St Paul's Announcement of His Purpose in Going to Rome

“I am debtor both to the Greeks, and to the barbarians, both to the wise, and to the unwise. So, as much as in me is, I AM ready (or earnest) TO preach the

GOSPEL TO YOU THAT ARE AT ROME ALSO. FOR I AM NOT ASHAMED OF THE GOSPEL OF CHRIST: FOR IT IS THE POWER OF GOD UNTO SALVATION TO

every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.” — Rom. i. 14-16.

L Preached at the Per:,-, del Pc?c:o. February 19. 1871.)

Rom. 1. 15, id

‘•’I am ready to preach the gospel to you that are at Rome also. For I am net ashamed cf the gospel of Chris:: for it is the power :: God unto salvation to every one thet believeth.31

HH’HIS is my first Sunday in ROME. A::: -!■ surely no words could more appropri- [y inaugurate our services here, than those I have just read as a text. They are the noble testimony of one,, whose work has its most sacred associations in this imperial city. I have followed the steps of the great Apostle in other places, consecrated by his name and labours, In Jerusalem, the scene of his youth and early manhood. In approaching Damascus, at the traditional spot of his conversion, and in M the street called Straight,” where his rayless eves and blinded soul received their natural and spiritual vision. On the heights of Mars’ Hill where he confronted the polished Athenians. Among the mounds and marshes of Ephesus, now a chaos of ruins — but where, in the zenith of its glory, and under the shadow of Diana’s Temple, he unfolded the Truth as it is in Jesus. Finally, along the pathway of the Great Sea, and on u the Island called Melita,” when he was pursuing his journey hither, to prosecute and terminate the world-wide commission, “Go thy way, for thou art a chosen vessel unto Me, to bear My name among the Gentiles and kings, and the children of Israel.” It is my privilege now to visit the place which listened to his latest testimony, when he was “such an one as Paul the aged;” on whose temples and towers was shed the last gleam of a glorious life. In subsequent Sabbaths, we shall hope, with God’s gracious help and blessing, to follow out these varied and interesting memories of St Paul — in his sojourn, labours, sufferings, and death in this old metropolis.

In the words before us, we have the resolution formed by him in the prospect of setting his foot within its gates. They bring before us, in a single verse, the theme which, throughout his loner life 0f sacrifice and consecration, is ever uppermost in his soul, — the glorious Gospel of Christ, aye, Christ Himself, “the Power of God,”’ From the moment he was struck down, in that hour of mighty surrender, when he cried, “Lord, what wouldst Thou have me to do?” till the last breathing of his lips, “I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand,” we may say he had but one central thought, around which all others constellated: Jesus was with him first, last, foremost, midmost, upmost, and without end. Wherever he went, that theme was the same: to the astute philosophers of the Areopagus; to the uncultured peasantry in the wilds of Upper Asia; to the Ephesian elders on the sea-beach; to the sailors in the midst of the Adriatic storm; to the mail-clad warriors of this ancient capital. A hundred times over, in the course of his Epistles, is that name mentioned, which is above every name — and the repetition of it seems to impart a new and salient joy and energy to his whole nature. We never hear of him but once in tears, and that once was, when weeping over the enemies of the cross of Him he loved more dearly than all the world beside. Let us, then, as a befitting introduction to subsequent scenes and incidents, listen to the old but never thread worn story, which he announces it to be his purpose to tell once more at Rome; — the theme of all themes — the power of all powers — the Gospel of the grace of God to dying men and a dying world! In one of his letters written from Rome, this is his watchword and manifesto, “God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ,” (Gal. vi. 14). Again, when he intimates his intention of coming to Rome, he says, “And I am sure that, when I come unto you, I shall come in the fulness of the blessing of the Gospel of Christ” (Rom. xv. 29). May we be able, in some lowly measure, to endorse his words.

In the immediately preceding verse, the Apostle announces his purpose, if it be the

IN GOING TO ROME. 0J

will of God, to preach “at ROME also;” then he adds “for” (and this is the connection of the text) — “for” (although Rome be the world’s metropolis) “I am not ashamed to preach even there my loved theme, the Gospel of Christ, tl for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth, to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.” Thus we have Romans, Jews, and Greeks, — all specially named and grouped together, — a powerful phalanx of resistance. But this moral hero knew his weapons. He had ranged against him the powers of man; but he was conscious of “a power’”’ mightier than all, and which out of weakness made him strong.

Let us dwell, for a little on each of the three clauses of our text in succession.

I. “/ am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ” Now it is at once evident from this assertion, that there was something in that Gospel and its doctrines unpalatable to the wide circle to whom the Apostle wrote and spoke. And we are aware how well-grounded were his fears. The propagators of that Gospel were scorned and vilified as revolutionary fanatics, subverters of the ancient faith, disturbers of the public peace, turning the world upside down. In the words of “the chief of his own nation,” who visited him subsequently in his Roman lodging, “As concerning this sect, we know that everywhere it is spoken against,” The men might possibly have been tolerated, but their theme was a branded tale. For what was the sum and substance of that theme? Nothing else but this- — that the world, the proud world, in the haughty zenith of her glory, should come and lay that glory at the foot of a cross of shame; and confess that, for salvation, its millions were indebted from first to last to a dying Redeemer! Their poets and philosophers and soothsayers had dimly foreshadowed the advent of some great Prince, who was to descend on the earth and inaugurate an era of peace and blessing. Could these dreams possibly have so poor a fulfilment as in the incarnation of the Christ of Nazareth, the son of a lowly woman of Galilee? What! the proud Roman! he who subdued kingdoms, stopped the mouths of lions — he who never

IX GOIXG TO ROME. ICXy

imagined any of his heroes could die, far less die an ignominious death — who dreamt of them, rather, as translated into palaces of glory or changed into constellations in the firmament: how hard for him to take in the truth, that One mightier than all his gods or demi-gods, the Saviour of sinners, was a crucified Man, who perished on a felon’s cross! And, what was. perhaps, more insulting than all. that Gospel (that new religion) was ushered, as in our text, before the world, by this its apostolic expounder and interpreter, as “a POWER.” “Power!” who dared whisper such a new rival word in a Roman ear? Was not their whole name and history and wide empire the embodiment and apotheosis of Power? What power antagonistic to his own could a Roman tolerate? Speak to him of power, he would point to the eagles on his standards,, or to the Temple of Victory crowning one of his seven hills, with its garnered spoils of vanquished nations. Speak to him of power, he would point to the subject-empires over whose broad territories these eagles could speed for days their unchallenged way without

TIO ST PA ul’s ANNO UN cement

requiring perch or resting-place. “Thy work, O Roman!” said the greatest of their poets, “is to rule kingdoms.”

Again — The Jew! Is it possible he can bid farewell to all his revered and time-honoured rites? Is the Temple and all its lofty pageants, the pomp of his solemn feasts, the pride of his ritual, all to pale before the reputed Son of a carpenter? Can he receive as King of the royal nation, a crucified Nazarene? and that, too, when his own law utters the words — “Czirsed is every one that hangeth on a tree?”

The Greek I Is he to part with all his divine philosophy, to accept the teaching and the doctrines of one who perished by a cruel death, among a nation he esteems as barbarian f Amid the beautiful dreams of his own mythology, that peopled every wood and grove and stream with a deity, must he say, with St Paul, as he stood amid the splendours of Corinthian art, “I determined not to know anything among you save Jesus Christ and Him crucified?” Nor was it old Roman, and Jew, and Greek, who entertained alone this opposition to the Gospel

—this criminal shame of its central cardinal theme. Alas! human nature, to this hour, remains unchanged, and the offence of the cross will never cease. ‘What!’ says the pride of intellect, and the pride of reason, and the pride of self-righteousness, ‘am I to stand indebted for salvation, to a crucified Man, to a dead God? Is a mangled body and an accursed cross, the oracle from which the Lord Almighty is to address His rational creatures? Am I, moreover, to get heaven, just as a beggar gets his alms — nothing of the purchase-price my own — all from the doing and dying of another?’ Yes! it is even so. “The foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.” “The preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but to them that are saved, it is the power of God!’ And though now, Roman pride may scorn it, and Jewish bigotry may frown on it, and Greek philosophy may discard it; yet the day is coming, when Roman, Jew, Greek, Barbarian, Scythian, bond and free, will own that thorn-crowned Max, as “King of kings and Lord of lords I”

II. We come now to the second clause. This Gospel of Christ is “the power of God (or, omitting the article, which is not in the original, “power of God” — God’s own instrumental means of saving men), — “Power of God unto salvation!’ Of the dominant power at present in the world, we have reason to be tl ashamed;” — the power of brute force — the monster-power of war — the power associated with Paganism and the savage ages. Let us confront the demon-power with the angel-power — the power which has been earth’s greatest curse, with the power which has proved earth’s greatest blessing — the power of guilty man to destruction, with the power of Almighty God “unto salvation.” Without that Gospel of Christ, the world had not one ray of light on the subject of salvation, either from the guilt or the dominion of sin. Oratory, poetry, philosophy, taste, intellect, reason, were all baffled and confounded; professing themselves on this great mystery to be wise, they became fools. The world had tried for ages and generations to solve the problem; but every oracle was dumb on the great question, “What must I do to be saved?” The Greek might discourse on the loveliness of nature; — he might speak of the theology of mountains and groves and forests and rivers. Yes, truly. We allow they are witnesses to the power of God: — we have no wish to depreciate their testimony. St Paul had none. He, surely, was feelingly alive to the glories of nature’s scenery, who, standing on that same occasion to which we have already adverted, on Mars Hill, with their Acropolis before him, could, to the Athenians, so sublimely discourse on “God who made the world and all things therein, who dwelleth not in temples” (such temples as these! — pointing up to their adjoining Parthenon), “made with hands;”* or to the Lystrians, as he spake of “the living God, who made heaven, and the earth, and the sea, and all things that are therein; who giveth rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and with gladness.” -J- But listen, ye Greeks! Pile, if you will, mountain on mountain; ransack all the

Acts xvii. 24. f Acts xiv. 17.

H glories of material nature; bring every flower that blooms, and every torrent that sweeps in wild music to the sea; summon old ocean from his deep caverns, and the myriad stars that gem the firmament! They may, and do, silently and eloquently, speak on the theme of God’s “eternal power and Godhead.” But there is one theme on which “they have no speech nor language, — their voice is not heard,” and that is, How is God to deal with my sinful soul? With regard to this question, you have nothing to draw with, and the well is deep.

Is there, then, no answer elsewhere? Yes; where the volume of nature fails, the volume of Inspiration interposes. The question is answered. The Gospel of Christ is “the power of God unto salvation;” or, as St Paul expresses it in a kindred passage, “Christ crucified is the power of God!” He is the Power of God to atone for sin. He is the Power of God to satisfy justice, and meet the requirements of the law. He is the Power of God to rob death of its sting, and the grave of its victory. We hear much of the bygone power of man. The Nile, the

Euphrates, the Tiber, are washing, to this hour, the colossal memorials of that power. His sovereignty, too, in these later days, over the elements, is a mighty thing; — his making the winged lightning his ambassador, annihilating space, converting the world into a vast whispering-gallery; — tidings from these awful battlefields, or secrets in which the fate of empires and centuries are suspended, transmitted by a magic touch from capital to capital; — the power of steam, too, like a fiery spirit, careering majestically over land and ocean. But what is his power when brought to bear on the soul, and the sinner, and eternity? A voice is heard saying of, and to, all human might: — “Thus far shalt thou go, and no further: here let thy proud waves be stayed,” The world, as we have seen, had given it long eras to work out, if it could, the problem of its own self-restoration. But after these centuries of failure; after God had given man his own time and means to exhaust every effort to save himself, He says, — ‘Now, listen to My own divine expedient: By lifting up my beloved Son on the cross, I intend to draw all men unto Me! ‘Verily here is a new power, — “a new thing” on the earth. The world is to be conquered; society is to be remoulded; time-honoured religions are to be overthrown; Pantheons are to be subverted; aye, better than all, souls are to be saved, by the Power of a silent transforming principle. “The battle of the warrior is with confused noise, and garments rolled in blood: but this shall be with burning and fuel of fire.-” “He shall not strive nor cry, nor cause His voice to be heard in the streets. A bruised reed shall He not break, and the smoking flax shall He not quench: He shall bring forth judgment unto truth. “As the silent energies of nature (such as electricity and gravitation) are the mightiest of all, — so is it with this spiritual one. And the marvellous thing is, that it is a silent Power, dealing with hostile, opposing, counteractive elements. It finds the soul in a state of disorganisation; the Power unto salvation has to confront powers unto destruction. It is Light in conflict with Darkness. But it is the Power of God; and over this wreck, this moral chaos, He has only to utter the mandate,” Let there be light,” and light shall be. Ah! there is no power that can bind the soul, or, rather, that can unbind its fetters, like this! You remember the maniac, of old, who dwelt among the tombs. No man could bind him. They had tried it: but he had burst their ligaments like tow, and roamed that dark graveyard. At last he spied on the white strand of Gennesaret, One of whom he had heard. It was Jesus! See him now, sitting “clothed, and in his right mind.” So with the soul still. There are many, who, in the mad fever of their passions, have roamed for years amid the place of the dead, “crying and cutting themselves with stones.” But the Divine Redeemer, in the glories of His Person, — in the completeness of His work, — has stood before them. Unbindable, untamable, by all human means, they have taken a child’s place at the foot of His cross; and there they now are, sitting, with the peace of Heaven mirrored in their hearts;” the joy of the Lord their strength.’5

III. Let us advert, finally, to the third clause. “To every one that believethr After unfolding this great salvation, — the most gracious and glorious expression of God’s own” power,” — we are naturally led to ask, who are the favoured recipients? what are their rare qualifications? Is it the godly, the virtuous, the rich, the learned? Nay. It is, “to every one that believethr “Every one,” The water of the wayside pool is not more free, than are the blessings of that Gospel. The poorest barbarian in the mountains of Pisidia, — the ragged outcast among the purlieus of Corinth, — the ignorant savage on the rocks of Malta, — -the Tiberias fisherman, or the blind beggar on the Palestine highway, — were not less welcome to the foot of the cross, than the learned Apollos, the Roman Praetor, or the high-born courtier of Nero’s household.

Nor is Christ crucified only free to all. He is also suited for all. Amid all the diversities of country, climate, language, manners, civilisation; in the polished age, the uncivilised age, the philosophic age, the war age, the utilitarian age, — the human heart is found the same: and the One Physician, the one medicine, “Christ crucified,” able to heal all diseases. To everyone! We may follow the sun in his fiery course as he circles the globe, and in vain shall we search for the spot on which he shines, where this Gospel may not be freely proclaimed. The quality of water is not affected by the nature of the vessel which contains it; the water is the same, whether it be taken in a golden goblet, or an earthen jar; — by the king holding it in his jewelled cup, or the beggar that has no cup but the palm of his hands. So is it with the water in the wells of Salvation. Around these, the rich and poor, naturally and spiritually, meet together; and whether it be with vessels of great, or vessels of small quantity, — vessels of cups or vessels of flagons, — the invitation is the same, “Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely/7 “Him that cometh unto Me” (irrespective of all sins, shortcomings, moral disabilities) “I will in no wise cast out.” Look at that scene in the early Church, Peter and John healing the impotent man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple. It was an acted parable of the Gospel-power of God unto salvation. That helpless cripple, at the all-powerful name of “Jesus of Nazareth,” cast aside his crutches, rose from his couch of abject helplessness, with strength in his powerless limbs, and praise on his long-sealed lips. And next day, when the two apostles were summoned before the high priest, with the rulers, and elders, and scribes, and interrogated thus, “By what power, or by what name, have ye done this?” Peter nobly replied (and it is a reply applicable to every diseased, helpless, sin-stricken sinner, who has risen from his couch of misery and entered the Temple of grace, walking, and leaping, and praising God), “If we be this day examined of the good deed done to the impotent man, by what means he is made whole; be it known unto you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom ye crucified, whom God raised from the dead, even by HIM doth this man stand here before you whole” (Acts iv, 9, 10).

Such, then, was the announcement of Paul’s purpose in coming to ROME. Such, rather, let us repeat, was the watchword and life-motto of this great soldier of the cross, from the hour he assayed his armour, till the hour, in this city of his closing years, he laid that armour down, and the good ficrht was finished. We shall find afterwards, how nobly he was able to redeem his pledge and uphold his testimony. With the dungeon-gloom around him, and anticipations more terrible still for flesh and blood before him, yet with the loved name and cause on his lips and in his heart, he could make the dying avowal, “For the which cause I also suffer these things; nevertheless, I am not ashamed.”

Brethren, let me ask, in conclusion, the great practical question, Have you made this Gospel of Christ the power of God to your salvation? Do you cleave with full purpose of heart to its glorious central truth —

“This all my hope — this all my plea — That Jesus lived and died for me?:’

and are you jealous of aught interfering with it? It is said of one of the great Venetian painters, that, when completing a picture of the marriage in Cana of Galilee, in which the adorable Redeemer was to form the central and prominent figure, he observed some golden cups and goblets introduced in the foreground, which served to divert the eye from the main Personage. He immediately took his brush and erased them from the canvas. The incident has been beautifully used by a well-known Christian writer to describe and illustrate the place which Christ and Him crucified should have in the believers creed and the believers heart. Let it stand out by itself in solitary power and grandeur. Let nothing be suffered to detract from it. Let all other accessories be subordinate. Let them serve only to bring into bolder and grander relief, Him, who is “the chiefest among ten thousand, and altogether lovely.” Everything else on which you peril your soul’s safety is a refuge of lies —

’ “On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand; All other ground is sinking sand.”

And, believe me, especially there is one place

—there is one time, above all others, when that glorious method of salvation will be found and owned to be the only upholding — the only saving power. Undervalue it as you may while you live, it will not be so in the last solemn moments. Who that has witnessed a death-bed scene, but must have observed how all other trusts and confidences, all other dogmas, and doctrines, and questions, pale into insignificance. There is no name but One, then. The tongue can find no room — the heart can find space for nothing else but this — u Christ crucified the Power of God.” It is not ministers, nor churches, nor rituals, nor creeds, nor rubrics then! It is “the blood,” sprinkled in that midnight of awe and mystery on the soul’s door-posts, which alone speaks peace, wThen the destroying angel — the king of Terrors — is passing by. “None but Christ! none but Christ!” was the utterance of the dying Lambert at the stake. They are the same words which have awoke the silent echoes of ten thousand death-chambers, and hung on millions of dying lips.

May the music of that name and the music of that theme gladden us through life! May they cheer our souls in their passage through i( the dark Valley of the shadow!”