Earnestness

Bs earnest; be natural; be as unliJce a hooh as possihh — that is about all I have to say upon the science of liomiletics; these are only beads, however, and after the manner of preachers you will look for a little expansion.

As to the first bead it is bappily unnecessary in your case that anything should be said merely in the way of exhortation. Your young heart glows with love to Jesus Cbrist, and with many a vow you have committed yourself to the holy work of publisbing His name; this is the best of all beginnings; if you bad begun elsewbere you would have accomplished a swift journey to a failure as miscbievous to others as it would have been bumiliating to yourself. Your earnestness is my chief joy. Tbe Cross is the strength of your heart, as it is to be the tbeme of your ministry; it is, you say, increasingly the solution of the mystery of life; it comes to your aid as an interpreter of all sorrow, and gives you views of sin wbicb stir you with irrepressible desire to warn men to flee from the wrath to come. Tbe manner in wbicb you speak of the Cross is, to my own mind, the best assurance of the success wbicb awaits your ministry; your apostolic entbusiasm shall not be wanting in apgstolic results; be wbo uplifts the Cross shall surely sbaro the exaltation and blessedness of bis Lord. This holy earnestness will affect for good your entire relation to the life and service of the sanctuary, making you covetous of time, impatient of all trifling, sincere in sympathy, at once dauntless and tender in the exposition of truth, a watchful servant and a brave soldier. There are men who unhappily imagine that it is necessary to be fussy in order to be earnest, and who wear a label on which is written in coloured letters, This is an earnest man!” When a man is really earnest he needs no label; he is a living epistle; his whole life is his commendation. The most earnest men whom I have ever known, whether in business or in the ministry, have made their earnestness rather than heard; to be within the circle of their influence was to know that there was going out of them a constant and heavy expenditure of life, and that all their powers were steadfastly set in one unchanging direction. They have made this /eZ, not by the production of diaries or memoranda of service and engagement, but by an influence at once penetrating and inexplicable. It is very remarkable too that such men have been able to secure a tranquillity which has led heedless observers to infer that they were but little in earnest about anything, — they were so quiet, so methodical, so unhurried! On the other hand there have been fussy and effusive men who have acquired a great reputation for earnestness, when they should justly have had a name for making a great noise and a great dust. Such men have generally lost themselves in petty details; they have no clear plan, no broad and far-reaching lines of movetheir programme is made up of hop, skip, and jump, whimsically varied with jump, skip, and hop; you will have no difficulty in identifying the men when you have to suffer from the noise and dust in which their shallow lives are wasted, but you may have a momentary difficulty in clearing your way of their vexatious intrusion. The fact that there is a spurious as well as a genuine enthusiasm leads me to detain you with a few remarks, not so much upon earnestness itself as upon three methods of it with which you ought to be familiar: these three methods may be described as the Dental, the Porous, and the Cordial.

The Dental method of earnestness goes a long way with people who keep their eyes shut. The Rev. Mr. Osted was an eminent example of this method some twenty years ago. That active and most garrulous man never, to the best of my belief, spoke one word from Lis heart; and this is saying a good deal, for the words which he spoke were as the sand upon the seashore, innumerable. He could have preached four times not only on Sunday, but on every day of the week; and could have visited all sorts of people between the services, without so much, as drivers say, having one turned hair. Never a word came from beyond his teeth. With a scrupulous equity worthy of a better cause, Mr. Osted spoke in the same key whether at a wedding or a funeral, and with an impartiality truly severe accosted age and infancy with the same monotonous civility. Words! why, sir, they never failed; when the apostle said ^’ whether there be tongues they shall cease,’’’’ he did not know that Mr. Osted was among the blessings of the future, though he might have suspected this fact when he predicted that “knowledge shall vanish away.”*^ You have seen a hailstorm? Yes, but no hailstorm was ever a match for Mr. Osteds tongue; and yet never a word came from beyond his teeth! I have seen Mm in a sick room every day for a month, but never a word came from his heart, — all dental, dental, dental! Whilst he was addressing the patient his dry and eager eyes would be examining everything in the room, and the sweetest, tenderest words of all Gods promises would almost stiffen on his freezing lips; in fact, they ceased to be promises and became mere expressions, without unction or emphasis. Often have I turned from him with ill-disguised detestation; yet the attendant ladies, having listened to his insipid commonplaces, have blessed him for his earnestness, and said to me in his absence, ‘’ He is such a good man, he comes every day, wet or fine,“‘My enforced silence under such circumstances was excellent self- discipline; I knew that Mr. Osteds service cost him nothing either in heart or brain, — not a nerve throbbed for it, not a pulse beat the quicker for it; and yet the unsuspecting ladies cherished his name with the most affectionate thankfulness. I could have denounced the sham in fittiog terms, but for fear of injuring the venerated sufferer beside whose bed I had to sit and weep many a day. When Osted read the Scriptures there seemed not to be any message in them for all the sorrow of our home, nothing as if it had been written on purpose for us; and when he prayed there never came any great expectation into the heart of the listener: words, words, words, 0 for one tone of the heart, one sigh of sympathy! but that luxury was denied us in the person of our pastor. Sometimes I asked another minister resident in the town to call upon the sufferer, and the beaming of his benign countenance was to me like the coming of a long-looked-for morning. He was. with us as the servant of God; under his reading the holy book became our oiun in a most special sense, and when he prayed God seemed to be quite near. Yet this better man was never so popular as Mr. Osted for when was the deep, true, great heart any match for a garrulous and untiring tongue? I felt that Osted could have spoken quite as easily into an empty barrel, if he had been paid for it, as ever he spoke to his congregation; and I do not hesitate to say that he would have gone quite as comfortably to a funeral as to a wedding, provided that the effect upon his pew-rents would have been the same in both cases. He was a very earnest man was Mr. Osted, — very!” Most unremitting in his attendance upon the sick,“*^ ^’ never tired,^^” always had a word in season,’^ ^’ never off his legs,^^ — such are the

words which you may hear about him in the houses of those who attended his dental ministry. Mr. Osted was a devoted denominationalist; in fact, he was somewhat of a bigot; he was great on committees, so great that he could wear out the strongest of his rivals. He was keen too in committee law, so keen as to be quite the terror of young members. Twenty times in the course of one meeting would the watchful Osted dentally interpose, — “Mr. Chairman, I rise to order,^^ “Mr. Chairman, I do contend,’’^ “Mr. Chairman, I must be allowed to explain,^^” Mr. Chairman, I beg to move as an amendment/^ and by this fussy and meddlesome method of interrupting everybody he earned for himself the reputation of being a very active and earnest’ member of the committee! No man of ordinary shrewdness was ever deluded into the notion that Mr. Osted was a legislator; but for moving amendments, seconding resolutions, suggesting expedients, nominatiug deputations, and pestering secretaries.

1 6 Ad Glerum: Advices to a Young Preache).

he was generally acknowledged not to have an equal in the county which he honoured with his dental service.

N’ow, sir this is the dental method of earnestness; and I need hardly add that you ought to be on your guard against it. Suspect the men who practise this method, and avoid them! They will make a tool of you; they will conduct experiments with you; and if you go too near the fire they will let you drop in, and then turn upon their heel as if they had always thought you a fool. My heart aches when I think of the possibility of warm-hearted young ministers falling under the influence of such men; they are quite without nobility of feeling, they can say the brotherly word without the brotherly trust, their civility is as measured as if it were determined by Act of Parliament, and their patronage would be intolerable but for the condescension which is so overdone as to render itself both harmless and laughable. I have had much to do with such men. Having leaned upon them I know them as broken staves; having watched them in the storm I know with what ease they can set themselves to the wind; and having carefully examined their work I can assure you it is not pleasant to look below the surface. Once for all, I repeat, suspect and avoid the dental method of earnestness.

The Porous method is not illustrated so frequently now as it was a quarter of a century since, though a few very conspicuous examples occur to me at this moment, — examples of living and accountable persons whose enthusiasm is simply a question of porousness. My fancy turns at once to a very ponderous brother, whose voice is like a clap of thunder, and whose vast bodily amplification has caused some one to say descriptively that ‘’ he carries all before him,” For the sake of easy reference I shall call him Mr. Bodens. The manner in which that earnest gentleman exhausts himself in the pulpit is little short of alarming. No ploughman ever gasped as he gasps; no ironfounder ever sweltered at his furnace as Mr. Bodens swelters in the pulpit; his eloquence is a continual attempt at suicide and his climaxes constantly suggest the possibility of a coroner s inquest. You will understand this when I tell you that his introduction always brings out handkerchief number one; his first head never fails to cover his face with the most varied streaks,, which handkerchief number two vainly attempts to remove; the first subdivision under the second head brings on a style of breathing which can be accounted for only by internal agonies of the extremest poignancy; and the “one word more in conclusion,” which always comes in immediately before “finally,” drops in faint accents from a man whose earnestness has reduced him to a state of semi-liquefaction. His repute for earnestness is very high. He is spoken of by the gentler members of his congregation as “never sparing himself,” “extremely energetic,” ^’ deeply devoted,” and so forth. ‘^ Poor man,” they say “he does labour so when he preaches;” “dear man he never seems to consider himself, he quite wrestles with his hearers, he is so very earnest; “and all this they say mth sincere esteem for Mr. Bodens and his preaching. I have heard it again and again, and answered with a most ambiguous sigh. From this description you will infer that Mr. Bodens is a hard-working man, but I am bound to deny the generous inference. There is not a stroke of hard work in him. To begin with, you cannot call him a hard reader; for beyond a few volumes of” skeletons “He lias no library; you cannot call Mm a hard student for lie has often said that lie never” meditates ‘^ but when in bed; and bow far he is capable of meditating there you may judge from the fact that in his opinion ^^steaks and oysters are a supper for a king/^ and that he enjoys the said supper as often as his funds will allow. But though Mr. Bodens is neither a hard reader nor a hard student there is a sense in which he does a good deal of work, and this ought in bare justice to be distinctly pointed out. As one of his congregation once observed to me in a tone of much satisfaction, “Mr. Bodens you see, sir, is always on the move;” the good man evidently thought that to be “always on the move ‘’ was the perfection of industry, and that silent contemplation was” a sort of mental disease like, you know, and all that sort of thing,^’ a lucid theory which had a remarkably soothing effect upon his own active mind. I was struck with the theory so very forcibly that 1 made it the beginning of a conversation.

“I am told, Mr. Bodens,^’’ said I, that you are always on the move V I purposely heightened the last word so as to throw the report into an interrogative form.

“Why, you see, sir,^’ he repUed, rounding himself to his full compass, and speaking with instantaneous emotion,” my forte, I may say without boasting, is calling upon the flock.’’’

“You liJce it?’”’ I replied, in a lighb questioning tone.

“I look upon it, sir, as one may say, in the light of duty combined with pleasure. ■’’

“That ’s it, is it V said I, without committing myself to any particular opinion,

“It is, sir, it is; you see, my brother,’^ Mr. Bodens continued in the style of a lecturer on homileticSj ‘it helps the preachings it makes my discourses practical and useful.”

“Don’t see it,” said I.

“Don’t see it sir? Why the thing is patent,, sir quite patent; how can you help seeing it?”

‘^ Prove it,” said I, quite in a challenging manner.

“Prove it? Ah my dear sir no young minister would have said that at the time when I began my ministry, and that will be five and thirty years ago next midsummer; my old professor always told me to visit the flock, and I should be sure to succeed in my work.”

“Come now, Mr. Bodens,” said I, ^’^tell me plainly what good all this visiting does.”

‘^ Good? Why, sir, look how it promotes a happy union between the pastor and his flock!”

‘■’’ Then do you mean to say that your people like that sort of thing?” I inquired.

At this point Mr. Bodens took from his pocket handkerchief number one, and then replied, ^’ Sort of thing, sir? what sort of thing are you talking about?”

“Why, visiting,” said I; “do you seriously say that your people like it?”

“I say more than that, sir,” Mr. Bodens haughtily replied, drawing handkerchief number one across his pudgey and wrinkled brow; “I say, sir, that they not only like it, they positively demand it.” Mr. Bodens pronounced the word “demand,” as if it involved a subpoena, and then looked at me with a steady and piercing eye.

Not wishing to go too far with the old gentleman, and observing already a faint foreshadowing of the streaks

20 Ad Cleriim: Advices to a Young Freacher.

wliicli accompany the demonstration of his first head, I fell into a conciliatory and appreciative tone which quite pleased him.

‘^ I should infer, then,” said I, with winning blandness, ^’’that you have a hospitable people?”

This was the right word; you should have seen the glitter of his half-buried eye! He turned round, as if to assure himself that we were quite alone, and then laying his hand upon my shoulder he said impressively — ‘’ Brother, they are I ‘’

I nodded vehemently, as if I had received an ample explanation.

^’ Hospitable?” Mr. Bodens continued without changing his attitude, ^’ can you take a word in confidence? In confidence as between brother and brother, or as one may say between father and son?^’ He then retired a pace, as if to see how that idea afiected me generally.

“No doubt of it,’’ said I, “provided it is nothing very alarming, and provided the vow is not binding after your death.”

^’ Then,” said he, “look here: just by way of curiosity I kept a memorandum of one week’s hospitality; now read that if you wish to know the terms upon which I live with my dear people.”

‘^ Will you read it, sir, as I am not good at making out other people’s writing?”

Mr. Bodens read. There was unction in Mr. Bodens’ voice; there was light in Mr. Bodens’ eye; in one word, Mr. Bodens was himself. I quote the memorandum: —

“Monday: dined at H’s; everything in season was on the table; opened a new lot of white wine. Tuesday: tea and supper at B’s; a splendid game pie to supper that would not cost a penny less than three pounds; Mrs. B. had set aside a few prime Wliitstables for my special benefit, a kind creature. Wednesday: lunched with F., who insisted upon opening a small barrel of natives; F. is very unselfish and amusing, and would insist upon my having an extra dozen in honour of an event which had taken place in his house on the previous day. Thursday: paid eight visits, and supped with D. at the club; D. is a liboral friend, nothing cold would do for him, everything was steaming hot. Friday: took an early dinner in the Park j the table was quite a picture; a finer display of choice meats I never saw. Saturday, of coui’se,^^ Mr. Bodens added,” was spent at home.’’^

‘’ Well,’^ said I,” there ■’s no sign of famine in your note-book.^’

“Whats the consequence?’’’ said Mr. Bodens, as if about to establish a moral.

“Probably bursting,” I replied suggestively.

Mr. Bodens was shocked at this levity; he evidently regarded it as quite out of season. That earnest man never laughed. Life was too serious a business with him to admit of any pleasantry, however mild its form. Under the influence of my flippant answer, he turned himself quite round, so as to give me a complete view of his magnificent back, and personal inspection enables me to say authoritatively that in all respects it was worthy of the memorandum-book. I felt the force of the reproof, or rather I saw it; to have felt it would have been death upon the spot.

“Pardon me,’^ said I,” it was quite a slip of the tongue; tell me what the consequence really is.’’

Mr. Bodens looked at me with much doubtfulness, as if unable to forgive the liard-liearted suggestion all at once.

^’ Seriously/^ I continued,,” I wish to know the consequence/^

‘^ Consequence is sir according to the old proverb a house-going minister makes a cliurch- going peoyle; and I can prove that to be the case for there is not a seat in all our chapel to be let, not one, sir, even if the king himself wanted it V

“But, Mr. Bodens, if you will excuse me, may I ask when you find time to study? ‘’

^’ Study, sir? ■’’ he replied, ^’^ who wants so much study? Study your people, say I; go amongst them as a shepherd among the flock; study their ways; make yourself acquainted with their wants; and you can easily write out a skeleton or two on Saturday night.^’’

^’ Is it right then,^’ I inquired, ^’ to eat so many fat things, and to pay for them with a skeleton? ‘’

That was a fatal imprudence on my part. Mr. Bodens gave me a stern and devouring look, and went away as rapidly as so vast a personage could move. I watched his conspicuous figure until it was out of sight, and that, as you may suppose, was a considerable part of a lifetime. You will not wonder after this that Mr. Bodens liquefied a good deal in his preaching, nor will you readily believe that he perished as a martyr to the cause. Last of all, however, Mr. Bodens died also, died of the memorandum-book. To the very end he was spoken of as an earnest’ preacher, and even to this day there are old members of his congregation who reverently recall the occasions when Mr. Bodens was so exhausted with preaching as hardly to be able to get into the vestry in the customary manner of solid bodies. When lie died lie left a great blank.

By the Cordial method of earnestness is meant, of course, the method of the heart. We must be earnest as Christians before we can be earnest as ministers. How can our work be right if our heart be wrong? And how can our heart be made right but by constant watching at the cross? Though we are ministers of Jesus Christ yet we are poor sinners, our salvation is not in ourselves but in the Son of God; and if for a moment we imagine that our ministry involves an exemption from the lowliness and contrition which become guilty men, we fall from grace and our strength is withered. When we come from the cross heart-broken, and yet glad in the salvation which has been wrought for us, our words will be simple, our manners will be natural, and our tone will be none the less persuasive because it falters with the emotion of thankfulness for our redemption. Truly, our weakness is our strength; when we feel our own nothingness the grace of Christ is most magnified in our hearts; and when the shallow channel of our invented eloquence is quite dry, God gives us His word as a well of water whose springs never fail. Out of this earnestness will come a simplicity which cannot be misunderstood, a candour which is above suspicion, and an independence as superior to flattery as it is scornful of intimidation. Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life.’’’ To fail there, it is to fail altogether!” Take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine eyes have seen, and lest they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life.’’’ See how we are thus urged to personal consecration!

What is our standing before God? Is our love deep as our life or is it but a transient impulse? Is Jesus Christ merely a theme to be talked about or is He the strength of our heart and our portion for ever? Is our Christian experience a luxury with which we pamper our selfishness, or does it constrain us to abundant service such as no hireling would ever undertake? These are questions which call us into the secrecy and terribleness of Divine judgment.