F. D. M. The Gospel of the Kingdom of Heaven

Lecture VIII. The Lord of the Sabbath

And he said unto them, That the Son of man is Lord also of the sabbath.—St. LUKE vi. 5.

THERE is one topic which each of the four Evangelists dwells upon; it would not be easy to say which dwells upon it most emphatically. That topic is the Sabbath Day. Evidently they regard our Lord’s words respecting it as illustrating the whole course of His teaching and of His life. His difference with the Pharisees respecting it was not an external superficial difference. It did not concern certain cases which might be taken out of a general rule. It was radical and essential. If they were right in their maxims respecting the Sabbath, He was utterly wrong; He was a subverter of God’s law, a blasphemer of His name. If He was right, they were not carrying a true principle to excess. Their principle was false. And it infected their whole conduct; it compelled them to reject the Son of Man; to deny that a Son of Man could be the Son of God.

There can be no doubt that this issue was involved in these controversies. All the Evangelists force it upon us. Read the report of the transactions which are recorded in this chapter as it is given in the twelfth chapter of St. Matthew, in the second and third chapters of St. Mark; read above all the fifth chapter and the ninth chapter of St. John; and you will feel, I am sure, that the battle was, in the judgment of the narrators, one of life and of death. So St. Luke tells us in the eleventh verse of this chapter, ‘And they were filled with madness; and communed one with another what they might do to Jesus.’ On the other hand, St. Mark records that when Jesus healed the man with the withered hand, ‘He looked round about them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts.’ There is no sentence exactly like that in all the gospels. Remember that Christ’s anger was caused by the objections which were raised against Him for breaking the Sabbath, and then consider whether the whole subject must not demand the most serious attention which we can give to it. The particular errors of the Pharisees may not be ours. The particular acts which Christ justified against them may not be acts with which we should find fault. But if it is a question of eternal truth, and of rebellion against that truth, we may be sure that the circumstances of our times will illustrate both the one and the other as much as the circumstances of that time.

The words which I have chosen are the words upon which the whole controversy turns. The Pharisees stood upon what seemed to them impregnable ground. ‘God has given us a law. By that law he has established an institution. He has allowed us six days in which we may do our own works. He has claimed one day for Himself. On that day He has commanded us to abstain from our works. On that day our services are due expressly and exclusively to Him.’ It was thus that they translated the words, ‘Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work: but the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God, in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor the stranger that is within thy gates.’ Was it not a most plausible interpretation? Will it not occur to some of us that there could not be any other? We might say so if another had not been given; if that other did not form a substantive part of the law itself; if that other was not the divine interpretation; if that other did not, in letter and in spirit, contradict the interpretation of the scribes. ‘For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them was, and rested the seventh day; wherefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day, and hallowed it.’ What difference did these words make? They declared (1) that work was divine as well as rest. They declared (2) that work was appointed for man by God just as rest was appointed for man by God. They declared (3) that human work was the image of God’s work, as human rest was the image of God’s rest. They said to the Israelite, (4) The Sabbath day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God, because He desires the manservant and the maidservant and the stranger in the gates to rest as well as to work; in other words, not to be excluded from any part of His blessedness. Set one of these statements against the other. Contemplate them in all possible lights, and see whether there can be two so utterly and absolutely contrasted in their meaning and in their effect. But yet observe how very naturally, how very easily, this amazing contrast may be obliterated; how confidently the words, ‘It is the sabbath of the Lord thy God,’ might be appealed to as establishing the doctrine that God insisted upon that day for His use; how certainly this doctrine would drive out every other when men had made a God after their likeness—had supposed that He was as self-seeking as they were.

No doubt there had been many divine precautions against this abuse. In the book of Deuteronomy another sentence is substituted for the one respecting the six days of creation and the seventh day. ‘And remember that thou wast a servant in the land of Egypt, and that the Lord thy God brought thee out thence through a mighty hand and by a stretched out arm: therefore the Lord thy God commanded thee to keep the sabbath day.’ Here the redemption of the Israelite from a hard and cruel bondage to taskmasters who cared nothing for those upon whom they inflicted it, is directly connected with the institution. It is not only a sign to him that he is made in the image of the Creator; it is a sign that the Creator is, what He is proclaimed to be in the preamble to the commandments, the Deliverer. The Sabbath, so said the Divine lawgiver, is a witness of my will to make the nation and all the members of it free, to break off a yoke from their necks. The Pharisee simply reversed the maxim of his sacred books. He converted the Sabbath into a sign of bondage. A taskmaster more cruel and powerful than Pharaoh had imposed it under tremendous penalties upon His subjects. And it was therefore esteemed a great gift and mercy that for six days they might be exempt from the service of such taskmaster. On those they might be their own masters or have the comfort of being only under the dominion of earthly masters. This had become there can be no doubt of it—the Pharisaic habit of mind. The Lord God, said that school, has enjoined upon us certain services, which must be punctually rendered. It is at our peril that we neglect them. The Sabbath day stands foremost in the list of obligations. It enters into the commandments themselves. Other duties may be desirable. We may gain many rewards by performing them. But this belongs to the whole land. This must be enforced upon every Israelite.

I. The question how it should be enforced, of course introduced a multitude of regulations, refinements, inevitable yet dishonest indulgences. There might be debates without end about what was to be tolerated and what was to be prohibited; debates most tormenting and at the same time most enervating to the conscience, drawing the man at every step farther from the service of the Lord God. Who could break this yoke? It was far more galling, far more destructive of the true Jewish life, far more fatal to the true Jewish worship, than the government of the Romans. Can we wonder that the Christ, who came to set at liberty them that were bound, should at the very commencement of His ministry and throughout it wage war with this form of oppression?

The first case recorded in this chapter brings out one of the Pharisaical rules for keeping the Sabbath day. His disciples are walking through the cornfields. As they walk they pluck the ears of corn and rub them in their hands. They are asked how they can do that which is unlawful on the Sabbath day. The answer comes in the form of an example from their own history. ‘Have ye not read so much as this, what David did, when himself was an hungred and they that were with him; how he went into the house of God, and did take and eat the shewbread, and gave also to them that were with him; which it is not lawful to eat but for the priests alone.’ To be confronted by an act of David was startling to the worshippers of precedent. The precedent too had a wide application. The institution of the shewbread had a purpose. One who knew its purpose could dare to break through any mere formalities relating to the observance of it. The hunger of David’s soldiers was a more sacred thing, in David’s judgment, than a rule about the priests. Did he not shew that he was a man after God’s own heart by acting as it were? Did not the Pharisees shew that they were not men after God’s own heart, by putting the institution of the Sabbath between man and God, when it was intended by God for man? The Sabbath, Jesus says in another Gospel, was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. Here He affirms the same doctrine as broadly in the words, ‘The son of man is Lord also of the sabbath.’ We must not alter this expression, or substitute for it any seeming equivalent of our own. He does not say, ‘I, being the Lord of all, the Son of God, can do what I like; I can make laws bend to my pleasure.’ He says the very contrary of this. He says, ‘I am the Son of Man, and as such—in that character—I claim the Sabbath as mine. I claim it for man. So doing, I am not destroying the fourth commandment, but fulfilling it. I am asserting in act that relation between God and man which it asserts in letters. I, the Son of Man, am claiming the Sabbath day as a divine ordinance for the deliverance of men, for the protection of men. I say that if it is used against men, as a mere arbitrary rule which they are to observe, its purpose is frustrated; it is turned from a blessing into a curse.’

We might have thought the complaint against rubbing the ears of corn a harmless folly—the superstitious exaggeration of a right feeling. He who knew what was in man perceived that it involved a direct denial of the very letter and sense of the commandment—an inhumanity which was sure to discover itself in other and more palpable forms. We have great reason to be thankful that the record of this walk through the cornfields has been preserved. If we had merely heard that Christ healed on the Sabbath day, it might have been said, ‘No doubt He made an exception for these cases. He authorised them on the Sabbath day by his example. But He certainly would not have sanctioned any indifferent acts, offensive to the religious feelings of His countrymen, which might have been avoided by a little vigilance. He would not have been displeased at any rules which enjoined the more rigid and careful observance of the holy day.’ He did, directly, solemnly, with all the weight of His authority, denounce one of these rules. He treated it as incompatible with any right apprehension of the divine law—with the freedom claimed by the true servants of God—with the confession of the Son of Man as Lord of the Sabbath day.

II. The next case, that of the withered hand, may shew us why He dealt so severely with the other objection, ‘It came to pass also on another sabbath, that he entered into the synagogue and taught: and there was a man whose right hand was withered. And the Scribes and Pharisees watched him, whether he would heal on the sabbath day; that they might find an accusation against him. But he knew their thoughts, and said to the man which had the withered hand, Rise up, and stand forth in the midst. And he arose and stood forth. Then said Jesus unto them, I will ask you one thing; Is it lawful on the sabbath days to do good, or to do evil? to save life, or to destroy it? And looking round about upon them all, he said unto the man, Stretch forth thy hand. And he did so: and his hand was restored whole as the other.’

The Pharisees are looking with keen hungry eyes upon one whom they have marked as their victim. To cherish these feelings, to be plotting murder, was not in their judgment at all unsabbatical. Their reverence for the law of God led them, so they believed, into this state of mind. Then comes forth the command to the sick man, to arise; the life-giving power which restores his body to its proper orderly state. Here is surely a sign of the Kingdom of Heaven; a sign of its nature; a sign that it was the fulfilment of the Law. And then the searching question follows, ‘Which is lawful—which is in conformity with the law of God—with the law of the day of rest—the exercise of the killing power, or of the renovating power? Am I keeping the Sabbath, or are you?’ No inquiry could be more exasperating. It must either have brought them to the feet of the Son of Man, or have led them to commune among themselves how best they could accomplish their design of putting Him to death. St. Luke recurs to this subject in his thirteenth and fourteenth chapters. I shall speak of those passages when they come before us in their order. ’They exhibit the Pharisaical character in another aspect; they belong to a later stage in the divine history. Meantime there are some very deep lessons—lessons, it seems to me, specially needful for our times which lie in the verses I have already considered.

III. (1.) The first is this. Many say ‘The Sabbath is an essentially divine institution. It rests on a divine commandment; therefore it is of universal obligation.’ Many say, ‘It is a national institution. It belonged to the Jews. If we adopt it, we do so out of deference to an old tradition or to our experience of its advantages, not to God’s appointment.’

There is much in each of these statements which commends itself to the conscience of Christian men. There is something in each of them which their conscience, I think, rejects. In the best state of our minds we cling most to divine commands. To appeal from man’s decrees to the judgment of the Righteous God is an elevation and emancipation of the spirit. Those who have been crushed under the opinions of their own age, under the traditions of other ages, under the burden of some dogmatist who practically or theoretically claims infallibility, feel the infinite blessing, the absolute necessity, of turning to the everlasting God; if He has not spoken, if He does not speak still as He spoke of old, they cannot breathe; they have no hope.

The Sabbath is a strong instance. See how it seizes the very principles on which the universe stands! How it connects work and rest with the nature of God, with the nature of man! How it harmonises the ideas of a resting God and a working God, which all mythologies, all philosophies, have rent in twain! How it associates these ideas with the common life of the vulgarest people! How it claims the highest blessings for the poorest man! Is there not divinity here? Can this be the device of imperial or priestly legislators? Can it be meant only for one period or one people?

And yet who can deny that the Sabbath was an institution for a certain people; that traces of the week are very faintly discoverable among any nations except the Jews, or those who have learnt from them; that great teachers of the Church denounced the Jewish sabbatising: that Jesus came to unite the nations, and that every struggle of the Jews to maintain their exclusiveness was in fact a struggle against Him?

If we suppose that He came to establish that Kingdom of Heaven for which the Law and Prophets were a preparation, and that we are living under this Kingdom, there is no contradiction in these opinions. We are then not more out of the range of the divine commandments than the men of old. The voice of God is speaking more directly to those who are born after the Incarnation than to those who were born before it. Therefore we have a right to claim this order of the week—the day of rest, and the days of work as a revelation of God—a revelation of His purpose in creating the world, of His purpose towards the race which He has created in His image. We have a right to tell all men, ‘It is no longer confined to one nation. It is a sign to you.’ And by speaking so, we protest in the name of God Himself—of the God of Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob—against the tyranny of those who would abuse the Sabbath day as the Pharisees abused it. We say, ‘The words to which you appeal are your refutation. Because the commandment is holy and permanent, all efforts to make the Sabbath a bondage are acts of treason against the King whom we obey.’

(2.) Again, it is often said, ‘There is a distinction between moral principles and positive institutions. The first are unchangeable, the latter are transitory. This distinction must be applied to the commandments, for it is grounded in the nature of things. The law concerning the Sabbath must have a different worth from the laws against murder and adultery.’

It is said on the other side, ‘How can you draw a line between God’s own precepts! How can you determine which is entitled to the greatest weight! Give up all or accept all. Do not let your distinctions overrule His wisdom.’ Here, again, there is that in our consciences which responds to each of these arguments—that which rebels against each. And again, I think it is the Gospel of the Kingdom of Heaven which vindicates the truth of both, and removes the confusion which is mingled with both.

The Gospel not only asserts in terms, but makes us feel practically, the truth of the difference between mere decrees which may be suitable for one time, unsuitable for another, and the eternal principles which belong to the nature of God and His relations with man. The distinction of the moral and the positive—is brought out with a fulness and practical strength in the New Testament which the mere verbal divisions of schoolmen, however useful, cannot approach.

But an institution may be a discovery of the nature of God, a discovery of His permanent relation to man, even more than any precept can be. I have tried to shew you that the institution of the day of rest and of the days of work is such a discovery. The law against murder reveals the care of God for life; the law against adultery reveals the care of God for the marriage bond. We perceive the morality of these laws in the benefit which they confer on men, in the mischief which comes from the violation of them. But when Christ draws forth their meaning, their essential morality, it is found that they point to a likeness in loving-kindness, in purity of heart, between the child on earth and the Father in Heaven. This likeness is set forth in the institution which the fourth commandment speaks of. It has, therefore, besides the practical benefits which are its test, as they are the test of the other commandments, an inward moral significance. That is expressed in the reason given for the Sabbath. And the failure to perceive that moral significance was the cause of all the Pharisaical scrupulosity—all the Pharisaical cruelty. We need not, then, divide the commandments, or set up our judgments of their respective value, in order to maintain this fundamental distinction of the positive and the moral. We shall realise it in the effort to keep them. We shall find that when we forget it we do not keep them. We substitute our own maxims for them. We subvert them.

(3.) The last remark leads me to notice another conflict of opinions by which many are perplexed. ‘You cannot refer to the Ten Commandments,’ it is said on one side, as the authority for your Sabbath. If you adhere to them you must follow them strictly. But you keep the first day, not the seventh. For that change you must urge some Church or State authority, or some long custom. Practically, therefore, that Church or State authority, or that long custom, is the warrant for the day, not the words spoken on Sinai.’ It is said in answer, ‘The principle of the institution is best preserved by the commemoration of the day on which Christ rose. Therefore we may claim for that day all the sacredness which belonged to the other day. We may learn the conduct which is fitting on the first day from the conduct which was fitting on the seventh.’

I recognise a justice—and I think the consciences of Englishmen generally recognise a justice—in these opposing statements. And I seek the reconciliation of them where I sought the reconciliation of the others. If the Law was leading on to a Kingdom of God—if in that only is the fulfilment of the Law—we may expect to find some sign of the transition from one to the other; some witness of an imperfection in that which was awaiting the full discovery of its own meaning. We have such a sign in the change of this day. This change has affected the order of life in the most civilised nations of the globe. You cannot account for it by any words of Apostles, by any regulations of Emperors, by any votes of Councils. You are obliged to give these a force which they do not possess; to put a violent strain upon sentences, or hints of sentences; after all, to assume a divine purpose as indicated or implied in them which must have given them their efficiency. If you believed in a Kingdom of God—if you thought that the New Testament was the declaration of such a Kingdom you would have no difficulty in saying, ‘I confess here the divine government working in the course of human life and history, as it works in the course of Nature, silently, unobtrusively, through agents known or unknown; but accomplishing its purpose, making it manifest in due time, fashioning human wills by no sudden effort into conformity with it.’

And therefore I entirely accord with those who plead the reason and principle of the fourth commandment as explaining the transgression of its letter. I see in that fact, as they do, the clearest witness of its divine origin, and of its divine preservation. But then if they take up that ground, I must ask them to maintain it consistently. Having once appealed to the reason of the commandment, they must not fall back upon the notion that it is the arbitrary institution of an arbitrary Being who commands without a reason, and would have us obey without a reason. I cannot appeal to the New Testament as a justification of the first day without accepting all the lessons and warnings of the New Testament respecting the seventh day. Those lessons and warnings are written with sunbeams on its pages. They cannot belong to one time only; they must be meant for all times. They cannot furnish us with an excuse for casting stones at the Pharisees, or judging the Pharisees. They must strike at Pharisaic temper, which is our temptation as much as it was the temptation of those who lived under the old covenant. Close to the real Sabbath, the divine Sabbath which carries a message to menservants and maidservants of the watchfulness of their Father in Heaven over them, of His desire that they should enter into the rest of which His creation speaks, and should take their places as free sons and daughters in His household—lies the spurious Sabbath, which speaks not of a Father but of an oppressor, which shuts out the calmness and beauty of the creation, which substitutes the condition of the slave for that of the adopted child. Beside that Sabbath of which the Son of Man is the Lord, which testifies of His life-giving acts for His suffering brethren, lies the inhuman Sabbath of the rulers of the synagogue—the Sabbath which leads men to regard the six days as the blessed days, because they are not God’s days. Yes; every good gift of the good God is dogged by some counterfeit, often undistinguishable from it in its outward shape; eternally opposed to it in its inward spirit. No man has a right to say to his brother, ‘Thou art keeping the evil Sabbath, and not the good.’

Every one may say, and ought to say, ‘Son of Man, Lord of the Sabbath, teach me to choose the good and to hate the evil; to delight in the one which will bind me more closely to Thee and to Thy Father, and to those whose nature Thou hast taken. Teach me to eschew the one which led men of my flesh and blood to trample on Thy flock, to deny Thy Father, to plot Thy death.’

The Gospel of the Kingdom of Heaven