Whit-Sunday
May 23, 1858
“For the promise is unto you, and to your children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call,”—Acts ii. 39.
These words have been an occasion of great perplexity to Christians, not in one age, but almost in every age since they were spoken. Can it be said that the promise, which was fulfilled to the Apostles on the day of Pentecost, was fulfilled also to those who heard their words and to their children; has been fulfilled and is fulfilling itself in Britain, in North America, in Australia? That in all these countries men may ask for a Spiritual guidance and receive it, may seek for Sanctification and find it, is not questioned. Possibly such a blessing may transcend the one which was bestowed on the day of Pentecost. But are they the same? Is there any natural, necessary connection between them? Might not that purely internal privilege have been vouchsafed, though there had never been heard the sound of a rushing mighty wind, though the Apostles had never spoken with tongues? Did not that internal privilege belong to the holy men of the Old Testament? What would the epithet holy men signify, if they had it not? Why, then, are we taught to speak of Whitsuntide as if it were not merely the commemoration of a past event, but the assurance of a present power? If the power which was then exercised be really intended for the Church now, to what cause must its suspension be ascribed? May we look for its restoration, or is it indeed ours even now, if there were not a palsy over our hearts which prevents us from using it? There is one answer to the first of these questions which has always been felt to carry great weight with it. The Apostles were evidently taught to wait in Jerusalem for a power—a power which could qualify them for a certain work. No doubt they needed a pure heart for that work. But they would have needed a pure heart if they had never engaged in it, if they had passed their lives as fishermen in the Lake of Galilee. That which enabled them to become the Missionaries of the world, it is said, was a singular gift; it is expressly declared to be a gift of utterance, whereby they became intelligible to people of different races and tongues. Hence a new form has been given to the inquiry. May not this Pentecostal endowment be one specially belonging to the Christian Missionary? Can he hope to pursue his labours effectually if it be withheld? If the zeal and enterprise of Christians in the work of Heathen conversion had not slackened, might not this promise have been fulfilled to the latest as much as to the earliest ages?
I cannot help thinking, brethren, that there is more hope of our arriving at a right determination upon this question when it thus takes a practical shape, and connects itself with the sense of a duty to be done. While we are wishing for a power to work wonders with, we are likely to mistake grievously what we want; to charge God foolishly for not giving us that which could not profit us; at last, to dream that we have found a treasure which puffs us up with vanity, and proves worthless. But when we gird up our loins to a task, believing that we are called to it, and that it cannot be safely left undone, a number of phantoms which had looked goodly or formidable at a distance vanish away; our necessities become more real and more pressing, and the promises and dispensations of God are seen to meet them in a way altogether different from that which we had conjectured previously. We find that they are not limited to the particular occasion which has enabled us to apprehend their power, but that they apply to every possible condition and emergency of man’s being. Let us see if it be not so in this case.
1. The first thought of a Missionary contemplating the divisions of the globe, and hearing of their different dialects, might perhaps be, “Oh! what a barrier this of language is to all our efforts! If we could but surmount that, if we were but provided at once with words which these people could take in, with what hope we might bear to them the message of life!” But increased reflection, I apprehend,—still more increased experience,—would greatly alter his estimate of the nature of this obstacle, as well as of the power by which it must be overcome. If the acquisition of a mere vocabulary, or a number of vocabularies, were all that he needed, the zeal which brought him to a distant land for a high object would soon triumph over that difficulty. He might at first grudge the time during which he must be silent; gradually he would rejoice in that silence, as a golden opportunity, as itself a divine gift. For he would perceive that the words he was learning, so far as they expressed merely animal wants, so far as they were used merely for purposes of barter, could not serve his ends. To discover what deeper thoughts, unknown to those who used them, or only just dimly perceived by them, were latent in their speech; to recognize the affinities between it and the tongues of men who were conscious of their human wants; to hear the cries of a spirit, as out of a dungeon-keep, coming forth in these imperfect, scarcely articulate sounds; to consider in what swaddling-clothes of habits and traditions that spirit was enveloped, and how the voice of the deliverer might make itself heard through them: this would become the Missionary’s great desire and ambition. He would soon feel that, if he had the largest assortment of phrases, they would only be like the staff which Gehazi laid upon the dead child of the Shunamite. He would have to report, as the servant reported, “It is not awake.” He would have to learn that if there were to be the symptoms and throbbings of life in that corpse, it could only be when, like the prophet, he had brought his lips to its lips, and had breathed his breath into it.
2. A Missionary does indeed want the power of communicating with men in the dialect wherein they were born, but that communication implies very much more than we commonly understand by the gift of tongues. It implies an actual living sympathy with the creatures to whom he addresses himself; a sympathy with all that is weak and all that is strong in them; a sympathy with them as individuals; a sympathy with their race; a sympathy which shall enable him to detect, beneath its external modes and peculiarities, what special constitution God has assigned it; a sympathy which shall enable him to feel how its specific qualities are connected with that common humanity into which he desires it should enter. Think how difficult it must be to cherish such a feeling as this, when he is seeing every moment, in those whom he desires to influence and convert, qualities with which he cannot sympathize, with which he ought not to sympathize, which he is bound to hate,—cruelty, malice, falsehood;—when he is sometimes tempted to speak of those who have the features of men as only brutes, sometimes as nearly devils. The confessions of earnest Missionaries tell us how impossible the struggle would have been to them, if they had not been shown that there were in their own hearts the same tendencies to become brutes, the same capacity of becoming devils.
3. That awful revelation may hinder the teacher from refusing to consider his pupils as having the same nature with himself, as needing the same grace with himself. But it does not set him free from another obstruction, which he must become more conscious of, the more devoted he is to his task. He has himself been brought up in some town or village. He has been the member of some particular family. He has the habits, prejudices, temperament of the nation of which he is a citizen,—of the society in which his mind has been moulded,—of the particular teachers under whom he has studied. He has the feelings of a class, it may be of a narrow class. To throw off the impressions, the reverence, of his childhood, would always have been dangerous and wrong; he feels the necessity of them more, he clings to them with more affectionate tenacity, now that he is among strangers, among those who seem to be suffering from the want of his early associations, than he ever did before. And yet do they not, in some sense, make him stiff, unyielding, incapable of being what the Apostle of the Gentiles felt that, as a Missionary, he ought to be, all things to all men? How shall this difficulty be conquered? Surely, a mere gift of speaking languages would not conquer it. And yet, till it is conquered, he cannot hope to make idolaters actually hear, in their own dialect, the wonderful works of God.
4. There are other thoughts in the minds of a Missionary, besides those which concern his power of communicating with idolaters—thoughts which have reference to their idolatry itself. At first such thoughts must be very overwhelming indeed. These different worships—these different conceptions of God—do they not make the labours of the preacher quite infinite? They are all equally hostile to his message; they also make those who should listen to it unintelligible to each other. There is in them a continual tendency to multiplication. Every new appearance in Nature, every new circumstance in men’s lives, may call forth a new God. There is in them a continual tendency to deterioration. The Evil Spirit, the Destroyer, more and more supplants the Giver of Good, the Creator and Preserver.
Such a view of the world and its condition is appalling; but there is another. How is it that in all these idolatries there is such a witness of some common source of good, some Deliverer, some Reconciler, some one from whom life, and not death, must come? This fact is as indisputable as the other. Theorists may try to get rid of one, or to explain it away. The practical man must recognize both. They force themselves separately, they force themselves together, upon his notice. Somehow or other these men must have a relation to each other, in spite of their hostilities, in spite of their different worships; somehow that relation to each other must be grounded upon a common relation to the Living God.
You say that the divided tongues of the earth are a witness of the separation between human beings. Is there not a secret affinity which discovers itself more and more to those who study them earnestly for high ends, which is as mighty a witness to the unity between human beings? You say that all the religions of the earth testify that men cannot devise for themselves a common worship, cannot agree in any conception of the Being or beings to be worshipped. True; and do not all these religions also contain a declaration that there must be a common worship, and that, because men cannot arrive at any satisfactory notion of Him whom they are feeling after, He must come forth and tell them what He is, and raise them above their own poor, paltry notions, and show to what each of them has been pointing?
5. A Missionary who, through much experience and suffering, has been led to the apprehension of these truths, will see, I should think, a way through some of those difficulties to which I have alluded, and will find something very different in Whitsuntide from what we are wont to find in it. If he studies the records of the Apostles’ acts and thoughts in St. Luke’s narrative, or in their own letters, he will be startled by the absence of all evidence in favour of that opinion respecting the gift of tongues which has been so prevalent in the Church; by the number of passages which directly impugn it. He would perceive in the record itself no intimation that the gift to the Apostles was the gift of a certain number of words which they might use in teaching the nations. It would seem that St. Paul seldom, if ever, used any medium of communication, either in speaking or writing, besides Greek, except when he was addressing the citizens of Jerusalem. It would seem, from the Fourteenth Chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, that the gift, so far from necessarily involving the communication of intelligence to others, might be merely intelligible to him on whom it was bestowed. On that ground St. Paul contrasts it with prophecy.
Hence we are driven to accept St. Paul’s own explanation,—to adhere strictly to the letter of that explanation. He describes it as a sign,—a sign of something very important and precious; though not in itself, in any sense, the important or precious thing.
6. What then is the significatum? What is the truth to which this gift was the index, of which it was the pledge? Consider the narrative in the Second Chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, and see whether it does not tell us. A great Feast is held in the city of Jerusalem. It has been celebrated there for centuries. It speaks of a blessing renewed each year, of a continuous blessing. That wonderful mystery of seeds lying hid in the earth, and springing up in a form altogether unlike their own,—springing up to give bread to the eater, and fresh seed to the sower, is commemorated on that day. It affirms that the Author of this strange life in natural things is the God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob. This same Pentecost, so we are told, reminded the Israelites that they were under a Law which was given to their nation on that day when the Lord God descended amidst thunders and lightnings on Sinai, and declared that it was He who brought them out of the house of bondage. Therefore, Jews from all provinces of the Empire to which they had emigrated, or in which they had been born, came up to keep this Festival. It was the pledge that they were members of one race; that the same Creator fed them with daily bread who fed their fathers with manna in the wilderness; that the same King ruled over them who had given their fathers their law and their covenant. Besides all other ties, they had the tie of a common language, though every Jew would of course ordinarily speak the dialect of the country wherein he dwelt.
And now came those events which were to turn the special into the universal feast. On a set of poor men,—trained to a mechanical calling—despised by their countrymen,—but sharing their contempt for other nations—noted for an uncouth dialect,—there light cloven tongues as of fire. They have new powers of utterance. Men from the provinces of the Parthian, as well as the Roman world, hear them proclaiming the wonderful works of God in the languages of the lands where they have grown up. What does it mean? Is it a drunken inspiration? Have the orgies of a Dionysiac feast been brought into the Jerusalem worship? No, say the Galileans, we are the disciples and witnesses of One Whom your rulers crucified, Whom God has raised from the dead. A great and terrible day of the Lord is at hand. To prepare for such a day, to signify that He whom you rejected as your King is both Lord and Christ, that is poured forth which you see and hear. Repent therefore; acknowledge your true King and Lord; be baptized in His name, and you shall receive that gift of the Holy Ghost which we have received. For the promise is unto us and to our children, and to as many as the Lord our God shall call. Then three thousand are baptized. In the sect-ridden city of Jerusalem there arises a Society united in the name of the Son of David and the Son of God, the nucleus of a Society for all tribes and nations.
7. I will not stop to consider how the double meaning of the Pentecost was fulfilled and translated by this revelation of God as the Giver of life, not to seeds, but to men,—as writing those laws in their hearts which He had given on the Mount. I would fix your thoughts upon the sign itself. Cannot the Missionary who has felt the necessity of some words which shall reach not the ears, but the hearts of men,—of some power which shall carry those words to spirits that are needing life,—which can speak to the common humanity that is latent beneath the customs and tongues of different tribes,—which can enable the teacher to bear with their sins,—to believe that Christ is with them as well as sin,—which can enable him to break through the fetters of his narrow education, and become all things to all men; who has learned that the relations between men must be grounded on a common relation to God; who has been sure that only God can reveal that relation; who has half perceived that a revelation of it must in the highest sense be a revelation of God Himself as the ground and object of worship;—cannot he interpret these signs? Do not they interpret themselves to him? Could any others tell him the things which must be, and which he longed to perceive? Could any others tell him how his stammering lips may be opened, and he may speak out plainly to all men the wonderful works of God?
8. For surely, if this be the simplest and most natural reading of the Scripture narrative, the question is settled, whether the gift is for a certain age, or for all ages. A particular instrument or machinery for the conversion of the nations may be bestowed and withdrawn. But how can a Law be established in one period, reversed in another? Can a discovery of God’s own operation—of God’s eternal Nature—be a discovery for the first century, not for the nineteenth? If St. Paul is right, the gift of the Spirit was a revelation of that which had been hidden from ages and generations,—of the common fellowship of Gentile and Jew in Christ, of His glorification of our nature at the right hand of God. Is not the Missionary to the Caffre and the Hindoo as much bound to say, as the Missionary to the Greek of Corinth and Ephesus, “I have no power to speak a single word of life to any human creature. It is God’s Spirit who alone speaks that word. No schemes, doctrines, systems of men can unite any nations together. God has united them in His Son. God does bind them together by His Spirit. Schemes and systems do not build up new barriers between men, because they set up new and contradictory conceptions of God. The Spirit of God, teaching of the Father and the Son, leading men out of their narrow notions, can alone guide them into all truth”?
Yes, brethren, the Missionary, if he is seeking to do his work faithfully, will be brought to this conclusion; will be brought to confess that God’s words are not deceitful words, but words proved in the fire; not words for one age, but words that will last if heaven and earth pass away. But he will come to that discovery because it is the human discovery—the divine discovery—which each of us will make for himself, if we each seek to be honest in our vocations. We too must be brought to confess that our words are not our own; that they will become mischievous, accursed words, if we treat them as our own. We too must learn that the Spirit of God unites us to each other, that we should be everlastingly at war if He were not uniting us. We too must own that that Spirit is not given to any one of us for any faith or virtues of his own; that it is God’s gift to Christ, the Head and Corner-Stone of a Society which we enter when we abandon our separate selfish pretensions, and are content to be heirs of a common blessing.
9. So we can resolve the two difficulties of which I spoke at the beginning of my sermon. Holy men spoke in old times as they were moved by the Holy Ghost. They could have no other mover, no other inspirer, if they said any right word, if they did any right act. But the Holy Ghost was not yet given, because that Jesus was not yet glorified. It had not yet been declared that He is moving at the heart of humanity, that all nations have a common fellowship in Him. God had been revealed in His awful distinctness from man; the idolatry which would mould gods out of human conceptions had been denounced. He had not yet been fully revealed in His union with men. The only begotten Son, though He had always declared the Father, had not yet taken the flesh of man; had not said in that flesh, “He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father;” had not poured out His soul and body to death; had not raised His soul and body out of death; had not ascended on high, leading captivity captive, proving Himself the Priest and King of the universe. Therefore the Holy Ghost could not yet claim men as His temples; therefore He could not raise up a Church out of the one nation as a witness to all nations. Therefore the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, the one God blessed for ever, could not be fully manifested as the ground of a fellowship for all tribes and people and tongues.
The other difficulty was this. Does not the gift of tongues—and therefore that gift of which it was the sign—appear to have been practically withdrawn from us, in spite of God’s promise that all should inherit it? Yes, brethren! if Christian men love lies—if they think lies may help forward their Christianity the Spirit of Truth must seem as if it had left the Church. If Christian men love parties, and maintain parties to be essential to Christianity, the Spirit of Unity must seem as if He had left the Church. The Spirit who spoke by the Prophets appeared utterly to have deserted the people of Jerusalem, when they gave themselves over to the falsehoods against which Prophets lived and died to testify. The Spirit who had kept Israelites at one, appeared utterly to have forsaken the citizens of Jerusalem, when they became banded together in parties. And it was not a mistake—the Apostles on the day of Pentecost declared it to be awfully true—that the lying sectarian generation, which had refused Him who alone could bind it together, would be left to the curse it had chosen. But they signified at the same time by act and by word that the Spirit, instead of having forsaken mankind, was vouchsafing such proofs of His presence with mankind as had never been known before.
Thus we must believe it will be with those who have succeeded to more than Jewish privileges. So far as we choose lies, so far as we link ourselves to parties, so far we shall be left to the spirit of lies and division. But God’s oath will not fail. The text will be established to its very letter. To us the Spirit speaks, though we grieve Him with our lies and our hatred. He proves His presence by the misery, the helplessness, the shame which those lies and those hatreds produce. We have sown the wind for our children; we often predict that they will reap a whirlwind of superstition or infidelity. But through that whirlwind God will bring out the blessing which we have refused. In the destruction and overthrow of sects and parties our children may be blessed with the revelation of the one Lord, one Faith, one Baptism, one God and Father of all, of whom the Spirit has been through all ages testifying. And those who are afar off—the serfs of our own soil, Jews, Turks, Hindoos—will become part of the one fold under that One Shepherd whom the Father loves, because He laid down His life for the sheep, that they might be endued, once and for ever, with His living Spirit.