Men of Violence

‘* The Kingdom of Heaven suflfereth violence, and men of violence take it by force.” — Matt. xi. 12.

‘’ And men of violence take it by force,” That is a most vehement and impetuous figure. We must realise the intensity and the daring of it if we would appreciate the Master’s teaching. “Men of violence take it by force.’’ It is almost suggestive of a determined burglary, the swift and terrific seizure of imprisoned treasure. It is significant of an obstinate and venturesome siege, the carrying of bristling forts by storm. ‘’ Men of violence take it by force!” The Japanese did not saunter into Port Arthur by easy and luxurious paths; they entered the stronghold at the cost of passionate and exhausting persistence, along a stiff and bloody way. “The Kingdom of Heaven suffereth violence, and men of violence take it by force.”

Is this our familiar conception of the pilgrimband? Do we commonly regard them as a storming party, winning height after height of the promised inheritance? Is this the popular figure of Christian disciples — “men of violence” taking positions by storm? There are other figures of speech which I think fill the popular mind. ‘’ Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” But how far removed from the spirit of violence, and how little likely to capture a height by storm! “Poor in spirit “—” men of violence ‘’ — we fail at the reconciliation of the figures! ‘’ Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.’ But is meekness synonymous with violence? Is meekness a spirit of rush and vehemence and holy daring? I think that when we commonly think of the pilgrim hosts, treading the way to the celestial city, it is with quite other forms and colours that our imagination works. Our “meek man has nothing about him of the burglar. Our man of the” poor spirit is not taking a battlement by storm. The fact of the matter is, our conception of the passive virtues needs to be vitalised, energised, and we need to remember that even the passive virtues of the Christian life have a core of tremendous purpose, and in the light and heat of that burning, passionate purpose they must be interpreted. We associate meekness with reserve, timidity, shrinking; rarely do we link it with the strong and fearless advances of a Gapon, the terrible, fiery invective of a Savonarola, or the dashing magnetic leadership of a Garibaldi. Meekness without passion is worthless. Poverty of spirit, divorced from strength and daring, will never plant a standard on the heights of the new Jerusalem. In the true man of the Kingdom, meekness comprehends the spirit of violence, and the poor in spirit are tremendous and invincible. John Bunyan was a meek man, a man of great poverty of spirit, a man of profound and penitential humility, watering his couch with his tears; but let some law of the land, or some magistrate in whom the law was incarnate, stride across the heavenward way, and impede the pilgrims advance, and the meekness assumed the guise of resistance, and the tearful penitent prepared to take the position by storm. Oliver Cromwell was a meek man, the child of many timidities and many fears, with his head often bowed in self-abasement, and hiding low at the place of mercy and redeeming love; but let king or Parliament lay hands upon the crown rights of the Lord, and meekness reveals its hidden fires, and the Kingdom of Heaven must be taken by storm. That is ever the characteristic of the true child of the Kingdom. The children of the Kingdom are distinguished by force of character, by available passion, by the power of unflinching persistence, by the determination to recapture the strongholds of sin, and to plant upon their heights the banner of the Lord. The Kingdom of Heaven suffereth violence, and men of violence take it by force.’ Our Lord came to make strong men.

Now, force of character is not always a pure and elevating energy. There are many forceful characters found in the way of sin who find their bourn in the gaol and on the scaffold. I always conceive Judas Iscariot to have been a man of commanding force of character who in any society would most naturally have moved to the front. His vigour, his determination, his singleness of purpose, his passion — all alike distinguished him from the common throng. No one could come near the man without recognising the full-charged battery of his personality. He had force enough, but it was perverse. No one will question that Lady Macbeth was a woman of most wealthy force of character. She is the most commanding figure in the entire tragedy. She moves to her purpose with enormous energy, with passionate vehemence, with intense and concentrated decision. Is this man in the way? Murder him! And that one? Do the like with him! She moves to her ends like a rolling stream of lava, and ruin and desolation fill her ways. These are types of forceful character, men and women of violence, destructive violence, endowed with personal energies like the hidden forces of the planet.

Now, when the Lord Jesus Christ, the Sovereign of the Kingdom, comes to men and women like these, and His offer of friendship and redemption is accepted, what happens? He does not destroy their force. He transforms it. They are not deprived of their violence, it is only sublimed. If in the midst of that great tragedy to which I have referred, the tragic note had ceased, and by some marvellous ministry Lady Macbeth had been brought under the mighty powers of redeeming grace, what would have been the character of the change? Would that strong, full-flavoured, full-blooded woman have become tame and insipid just cooing away like mild doves in the cote? Oh, no! She would have remained violent still, passionate still, resolute still, forceful still, but with all the energy transformed, the fires purged and purified, and instead of remaining a callous murderess, carving her selfish way to place and power, she would have become a Joan of Arc, leading others to privilege and freedom. No, her guns would not have been spiked or destroyed; they would have been transferred to the other side! The energy used in the Kingdom of Darkness would be now enlisted in the .Kingdom of Light. Let me give you a sample of this gracious transformation. Here is violence, if you will have it! “Saul, yet breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord.” There you have force enough, violence enough! What will you do with this man? Will you just put out his fires and make him like a damped-down furnace? Or will you let him retain his passions, only purified and glorified? That is what happened. N’ot one jot of force did this man lose in his transference to the Kingdom. He brought all his guns with him, only they were now directed against the strongholds of the devil, and in the love and interest of the Kingdom of God. Ay, when the Lord comes to the violent. He covets their strength, and retains it in the ministry of His word and life. ‘’ Simon, Simon! Satan hath desired to have thee ‘^; he covets that passion of thine, that magnificent impulse of thine; but so does thy Master; and I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not! “The Lord will conserve our forces, and make them ministers of righteousness, for” the Kingdom of Heaven suffereth violence, and men of violence take it by force.’^

But what happens when men and women have no force of character, no distinguishing violence, when their basilar capacity is weak, when they are ‘’ wishy-washy,’^ nerveless, and impotent — what happens when men and women of this type enter into communion and covenant with the Lord? This happens: The Lord, who transforms the force of the violent, imparts force to the impotent. There is nothing more sure than this, that when the lordship and friendship of the King is honestly and sincerely accepted, the fellowship begets within the soul the energy of a powerful life. If such strength is no begotten, the strength of a storming party, it is because our communion is defective, and our surrender is incomplete. I remember that great figure used by our Lord in the fourth chapter of St. John? ^’ The water that I shall give him shall be in him a well.” It is the difference between a vessel of water and a spring, between a cistern and a river. There is little or no energy in a jug of water, but who can measure the dynamics of a spring? ‘’ The water that I shall give him shall be in him a well!” When the Lord comes into the life, energy is born, movement begins, rivers flow! ‘’ A well! ‘’ I say that the figure suggests the impartation of inexhaustible energy, life with unfathomable resource; it portrays the transition from impotence to violence, from passionless existence to a rushing, dashing exuberance that takes the Kingdom by storm.

And have I not seen it done times without number? Have I not seen the ignobly passionless become the nobly passionate? Have I not seen the Lord make His violent men? Let me name some of the elements I have seen added to life by the ministry of redeeming grace, and we will judge whether these do not furnish the equipment of strong and triumphant men. The Lord imparts to weak men and women decisiveness of aim. Life detaches itself from a multiplicity of distractions and gathers strength by its own intensity. A man of one book is not to be despised. A man of one idea may overturn a commonwealth. A man of one commanding spiritual ambition shall sit with the Lord on His throne. “This one thing I do,” and in the strength of that concentration all impotence is left behind. The Lord imparts to weak and passionless men and women the energy of strong and lively feelings. Says John Calvin: ‘^ The Gospel awakens powerful emotions.” And so it does! You have only to turn to our hymn book, to its great expressions of penitence, devotion and praise, to see how the feelings of men are deepened and swayed by the marvellous constraints of redeeming love. Sometimes the feelings are tossed like a troubled sea at midnight, and again they move in radiant triumph like a glorious swell in the light of the moon. Yes when the Lord comes into the life, the deeps are broken up, and the passion of the soul gains liberty and enrichment. And further still, the Lord imparts to impotent men the strength that comes from the harmonising of the powers, the unity of the individual estate. The individual life so frequently suffers the nature of an insurrection. There is no unanimity in the soul. Our powers are discordant, fighting at loggerheads, and we are pulled a dozen different ways. Many men’s souls are like an orchestral band before the conductor appears. Every instrument goes on journeys of its own proposing, and the result is Bedlam. And some men’s souls are like an orchestra when the conductor has appeared; the individual liberty is ended, and all the instruments co-operate in most harmonious ministry. When the great Conductor comes into the soul, harmony reigns, and ‘’ all that is within me” blesses and praises God’s holy name. And lastly, the Lord imparts to impotent souls the saving attribute of courage. Courage is sorely smitten when the powers of the soul are divided. When the powers of the soul are one, a man puts on courage like a robe.

Are not these elements which I have named the equipment of strong and triumphant men — decisiveness of aim, energy of feeling, the harmony of the powers, and the contagious attribute of courage? I say, on the authority of the Word of God, and by the testimony of human experience, that this is the character the Lord creates, strong men endowed with healthy passions, brave men who move irresistibly to well-defined ends, “men of violence,” who ‘’ take the Kingdom of Heaven by force.”

“The men of violence take it by force! “Yes, the success of our warfare lies in our taking the offensive. There is nothing so trying to the morale and endurance of troops as to be compelled to be for ever awaiting an attack. The moral advantage is invariably with the offensive. ‘’ The men of violence take it by force.” The weakness of so many is to be found just here; they are always on the defensive, and they never join the storming-party. They do not ‘^ go out,” like the chivalrous knights from Arthur’s table, ‘^ redressing human wrongs.” They await the enemy’s coming, they do not meet him on the way. In this high warfare it is the storming forces who win. ‘’ The men of violence take it by force.” Let us join the offensive forces, and in the very offence discover our security.” Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up toward the door of the palace; and behold, at the door stood a great company of men, as desirous to go in, but durst not. There also sat a man at a little distance from the door, at a tableside, with a book and his ink-horn before him, to take the name of him that should enter therein; he saw also that in the doorway stood many men in armour to keep ii, being resolved to do to the men that would enter what hurt and mischief they could. At last, when every man started back for fear of the armed men, Christian saw a man of a very stout countenance come up to the man that sat there to write, saying: Set down my name, sir ‘; the which, when he had done, he saw the man draw his sword, and put a helmet upon his head, and rush toward the door upon the armed men, who laid upon him with deadly force, but the man, not at all discouraged, fell to cutting and hacking most fiercely. So that, after he had received and given many wounds to those that attempted to keep him out, he cut his way through them all, and pressed forward into the palace; at which there was a pleasant voice heard from, those that were within, even of those that walked upon the top of the palace, saying —

*Come in! Come in!
Eternal glory thou shalt Trin.”*

“The Kingdom of Heaven suffereth violence, and the men of violence take it by force/^

“From strength to strength go on.
Wrestle, and fight, and pray.
Tread all the powers of darkness down
And win the well- fought day.”