When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man.

Furnished, but vacant

The central lesson of this text is this: that reformation is not necessarily salvation-that, indeed, reformation without godliness may bring a curse rather than a blessing. And it is not the history of the Jewish nation only which illustrates this principle. Look at the reaction which, in our own country, followed the Puritan Reformation. Again, there are not a few in our day who have lost all faith in the gospel of Christ, but who are firm relievers is the power of science and material civilization to elevate and bless mankind. Science may expel the devils of ignorance and superstition; it may “sweep” the house, and “garnish “ it with information on a thousand subjects. But can it supply the house with a tenant strong enough to keep out the “ seven worse devils “ when they come? I do not know that ignorance is more dangerous than intellectual pride. I do not know that a superstitious idolatry is worse than an atheistic materialism. Nay, it may perhaps be more healthful for a man to worship the stars than to worship his own telescope, it is surely better to “feel after God” in the darkness, than to cease caring for Him in the light. Coming nearer home, my text also teaches us a pratical lesson as to our dealings with individuals whom we are seeking to save and BLESS. AS a parent you endeavour by earnest discipline to expel from your child the demons of disobedience, untruthfulness, self-will. You do well in thus sweeping the house; but this is not salvation. One deed done by your boy through the love of God or Christ or goodness, is worth all the sweeping and garnishing in the world; for it indicates that the house is tenanted. Take another case. Here, let us suppose, is a drunkard whom you are anxious to reform. He is ruining his body, breaking his wife’s heart, injuring his family. You succeed in reforming him. This a matter for rejoicing. You have done well in sweeping the house from one vice; but that vice had its root in ungodliness, and if after his reformation the man continues ungodly, there is danger of that ungodliness breaking out in worse sins than ever. Finally, the text has a solemn application to the state of our own souls. The grand question is: Are our souls inhabited by the principles of godliness? Is the spirit of God dwelling within us? Let us choose and cherish all things good. (T. C. Finlayson)

“To let, furnished”

You may perhaps have seen some large mansion filled with substantial and elegant furniture, and surrounded with a beautiful and well kept garden, and having in its windows a placard bearing the words” To let, furnished.” I fear there is many a man in modern Christendom of whom such a house is only too fitting an emblem! He may have been well instructed in the truths of Christianity; his mind may be richly stored with the fruits of modern culture; he may be brilliant and accomplished; his acquirements may be substantial, his manners gentlemanly, his tastes refined, his conduct decorous: but the well-furnished rooms are all vacant: they are not tenanted by the spiritual life; they are sadly too open to the incursions of evil; and one day, perhaps, the “seven devils” may come and abuse to their own purposes all those intellectual and aesthetic treasures. (T. C. Finlayson.)

Reaction

I suppose there never was a time in the history of England which equalled in licentiousness and profanity the period ushered in by the Restoration. And doubtless the chief cause of this is to be found in the endeavour of the Puritans, when they were in power, to force upon the nation both their own theology and their own code of morals. The Puritans, in their intense eagerness to reform the nation, fell into the great mistake of supposing that they could make the people orthodox and virtuous by Acts of Parliament. At least, their deeds were in accordance with some such theory. The Book of Common Prayer was forbidden, under penalty, to be used either in churches or in private houses. Punishments were threatened against such as should find fault with the Calvinistic mode of worship. Public amusements were attacked. Theatrical representstions were proscribed. One statute ordered that all the maypoles in England should be cut down. The Long Parliament gave orders that Christmas Day should be strictly observed as a fast-a day of national humiliation. No person was to be “admitted into the public service until the House of Legislature should be satisfied as to his real godliness.” Thus the Puritans set themselves most vigorously to “sweep” England and to “garnish” it. And it cannot be denied that to some extent they succeeded. The country did present an aspect of greater devoutness and morality. But all such Acts of Parliament could not communicate one spark of religious life; they could “sweep” away much visible dust, they could “garnish” the house with external observances, but they could not send the indwelling tenant. And so, in due time, to the untenanted house came the “seven devils:”-first, hypocrisy and all manner of cant, and secret debauchery, even during the Protectorate; and then, at the Restoration, an unblushing profanity sand licentiousness, the like of which England had never seen before. The king and his courtiers set the example of profligacy. The statesmen of the land became mere selfish tricksters. Literature draggled itself in the mire of pollution. The stage became utterly corrupt. Conventicles were proscribed. John Bunyan was only one of many who were sent to prison for preaching the gospel. (T. C. Finlayson.)

The return of the dispossessed spirit

And if we look to England at the period of the Reformation, we find that men, raised up by God, and endowed of Him with singular boldness, and wisdom, and piety, exorcised the unclean spirit of Romish superstition, and ejected from amongst us the corruptions of Popery. It was a sublime moral revolution, and never did the human mind struggle free from a more oppressive shackle, never was there thrown off from a people a mightier weight, than when Reformers had won the hard-fought battle, and Protestantism was enthroned as the religion of these realms. But we should like to have it carefully considered, whether there has been no receiving back the unclean spirit. The human mind, long enslaved, was intoxicated with its freedom, and, in place of stopping at liberty, went on to lawlessness. Hence the overspreading of the land with a thousand sects and a thousand systems; as though, in casting out the one spirit of ecclesiastical tyranny, we had taken in the seven of ecclesiastical disunion. And over and above this melancholy disruption of the visible Church, Popery itself has too often found a home in our Protestantism: for whenever formality has insinuated itself into religion, or self-righteousness, or the substitution of means for an end, then has there been introduced the very essence of Romanism: the ejected spirit has come back, the same in nature, though less repulsive in appearance. (H. Melvill, B. D.)

The genius of moral evil

I. Amazing audacity-“My house.”

II. Unscrupulous dishonesty.

1. Not a particle of its materials belong to him.

2. Not an effort in its workmanship was his.

III. Intense selfishness. Why does he return to the house, for injury.

IV. Egregious folly. Possession precarious. (Dr. Thomas.)

Transient religious impressions

I. The withdrawal of the evil spirit,

II. His restless anxiety to return.

III. The re-entrance he at length effects.

1. Of the state in which he found it. Empty. Garnished but not furnished.

2. The possession he again takes.

IV. The affecting ,consequence of his repossession’.

1. He will now run greater lengths in impiety than before.

2. He is less likely than ever to be recovered from Satanic dominion.

3. It must prove the occasion of more severe and aggravated suffering. (H. Bromley.)

The house swept and garnished

I. A miserable condition indicated. It is that of a man under the influence of an evil spirit.

1. This influence is powerful. It is inward, controlling, directing.

2. It is defiling.

II. An agreeable deliverance experienced. Men may undergo considerable change for the better, without being really converted.

1. In the Word of God this truth is frequently set forth.

2. It is confirmed by innumerable instances.

3. This subject demands serious thought, and vigorous self-examination.

III. A fearful relapse described.

1. When the evil spirit returned he found the house unoccupied.

2. His return under these circumstances was easily effected.

3. The consequences attending this re-possession were truly awful. (Expository Outlines.)

The dangers of relapse

Evil, in every form or stage, is dangerous. But if one comes out of these evils, and lapses back into them, the dangers are increased. This is well understood in disease. When the fever has subsided, and pulse and temperature have become normal, if then, through some indiscretion or exposure, the disease returns, the physician looks for a wider variation of pulse and temperature, and greater danger. The forces of nature are weakened; the house of the body was swept clean of all those gracious energies that filled it full of life and health, and now the disease runs riot through all its undefended chambers and passages. So one may dwell in a marsh at the foot of a mountain-a miserable existence, it may be, in malarious damps and under fatal shades; but it is better to stay there than to climb the mountain and heedlessly slip over a precipice. Life may be maintained below, though under wretched conditions; but the fall may cripple or end it. So one may live a contented life in rude poverty; the single room of the hut, water from the spring, the wild forest around, the homespun suit, the plain diet, the unhelped toil, the dull and narrow routine-a picture for pity, perhaps, and not representing the best forms of life; but if one escapes it, and comes into finer and larger ways of living, and then is driven back to the old place and ways, the lapse breeds a discontent and misery before unknown. To venture forth and then return; to rise and fall back; to promise and not fulfil; to undertake and not do-this is the tragedy of character.

I. One who lapses from religious earnestness does not easily regain it; and if the lapses are frequent there is danger of losing it altogether. The Divine flame cannot often go out and be re-kindled. Once out, it is apt to stay out. The religious nature cannot be tampered with, and retain its integrity. It is largely made up of emotions and passions that lose their quality, and turn into scourges, if treated fitfully. You may bend a bar of iron, and straighten it again; but after repeating this process a few times it suddenly parts in your hands, and only fusing fire can weld it. Take a finer passion-love. You cannot give and take back love without ceasing to love; it is, by its nature, a continuous thing. Violate its nature as such, and it becomes a name and a disgust. One cannot “fall in love” many times, and have a heart left … Fire always burns; water seeks its level; the crystal keeps its angle; light extinguishes darkness. So in spiritual matters; we cannot trifle with these great passions of love and reverence, devotion, fidelity and enthusiasm without destroying them … It is dangerous, because self-destructive to say, “I will do a thing,” and then not do it; to take a place of responsibility, and shirk its duties when they begin to press hard and grow monotonous. If we trifle with truth and duty, we do not merely lose them; we change them into avenging spirits that return to us with consuming power.

II. One who takes up and lays off a duty, and is fitful in religious habits and feelings, grows sceptical of the reality of these things. A religious life gets its vindication and comes to a full proof of its reality, only as it is continuous and lived out to the full. One cannot in a year test the full power of a single Christian quality. A personal vindication of the faith is a life-work, and requires all its years. Thus only does one come to know in whom and what one believes. But if the test is a short or vacillating one; if you try prayer, worship, self-denial, meekness, charity, forgiveness, self-control, devotion for a while, and lapse out of them, you doubt their reality. Why should you not? They bore you no fruit, gave you no proof. But alas for him who reaches such a conclusion by such a process. It is something to believe in goodness, though we may not be good; to believe that honest men walk the streets, though we may not be honest; that the light which shines from the downcast eves of modesty is not a false light, though it may have died out in our own; that when men speak of prayer and faith, they speak of realities and powers, though we may be strangers to them. But to doubt them, to disbelieve their existence-that is perdition. Then the soul begins to depart from all things, the glory of humanity fades Out; inspiration ceases to play within us; nobility is gone out of all our life.

III. The reasons for stedfastness. Only one true goal of human effort-character. To know its conditions and obey them is the sum of all knowledge and duty. Regularity, bending the powers to one end, doing always the right thing under the right motive-it is thus that character takes shape and becomes a reality. A habit of religious thought may be formed as truly as a trade can be learned, and under the same law of repetition, guided by will and sympathetic purpose. Lapse, alternations, fluctuations, now earnest, now slothful, now up and doing, and now doing nothing, now alive with religious enthusiasm, now sunk down in apathy-such a history is the defeat and the denial of character. There is still hope no doubt, for one who has had such a history; but he must take care not to repeat it. Character is justly adjudged by its faults and vices, rather than from its virtues; just as it is the weakest spot in the iron that measures the strength of the bar, and just as the rope will hold only the weight that the frayed and chafed strands can endure. In character, the vice blackens the virtue; the virtue cannot whiten the vice … And so, when we turn to the Bible, we find all the promises and all the rewards poured out on those who are faithful unto the end. The patience of the saints is the burden of its exhortation. Be thou faithful unto death, and thou shalt win the crown of life. And in keeping with this, the picture of heavenly perfection, is that of constancy-serving God day and night in His temple; and so they reign for ever and ever. (T. T. Munger.)

The empty life

As wealth increases, as we multiply men-servants and maid-servants in our houses, as life becomes less primitive and more artificial, there come to be found a large number of persons, both men and women, who have little or nothing to do, unless they seek or make an occupation for themselves. It is out of such a condition of things that there is sure to arise, sooner or later, every imaginable evil that can afflict society or ruin the individual soul. Given the growth of wealth, luxury and indolence, and straightway you have prepared a nest in which a whole brood of vices will soon and swiftly be hatched. When one home is clouded or shattered by the shame of some wretched intrigue, and another stung and wounded by the cruelty of some causeless calumny, and a third dishonoured and disbanded perhaps by some foolish and criminal extravagance, have we ever paused to consider amid what idleness, what aimlessness, amid what vapid seeking for a fresh excitement in the dead dull level of an unemployed and uninterested life, these manifold forms of evil were conceived and initiated? Ah! if we could trace back some crime or baseness to its incipient beginning, how often should we find it true that, into the life, “empty, swept and garnished,” there had entered, just because it was so empty, its hands so idle and unemployed, its heart so uninterested and indifferent, a whole legion of devils to drag it down to hell. (Bishop H. C. Potter.)

The entrance of evil

It is not here said that the evil spirit breaks open the door, or that he does so much as draw the latch; but that he finds it empty and open already, and all things ready for his entertainment; so that, if we reach not out our hands to welcome him when he comes, and set not our doors open to let him in when he knocks, his temptations can never do us hurt; he can but entreat us, as he did Christ; and, if we fall, the fault is our own; we cast ourselves down headlong into misery and sin. (Bishop Cosin.)

The heart a house

So the malicious heart is a house for the spirit of envy: the drunken for the spirit of sobriety: the proud for the spirit of pride: the unchaste for the spirit of uncleanness: usurer for the spirit of covetousness. (T. Adams.)

Satanic disquietude when cast out of man

The discontented devil cast out of man seeks about for a new lodging; and finds all places dry: he esteems every place, but in man’s heart, irksome and unpleasant, as a dry, barren, and healthy wilderness. Now, as when a man hath long lived in a fertile valley, abounding with delightful fruits, and necessary comforts, the grounds standing thick with corn, and a pleasant river running along, to glad his heart with a welcome moisture; it cannot be other than a displeasing change to be banished into a mountainous desert, where the scorching sun burns up the grass, and withers the fruit; or the unhindered force of the wind finds a bleak object to work upon; where the veins of blood, the springs of water, rise not, run not, to modify the earth, and cherish her plants. Such is Satan’s case and cause of perplexity. The wicked heart was his delighted orchard, where the fruits of disobedience, oaths, lies, blasphemies, oppressions, cozenages, contentions, drunken, proud, covetous actions and habits made him fat.

The concealed occupant

The devil may be within the grate, though he thrust not out his apparent horns, or say, he be walked abroad, yet be returns home at night: and in the mean time, like a mistrustful churl, locks the door after him; spares up the heart with security, that his treasure be not stolen. Thus as a snail, he gathers up himself into his shell and house of the heart, when he fears discovery, and puts not forth his horns. Sometimes he plays not in the sun actually, but burrows deep in the affections. The fox keeps his den close, when he knows that God’s huntsmen be abroad to seek him. (T. Adams.)

Satanic relaxation not expulsion

Nero is still in Rome, though he remits taxations, and forbears massacres for a season. (T. Adams.)

The apostate, or black saint

Man compared to a fort, and the devil to its captain.

I. The unclean spirit’s egress, forsaking the hold.

1. His unroosting:

(a) the person going out;

(b) the manner;

(c) the measure, of his going out.

2. His unresting: which is seen in

(a) his travel;

(b) his trial;

(c) his trouble;

(d) the event-“finding none.”

II. His regress, striving for a re-entry into that which he lost.

1. Intentively:

(a) his resolution;

(b) his revolution;

(c) the description of the seat;

(d) his affection to the same place.

2. Inventively: for he findeth in it,

(a) Clearness;

(b) Cleanness:

(c) Trimness.

III. His ingress: manifest by-

1. His associates;

(a) their number;

(b) their nature;

(c) the measure of their malice.

2. His assault:

(a) the invasion;

(b) the inhabitation;

(c) the cohabitation. (T. Adams.)

Partial Sweeping

For like as a lazy and slothful housewife uses to sweep a little of the loose dust and filth in the open and middle of the room, and lets many secret corners lie foul as before, and maybe leaves the dirt behind the door out of the public view of people: so the false and counterfeit Christian reforms his life in the sight of men; or, like the Pharisees, makes clean the outside of the cup and platter, but their hearts are still polluted, and as vile as ever. (B. Keach.)

A natural improvement, not a saving operation

And remarkable is the phrase of our Saviour, “garnished,” which we know is commonly a curious piece of art, men by their ingenuity strive to imitate nature; they will draw the face of a man, etc., with curious painting, very exact, so that it much resembles the person’s natural face, yet it is not the same, it is but a piece of paint, an artificial invention. Even so in like manner by the improvement of man’s natural parts, common grace, light and knowledge, he may appear in the view and sight of men, as a true child of God, and may talk and discourse like a saint, read and hear God’s Word-nay, and pray also with much seeming devotion and piety, and may likewise bridle many unruly lusts, and gross enormities of life, and give alms to the poor, insomuch that he may very exactly resemble a true and sincere Christian, and be taken by all godly people to be indeed such an one; but notwithstanding all, it is but an artificial piece, it is but like a curious paint, or vainglorious garnish; it is not the image of God, it is not the new creature; though it looks like it, much resembles it, yet is not the same; for the man is a mere hypocrite, a counterfeit Christian, the work upon him being only the product of natural improvements, and not the effects of the saving operations of the Holy Spirit. (B. Keach.)

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