CRITICAL AND EXEGETICAL NOTES

2 Peter 1:5. Beside this.—“Yea, and for this very cause,” “on this very account.” Diligence.—Or earnestness; putting heart into effort. Add.—Better as R.V., “in your faith supply.” Adding to is not the idea of the Greek. “Each element of the Christian life is to be as an instrument by which that which follows is wrought out.” Knowledge.—Here, “moral discernment.”

2 Peter 1:6. Temperance.—General self-management. Patience.—As self-control in temper. Godliness.—The right tone on all conduct; or it may mean, as it certainly includes, right disposition towards God.

2 Peter 1:7. Charity.—τὴν�, general and universal love for men as men.

2 Peter 1:8. Barren, etc.—ἀργοὺς, idle, not using effort; ἀκάρπους, not attaining results. Knowledge.—See 2 Peter 1:2.

2 Peter 1:9. Blind.—Self-blinded, closing his eyes to the light. μυωπάζων, contracting the eyelids, as one who cannot see clearly. Was purged.—And therefore stands pledged to the new life.

2 Peter 1:10. Never fall.—Better, “stumble.” A step short of falling. “The man who has acquired these graces has his path freed from many stumbling-blocks, and his vision cleared to see and avoid the rest.”

2 Peter 1:11. Ends the first main section of the epistle.

MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.— 2 Peter 1:5

2 Peter 1:5. The Proper Response to Christian Privilege.—The apostle has been reminding his readers of the Christian promises and privileges. Such reminders are always the basis on which is laid some earnest call to duty. In 2 Peter 1:5, the apostle says, “beside this”; or better, “on this very account.” R.V. “Yea, and for this very cause.” Because of the promises and privileges, you should give diligent attention to making a worthy response in spiritual growth. Growth in Christian life is the prominent point of the teaching of this epistle. Perhaps St. Peter felt that his Christian life had witnessed a very remarkable growth, and that in this he was an ensample to the believers. He seems to sum up what he would most anxiously impress in the closing words of this epistle: “But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.” The R.V. helps to the proper understanding of this passage. It is not “Add to your faith virtue,” but “With your faith supply virtue.” Do not be content with any one Christian grace, and do not exaggerate the importance of any one, but try to nourish harmoniously the complete, all-round Christian life and character. It is as if St. Peter had said, “You will surely find that each grace gained helps you to gain the other graces; and that every new grace, or improved grace, improves, and helps to perfection the other graces.” The proper response for us to make to promise, and privilege, and indeed to our own pledge, is precisely this all-round and harmonious growth in Christian graces. What things are necessary, then, to the proper making up of the Christian character, and the Christian life?

1. Faith is pre-supposed; both as the belief which is the beginning of right relations with Christ, and as the daily faith or trust, which is very breath of the Christian life. A Christian only lives so long as he keeps his trust.

2. Virtue. Not purity, or chastity, which is a later association with the term. In Pagan ages virtue meant valour, courage; and this, filled with the Christian spirit, is the firmness, conscious strength, and good cheer, that come of firm, established Christian principle. It is really moral stability which brings a sense of sufficiency for every good work. This virtue led St. Paul to say, “I can do all things in Him who strengtheneth me.”

3. Knowledge. Apostles never exaggerate, as we are apt to do, the importance of mere head-knowledge. But it is quite as true that they urge with much earnestness the intelligent apprehension of revealed truth. The more practical form of knowledge is, however, most prominent in their minds; it is the “wisdom” of the Book of Proverbs, which means “moral discernment,” cultured skill in the actual ordering and ruling of our lives. Knowing how to behave ourselves in the house of God, and everywhere else. Not mere head-knowledge, but what may properly be called life-knowledge, the basis of good self-ruling.

4. Temperance. Not mere abstention from anything, drink or lust; but wise management of self, so that there never shall be any excess. The power to strike the “happy mean” always. The skill that keeps from any form of excitement that tends to put us off our balance, and make us lose our self-control. Abstinence may be the best thing under given circumstances, but it is not the absolutely best thing. To use without abusing is altogether nobler than not to use at all. The saintly man is not the man who gets away from the world, but the man who, staying in the world, is not of it; never lets it master him.

5. Patience. Christian patience is waiting, but it is much more than waiting; it is endurance, which means a waiting that involves strain and trial. It is bearing a burden while you wait. It is that spirit which is only attained when life is apprehended as a sphere of moral discipline, the methods of which cannot now be fully understood, but the issues of which are absolutely assured, and the conduct of which is wholly in all-wise and all-loving hands.

6. Godliness. Better seen as God-likeness. Then it can at once be apprehended that, if it is to be something really practical, it must be likeness to “God manifest in the flesh.” It must be the persistent endeavour to fashion our lives after the Christ-pattern, not by way of any mere servile imitation of incidents or actions, but in a noble way of giving sway and influence to the same principles, and motives. And to ensure “God-likeness” involves the deepest interest in the human life of the Lord Jesus, and such near fellowship with Him that we readily change into His image.

7. Brotherliness. “Love of the brethren.” The power and the skill that may enable us to fix and arrange all our human relationships aright, and keep them right. There may be a direct reference to our relations with those who have like precious faith with us; our brethren and sisters in Christ Jesus.

8. Charity. R.V. “love.” It may be doubted whether we can wisely lose the word “charity,” which, for Bible readers, does not mean “almsgiving,” but “considerate helpfulness of one another.” And we want a word to express that, which is one of the essential features of the Christly life. Charity expresses the “beautiful” in Christian relations, as no other word can do. If the very close relations between these things be observed, it will be fully recognised that the getting of any one of them becomes a direct help to the gaining of the others. They are links of a chain, and if one link be drawn close, the others will surely be drawn nearer. The truth to present forcibly is, that Christian character is a whole. You see it is when you see it perfectly presented in Christ. We can never be satisfied with our own characters while the possible whole is unrealised. We can never be satisfied with one-sided and imperfect developments in those to whom we minister in Christ’s name. We must desire their all-round and harmonious growth. And the grace is at our command for nourishing in ourselves, and in others, that all-round growth.

SUGGESTIVE NOTES AND SERMON SKETCHES

2 Peter 1:10. Making Sure our Calling.—The doctrines of predestination, Divine grace, and effectual calling, have a strong basis in human conviction. Whatever his forms of belief may be, every saved man cherishes the assurance that he was called of God, and led to make choice of God. There are two factors in human redemption: the moving of Divine grace toward us, the response of our hearts to it; and both are essential. The order of the words “calling and election” is not our usual order. We say “election and calling” (Romans 8:29). St. Peter may have meant by “election,” here, man’s act of choice. Then he may be representing Christian hope on both its sides: God’s calling and man’s choosing.

I. Our calling and election needs to be made sure.—Not to God. It does need to be realised by ourselves, and demonstrated to others. There is a great difference in individuals as regards Christian assurance. Some have no confidence throughout their lives. Assurance partly depends on natural disposition, partly on surrounding circumstances and influences. Religious experience is too living a thing to be squared to any system. The kind of relation that health bears to the work and pleasure of life, an assured interest in Christ bears to our Christian living and labouring. The assurance of our calling bears directly—

1. On the activity of Christian life. “Not barren or idle,” as ground bringing forth nothing. Illustration: Conviction of call on the old prophets made them active. Noah kept busy at his Ark under the power of strong convictions. St. Paul says, “Woe is me if I preach not the gospel;” “Now, then, we are ambassadors for Christ.” In him was a noble restlessness of activity, based on strong conviction.

2. On the fruitfulness of the Christian life. “Nor unfruitful.” “Herein is My Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit.” Fruitage of Christian knowledge. Real rooting in Christ is never afraid of growing in knowledge. There is sometimes more attention given to rooting than to fruiting; then the religious life is apt to weaken into mere sentiment.

3. On the hopefulness of Christian life. They that fail are “blind”—cannot see afar off. Plain human vision can see little beyond this present life. Strong confidence gets us upon the Delectable Mountains, and helps us to hold the telescope, and see visions of the far-away. Much of the joy of Christian living depends on the hopefulness which pierces into the future.

4. On the responsibility of Christian life. “Forgotten that he was purged.” If a man is purged, it is manifestly as a preparation for a clean, new life. “Ye are washed, ye are sanctified.” Life gains its full responsibility as the sphere in which Christ can be glorified, when we can say, “I am a purged, washed, redeemed man.”

5. On the security of the Christian life. “Shall never fall.” Illustrate from experience of Christian ministers. God’s call is just what keeps them from despair in the strain-times of life. There are similar experiences in private life.

6. On the final triumph of Christian life. “So an entrance ministered abundantly.” A most unworthy feeling sometimes gets possession of Christian professors. They think they may get at last just inside the gate; satisfied with being “almost saved,” “saved so as by fire,” “scarcely saved.” Holy Scripture never encourages such feelings, because they usually represent a false humility. It urges us rather to aim at getting right close up to the throne. The Christian ought to go into heaven as a ship enters harbour after voyage, with yards manned, and flags hanging along every rope. If it be so important that we should have and keep a well-grounded hope, the question remains—

II. How can the assurance of our calling and election be maintained?—“Give diligence.” It is a matter requiring active pursuit. We must not idly wait for some Divine impressions. God’s witness comes to workers. Yet we may pursue it wrongly. We shall

(1) if we fall back on past experience; or

(2) if we merely nourish religious feelings. The true direction is given by St. Peter (2 Peter 1:5). These terms describe growth—the growth which is the sure sign of life. Plant: its life is shown by its growing. Child: its health and vigour are evidenced by its growing.

1. True assurance comes out of growth in godly character. One grace is to be added to another. A lower grace is to rise and be developed into a higher.

2. True assurance comes out of growth in practical godly living. Ever more complete subjection of all life to the sway of holy principle. Ever holding more and more of life under godly control. Up to the light you have, follow on, and you will find that, as you grow, assurance grows; you will “keep your calling and election sure.”

2 Peter 1:10. Christian Diligence.—How eagerly we catch the last words of dying friends! In the fourteenth verse of this chapter St. Peter says, “Knowing that shortly I must put off this my tabernacle, even as our Lord Jesus Christ hath shewed me.” The warm-hearted apostle, who through good and evil report had faithfully preached the gospel for many years, and had led very many souls to peace and joy, was about to enter within that veil which hides the “great majority” from mortal sight, and to join the “spirits of just men made perfect” in their eternal rest. With such a change at hand, it is no wonder that such an earnest and loving entreaty runs through this epistle. With the last moments of his life he strove to minister to the saints by stirring them up with the holy reminiscences of the past. What a worthy termination to the life of one who had left all things to follow the Master! Let the thought that our text formed a part of the last message St. Peter delivered to the Church, influence us to give the more earnest heed to his words. The expansion of the Christian virtues forms a part of the exhortation. We have a chain of eight links to forge. “And besides this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge; and to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness; and to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity.” Out of the Christian temper these holy virtues grow, but their cultivation requires diligence. Our text is a resumption of the passage under another figure—that of entering service, and perseverance in duty. This duty is stimulated by the twofold promise of present safety and future glory.

I. The duty which is enjoined.“Give diligence to make your calling and election sure.” Negligence would have endangered the safety of their position. They were in possession, and they were exhorted to conserve every blessing and maintain a good profession. The subject has two branches, indicating two important steps in the experience of the saints.

1. Your calling. This word is frequently used by St. Paul. “I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called” (Ephesians 4:1). It is by invitation we enter the service of Jesus Christ. “Wherefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, consider the Apostle and High Priest of our profession, Christ Jesus.” The source of the invitation is Divine,—“For the gifts and calling of God are without repentance.” Two things are implied: the gracious invitation of the gospel, and the willing acceptance of it by us. Let us seize on these important points, that we may fully realise our calling. The gospel is a call from God. We have turned every one to his own way, and have forsaken the way of peace. Notwithstanding our apostasy, the gracious Lord has stretched forth His hands to a stiff-necked and a gainsaying people. The first step in redemption is from the throne: the rebels are asked to return and sue for peace. Under the old Dispensation the proclamation ran: “Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth; for I am God, and there is none else.” Under the Christian dispensation the proclamation was renewed and intensified: “Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” The mission of Jesus was not only to declare the merciful nature of God, but also to use every legitimate means to induce the sinner to seek God’s favour. The Advent brought in a life more replete than any other, which embodied all the elements of influence and attraction. The Ambassador of peace sought, by a full exposition of the terms of mercy, to influence sinners to accept their salvation. The parable of precept; by example and deed, yea, and by suffering and death, our blessed Lord put forth the invitation. His first great work was to seek the lost, to bring the offer of redemption home to the heart and conscience of man. The gospel is that representation, and its ministers are the ambassadors who cry, “Hear His voice, and harden not your hearts as in the day of provocation.” The sum and substance of their mission is contained in the memorable words of St. Paul: “Be ye reconciled to God.” But this is not all; we are called into the service of God, which is a course of life in harmony with the call. To accept the invitation is to make the life of Christ our example. We are called to repentance, to faith, to prayer, to holiness, and to service. The first response of the penitent is: “Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?” Those who accept the invitation engage to enter the service of Christ, and give Him their time, talent, and substance. This is our calling.

2. Your election. The term “election” in the writings of St. Paul generally means the pre-determination of God to save mankind through Jesus Christ. But St. Peter, in the text, uses the word in the sense of “acceptance.” It is simply an extension of the meaning which the word “calling” contains. The servant is chosen, or approved of, after a trial of his services. This is a step forward. The first step is taken in answer to the sovereign will of God, through His mercy by Jesus Christ; but the second step is a movement in our own soul. The new birth is exhibited by the life which follows it. The new heart circulates the vital element through the whole man.

3. Such a station demands diligence. We do not at once ascend to the higher grade of faith, but must work out our salvation through fear and trembling. The climax of Christian experience is reached by a persistent effort of holy living. Diligence in the study of God’s Word will bring the assurance of truth. Diligence in following the example of Christ will give a conscience void of offence. Diligence in the spiritual exercise of communion with God will give the evidence of the Spirit, testifying with our spirits that we are the children of God. Diligence in loving efforts to establish the kingdom of Christ in this world will bring the assurance of service. Every step forward brings us nearer the promised land. The higher objects of the Divine life are attainable, not by spasmodic effort, but by faithfulness to trust. The cross comes before the crown, and labour before rest. The example of Jesus will lead us onward and upward, until we reach the highest point in holiness and consecration. Let us lay aside every hindrance to run with patience the race set before us. The certainty that “if ye do these things ye shall never fall,” stimulates action, for all the steps of faith are firm, and all the aspirations of hope are sure. There never will be any unfaithfulness in the Master; He will not discharge His faithful servants. If we are true to our Father’s faith till death, we shall maintain the course, and get the crown. Those who have put their hand to the plough must not look back. It is by looking forward we make the straight furrow. Those who are in the fold will share its blessings world without end. They will never fall into unbelief or temptation, but will stand, firmly fixed on the Rock of Ages.

II. The prospect which cheers.—In looking upward there is to be seen the object for which all labour, and its possession.

1. Everlasting kingdom. “Wherefore we receive a kingdom that cannot be moved.” The ultimate triumph of truth, and the universal reign of righteousness, are looming in the distance. The vision is full of encouragement. From one mind the law will go forth to rule all men; and from one heart love will flow to bless mankind. The kingdoms of this world change, but Messiah’s rule will run parallel with the ages. “Thy kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and Thy dominion endureth for ever.” Founded upon His immutable nature, and directed by His own inexorable counsel, His reign cannot be shaken by time or destroyed by sin. The gates of hell will not prevail against it. We are looking forward towards universal order, when the foundation of the government shall be laid in the affections of its subjects. Its organisation will be complete, and its boundaries commensurate with the habitable parts of the earth. To our labour of love and work of faith, this is the goal. Once established, the gospel will continue its hold on all believers, and supply them with unabatable joy. There will be no more sin, and no more curse. The kingdom will be lighted up by the presence of Jehovah, and no unclean thing will enter it. This, then, is that consummation for which the ages are in travail, and to which Christian effort will give birth.

2. Abundant entrance. The vision is that of the gate of the golden city, thrown widely open. It seems as if he saw the victorious army returning from the battle-field, receiving an ovation from the citizens. The result of Christian service is contemplated, and the joy that shall follow. The consummation of hope, and the realisation of the objects of faith, will flow into the soul abundantly. Abundant will be the gratification at seeing the victories of the cross. Jesus will be crowned “Lord of all.” Abundant will be the welcome to the pilgrims of the night: “Well done, thou good and faithful servant”; and unstinted will be the congratulation when they enter the joy of their Lord. They will evermore reign with Christ in life. Such will be the end of prayer, such the reward of patience. Each worker will receive his penny, and each martyr his crown. The termination of the struggle will be the beginning of real and eternal life. Work, then, until the Master come with His reward to each faithful servant. Work, before the night cometh; work diligently to obtain the Master’s approval now, and His joy hereafter.—Weekly Pulpit.

2 Peter 1:11; 2 Peter 1:14. What Faith Makes of Death.

I. The representation of death as a putting off the tabernacle.—There is, of course, a reference to the warning which the apostle received from his Lord “signifying what death He should die.” He had learned that in his old age he should be seized and bound and led “whither he would not.” In all probability the language of our verse would be more accurately represented if we read for “shortly” suddenly—the apostle’s anticipation not being so much that his dissolution was impending as that his death, when it came, would be sudden—that is to say, violent—and therefore he seeks to warn and prepare his brethren beforehand. The expression seems to blend the two figures, that of a tabernacle—or tent—and that of a vesture. As the apostle Paul, in like manner, blends the same two ideas when he talks of being “clothed upon with our house which is from heaven,” and unclothed from “our earthly house of this tabernacle.” To such small dimensions has Christian faith dwindled down the ugly thing, death. It has come to be nothing more than a change of vesture, a change of dwelling. Now, what lies in that metaphor? Three things I touch upon for a moment. First of all the rigid limitation of the region within which death has any power at all. It affects a man’s vesture, his dwelling-place, something that belongs to him, something that wraps him, but nothing that is himself. This enemy may seem to come in and capture the whole fortress, but it is only the outworks that are thrown down; the citadel stands. The organ is one thing, the player on it is another; and whatever befalls that has nothing to do with what touches him. Instead of an all-mastering conqueror, then, as sense tells us that death is, and as a great deal of modern science is telling us that death is, it is only a power that touches the fringe and circumference, the wrap-page and investiture of my being, and has nothing to do with that being itself. The “foolish senses” may declare that death is lord, because they “see no motion in the dead.” But in spite of sense and anatomist’s scalpels, organisation is not life. Mind and conscience, will and love, are something more than functions of the brain; and no scalpel can ever cut into self. I live, and may live, and—blessed be God!—I can say shall live, apart altogether from this, bodily organisation. Whatever befalls, it is only like changing a dress, or removing into another house. The man is untouched. Another thing implied in this figure—and, indeed, in all three metaphors of our text—is that life runs on unbroken and the same through and after death. If the apostle be right in his conviction that the change only affects the circumference, then of course that follows naturally. Unbroken and the same! The gulf looks deep and black to us on this side, but, depend upon it, it looks a mere chink which a step can cross, when seen from the other. Like some of the rivers that disappear in a subteranean tunnel, and then emerge into the light again, the life that sinks out of sight in the dark valley of the shadow of death will come up into a brighter sunshine beyond the mountains, and it will be running in the same direction that it followed when it was lost to mortal eye. For just as the dying Stephen knew his Master again, when he saw Him standing in the glory, we should know our dear ones after they had passed through this change; for all the sweetness and all the love would be there still, and nothing would be gone but the weakness that encompassed them, and the imperfection that sometimes masked their true beauty. The same in direction, the same in essence, uninterrupted through the midst of the darkness, the life goes on. A man is the same, whatever dress he wears. Though we know that much will be changed, and that new powers may come, and old wants and weaknesses fall away with new environment, still the essential self will be unchanged, and the life will run on without a break, and with scarcely a deflection. There is no magic in the art of death which changes the set of a character, or the tendencies and desires of a nature. As you die so you live, and you live in your death and after your death the same man and woman that you were when the blow fell.

II. Death is further spoken of as a departure. “I will endeavour,” says the apostle, “that ye may be able after my decease.” The word for “decease” here is a very unusual one, as, no doubt, many of you know. It is employed with reference to death only twice in the New Testament, once in the text, and once in the account of our Lord’s Transfiguration, where Moses and Elias are represented as speaking with Him “of the decease that He should accomplish at Jerusalem.” You may observe that immediately after the last of my texts, the apostle begins to speak about that Transfiguration, and makes definite reference to what he had heard there; so that it is at all events possible that he selects the unusual word with some reference to, or some remembrance of, its use upon that occasion in the narrative of one of the evangelists. Again, it is the word which has been transferred into English as Exodus, and may possibly be here employed with some allusion to the departure of the children of Israel from the land of bondage. Now, looking at these three points, the literal meaning of this word, its employment in reference to the deliverance from Egypt, and its employment in reference to the death of Christ, we gather from them valuable considerations. This aspect of death shows it to us as seen from this side. Like the former, it minimises its importance by making it merely a change of place—another stage in a journey. We have had many changes already; only this is the last stage, the last day’s march, and it takes us home. But yet the sad thoughts of separation and withdrawal are here. These show us the saddest aspect of death, which no reflection and no consolation of religion will ever make less sad. Death, the separator, is, and must always be, an unwelcome messenger. He comes and lays his bony hand upon us, and unties the closest embraces, and draws us away from all the habitudes and associations of our lives, and bans us into a lonely land. But even in this aspect there is alleviation, if we will think about this departure in connection with the two uses of the word which I have mentioned. A change of place; yes! an Exodus from bondage; as true a deliverance from captivity as that old Exodus was. Life has its chains and limitations, which are largely due to the bodily life hemming in and shackling the spirit. It is a prison-house, though it be full of God’s goodness. We cannot but feel that, even in health, and much more in sickness, the bondage of flesh and sense, of habits rooted in the body, and of wants which it feels, weighs heavily upon us. By one swift stroke of Death’s hammer, the fetters are struck off. Death is a Liberator, in the profoundest sense; the Moses that leads the bondsmen into a desert it may be, but to liberty and towards their own land, to their rest. It is the angel who comes in the night to God’s prisoned servant, striking the fetters from his limbs, and leading him through the iron gate into the city. And so we do not need to shiver and fear for ourselves or to mourn for our dear ones, if they have passed out of the bondage of “corruption into the liberty of the glory of the children of God.” Death is a departure which is an emancipation. Again, it is a departure which is conformed to Christ’s “decease,” and is guided and companioned by Him. Ah! There you touch the deepest source of all comfort and all strength:

“Christ leads us through no darker rooms

Than He went through before.”

And the memory of His presence is comfort and light. What would it be, for instance, to a man stumbling in the polar regions, amidst eternal ice and trackless wastes, to come across the footprints of a man? What would it be if He found out that they were the footprints of His own brother? And you and I have a Brother’s steps to tread in when we take that last weary journey from which flesh and sense shrink and fail.

III. The last aspect of these metaphors is that one contained in the words of our first text: “an entrance ministered abundantly.” The going out is a going in; the journey has two ends, only the two ends are so very near each other that the same act is described by the two terms. Looked at from this side, it is a going out; looked at from the other side, it is a coming in. The smallest faith that unites a man’s heart with Jesus Christ makes him capable of receiving so much of salvation as is contained in the bare entrance into the kingdom; but every degree of faith’s increase, and every degree of faith’s enrichment, makes him more capable of receiving more of God in Christ, and he will get all he can hold. So every deed here on earth of Christian conduct, and every grace here on earth of Christian character, has its issue and its representative in a new influx of the glory, and a more intimate possession of the bliss, and a more abundant entrance into the everlasting kingdom.—Selected.

ILLUSTRATIONS TO CHAPTER 1

2 Peter 1:7. Brotherly Kindness.—Two fishermen, a few years ago, were mending their nets on board their vessel on one of the lakes in the interior of Argyleshire, at a considerable distance from the shore, when a sudden squall upset their boat. One of them could not swim, and the only oar which floated was caught by him that could swim. His sinking companion cried, “Ah, my poor wife and children, they must starve now!” “Save yourself; I will risk my life for their sakes!” said the other, thrusting the oar beneath the arms of the drowning man. He committed himself instantly to the deep, in danger of perishing for the safety of his companion. That moment the boat struck the bottom, and started the other oar by their side and thus both were enabled to keep afloat till they were picked up.

2 Peter 1:10. Who are the Elect?—You have heard of the senator relating to his son the account of the book containing the names of illustrious members of the Commonwealth. The son desired to see the outside. It was glorious to look upon. “Oh, let me open it,” said the son. “Nay,” said the father, “it’s known only to the council.” Then said the son, “Tell me if my name is there.” “And that,” said the father, “is a secret known only to the council, and it cannot be divulged.” Then he desired to know for what achievements the names were inscribed in that book. So the father told him; and related to him the achievements and noble deeds by which they had eternised their names. “Such,” said he, “are written, and none but such are written, in the book.” “And will my name be there?” said the son. “I cannot tell thee,” said the father; “if thy deeds are like theirs, thou shalt be written in the book; if not, thou shalt not be written.” And then the son consulted with himself, and he found that his whole deeds were playing, and singing, and drinking, and amusing himself; and he found that this was not noble, nor temperate, nor valiant. And as he could not read, as yet, his name, he determined to “make his calling and election sure.” And thus, “by patient continuance in well-doing, the end is crowned with glory, honour, immortality, and eternal life.”—Rev. E. P. Hood.

2 Peter 1:10. Preparing for Eternity.—I have read somewhere—I think it was of Bonaventura—that in one of his sermons he described himself as in a dream, beholding a vast valley of rocks covered with workers, or those who were supposed to be working. Some wrought, and as they wrought, they shaped pieces of stone. Every piece of stone was shaped to exactly the same proportions, squared to exactly the same shape. “And I saw,” said the dreamer, “and behold while they wrought, invisible, white-winged angels stood by, and they took each piece of stone and bare it, and built of them a palace in the fair kingdoms among the mansions of light. And I noticed others who were idle, lying, sleeping in the valley of rocks; but I noticed that invisible, dark living spirits were by them while they slept—not to receive the hewn stones, but themselves excavating, and shaping, and bearing them away to build homes in the dark vaults of lost being. Then I knew that these stones were hours. And I knew that our hours are building our future eternal homes; that as they are passed here, so shall we be for ever.—Hood.

2 Peter 1:11. The Abundant Entrance.—We may take an illustration from a vessel returning after a long voyage, and being received and welcomed by expectant friends. She has been, let us suppose, absent for years has been toiling and trafficking in every sea—touching at the ports and trading in the markets of many lands; she is approaching at last her “desired haven” the harbour from which she set out, whence loving thoughts went with her as she started on her perilous way, and where anxious hearts are now wishing and waiting for her return. She is descried in the distance: the news spreads; all is excitement; multitudes assemble; pier and quay, beach and bank, are crowded with spectators, as the little craft pushes on, and every moment nears her destination. There she is!—worn and weather-beaten, it is true, covered with the indications of sore travel and long service, and with many signs of her having encountered the battle and the breeze. But all is safe! Her goodly freight is secure and uninjured; her profits have been large; the merchandise she brings is both rare and rich. She is coming along over a sunny sea, leaping and dancing as if she were alive. Her crew are on the deck, and, with straining eyes and palpitating hearts, are looking towards the shore. A soft wind swells the sails; the blue heavens are bending over the bark, as if smiling on her course, while the very waves seem to run before her, turning themselves about with conscious joy, clapping their hands, and murmuring a welcome! How she bounds forwards! She is over the bar! She is gliding now in smooth water, is passing into port, and is preparing to moor and to drop her anchor for the last time! While she does so there comes a shout from the assembled spectators—the crowds that witness and welcome her approach—loud as thunder, musical as the sea! Gladness and greeting are on every hand. Eloquent voices fill the air. The vessel has received “an abundant entrance;” her crew have been met with sympathetic congratulations, are surrounded by eager and glad friends, hailed with enthusiasm, embraced with rapture, and accompanied to their home with shouting and songs!—Rev. T. Binney.

Entrance Ministered.—The phrase “an entrance shall be ministered” is an expressive and a striking one; what can be the meaning of it? The English word supplying no satisfactory answer to this question, we naturally turn to the word employed in the original, and by this we are unequivocally directed to a usage which was anciently prevalent on the Greek stage. Without pretending to any extensive knowledge of theatrical amusements as they are conducted among ourselves, it may, I suppose, be safely observed that the scenery and the performers tell the whole story of the plot, and that an acted drama has not now any auxiliary explanation. It was not so in ancient Greece. There, besides the scenery and the actors, was placed at the side of the stage a small body of persons who took no part in the play, but at various points of its progress recited, or sang, a few sentences auxiliary to it; either announcing persons of distinction, explaining some intended action, or bewailing some tragical occurrence. This group of persons was called the chorus, and upon this word chorus is distinctly formed the verb which is here employed by the apostle when he says “an entrance shall be ministered” into the heavenly kingdom. One critical observation only requires to be made. At different periods of Grecian history the word to which I am referring appears to have had different significations. More anciently, and primarily, the word ἐπιχορηγέω signified to lead, or conduct, the chorus, while less ancient writers employ it to denote one who provided the expenses of the chorus. I hold myself quite at liberty to take the more ancient, and the undoubtedly primary meaning of the word, as the only one which is at all suitable to the apostle’s purpose. And his meaning cannot, I think, be less than this: that as in a dramatic performance persons of distinction were honourably introduced by the chorus, so the entrance of a saint into heaven shall be “ministered,” or chorused. It shall not be the mere addition of one to the number of its inhabitants, not an obscure or unnoticed admission, as merely granted, but an entrance announced with gladness and accompanied with honour. To proceed yet a step farther, the apostle tells us that to some “an entrance shall be ministered abundantly.” Keeping in view the general idea before us, the conception suggested by this very expressive word, “abundantly,” it is not difficult to realise. State pageants vary in their degrees of splendour. Always befitting the royal dignity, on some occasions as when the personage introduced is of extraordinary rank, they are more especially gorgeous, every contrivance of courtly ingenuity being put into requisition to make the ceremony correspond with the dignity of the one party, and to express the regard of the other. In such a case an introduction may be said—to take up the phraseology of the text—to be “ministered abundantly.” And the idea conveyed to us cannot be less than this, that among believers in Jesus there are some whose entrance into heaven shall be more especially honourable—whatever those honours may be, of which all that can be said is that the eye hath not seen them, the ear hath not heard them, neither hath the heart of man conceived them.—Rev. John Howard Hinton, M.A.

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