Sermon 1
DYING TO LIVE
A Baccalaureate
Sermon Before the Graduating Class of Texas Holiness University, June
11, l905.
John xii. 23-28
"And Jesus answered them saying, The hour is come, that the Son of man
should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a grain of
wheat fall into the earth and
die, it abideth by itself alone; but if it die, it beareth much fruit.
He that loveth his life loseth it, and
he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.
If any man serve me, let him
follow me; and where I am, there shall also my servant be: if any man
serve me, him will the
Father honour. Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father,
save me from this hour. But
for this cause came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name."
This passage is
one of the most complete statements in the whole Word of God of the
dignity and glory of self-sacrifice. The truth is here put with all the
Savior's inimitable art of
statement. Our thoughts are brought to consider the great law of
sacrifice which, now dark and
forbidding, and now radiant and glorious, runs through the whole
creation of God. It is a law
without which society could not hold together nor our race live;
without which, indeed, the whole
animal kingdom would become extinct. We shrink from sacrifice if we are
base and selfish. We
are drawn toward it if, and just so far as, we are noble. It is at once
so difficult and so satisfying!
so radically opposed to our innate selfishness, and so inseparably
connected with our highest
sympathies and noblest impulses! It is enshrined in our affections as
connected with the life of Him
who is the center of our faith. It is intimately interwoven with the
highest theory and practice of
Christian ethics. We must, therefore, in our religious study and
meditations give this theme of
sacrifice more than ordinary attention. We must study it; we must
question it; we must wrestle with
it until the gloom of its darkness changes into the radiance of its
brighter aspects, and it gives us a
blessing as its shadows flee away.
I. Then let us
look at its dark side -- involuntary sacrifice. How very dark it is! The
constant suffering! The necessary pain! The inevitable sacrifice of
beautiful, glorious life in
innumerable ways, to sate the insatiable maw, not of death, but of
other life!
It has been so
from the beginning of earth's history. The rocks which we unearth today
have
their fossil remains, skeleton inside of skeleton, mute witnesses of
what transpired on the primeval
earth. Life everywhere fed upon life, one creature being sacrificed to
keep another creature alive.
And the same dark, mysterious spectacle is witnessed around us every
hour. From the lowest form
of insect life, through all grades of being up to man, we behold one
preying upon another.
Sometimes an insect carries about the germ of another attached to its
back, that will in time take its
life. We behold the feeble and the little sacrificed to the appetite of
the large and the strong. Insects
are consumed by other insects, by reptiles and by birds. The mouse and
the sparrow are the
ordained food of the hawk. The smaller fish are eaten by the larger.
The lamb is the prey of the fox
and the wolf. The kid is pounced upon by the eagle. The antelope is
devoured by the leopard, and
the lion and the tiger leap upon the o x. They all live by sacrificing
each other and cannot live
without it.
Man! he, too, lives by the
slaughter of innocents, and the vastest and most costly sacrifices
are made to satisfy his carnivorous appetites. Man in a real sense
lives upon his fellowman. I refer
not now to cannibalism, nor to the way in which human lives and human
interests are often
sacrificed to the selfish ambition, or the grasping avarice, or the
cruel hate, or the devouring lusts
of men. I refer only to the sacrifices made to the wants and
necessities of others. You each live,
day by day, because others sacrifice and suffer and die for you. You
can scarcely help yourself
even if you would; for dependence upon the sacrifice of some one is a
necessity of civilized life.
As you sit with your family
before the cheerful coal fire in the grate, did you ever once
reflect that you have that blessing only because multitudes of men
spend their lives underground in
the depths of coal mines, covered with filth, and constantly exposed to
pestilence and explosion
and death? You travel over land and sea, and ship your goods and grain
and cattle at a great speed;
but the engineers and firemen and brakemen who drive the trains and
handle the cars are
prematurely cut off. Their lives are shortened to serve you. The man
who blows the glass that lets
the health-giving and cheerful light into your homes knows that the
number of his days will be
lessened. The metallic goods, gold and silver and plated, and steel and
iron ware, are made by
workmen who will sooner or later be killed by the dust they must
inhale, and the necessary dangers
of their occupations. 1 have seen the pale workmen making these goods,
wearing sponges over
their nostrils. But nothing wholly avails. You want the goods; they die
to make them.
You go to your stores and
buy beautiful fabrics and ready-made apparel. You marvel at
their cheapness,, but always want them a little cheaper. They are cheap
-- cruelly, wickedly cheap
-- because the work was undersold and underlet; undersold to you at the
price of the cheap
life-breath of suffering mortals -- poor men and women compelled to
labor by the necessities of
their lot, and crushed to death by the competition and rivalry of trade
while they stitched and
embroidered for you, it was as Tom Hood wrote in his immortal poem:
"Stitch, stitch, stitch,
In poverty, hunger and dirt,
Sewing at once, with a double thread,
A shroud as well as a shirt"
And so remember, with at
least a little humane pity, when you buy and wear these
wondrously cheap things, remember
"O men with sisters dear,
O men with mothers and wives,
It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives."
The makers of certain kinds
of lace must work in very dim light, and always go blind. In
our great iron-mills, by an explosion or the bursting of a pot, men are
often roasted alive by a great
mass of molten metal. City, policemen are shot down in the defense of
other people's homes, and
city firemen are often burned to death to keep the property of others
from being burned. The
pioneers of civilization cut down the forests, drain the swamps and the
marshes, fight wild beasts
and savages, and die doing it; but others who come after them enter
into the fruits of their labors,
and enjoy what they have wrought.
Probably a thousand men will
lay down their lives for every mile of our isthmus canal; but
the Nation wants it, the world needs it, and they die to give it to us.
And so on endlessly.
We may, by Christian effort,
alleviate this suffering somewhat, and thus mitigate some of
the sternness of this law of sacrifice; but still it will remain,
woven, dark and cruel though it seems
to be, into the very fabric of our being, our progress, and our
civilization.
II. Let us now consider the
voluntary sacrifice. This is the brighter side. There is now
something Divine in its purpose and holy in its results, and we are
able, partially at least, to
understand it. The generous, the unselfish, the pure, the holy, lavish
themselves upon the base and
the unthankful. They suffer in the sufferings of others, and stand
between them and the normal
results of their wrong-doing.
All our voluntary benevolent
societies that labor among the poor and vicious, all our free
hospitals and charitable institutions, our friendly inns, social
settlements, temperance and
missionary organizations, are so many proofs that the provident and the
good are voluntarily
bearing the burdens of the vicious. Somebody must cure these public
evils that make society rotten.
Somebody must rescue the children that are born in haunts of vice.
Somebody must forget ease and
self-indulgence, and put a precious home behind him and go after the
drunkard, the criminal and the
abandoned, or society is undone.
Yes, some, at times, must
enter the ranks and brave their bosoms to the missiles of death,
and consent to be mowed down by the privation and sickness of the camp
that liberty may not
perish, that nations may live.
And glorious as this
patriotic sacrifice is, you can find sweeter and quite as noble
vicarious sacrifice in the quiet obscurity of home and daily life,
unnoted of men, and appreciated
by and known only to God.
There are parents caring for
unworthy children, sitting with them through long days and
weary nightwatches in illness, bearing their needless sorrows in
thankless sympathy and service,
and agonizing over their wretched sins. I have known an elder sister,
by far the most gifted mind in
the family, to care for a sick mother for twelve long years, and care
for the home and the father;
and then she helped three brothers and a sister to an education,
putting two of them through college,
working for years from early morning till midnight to do it, her own
mind and heart hungering for
the opportunity, she was giving to them, until she was broken in health
by the cruel strain. And then
she was flung aside by those whom she had served. I sometimes think the
shining sun looks upon
nothing more Divine among men than such sister-love.
Now, you take all these
noblest acts of benevolence, all these voluntary immolations of self
for the good of others which human history affords, fashion them
together into one harmonious
whole then lift them up into infinite exaltation, and you have none
other than the Character of God
Himself as He stands related to sinful and suffering man -- the God of
vicarious sacrifice, The God
Of Love.
III. We see in Jesus the
interpretation and perfect illustration of this Divine law of
sacrifice. Hear the blessed words of the text: "Jesus answered them,
saying, The hour is Come that
the Son of man should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you,
except a grain of wheat fall into
the ground and die it abideth alone: but if it die it bringeth forth
much fruit. Now is my soul
troubled. And what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour. But for
this cause came I unto this
hour. Father, glorify thy name." Here, you see, is the Incarnate God
bowing down submissive to
His Own Sacred Law Of Sacrifice. Not without the anguish and the
struggle, not without the
shrinking of soul which characterizes our own worthiest deeds; but yet
He hesitates not. As the
grain of wheat must abide alone except it be cast into the furrow and
there perish, so, if He would
save others, Himself he cannot save.
But He came to save others.
And, if it be possible, He will save them at whatever cost to
Himself. He therefore keeps back the prayer, "Father, save me from this
hour," which instinctively
comes to His lips, and breathe out the petition, "Father, glorify thy
name." He bows to the
inevitable condition and makes the sacrifice.
Friends, from a human
standpoint of vision, was ever a life so completely thrown away, so
utterly lost? Taking into account the transcendent qualities which
Jesus possessed, the keenness of
intellect, the penetration, the foresight, the ability to read human
nature, the sagacity, the
magnetism, the force of character all of which he possessed in
unequaled measure, and which He
might have used to His own advantage, was ever life so thrown away?
History does not afford the
parallel of one who, with such matchless abilities and opportunities,
so utterly squandered them,
and was so completely bankrupted of results. By an easy use of His
remarkable powers He might
have acquired vast possessions; but He purposely became and remained so
poor that He had not
where to lay His head often suffering from unappeased hunger, always
eating the bread of charity,
and redeemed only by love from abject want.
No other man could have so
swayed the masses and created enthusiasm for himself; but He
never did, and never tried to gain a permanent popular following. He
might have handled the
influential political leaders of His day, and lifted Himself to the
summit of power; but He never
sought their allegiance, or even made their acquaintance. He
established no new school of
philosophy, as other great minds before Him had done; He gained no
popular influence; He wrote
no books and left not even a line behind Him. He did not make or alter
one law; He did not seat or
unseat one ruler; He did not cast down one heathen altar, or break one
poor slave's chain, or alter
one custom. The religions of the world were, when He died, precisely
what they were when He
was born. The governments were as scheming, as corrupt, as tyrannous,
as wicked. He was tried
as a common criminal, and made no defense. He was put to death between
two thieves, and all
seemed utterly and disgracefully lost.
At that hour a thoughtful
man might have likened His life to a comet of surpassing brilliancy
which had suddenly and unexpectedly appeared from some unknown quarter
of the heavens,
attracted a brief attention, and then had as suddenly disappeared, to
be as soon forgotten. No
husbandman ever went into his field and sowed the grains of wheat more
carelessly than did Jesus
apparently throw His chances away. Was ever life so irretrievably lost?
But, yet, with the halo of
that cross lighting up the centuries, and destined, as we know, to yet
flood the whole world with its
light, we are able to add, was ever life so gloriously saved in the
losing?
Ah! how supremely wise was
the Redeemer's conduct, and how Divine His example! This
outpouring of God's own life that others might have life and have it
more abundantly! The great
heart of love, "touched with a feeling of our infirmity" and beating in
sympathetic pulsations with
the fevered pulse of a suffering humanity! beholding our ruin and
hasting to our redemption! It was
the self-sacrificing love of God in full display, taking our place and
suffering in our stead that you
and I, my hearer, and all who will believe, might not perish.
And this was God's way to
lift men. It was just then that God was glorified. No other act so
became Him. The glory of creating sixty millions of worlds and suns was
nothing in comparison!
The moment of His extreme humiliation was the moment of supreme
triumph. His death hour was
the first hour of His reign as a redeeming God. Then was infinite love
tested and found true. Then
was infinite grace manifested. Then the anthem, "Worthy is the Lamb,"
began to be sung, and those
hallelujahs of praise which shall continually rise and swell and roll
in, in ever-increasing waves
of melody, till Heaven and earth are full of His glory were first
heard! And now notice:
IV. This is the law of
godlikeness for us. Hear Jesus state it. "He that loveth his life shall
lose it: and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto
life eternal. If any man serve me,
let him follow me: him will my Father honor."
1. We can reach our own
highest good only by a death to self. There is a something within
us inherited from old Adam that is so infused into all our faculties
that it becomes ourself. We may
call this inheritance "depravity," or "the old man," or "the carnal
mind," or "the law of sin and
death." It matters not by what name it goes, it is a dark, diabolical,
perverting thing. It corrupts the
heart, perverts the sensibilities, defiles the imagination, drugs the
conscience, weakens the will.
"The whole head becomes sick and the whole heart faint." This vile
infection so possesses every
faculty that there is no moral soundness in us.
A human life thus defiled by
this satanic virus is alienated from a life of love and a God of
love. It does not take to godliness. It has a subtle affinity for evil,
a trend downward, a propensity
for sin and self-indulgence. It displays inordinate selfishness,
regardless of the interests of others
and the glory of God. Hence, Jesus said this self must die.
"There is a foe of hidden power
The Christian well may fear.
More subtle far than outward sin,
And to the heart more dear.
It is the power of selfishness,
The proud and willful I;
And ere my Lord can reign in me,
My very self must die."
When a
child of God fully consents to it and seeks the blessing with all his
heart, this
propensity to evil can be taken out by the baptism with the Holy
Spirit. It was only subdued in
regeneration; it was not destroyed. It was put down; it was not put
out. It "as held in with bit and
bridle; but it is a troublesome, fiery steed, ready to run away with
its driver at any moment. It
pleads for its life; but it must be given over to die. In other words,
the heart that has it must consent
to die to all that the natural man holds dear, die to all but holiness
and God. When all is put on the
altar for death, the heavenly fire will fall and consume the dross of
the heart. The "old man" will
die, and from his grave will come forth "the new man, created in
righteousness and holiness of
truth."
2. We must
thus die to live in the largest usefulness. "Except the grain of wheat
fall into the
ground and die it abideth alone." It is the great Christian paradox,
which Christ Himself so fully
illustrated. Die to live; lose your life in order to save it. He who
lives for himself only makes an
utter failure of life. On the contrary, he who lives as if he hated
life, who lays all the forces of his
life on the altar of Jesus to be used in the service of God and
humanity, he keeps and saves himself
unto life eternal.
This is
the essential condition and law of divinest usefulness. "If any man
will serve me,
let him follow me: and where I am there will also my servant be."
Follow Jesus in the death of
self-sacrifice, in His indifference to worldly honors, and His contempt
for worldly riches and
human applause. Follow Him to the firing line, where the cause of right
is the most unpopular, and
truth is shot at and stabbed by dagger tongues, and the battle is
hottest for temperance and
righteousness, for humanity and God. Follow Him when others falter and
fail, when others hiss and
wag their tongues and curse goodness, and cry with the hate of Hell,
"Crucify him, crucify him!"
To follow Jesus then, through the judgment hall and over the Via
Dolorosa and up the steeps of
Calvary, while demons howl and rocks rend and darkness settles, and
Goodness and Love are
crucified, is to walk the path of honor and get the crown of final
glory.
I entreat
you who are young to learn this all-important lesson. You are not yet
hardened by
the deceitfulness of sin. You are deliberately adopting
life-principles. On the one hand, you see
men; all too numerous, who are grasping, selfish, ambitious,
unscrupulous, eager to ride to place
and power, and willing to crush anybody, and to sacrifice any human
interest to do it. On the other
hand, here is the perfect God-man, and all who would be like Him,
giving themselves to the
ministry of others. Which company will you join? The lesson of Jesus'
life is this; the path to the
divinest and most enduring usefulness lies through the sepulchre where
self-seeking is buried.
Give thy life away if thou wouldst save it forever! In the meanest,
over-reaching, selfishness, labor
to make the most of thy little self; so shalt thou lose thy life, thy
soul, thy all!
Oh, how we
need this lesson! And I thank God that more and more men are learning
it.
There are multitudes today who are poor because they would be honest
and unselfish. They
preferred usefulness to a large bank account, and riches of character
to riches of purse. They have
saved but little; yet they have saved conscience and truth and
self-respect and love and faith -- true
manhood. They have comforted sorrow, and cured ignorance, and redeemed
from vice, and made
the lives of others better. They need none of your pity, for they have
laid up abundance on high.
I have known a wife to live
with a drunkard husband. For his sake and her children's she
consented to be covered with shame and disgrace. She told me her
parents did not know of her
anguish. She had but to speak a word and her family would fly to her
rescue; but she concealed her
wretchedness and suffered on. And there are innumerable such wives and
mothers who are martyrs
to debauchery and dissoluteness, and who die daily for others. There
are daughters who are
sweetly pouring out their lives in the care of aged parents and thus
are clothing themselves with the
white robes of the saints.
There are some of God's
purest who are sacrificing the enjoyments of home and health and
strength and fortune to press upon the consciences of this guilty
nation the moral reforms of the day.
Others are sailing to foreign shores to carry the Gospel of Christ to
thankless heathen; others still
are giving of their very living to keep them there.
"Sarah Hosmer, of Lowell,
Mass., though a poor woman, supported a student in the
Nestorian Seminary, who became a preacher of Christ. Five times she
gave fifty dollars, earning
the money in a factory, and sent out five native pastors to Christian
work. When sixty years old,
she longed to furnish Nestoria with one more preacher of Christ; and,
living in an attic, she took in
sewing until she had accomplished her cherished purpose. In the hands
of this consecrated woman,
money transformed the factory girl and the seamstress into a missionary
of the Cross, and then
multiplied her sixfold." She died to live; and the story of her life is
as fragrant as the alabaster box
of ointment poured upon the head of Christ.
I know of women who have
dedicated themselves to the care of half a hundred children
apiece in orphanages, mothering the offspring of want and sin without
other compensation than the
smile of Christ. Others can be named who go from homes of abundance and
culture and purity to
fish fallen girls out of the purlieus of vice in our great cities. They
have been fitly called the angels
of the slums; and they are fitting themselves to be the companions of
angels forever.
We might point to teachers
and preachers in great numbers who are toiling faithfully and
enthusiastically for a small fraction of the earthly compensation they
might have gained in some
other avocations. Gratitude should lead us to remember the men in the
Cabinet of our Nation who
have laid aside a professional income more than ten times greater than
their pittance of a salary,
that they may serve their country. And one of them, Secretary Hay,
turned from the enjoyment of
wealth and the sweets of literature and authorship, to serve his Nation
and his age. He became the
greatest diplomat of his times, but died prematurely, a sacrifice on
the altar to bless mankind.
O, the spirit of Christ is
abroad over the world. It is ennobling and sanctifying human
hearts. Under its holy inspiration men are living and toiling, they are
suffering and dying for others.
At times some are troubled in soul like their Master before them, and
cry, "How long, O Lord, how
long?" He answers them: "Suffer child, and sacrifice a little longer."
And they toil on for others,
and lose life itself on their heaven-appointed Calvary. Then are they
glorified. These are they that
come up out of great tribulation, to wear crowns of usefulness and
eternal victory. "He that saveth
his life shall lose it:" he that gives it in sacrifice shall keep it
unto life eternal. May God keep us
all from the consuming canker of selfishness, and help us to give
ourselves to the service of Christ
and this dying world.