Letter to a Young Clergyman

New York, Nov., 1836.

Rev. and dear Brother:

I can truly sympathize with you when you say, “I feel myself to be a very unprofitable minister.” Nor do I know that I can give you any “hints” that will be of use to you in your great and important work. There is a single point in relation to which I will venture to throw out some suggestions.

Will you indulge me a few moments, while I direct your attention to that part of ministerial labour which is to constitute the great business of of his life, — I mean the instructions of the pulpit.

I know not how you can more magnify the pastoral office, than by exalting, and performing acceptably and profitably, the appropriate services of the sacred desk. By far the most important part of your labours will be found in the duties which devolve upon you as a public teacher.

u Go, teach all nations’’’ — “A bishop mast be apt to teach” — “The same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also’1 — ■••’ As ye go preach” — “Preach the word” — “We preach Christ crucified” — “Faith cometh by hearing” — “It pleased God, through the foolishness of preaching, to save them that believe” What is the import of these and similar thoughts, if they do not inculcate the idea, that the first and great business of a minister of the gospel is to become a public teacher — an able minister of the Neio Testament.

The design of God in the gospel of his Son is to rescue innumerable millions from the consequences of the first apostacy, and fit them by the power of his grace for the joys of his right hand. But they are sitting in darkness, and in the valley of the shadow of death. The instrument — the only instrument of their moral renovation is truth — his own truth. Had the Holy Scriptures of themselves been sufficient to constitute this instrumentality, he would have given the world only the Holy Scriptures. But he has appointed a distinct order of men, whose special and responsible employment is to illustrate, defend, and enforce the truth which he has revealed; to call up the attention of a world that lieth in wickedness; and in humble dependance upon his Spirit, to turn them from idols to serve the living God, and to wait for his Son from heaven.

There is wonderful wisdom in this arrangement. It is one of the great peculiarities of Christianity, that its Founder has instituted such a class of men as the public teachers of his religion. Orders of men there have been, and still are in Pagan lands for the performance of religious ceremonies, and to “conduct the pomp of lustrations and sacrifices;” but I have yet to learn if there be any such order, either in ancient or modern times, except under the system of religion revealed in the Bible, set apart for the inculcation of moral and religious truth. On the other hand, the policy of false religions has been to excite the curiosity of men without gratifying it; to throw around their oracles the air of mystery; to hold the world in the bondage of ignorance; and to have the credit of knowing what none but those who had intercourse with the gods knew.

The divine institution of the Christian ministry gives great weight and importance, in my humble judgment, to the instructions of the sanctuary. A true religion is thus invested with a sort of self-perpetuating power. There is no other way in which the knowledge and worship of the true God can be maintained. No religion, which does not owe its continuance to the wicked passions of men, can stand long without an order of religious instructors. The pulpit distinguishes Christian lands from all other lands, whether Pagan, or Mahometan. The pulpit is the defence, the strength, the glory of the church. And hence the history of the pulpit furnishes the moral history of the world. There is no institution that exerts so powerful an influence on the wide circle of human interests as this. Under God, the temporal and eternal well being of mankind are suspended upon a spiritual, faithful, able ministry. As the means of preserving the minds of men from the seductive and pernicious influence of error and wickedness, and turning them to the paths of life and peace — as the depository of truth and directory in morals and duty — such a ministry is the light of the world.

I do not depreciate the Christian press, when I say it never was designed for the instruction of the great mass of mankind. Constituted and conditioned as they ever have been, and now are, the mass of men have neither information nor time to be intelligent readers. To the poor the gospel is preached. Not more certainly is truth the foundation of knowledge, holiness, and happiness, and the gospel the system of truth, than the livingteacher is the great means of making known the gospel. I fear none of us appreciate as we ought the immense importance of preaching. Even the most intelligent portion of the reading community derive their religious sentiments from the sacred desk. Few, very few of them are readers of religious books. Other streams there are; but a well furnished pulpit is the fountain of religious knowledge. I have no doubt that the public instructions of the sanctuary mould the moral intellect and character of men, more than any other3 and all other causes combined.

Can this be doubted, if we look at the real state of the case? Think of such men as Edwards, or Witherspoon, or Davies, or Chalmers, having access to some five hundred, or two thousand minds, two or three times in each week; — minds that are broad awake, and perhaps intensely interested! Such a preacher puts a volume of well digested instruction, upon subjects the most deeply interesting and important that can be conceived, not into the hands of a solitary individual, or of a family, but simultaneously into the hands of hundreds. He does this one hundred and fifty times a year. Who does not see that if his own mind be taught of God, and laboriously disciplined, and liberally furnished, and if he is faithful to his trust, an immense amount of truth must thus be poured upon the benighted intellect of men, even within the short compass of a very few years? Let such a ministry be widely and densely scattered throughout the land, delivering the truth, not in the enticing words of marts wisdom, but in demonstration of the Sjririt and of power; and how soon would it bloom like Eden and become as the garden of the Lord! Not to a village, a city, or an extended district, would such a ministry confine its influence; but like the sun, its going forth would be from the end of the heaven, and its circuit would be unto the ends of it; and nothing would be hid from the heat thereof. Is it not an amazing privilege to have access to such a mass of mind as is submitted to an instructive and faithful minister of the gospel with every returning day of the Son of Man — thus putting at his controul one seventh part of human life for the great purpose of moral and religious instruction. “The great praise of Socrates,” says Dr. Johnson, is that he drew the wits of Greece from “the vain pursuit of natural philosophy to moral “inquiries.” The great privilege of the gospel ministry is that it turns the minds of men from the vain pursuit of all their philosophical speculations to the law of God and to the cross of Christ. It is no wonder the great Apostle exclaimed, “Who is sufficient for these things /” Is there not a responsibility attached to the services of the pulpit that might well make an angel tremble? O who that duly reflects on the solemnity of such a calling, must not be oppressed, if not overwhelmed! Nor is there any consolation in the midst of this fearful solicitude — no, not even from the promised presence of his Saviour, — to the man who seeks not, labours not, prays not thus to impress and penetrate the minds of those committed to his charge.

In the whole course of your ministrations therefore, let your mind be directed toward that department of labour to which it must always be mainly applied. Aim early, aim constantly to furnish yourself to become a preacher. Every thing you do, or leave undone should have influence on your usefulness as a preacher. Instruction from the pulpit is to be your great business. It is a part of a ministers duty, which holds the first place, and which may never be yielded to any other. No other contributes so much to his usefulness. Other duties he has. He must visit the sick and the dying. He must bind up the broken hearted in the house of mourning. He

YOUNG CLERGYMAN. Ill

must lift his consolatory and warning voice in the land of silence and amid the memorials of the dead. He must be watchful too, how he neglects to cultivate those social affections whose cheerful and benignant influence the piety of the gospel elevates and purifies, and which wind their way into the kindest sympathies of those he serves. But after all, he must remember that his great business is to prepare for the public service of the house of God. In no other ought he to be, and for no other does he need to be so well furnished. Nothing may interfere with his duty of preparing for the Sabbath. Next to actual immorality and the want of personal religion, there is no such defect in a minister’s character as deficiency in his public instructions. I look upon the minister who neglects the wants of the whole body of his people from a false regard to the wants of single family, or a single individual, as criminally unfaithful to his high and holy trust. Judge ye whether it is the more profitable to discourse instructively, appropriately, tenderly, with a single family, or to discourse instructively, appropriately, tenderly with the assembled tribes of God’s Israel? I would not have you depreciate pastoral visitation. God forbid! But I would have you appreciate the paramount duties of the Sanctuary. A minister should never leave the place of study and prayer, except for the performance of duties which do not interfere with his preparations for the pulpit. I have known men who devoted five days in the week to pastoral visitation, and satisfied their consciences with a single day’s preparation for the Sabbath. And I have heard their congregations exclaim, My leanness! my leanness! wo unto me! And I have seen their once verdant and prolific field of labour becoming like the heath in the desert.

Paul counsels Timothy, to give attendance to reading. This young disciple was on his preparatory course. And so are you. And so am I. And so are those our fathers who make their profiting appear into all. In modern times, we are in the habit of making a distinction between the preacher and the Pastor. But it is a distinction originating with men. The word of God makes no such distinction. The duty of a Pastor is to feed his flock. And how shall he feed them? When the God of Israel promised distinguished blessings to his ancient people, what does he say he will give them / — Wealth? — honour? — power? — triumph over their enemies? / will give you, says he, pastors according to mine heart, which shall feed you with knowledge and understanding. In the acceptation which the scriptures attach to the term, a good Pastor cannot be a bad preacher, nor can a good preacher be a bad pastor; though in the modern acceptation, it might be said that a good pastor may be a bad preacher, while a good preacher may be a bad pastor.

The career of a faithful minister of the gospel, is a career of continued, unwearied, unrelaxed preparation. No man can teach what he has not learned. Thus far you have been not so much preparing to preach, as preparing to study. The stock of knowledge which a young man lays up in a Theological Seminary, and in a few of the early years of his ministry will be exhausted in a very little while. Nothing will save him from absolute barrenness, if he be not a progressive and perpetual learner. Native talent will go but a little way, and will last but a little while, where a minister’s object is not progressively to obtain religious instruction. No vigour, or vivacity of intellect, no coloquial powers, no social intercourse can supply the defect of an uninstructive, monotonous, jejune pulpit. If you would not that your high and holy office be debased and degraded by aiming at other objects than the spiritual and eternal interests of men, you will direct the concentration of your powers to the services of the sanctuary. Nothing will divert you from this design. Thought, time, reading, study, observation, watchfulness, prayer, all are necessary in order to make full proof of your ministry. Your discourses must be well and thoroughly digested by your own mind and heart, if you would have them profitable to them that hear you. And if you are successful in this exercise, you must delight in it. You must have a passion for study. As one of the first qualifications for the office of a minister of the gospel is a decided predilection for the office, so no man will be likely to be well furnished for the services of the pulpit, without a decided predilection for that kind of effort by which he becomes furnished. There are indeed a few men — very few — of too mercurial a cast to contend succesfully with the toil of preparing a well digested discourse, and who require the excitement of an audience, the incidents of the occasion, and the tones of their own voice, to give energy to their conceptions, and to their minds a propelling: power. And if such men ever become profitable preachers, it is only by taking unwearied pains to furnish their minds richly with all knowledge, and to leave no faculty without the fullest and completest cultivation.

As to the “best methods of successful preparation for the pulpit,” I feel no small degree of diffidence in submitting any suggestions. Your very inquiry on this subject indicates that your mind is on the right track. It is of no inconsiderable importance to the usefulness of a minister that the subjects of his public discourses be wisely selected and appropriate to the condition of his people. The youthful ministry are very apt to be determined in their selection of subjects by their own resources; whereas a rigid determination, so far as is possible, to furnish appropriate instruction, while it would necessarily augment their resources, would commend them to every man’s conscience in the sight of God. I need not tell you that a preacher needs a Common Place Book, as much as an antiquary, or a statesman; and that the more it is enriched, the more certainly will he give variety, and richness, as well as tenderness and power to his illustrations of God’s truth. I am confident that I have been the loser by inattention to this article until comparatively a late period in my ministry. You will of course also have your Text Book, where you will note down from time to time such subjects for sermons as strike you, and where you will make such references to valuable thoughts as may fall in your way in the course of your general reading and reflection. If I mistake not, you may find the following hint of some service. In your daily and careful study of the Scriptures, you will find now and then favoured hours, when light shines upon the sacred page; when your heart burns within you; when your mind is active, and almost every paragraph and clause suggest a topic and a method for a sermon. I have found it important to make the most of such seasons, even by turning aside from my projected labours and employing several hours together in sketching plans for future discourses. The fruit when ripe must not only be shaken from the tree, but stored away with care for future use, otherwise it will wither and become unsavoury. Do not trust to memory to retrace these thoughts, but commit them to writing, so that without labour you can call them up when you need them. Such skeletons will always come to good service; and when well elaborated, will rarely disappoint your first vivid impressions. I have known ministers who where perpetually complaining for want of subjects for their public discourses; but I cannot but think that you will rarely be at a” loss for subjects, if your are habitually and prayerfully familiar with the Bible; but rather will your Text Book be always rich, and far in advance of your necessities. We become exhausted without much difficulty; the Bible never.

If you write your sermons, which I strongly recommend, never allow yourself to prepare more than one written discourse a week. One sermon a week, well planned, well digested, carefully written, and faithfully applied, is labor enough for any man who allows himself any time for intellectual improvement. One such sermon a week will enable you to draw upon your Text Book for two or three others without much preparation. In your most laboured discourses, let the force of your mind and the ardour of your heart be laid out in the application of your subject. Ministers often fail in this, and it is a sad failure. In a word, make every discourse as good as you can make it. Sure I am, my dear brother, that if you are like the writer of this letter, you will find defects enough in your best performances to fill you with discouragement.

One thought more: Never spoil a good subject for want of time. Rather take an old sermon, or preach without writing, and give yourself whatever time your subject requires, be it less, or more. As a general rule never write a hasty sermon. Rather cast yourself upon God7 and go to the pulpit expecting strength according to your day. Under such exigency Bene precasse est bene studuisse.

Two things you will find indispensable to profitable preparations for the pulpit: — prayer and toil. You must be a man of prayer. Prayer will give you thought, tenderness, and a power of feeling which nothing else can give. Sermons are heartless, lifeless things that are not elaborate with prayer. The difficulties of your work, and your own weakness invite you to your closet. If you look to yourself only, all is darkness, discouragement and despair. We have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be all of God. There is no substitute for Prayer. And you must consent to labour. There is no severer toil than the labours of the sacred ministry. Other men may rest; may retire from business and enjoy the fruits of their acquisitions; but there is no rest, no retirement for the minister of the gospel. The very Day of Rest of others, is a day of labour and solicitude with him. The duties of one Sabbath are scarcely fulfilled, and his thoughts are upon his preparations for another. And when he looks forward through life, he sees no end to his toil but in the grave. There is rest not until the battle is fought and the victory won.

Forgive me this freedom. My love for you, my interest in your usefulness, and you condescension in laying this burden upon me have given me this boldness. The fields are white to the harvest, my young brother, and you have everything to encourage you in your toil. The Captain of your salvation is with you, and you may burnish and gird on your armour. With a bosom glowing with the love of Jesus, renewedly pledge yourself whether you live, to live unto the Lord; and whether you die, to die unto the Lord. As one of the stewards of the divine bounty, go and unlock the cabinet of his grace to your impoverished fellow-men. As a messenger of his mercy, go and open the fountains of life to a dying world. Go, herald of peace, and wreath the promises around the brow of the dejected, and mitigate the woes of the desponding. And when your benevolence is satiated, and you ask not to be instrumental in saving another soul from death, then may you desire to rest from your labours. With fraternal love,

Yours, G. S„