Luke 8:13

ROOTS OF THE CHRISTIAN LIFE

‘These have no root.’

Luke 8:13

The question is, What are ‘roots’? I should define the ‘root’ to be that which, lying secret, far down, gives strength and steadiness to that which is exposed, and at the same time supplies to all the other parts the nourishment which each requires for its life and growth.

I. The deepest ‘root’ of all is God’s election.—So deep, that it is really out of all reach and knowledge and ken of man, and yet it is the largest ‘root’ of all the ‘roots.’ If you are a Christian, the beginning of all beginnings is that ‘God chose you.’ There you touch God. You build upon a rock. You entwine yourself about the Eternities of the Unchangeable.

I do not say that you are to attempt to handle and examine this ‘root’; but when you think of it, it is an immense comfort and strength: ‘God loved me from everlasting.’ When all other ‘roots’ may seem to snap, you can hold to that. ‘God, in His amazing love, chose me.’

II. Only second to this is a distinct knowledge and a firm personal appropriation of the scheme of salvation.—Every one who wishes to continue in grace must have clear views of doctrine. God having loved me (why, I do not know, but because He is love) gave me to His Son; His Son, dying for me, paid all my debt, cancelled all my sins, and gave me a perfect righteousness, bestowing upon me a title to heaven. The Son, having saved me, gave me to the Spirit, that I might be made myself gradually holier and holier, till I was meet for heaven. And because I am not holy even thus, the Spirit gives me back to Jesus, to be perfected in His perfections, which clothe me with a beautiful robe, and make me, poor sinner as I am, in God’s sight ‘perfect.’ And so Jesus presents me, and gives me back to the Father—Who first gave me to him—‘complete.’

III. Growing out of this ‘root’ is another ‘root’—love.—You are loved, and the ray must reflect itself. I should not now make any distinction about whom you love—God or man, or whom. I mean, there is a melting, soft, loving frame—it is what a sense of God’s love always gives—an affectionate compassion of the heart. Of course it will go, at first, to God. But then it will widen its circles—everywhere. It becomes the motive power—‘The love of Christ constraineth me.’

IV. Branching out of this ‘root’ is another—a humbling sense of sin and weakness.—I see it here because I know that humility is a shoot of love. We never do feel our guilt and nothingness until we feel loved and forgiven. The sense of being loved is the surest thing to put a man into the dust. And this feeling that we are nothing, and can be nothing, is a very great ‘root.’

V. One more ‘root’—secret communion with God.—Nothing will be a substitute for that. Services—Christian fellowship—holy communion—are all necessary parts of the Divine life. But those are not ‘roots.’ The ‘root’ must go deeper. It must be something deep and hidden—a converse with God in the depths of a man’s soul. In consists chiefly in two things—the private exercises of your own room, and the little silent communications with God which occur in your heart everywhere. If you do not keep up both these—earnestly and constantly—your soul must die!

Rev. James Vaughan.

Illustration

‘ “The length of the branch is the measure and the extent of the root.” As the one spreads above ground, so in exact proportion the other stretches beneath it. How far do your branches go? How far are you extending an influence for God? Whom do you bring to live under God’s shadow? Where are you exercising some deep power over another’s soul? Who is picking fruit off you for Christ and His glory? It is very easy—to be moved by the beauty of religion and the loveliness of Christ—even to tears! It is very easy—to have a strong conviction of sin, rather for sin’s sake, because it is so wretched, than for Christ’s sake, because it is so dire! It is very easy—to be good for a day, or a week, or a month! It is very easy—to receive with joy, and lose with levity! I have seen many who have “flourished like a green bay tree”; but I pass by to-morrow, “and lo! they are not,” and “their place is nowhere to be found!” And I hear that sad sentence—that wail, sadder than the dirge of the grave, “ These have no root!” ’