Sermon 20. The Ventures of Faith
"They say unto Him, We are able." Matt. xx. 22.
{295} THESE words of the holy Apostles James and John were in reply to a
very solemn question addressed to them by their Divine Master. They
coveted, with a noble ambition, though as yet unpractised in the
highest wisdom, untaught in the holiest truth,—they coveted to sit
beside Him on His Throne of Glory. They would be content with nothing
short of that special gift which He had come to grant to His elect,
which He shortly after died to purchase for them, and which He offers
to us. They ask the gift of eternal life; and He in answer told them,
not that they should have it (though for them it was really reserved),
but He reminded them what they must venture for it; "Are
ye able to drink of the cup that I shall drink of and to be baptized
with the baptism that I am baptized with? They say unto Him, We are
able." Here then a great lesson is impressed upon us, that our
duty as Christians lies in {296} this, in making ventures for eternal life
without the absolute certainty of success.
Success and reward everlasting they will have, who persevere unto
the end. Doubt we cannot, that the ventures of all Christ's servants
must be returned to them at the Last Day with abundant increase. This
is a true saying,—He returns far more than we lend to Him, and
without fail. But I am speaking of individuals, of ourselves one by
one. No one among us knows for certain that he himself will persevere;
yet every one among us, to give himself even a chance of success at
all, must make a venture. As regards individuals, then, it is quite
true, that all of us must for certain make ventures for heaven, yet
without the certainty of success through them. This, indeed, is the
very meaning of the word "venture;" for that is a strange
venture which has nothing in it of fear, risk, danger, anxiety,
uncertainty. Yes; so it certainly is; and in this consists the
excellence and nobleness of faith; this is the very reason why faith
is singled out from other graces, and honoured as the especial means
of our justification, because its presence implies that we have the
heart to make a venture.
St. Paul sufficiently sets this before us in the eleventh chapter
of his Epistle to the Hebrews, which opens with a definition of faith,
and after that, gives us examples of it, as if to guard against any
possibility of mistake. After quoting the text, "the just shall
live by faith," and thereby showing clearly that he is speaking
of what he treats in his Epistle to the Romans as justifying
faith, he continues, "Now faith is the substance," that is,
the {297} realizing, "of things hoped for, the evidence," that is,
the ground of proof, "of things not seen." It is in its very
essence the making present what is unseen; the acting upon the mere
prospect of it, as if it really were possessed; the venturing upon it,
the staking present ease, happiness, or other good, upon the chance of
the future. And hence in another epistle he says pointedly, "If
in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most
miserable." [1 Cor. xv. 19.] If the dead are not raised, we have
indeed made a most signal miscalculation in the choice of life, and
are altogether at fault. And what is true of the main doctrine itself,
is true also of our individual interest in it. This he shows us in his
Epistle to the Hebrews, by the instance of the Ancient Saints, who
thus risked their present happiness on the chance of future. Abraham
"went out, not knowing whither he went." He and the rest
died "not having received the promises, but having seen them afar
off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that
they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth." Such was the
faith of the Patriarchs: and in the text the youthful Apostles, with
an untaught but generous simplicity, lay claim to the same. Little as
they knew what they said in its fulness, yet their words were any how
expressive of their hidden hearts, prophetic of their future conduct.
They say unto Him, "We are able." They pledge themselves as
if unawares, and are caught by One mightier than they, and, as it
were, craftily made captive. But, in truth, their unsuspicious pledge
was, after all, heartily made, though they knew not what they
promised; and {298} so was accepted. "Are ye able to drink of My cup,
and be baptized with My baptism? They say unto Him, We are able."
He in answer, without promising them heaven, graciously said, "Ye
shall drink indeed of My cup, and be baptized with the baptism
that I am baptized with."
Our Lord appears to act after the same manner towards St. Peter: He
accepted his office of service, yet warned him how little he himself
understood it. The zealous Apostle wished to follow his Lord at once:
but He answered, "Whither I go thou canst not follow Me now, but
thou shalt follow me afterwards." [John xiii. 36.] At another
time, He claimed the promise already made to Him; He said,
"Follow thou Me;" and at the same time explained it,
"Verily, verily, I say unto thee, when thou wast young, thou
girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest: but when thou
shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall
gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not." [John xxi.
18-22.]
Such were the ventures made in faith, and in uncertainty, by
Apostles. Our Saviour, in a passage of St. Luke's Gospel, binds upon
us all the necessity of deliberately doing the like,—"Which of
you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first and counteth
the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? Lest haply, after
he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that
behold it, begin to mock him, saying, This man began to build, and is
not able to finish." And then He presently adds, "So
likewise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath,
he cannot be My {299} disciple:" [Luke xiv. 28-33.] thus warning us of
the full sacrifice we must make. We give up our all to Him; and He is
to claim this or that, or grant us somewhat of it for a season,
according to His good pleasure. On the other hand, the case of the
rich young man, who went away sorrowful, when our Lord bade him give
up his all and follow Him, is an instance of one who had not
faith to make the venture of this world for the next, upon His word.
If then faith be the essence of a Christian life, and if it be what
I have now described, it follows that our duty lies in risking upon
Christ's word what we have, for what we have not; and doing so in a
noble, generous way, not indeed rashly or lightly, still without
knowing accurately what we are doing, not knowing either what we give
up, nor again what we shall gain; uncertain about our reward,
uncertain about our extent of sacrifice, in all respects leaning,
waiting upon Him, trusting in Him to fulfil His promise, trusting in
Him to enable us to fulfil our own vows, and so in all respects
proceeding without carefulness or anxiety about the future.
Now I dare say that what I have said as yet seems plain and
unexceptionable to most of those who hear me; yet surely, when I
proceed to draw the practical inference which immediately follows,
there are those who in their secret hearts, if not in open avowal,
will draw back. Men allow us Ministers of Christ to proceed in our
preaching, while we confine ourselves to general truths, until they
see that they themselves are implicated in them, and have to act upon
them; and then they suddenly come to a stand; they collect themselves
and {300} draw back, and say, "They do not see this—or do not
admit that"—and though they are quite unable to say why
that should not follow from what they already allow, which we show must
follow, still they persist in saying, that they do not see that it
does follow; and they look about for excuses, and they say we carry
things too far, and that we are extravagant, and that we ought to
limit and modify what we say, that we do not take into account times,
and seasons, and the like. This is what they pretend; and well has it
been said, "where there is a will there is a way;" for there
is no truth, however overpoweringly clear, but men may escape from it
by shutting their eyes; there is no duty, however urgent, but they may
find ten thousand good reasons against it, in their own case. And they
are sure to say we carry things too far, when we carry them home to
themselves.
This sad infirmity of men, called Christians, is exemplified in the
subject immediately before us. Who does not at once admit that faith
consists in venturing on Christ's word without seeing? Yet in spite of
this, may it not be seriously questioned, whether men in general, even
those of the better sort, venture any thing upon His truth at all?
Consider for an instant. Let every one who hears me ask himself the
question, what stake has he in the truth of Christ's promise?
How would he be a whit the worse off, supposing (which is impossible),
but, supposing it to fail? We know what it is to have a stake in any
venture of this world. We venture our property in plans which promise
a return; in plans which we trust, which {301} we have faith in. What have
we ventured for Christ? What have we given to Him on a belief of His
promise? The Apostle said, that he and his brethren would be of all
men most miserable, if the dead were not raised. Can we in any degree
apply this to ourselves? We think, perhaps, at present, we have some
hope of heaven; well, this we should lose of course; but after all,
how should we be worse off as to our present condition? A trader, who
has embarked some property in a speculation which fails, not only
loses his prospect of gain, but somewhat of his own, which he ventured
with the hope of the gain. This is the question, What have we
ventured? I really fear, when we come to examine, it will be found
that there is nothing we resolve, nothing we do, nothing we do not do,
nothing we avoid, nothing we choose, nothing we give up, nothing we
pursue, which we should not resolve, and do, and not do, and avoid,
and choose, and give up, and pursue, if Christ had not died, and
heaven were not promised us. I really fear that most men called
Christians, whatever they may profess, whatever they may think they
feel, whatever warmth and illumination and love they may claim as
their own, yet would go on almost as they do, neither much better nor
much worse, if they believed Christianity to be a fable. When young,
they indulge their lusts, or at least pursue the world's vanities; as
time goes on, they get into a fair way of business, or other mode of
making money; then they marry and settle; and their interest
coinciding with their duty, they seem to be, and think themselves,
respectable and religious men; they grow attached to things as they
are; they begin to have a zeal {302} against vice and error; and they follow
after peace with all men. Such conduct indeed, as far as it goes, is
right and praiseworthy. Only I say, it has not necessarily any thing
to do with religion at all; there is nothing in it which is any proof
of the presence of religious principle in those who adopt it; there is
nothing they would not do still, though they had nothing to gain from
it, except what they gain from it now: they do gain something now,
they do gratify their present wishes, they are quiet and orderly,
because it is their interest and taste to be so; but they venture
nothing, they risk, they sacrifice, they abandon nothing on the faith
of Christ's word.
For instance: St. Barnabas had a property in Cyprus; he gave it up
for the poor of Christ. Here is an intelligible sacrifice. He did
something he would not have done, unless the Gospel were true. It is
plain, if the Gospel turned out a fable (which God forbid), but if so,
he would have taken his line most unskilfully; he would be in a great
mistake, and would have suffered a loss. He would be like a merchant
whose vessels were wrecked, or whose correspondents had failed. Man
has confidence in man, he trusts to the credit of his neighbour; but
Christians do not risk largely upon their Saviour's word; and this is
the one thing they have to do. Christ tells us Himself, "Make to
yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness; that, when ye
fail, they may receive you into everlasting habitations;" [Luke
xvi. 9.] i.e. buy an interest in the next world with that
wealth which this world uses unrighteously; feed the hungry, clothe
the naked, relieve the sick, and it shall turn to "bags that wax
not {303} old, a treasure in the heavens that faileth not." [Luke xii.
33.] Thus almsdeeds, I say, are an intelligible venture and an
evidence of faith.
So again the man who, when his prospects in the world are good,
gives up the promise of wealth or of eminence, in order to be nearer
Christ, to have a place in His temple, to have more opportunity for
prayer and praise, he makes a sacrifice.
Or he who, from a noble striving after perfection, puts off the
desire of worldly comforts, and is, like Daniel or St. Paul, in much
labour and business, yet with a solitary heart, he too ventures
something upon the certainty of the world to come.
Or he who, after falling into sin, repents in deed as well as in
word; puts some yoke upon his shoulder; subjects himself to
punishment; is severe upon his flesh; denies himself innocent
pleasures; or puts himself to public shame,—he too shows that his
faith is the realizing of things hoped for, the warrant of things not
seen.
Or again: he who only gets himself to pray against those things
which the many seek after, and to embrace what the heart naturally
shrinks from; he who, when God's will seems to tend towards worldly
ill, while he deprecates it, yet prevails on himself to say heartily,
"Thy will be done;" he, even, is not without his sacrifice.
Or he who, being in prospect of wealth, honestly prays God that he may
never be rich; or he who is in prospect of station, and earnestly
prays that he may never have it; or he who has friends or kindred, and
{304} acquiesces with an entire heart in their removal while it is yet
doubtful, who can say, "Take them away, if it be Thy will, to
Thee I give them up, to Thee I commit them," who is willing to be
taken at his word; he too risks somewhat, and is accepted.
Such a one is taken at his word, while he understands not, perhaps,
what he says; but he is accepted, as meaning somewhat, and risking
much. Generous hearts, like James and John, or Peter, often speak
largely and confidently beforehand of what they will do for Christ,
not insincerely, yet ignorantly; and for their sincerity's sake they
are taken at their word as a reward, though they have yet to learn how
serious that word is. "They say unto Him, We are able;"—and
the vow is recorded in heaven. This is the case of all of us at many
seasons. First, at Confirmation; when we promise what was promised for
us at Baptism, yet without being able to understand how much we
promise, but rather trusting to God gradually to reveal it, and to
give us strength according to our day. So again they who enter Holy
Orders promise they know not what, engage themselves they know not how
deeply, debar themselves of the world's ways they know not how
intimately, find perchance they must cut off from them the right hand,
sacrifice the desire of their eyes and the stirring of their hearts at
the foot of the Cross, while they thought, in their simplicity, they
were but choosing the quiet easy life of "plain men dwelling in
tents." And so again, in various ways, the circumstances of the
times cause men at certain seasons to take this path or that, for
religion's sake. They know not whither they are being carried; they
see not the {305} end of their course; they know no more than this, that it
is right to do what they are now doing; and they hear a whisper within
them, which assures them, as it did the two holy brothers, that
whatever their present conduct involves in time to come, they shall,
through God's grace, be equal to it. Those blessed Apostles said,
"We are able;" and in truth they were enabled to do and
suffer as they had said. St. James was given strength to be steadfast
unto death, the death of martyrdom; being slain with the sword in
Jerusalem. St. John, his brother, had still more to bear, dying last
of the Apostles, as St. James first. He had to hear bereavement,
first, of his brother, then of the other Apostles. He had to bear a
length of years in loneliness, exile, and weakness. He had to
experience the dreariness of being solitary, when those whom he loved
had been summoned away. He had to live in his own thoughts, without
familiar friend, with those only about him who belonged to a younger
generation. Of him were demanded by his gracious Lord, as pledges of
his faith, all his eye loved and his heart held converse with. He was
as a man moving his goods into a far country, who at intervals and by
portions sends them before him, till his present abode is well-nigh
unfurnished. He sent forward his friends on their journey, while he
stayed himself behind, that there might be those in heaven to have
thoughts of him, to look out for him, and receive him when his Lord
should call. He sent before him, also, other still more voluntary
pledges and ventures of his faith,—a self-denying walk, a zealous
maintenance of the truth, fasting and prayers, labours of love, a
virgin life, buffetings {306} from the heathen, persecution, and banishment.
Well might so great a Saint say, at the end of his days "Come,
Lord Jesus!" as those who are weary of the night, and wait for
the morning. All his thoughts, all his contemplations, desires, and
hopes, were stored in the invisible world; and death, when it came,
brought back to him the sight of what he had worshipped, what he had
loved, what he had held intercourse with, in years long past away.
Then, when again brought into the presence of what he had lost, how
would remembrance revive, and familiar thoughts long buried come to
life! Who shall dare to describe the blessedness of those who find all
their pledges safe returned to them, all their ventures abundantly and
beyond measure satisfied?
Alas! that we, my brethren, have not more of this high and
unearthly spirit! How is it that we are so contented with things as
they are,—that we are so willing to be let alone, and to enjoy this
life,—that we make such excuses, if any one presses on us the
necessity of something higher, the duty of bearing the Cross, if we
would earn the Crown, of the Lord Jesus Christ?
I repeat it; what are our ventures and risks upon the truth of His
word? for He says expressly, "Every one that hath forsaken
houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or
children, or lands, for My Name's sake, shall receive an hundred-fold,
and shall inherit everlasting life. But many that are first shall be
last; and the last shall be first." [Matt. xix. 29, 30.]
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