“And now, little children, abide in Him, that when He shall appear we may have confidence and not be ashamed before Him at His coming.”—1 St. John ii, 28.
These words are fit for St. John’s day if any in the Bible are. They were written by St. John; they were meant for those among whom St. John dwelt. They show us the very mind and heart of St. John, and they belong to Christmas time if any words in the Bible belong to it. They tell us what the meaning of Christmas day is; how we have and may have the blessing for which we ask in the collect that we repeated on Friday, and have been repeating again this evening; and they are words for the last Sunday in the year if any in the Bible are. They make known to us what has been the error of one and of all of us in the year that is going; they make known to us what we want and may have in the year that is coming, and in all the years that we are to spend on earth, and when we have left the earth.
St. John was a very old man when he wrote these words. They sound like the words of a father, and no doubt he felt like a father to all who were about him rich and poor—to all of whom he had spoken concerning Christ, to all who had been baptised into Christ’s name.
Sometimes he says ‘my little children,’ but he does not say so here. I am not sure that he meant it; I think it was far more in his mind that all to whom he was speaking were God’s children, redeemed by Him from their enemies, owned by Him as His sons and daughters.
St. John was soon to go out of this world; most of his friends had gone already. Those who had heard his voice were to hear it no more; those who had looked up at his venerable face, and loved to see him smile, were to see him no more. But his words were to live on; he himself was to live on. His words were to be heard in distant parts of the earth, in countries which he did not know, in languages very unlike that which he spoke. And the words would not be mere words in a book; he himself would speak the words; he, the man who leaned on Christ’s breast at supper; he, the man who heard Christ saying after he had ascended on high, ‘I am the first and the last, the beginning and the end.’
Wherever in any part of the world there is a congregation of Christian men met together on this day, he is saying to them ‘You are God’s little children.’ Some of them may be grown men, some of them may be stepping into their graves full of years. Still they are in the sight of God little children. How few the years of the oldest of them have been in comparison with the ages in which the world has lasted, and how few in comparison with the ages upon ages in which He has lived. They would be little children just beginning a life that was to go on through His ages. So it was with those who saw St. John; so it is with us who are here to-day. God speaks to us all as little children, and we ought all to like the name, and to desire as our Lord bids us to become little children that we may indeed enter into His kingdom.
Well!—that is the name by which we are addressed—remember it when you see infants brought to the font in this church, and signed with the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Remember that they are taken into the congregation of Christ’s flock, that they are members of His body. And recollect that you are members of His body, one and all of you, just as they are, and that you only live because you are so.
We say this again and again. You listen to the sounds. Oh, do not fancy them to be idle sounds, which mean nothing; they mean everything. Let us try and find out what they mean. Nothing will help us to do so better than the sentence which I have just read to you—“And now little children abide in Him, that when He shall appear we may have confidence, and not be ashamed before Him at His coming.”
I. A little child who is told by its father or mother to abide or stay in a house where it has been left, understands very well what the command means. Some of its playfellows may ask it to come out into the street, or to go into their house, but that is not to be. The child may yield to them, but it knows if it yields that it is doing wrong. But what is the house in which St. John says we are to abide? We want a home for our hearts, just as much as we want a home for our limbs. Every one of us is looking for such a home. We need something, as we say, to set our hearts upon, and we try a number of things. Some you know try money. They set their hearts upon that; they long for it. When they succeed in getting it, their hearts become shut up in it; they seem as if they could never get away from it; they abide in it. But it is a poor dwelling-place. They become uneasy and restless in it; they say it is not large enough; they must have much more money, or they have not room enough to breathe. Young men sometimes complain of old men for liking this money so much. They see other things which they like better to abide in; they try various pleasures, some good, some bad, but none last long enough, none will give a man space to rest in, and those which suit one do not suit another. And some desire to have some possession which they cannot enjoy together, so they have to struggle each one to drive out the other. Could there not be a home for all? Could there not be something in which we might abide together? Could not there be something in which we might abide for ever? What we are told at our baptism is that there is such a home for us all. The home is a person, is a friend. We are baptised into Jesus Christ; we put on His name; we claim Him as the Lord and Friend and Brother of us all. We say that He took the nature of us all; that He died for us all. We say that He has risen for us all, and is at the right hand of God for us all. That is what we start from before we can speak or think. ‘And now,’ says St. John, ‘when you can speak and think, act as if this were so; act as if you had this Friend; let your hearts stay in this home; do not go out of it; when you have gone out of it return to it as quickly as possible.’
But how, you will say? Have we not our different works to see after? Must we not each in his own place be getting bread for ourselves and our children? Can the carpenter be neglecting his tools, and the shoemaker his last, and the physician his patients, and the lawyer his clients, that he may be seeking after this home?
No, verily; if the carpenter does neglect his tools, or the shoemaker his last, or the physician his patients, or the lawyer his clients, he will not find this home; he will not know what need he has of it; he will not be able to abide in it. The harder a man works, the more he learns that he cannot let his thoughts go astray. They must be fixed somewhere. They must be turned to some one who will show him how he must pursue his business heartily, not lazily, honestly and not like a rogue, as a freeman, not as a slave. Abide in this Lord of your hearts; set your heart upon Him and you will get this help. I am not speaking about coming to church. That is a good and blessed thing to do, because there you may get strengthened and may learn what you have to do with each other, and who is with you at your right hand that you may never be moved. You may learn that in the Psalms, and in the prayers and the Lessons, and sometimes our sermons may teach you a little about it. But I am speaking about our common weekday life, about that which comes to us every hour. There come to us ten thousand little trials continually. We are tempted to lose our temper; to be very angry with that which happens to ourselves; to lay the blame upon our neighbours; to cheat just a little when no one can find it out; to make ourselves beasts instead of men. Now whenever such base thoughts and desires surprise any man, when they come to him from other people, or out of his own heart, a man may say boldly, ‘I belong to Christ; I am a member of His body; I know He is on my side; I know the devil is against me; but Christ has overcome the devil; therefore will I call upon Him. I will say, “Son of God, I am very weak, but Thou art very strong. Let not these enemies prevail over me. Thou hast said, I shall be more than conqueror—because Thou lovest me. Oh! conquer for me now; I need Thee now.”’ That is abiding in Christ. That is what St. John bids us do, because we are God’s little children. And when we have not done this, when we have forgotten Christ, and let the Devil prevail with us, then the message to repent and turn is not a sad one, but is very cheering and comfortable. “My little children,” says St. John, “these things write I to you, that you sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ the righteous; and He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but for the sins of the whole world.” I do not see how there can be better tidings than these. They are the tidings which were brought to us when we were invited to eat the bread and drink the wine in remembrance of Him who had taken our nature upon Him, and had purified it from all sin. We were taught that He has united us to God our Father in heaven. He does not change, though we change; He abides always the same. Therefore we may abide in Him, if we are ever so weak, if we have stumbled and fallen ever so many times.
II. And then the words go on—“That when He shall appear we may have confidence in Him.” When He shall appear! You see he takes it for granted that Christ will appear. The apostles never have the least doubt upon that point. They tell those of their own day that He would be seen by every one of them; they tell us who read their letters how that He will be seen by every one of us. Men had longed for One who should come and show them what God was; who should come and rule over them in His name. We believe that Christ did come in great humility; that He was laid in a manger; that He did show what God His Father is; that He did show Himself to be the ruler over men. Therefore we believe that He will put His enemies—Death, Sin, and Hell—under His feet; that He will claim the earth which He has redeemed. Do you think it is hard to believe this? Very hard indeed it is for a sick person who is tossing on his bed and can find no rest, for a lonely man who has lost himself on the hills at night, to believe that the sun will ever rise. But the sun does rise, and fill the world with his light. So when we feel our own evils, and when we look on all the wrongs and oppressions of the world, we cannot help fancying that the Deliverer is very far away, and has forgotten us. But He is not far away; He has not forgotten us. And St. John tells every sufferer, and every man who feels the burden of his sins, how he may find that out. ‘Abide,’ he says, ‘in Christ. Hold fast by Him, though He seems to be far away, that you may have trust and confidence in Him when He does appear; accustom yourselves to believe in this righteous Lord and Friend; get into the way of asking His help in your troubles; get into the way of asking Him to keep you from doing wrong things, and to help you to do what is right. When you are puzzled, ask Him to teach you what is wrong and right. And then you will be always wishing to know Him more; you will long for the day when He shall scatter all the darkness away from the earth; you will cherish the hope of His appearing as the best of all hopes.’
III. But he speaks also of “not being ashamed before Him at His coming.” You know how ashamed we have sometimes been when a dear friend—some one who cared for us, and for whom we had a great respect—came suddenly and found us doing things that we ought not to be doing, thinking thoughts that we ought not to be thinking. It is not because this person is our enemy that we are afraid of him; it is not because he is wont to be hard with us. We were afraid because he was so good and so kind. We dared not let him see how hard and unkind and wicked we were. So the New Testament speaks of our Lord’s appearing. It says that we may be ashamed before Him, just because He has been so good and gracious to us, and we have cared so little for His goodness and graciousness, and because we have had such cruel thoughts of Him, because we have been so unlike Him in all our ways and works. A fearful thing that is to think of, that because Christ is so gentle, and cares for us all, and never forgets us for a moment, and is always seeking to make us like the things which He likes, we may be ashamed to meet Him. But then this need not be. If you determine not to think of Him as your enemy, but as your best friend, who has given you all you have; who renews His gifts day by day; who gives you the power of enjoying what He sends you—if you recollect that when He denies you anything, or takes anything from you, it is to prepare you for something better; to prepare you for being with Him; if you are sure since He gave Himself for you He is always ready to do more for you than you can ask or wish—then you will wait for His appearing and long for it, then you will mourn that you have spent this old year so little trusting in His help, so little hoping for more knowledge of Him, so little trying that your fellow men should trust Him and know Him. Then you will ask that the new year may find you claiming your rights as new born men, as God’s own children. Then you will desire that each day of the coming year you may grow more to confide in Him, and to be like Him; then you will pray that whichever of us is taken this year out of the sight of his brethren on earth, may not really be removed from fellowship with them; you will pray that we may meet him, though we cannot see him. Whenever we are met here to pray and praise you will desire that when next Christmas comes we may be really able to join with sufferers on earth, and with angels and archangels round His throne, in that great Christmas hymn which St. John has taught us—“Glory to Him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever.”