How May Other People Know That I Am a Christian?

If a man tells me that he is a Christian, and I want additional and, as a rule, satisfactory evidence, I need only go to the people with whom he works, or those whom he employs, or to his wife and children, or even sometimes to his enemies, and the proof will be forthcoming. St. Paul wrote wise words to Titus when he said that he must live circumspectly before the people, so that they would be ashamed because they had no evil thing to say against him. How may others know that I am a Christian? A friend of mine, coming up from a Southern city, was crossing from Jersey City to New York when the ferry was the only means of transit. His son, who was traveling with him, suddenly left him, and walking across the deck of the ferry-boat, grasped the hand of a man and shook it vigorously. When he came back his father said, “Who is your friend?” “Oh,” he said, “I did not know who he was, but he was a Mason. I knew that because I saw the badge on him, and we Masons always try to shake hands when we meet each other.” Then he said to his father, “Wouldn’t it be a fine thing if every Christian had a badge so that you would know him? So that if you were on a boat and saw him with this badge on, you could take him by the hand and say, ‘You are a Christian, are you not?’” As a matter of fact, every Christian has a badge, and Jesus gave it to him.

When I one of the reporters of a daily paper that I expected to preach on this subject, he said it reminded him of a Sunday-school teacher, who was trying to give to his class a definition of a Christian. He said, “Now, boys, why do people say I am a; Christian?” and one little fellow put up his hand, and said, “Please, sir, because they don’t know you.” But the best reason why others should know that IJ am a Christian, is that they know me, and if theyfl cannot say that I am a Christian after they know me, 1 then I had better go back to the penitent form andl begin again, for there must be something radically! wrong with my Christian living.

I never have been so impressed with the Bible as I have been in these past days. The Bible has an answer for every difficulty, and is a secret source of strength to us in all our need. So when I propose this question, How may others know that I am a Christian? I turn to John, 13:35, and I read, “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples.” By what? If you will turn to the thirteenth of St. John and read the thirty-fourth verse you will know: “A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.” It is not when you have criticised one another, not when you are harsh in your judgment against another, not when you are unforgiving. but, “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, .if ve have love one for another.” So other people may certainly know whether or not we are Christians. Does your husband think you are a Christian? Stop and think a moment. What would he say? If I should stop your brother and ask him, “Is your sister a Christian?” what do you think he would say?

One day while turning over the pages of the Old Testament Scriptures, I found that there were airways distinguishing marks given to the children of Israel, and by means of these marks they could always be known in the multitude. They were distinthey. ate; second, by what they wore; third, by what they said. It would seem to me that those might still be distinguishing marks for a Christian.

The things he eats. I do not of necessity mean the things he eats to increase his physical strength, but the books he reads, the conversation to which he listens, the influence under which he puts his life. All of these things enter into the character, just as the food you eat influences the growth of your body and causes you to be strong.

Then, the things we wear. A garment is like one’s habits. I can tell very easily whether you are a Christian or not, if I know your habits. You tell me what you are in the habit of thinking about and I can tell you whether you are a Christian. You may say that you are an officer in the Church, but that would not amount to very much if your life were not right. You may say that you are a minister in the

Church, but that would not amount to very much if your life were not right, and you were not a consistent Christian. Tell me your habits, and I will tell you whether you are a Christian. Your habits are like the garments of Israel.

Then they were known by the way they spoke, for in the olden times you could distinguish the children of Israel by their manner of speech. If I could stand in your home where you could not see me, and hear you speak to your servants, I could tell whether you were a Christian. You might be the president of the missionary society, and your name might count for everything in Church and social circles, but I would know whether you were a Christian or not by the i way you spoke to those about you. I would know 1 whether you were a Christian by the way you spoke to your children, by your conversation with your husband. It is often by what we say that we reveal whether or not we are possessed of the spirit of Jesus.

All these things enter into the formation of char-, acter. Let us remember this, that as we stand upx before the world, the things that we do or say, or/. think, speak either for or against Jesus Christ.

In one of the New England cities one of the wealthiest society women was taken seriously ill. Her name; had been on the church books, and she was a Christian. In this sickness she came to the brink of the grave, and then, as by a miracle of God, she was raised up again. When she recovered, she naturally gravitated back into her old social position. One day there was a special function given in her honor, and as she came in and was being received by all her

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$ friends and congratulated because she had been restored to health, her hostess said to her, “Now, just as a pleasant diversion for the rest of the afternoon, it has been decided that we will have a little bridge whist.” This friend who had been ill had always been the leader in the company, but what do you think she said to her hostess? She said, “You really must excuse me. I am not criticising the people who do these things, for we must decide our line of action for ourselves. I know you won’t think me rude, but when one has had a glimpse into eternity, when one has realized the shortness of life and the certainty of death, and then comes back again into the world, they cannot do the same things they did before with pleasure. You must please excuse me.”

What do you think happened? Every society woman in that room and in that home came forward to take her by the hand and say, “It is a splendid decision.” Some of them greeted her with tears. Others who knew her better put a kiss upon her cheeks. That is the position for a Christian. I do not think it is necessary for one Christian to sit in judgment upon another, and say, “If you do not do the things that I do, you are not a Christian,” but I am positive that every Christian should stand before the world and say, “I am a Christian, and by the things I say, and do, I must show it to my friends.”

“If this picture of Israel in the Old Testament is significant, it is especially true that in the New Testament we find a striking description of ourselves. Turn I to I. Peter, 2:9: “But ye are a chosen generation, a I royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people; (that ye should show forth the praises of Him who hath called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.” It is a great thing to know that we have been called to show forth the praises of Him, and I am sure the time nas come when, in Christian living, people ought to see Christ in us, when they ought to see the beauty of holiness in us, when they ought to see all the charm of consistency in us. I know when the churches will be crowded, I know when people will flock into the Kingdom, I know when the ministers’ hearts will be cheered: it is the day when we begin to live Tesus Christ.

There must be a rqarked difference between us and the wOTld. Therefore, there must be a change in the living of many Christians. Do you remember the story of the man in the tombs, crying and cutting himself with stones? They would bind him, and he would break his bonds. They would come near to the tombs and hear him shrieking, and they would run away in terror. But one day Jesus met him, and Pie broke his bonds, and ordered the evil spirits to come out of him. Then we read: “And he departed, and

begun to publish in Decapolis how great things Jesus had done for him: and all men did marvel.” Is that not a change? There must be a change in your living.

A friend of mine was one day preaching a sermon to a great congregation, when a well-known woman turned to her husband, one of the most distinguished men in the community, and said, as the minister pleaded with them to lift their hands and accept Jesus Christ. “My dear, could you not lift your fhand now?” And he made no response. She whispered to him again, “Would it not be a good thing to lift your hand now?” Still no response. As they walked out of the church, she said to him, with a note of pathos in her voice, “I had hoped that this .would be the night of your decision.” But he never answered. When they came into their home and were seated together, he said, “My dear, you asked me to lift my hand, and I made no response. I do not mean to be rude to you, but you are a Christian, and I am not. I do not want to be unkind, but tel! me wherein our lives differ. You play cards, and I also play cards. You go to the dance, and I go to the dance. You visit the theatre, and I also visit the theatre. For the life of me I can see no difference in our living. Now, you will not misunderstand me, and God knows I would not be cruel to you, but where is the difference in our living?”

While assisting in a great series of meetings in Minneapolis, I was called back to my church. As I made my way to the train, an old Welsh preacher followed me to the station, and said, “I heard you speak about Christmas Evans to-day. Here is a book of his sermons. He was the greatest of Welsh preachers. If you have time, read the story of that man in the tombs.” I took the book. During the journey I was storm-stayed for twenty-four hours, and I read the little volume through until I came to the story of the man in the tombs, crying and cutting himself with stones, until Jesus spoke to him, and the devils left him. Christmas Evans described his coming home. He told how the children, looking through the windows of the house, see a man coming- up the road, and they say, “Mother, father’s coming,” and the mother springs to the window to look, then runs to the door an<f closes it, saying, “Children, keep still, your father is a maniac.” And they close every door and window, and the children, looking through the chinks of the window, say, “Mother, it is not father. Father used to come bounding up the way, this man is walking. Father used to come shrieking, this man is coming quietly.” And the mother said, “Keep still. It might be your father.” You can almost hear their hearts beating, when there is a hand on the latch, and it does not yield. Finally, there is a rap at the door, but they do not answer. Then they hear a voice they have not heard in years. It was the voice she had heard when he had asked her to be his bride. It was the voice he used when God gave them their first child. They heard him saying, “Mary, open the door. Let me come in. I have seen Jesus.” Christmas Evans says she springs to the door and throws it open, and when he comes in he brings heaven with him. This is not a fanciful story, it is a picture. There must be a change in our living if other people are to know that we are Christians.

Again, I suggest that they will know we are Christians by the fruit of our living. Matthew, 7:20-21: Jesus said: “Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them. Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the Kingdom of Heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in Heaven.” What are the fruits? Read Galatians, 5 :22-23: “But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering. gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance; against such there is no law.” Sit down and think; take that verse of Scripture and pore over it, and see if you have these things in your life: Meekness. A man once told me that that word “meekness” as used in the Bible was exactly the same word that was used in Xenophon’s Anabasis to describe the taming of horses. So that a meek man is a tamed man. A gentleman said to me once, “I cannot be a Christian because I have such a temper.” Why, that is the very reason why you should be a Christian, if your temper is in the hands of Him who holds it as a man holds the reins of his four-horse team, guiding the team, and taking the great chariot up the mountain-side. Are you a tamed man?

Gentleness. I know it is very easy for people to become provoked in their own homes. It sometimes happens because we are worn out physically, because the circumstances that face us are so trying. But if you are in the habit of becoming provoked, then listen while I tell you just as candidly as I can, if you continue that habit you will reveal to the people round about you that you are not a Christian. Gentleness! Why you can detect it in the very atmosphere of a room when you step into it.

Down in a Southern city one of the ministers came to me to say, “I want you to make a call this morning,” and I told him I really could not go, for I had been preaching almost day and night, and I was physically and mentally tired. I said, “You must not ask me to make calls upon people, because, in the first place, I do not think I could do myself justice, and in the second place, I do not think I could help the people.” Then he said, “Oh, but you will make this call, for it will help you.” As we drove out to the house, he said,”*‘The woman you are going to see has been in bed twenty-four years.” The moment I crossed the threshold of the room I found that it was like heaven. I walked across the room, and took the aged woman by the hand, framing in my mind some word of comfort. I started the sentence, she just looked up at me and said, “Oh, don’t pity me. Of all the women living in this city I am the most highly favored. It is true that God took my husband. It is true that two years ago he took my last boy. It is true that I am the only one of all the family left, and it is true that for twenty-four years I have not been out of this room. But lying here upon my bed I have learned what it is to have joy, and peace, and long-suffering, and gentleness, and goodness and faith.” And I could not see her for my tears. I walked out of the room, saying over and over, “She is certainly a Christian.” Are you?

People may know that we are Christians by the badge which we wear. It is love. This love of which I speak is not a sentiment. What is this love? It is that spirit that enables us to lift other people’s burdens, to put cheer into other people’s hearts. When one of my friends was hopeless and helpless through drink, when he was without a friend in the city where he used to write his check for many thousands of dollars, when he thought that the very best thing he could do would be to end his life and step out of all his misery and wretchedness; as he walked the streets of the city where he was an honored citizen in other days, a man, splendidly dressed, stepped up to him, and said, “Where are you going?” And my friend, who for years had preached the gospel, said with a sob, “To hell, sir.” And this man threw his arm around his shoulder, and said, “Well, you are not.” He said, “I will help you.” He was the private secretary to the president of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, and he was as good as his word. That day, in the city of Baltimore, my friend turned his face back to Jesus Christ. What if his friend had said, “Well, aren’t you a disgrace to humanity.” What if he had said, “Isn’t it a shame that you have trampled on your father’s name, and forgotten your mother’s love. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.” I think my friend would have been in perdition to-day.

Are you a Christian? Tell me. You know whether you are or not. Love is that spirit that pities the weak, and tries to make the weak strong. Love rejoices with the strong, and is glad that God has entered into such a life. Love is that spirit that helps the suffering. If any of you, who are Christians, want other people to know that you are Christians, start at once to some shut-in person and speak a kind word, exemplifying the spirit of Jesus. Love is unselfish. Love always lives for others. Are you a Christian?

In November of last year a nurse in one of the city hospitals in Philadelphia left her position to become a nurse in the leper hospital. She was a beautiful girl; she had graduated with highest honors at one of the women’s colleges, and had been for some time head nurse in the accident department of the hospital. But she had the passion of Jesus for lost people, and she made up her mind that she would help the lepers!” So she said, “I will go to the leper hospital and give my life to the nursing and comforting of these poor, helpless ones.” On the day that she left the people gathered around her to say good-bye, and they could scarcely see her for their tears; but she smiled back at them, and waved her hand and said, “Good-bye,” as she stood on the rear platform of the train. And now she is away in that leper hospital, helping the hopeless, holding in her arms poor little children, stooping down to put her hand on the head of a disconsolate woman, bending over to whisper a verse of Scripture in the ears of a broken-hearted man. Possibly you cannot go to the leper hospital, and perhaps God never meant that you should. But there is one near you whose heart is breaking. You could speak to that one. There is another whose reason is almost gone. You could speak to her. In other words, a Christian is a man or woman carrying the sunlight of heaven in the face, and in the spirit and influence like Jesus. Are you a Christian?

I was in the slums of New York one day. I thought I would just go down and see what people were doing there. I saw children playing, and men fighting. I heard women cursing, and I had to put my hands to my ears to shut out the awful jangling, confusion, and noise. Suddenly, about three blocks away, I heard a brass band playing, and stopped to listen. They were coming down the street and I waited. As they marched past me every child stopped its playing, every man stopped his wrangling, every woman stopped her cursing, and the whole air was cleared up by the music. I think, if I am a Christian, that whenever I go into a home, that home ought to be the better for my coming. If you are a Christian, every time a person stops to talk with you, he ought to be able to say, “Isn’t it just helpful to meet her? The very look of her eye makes me better. The very sound of her voice convinces me that I am not what I ought to be.” Are you a Christian? Do other people think you are a Christian?

Others may know that we are Christians when we have the Spirit of Jesus — the spirit of compassion. That word “compassion” means “to have a passion with.” It means to be sorry for, to put yourself in another’s place. The first time I ever really came to know S. H. Hadley, of the Water Street Mission, I was holding meetings in Jersey City, and I wrote over to him, saying that I would like to see the slums of New York, for I had never seen the dark side of a great city., I received word from him to come over, and at midnight Mr. Hadley and I went into the lower part of New York, which was then wretched, indeed. We walked through the slums until two o’clock in the morning. I can shut my eyes now and see the faces we saw that night, with all hope gone, faces of women with all beauty lost. I can hear the voices that had in them the shriek of the lost, and I can see Mr. Hadley, as he sat in a place of vile repute with all the inmates around him, telling the story of Jesus. As we came out of that awful place I walked down half a block with him, and started back to Jersey

City. He went on towards his lodging house, and I saw him stop beneath a gas-light, and I could see the great tears trickling down his face. I went back to him, and he took me by the hand and said, Oh! Oh! Oh!” and I said, “What is the matter?” “Oh, he said, “Think of it! — the suffering, the sinning, the lost.” Then he turned to me and said, “Brother Chapman, always preach the Gospel.” That is the spirit of compassion of which I am speaking.

If we have the spirit of Jesus in forgiveness, we will prove our faith in Him. “Forgiveness” you say. “Why I have exercised it for years. Here is a man that has injured me, and I have forgiven him fifty times.” Well, that is not enough. How many times should we forgive? If you are a Christian, I can tell you exactly how many times. Turn to Luke, 17:4-5: “And if he trespass against thee seven times in a day, and seven times in a day turn again to thee, saying, I repent; thou shalt forgive him.” Then, as if the apostles had thrown up their hands at that, they said, “Lord, increase our faith.” In Matthew, 18:21-22, I read, “Then came Peter to Him, and said, “Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Till seven times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, until seven times; but until seventy times seven.” Have you ever done that?

We can show to people whether we are Christians or not by the way we pray. That is the spirit of Jesus — morning, noon and night He prayed. One of the most distinguished preachers in the world told me that when his father was a boy he came to his mother one day, and said, “I want to go to a place that is just slightly questionable. I have never seen anything of that sort of life, and I should like to go just this once.” And she said, “No, you cannot go.” And the boy, in a wilful spirit, said, “Yes, I will go.” “Very well, then,” said his mother, “you go, and all the time you are gone I’ll pray for you.” This distinguished minister told me that his father went away, and came back at two o’clock in the morning. He saw a light in his mother’s room, and looking through a chink in the blind, he saw his mother on her knees with her face buried in her hands. He crept round to the door, and heard her saying, “Oh, God, watch over my precious boy this night, and don’t let him sin.” The boy stole into the room, and dropped down by his mother’s side in prayer; was that night converted and became a great preacher. Others may know whether we are Christians if we have the spirit of Jesus in prayer.

Then they may know that we are Christians if we have the influence of Jesus. A gentleman in my room one day called my attention to the first chapter of St. John, which shows the influence of Jesus. The thirty-sixth verse — they saw Jesus; the thirty-seventh — they followed’ Jesus; the thirty-ninth — they abode with Him; and the forty-first — they brought others to Jesus. That is the influence of Jesus of which I am speaking. If we are true Christians, we will preach the principles of Jesus. Do you remember that night described in John, 13:25-30, when Jesus was sitting at the table with His disciples, and He said, “One of you shall betray me,” and they said, “Lord, is it I?” And He said, “It is the one who dips in the dish with me.” And he turned to Judas, and said, “What thou doest, do quickly,” and Judas rose and went out. H«re follows, I think, one of the most beautiful things in all the ministry of Jesus. Verse 28: “Now no man at the table knew for what intent he spake this unto him. For some of them thought, because Judas had the bag, that Jesus had said unto him, Buy those things that we have need of against the feast; or, that he should give something to the poor.” That, I think, is beautiful — Jesus was shielding him to the very last.

Paganini, the great violinist, was once seized as a suspect and thrown into prison, where he was confined for some years. As a favor, they gave him a violin with only one string, and by incessant practice on this violin, he acquired an execution so masterful that he was able to play upon the one string more wonderfully than others could upon four. He could make this instrument sing like a nightingale, or cry like a child in distress. When Paganini died this famous violin was taken to Genoa, where it now lies in a glass case. One day the wood of the violin was discovered to be rotting, and it appeared as if the violin would not last for many years longer. The people were greatly agitated, and they called a meeting of scientists to discover the best means of preserving the precious instrument. The scientists decided that to preserve it for a few years longer it should be taken out once a year and played on for half an hour by one of the best masters. The wood would feel the thrill of the old master, and the decay would be arrested.

If you want to be possessed of the spirit of Jesus, and have all the power that Jesus meant you should have, you will have to serve Him. It will not always be easy, but it will pay. Up in the Alps, in a certain spot, there is a monument erected to a guide who had perished when attempting to make the ascent of the mountain. One of the finest things I have ever read is the simple inscription on the stone, which reads: “He died climbing.” It is a noble tribute to an heroic man. He was in the line of his duty. His face was forward and upward. Up, and up, and up we must go, forgetting the things that are behind, and reaching forth unto the things that are before — climbing. Thus others beholding us will know whether we are Christians or not.

We owe the best to Him. An artist once painted a picture. Other artists had colors richer and rarer, and painted more notable pictures. He painted his with one special color in prominence; there was a wonderful red glow on it, and the picture made him famous. Other artists came to study his work, and they said, “What in the world makes his picture great?” They asked the painter, but he only smiled and said, “I cannot tell you,” and he worked on with his head bent low. And one went to the Far East and brought costly pigments, and made rich colors, and with these painted, but after a time the picture faded. And they searched and searched, but could not discover the secret of the old artist’s painting. They said, “It is in the way he uses his brushes,” and they studied the way he used his brushes, but they could not imitate his work. The old artist painted on, and on, and his work got more beautiful, but the artist grew whiter and whiter. At last one day they found him dead before his picture, and they said, “Now we will discover his secret,” and they searched his studio, but could not find it. But when they dressed him for the grave they found it — over his heart was a wound which must have been there all his life. But Death, which seals all things, had closed the wound. The artist had painted with his heart’s blood. That was the secret. The very best you have you owe Him.

“Paying a visit to sorrow’s abode,

Helping a burdened one o’er a rough road;

This the sweet thought making duty delight.

Turning the shadows of gloom into light —

Just to please Jesus.

“Giving a smile or taking a hand,

Leading lost feet to the fair Better Land;

Doing and thinking and hearing and seeing,

Eating and drinking and waking and being —

Just to please Jesus.