The Personal Piety of Ministers
TfiEKE is no topic on which the writer addresses his brethren in the ministry, either young or old, with more reluctance and shamefacedness, than that which is here indicated. Yet much as he is constrained to fill his own bosom with reproach, and humbling as lie foresees his reflections must be at every step, he may not forego what he hopes may be deemed some appropriate thoughts on a subject so vital to the power of the pulpit. The most discouraging, yet most impulsive thought, in attempting to perform this service, is, that in no part of the present volume does he rebuke the meanest of all God’s servants with the same severity with which he feels he must administer rebuke to his own soul.
It was a very bold and presumptuous thing on his part, when as a young man, and but just entering on the third year of his ministry, he ventured to instruct his fellow-men by some published “Essays on the Distinguishing Traits of Christian Cliarncter.” Almost forty years in the ministry have tauiiht him that youth and inexperience can write more ilippantly on such a theme than maturer years, deeper retrospection, and a more varied, if not more doiil)tfiil, experience.
It does not require much discernment to see, that if one would he an effective preacher he must he a pious man. He may indeed occupy the place of a minister, and do some good in the world, and be destitute of piety. God may restrain him from overt sins; his religious education and enlightened conscience, his habits of application, and his intellectual orthodoxy may accomplish something toward supplying the deficiencies of imparted grace. His love for moral disquisition may give him an interest in his appropriate work; his attainments as a scholar, and his power over the minds of men as a teacher, may render his work pleasant; while his pride of character, if he is a hypocrite, and his false hopes, if he is a self-deluded man, may give a buoyancy to his mind which shall induce him to fulfil his ministry to the last. Yet all the while he may live and die an ungodly man. His church may mourn over him when he sleeps in the dust; his fellow-laborers in the work of God may stand aroimd his grave, and say, “Alas, my brother!” and many an honest panegyric may be uttered in commemoration of his fidelity, while he himself is “lifting up his eyes in hell, heing- in torment!” He has appeared in the presence of his Judge, and uttered that last plea of a forlorn hope, “Have I not prophesied in thy name V hut he has received the final answer, “I never knew you; depart from me, thou worker of iniquity!”
If we should say we weep while we thus write, perhaps there are those who would not sympathize with us. Yet who would not weep? Oh, is there one of all the race of Adam more to be pitied than such a minister? With its “poison drop of scorn” he must drain the cup of agony, and taste all the bitterness of death. He has saved others; himself he could not save! Through that very instrumentality by which his mind has become blinded, and his heart hardened, and his eternal doom aggravated, others have been brought into the kingdom, while their own once beloved minister is justly cast out into outer darkness, where there is weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth! He who wept over Jerusalem, I am sure, were he on earth, would weep over such a man. Could angels weep, they would flood the pulpit of such a man with tears. None, none but the sturdiest devil, could be indiiferent to such a doom. Yet have there been, and are, such ministers. Oh that we might be more faithful to our own souls! that we might be more faithful to one another, love one another more, and pray for one another, lest we also come to that place of torment! It is a sacred office which the ambassador of the cross holds; but there is nothing in it A^ Inch will save him from hell.
The evidences of piety in ministers are the same as in other men; they know w hat they are, and heed only the same self-inspection and scrutiny which they urge upon those who hear them. God does not always give them that consciousness of a filial spirit, and that full assurance of hope which are frequently enjoyed by private Christians. They have ordinarily less embarrassment in their views of his truth than private Christians, but more spiritual dai’kness. Now and then their consciousness of love to the Saviour is absolute, their path is all radiance and joy, and their step firm and strong toward the house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. In the strength of such a faith they go many days, and even after the noonday brightness is past, and the sun of hope gone down, the twilight lingers long, and as in the frigid zone, sometimes mingles itself with the blushing dawn. Yet is it no uncommon thing for them to pursue their toil under great doubts of the genuineness of their own religion; and if you were to ask them, at the close of some of the most impressive discourses they ever preach, if they had made their own calling and election sure, they might only tell you they have hoped it is well w ith them; or they might be silent; or they might he pensive, and turn away to seek some secret place of prayer. Yet they toil on, usefully, and often cheerfully, in seed-time and in harvest, through storms and sunshine, on the Sabbath and during the week, under the busy noon and silent midnight, satisfied of the truths of God’s holy word, with a firm and unshaken belief that there is a way in which he can safely and honorably show mercy, and, at the same time, so deeply sensible of their own ill-desert, and the excellence of his justice, that they leave the event in his hands, resolving only to labor on and finish the work which he has given them to do. Paul’s state of mind was different; his religion was brighter; his faith in the great propitiation was stronger, and his hopes more cloudless. Yet do ministers often need such a discipline as this, to constrain them to walk humbly before God and the world.
True piety is its own evidence wherever it exists in the soul. There is something in it which is so totally different from all sinful principles and affections, that it is the proper object of consciousness. If a man loves Jesus Christ more than father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lioiiscs, or luiids, or ovni Ins Own life; the chaiiije ill his anbctioiis, from w hat he was by nature, is such as to be perceived. The reason why this ])erceptioR is not always distinct and strong, is, that these gracious affections fire so embarrassed by the remains of moral corruption. When we feel the bondage of sin, and so frequently offend the Saviour, as we do; we cannot help fearing that we have never given him the first place in our hearts. We may have the fullest conviction of the truth, that indwelling sin does not destroy the evidence of imparted grace; yet where it is strong, in defiance of this conviction, the existence of gracious affections is discovered with difficulty, and the evidence of a gracious state is proportionably obscure. It is a truth of God’s word, that one act of true faith in Christ, constitutes a Christian. But what is true in theory, we are not always able to perceive to be true in our own experience. The voice of the “inward witness” may be confused, and overpowered, and even silenced by the clamors of other inward and outard witnesses, which conflict with this almost forgotten consciousness, so that the comforts of it are “few and far between,” and the light of hope is almost extinguished by the oppressive darkness. I repeat the thought, the truth is a precious one, that one act of supreme love to Jesus, and one act of saving faith in him, constitutes the Christian; but it is a pregnant and prolific truth, and no abortion. Save the thief on the cross, there is no recorded fact in the Scriptures, which warrants the conviction, that it is ever found alone. It is a tree in bearing; and on its branches hang every Christian grace and moral virtue. Repentance is pendant with the weight of sin, and bright with the dew-drops of godly sorrow. Humility and meekness are there, those sweet fruits of the Spirit. There is the charity which seeketh iKit her own, and is the bond of perfectness, blushing like the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valleys, sending forth its fragrance upon this desert world. It is a tree planted by the rivers, whose fruit does not wither, and whose leaf does not fade. It is a growing grace, and though not the uniform, the infallible pledge of persevering and increasing holiness. The kingdom of God is “As if a man should cast seed into the ground, and should sleep, and rise night and day, and the seed should spring up and grow, he knoweth not how. For the earth bringeth forth fruit of herself, first the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear.” It is not one grace therefore, that we must seek after, as evidence of piety, but every grace.
“Be ye holy in all manner of conversation: because it is written, — Be ye holy, for I am holy.” We have much to do with holiness in the abstract: would that we possessed more of it in our own hearts! Ministers have peculiar opportunities and means of a growing conformity to God, because they are familiar with his truth; because their views of it are often so strong and clear; and because their vocation is such, that the motives to this conformity, in all their variety and force, are so often present to their minds. There is nothinc: which increases the obligations of men to be holy, and which lays these bonds upon them in all their strength and tenderness, but is experienced in the work of a Christian minister. They greatly delight in those clear, connected, and comprehensive views of God’s truth, which they so often enjoy; but should they not more often be humbled under the reflection, that, “to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin?” Though inhabitants of this low earth, they dwell in regions of light; they inhabit its mountain summits, where the sun shines bright and clear when clouds and darkness rest upon the valleys below. God expects that his ministers should be holy men. “Be ye clean that bear the vessels of the Lord!” Holiness to the Lord was inscribed in deep and legible lines on Aaron’s forehead. Ministers expect holiness of themselves; the Church of God expects it of them; the world that lieth in wickedness is disappointed unless it discovers in them a piety that is both genuine and eminent.*
For reasons just suggested, genuine piety in ministers will be, for the most part, above the ordinary measure of piety in other men. They dwell nearer the sources and springs of it; and if they drink not of them, can they say in truth, “My soul thirsteth for God?” A man who spends his life in the contemplation and study of things that are unseen and eternal, must have one of two very opposite characters. If his contemplations be devout, he must attain
* As an exemplification of this last remark, I transcribe the followign letter of George III. to the Archbishop of Canterbury:
“Mt good Lord Prelate,
“I could not delay giving you the notification of the grief and concern with which my heart was affected, at receiving authentic information that revels have made their way into your palace. At the same time I must signify to you my sentiments on this subject, which hold these levities and vain dissipations as utterly inexpedient, if not unlawful, to pass in a residence for many centuries devoted to divine studies, religious retirement, and the extensive exercise of charity and benevolence; I add, in a place where so many of your predecessors have led their lives in such sanctity as has thrown lustre on the pure religion they professed and adorned.
From the dissatisfaction with which you must perceive I hold these improprieties, not to speak in harsher terms, and on still more pious principles, I trust you will reform them immediately; so that I may not have occasion to show any further mark of my displeasure, or to interpose in a different manner.
“May God take your Grace into his Almighty protection!
“I remain, my Lord Prelate,
“Your gracious friend,
“G. R.”
to G^rratcr tliaii ordinary spirituality of mind; if iindevout, lie must be a most wicked man. He will he a man to be admired and imitated, or one to be abjiorred and shunned.
In determining the true genius and nature of piety, the writer has but one remark to offer to his brethren, who, on such a subject, need no instructions from his pen. The longer he lives, the more is he persuaded, that the sum and substance of true religion consists in obedience to the commandments of God. “This is the love of God, that we keep his commandments, and his commandments are not grievous.” Oh it is a great matter, in heart and in life, to abstain from those things which God has forbidden, and to do those w hich he has required. It alters not the importance of this remark, that such a righteousness is not a sinner’s justification; is all his religion. Impulses of fancy, animal emotions, vague and dreamy sentimentalism may inweave themselves with the intellectual temperaments and habits of good men, and give their piety its lights and shadows; but they form no part of their piety. That fervor which glows only to obey, and those impulses which impel to do and suffer the will of God, are alone worthy of confidence. Men are dead in trespasses and sins, because they never obey God; devils are devils, because they live in disobedience. And Christian men
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THE PERSONAL PIETY OF MINISTERS. 285
and Christian ministers are Christian just in the measure in which they are obedient. Faith is as obedient as it is confiding; love is as dutiful, as it is affectionate; humility is as submissive, as it is lowly; penitence is as much afraid of sinning, as it mourns for sin; joy is as quick to do the will of God, hearkening to the voice of his word, as it is enraptured and transporting; and zeal is as warm and steadfast in giving battle to all that is wrong, as it is when it burns with its boldest and most active spirituality. It is a dry doctrine, a dead orthodoxy, and no more resembles true piety than a marble statue does a living man, that does not express itself in obedience. There is amazing force in that remonstrance of Samuel to Saul, “To obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams.” Afllictive fastings and fervent prayers, devout contemplation, eloquent sermons, fitting religious conversation, and commended sanctity are sounding brass and tinkling cymbal, compared with cheerful obedience to the will of God. Nor, in saying these things, do we forget, that the “Lord looketh on the heart,” and requires a spiritual religion. The religion that is all internal, and the religion that is all external, are upon the same footing; both are bad: the former all emotion and alternate rapture and grief, and empty imagination; — the latter, the form of godliness without the power. What is piety, but that state of mind and moral feeling which regards God, as God; which loves him as God; which obeys him as God, and honors him as our Lawgiver and our Redeemer? What is piety, but the love of the creature so responding to the love of the Creator, that in defiance of every opposing claim, whether of corruption within or the world without, and in opposition to every other master, it makes the Redeeming Saviour its Lord, and perfects holiness in his love and fear? What is piety but that great astounding principle, w hich, while it is the main-spring of action in the heart, has the vigor and efficacy to make itself felt in every artery, and vein, and muscle, and delicate nerve of the moral man? Strong spiritual exercises, under the powerful impression of Scriptural truth, are characteristic of a healthful state of moral feeling, only when they are sufficiently strong to make us love and perform the will of our Father which is in heaA’en.
This is the piety which the pulpit solicits, in order to give it power. It is goodness. It is loveliness. Yet is it that energy of purpose which arises from an imperious conviction of duty: that humility which makes the minister “as one that serveth;” — that self-denial and public spirit which distinguishes lm from those who are “lovers of their own selves;” — that love of God which consists in keeping his commandments; — that love of man which pities the apostate, and goes after the lost sheep; — that faith which takes strong hold of God’s promises; — and that conscious dependence which relies upon his all-sufficient grace.
There is no part of a minister’s work that is not immediately affected by his piety. The object at which he aims, his own personal qualifications, his firmness and stability in the faith, his perseverance in toil, his comfort in trials, and his w hole spirit, and even manner in the pulpit, are influenced by his fear of God, and his love of Jesus Christ. Light and love are distinct things. His embassy is an embassy of love. Before Peter was sent forth, after his lamentable fill, his affection and sincerity were put to the test before many witnesses, — “Lovest thou me 1 — lovest thou me more than these 1” Happy minister, w-ho like him, can say, “Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee!” We have but to read the life of Whitfield, and Payson, and McCheyne, in order to be convinced, that the secret of their succe.ss was their piety. The Earl of Bath says of Whitfield, “Mocked and reviled, as Mr. Whitfield is, still I contend the day will come when England will be just, and own his greatness as a Reformer, and his goodjiess as a minister of the Most High God.” Whitfield died 1770, and in the town where the writer of these j)aii:es was born. The churches in Newburyport, to the present day, preserve the remembrance of his preaching, not more than the remembrance of his piety. He sometimes preached in the evening, and in the open air, to great multitudes. On one of these occasions he says, “All was hushed and exceedingly solemn. The stars shone bright; and then, if ever, by an eye of faith I saw him who called them all by their names. My soul was filled with a holy ambition, and I longed to be one of those who shall shine as the stars forever and ever.” Just think of a man who has even the common gift of utterance, holding forth the word of life in such a state of mind as this! At another time he says, “I lead a pilgrim life; you will pray that I may have a pilgrim heart. Ere long I hope my Heavenly Father w ill take me home. I am ambitious; I want to sit upon a throne. Jesus hath purchased and provided a throne in heaven for me.” That beloved man of God, too, Henry Martyn, was a lovely exemplification of personal piety. “Let me praise God,” he would say, “O how great is his excellency! I find my heart pained for want of words to praise him according to his excellent greatness. I look forward to complete conformity to him as the great end of my existence, and my assurance was full.” A“-ain he says: “Nothinoseemed desirable but to glorify him: all creatures were as nothing.” And again, “O my God, it is enough. Hasten, O hasten the day when I shall leave the world, and come to thee; when I shall no more be vexed, and astonished, and pained at the universal wickedness of this lost earth. But here I would abide thy time, and spend, and be spent for the salvation of any poor soul, and lie down at the feet of sinners, and beseech them not to plunge into an eternity of torment.” There is something in such a state of mind as this, which gives to the pulpit that which nothing else can give. To be eifective, its ministers must live near to God, be lilled with his fulness, and reflect his glory. Men must take knowledge of them that they have been with Jesus, and that it is not they who live, but Christ who lives in them. It was the remark of one who was familiar with Archbishop Leighton, “If none shall go to heaven but so holy a man as this, what will bacome of me!” It is easy to see that the religion of such a preacher is the most effective preaching.
“When one that holds communion with the skies, Has filled his xirn where these pure waters rise, And once commingles with us meaner things, ‘Tis e’en as if an angel shook his wings; Immortal fragrance fills the circuit wide, And tells ua whence his treasures are supplied,”
It is this which makes an able and powerful preacher. Such a man will always be listened to, and prove himself a commanding and authoritative messenger of the Master who sent him. The spirit of his office rests upon him, and he will make impressions upon the conscience and heart, even though he may not excite admiration and applause. Even though he be not great, he will be greatly useful. His ardent piety will give a charm to his preaching even beyond that which is imparted to a less pious but more consummate orator.
While the personal character of the American ministry will not suffer in the comparison with that of any other portion of Christendom, it is quite obvious that the present is not the age of pre-eminent piety. The piety of our fathers puts us to shame. The church participates largely, not only in the prosperity, but the spirit of the world; and her ministers, because they have not more faithfully rebuked this sin, have themselves become infected with it. It is not with us now as it was “in the kindness of our youth, in the love of our espousals, and in a land that was not sown.” Our hearts are not softened in the fountain of God’s love. We do not live as holy men of God were wont to live, “as pilgrims and sojourners on the earth,” and declare plainly that we seek a city that hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God. God himself is too much a wilderness to us, a land of darkness, and the world too much our home. Would that we mourned over this state of mind with bitter tears! We grope in darkness, sometimes in thick darkness; and we lose our relish for our work, because we savor so much of the things that be of men. The Gospel we preach has not its counterpart in ourselves. We teach others what we ourselves have not practically learned. Our outward man perishes, but our inward man is not renewed day by day; our renewed nature does not become newer and fresher as we go onward. Oh, it is dreadful to live thus, to preach thus, with the dead weight of our corruption dragging us down to the earth! It is unworthy of the Master we serve, and of the cause v»^e advocate; it is unworthy of ourselves. This inconsistent piety is the plague-spot of the pulpit. It is the polluting, the infectious thing. It makes the preacher ashamed to look his people in the face; his conscience smites him; his heart trembles; and he may well feel that he can never more open his mouth, because of his shame. His energy is weak and pusillanimous; his holy daring is faint-hearted; his affectionate tenderness is fled and gone, because the words he utters do not find a distinct and full echo from his own heart.
It ought not, it must not be thus with the ministers of Christ. God will trv us, and make US liolicr men, or he may abandon us. If he has indeed clioscn us and ordained us, it is that we should go forth and bear fruit, and that our fruit should remain. If we are indeed his, he will assign more to suffer, as well as more to do; until we can say with Paul, “I count not my life dear unto myself, so that I might fmish my course with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the grace of God.” The preacher and the man must be one. His heart must be a transcript of his sermons, and then will he be a chosen vessel to carry His name who was crucified to lost men. It will be no inconsiderable evidence of the truth and power of Christianity, when such are its preachers, and such the power exerted by its pulpits.