2 Timothy 2:19

The foundation of God standeth sure.

Nevertheless

We should give full force to the μέντοι. If the spirit of the apostle was perturbed with vain babblings, or cruel mortification, or the spread of plausible or perilous theories, he required to fall back upon great and deep principles. (H. R. Reynolds, D. D.)

The foundation

Rather, “God’s firm foundation stands,” i.e., the Church, the “great house” of 2 Timothy 2:20, but here designated by its “foundation,” because the antithesis is to the baseless fabrics of heresy. Other explanations have been: the doctrine of the resurrection of the body, the promises of God, the fidelity of God, Christ, the Christian faith, the election of God. But the context and the analogy of Ephesians 2:19 leave little doubt of the correctness of the first interpretation. (Speaker’s Commentary.)

The foundation of God

The scene here is one of destruction and desolation. On all sides houses are shaken and overturned. The houses are individuals or communities professing to believe the gospel. The faith of some, of many diversely minded and diversely influenced, is overthrown. But, amid the storm and wreck occasioned by false principles issuing in corrupt practice, there is a building which standeth sure. Now it may be the Church collective of which it is said, the Church which has the Lord’s promise that the gates of bell shall not prevail against her. But it may also be the individual believer that is intended; for the collective Church and the individual believer are on the same footing. For my present purpose I take the text in this latter view, and hold it to be descriptive of the Christian man, continuing steadfast and firm in his faith amid many surrounding instances of backsliding and apostasy. He is a tower, or temple, or building of some sort standing sure; being the foundation of God. And in token of that security he is sealed. He is doubly sealed; sealed on both sides.

I. “The Lord knoweth them that are His.”

1. The Lord knoweth them that are His by signs or marks or tokens bearing on His interest or right of property in them, His ownership of them. Thus, He knows them as given to Him by the Father from before all worlds, in the everlasting covenant. The Lord knoweth them that are His as redeemed by Him. He knows them by the Spirit’s work in them also.

2. The other class of marks or tokens by which the Lord knoweth them that are His, those bearing upon their interest or right of property in Him, do unquestionably come within the range and sphere of your consciousness and experience. They are, in fact, in the main, but an expansion, or unfolding, of the last of the three former ones, the work of the Spirit making you Christ’s, and Christ yours, and keeping you evermore in this blessed unity.

(1) The Lord knoweth them that are His, by the need they have of Him.

(2) By the trust they put in Him.

(3) By the love they bear to Him.

(4) By the work they do for Him.

(5) By their suffering for and with Him.

(6) As waiting for Him.

Now, put together all these marks by which the Lord knoweth them that are His, and say what must His thus knowing them mean? what must it imply and involve? Nay, rather, what will it not include of watchful care, tender pity, unwearied sympathy, unbounded beneficence and liberality and bountifulness?

II. “Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.”

1. Naming the name of Christ comes before departing from iniquity. This is the evangelical arrangement. And it is the only one that can meet the sinner’s case.

2. Naming the name of Christ is to be followed by departing from iniquity: and that not only in the form of a natural and necessary consequence to be anticipated, but in that of obedience to a peremptory command. It is not said, He that nameth the name of Christ may be expected, or will be inclined, or must be moved by a Divine impulse, to depart from iniquity. But it is expressly put as an authoritative and urgent precept. “Let him that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.”

3. Naming the name of Christ and departing from iniquity thus go together. They are not really twain, but one. There is not first a naming of the name of Christ, as if it were an act or a transaction to be completed at once, and so disposed of and set aside; and then thereafter a departing from iniquity, as its fitting consequence and commanded sequel. The two things cannot be thus separated. For, in truth, naming the name of Christ involves departing from iniquity; and departing from iniquity is possible only by naming the name of Christ. (R. S. Candlish, D. D.)

The palace and its inscription

I. The safety of the church is founded on God’s immutability. Whether the truth is regarded as an abstract existence, or as personified in the Church, it takes its stand on this attribute of the Divine Being. All ecclesiastical history is but a commentary upon the fact that “the foundation of the Lord standeth sure.” The pledge of Church safety rests on Fact and Promise. Time would fail us to trace out the former. We see it in that dark vessel ploughing the waves of an ocean-sepulchre, and settling on the crest of Ararat. We see it in those weeping tribes by the river of Babylon; for though their harps are silent, the very breeze that stirs the willow echoes the voice of Israel’s God! We see it in that pillar of cloud and in that pillar of light. We hear Daniel rejoicing over it in the lion’s den, and the faithful Hebrews proving it in the furnace of fire, and all the countless multitudes of Christ’s confessors deepen the voice of confirmation! History is our stronghold of proof. We dare the sceptic to unbolt the door of the past, and show us wherein the Divine immutability has failed. Shall we turn to Promise, to show the Church’s safety? It is like turning to a sky lighted with constellations of suns, or to a world bespangled with rarest flowers, or to a land flowing with milk and honey. To record the promises were a task almost equal to transcribing the entire Bible.

II. The seal with which God has enstamped the Church partakes of his immutability. There is no mistaking it. Time does not obliterate it. The “seal” cannot be successfully counterfeited in the eye of God. He knows His own.

1. This “seal” is ornamental. A monarch’s star is a mere toy--give it time and it will rot. Young men, you seek after the decorative, here it is! It “shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head, and chains about thy neck.”

2. This “seal” is a passport to confidence. Christianity has won many compliments in its practical outworking, from those who effect to despise the evidence on which its claim to divinity is founded!

3. This “seal” is an earnest of future glory. Such is the testimony of Scripture (2 Corinthians 1:21; Ephesians 4:30).

III. The seal indicates discrimination and appreciation of character. “The Lord knoweth them that are His.” What mean those strange words? In the wide sense of creation all men are God’s--in the sense of Providence all are the pensioners of His bounty; and Jesus Christ is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but for the sins of the whole world. There are standing places in the universe, from which all humanity may be regarded as the peculiar property of God. But there is an inner circle in which are found hearts differing from the majority--hearts bearing the “seal” of God-property.

1. The thought that God appreciates the Christian character, and will finally glorify it, is to the believer a source of comfort.

2. This thought, moreover, imparts a sense of security.

3. This thought, again, suggests principles of action. Fond as we may be of comfort, and anxious to be assured of security, there is something positive expected from our Divine relationship. If God knows me, the world must know me too. The Christian has a profession to maintain.

IV. Distinctions in moral character may exist without the seal of divine appreciation. If all men were God’s in the peculiar sense of the text, there would be no special meaning in its terms. A class is referred to, in contradistinction to all other classes. There are only two sections in the domain of moral being--the good and the bad; these again being broken up into almost endless sub-divisions, shades and stages of development. To make the leading proposition clearer, take a sample of instances:--

1. Here is a man of keen religious sensibility. A tender heart is a great treasure, indeed, but let not a few tears be considered proof of penitence.

2. Here is the rigid formalist. Religion is a life, not a form: it is an actual power and not an elaborate creed. The Cross, and not the pew, is the true way to heaven.

3. A third hopes in the mercy of God. A benevolent God, he argues, will not destroy one of His own creatures. He forgets the harmony of the Divine attributes. Overlooking an outraged justice, he hopes in an insulted love. Terrible is the portion of those who bear not God’s seal (Revelation 9:3).

V. The church, as a palace, must have unity, completion, and design. The Church is not a broken fragment or a shattered limb. It is a whole, where individual members have their part to play. The largo stones and the small ones must be side by side. The position that each shall occupy in the temple must be determined by the wise Master-builder. If one member is jealous of another’s position there is an end to unity and progress. We are each dependent on the other. (J. Parker, D. D.)

The firm foundation

The time in which we live presents two striking, and to many minds incongruous, features.

1. There is great unrest in the realm of religious thought and life. On every side are heard voices of dissent from both theological and ecclesiastical dogmas. Schools and Churches are shaken with strife. Many are anxiously questioning concerning the stability of the Christian faith, and not a few are prophesying evil. There is a strong and increasing revolt against traditionalism. But With this commotion in the realm of religious thought there is

2. a great increase of practical Christianity. Missions both at home and abroad are pushed more vigorously than ever, and with larger results. Education for the people advances with leaps and bounds. Philanthropic enterprises multiply in number and increase in wisdom and efficiency continually. The Church is stripping off her dainty garments and grappling with social problems in a new spirit. There is a broadening application of Christianity to life, such as no past age has witnessed. In a word, the situation is this: The power of dogma wanes, but the power of truth waxes; forms are decadent, life is crescent; religious authority is challenged on every side, spiritual influence broadens and deepens. Here is a seeming contradiction or anomaly. Many do not understand the times. In their alarm over the upheaval in the realm of religious thought they fail to see or to appreciate the uplift in the realm of religious life. Can we not see that

“God fulfils Himself in many ways,

Lest one good custom should corrupt the world”?

There is a “firm foundation of God.” A careful study of the Scriptures, of history, and of experience makes clear--

(1) That the essential basis of Christianity is not an institution, nor even a book. Christianity was before the Church. Christianity was before the New Testament. It produced the Gospels and Epistles, as in the olden time the prophetic spirit and experience antedated and produced the prophetic history and literature. Men forget this. They forget that God and the soul, and God revealing Himself to the soul, precede the institutions and records of religion.

(2) It is clear also that the essential basis of Christianity is not a creed. Faith existed before dogma. It terminates in a personality and not in a proposition or any series of propositions. Dogma is the result of an attempt to express and justify faith as an intellectual possession. It is natural and inevitable that men should make this attempt. But the process which goes on in the sphere of the understanding, or even its result, must not be identified with Christianity any more than physiology should be identified with the exercise of physiological functions, or dietetics with eating, or optics with seeing. Creeds change as life and thoughts change. They must change if there is life. Thought grows. Experience deepens. All creeds save the simplest, the most elemental, are left behind. They are not basal, but resultant. They belong to the sphere of the understanding.

(3) The essential basis of Christianity is a personal revelation of God in and through “the man Christ Jesus,” and a personal experience of a Divine communion and a Divine guidance. How do we know God? Not by argument, but by experiencing the touch of God on the soul. There is a Divine impact on the spirit of man. Argument is always subordinate to experience. How do we know God as Father? Through the revelation of the archetypal Divine Sonship in Christ and the experience of sonship through fellowship with Him. Spiritual experience underlies Christianity. The great spiritual verities comes to us always as experiences. They authenticate themselves in consciousness. “How do you know that Christ is Divine?” said a Methodist bishop to a frontiersman whom he was examining for admission into the ministry. The brawny-limbed and little-cultivated but big-hearted man looked at the bishop a moment in silence, and then, as his eyes filled with tears, he exclaimed: “Why, bless you, sir, He saved my soul!” It was another way of saying : “I know whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him until that day.” This experience of God is inseparable from the perception and the acceptance of an inclusive ethical principle that makes life the progressive realisation of a Divine ideal of righteousness. The experience of a Divine communion and the attraction of a Divine ideal belong to the essence of Christianity. “Let every one that nameth the name of the Lord depart from unrighteousness.” Christianity has its essential basis, then, in a personal revelation of God in and through the Christ, and a personal experience of God as life and love, as source and goal, as ideal and law. The Book, or the institution, may be a means to the experience, but the experience is fundamental. Along this line of experience lies the test of all doctrines. Truth is realised in being. This foundation stands sure. It is not shaken by changes in Church or creed. History is full of illustrations. The Reformation came shattering the mediaeval Church as with throes of earthquake. Many sincere souls cried out in dismay that Christianity was overthrown. But the convulsion passed, and Christianity put on new power to bless the world. Within the present century geology began to tell its marvellous story of creation, and many devout souls saw in it a deadly menace to religion. Genesis became a rallying-ground for the alarmed theological hosts. But truth had its way. Old ideas and interpretations of the Mosaic cosmogony fell away, and Christianity spread more and more widely among the people. Then came Darwin, with his appalling and atheistical ideas of evolution! Then, indeed, the ark of God was in danger! Doughty champions of the faith drew their weapons for battle, while the timid were ready to exclaim that Church and Bible alike were doomed unless the new foe were vanquished. The foe has proved the best of friends. Evolution soon appeared to be a great structural principle of thought in all realms of study. It has entered the domains of sociology, politics, history, philosophy, and even theology. Meanwhile Christianity, better understood by the very principle that seemed to threaten its life, increases in power continually. Nothing is shaken and overturned by human progress but what ought to be shaken and overturned. Nothing true ever perishes. Christianity has proved itself hospitable to every advance in knowledge, and to every social and political change that has been a step forward in the long battle-march of humanity. They are guilty of a great error who base the validity of the gospel of Divine love and eternal life on any theory of creation or inspiration, or on any fixed scheme of social and political organisation. They say; If this theory of inspiration or salvation or church order is discredited, Christianity is discredited. But a hundred theories have been discredited, and even disproved, and Christianity is better authenticated and has a wider and stronger hold on the world to-day than ever. “The firm foundation of God standeth.” These are marks of abiding Christianity: The personal experience of God and the spiritual attraction of righteousness--God in the soul, a motive and an ideal. Cultivate the passion, not for safety, but for righteousness, the realisation of love in conduct. Strive not for fixedness, but for growth. Spiritual permanence is permanence of growth in knowledge and goodness. Love for God and man walks with sure feet through paths where selfishness stumbles and sinks in bogs of doubt and despair. Keep the mind open to the ever-teaching Spirit of God. There are withheld revelations that wait for the unfolding of capacity in man to receive God's disclosure. Be content with nothing. Let faith in God and love to man be the broad base on which to build the aspiring structure of an eternal life. That foundation standeth sure. Trust God for the future of humanity. The world was not made in jest, nor does the kingdom of God rest on a contingency. Faith, as well as love, casteth out fear. Two boys were talking together of Elijah's ascent in the chariot of fire. Said one; “Wouldn't you be afraid to ride in such a chariot?” “No,” said the other, “not if God drove!” God drives the chariot of human progress, and it mounts as it advances. God is in His world, not outside of it. He is redeeming it from sin. He is making men. He is fulfilling His holy and beneficent purpose. Fear not, but believe and hope, for the power as well as the glory is His to whom be glory for ever and ever. (P. S. Moxom.)

The foundation and its seal

I. First, let us think of the lamentable overthrow which the apostle so much deplored.

1. The apostle observed with sorrow a general coldness. It was in some respect coldness towards himself, but in reality it was a turning away from the simplicity of the doctrine of salvation by grace through faith (see the 15th verse of the previous chapter).

2. Furthermore, the apostle saw with much alarm that teachers were erring. He names two especially, Hymenaeus and Philetus, and he mentions the doctrine that they taught--not needlessly explaining it, but merely giving a hint at it. They taught, among other things, that the resurrection was past already. I suppose they had fallen into the manner of certain in our day, who spiritualise or rationalise everything.

3. In Paul’s day many professors were apostatising from the faith because of the evil leaders. Sheep are such creatures to follow something that, when they do not follow the shepherd, they display great readiness to follow one another.

4. Paul also deplored that ungodliness increased. He says that the profane and vain babblings of his time increased unto more ungodliness.

II. Now let us turn to the subject which supplied Paul with consolation. He speaks of the abiding foundation: “Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure.” What is this foundation which standeth sure? Those who have interpreted the passage have given many meanings to it, but I believe that all those meanings are really one. For the sake of clearness I would give three answers to the inquiry: the foundation is, secretly, the purpose of God; doctrinally, the truth of God; effectively, the Church of God; in all, the system of God whereby He glorifies His grace.

III. Now, we are to look at this foundation and observe the instructive incription. I think this figure best expresses the apostle’s intent; he represents the foundation-stone, as bearing a writing upon it, like the stone mentioned by the prophet Zechariah of which we read, “I will engrave the graving thereof, saith the Lord of hosts, and I will remove the iniquity of that land in one day.” The custom of putting inscriptions upon foundation-stones is ancient and general. In the days of the Pharaohs, the royal cartouche was impressed upon each brick that was placed in buildings raised by royal authority. The structure was thus known to bare been erected by a certain Pharaoh. Here we have the royal cartouche, or seal, of the King of kings set upon the foundation of the great palace of the Church. The House of Wisdom bears on its forefront and foundation the seal of the Lord. The Jews were wont to write texts of Scripture upon the door-posts of their houses; in this also we have an illustration of our text. The Lord has set upon His purpose, His gospel, His truth, the double mark described in the text--the Divine election and the Divine sanctification. This seal is placed to declare that it belongs to the Lord alone, and to set it apart for His personal habitation. If I might use another illustration, I can suppose that when the stones for the temple were quarried in the mountains, each one received a special mark from Solomon’s seal, marking it as a temple stone, and perhaps denoting its place in the sacred edifice. This would be like the first inscription, “The Lord knoweth them that are His.” But the stone would not long lie in the quarry, it would be taken away from its fellows, after being marked for removal. Here is the transport mark in the second inscription: “Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.” The first mark--

1. Is concerning God and us. “The Lord knoweth them that are His.”

2. The text teaches us that the Lord discriminates. Some who bear His name are not His, and He knows them not.

3. “The Lord knoweth them that are His” signifies that He is familiar with them, and communes with them. They that are really the Lord’s property are also the Lord’s company: He has intercourse with them.

4. Further, the words imply God’s preservation of His own; for when God knows a man He approves him, and consequently preserves him. The second seal is concerning us and God--“Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.” Observe how the practical always goes with the doctrinal in holy Scripture. Those whom free grace chooses, free grace cleanses. This is a sweeping precept as to the thing to be avoided: let him “depart from iniquity”--not from this or that crime or folly, but from iniquity itself, item everything that is evil, from everything that is unrighteous or uuholy. The text is very decisive--it does not say, “Let him put iniquity on one side,” but, “Let him depart from it.” Get away from evil. All your lives long travel further and further from it. Do you know where my text originally came from? I believe it was taken from the Book of Numbers. Read in the sixteenth chapter the story of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram. In the Septuagint almost the same words occur as those now before us. The Lord Jesus is exercising discipline in His Church every day. It is no trifling matter to be a Church member, and no small business to be a preacher of the gospel. If you name the name of Christ, you will either be settled in Him or driven from Him. There is continually going on an establishment of living stones upon the foundation, add a separating from it of the rubbish which gathers thereon. (C. H. Spurgeon.)

The stability of God’s purpose

It may be asked, how did it happen that under the direct observation of the apostles themselves, standing as they did on such exclusive ground, acting in the name and by the authority of the Lord Jesus Christ, and clothed with all the awful powers of their high office--how happened it that so many and such dangerous errors arose? It might be permitted--

1. To ascertain the faith and put to the test the obedience of the sincere. There must be heresies that these may be proved and made manifest.

2. To show that the claims of the religion of Jesus Christ are not guided or influenced by secular authority, and that men’s minds are left perfectly free, at liberty to think and determine for themselves.

3. To illustrate the nature of the early discipline of the Christian Church. It was not such as affected men’s properties or lives, as has too frequently been the case where ecclesiastical authority has been felt. Paul put down error by virtue of his authority as an apostle; but we find nothing carnal in any of his proceedings.

4. To furnish occasions for developing more clearly the essentials of Christianity. Three topics of reflection are suggested to us here--

I. The stability of God’s purpose. The idea which we found on this part of the subject is, the certain continuance and continual accomplishment of God’s purposes, spite of all difficulties, oppositions, and enemies. But it has respect chiefly--

1. To the truth of God; and

2. To the Church of God.

II. The special objects of God’s purpose. “The foundation of God standeth sure; having this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are His,” etc.

1. In speaking of the special objects of God’s love, we shall notice chiefly the character under which they are described--they are “His.” This implies knowledge, discrimination, approbation, acknowledgment. They are “His”--His by dedication.

2. His in consequence of a gracious influence on their hearts.

3. His in consequence of an interest in Christ. But this question is naturally suggested: How are we to determine whether we are His? How are we to know that we belong to the number of the called, and chosen, and faithful? The answer is ready--“Let every one that nameth the name of Christ, depart from iniquity,” and this leads us--

III. To consider the Holy character which ought to result from Christian principles. Consider here--

1. The profession assumed. They “name the name of Christ.” This includes in it an admission of His authority--a reception of His doctrines--a public avowal of their sentiments and convictions.

2. The obligation enjoined. Let him “depart from iniquity.” To depart from iniquity is to hate it--to be habitually opposed to the commission of it--to avoid it with the greatest circumspection--to seek and pursue whatever is opposed to it.

3. This is enjoined by the authority of Him whose name we bear. Can we think on that holy name without calling to mind the purity it should inspire? He gave Himself for us that He might redeem us from all iniquity. Think of His character--it was holy and heavenly: of His doctrines--every word of God is pure: of His institutions--they are all designed to promote our sanctification: of the great ends and designs of His government--these are all connected with our purity. There is not a doctrine, not a testimony, not a precept which Christ has laid down, not a promise which He has caused to be recorded, which does not lead to the inculcation of holiness. On all parts of the Christian system we see inscribed, “Be ye holy, for I am holy.”

4. This is enforced by the peculiar discoveries of revelation. Can you mention a doctrine which does not lead to holiness?

5. This departure from iniquity is an essential and constituent part of the salvation of the gospel.

6. This is provided for by the continual agency of the Holy Spirit.

7. This is the design of all gospel institutions.

8. This is the great end of all providential dispensations.

9. It is that without which all our professions would be nullified and useless. (J. Fletcher, D. D.)

What is religion

We have come in our day into times precisely like those of the apostle, in which there is a great movement throughout the whole civilised world, and a great change of feeling, either of apprehension or of words, in regard to the stability of the Christian religion. I declare that the essential elements of Christianity were never so apparent as to-day; that they were never so influential; that they were never so likely to produce institutions of power; that they never had such a hold on human reason and human conscience; and that the religious impulse of the human race was never so deep and never so strong in its current. In the first place, then, we must recollect that there may be very great changes around about religion, in its external forms, without any essential interior change, nay, even with the augmentation of its interior power. Some men think that anything which is a revelation from God must be always one and the same thing; but God’s revelation is alphabetic; it is a revelation of letters, and they can be combined and recombined in ten thousand different words, varying endlessly. The great facts which are fundamental to consciousness, once being given, are alphabetic; and these facts may be combined; and with the development of the human race in intelligence and moral excellence they go on taking new forms, and larger experiences must have a larger expression. It is said that men do not believe in virtue. Well, when a man tells me that the refinements of the schoolmen are lapsing on questions which relate to eternal regeneration through the Son of God, and that many of the fine distinctions between ability natural and ability spiritual are going outer men’s thoughts and out of much use, I admit it; but I say that the great fundamental truths of religion, namely, the nature of man, the wants of man, and Divine love as a sufficient supply for human wants--instead of growing weaker are growing stronger in men’s minds. After all the pother that is made about the doctrines of human depravity, and the need of regeneration by the power of the Holy Ghost, are they not true? Men kick them about like so many footballs; but do they not recognise them as true when they are stated in a different way from that in which they have been accustomed to hear them stated, and in a way which is suited to the experience of our times? Men think these truths are passing out of the world; but I say they are simply taking another form of exposition. The truths themselves are inherent, universal, indestructible. Religion is not one thing. It means the moving of the human soul rightly toward God, toward man, and toward duty. He who is using his whole self according to laws of God is religious. Some men think that devotion is religion. Yes, devotion is religion; but it is not all of religion. Here is a tune written in six parts, and men are wrangling and quarrelling about it. One says that the harmony is in the bass, another that it is in the soprano, another that it is in the tenor, and another that it is in the alto; but I say that it is in all the six parts. Each may, in and of itself, be better than nothing; but it requires the whole six parts to make what was meant by the musical composer. Some men say that love is religion. Well, love is certainly the highest element of it: but it is not that alone. Justice is religion; fidelity is religion; hope is religion; faith is religion; obedience is religion. These are all part and parcel of religion. Religion is as much as the total of manhood, and it takes in every element of it. All the elements of man hood, in their right place and action, are constituent parts of religion; but no one of them alone is religion. It takes the whole manhood, imbued and inspired of God, moving right both heavenward and earthward, to constitute religion. I ask you to consider what religion is according to the definition of Paul--“The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.” I do not care whether a man whitewashes or blackwashes his fence, or whether he uses guano or barn-yard manure, or what his mode of cultivation may be, the question is, Does he get good fruit? If he does, his method is good. Now, I take it that the apostle is speaking of religion when he speaks of the fruit of the Spirit; and the fruit of the Spirit is what? Orthodoxy? Oh, no. Conscience? Not a bit of it. One of the fruits of the Spirit is love; and is love dead? Another fruit of the Spirit is joy; and is joy gone? Peace, the strangest of fruits--is it not slowly coming to be that which is the unison of all other qualities with blessedness in the soul? Ye, then, who mourn because particular modes are changing, and think that religion is dying out, look deeper, and pluck up hope out of your despair, and confidence out of your fear; and to you that think religion is going away because of science, let me say that science is the handmaid of religion. It is the John Baptist, oftentimes, that clears the way for true religion. By religion I do not mean outward things, but inward states. I mean perfected manhood. I mean the quickening of the soul by the beatific influence of the Divine Spirit in truth, and love, and sympathy, and confidence, and trust. That is not dying out. (H. W. Beecher.)

The sure foundations

It is the nature of truth, as it is developed by human intelligence and used for practical purposes, to gather to itself instruments and institutions. The permanence of great fundamental truths, and the infinite variability of the exponents of truth, in the form of law, custom, philosophical statement--these are the two great truths with which we are to expound the past history of religion in the world, and by which also we are to prepare the way for its development in the days that are to come. After a while men lose sight of the truth in the instruments of it. They cease to worship the thing, and worship its exponent; so that, by-and-by, it is not the truth that men follow so much as its institutions. And so, as soon as this takes place, men, following their senses and their lower nature, begin a process of idolatry, of professionalism; and they become worshippers of the sensuous. So it comes to pass that all religions tend on the one side downward, and on the other side upward. The tendency to carry on truth to a higher and nobler form co-exists with another tendency to hold the truth in just the same confined forms with which it has hitherto been served. And so Churches find in themselves the elements of explosion and of controversy. Then comes revolution or reformation. Then comes sectarianism, or the principle, rather, from which sects grow. Now, in the time of St. Paul, vast changes were taking place. Mosaism, or religion as developed through the instrumentality of Mosaic institutions, had ripened and gone to seed, and was passing away; and in so far as the Gentile world was concerned, there was no further attempt on the part of the apostles to teach religion by the old forms and under the old methods. If you turn your eyes toward the Greek nation, which was the thinking nation of the world, they had knowledge, philosophy and art, but they had no moral sense. If you turn to the Roman empire, there was organisation, there was law, and an effete idolatry. Now came Christianity. But Christi-unity in itself, in its very origin, was vexed with schisms, with disputings; and it was in the midst of these confusions that Paul made the declaration of our text, that “the foundation of God standeth sure.” No matter what this man thinks, or that man teaches; no matter what shadows come or go, be sure of one thing--that the immutable foundations of religion stand. They will not be submerged permanently, nor will they rot in the ground; and they have this seal or superscription, written, as it were, on the corner-stone: “The Lord knoweth them that are His.” There is the great truth of Divine existence, and intelligence, and active interference in human affairs. God is not blotted out by men’s doubts, or reasonings, or philosophies, themselves caused by the interpenetration of Divine thought upon human intelligence. “God knoweth them that are His.” “Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.” That is the other seal--aspiration for goodness; departure from all evil; an earnest, thorough and persistent seeking after a godly manhood. There are the two elements. There are fundamental elements in a Christian Church which we ought to speak of, and which we ought to mean when we speak of fundamental doctrines, and there are those which are necessary for the formation of the individual character, and for the transformation of man from an animal to a spiritual being. These are the fundamental truths which stand connected with the existence, government, and power of God in the world; and also with the organised development of human nature, that it may rise toward God. Now, it so happens that there are a great many things fundamental to theology which are not at all fundamental to human nature; and it so happens, on the other side, that there are in human nature a great many things which are fundamental to the organisation of a noble and manly character, but are hardly recognisable in theology at all. We ought, then, to clear our minds of the misuse of the term fundamental doctrines. No doctrines are fundamental except those that teach the Divine existence and government, or that teach the condition and wants of human nature, and its reconstruction, its re-organisation into Christian manhood. Men cannot live without religion. They cannot be men without it. The State calls for it; art calls for it; home and domesticity call for it; the voice of mankind and the voice of the ages have called and are calling for it; and they are either ignorant or cowardly who fear that any great disaster is going to befall religion in consequence of the progress which is taking place in the investigation of truth. Do you believe in a providence? Is this great world floating without a rudder, without a pilot or a captain? is time made up of chance-drifts? or is there a God? If there is a God, has He a future, and is He steering time and the race towards that future? And will He sleep or forget, and allow the race to run to ruin? The Word of God, the foundations of God, stand sure. Now, this general fear will lead us to take into Consideration the necessity of a closer union and affiliation of true Christian people. It seems to me what we need is, not to go back to old systems, or to cling to the old Churches, but simply this: that we should search for the great fundamental facts and truths which stand connected with the development of human nature from animalism to spirituality, and work together on these common grounds. Not that I would abolish ordinances, days, or institutions. I say to every sect, “Act according to your belief in regard to these things. Keep your theory; ordain as you think best; organise as you think best; let your ordinances be such as you think best; make your philosophical systems such as you think best; but stand with your brethren. Do not let the veins of your life run just as far as the walls of your church, and then come back again; let them go forth throughout Christendom.” (H. W. Beecher.)

The foundations of the Christian faith

The scepticism which we have to meet to-day concerns itself not with specific doctrine, but with the very roots and foundation of Christian faith itself. Time was when t, he foundation of Christian faith was the authority of the Church. The authority of the Church as the foundation of Christian faith has passed away. Nor is the Bible, the printed Book, in any true and profound sense the foundation of our Christian faith. Underneath the Bible there is a foundation on which the Bible itself rests. Now modern thought proposes, in lieu of these two foundations, another, the human reason, and it asks us to bring all our questionings and our faiths to the bar of the intellect, and have them adjudged and determined there. I shall not stop to argue whether reason be a sufficient foundation for our Christian faith; but I undertake to say that it is not the foundation of our Christian faith, and that we believe not because things are asserted by the Church, not merely because they are printed in the Book, not merely because they commend themselves to our reason. Deep down in the human life there is yet a foundation underneath all these. We do not object to bringing all Christian faiths to the bar of reason. We believe our Christian faith is not unreasonable; but there are truths which are not arrived at by argumentative processes; they are not reached by processes of logic; they are not demonstrated; they are known. AEsthetic truths, we do not prove them, we see them. All our moral beliefs rest on this foundation; we do not argue them, we know them. Love, patriotism, honesty, justice, truth, by what chemical processes will you analyse these? How will you put them into the scales and weigh them; by what logical demonstration will you prove they exist? Now that which is true in respect of all the aesthetic elements of life, that which is true in respect of the moral element of life is true in respect of the great spiritual realm. Our articles of Christian faith rest on our vital, personal, living experience in them. Why do I believe in God? Why do you believe in your mother? You have seen her. I beg your pardon; you never saw your mother. You have seen the eyes, the forehead, the cheeks, the face--that is not mother. If that be mother, then why, when the form lies prostrate, and you press the kiss upon the lips, and they give no answering kiss back, and you press the hand, and it gives no answering pressure back, why burst you into tears? Why wring your hands with grief? The lips are there, the brow is there, the cheeks are there, all that you ever saw is there. But mother is gone; and love, patience, fidelity, self-sacrifice, long-suffering--that is what makes the mother that you loved--that you have never seen. And we believe in God because we have known the tenderness of His love, because in times of great weakness He has strengthened us, and in times of great sorrow He has comforted us, and in times of great darkness He has guided us, because we have known in our inmost experience the power that is of God in life’s struggle. Why do you believe in immortality? It is not because of the philosophical arguments that have been addressed to you; it is not because of the proof texts you can find in the Scriptures; we know that we are immortal, as the bird knows that it has power to fly while yet it lies in its nest, and waits for the moment when it shall soar off into the invisible air. There is no better argument for immorality than that of the French Christian to his deistical friend. When the deist had finished a long scholastic argument, the Christian Frenchman replied, with a shrug of the shoulders, “Probably you are right; you are not immortal, but I am.” Now, when this view of the foundation of the Christian faith is employed, men sometimes object to it and say, “You are appealing to our feelings, you are not willing to test Christian truth where all truth must be tested, in the clear light of reason; you are appealing to our feelings, to our prepossessions, to our desires, to our sentiments.” Not at all. I am putting our Christian faith on that foundation on which all our knowledge and all our belief rest, albeit our Christian faith stands closer to the foundation than anything else. All that science has taught us, all that travel, all that history, all that observation, either of our own or observations of others, all is based, in the analysis, upon this--the truthfulness either of our own personal consciousness, or of the consciousness of others. Now, we carry in our hearts the consciousness of a Divine presence outside ourselves. We look upon this life of Christ, and it stirs within us a new and a Divine life. We know the power there is in the pardoning and atoning grace of the Lord Jesus Christ. Why do we believe the Bible is an inspired Book? Because it is an inspiring Book, because it has given us comfort that no other book ever did, life that no other book ever gave, strength that no other book ever gave, because in our own personal use and experience of it it has been the life of God in our hearts. Moreover, our Christian faith rests not merely upon our own consciousness, it rests upon the concurrent consciousness of innumerable witnesses. But mark you one thing more. Our Christian faith rests on our consciousness, on the concurrent consciousness of witnesses verified by actual testimony. Christianity is not a theory. It proposes to do something for me. Compare old Rome with England or America of to-day with all our vices, with all our shortcomings, with all our corruptions, and behold what is the answer of history to the claim that Christ has made. Why, when Mr. Morse first proposed the magnetic telegraph it was not strange that men were sceptical. When he said “By touching a little key here I communicate a message to a man a thousand miles yonder,” no wonder that wise and conservative people shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders, and said, “Impossible!” But when the wire had been laid from Washington to Baltimore, and the first message was flashed through that wire, “Behold what God hath wrought,” how could any man doubt when the work was achieved? Some of you will say, “Ah! this will not give us a well-defined theology.” Well, perhaps not. But who can stand and look out into the vast future, and define immortality? Who can look up into the heavens and define God? Who can look into his own soul and define there the sins that have oppressed him, or the Saviour that has redeemed him from them? No, no; our experiences do transcend all our definitions, being beyond them. And some of you will say, “This is well for those of you that have this experience, but I have it not.” Is that any reason why you should not believe? Now, let us reason this matter one moment. Because you do not enjoy the music of Beethoven will you therefore conclude that all musical enjoyment is a myth? Because you, standing on the deck of an Atlantic steamer, cannot see the light of the far-distant lighthouse which the ship captain with his better trained eye does see, will you conclude that he is mistaken and you are right? If it be true that there is a testimony coming from innumerable hosts of witnesses to the reality of God’s presence, to the certainty of immortality, to the inspiration of God’s Book, to the vital saving power of a living Christ, will you reject the light because you are blind? Will you deny the truth because you see it not? A father and his son stand on the shores of the Bay of Fundy. A great tidal wave forty feet in height comes roiling in, when the boy catches the father’s hand in terror, and cries, “Run, father, run; the ocean is going to wash us away.” The father looks and smiles upon the lad, and says, “Wait, wait.” The great wave dashes itself into innumerable atoms of foam upon the great rock, and sweeps back into the ocean. And when this tidal wave of scepticism shall have expended its force it will be found broken into innumerable atoms of foam at the foot of a rock which shall stand through all the future, as in all the past, the Rock of Ages. (L. Abbott. D. D.)

The Lord knoweth them that are His.

All God’s people favourites

It is said of Tiberius, the emperor, that he never denied his favourite Sejanus anything, and often prevented his request; so that he needed only to ask and give thanks. All God’s people are His favourites, and may have all that their hearts can wish, or their need require. (J. Trapp.)

Affectionate remembrance

At Bury St. Edmunds, I went to the infirmary of the workhouse, where, amongst other patients in bed, I conversed with an old m an, who, if I remember rightly, was over eighty years of age. As it lay outside the counterpane, I noticed that his arm from the elbow to the wrist was covered, after the manner of sailors’ tattooing, with numerous letters. On asking him what they were, he said, “Why, you see, sir, I’ve had nine children, and all are gone; some I know be dead, and some I don’t know whether they be dead or alive, but they’re all the same to me; I shall never see any of them again in this world. But I’ve got all their initials here on my arm; and it’s a comfort to me as I lie here to look at ‘em and think of ‘em.” It was all that this poor old man could do for his sons; but he held them in affectionate remembrance, though he needed not the sight of their initials to remember them by. Our heavenly Father knoweth and taketh pleasure in all them that are His. He bears them all on His heart, and His power to help and to bless them is as great as His wealth of love. (B. Clarke.)

Hidden Christians

There are stars set in the heavens by the hand of God, whose light has never reached the eye of man; gems lie covered in the dark abysses of earth that have never yet been discovered by the research of man; flowers which have grown in blushing beauty before the sun, that have never been seen by the florist; so there may be Christians, made such by God, who are hidden from the knowledge of this world. (John Bate.)

Unknown, yet well known

Many of the greatest saints have lived and died unknown and uncared for by the world. These are God’s secret ones, unknown to men, well-known to God. About some of the saints and apostles we hear much; the lives and works of St. Paul and St. Peter are familiar to us all. It is not so with St. Bartholomew, and yet none of the martyrs worked more faithfully, or suffered more severely. He who laboured so successfully for Christ, and suffered so severely, is only mentioned four times in the New Testament, and then very slightly. There is no word to record his hard toil, his burning love, his patient suffering, and his noble death. And so it is with many of the greatest of God’s saints. No one knows the name of Naaman’s little servant, who brought her master to God. The names of the Holy Innocents appear in no earthly book. That pious widow who gave all she had to the Temple is not named; and there are thousands of others, who though “unknown, are well known to God, whose names are not written on earth, but are written in heaven. There are many who are now living for God, and working for Him, and suffering for Him, of whom this world knows nothing. There will not be, perhaps, a paragraph about them in the newspapers, but “the Lord knoweth them that are His.” God has hidden saints in everyplace, dwelling under cottage thatch, as well as in great houses. These are the gems which no earthly eye has ever valued, but they will shine none the less brightly on that day when God makes up His jewels. (H. J. Wilmot-Buxton, M. A.)

The Lord knoweth them that are His

The Church at Ephesus, at a very early age, suffered from that stumbling-block--the “falling away” of professors. Oh! I do not wonder at the pain and the perplexity which the young missionary at Ephesus seemed to feel, at the thought of “the falling away” of many whom he had been wont to teach, and love, and hope, and pray for. But mark the delightful emphasis of that “nevertheless”--“Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure.” Perhaps, of those who set out with you on the road to heaven, some years ago, it may have been your painful lot to see one after another stop, lie down, and go to sleep, and die. “Nevertheless, nevertheless! the foundation of God standeth sure.” Or, look again at that “nevertheless.” One by one the friendships and the happinesses of life have been melting away from you. And now every idol has been pulled down; and now almost the only hope of your earthly support is gone: oh! with what sweetness at such amoment will that thought come back to you, “Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure!” You have a Friend that never can leave you. Or it may come closer than this. It may please God to bring trial more home to your heart. He may lead you through a long, dark cloud, where it may seem to you as if every trace of comfort was obliterated for ever,--“Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure.” Beneath the feet the “foundation” stands. The building may fall, but the “corner-stone” is safe. There is pardon; though there is no sense of it. There is faith; though there is not “the joy in believing.” There is Christ; though there is not the feeling of Christ. That cloud will roll over, and when the morning breaks, it will light up that “foundation,” brighter, clearer, and more saving, for ever. For “Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure.” You see, then, that the whole of a man’s peace and all his security depend upon this,--What is his “foundation”? It is the plainest of all plain Scriptural truths, that the only “foundation” of any soul’s safety is the Lord Jesus Christ. “Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Christ Jesus.” “Other foundation” may have a momentary peace; but this only can support the super-structure for eternity. Now this truth the apostle carries out into a little more detail. In order to do it, his mind borrows an image from a ceremony common at the commencement of the erection of a public building, when a king, as he lays the foundation-stone, sets upon it the impression of the royal seal. In like manner, as if to give the believer’s hope a two-fold security, God is said not only to “lay the foundation,” but to “seal” it; and when He “seals” it, He seals it to Himself, by the “oath” with which He “confirms it”; and to the believer, by the Spirit in which He gives it. Now, that “seal,” with which God stamps every converted soul, is two-fold. Or, to speak more accurately, it is a single “seal” which has two faces. Accordingly, on the heart of every child of God, on the ground of it, there will be found two inscriptions, which the hand or” seal” of God has engraven there. In other words, there are two fundamental principles which God has placed there. The one stands out clear, legible, and large--“The Lord knoweth them that are His.” And the other is like unto it--“Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.” The “seal” must have been twice stamped--both inscriptions must have been there--before the soul is safe, and stands quite “sure.” Now, let us look at the two sides of that “seal”; first, separate; and then together.

I. The first in the relation, as also the first that is laid upon the heart, is the impression of God’s love. “The Lord knoweth them that are His.” This records that truth of truths on which the whole gospel rests, as upon one base--that salvation is all of God’s eternal, sovereign love. This must be held by every man who wishes to enjoy the peace of God: that it was God who “knew” me, loved me, and cared for me, and drew me long before I ever had any thoughts of Him. The whole of a man’s safety depends upon this: “The Lord knew” me from all eternity; “the Lord knew” me when He drew me to Himself; “the Lord knows” me now--all my little thoughts and works: “the Lord knows” I am trying to serve Him; “the Lord knows” I wish to love Him. But as the one side of God’s “seal” is privilege, the other is duty.

II. The one is God’s love, the other is your holiness. “Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.” The two sides must never be divided. But as the stamp of God’s love is laid, so must the stamp of man’s obedience be laid. God’s love first, to teach that there can be no real obedience till there is first a sense of God’s love. Feelings often have deceived us, and they will deceive again. But the question is, practically, Are you “departing from iniquity”? Observe the expression. It is not one single act; but it is a gradual, progressive retiring back from evil, because, more and more, the good prevails. Now, bow is it? Say you have conquered the acts of sin, have you conquered the desires? Say you have conquered the desires, have you conquered the thoughts? Do you think that your temper is being every day more subdued? Is your pride lessened? Your worldliness, and your covetousness--are they receding? Would your own family--would your own dearest friend have cause to say, that you are growing every day in grace? Is it a “seal,” think you, that can be “read of all men” upon you? Could they see it exemplified? (J. Vaughan, M. A.)

Inscription on foundation stones

The figure is probably drawn from the practice of engraving inscriptions on one or both sides of the foundation-stone. So, in Revelation 21:14, the names of the twelve apostles are found on the twelve foundations of the mystical Jerusalem. “The Lord knoweth them that are His.” Not as expressing the knowledge that flows from an inscrutable decree, but, as in 1Co 8:3; 1 Corinthians 13:12; John 10:14, the knowledge, implying love and approval, which Christ has of those who are truly His. This represents one side of the life of the believer, but, lest men interpret the truth wrongly, the other side also needs to be put forward, and that is found in personal holiness. (E. H. Plumptre, D. D.)

The chosen known to God

“The Lord knoweth them that are His” is a citation from the Septuagint of Numbers 16:5, and a moment’s consideration will show bow appositely the apostle quotes this passage. Korah, Dathan, and Abiram had gathered themselves together against Moses on the plea of the holiness of the whole congregation: “all the congregation,” they said, “are holy, every one of them, and the Lord is among them: wherefore then lift ye yourselves up above the congregation of the Lord?” Hero then certain bad men had got hold of a true principle, but were applying it wrongly and rebelliously. It was quite true that all the congregation were holy, but it was also true that God had especially sanctified the sons of Levi above the remainder of His people. Korah and his company came forward with specious pretensions to superior spirituality; they asserted that all the people of Israel were priests of God--a great truth in itself, but not, therefore, to supersede another truth, viz., that God had chosen a certain tribe to be specially His priests. So Hymenaeus and Philetus asserted a great truth, viz., the nature and importance of the spiritual resurrection; but because they so asserted it as to supersede by it another plainly revealed truth, they undermined and overthrew the very faith itself, and proved themselves to be the children of Satan, and not of God. (M. F. Sadler, M. A.)

Inconspicuous lives related to heaven

In modern times it has been found out that, by a wise adaptation of electricity, an organ can be played many miles away, under certain conditions. If the keyboard is connected with the battery, and the wires run, no matter how far, even hundreds and thousands of miles--if the battery be properly charged and the wires run, say, to New Orleans, the organist sitting here may thunder there the majestic tones of an anthem. And if you consider that the human soul is a battery, and that all its wires run into the heavenly land, there are many inconspicuous persons living in the world of whom we see and hear and know nothing, but from whom to heaven wires go, and around whose souls are angel assemblies gathered together chanting joyful songs; and there are many men a knowledge of whom the telegraph wires are busy communicating, and about whose fame the newspapers pile telegraph upon telegraph; there ate many noisy men respecting whom there is much ado made on earth, but there is not a single wire that runs between them and the other life. (H. W. Beecher.)

God’s knowledge of His children

I remember a story of Mr. Mack, who was a Baptist minister in Northamptonshire. In his youth he was a soldier, and calling on Robert Hall, when his regiment marched through Leicester, that great man became interested in him, and procured his release from the ranks. When he went to preach in Glasgow he sought out his aged mother, whom he had not seen for many years. He knew his mother the moment he saw her, but the old lady did not recognise her son. It so happened that, when he was a child, his mother had accidentally wounded his wrist with a knife. To comfort him she cried, “Never mind, my bonnie bairn, your mither will ken you by that when you are a man.” When Mack’s mother would not believe that a grave, fine-looking minister could be her own child, he turned up his sleeve and cried, “Mither, mither, diona ye ken that?” In a moment they were in each other’s arms. All, the Lord knows the spot of His children! He acknowledges them by the mark of correction. What God is to us in the why of trouble and trial is but His acknowledgment of us as true heirs, and the marks of His rod shall be our proof that we are true sons. He knows the wounds He made when exercising His sacred surgery. (A. Maclaren, D. D.)

Pretended spirituality

It is as if Paul said, “Here are false teachers who, under a show of great spirituality, have overthrown the faith of some in the Ch4) Perseverance.

3. The faithful steward, lie had--

(1) embraced,

(2) lived,

(3) spread,

(4) defended the truth.

II. Great tranquillity in regard to the trials of life.

1. His knowledge of them.

(1) Of their honours--“To be offered.” Martyrdom.

(2) Of their nearness--“Is at hand.”

2. His preparedness for them--“Ready.”

3. His benefit by them--“Departure.”

III. Glorious expectation in regard to the reward of life.

1. In value it will be the highest possible. “Crowns.”

2. In principle it will be the most indisputable. “Crown of righteousness.”

3. In bestowal it will be the most honourable.

(1) Given by the Highest Being.

(2) On the most august occasion.

(3) In association with the most distinguished company. (B. D. Johns.)

Paul’s review of his life

I. The past filled him with satisfaction.

1. He had been a warrior. And his contest was with no phantom or abstraction; not with a mere principle of evil, employed without will or intelligence, but with a real enemy. Paul evidently acted continually under the impression that he was in an enemy’s country,--that he was watched by an invisible foe, resisted by a being mightier than priest or prince. He recognised a terrible unity in sin--an energy and ubiquity which are angelic. He considered himself an officer in an army which has regiments contending in battlefields far away from this earth. Paul’s enemy was God’s enemy. He had no quarrels of ambition, or revenge, or covetousness, or pride, to settle. His eye was fixed on the prince who led the revolt in heaven, and had brought it down to earth. Against him Paul proclaimed an open and uncompromising war--a war of extermination; and he extended it to everything that enlisted under Satan. Hence it began in his own heart, against the traitors long entertained there; and with them he proclaimed an unrelenting war.

2. He had been a racer, also. What was the goal? It was, to attain and accomplish the highest ends man can seek; the highest personal perfection consistent with being on earth; attaining, as he styles it, “to the resurrection of the dead”; the exalting Christ among men; the leading men to him; the confirmation of the Churches in their faith; the leaving behind him writings which should be the means of glorifying God, edifying His people, and converting men, to the end of time. He had aimed at these achievements; and, by the grace of God, he had accomplished them.

3. He had been a steward. His life presented in this aspect a trust discharged. “I have kept the faith.”

II. A future filled with blessedness. He had honoured his Redeemer, and he knew that Christ would honour him. He looked for “a crown.” It has been a common thing in the world’s history to contend for a crown. The Christian hero here stands on the level of the earthly hero. But, when we come to compare the nature of these respective crowns, the character of their conflicts, and the umpires to whom the warriors look, the Christian rises to an elevation infinitely above the earthly hero. There is nothing selfish in the war, the victory, or the coronation. (E. N. Kirk, D. D.)

Paul the hero

I. Here is a man whose entire being is under the supremacy of conscience. With other men con science often has theoretical supremacy; with St. Paul its reign was actual. Other men may waver and fluctuate in their obedience to its behests; St. Paul is held to this central power as steadily as the planets to the sun. There was no sham about this man. What he seemed to be, that he was. What he declared to another, that his inmost soul commended as truth and attested to its own secret tribunal.

II. His life was also under the dominion of another regnant power--the supremacy of an overmastering purpose. Every man needs the inspiration of a great purpose and a great mission to lift him above the pettiness and cheapness which are the bane of ordinary lives. Some great undertaking, with an element of heroism and moral sublimity in it, the very contemplation of which quickens the blood and fires the soul and awakens an ever-present sense of the dignity and significance of life- this is an essential condition of all great achievement. Such an inspiring purpose and ennobling work stirred the heart and stimulated the powers of St. Paul. Though nothing low had previously ruled or influenced him, it happened to him- as it has to many another man at his conversion--that the supreme purpose of life was formed in that supreme hour when the transforming touch of the Divine hand was felt upon the soul, and life’s sublime work opened before the clarified vision.

III. But the supremacy of conscience and of a great purpose are not sufficient in themselves alone to produce such a character and such a life as St. Paul presents for our study. To these two ruling forces must be added another--greater than either, and co-ordinate with both--the supremacy of an all-conquering faith. Christ to him was not a myth, not merely the incomparable Teacher of Galilee, not the theoretic and historic Saviour of men; He was infinitely more than that, the ever-present Partner of his life, the unfailing Source of his strength. His faith perpetually saw this personal Jesus, felt the warm beating of His loving heart, heard His sacred voice in solemn command or inspiring promise, and walked with Him as with an earthly friend. As well separate the spirit from the body, the beating heart from the respiring lungs, as separate this inspired apostle from this inspiring Christ. Anything is possible to such a man. Indeed, it is no longer a question of human ability at all, but of human co-operation with the Divine Christ- the natural man giving the supernatural agency full play and power. (C. H. Payne, D. D.)

I have finished my course.--

The Christian’s course

I. We are to consider the way or path in which the Christian is to run.

1. The way in which the Christian is to run is a way of faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.

2. The way the Christian is to run is a way of holiness (Psalms 119:32; 1 Thessalonians 4:7). Christians, in proceeding on this course, do it not with the same life and vigour; some appear cold and indifferent, whilst others are quick and lively; some make great advances, whilst others go on by slow degrees. Some begin the heavenly race soon, in the bloom of life, whilst others loiter till towards the evening of their days.

II. We now come to consider how we are to run, that we may finish our course with advantage.

1. That we may run the Christian race well, it is necessary that we cast off every weight.

2. We must begin and continue in a dependence upon Christ.

3. We must run with patience, courage, and resolution.

4. We must be watchful and diligent. Be upon your guard, Christian, the way you run is difficult, and it is attended with many snares and temptations.

5. We must keep pressing forward and persevere to the end of our course. You may meet with many discouragements, but still keep on, the further you go, the less ground remains to be trod, therefore let not your hearts be troubled.

III. The encouragement Christians have to run this race.

1. There is a glorious crown before us.

2. He that begins aright shall at length certainly finish his course.

3. Every one that finishes his course shall as surely receive the prize. To conclude, with some improvement of the point.

(1) The further-we proceed in our text, the more we see the difficulty of the Christian life, and the vanity of their hopes who content themselves with a mere form.

(2) How foolish are all those that run after perishing enjoyments, and neglect the prize of immortality.

(3) What arguments are there for running this race.

(4) How should every one that has begun this race rejoice in the encouragements that have been offered. (S. Hayward.)

The finished race

To this end we must run--

1. Rightly.

2. Speedily.

3. Patiently.

4. Cheerfully.

5. Circumspectly.

6. Resolutely.

7. Perseveringly. (T. Hall, B. D.)

Best at last

In our Christian course it is but too generally and too truly observed, that as we grow older we grow colder; we become more slack, remiss, and weary in well doing. The reverse ought to be the case, for the reason assigned by the apostle when stirring up his converts to vigour and zeal and alacrity: he says,” For now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.” In a race the push is made at last. (Bishop Horne.)

I have kept the faith.--

Keeping the faith

What does St. Paul mean by the faith which he has kept? Is he rejoicing that he has been true to a certain scheme of doctrine, or that he has preserved a certain temper of soul and spiritual relationship to God? For the term “faith” is a very large one. There can be no doubt, I think, that he means both, and that the latter meaning is a very deep and important one, as we shall see. But this term, “the faith,” did signify for him, beyond all doubt, a certain group of truths, all bound together by their common unity of source and unity of purpose. Paul was too wise and profound not to keep this always in sight. That there must be intellectual conceptions as the base of strong, consistent, and effective feeling is a necessity which he continually recognises; and the faith which he is thankful to have kept is, first of all, that truth which had been made known to him and to the Church by God. The first thing, then, that strikes us is that, when Paul said that he had kept the faith, he evidently believed that there was a faith to keep. The faith was a body of truth given to him, which he had to hold and to use and to apply, but which he had not made and was not to improve. We want, then, to consider the condition of one who, having thus learned and held a positive faith, continues to hold it--holds it to the end. He keeps the faith. We need not confirm our thought to St. Paul. An old man is dying, and as he lets go the things which are trivial and accidental to lay hold of what is essential and important to him, this is what comes to his mind with special satisfaction: “I have kept the faith.” The true faith which a man has kept up to the end of his life must be one that has opened with his growth and constantly won new reality and colour from his changing experience. The old man does believe what the child believed; but how different it is, though still the same. It is the field that once held the seed, now waving and rustling under the autumn wind with the harvest that it holds, yet all the time it has kept the corn. The joy of his life has richened his belief. His sorrow has deepened it. His doubts have sobered it. His enthusiasms have fired it. His labour has purified it. This is the work that life does upon faith. This is the beauty of an old man’s religion. His doctrines are like the house that he has lived in, rich with associations which make it certain that he will never move out of it. His doctrines have been illustrated and strengthened and endeared by the good help they have given to his life. And no doctrine that has not done this can be really held up to the end with any such vital grasp as will enable us to carry it with us through the river, and enter with it into the new life beyond. And again, is it not true that any belief which we really keep up to the end of life must at some time have become for us a personal conviction, resting upon evidence of its own? I know, indeed, how much a merely traditional religion will inspire men to do. I know that for a faith which is not really theirs, but only what they call it, “their fathers’ faith,” men will dispute and argue, make friendships and break them, contribute money, undertake great labours, change the whole outward tenor of their life. I know that men will suffer for it. I am not sure but they will die to uphold a creed to which they were born, and with which their own character for firmness and consistency has become involved. All this a traditional faith can do. It can do everything except one, and that it can never do. It can never feed a spiritual life, and build a man up in holiness and grace. Before it can do that our fathers’ faith must first by strong personal conviction become ours. And here I think that, rightly seen, the culture of our Church asserts its wisdom. The Church has in herself the very doctrine of tradition. She teaches the child a faith that has the warrant of the ages, full of devotion and of love. She calls on him to believe doctrines of which he cannot be convinced as yet. The tradition, the hereditation of belief, the unity of the human history, are ideas very familiar to her, of which she constantly and beautifully makes use. And yet she does not disown her work of teaching and arguing and convincing. She cannot, and yet be true to her mission. She teaches the young with the voice of authority; she addresses the mature with the voice of reason. And now have we not reached some idea of the kind of faith which it is possible for a man to keep? What sort of a creed may one hold and expect to hold it always, live in it, die in it, and carry it even to the life beyond?

1. In the first place, it must be a creed broad enough to allow the man to grow within it, to contain and to supply his ever-developing mind and character. It will not be a creed burdened with many details. It will consist of large truths and principles, capable of ever-varying applications to ever-varying life. So only can it be clear, strong, positive, and yet leave the soul free to grow within it, nay, feed the soul richly and minister to its growth.

2. And the second characteristic of the faith that can be kept will be its evidence, its proved truth. It will not be a mere aggregation of chance opinions. The reason why a great many people seem to be always changing their faith is that they never really have any faith. They have indeed what they call a faith, and are often very positive about it. They have gathered together a number of opinions and fancies, often very ill-considered, which they say that they believe, using the deep and sacred word for a very superficial and frivolous action of their wills. They no more have a faith than the city vagrant has a home who sleeps upon a different door-step every night. And yet he does sleep somewhere every night; and so these wanderers among the creeds at each given moment are believing something, although that something is for ever altering. We do not properly believe what we only think. A thousand speculations come into our heads, and our minds dwell upon them, which are not to be therefore put into our creed, however plausible they seem. Our creed, our credo, anything which we call by such a sacred name, is not what we have thought, but what our Lord has told us. The true creed must come down from above, and not out from within. (Bp. Phillips Brooks.)

On keeping the faith

I. What is meant by keeping the faith.

1. It may signify that we firmly believe the doctrines God has revealed, and steadfastly maintain them. We read of a “faith once delivered to the saints” (Jude 1:3). These, therefore, coming from God are certainly worthy of our credit, deserve our notice, and ought to be steadfastly maintained by us.

2. The expression signifies that we faithfully observe the vows and engagements we have brought ourselves under, to our glorious Master, and hold on with integrity and constancy in His service.

II. The necessity and importance of keeping the faith.

1. It is the distinguishing characteristic of a real Christian. That profession that is not set upon good principles will never hold.

2. In keeping the faith, the Christian’s comfort is greatly promoted. The glorious doctrines of faith are of the most excellent nature; they abundantly recompense the Christian in his steady belief of and attachment to them, by the unspeakable supports they yield in every circumstance and station of life.

3. Keeping the faith is necessary to promote the honour of Christ, and to secure the Christian from those errors and snares to which he stands exposed.

4. Without a steadfast perseverance in the faith our hopes of heaven are vain and deceitful. Perseverence in the faith does not entitle us to eternal life, but there is no eternal life without it. A word or two of improvement.

(1) Is keeping the faith the distinguishing character of a Christian? Then how few are there in the present age. The honours of the world lead away some, the sensualities of life ensnare others.

(2) Is perseverance in the faith the character of a real Christian? How melancholy must their state be who never yet set forward in the ways of God.

(3) Is it so important to keep the faith? Then let us seriously examine our own hearts concerning it. (S. Hayward.)

Guarding the faith

I. The preciousness of that which he had kept. He was the emissary of the great Physician, who had but one remedy, one panacea for the one radical disease of man. In Rome he said, “I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation unto every one that believeth, to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.” In Corinth he would say, “The Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom; but we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness; but to them that are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God.” In Galatia he would say, “God forbid that I should glory save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, whereby the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world.”

II. The strenuousness with which he had guarded it. Think you that he had no difficulties with which to cope? Was there to him no maze in Providence, no labyrinth which he found it impossible to track and thread? Providence in many of its movements was to him, as to us, an impenetrable mystery; but still he “kept the faith.” Think you that he found no difficulties in comprehending the dispensations through which God had manifested Himself to man; and that the wonder never rose up in his mind how it was that thousands of years had to pass away before the incarnation of the Son of God and the redemption of the Cross? He must have been less than man, or greatly more than man, if he could have sounded this depth; but still he “kept the faith.”

III. His success in guarding the faith. How he kept it he does not tell us here; but we catch glimpses, here and there, of the secret of his power. He kept it on his knees, kept it when he prayed night and day with tears. And be sure there is no faith, no true faith, no faith that will hold a man firm, which can be kept apart from fellowship with God. We can keep a creed without Divine help--we can keep a creed through the force of prejudice- through the force of obstinacy--through the force of ignorance--through the force of custom and social sanction--through the force of policy. To keep a creed is the easiest thing in the world, for it can lie, made up and dead, in some undisturbed chamber of the brain. But oh! to keep a faith is far from easy; for a faith to be a faith at all must be living, and if it be living, it must meet the onset of a thousand circumstances by which it will be tested. It will be tested by the influence of our obstinate corruption--it will be tested by the temptations of the world, by its maxims and customs--it will be tested by promises of advantage if only we will be faithless to our profession--it will be tested by changes in our circumstances, whether they be from poverty to wealth, or from wealth to poverty--it will be tested by those strange aspects of providence which bewilder at times the strongest minds, and make their feet almost to slip--it will be tested by the indifference or lukewarm ness of those around us. Happy the man who brings his faith through all these things. He is like a fire-safe, which guards its treasure unhurt, amid the flames which have raged around it in vain. (E. Mellor, D. D.)

Martyrdom

To die for truth is not to die for one’s country, but for the world. (J. P. Richter.)

Keeping the faith

When Bernard Palissy, the inventor of a kind of pottery called Palissy ware, was an old man, he was sent to the French prison known as the Bastille because he was a Protestant. The king went to see him, and told him he should be set free if he would deny his faith. The king said. “I am sorry to see you here, but the people will compel me to keep you here unless you recant.” Palissy was ninety years old, but he was ashamed to hear a king speak of being compelled, so he said, “Sire, they who can compel you cannot compel me! I can die!” And he remained in prison until he died.

St. Paul keeping the faith

Paul kept the faith at Autioch, even when the infatuated crowd attempted to drown his voice with their clamour, and interrupted him, contradicting and blaspheming. He kept the faith at Iconium, when the envious Jews stirred up the people to stone him. He kept the faith at Lystra, when the fate of Stephen became almost his, and he was dragged, wounded and bleeding, outside the ramparts of the town, and left there to languish, and, for aught they cared, to die. He kept the faith against his erring brother Peter, and withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed. He kept the faith when shamefully treated at Philippi, and made the dungeon echo back the praises of his God. He kept the faith at Thessalonica, when lewd fellows of the baser sort accused him falsely of sedition. He kept the faith at Athens, when, to the world’s sages, he preached of Him whom they ignorantly worshipped as the unknown God. He kept the faith at Corinth, when compelled to abandon that hardened and obdurate city, and to shake off the dust from his garment as a testimony against it. He kept the faith at Ephesus, when he pointed his hearers not to Diana, but to Jesus Christ as their only Saviour. He kept the faith at Jerusalem, when stoned by the enraged and agitated mob--when stretched upon the torturing rack, and bound with iron fetters. He kept the faith at Caesarea, before the trembling, conscience-stricken Felix, when he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come. He kept the faith before Agrippa, and, by his earnestness, compelled the king to say, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian”; and even in the closing hours of life, when the last storm was gathering over his head, when lying in the dark and dismal Roman cell, he wrote these triumphant words, “I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall given me at that day.” (J. R. Macduff.)

Keeping the faith

The apostle kept the faith. But does not the faith keep the man? It does; yet only as he keeps it. The battery keeps the gunners only as they stand to the guns. The fort keeps the garrison, yet only as they guard its walls. Never was a time when fidelity on guard was more needed than now, when the sappers are approaching the citadel of the faith, and there is treason in the camp of heaven- men in Christ’s uniform, having been so deceived by successful crime, and so blinded by dalliance with mammon as to give utterance and organisation to the shameless sentiment that the prosperity of a community can be built upon sin. It is a true soldier’s business to guard the faith. The Roman sentinel that was exhumed at Pompeii, grasping his spear, perished rather than desert his post. He wears the immortality of earth. But he that guards the faith, when dug out of the forces that overwhelm him while he stands his ground, shall inherit the immortality of God, and walk with warrior feet the streets of gold, a living king over a lofty realm. (J. Lewis.)

A crown of righteousness.--

The crown of righteousness

I. Let us consider the prize the apostle had in view, “a crown of righteousness.” Royalty is the highest pitch of human grandeur. Those that wear earthly crowns have got to the very summit of earthly honour, and are in that station in which centres all worldly glory and happiness. What an idea is this similitude designed to give us then of that glorious world, where every saint wears an unfading, incorruptible and immortal crown?

1. This crown consists of perfect and everlasting righteousness. The sparks of this crown are perfect holiness and a conformity to God.

2. This crown was purchased by the righteousness of Jesus Christ. It cost a valuable price, and therefore is of inestimable worth.

3. We come to the possession of this crown in a way of righteousness. Its being purchased for us does not lay a foundation for our slothfulness, sin and security.

II. Consider the person by whom this crown is bestowed, and his character as a righteous judge. This illustrious person is everywhere represented to be our Lord Jesus Christ. Thus, Acts 17:31. Christ is the appointed person, and He is every way fitted for the great and important work, He being God as well as man: He is absolutely incapable of committing the least mistake or error. And He is a righteous judge. He will display His righteousness in the last sentence that He will pass upon every creature.

III. Consider when this crown shall be completely possessed and be fully given. It is here said to be given “at that day,” viz.: The day of Christ’s appearance to judge the world.

IV. Consider the persons to whom this crown shall be given. “To all those who love His appearing.” The apostle was one of that happy number. They love His appearing, for then every enemy will be vanquished. (S. Hayward.)

The heavenly crown assured

This assurance is--

1. Attainable.

2. Tenable.

3. Desirable. (T. Hall, B. D.)

The crown of righteousness

I. The reward. It is described as a “crown of righteousness”; and, without question, such a phrase conveys the idea of some thing exquisitely pure, brilliant, and honourable. The crown is the reward of a conqueror; the righteousness is the diadem of deity Himself. And yet we cannot deny that it would be difficult to follow the idea into detail, and keep unimpaired its interest and its beauty. There is something indefinite in the phraseology, if we wish to ascertain from it the precise character of the recompense. When, however, we turn to the Being, by whom the recompense will be bestowed, and find Him described as “the Lord, the righteous Judge,” we “may gain that precision of idea which is not elsewhere to be procured. For we should never forget that, by our thoughts and actions, we lie exposed to God’s righteous indignation. And from this we may proceed to another fact. We require you to observe that a surprising change must have been effected ere a sinner can dwell with anything of delight on the title now under review. We press on you the truth, that if the crown is to be bestowed by the hands of the Lord, the righteous Judge, the recipient must have been the subject of a great moral revolution; for he is not only to be acquitted, he is actually to be recompensed. The bliss of an angel may be great, the splendour of an angel may be glorious; but it was not for angels that Jesus died, it was not for angels that Jesus rose. There will be for ever this broad distinction between the angels and the saints. The angels are blessed by the single right of creation; the saints by the double right of creation and redemption. Who, then, can question that the portion possessed by saints will be more brilliant than that possessed by the angels?

II. the time at which the crown shall be bestowed. It must be that day when, with the cloud for His chariot, the archangel’s trump for His heraldry, and ten thousand times ten thousand spirits for His retinue, the Man of Sorrows shall approach the earth, and wake the children of the first resurrection. And from this we conclude that St. Paul did not expect the consummation of his happiness at the very instant of his departure from the flesh. He knew, indeed, that to be “absent from the body” is to be “present with the Lord”; he knew that in the transition of a moment the prison dungeon would be exchanged for the palace, the turmoil of earth for the deep rapture of peace which never ends; but he knew also that the crowning time of the saints shall not precede the second coming of their Lord. The crown, indeed, was prepared, but then it was “laid up.” It should never be forgotten, that the resurrection of the body is indispensable to the completeness of happiness. If it be not, the whole scheme of Christianity is darkened, for the Redeemer undertook to redeem matter, as well as spirit.

III. The persons on whom the crown shall be bestowed. There is nothing more natural to man, but nothing more opposed to religion, than selfishness. He who has earthly riches, may desire to keep them to himself; he who has heavenly, must long to impart them to others. It is an exquisitely beautiful transition, which St. Paul here makes, from the contemplation of his own portion, to the mention of that which is reserved for the whole company of the faithful: “not to me only, but unto all them also that love His appearing.” He could not gaze on his own crown, and not glow with the thought, that myriads should share the coronation. Ye wish to ascertain whether ye be of those who love His appearing. Take these simple questions, and propose them to your hearts, and pray of God to strengthen you to give faithful answers. Do ye so hate what is carnal that it would be delightful to you to be at once and for ever set free from the cravings of earthly desires? Do ye so long to be pure in thought, in word, and in deed, that you feel that perfection in holiness would be to you the perfection of happiness? But, finally, if we would win the “crown of righteousness” which is spoken of by St. Paul, we must use the means. (H. Melvill, B. D.)

The crown of righteousness

The crown of righteousness is a crown whereof righteousness is the material. This crown is of the same fabric and texture as that which it should decorate; it is a crown whose beauty is moral beauty, the beauty not of gold or precious stones, but of those more precious, nay, priceless things which gold and gems can but suggest to us, the beauty of justice, truthfulness, purity, charity, humility, carried to a point of refinement and of high excellence, of which here and now we have no experience. Once and once only was such a crown as this worn upon earth, and when it was worn to human eyes it was a crown of thorns. It may seem to be a difficulty in the way of this statement that the happiness is said elsewhere to consist in the beatific visions--that is to say, in the complete and uninterrupted sight of God, whom the blessed praise and worship to all eternity. “We know we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.” But what is it that makes this vision of God the source of its promised happiness? What is it in God that will chiefly minister to the expected joy? Is it His boundless power? Is it His unsearchable wisdom? Will they cry for ever, “Almighty, Almighty, Almighty,” or “All-knowing, All-knowing, All-knowing”? Will they, do they not say, without fatigue, without desire for change, “Holy, holy, holy”? And why is this? Because essentially God is a moral being, and it is by His moral attributes that He perfectly corresponds to, and satisfies the deepest wants in our human nature. The “crown of righteousness” means a share, such as it is possible for a creature to have in God’s essential nature, in His justice, His purity, and His love; since while we can conceive of Him, had He so willed it, as never having created the heavens and the earth, we cannot, we dare not, think of Him, in any relation with other beings as other than just, true, loving, merciful--in other words, as other than holy. He is, indeed, Himself, the “crown of righteousness,” the crown with which He rewards the blessed, and there is no opposition between the idea of such a crown and the beatific vision. They are only two different accounts of that which is in its essence the same. “The crown of righteousness!” Some crown or other, I apprehend, most men are looking for, if not always, yet at some time in their lives; if not very confidently, yet with those modified hopes which regard it as possibly attainable. Human nature views itself almost habitually as the heir apparent--of some circumstances which are an improvement on the present. An expectation of this kind is the very condition of effort in whatever direction, and no amount or degree of proved delusion would appear permanently to extinguish it. But the crowns which so many of us hope may be laid up for us somewhere, and by some one--what are they? There is the crown of a good income in a great mercantile community like our own. This is the supreme distinction for which many a man labours without thought of anything beyond. And closely allied to this is another crown--the crown of a good social position. “I have made great efforts, tempered with due discretion; I have finished the course which has appeared to bring me unbounded pleasure, but which has really meant incessant weariness. I have observed those laws of social propriety, which are never to be disregarded with impunity; and so henceforth there awaits me an assured position, in which I indeed may be reviled, but from which I cannot be dislodged--a position which society cannot but award, sooner or later, to those who struggle upward in obedience to her rules.” And, then, there is the crown of political power. “I have fought against the foes of my party or my country; I have finished a course of political activity which has borne me onwards to the end. I have kept to my principles, or I have shown that I had reason to modify or to abandon them; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of political influence which is almost from the nature of the case independent of office, and which a great country will never refuse to those who served it long and have served it well.” And once more there is the crown of a literary reputation. “I have had a hard time of it; I have finished what I proposed to it; I have been true to the requirements of a great and exacting subject; henceforth there is reserved for me the rare pleasure of a reputation which wealth and station cannot command, and which envy cannot take away; henceforth I have a place in the great communion of the learned, those elect minds in whom genius is wedded to industry, and whose works are among the treasures of the human race.” Here are the crowns, or some of them, for which men toil and with which are they not seldom rewarded. But do they last?… As we get nearer death, the exaggerations of self-love cease to assert themselves; we see things more clearly as they really are; we distinguish that which lasts from that which passes; we understand the immense distinction between all the perishable crowns and the “crown of righteousness.” That crown does not pass. It is laid up, it is set aside for its destined wearer by the most Merciful Redeemer, who is also the Eternal Judge, and who watches with an unspeakable, tender interest each conqueror as he draws nearer and nearer to the end of his earthly course, and as, in the name of the great redemption, he dares to claim it. (Canon Liddon.)

A crown of righteousness

If I had three things to wish, I should wish for Paul’s threefold crown.

1. The crown of grace, a great measure of grace to do Christ much service.

2. His crown of joy, a great measure of joy to go through with that service.

3. The crown of glory which he was here assured of.

In the words we have first the concluding particle, henceforth, lastly, as for that which remains.

1. A crown is not given till the victory be gained (chap. 2:5).

2. It notes the perpetuity of the glory, incorruptible, never fading crown (2 Peter 1:4; 1 Corinthians 9:24).

3. It notes the perfection of it, as the crown compasseth the head on every side; so there is nothing wanting in this crown of life. So the saints in glory shall be crowned with goodness when all the faculties of the soul and members of the body shall be perfect and filled with glory.

4. It represents to us the dignity of the saints and the glory of their reward. They are all kings and shall be crowned. The day of judgment is their coronation day.

Of righteousness--

1. Because it is purchased for us by the righteousness of Christ. By His perfect righteousness and obedience He hath merited this for us.

2. In respect of His promise, His fidelity bindeth Him to perform it. God hath promised a crown of life to such as serve Him sincerely (Jam 1:12; 1 John 2:25; Revelation 2:10; Revelation 3:21).

3. It may be called a crown of righteousness, because it is given only to righteous men, and so it showeth who shall be crowned, and what is the way to it; but not for what merits or desert of ours it is given. (T. Hall, B. D.)

The crown of righteousness

It is not the diadem of noble, prince, or king, but the wreath of victory for those who have contended (See Matthew 11:12). This crown can never fit the brows of the indolent, the lover of ease, the self-indulgent man of the world who acquiesces in Christian doctrines and Christian customs, whether of worship or social life, because he shuns the trouble of inquiry and of choice. To contend, to strive, to fight is the first condition of conquering, even as the conqueror alone can win the crown. Who, in that day, will deem the contest too hard when he has received the crown? Then, again, it is the crown of righteousness; and righteousness is the square and the perfection of all moral character and virtue, moulded and shaped by Christ’s Spirit after Christ’s example. Therefore, only that stage of character in which feeling, desire, choice and motive are genuine and pure, can be expressed by this word. This fabric of righteousness thus inwrought into the man himself will receive its topstone from Christ. No bye ways, no short cuts lead to heaven, only the narrow way of righteousness. (D. Trinder, M. A.)

A crown without cares

The royal life which Paul anticipated in heaven will not only be a life of dignity, and power, and grandeur, but it will be all that, without any of the disagreeable concomitants which earthly royalty has to experience. In this world greatness and care are twins. Crowns more commonly prove curses than blessings to those who wear them. Isaac, the son of Comnenus, one of the most virtuous of eastern rulers, was crowned at Constantinople in 1057. Basil, the patriarch, brought the crown to him surmounted with a diamond cross. Taking hold of the cross, the Emperor said, “I, who have been acquainted with crosses from nay cradle, welcome thee; thou art my sword and shield, for hitherto I have conquered with suffering.” Then taking the crown in his hand he added. “This is but a beautiful burden, which loads more than it adorns.” The crown of the triumphant Christian is a crown of righteousness, which will neither oppress the head, afflict the heart, nor imperil the life of any that receive it. (J. Underhill.)

Historic crowns

Napoleon had a magnificent crown made for himself in 1804. It was this crown that he so proudly placed upon his head with his own hands in the cathedral of Notre Dame. It is a jewelled circle, from which springs several arches surmounted by the globe and cross, and where the arches join the circle there are alternately flowers and miniature eagles of gold. After his downfall, it remained in the French Treasury until it was assumed by another Bonaparte, when Napoleon

III. made himself Emperor in 1852. It is now in the regalia of France, which have only just been brought back to Paris from the western seaport to which they were sent for security during the Prussian invasion, just as the Scottish regalia were sent to Dunnottar. If we may judge from some of the German photographs of the Emperor William, the crown of the new German Empire is of a very peculiar shape, apparently copied from the old Carlovingian diadem. It is not a circle, but a polygon, being formed of flat jewelled plates of gold united by the edges, and having above them two arches supporting the usual globe and cross. Of the modern crowns of continental Europe, perhaps the most remarkable is the well-known triple crown or Papal tiara, or perhaps we should say tiaras, for there are four of them. The tiara is seldom worn by the Pope; it is carried before him in procession, but, except on rare occasions, he wears a mitre like an ordinary bishop. Of the existing tiaras, the most beautiful is that which was given by Napoleon I. to Pius VII. in 1835. It is said to be worth upwards of £9,000. Its three circlets are almost incrusted with sapphires, emeralds, rubies, pearls and diamonds; and the great emerald at its apex is said to be the most beautiful in the world.

A lost crown

A lady in a dream wandered around heaven, beholding its glories, and came at last to the crown-room. Among the crowns she saw one exceedingly beautiful. “Who is this for?” “It was intended for you,” said the angel, “but you did not labour for it, and now another will wear it.”

Seeking to obtain a crown

A French officer, who was a prisoner upon his parole at Reading, met with a Bible. He read it, and was so impressed with the contents that he was convinced of the folly of sceptical principles and of the truth of Christianity, and resolved to become a Protestant. When his gay associates rallied him for taking so serious a turn, he said, in his vindication, “I have done no more than my old schoolfellow, Berna dotte, who has become a Lutheran.” “Yes, but he became so,” said his associates, “to obtain a crown.” “My motive,” said the Christian officer, “is the same; we only differ as to the place. The object of Bernadotte is to obtain a crown in Sweden; mine is to obtain a crown in heaven.”

More crowns left

On one occasion, preaching from the text of St. Paul, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course,” he suddenly stopped, and looking up to heaven, cried with a loud voice, “Paul! are there any more crowns there?” He paused again. Then, casting his eyes upon the congregation, he continued, “Yes, my brethren, there are more crowns left. They are not all taken up yet. Blessed be God! there is one for me, and one for all of you who love the appearing of the Lord Jesus Christ.” (Life of Father Taylor.)

A congruous crown

There is such a congruity between righteousness and the crown of life, that it can be laid on none other head but that of a righteous man, and if it could, all its amaranthine flowers would shrivel and fall when they touched an impure brow. (A. Maclaren, D. D.)

Preaching for a crown

The Rev. H. Davies, sometimes called “the Welsh apostle,” was walking early one Sabbath morning to a place where he was to preach. He was overtaken by a clergymen on horseback, who complained that he could not get above half a guinea for a discourse. “Oh, sir,” said Mr. Davies, “I preach for a crown I” “Do you?” replied the stranger, “then you are a disgrace to the cloth.” To this rude observation he returned this meek answer, “Perhaps I shall be held in still greater disgrace in your estimation, when I inform you that I am now going nine miles to preach, and have but seven-peace in my pocket to bear my expenses out and in; but I look forward to that crown of glory which my Lord and Saviour will freely bestow upon me when He makes His appearance before an assembled world.”

Shall give me at that day.--

St. Paul a witness for immortality

As example is better than precept, so is the man more valuable than his doctrine, when he lives it. And when we study the apostle as he appears to us in his last written letter, we come face to face with the exemplification in living reality of a sublime doctrine, which proves itself stronger than adversity, animating and supporting a great soul amid circumstances which threaten to afflict and even crush its hopes. The chains hung round his hands and feet. Death menaced him with every approaching footstep. Only a tyrant’s breath stood between him and the executioner’s sword. In such a moment a man is likely to be true to himself. False reckonings are corrected, self-flatteries cease; then, if ever, he faces his real position.

I. St. Paul bequeaths the example of a finished career. Labour and suffering, threatenings and persecution, have failed to wrest from him the prize which, above all others, is most worth keeping--the faith of God as revealed in Christ.

II. What had he in the present? A certain conviction that a treasure was, at the very moment when he wrote, laid up in safe keeping for his future benefit. Though the Roman sword shall soon sever the apostle’s wearied head from his weakened, tired body, the crown shall survive, and he, too, who shall wear it. Death will not extinguish his being, nor bear him off into the great stream of existences that have passed away. The followers of Auguste Comte, the so-called Positivist, profess to hope for an immortality in the mass of human beings that follow in our wake, as if the fact that others are living were a compensation for our dying, or as if we could live again in those who carry on the race and profit by our example. Not so the great apostle. There is laid up for me, for that being who has wrestled, who has fought, who has kept the faith, the crown of righteousness, even as I am being kept to wear it.

III. How grandly does the prospect of the future burst upon the keen eye of the faithful warrior! The hope of this crown is not a privilege of a few, still less a monopoly for himself. Not only does he know that it is kept safe for him, but he tells the day and the manner of its bestowal. The day of labour gives place to one of rest, strife is followed by peace, suffering is forgotten in undying vigour of mind and body. This certainty of future recompense at the hand of Christ, the Righteous Judge, blends with what has gone before, and adds to this legacy all that was wanting to its completeness. The benefits of past experience, the certainty of present conviction, and the assured hope of a righteous award in the great day of account, from One who lives and has made His life felt in the holy strivings and faithful efforts of His redeemed servants on earth; these form a triple cord which cannot easily be broken. (D. Trinder, M. A.)

An assured hope

I. An assured hope is a true and scriptural thing. It cannot be wrong to feel confidently in a matter where God speaks unconditionally--to believe decidedly when God promises decidedly--to have a sure persuasion of pardon and peace when we rest on the word and oath of Him that never changes. It is an utter mistake to suppose that the believer who feels assur ance is resting on anything he sees in himself.

II. A believer may never arrive at this assured hope, which Paul expresses, and yet be saved. “A letter,” says an old writer, “may be written, which is not sealed; so grace may be written in the heart, yet the Spirit may not set the seal of assurance to it.” A child may be born heir to a great fortune, and yet never be aware of his riches; may live childish, die childish, and never know the greatness of his possessions.

III. Why an assured hope is exceedingly to be desired.

1. Because of the present comfort and peace it affords.

2. Because it tends to make a Christian an active working Christian.

3. Because it tends to make a Christian a decided Christian.

4. Be cause it tends to make the holiest Christians.

IV. Some probable causes why an assured hope is so seldom attained.

1. A defective view of the doctrine of justification.

2. Slothfulness about growth in grace.

3. An inconsistent walk in life. (Bp. Ryle.)

All them also that love His appearing:--

I. Who they are that love the Lord’s appearing:--I might answer such a question very shortly by saying, those who are prepared for it. “But who,” you may ask, “is the prepared servant?” I answer--he who has received that Lord as his Redeemer, who, he expects, will be his Judge.

II. Why they love it. If you had received a multitude of obligations from an unseen friend, you would surely long to set your eyes upon him. If you heard that you were soon to meet him, you would be pleased exceedingly; you would exclaim, “Oh, come the day!” And here then is a reason why the saved sinner loves to think of the appearing of his Saviour. The very sight of his Redeemer will be rapture to his soul. But look at the words immediately be fore our text, and there you will see a further reason of the fact we are considering. There are we told of a prize which the believer has to look for in the day of his Lord’s coming. It will be a day when the present evil course of things will be for ever over. Again, the Lord’s people love the day of His appearing, because then He will be All in All. (A. Roberts, M. A.)

The love of Christ’s appearance the character of a sincere Christian

I. I shall open the character of a sincere Christian.

1. There must be a firm persuasion, or assent of mind, upon just grounds, to the truth of this proposition, That Christ will appear; for it is a wise and reasonable love, not a rash and unaccountable thing. They don’t love they don’t know what, or without a sufficient reason. “They look for these things according to His promise” (2 Peter 3:13).

2. It imports earnest desire of it. This is essential to the love of anything. Love always works by desire towards an absent good, and so it is constantly represented. Looking for the blessed hope and glorious appearance. And to them who look for Him shall He appear the second time. The word signifies earnest desire, looking with great expectation. The Church is represented making this return to Christ, “Behold I come quickly: Even so come Lord Jesus” (Revelation 22:20). They often think it long, and are ready to say, in the warmth of their desire, and under the sense of present burdens, Oh, when will He come! why are His chariots so long a coming? But then it is not a rash and impatient desire, or an impetuous, unruly passion. Though they earnestly desire it, they are content to stay the proper season, and wait with patience notwithstanding the longest delay, and the greatest exercise in the mean time.

3. There is pleasure and satisfaction in the expectation and hope of it. This is the nature of love too. It is desire towards an absent object, but delight in it when present. Besides that there is a pleasure in the desire. Now, though the appearance of Christ is a future thing, yet the thoughts of it, and the hopes of it, are present things.

4. It is powerful and influential. The expectation of His appearance will not only give a pleasure, but form the mind suitable to it, and direct the conduct of the life. For example, it will engage to answerable diligence, excite to faithfulness, and promote a constant readiness and preparation for it.

II. I shall consider the reasons of it, and show why sincere Christians have such a love to His appearance.

1. With respect to Christ, who is to appear. This will be evident if you consider either His person or His appearance itself. He is the great object of their love now. Whom having not seen, they love, from the representations of Him in the gospel, and the benefits they receive from Him. And how can they but love His appearance whom they so great]y love? And His appearance will be most highly honourable to Him; for He will appear in the state of a judge and the majesty of a king. He will then appear as He really is, and not in disguise, or under a disadvantage. And how reasonable is the love of His appearance in this view, as every way most honourable to Him, and the greatest display of His glory before the world?

2. With respect to themselves. It will be every way to their advantage. Our Lord says, “Thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just: When He shall appear, they will be like Him, and receive a crown of life.”

III. The privilege and blessing annexed to this character, and which belongs to it; the righteous Judge will give them a crown of righteousness. Conclusion! Let us often contemplate the appearance of Christ. This is the noblest subject of thought, and of the greatest concern to us. The consideration of this is proper to raise our love to Him, and reconcile our minds to His dispensations towards us.

2. The great difference between sincere Christians and other men. They love to think of His appearance, but others dread it; they wish and long for it, but others are afraid of it, and wish He would never come at all, or say in scorn, Where is the promise of His coming?

3. Can we make out this character? Are we lovers of His appearance? Is it the powerful motive to proper duty, and all suitable regard to Him?

4. How great is the Divine mercy in bestowing such a blessing upon sincere Christians. (W. Harris, D. D.)

Loving the Second Advent

See where St. Paul places a “love” of the Second Advent. He was writing as “Paul, the aged,” with his own “crown of righteousness” now full in view. But who shall share it? The rest of the college of the apostles? Those who had “fought,” his “good fight’--run his “course”--and “kept” his “faith” to the end? He stretches the bond of fellowship far higher. He makes the condition of the attainment very simple; but perfectly definite. All that is required to get the “crown,” is to “love” very dearly Him that brings it. There are four attitudes of mind in which we may stand respecting the “appearing” of Christ. By far the worst is “indifference”; and that indifference may be either the dullness of ignorance, or the apathy of the deadness of the moral feelings. The next state is “fear.” There is always something very good when there is “fear.” It requires faith to “fear.” But above “fear” is “hope.” “Hope” is expectation with desire; knowledge enough to be able to anticipate, and grace enough to be able to wish it. And here the ladder is generally cut off; but God carries it one step higher--“love.” “Love” is as much above “hope” as “hope” is above “fear”--for “hope” may be selfish, “love” cannot be; “hope” may be for what a person gives, “love” must be for the person himself. Therefore a man might deceive himself, by thinking all was right in his soul, because he “hoped” for the Second Advent; but he might, after all, be set upon the pageant; and the rest; and the reward. But to the individual that “loves” it, there must be something infinitely dear in it; and that one dear thing is the Lord Jesus Christ. All Rome “hoped”, for the return and the triumph of Caesar--but Caesar’s own child “loved” him. Remember no motive concerning anything ever satisfies God, until it is the reflex of His own motive; and God’s motive is always “love.” Christ will come “lovingly”--therefore He must be met “lovingly.” But the “love of Christ’s appearing” is, evidently, not a simple idea; but one composed of many parts. I would separate four, which four at least go to make it. The moment of the manifestation--the original word is the epiphany--“epiphany,” you know, is the same as “manifestation” the moment of the manifestation of Christ will be the moment of the manifestation of all His followers. Then, perhaps, for the first time in their united strength and beauty--declared, and exhibited, and vindicated, and admired, in the presence of the universe. And, oh! what a subject of “love” is there. Some we shall see selecting and individualising us, as they come, with the well-remembered glances of their loving smiles. But all sunny in their sacred sweetness and their joyous comeliness. Never be afraid to “love” the saints too much. Some speak as if to “love” Christ were one thing--but to “love” the saints were another thing; and they almost place them in rivalry! But the saints are Christ. They are His mystical body, without which Christ Himself is not perfect. Another part of “the appearing”--very pleasant and very loveable to every Christian--will be the exhibition that will then be made of the kingdom and the glory of Jesus. If you are a child of God, every day it is a very happy thought to you, that Christ gains some honour. Only think what it will be to look all around as far as the eye can stretch, and all is His!” On His head are many crowns!” His sceptre supreme over a willing world! Every creature at His feet! His own, all-perfect His name sounded upon every lip! His love perfect in every soul! But there is another thing after which you are always, panting--you are very jealous over it with an exceeding jealousy. You are m the habit of tracing the ebb and flow of it every night, with the intensest interest. I mean, the image of Christ upon your soul. “Why am I not more like Him? Does His like ness increase at all in me? When shall I be entirely conformed--no separate will--no darkening spot upon the little mirror of this poor heart of mine, to prevent His seeing His own perfect mind there?” But now you stand before Him--in His unveiled perfections--and you are like Him--for you “see Him as He is!” And if “His appearing” is to appear in you, is not that cause to love Him? Therefore all His Church love Him--because then they shall be as that “sea of glass” before the throne, wherein God can look and see Him self again in their clear truth, and their holy stillness, and their unsullied brightness! But why speak of the shadows when you will have the substance? We shall look on Him and there will not be a feeling which ever throbbed in a bosom which will not be gratified! There will not be a desire, which ever played before the eye, which will not be surpassed! Another mark of the believer is that he loves the person of Christ. Others may love His work--he loves Him--for His own sake--because He is what He is. He loves Him to be with him--to see him--to know him--to converse with him. This fills his heart. All that is “love,” and it is satisfied. But, will not all other “love,” that ever was “loved,” be as no “love,” to the “love” that will then fill the soul? (J. Vaughan, M. A.)

A crown for all the saints

A king rejoices in his crown, not only because it is rich in gems and a symbol of power, but because he is the only man in the kingdom who has one or who is permitted to wear one. Suppose that some peer of the realm or some rich commoner should have a crown royal made for himself, and should wear it in public, what would the king do? Would he be glad that there was somebody else who possessed and was worthy of that symbol of royalty? Would he say: “I would that all my people were kings?” No, indeed! That presumptuous, self-crowned subject would either be pat in an asylum as a lunatic or in prison as a traitor. Such is the Christian spirit in contrast with that of selfishness. Such is the joy of heaven in contrast with that of earth. Let us see how much purer and nobler it is. The Christian spirit, so beautifully illustrated by the great apostle when he could not think of his own without thinking also of the crowning of his brethren, is the spirit that will fill heaven with the joy that springs from love. Would that we had more of it here and now.