GOOD CONVERSATION _in Christ Jesus: for it is better, if the will of God be so, that ye suffer for_ WELL DOING, _than for evil doing_[70]. Whence, by _a good conscience_, we are authorized to understand a mind, _conscious to itself of beneficent actions_. And thus the Apostle’s intention will be, to insinuate to us, that, to be free from _depraved affections_, we must be actively virtuous; and that we must be _zealous_ in good works, if we would attain to that _purity_ of heart, which is proper to beget the genuine virtue of Christian charity.

For, we may conceive of the matter, thus. A _good conscience_, or a mind enured to right action, is most likely, and best enabled, to shake off all corrupt partialities; and, as being intent on the strenuous exercise of its duty, in particular instances, to acquire, in the end, that tone of virtue, which strengthens, at once, and refines the affections, till they expand themselves into an universal good-will. Thus we see that, without this moral discipline, we should scarce possess, or not long retain, a _pure heart_; and that the heart, _if pure_, would yet be inert and sluggish, and unapt to entertain that prompt and ready benevolence, which true charity implies.

So that an active practical virtue, as serving both to purify and invigorate the kind affections, has deservedly a place given to it in this lineal descent of Christian love. But,

III. The Apostle rises higher yet in this genealogical scale of charity, and acquaints us that a _good conscience_, or a course of active positive virtue, is not properly and lawfully descended, unless it proceed from a FAITH UNFEIGNED, that is, a sincere undissembled belief of the Christian religion.

And the reason is plain. For there is no dependance on virtuous practice; we cannot expect that it should either be steady, or lasting, unless the principle, from which it flows, be something nobler and more efficacious, than considerations taken from the beauty, propriety, and usefulness of virtue itself. Our active powers have need to be sustained and strengthened by energies of a higher kind, than those which mere philosophy supplies. We shall neither be able to bear up against the difficulties of a good life, nor to stand out against the temptations, which an evil world is always ready to throw in our way, but by placing a firm trust on the promises of God, and by keeping our minds fixed on the glorious hopes and assurances of the Gospel. And _experience_ may satisfy us, that practical virtue has no stability or consistency, without these supports.

Besides, considering a _good conscience_, or a moral practical conduct, with an eye to its influence on a _pure heart_, till it issue in complete _charity_, we cannot but see how the Christian faith is calculated to direct its progress, and secure the great end proposed. For the whole system of our divine religion, which hath its foundation in _grace_; its _precepts_, which breathe nothing but love and amity; its _doctrines_, which only present to us, under different views, the transcendent goodness of God in the great work of redemption; its _history_, which records the most engaging instances of active benevolence; all this cannot but exceedingly inspirit our affections, and carry them out in a vigorous and uniform prosecution of the subordinate _means_, which are to produce that last perfection of our nature, a pure and permanent love of mankind. For at every step we cannot but see the _end of the commandment_, so perpetually held out to us, and derive a fresh inducement from _faith_, to accomplish and obtain it.

Indeed, to produce this effect, our _faith_, as the Apostle adds, must be UNFEIGNED: that is, it must be nourished and intimately rooted in the heart; we must not only yield a general assent to the sacred truths of our religion, we must embrace them with earnestness and zeal, we must rely upon them with an unshaken confidence and resolution. But all this will be no difficulty to those who derive their _faith_ from its proper source, that is, who make a diligent study of the holy scriptures: where _only_ we learn what the _true_ faith (which will ever be most friendly to virtue) is; and whence we shall _best_ derive those motives and considerations, which are proper to excite and fortify this principle in us.

And thus, that Charity, which a _pure mind_ gives the liberty of exerting, and which a _good conscience_ manifests and at the same time improves, will, further, be so sublimed and perfected by the influence of divine _faith_, as will render it the sovereign guide of life, and the pride and ornament of humanity.

Or, to place the descent of Charity, in its true and natural order, it must spring, first, from an _unfeigned faith_ in the Gospel of Jesus: that faith must then produce, and shew itself in, a _good conscience_: and that conscience must be thoroughly purged from all selfish and disorderly _affections_: whence, lastly, the celestial offspring of _Charity_ has its birth, and comes forth in all the purity and integrity of its nature.

FROM THIS lineage of Christian Charity, thus deduced, many instructive lessons may be drawn. We may learn to distinguish the true and genuine, from pretended Charity: we have, hence, the surest way of discerning the spirits of other men, and of trying our own: we may correct some popular mistakes concerning the virtue of charity; and shall best comprehend the force and significancy of the several commendations, which the inspired writers, in many places, and in very general terms, bestow upon it.

Let me conclude this discourse with an instance of such instruction, respecting each of those heads, which the order of the text hath afforded the opportunity of considering.

And, _first_, from the necessity of a PURE HEART, we are instructed what to think of the benevolence of those men, who, though enslaved to their own selfish passions, are seldom the most backward to make large pretences to this virtue. But, be their pretences what they will, we know with certainty, that, if the heart be impure, its charity must be defective. It must, of course, be weak and partial; confined in its views, and languid in its operations; in a word, a faint and powerless quality, and not that generous, diffusive, universal principle, which alone deserves the exalted name of _Charity_.

We conclude, also, on the same grounds, that the hatred of vice is no breach of Christian charity. This charity is required to flow from a _pure heart_. But there is not in nature a stronger antipathy, than between _purity_, and _impurity_. So that we might as well expect light and darkness, heat and cold, to associate, as spotless virtue not to take offence at its opposite. I know, indeed, that the hatred due to the vices of men, is too easily transferred to their persons. But that charity, which is lineally descended from _faith_, will see to make a difference between them; and while it feels a quick resentment against _sin_, will conceive, nay will, by that very resentment, demonstrate, a tender concern for _sinners_, for whom Christ died.

_Secondly_, from the rank, which a GOOD CONSCIENCE holds in this family of love, we are admonished to avoid the mistake of those, who are inclined to rest in negative virtue, as the _end of the commandment_; and who account their charity full and complete, when it keeps them only from intending, or doing mischief to others. The Apostle, on the contrary, gives us to understand, that its descent is irregular, if it be not allied to active positive virtue; such as takes a pleasure in kind offices, is zealous to promote the welfare of others, and is fertile in _good works_. And this conclusion is the more necessary to be inforced upon us, since, in a world like this, where vice is sure to be active enough, the interests of society will not permit that Charity should be idle.

Lastly, from the lineal descent of Charity from FAITH, we must needs infer, that infidelity is not a matter of that indifference to social life, which many careless persons suppose it to be. It is the glory of our faith, that it terminates in charity. Every article of our creed is a fresh incitement to good works: in so much that, he who understands his religion most perfectly, and is most firmly persuaded of it, can scarce fail of approving himself the best man, as well as the best _Christian_. And this, again, is a consideration, which should affect all those who profess to have any concern for the interests of society and moral virtue.

Thus it appears, how instructive the doctrine of the text is, and how usefully, as well as elegantly, the Apostle sets before us, in this short genealogical table, the proper ancestry of Charity: in which _Faith_, as the ultimate progenitor, begets an _active virtue_; and that, impregnating the _heart_ with pure affections, produces at length this divine offspring of _Christian love_.

If we had found this mythological fiction in Xenophon or Plato, we should have much admired the instruction conveyed in it. Let it not abate our reverence for this moral lesson, that it comes from an Apostle of Jesus, and, if not dressed out in the charms of human eloquence, has all the authority of truth and divine inspiration to recommend it to us.

SERMON IX.

PREACHED NOVEMBER 9, 1766.

ROM. xii. 10.

—_In honour preferring one another._

It is much to the honour of the inspired writers, because it shews them to be no enthusiasts, that, with all their zeal for the revealed doctrines of the Gospel, they never forget or overlook the common duties of _humanity_; those duties, which Reason itself, a prior Revelation, had made known to the wiser part of mankind.

Nay, which is more remarkable, they sometimes condescend to enforce what are called the _lesser moralities_[71]; that is, those inferiour duties, which, not being of absolute necessity to the support of human society, are frequently overlooked by other moralists, and yet, as contributing very much to the comfortable enjoyment of it, are of _real_ moment, and deserve a suitable regard.

The text is an instance of this sort—_in honour preferring one another_—the NATURE, and GROUND, and right APPLICATION, of which duty, it is my present purpose to explain.

1. The general NATURE of this virtue consists in a disposition to express our good will to others by exteriour testimonies of respect; to consult the credit and honour of those we converse with, though at some expence of our own vanity and self-love. It implies a readiness to prevent them in the customary decencies of conversation; a facility to give way to their reasonable pretensions, and even to abate something of our own just rights. It requires us to suppress our petulant claims of superiority; to decline all frivolous contests and petty rivalries; to moderate our own demands of pre-eminence and priority; and, in a word, to please others, rather than ourselves.

It is an easy, social, conciliating virtue; a virtue made up of _humility_ and _benevolence_; the _former_, inclining us not to think more highly of ourselves than we ought; and the _latter_, to give our Christian brother an innocent satisfaction when we can.

And our obligation to the practice of this virtue is FOUNDED,

II. On the clearest reasons, taken both from the _nature of man_, and the _genius of our holy Religion_.

And, FIRST, from _the nature of man_.

Among the various principles, some of them, in appearance, discordant and contradictory, which constitute our common nature, one of the first to take our attention is, “A conscious sense of dignity;” an opinion of self-consequence, which mixes itself with all our thoughts and deliberations; prompting us to entertain lofty sentiments of our own worth, and aspiring to something like superiority and dominion over other men. This principle, which appears very early, and is strongest in the more generous dispositions, is highly necessary to a being formed for virtuous action; and naturally leads to the exertion of such qualities as are proper to benefit society, as well as to gain that ascendency in it, to which we pretend. It is the spring, indeed, of every commendable emulation; puts in act all our better and nobler faculties; and gives nerves to that labor and industry, by which every worthy accomplishment is attained.

But now this principle (so natural and useful), when it is not checked by others, but is suffered to take the lead and predominate on all occasions, undisciplined and uncontrolled, easily grows into a very offensive and hurtful quality: _offensive_, because it is now exerted to the humiliation of every other, who is actuated by the same principle; and _hurtful_, because, in this undue degree, it counteracts the very purpose, _the good of human society_, for which it was designed.

This quality we know by the name of PRIDE. The other moderate degree of self-esteem, which is allowable and virtuous, seems not (I suppose, from its rare appearance under that form) to have acquired in our language a distinct name.

To _Pride_, then, the pernicious and too common issue of self-love, it became necessary, that some other principle should be opposed. And such a principle, as is proper to correct the malignity of pride, we find in that _philanthropy_, which, by an instinct of the same common nature, disposeth us to consult the happiness, and to conciliate to ourselves the good will and affection, of mankind. This benevolent movement of the mind is, further, quickened by the mutual interest all men have in the exercise of it. For Pride is disarmed by submission; and, by receding from our own pretensions, we take the most likely way to moderate those of other men. Thus, the generous affections are kept in play; reciprocal civilities are maintained; and, by the habit of _each preferring other_, which prudence would advise, if instinct did not inspire, the peace of society is preserved, its joy encreased, and even our vanity, so far as it is a just and natural affection, gratified and indulged.

The reason of the Apostolic precept is, then, laid deep in the constitution of human nature; which is so wonderfully formed, that its _perfection_ requires the reconciliation of contrary qualities; and its _happiness_ results from making benevolence itself subservient to self-love.

2. If, from the philosophic consideration of man, we turn to the _genius of the Gospel_, we shall there find this conclusion of natural reason strengthened and confirmed by evangelical motives.

Benevolence, which, in the Gospel, takes the name of _Charity_, hath a larger range in this new dispensation, than in that of nature. The doctrine, and still more the example, of Jesus, extends the duty of humility and self-denial; requires us to make ampler sacrifices of self-love, and to give higher demonstrations of good-will to others, than mere reason could well demand or enforce. He, that was so far from _seeking his own_, that he _emptied himself of all his glory_, and stooped from heaven to earth, for the sake of man, hath a right to expect, from his followers, a more than ordinary effort to conform to so divine a precedent, a peculiar attention to the mutual benefits and concerns of each other. It is but little that we keep within some decent bounds our aspiring tempers and inclinations: we are now to _subject_ ourselves to our Christian brethren; to renounce even our innocent and lawful pretensions; and to forego every natural gratification, when the purposes of Christian Charity call us to this arduous task.

For the Gospel, it is to be observed, has taken us out of the loose and general relation of men, and has bound us together in the closer and more endearing tie of _Brethren_: it exalts the good-will, we were obliged to bear to the species, into the affection, which consanguinity inspires for the individuals of a private family. The Apostle, therefore, in the words preceding the text, bids us—_be kindly affectioned one to another with_ BROTHERLY LOVE—not, with the _love_, that unites one _man_ with another[72], which is the highest pretension of mere morality; but with the _love_, that knits together natural _brethren_[73], which is the proper boast and character of evangelical love. The words of the original have a peculiar energy[74]. They express that instinctive warmth of affection, which nature puts into our hearts for our nearest kindred, such as communicate with us by the participation of one common blood.

So that the same compliances, we should make with _their_ inclinations, the same preference, we should give to _their_ humour and interest above our own, should now be extended and exercised towards all Christians; and that principle of an ardent affection, by which we are led to make the most chearful condescensions to our _natural_ brother, should work in us the same generous consideration of our _spiritual_ brother, _for whom Christ died_.

Having explained the _nature_ of this duty, and the _grounds_, both in reason and religion, on which it rests, it now remains,

III. To provide for the RIGHT APPLICATION of it in practice. And here, in truth, the whole difficulty lies.

It is evident enough, I suppose, from what has been said, That the moral and Christian duty of _preferring one another in honour_, respects only social peace and charity, and terminates in the good and edification of our Christian brother. Its use is, to soften the minds of men, and to draw them from that savage rusticity, which engenders many vices, and discredits the virtues themselves. But when men had experienced the benefit of this complying temper, and further saw the ends, not of charity only, but of SELF-INTEREST, that might be answered by it; they considered no longer its just purpose and application, but stretched it to that officious sedulity, and extreme servility of adulation, which we too often observe and lament in polished life.

Hence, that infinite attention and consideration, which is so rigidly exacted, and so duly paid, in the commerce of the world: hence, that prostitution of mind, which leaves a man no will, no sentiment, no principle, no character; all which disappear under the uniform exhibition of good-manners: hence, those insidious arts, those studied disguises, those obsequious flatteries, nay, those affected freedoms, in a word, those multiplied and nicely-varied forms of insinuation and address; the direct aim of which may be to acquire the fame of politeness and good-breeding; but the certain effect, to corrupt every virtue, to sooth every vanity, and to inflame every vice, of the human heart.

These fatal mischiefs introduce themselves under the pretence and semblance of that _humanity_, which the text encourages and enjoins. But the _genuine_ virtue is easily distinguished from the _counterfeit_, and by the following plain _signs_.

1. TRUE POLITENESS is modest, unpretending, and generous. It appears as little as may be; and, when it does a courtesy, would willingly conceal it. It chuses silently to forego its own claims, not officiously to withdraw them. It engages a man to _prefer his neighbour to himself_, because he really esteems him; because he is tender of his reputation; because he thinks it more manly, more Christian, to descend a little himself, than to degrade another—It respects, in a word, the _credit and estimation_ of his neighbour.

The mimic of this amiable virtue, FALSE POLITENESS, is, on the other hand, ambitious, servile, timorous. It affects popularity; is solicitous to please, and to be taken notice of. The man of this character does not offer, but obtrude, his civilities: _because_ he would merit by this assiduity; because, in despair of winning regard by any worthier qualities, he would be sure to make the most of this; and, lastly, because of all things he would dread, by the omission of any punctilious observance, to give offence.—In a word, this sort of politeness respects, for its immediate object, the _favour and consideration_ of our neighbour.

2. Again: the man, who governs himself by the _spirit_ of the Apostle’s precept, expresses his _preference of another_ in such a way as is worthy of himself: in all innocent compliances, in all honest civilities, in all decent and manly condescensions.

On the contrary, the man of the world, who rests in the _letter_ of this command, is regardless of the _means_, by which he conducts himself. He respects neither his own dignity, nor that of human nature. Truth, reason, virtue, all are equally betrayed by this supple impostor. He assents to the errors, though the most pernicious; he applauds the follies, though the most ridiculous; he sooths the vices, though the most flagrant, of other men. He never contradicts, though in the softest form of insinuation; he never disapproves, though by a respectful silence; he never condemns, though it be only by a good example. In short, he is sollicitous for nothing, but by some studied devices to hide from others, and, if possible, to palliate to himself, the grossness of his illiberal adulation.

3. Lastly, we may be sure, that the _ultimate_ ENDS, for which these different _objects_ are pursued, and by so different _means_, must also lie wide of each other.

Accordingly, the truly polite man would, by all proper testimonies of respect, promote the credit and estimation of his neighbour, _because_ he sees, that, by this generous consideration of each other, the peace of the world is in a good degree preserved; _because_ he knows that these mutual attentions prevent animosities, soften the fierceness of men’s manners, and dispose them to all the offices of benevolence and charity; _because_, in a word, the interests of society are best served by this conduct; and _because_ he understands it to be his duty, _to love his neighbour_.

The falsely polite, on the contrary, are anxious by all means whatever, to procure the favour and consideration of those they converse with, _because_ they regard ultimately nothing more than their private interest; _because_ they perceive, that their own selfish designs are best carried on by such practices: in a word, _because_ they _love themselves_.

Thus we see, the genuine virtue consults the honour of others by worthy means, and for the noblest purpose; the counterfeit, sollicits their favour by dishonest compliances, and for the basest end.

By such evident marks are these two characters distinguished from each other! and so impossible it is, without a wilful perversion of our faculties, to mistake in the application of the Apostle’s precept!

It follows, you see, from what has been said, “that integrity of heart, as Solomon long since observed, is the best guide in morals[75].” We may impose upon others by a shew of civility; but the deception goes no farther. We cannot help knowing, in our own case, if we be ingenuous, when this virtue retains its nature, and when it degenerates into the vice that usurps its name. To conclude, an honest man runs no risk in being polite. Let us only _respect_ ourselves; and we shall rarely do amiss, when, as the Apostle advises, _in honour we prefer one another_.

SERMON X.

PREACHED MAY 6, 1770.

JOHN xiii. 8.

—_Jesus answered him, If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with
me._

To comprehend the full meaning of these words (which, as we shall see, are of no small importance) we must carefully attend to the circumstances of the history, which gave occasion to them.

The chapter begins thus—_Now before the feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour was come, that he should depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own, which were in the world, he loved them to the end._—

We are prepared by these words to expect something, on the part of our Lord, very expressive of his love for his Disciples.

The _season_, too, is critical, and must excite our attention: _it was before the feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour was come, that he should depart out of this world to the Father_; in other words, just before his crucifixion.

There is, indeed, some difficulty in fixing the precise time, when the transaction, now to be related, happened. I take no part in the disquisition, because it is not material to my purpose, and would divert me too much from it. It is enough to say, that it was at most, but the evening before the Paschal supper was celebrated, and therefore but two days before Jesus suffered.

The history proceeds—“_And supper being ended_ (or rather, as the text should have been translated, _the time of supper being come_[76]) _the Devil having now put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, to betray him, Jesus knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he was come from God and went to God; he riseth from supper, and laid aside his garments, and took a towel and girded himself. After that, he poureth water into a bason, and began to wash the Disciples feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded._”

Thus far all is clear. Jesus condescended to _wash the feet of his Disciples_; a ministry, very common in the East, and usually performed by servants, in discharge of their duty towards their masters, or, by inferiors, at least, in testimony of respect towards their superiors; as is abundantly plain from many instances.

This then was ONE end of this _washing_. Our Saviour meant it as a lesson of humility and condescension to his Disciples. But was it the ONLY, or the _chief_ end? That is the point we are now to consider.

Let it be remembered, then, that nothing was more familiar with the Jews, than to convey an information to others, especially if that information was of importance, by natural, rather than artificial signs, I mean by _deeds_, rather than _words_; as every one knows, who has but dipped into the history and writings of the Old and New Testament. The transaction before us, if understood _only_ as a lesson of humility, is a lesson conveyed to the Disciples in this form[77].

Now, this way of _information by action_ was occasionally made to serve TWO contrary purposes: either to give more force and emphasis to an instruction; or, to cloathe it with some degree of obscurity, or even ambiguity. For _actions_, speaking to the eye, when the purpose of them is by any means clearly ascertained, convey the most lively and expressive information: on the other hand, when it is not, they are somewhat obscure, one thing being to be collected by us from another: or the information is even ambiguous, as the action may signify more things than one.

Sometimes, the primary sense is declared, or easily understood; while, yet, a secondary sense, a less apparent one, but more momentous, is, also, intended.

This, upon inquiry, may be the case before us. Christ’s _washing the feet of his Disciples_ obviously conveys this instruction, which is asserted, too, in express words—that, _as he, their Lord and master, washed their feet, so they ought also to wash one another’s feet_[78]. But _another_, and far more important, instruction _may_ be conveyed in this action, though it be not so fully and explicitly declared. It _may_, I say, be conveyed: from laying all circumstances together, we shall be able to form a judgment, whether it were, indeed, in the Agent’s _intention_ to convey it.

_First_, as I said, the narrative of this transaction (which, take it as you will, was clearly designed to be an _information by action_) is prefaced in a very extraordinary manner. _Jesus, knowing that his hour was come—knowing too that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he was come from God, and went to God_, proceeded—to do what? Why, to give his disciples a lesson of humility and charity, in washing their feet. The Lesson, no doubt, was important; and becoming the character of their divine master. But does it rise up to those _ideas_ of importance, which we are prepared to entertain of an action, performed at such a time, and so awfully introduced? _His hour was come—the Father had given all things into his hands—he came from God, and was now going to God._ All this announces something beyond and above a common lecture of morality; something, which might be a suitable close to the instructions of such a teacher.

Let us see, _next_, how the action is received. One of the disciples, Peter, surprized at his Lord’s condescension, says very naturally, _Lord, dost thou wash my feet?_ Jesus, to remove his scruples, replies, _What I do, thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter_. The words are ambiguous, and may mean, “Thou shalt know, _immediately_, from the explication I am about to give of this action;” or, “thou shalt know _hereafter_, in due time, and by other means,” what the purport of it is. Still Peter, not satisfied with this answer, but confounded at the apparent indignity of Christ’s condescension, replies resolutely, _Thou shalt never wash my feet_. This resistance was to be overcome, that the _information_, whatever it was, might take place, by the performance of that which was the vehicle of it. Jesus answers, therefore, more directly and solemnly, IF I WASH THEE NOT, THOU HAST NO PART WITH ME—Which words, whether understood by Peter or not, were clearly seen to have _some_ meaning of the last concern to him; and, struck with this apprehension, he submits.

But what! taking these oracular words, in the sense only in which Jesus thought fit to explain them, we hardly see the force and propriety of them. For, had Peter _no part with Jesus_, that is, was he incapable of receiving any benefit from him, unless he had this ceremony of washing, performed upon him, when that ceremony had no further use or meaning, than to convey a moral lesson? If he had not learnt _this_ lesson from Christ, he might have learnt many _others_: or, he might have learnt _this_, some other way: and taking it in either light, he might still be said to _have some part_ with Jesus, though he had not been _washed_ by him.

The true import, then, of these enigmatic words, and of the whole transaction which is here recorded, begins to appear, and is further opened by the sequel of Peter’s conversation with Jesus. For, understanding, that this _ablution_ was, some way so necessary to him, Peter subjoins, _Not my feet only, but also my hands and my head_. Jesus saith to him, _He that is washed, needeth not, save to wash his feet, and is clean every whit; and ye are clean, but not all; for he knew who should betray him: therefore said he, Ye are not all clean_.

It was, we see, the uncleanness of sin, or the _filth of an evil conscience_, which was to be taken away by this washing. More than a single moral lesson, how excellent soever, was, therefore, couched in this act; indeed, the necessity and efficacy of CERTAIN MEANS, by which mankind were, in general, to be cleansed from sin, was that which was ultimately and mainly signified by it. He that was _thus washed, was clean every whit_; and the _information_ of this benefit being the end of the washing, it was enough if that was conveyed by washing any one part.

You see at length to what all this tends. Jesus, knowing the secret treachery of Judas, and, by the divine spirit which was in him, foreseeing the destined effect of that treachery; knowing, that he was now, forthwith, to suffer death upon the cross, the purpose, for which he came from God, and for the execution of which he only waited before he returned to him; considering, withal, the immense benefit, which was to accrue to mankind from his voluntary devotion of himself to this death, and that the eternal Father, for the sake of it, _had given all things into his hands_, had given him the power to redeem all the sons of Adam from the vassalage of sin and death, by virtue of that BLOOD which he was now to pour out upon the cross, as a propitiation for them; Jesus, I say, foreseeing and considering all this, chose this critical season, when _his hour was now come_, to signify by the ceremony of washing his disciples feet[79], the efficacy and value of his own precious blood, by which alone they, and all mankind, were to have all their sins purged and washed away for ever.

This was apparently the momentous instruction, which it was our Lord’s purpose to convey in this transaction. He would, _first_, shew that we were to be washed in his blood; and _then_, subordinately, that we were to follow his example in a readiness _to do as he had done_; that is, not only to _wash_ each other, but, emblematically still, to lay down our lives and pour out our blood, if need be, for the sake of the brethren. All circumstances concur to assure us, that such was the real secret intent of this mysterious washing; and thus, at length, we understand the full purport of those words—_If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me_[80].

If it be still said, that Jesus explains his own purpose differently, it is enough to reply, that these emblematic actions were generally significative of more things, than one; and that the manner of Jesus was, on other occasions, to enforce that instruction, which was not the primary one in his intention[81]: the reason of which conduct was founded in this rule, so constantly observed by him, of conveying information to his disciples, only, _as they were able to bear it_[82]. In a word, he gave them many instructions, and _this_, among the rest, darkly and imperfectly, because they could not then bear a stronger light; but yet with such clearness as might, afterwards, let them into his purpose; leaving it to the Holy Ghost (whose peculiar province it was) to illuminate their minds, in due time; to reveal all that had been obscurely intimated; and to open the full meaning of his discourses and actions, as well as to _bring them all to their remembrance_[83].

From this memorable part of the Gospel-history, thus opened and explained, we may draw some important conclusions.

1. FIRST, we learn, if the comment here given be a just one, That _the blood of Christ_ (so an Apostle hath expressed himself) _cleanseth us from all sin_[84]: I mean, that the death of Christ was a true, proper, and real propitiation for our sins; and not a mere figure, or tropical form of speech; as too many, who call themselves Christians, conceive of it. For the pertinence and propriety of the representative action, performed by our Lord, is founded in this supposition, “That the blood of Christ was necessary to our purification, and that, but for our being _washed in his blood_[85], we should be yet in our sins.” Jesus himself, in explaining this transaction, so far as he thought fit to explain it, confines us to this idea. For in this sense, only, is it true—_that we, who are washed, are clean every whit_—and, that _unless we are washed by Christ, we have no part with him_.

Such, then, is the information given us in this ceremony of _washing the disciples feet_; and not in this, only. For, besides the present emblematic act, performed by our Lord, for the special benefit of his disciples, the TWO Sacraments, it is to be observed, were purposely instituted, for the general use of his church, to hold forth to us an image of his _efficacious blood_, poured out for us: the sacrament of BAPTISM, by the reference it had (like this act) to the typical _washings_ of the Law; and the sacrament of the LORD’S SUPPER, as referring, in like manner, to the typical _sacrifices_ of that dispensation. Of such moment, in the view of our Lord himself, was this doctrine of _propitiation_! And so careful, or rather anxious, was he, that this consolatory idea of _redemption through his_ BLOOD[86] (suggested in so many ways, and in so striking a manner) should be always present to us!

Nor were his Apostles (let me, further, remark) less intent in prosecuting this design. For they insist every-where, and with a singular emphasis—that _Christ, our passover, is sacrificed for us_[87]—and that _we are_ WASHED, _and sanctified, and saved, by the sprinkling of the blood of Jesus_[88].

Go now, then, and say, that the _blood_ of Christ is only a metaphor, and means no more in the mouth of a Christian, than it might be supposed to do in that of an honest heathen, who should say, That he had been _saved_, or benefited in a moral way, by the _blood_, that is, the exemplary death, of Socrates!—When we speak of its _washing_ away sin, it is true, we use the term _washing_ metaphorically (for _sin_ is not literally washed): but the scriptures are unintelligible, and language itself has no meaning, if _the blood of the lamb slain_ had not a true, direct, and proper efficacy (considered in the literal sense of _blood_) in freeing us from the _guilt_ of sin, or, in other words, from the _punishment_ of it.

2. A SECOND conclusion may be drawn, more particularly, from the words of the text—_if I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me_. For, if these words mean, as I have endeavoured to shew, and as, I think, they must mean, that we are redeemed only by the _blood_ of Christ; and if, as the context seems to speak, it is in our power to forfeit this benefit, by refusing to be _washed_ by his blood, that is, to accept the deliverance, offered to us, _through faith in his blood_[89]: it follows, that there is something very alarming in the condition of those persons, who hold out against all the calls of Grace, and obstinately persist in a state of infidelity. In vain have they recourse to natural religion, or to any other supposed means of purification and salvation. In vain do they trust even to the moral part of the Gospel, while they reject or disbelieve the rest. They must be washed by _Christ_, if they desire _to have any part with him_; they must place their entire hope and confidence in the _blood_ of the covenant, who would share in the blessings of it.

Nay, more than this: the Redeemer is _outraged_ by this refusal to comply with the gracious terms of his salvation. And, though some may make slight of _having no part with Christ_, it may concern them to reflect, what it is to _have a portion with unbelievers_[90].

3. LASTLY, and above all, I conclude, that they, who are _washed_, and, in consequence of that washing, trust to _have a part with Christ_, as they can never be enough thankful for the inestimable benefit, they have received, so they can never be enough careful to retain, and to improve it. If we, who have once embraced the faith, revolt from it; or, while we make a shew of professing the faith, pollute ourselves again with those sins, from which we have been cleansed; nay, if we do not strive to purify our hearts and minds still more and more by the continual efficacy of a lively faith in Jesus; if, in any of these ways, we be in the number of those, _who draw back unto perdition_, what further sacrifice remains for us, or what hope have we in that, which has been already offered?

Judas himself, be it remembered, was _washed_ among the other Disciples; yet he was not _clean_, for all that, nor had he _any part_ with Jesus. What can this mean, but that something is to be done, on _our_ part, when the Redeemer has done _his_? and that the permanent effect of this _washing_, as to any particular person, depends on his care to keep those _robes white_, which have been _washed in the blood of the lamb_[91]?

The account, and the conclusion, of the whole matter, is plainly this—_If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth: but, if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, then have we fellowship with him, and_ HIS BLOOD CLEANSETH US FROM ALL SIN[92].

SERMON XI.

PREACHED JUNE 20, 1773.

MARK ix. 49.

_For every one shall be salted with fire, and every sacrifice shall
be salted with salt._

This is generally esteemed one of the most difficult passages in the four Gospels. I confess, I take no pleasure in commenting on such passages, especially in this place; because the comment only serves, for the most part, to gratify a learned curiosity, and is, otherwise, of small use.

But, when a difficult text of Scripture can be explained, and the sense, arising out of the explanation, is edifying and important, then it falls properly within our province to exert our best pains upon it.

This I take to be the case of the difficulty before us, which therefore I shall beg leave to make the subject of the present discourse.

There are TWO very different interpretations, of which the words are capable: and they shall both of them be laid before you, that ye may adopt either as ye think fit; or even reject them both, if ye do not find them sufficiently supported.

To enable you to go along with me in what follows, and to judge of either interpretation, whether it be reasonable or not, it is necessary to call your attention to the preceding verses of this chapter, to which the text refers, and by which it is introduced.

Our blessed Lord (for the words, I am about to explain, are _his_) had been discoursing to his Disciples on _offences_, or _scandals_; that is, such instances of ill-conduct, such indulgences of any favourite and vicious inclination, as tended to obstruct the progress of the Gospel, and were likely to prevent either themselves, or others, from embracing, or holding fast, the faith. Such offences, it was foreseen, would come: _but woe to that man_ (as we read in the parallel passage of St. Matthew’s Gospel) _by whom the offence cometh_[93].

And, to give the greater effect to this salutary denunciation, our Saviour proceeds, in figurative, indeed, but very intelligible terms, to enforce the necessity of being on our guard against such _offences_, what pain soever it might cost us to subdue those passions, from which they were ready to spring. No virtue of self-denial was too great to be attempted in such a cause. A _hand_, a _foot_, an _eye_, were to be _cut off_, or _plucked out_; that is, inclinations, as necessary and as dear to us, as those members of the body, were to be suppressed or rejected by us, rather than the _woe_, denounced against the indulgence of them, be incurred. This woe is, that the offenders should be cast into hell-fire, _where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched_: and it is subjoined _three times_, in the same awful words, to so many instances of supposed criminal indulgence, in the case alledged; or rather, to one and the _same_ species of ill-conduct, differently modified, and, to make the greater impression upon us, represented under three distinct images. After the last repetition of it, the text immediately follows—_for every one shall be salted with fire, and every sacrifice shall be salted with salt_.

I. Now, taken in this connexion, the words _may_ clearly, and, according to our ideas, of interpretation, most naturally _do_, admit this sense; that the offenders, spoken of, shall be preserved entire to suffer the punishment threatened, though it might seem that they would, in no long time, be totally destroyed by it: as if our Lord had expressed himself thus—“I have repeated this woe three times, to shew you the degree and duration of it, as well as the certainty of its execution; _the worm shall not die_, that is, the sense of suffering shall continue, even in circumstances, which may seem proper and likely to put an end to it: for such, as are worthy to be cast into this fire, shall be _salted_, or preserved from wasting (salt being the known emblem of _incorruption_, and thence of _perpetuity_) by the very fire itself. And [you may easily conceive how this shall be, _for_] _every sacrifice_, the flesh of every animal to be offered up to God in your Jewish sacrifices, is kept sound and fit for use by being (as the Law directs in that case) _salted with salt_. Just so, the _fire itself_ shall act on these victims of the divine justice: like _salt_, sprinkled on your legal victims, it shall preserve these offenders entire, and in a perpetual capacity of subsisting to that use, to which they are destined.”

Now, if such be the sense of the words, they contain the fullest and most decisive proof of that tremendous doctrine, _the eternity of future punishments_, which is any where to be met with in Scripture. For the words, being given as a reason and explanation of the doctrine, are not susceptible of any vague interpretation, like the words _eternal_ or _everlasting_, in which it is usually expressed; but must necessarily be understood, as implying and affirming the literal truth of the thing, for which they would account. And, this being supposed, you see the use, the unspeakable importance, of this text, as addressed to all believers in Jesus. But,

II. There is another sense, of which the text is capable: and, if you think it not allowable to deduce a conclusion of such dreadful import from words of an ambiguous signification, you will incline perhaps (as it is natural for us to do) to this more favourable interpretation, which I am going to propose.

I observed, that the text, as read in connexion with the preceding verse, is most naturally, according to our ideas of interpretation, to be understood, as I have already explained it. But, what is the most _natural_, according to our modern rules and principles of construction, is not always the _true_, sense of passages in ancient oriental writers (who did not affect our accuracy of connexion), and particularly in the writers of the New Testament.

To give a remarkable instance in a discourse of our Lord himself. He had prescribed to his disciples that form of prayer, which we know by the name of the _Lord’s prayer_, consisting of several articles; the last of which is—_for thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory for ever_[94]. Now, to this concluding sentence of his prayer he immediately subjoins these words—FOR _if we forgive men their trespasses, your Heavenly Father will also forgive you_. But, from the illative particle, _for_, according to our notions of exact composition, was to be expected a reason, or illustration, of the _immediately foregoing_ clause, the _doxology_, which shuts up this prayer: whereas, the words, which that particle introduces, have respect to another and _remote_ clause in the same prayer, namely, _forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors_[95], and express the ground and reason, only, of that petition.

In like manner, the illation expressed in the text—FOR _every one shall be salted with fire, and every sacrifice shall be salted with salt_—may not be intended to respect the preceding words—_where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched_—but something else, which had been advanced in our Lord’s discourse, though at some distance from the text; and possibly, the general scope or _subject_ of it. Consider, then, what that subject is. It is necessary, our Lord tells his disciples, for such as would escape the woes, threatened, and approve themselves faithful followers of him, to subdue or renounce their most favourite inclinations, by which they might be, at any time, tempted to _offend_, though the pain of this self-denial should be ever so grievous to them.

To reconcile their minds to this harsh doctrine, he may then be supposed to resume that topic, and to _justify_ the advice, which, with so much apparent severity, he had given them. And then we may conceive him to speak to this effect:

“I have said, you must not regard the _uneasiness_, which the conduct, I require of you, will probably occasion. For _every one_, that is, every true Christian, _every one_ that is consecrated to my service, and would escape the punishment by _fire_, in the world to come, _shall be salted with fire_, in the present world; that is, shall be tried with sufferings of one kind or other, can only expect to be continued in a sound and uncorrupt state, by _afflictions_; which must search, cleanse, and purify your lives and minds, just as _fire_ does those bodies, which it refines, by consuming all the dross and refuse, contained in them. The process may be violent, but the end is most desirable, and even necessary. _And_, that it is so, ye may discern from the wisdom of your own Law, which requires that _every sacrifice_, fit to be offered up to God in the temple-service, _shall be salted with salt_; that is, preserved from putrefaction, and even all approaches to it, by the application of that useful, though corroding substance. Now, the _fire_ of affliction shall be to your moral natures, what _salt_ is to the animal. It may agitate and torment your minds, but it shall eat all the principles of corruption out of them, and so keep them clean and untainted; as is fit, considering the heavenly use that is to be made of them, it being your duty, and even interest, to present them, as _a sacrifice acceptable and well pleasing to God_[96].”