Chapter 226 of 288

109SermonsbyJCRyle

109SermonsbyJCRyle

than a borrowed article, picked up and retailed by him who says it, because it sounds clever, while in reality it is not the language of his inner man. Sorrow, and sickness, and affliction, often bring out the strange fact that so-called sceptics are no sceptics at all, and that many talk scepticism merely from a desire to seem clever, and to win the temporary applause of clever men.

That there is an immense amount of unbelief in the present day I make no question; but that much of it is mere show and pretense, is to my mind as clear as noonday. No man, I think, can do pastoral work, and come to close quarters with souls, visit the sick, and attend the dying, without coming to that conclusion.

2. Let us now inquire WHY unbelief is so astonishing. What is there in unbelief, which made even the Lord Jesus, the Son of God marvel? No doubt there was something peculiar and extraordinary in the unbelief of the Jews. That the children of Israel, brought up from their infancy in the knowledge of the law and the prophets, trained from their earliest years to look for the Messiah, and to expect a mighty "prophet like unto Moses," taught to believe in the possibility of miracles, and familiar with the story of miracle-working men— that they should reject Jesus of Nazareth, and not be moved by the mighty works which He did among them—all this was truly astonishing and surprising! Astonishing that they should have such privileges—and yet make such a bad use of them! Astonishing that the door of life should be open, and heaven so near—and they should refuse to enter in!

But, I suspect, the Holy Spirit would have us look deeper than this. He would have us know that if we sit down and calmly consider unbelief, we cannot avoid the conclusion, that there is something singularly astonishing about it and never so much so as in these latter days of the world. Let me try to show what I mean.

(1) For one thing, unbelief is a spiritual disease peculiar to Adam's children. It is a habit of soul entirely confined to man.

Angels in heaven above, and fallen spirits in hell beneath, saints waiting for the resurrection in paradise, lost sinners waiting for the last judgment in that awful place where the worm never dies, and the fire is not quenched—all these have one point in common—they all believe! The rich man in the parable, when he lifted up his eyes in torment, and asked for a drop of water to cool his tongue, and pleaded hard for his five brethren, had bid an eternal farewell to unbelief. "The very devils," says James, "believe and tremble." (James 2.19.) Hateful, and hating, and malicious, and murderous, and lying as Satan is called in Scripture, we read that his agents cried, "We know You who You are—the Holy One of God!" "Have You come to torment us before the time!" (Matthew 8. 29.)

But man, living man, is the only intelligent creature who is unbelieving! I say "living man" advisedly. Alas! What a waking up remains for many, the moment the last breath is drawn. There is no unbelief in hell. Voltaire now knows whether there is a sin-hating God; and David Hume now knows whether there is an endless hell. The infant of days, by merely dying, acquires a knowledge which the subtlest philosophers, while on earth, profess their inability to attain. The dead Hottentot knows more than the living Socrates. Surely a habit of soul so absolutely and entirely confined to "living man," may well be called astonishing.

(2) For another thing, unbelief is astonishing, when you consider its arrogance and presumption. For, after all how little the wisest of men know; and none are more ready to confess it than themselves. How enormously ignorant the greater part of mankind are, if you come to examine the measure of their knowledge. The education of the vast majority of people is wretchedly meager and superficial. Most of us cease learning at twenty-one, and then plunge into some profession in which we have little time for thought and reading, and are annually more absorbed in family cares and troubles, and add little to our stock of knowledge. Fifty or sixty years after this, our part is played out, and we retire from the stage, rarely leaving the world a wiser world than it was when we were born!

And does unbelief befit a creature like this? Is it seemly for him to talk in a skeptical and sneering tone about the revelation which the Eternal God has been pleased to make of Himself, and the unseen future, in that marvelous Book the Bible? I appeal to common sense for a reply. "Honest doubt" is a fine thing to talk about, and men are fond of saying it is "better than half the creeds." But when a man tells you he is troubled with skeptical and unbelieving feeling about Christianity, while he has probably never thought deeply about religion at all, it is impossible to avoid the conclusion that one of the most foolish things in much unbelief, is its astonishing self-conceit.

(3) For another thing, unbelief is astonishing, when you consider its unfairness and one-sidedness. Who has not known that some of the minor facts and miracles of the Bible are the ostensible reasons which many assign why they cannot receive the Book as true, and make it their rule of faith and practice. They point to the ark, and the passage of the Red Sea, and Balaam's donkey, and Jonah in the whale's belly—and ask you sarcastically if you really believe such things to be credible and historically true. And all this time they refuse to look at three great facts which never can be denied, and which no higher criticism can possibly explain away.

(a) One of those facts is the historical Person Jesus Christ Himself. How He can have been what He was on earth, lived as He lived, taught as He taught, and made the mark He has certainly made on the world—if He was not truly God, and One miraculously sent down from heaven—is a question which those who sneer at Balaam's donkey find it convenient to evade.

(b) Another fact is the Bible itself. How this Book, with all its alleged difficulties, written by a few Jews in a corner of the earth, who wrote nothing else worth reading, can be the Book that it is, so immeasurably and incomparably superior to anything else penned by man, and hold the position it holds after 1900 years' use—how all this can be, if the Book was not miraculously given by inspiration of God, is a knot which cannot be untied.

(c) The third and last fact is the effect which Christianity has had on mankind—the amazing change which has taken place in the state of the world since Christianity—and the difference at this day between those parts of the globe where the Bible is read, and those where it is not known. Nothing can account for this, but the Divine origin of Scriptural religion. No other explanation will stand.

Now these three great facts are coolly ignored by many unbelievers! They will talk by the hour about minor difficulties in the way of faith, while they refuse to touch the weighty, patent facts which I have just been naming. The difficulties of infidelity are a wide and interesting subject, which deserves more attention from the defenders of Revelation than it receives. But the unfair and unreasonable extent to which many nowadays concentrate their minds on small disputable points of revealed religion, while they refuse to look at the great standing evidences of God's truth, is to my mind one of the most astonishing features of modern unbelief!

(4) Fourthly, and lastly, unbelief is astonishing when you consider how the vast majority of those who profess it drop it, and give it up at last. Few of us perhaps have the least idea how seldom any man leaves the world an infidel. The near approach of death has a mighty effect on consciences, and brings into fearful relief the utter superficiality of much that is called scepticism. The very people who go through life sneering and scoffing at Christianity, continually break down in their own last hours, and are glad enough to send for the ministers of religion, and seek comfort in the old doctrine of the despised creeds. Some, with a mighty swing of the pendulum, go from one extreme to another, and, after living sceptics for years, are willing to be read to, and prayed with, and receive the Lord's Supper, after neglecting every Christian ordinance and despising God's house for scores of years. Wretched indeed must systems be, which prove so useless and comfortless in the hour when comfort is most needed!

But the wonder of all wonders is, that these failures of unbelief are so notoriously and constantly occurring, and yet men will not see them, and the ranks of scepticism are perpetually filled by fresh recruits. If those who profess to deny Revelation generally died happy deaths, and left the world in great peace and joy, holding their opinions to the last, we might well expect them to have followers. But when, on the contrary, it is the rarest thing to see an unbeliever dying calmly in unbelief and giving no sign of discomfort, while the vast majority of unbelievers throw down their arms at last, and seek for the very religious consolation which they once affected to despise—it is impossible to avoid one broad conclusion. That conclusion is—that of all spiritual diseases by which fallen man is afflicted, there is none so truly astonishing and unreasonable as unbelief.

And now let me wind up this subject, with a few words of kindly advice to all my readers, and especially to the young. I am no longer young myself. It is thirty-five years since I first began to write on pious subjects. But even now I think I know the heart of a young man. I can remember the days when I tried hard to be an unbeliever, because true religion crossed my path, and I did not like its holy requirements. I was delivered from that pit, I believe, by the grace of God leading me to a book which, of late years, has undeservedly fallen out of sight, I mean "Faber's Difficulties of Infidelity." I read that book, and felt it could not be answered. But the remembrance of the struggle I went through in those days is still fresh in my mind, and I always have a deep feeling of sympathy, when I hear of the mental conflicts of young men.

Some of my readers, I dare say, are often troubled with skeptical doubts about the truth of Christianity. You are not professed unbelievers; God forbid that I should say this. But you see many things in the Bible which you cannot quite understand. You see not a few men of powerful and commanding intellect, rejecting

Christianity almost entirely. You hear many, slighting things said, and depreciatory remarks made cleverly and smartly about the facts and doctrines of the Bible, which you are unable to answer. All this puzzles you. You stand in doubt. Is it really worth while to pray in private, and read the Bible, and keep the Sunday holy, and attend the Lord's Table? Is it necessary? Questions such as these are the first steps in the downward road. Unless you take heed, they may land you in infidelity. Listen to me while I offer a few FRIENDLY COUNSELS.

(a) For one thing, let me entreat you to deal honestly with your soul about secret sins. Are you quite sure there is not some bad habit, or lust, or passion, which, almost insensibly to yourself, you would like to indulge—if it were not for some remaining religious scruples? Are you quite sure that your doubts do not arise from a desire to get rid of pious restraint? You would like, if you could, to do something the Bible forbids, and you are looking about for reasons for disregarding the Bible. Oh! if this is the case with any of you— awaken to a sense of your danger! Break the chains which are gradually closing round you. Pluck out the right eye, if need be; but never be the servant of sin. I repeat—that the secret love of some wicked indulgence, is the real beginning of a vast amount of infidelity!

(b) In the next place, let me ask you to deal honestly with your soul about the use of means for acquiring religious knowledge. Can you lay your hand on your heart and say that you really take pains to find out what is truth? Do not be ashamed to pray for light. Do not be ashamed of reading some choice Christian book; and, above all, do not be ashamed of regularly studying the text of your Bible. Thousands, I am persuaded, in this day, know nothing of the Holy Book which they affect to despise, and are utterly ignorant of the real nature of that Christianity which they pretend they cannot believe. Let not that be the case with you. That famous "honest doubt" which many say is "better than half the creeds," is a pretty thing to talk about. But I venture a strong suspicion that much of the scepticism of the present day, if sifted and analyzed, would be found to spring from utter ignorance of the primary evidences of Christianity. For my part, I take my stand on these words of Solomon, "My son, if you accept my words and store up my commands within you, listening closely to wisdom and directing your heart to understanding; furthermore, if you call out to insight and lift your voice to understanding, if you seek it like silver and search for it like hidden treasure, then you will understand the fear of the Lord and discover the knowledge of God. For the Lord gives wisdom; from His mouth come knowledge and understanding." Proverbs 2:1-6.

(c) Last, but not least, let me entreat you to deal honestly with true religion—and those who profess it. That there is such a religion in the midst of us, and that there are thousands who profess it, are simple facts which nobody can deny. These thousands believe without doubting, certain great truths of Christianity, and live and die in their belief. Let it be admitted that, in some points, these men of faith do not agree in minor points—such as the Church, the ministry, and the sacraments. But after every deduction, there remains an immense amount of common theology, about which their faith is one.

On such points as sin, and God, and Christ, and the atonement, and the authority of the Bible, and the importance of holiness, and the necessity of prayer, and self-denial, and the value of the soul, and the reality of heaven and hell, and judgment, and eternity—on such points as these, I say, all Christians are very much of one mind. Now I ask—is it honest to turn away from these men and the Christian religion with contempt, because they have many weaknesses and infirmities? Is it fair to despise their religion, and wrap yourself up in unbelief, because of their controversies and strifes? Mark the fruits of peace, and hope, and comfort, which they enjoy. Mark the solid work which, with all their faults, they do in the world, in lessening sorrow and sin—and increasing happiness, and improving their fellow-men. What fruits and work can unbelief show, which will bear comparison with the fruits of faith?

Look these facts in the face and deal honestly with them. Systems ought to be judged by their fruits and results. When the so-called systems of modern unbelief, and scepticism, and free thought, can point to as much good done in the world by their adherents, as simple faith has done by the hand of its friends—we may give them some attention. But until they do that, I boldly say, that the simple, old-fashioned Christian religion, has just claim on our respect, esteem, and obedience, and ought not to be despised.

After all, I must conclude with the humbling and sorrowful remark, that we who profess faith, and are never troubled with unbelief, are not altogether free from blame. Too often our faith is little better than a mere "useless assent" to certain theological propositions, but not a living, burning, active principle—which works by love, purifies the heart, and overcomes the world. It is not the faith which made primitive Christians rejoice under Roman persecution, and made Luther stand up boldly before the Diet of Worms, and made Ridley and Latimer "love not their lives to the death," and made Wesley give up his position at Oxford to become the Evangelist of England. We are truly guilty in this matter.

If there was more real faith on earth, I suspect there would be less unbelief. Scepticism, in many a case, would shrink, and dwindle, and melt away—if it saw faith more awake and alive, and active, and stirring. Let us, for Christ's sake, and the sake of souls, amend our ways in this matter. Let us pray daily, "Lord, increase our faith!" Let us live, and move, and have our being, and deal with men, as if we really believed every jot and tittle of our creeds; and as if a dying, risen, interceding, and coming Christ were continually before our eyes. This, I am firmly convinced, is the surest way to oppose and diminish unbelief. Let the time past suffice us to have lived content with a cold tame assent to creeds. Let the time to come find us living, active believers. It was a solemn saying, which fell from the lips of an eminent minister of Christ on his death-bed—"We are none of us more than half awake!" If believers were more thorough, and real, and whole-hearted in their belief—there would be far less unbelief in the world!

Neglect Not the Gift

by J. C. Ryle

"Neglect not the gift that is in you, which was given you by prophecy, with the laying on of the hands of the presbytery." 1 Timothy 4:14

Brethren, the leading topics of the subject committed to me appear to be the ministerial office, and the imperative duty of not neglecting it. Paul speaks to Timothy of his office, as "a gift." And he says of this gift, "neglect it not." In opening the subject I trust I may be allowed to remind my brethren that the orders of Timothy and Titus ought to be specially interesting to them.

I consider that, strictly speaking, no minister of the Gospel of the present day, whatever may be his church or denomination, has any right to regard himself as a "successor of the apostles." I believe that, in strict accuracy, the apostles had no successors at all. Their office was a peculiar office. Their order was a peculiar order. Both office and order ceased at their death. The apostles were specially called, and immediately set apart by the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. They had the power of speaking with other languages. They were enabled to confirm the doctrines they preached by miracles and signs. They had the power of infallibly declaring God's truth, and expounding His mind to the world. They were commissioned to bind and loose sins with authority. They could confer gifts upon others. In all these respects they stood alone. We are not their successors. They never had any successors! They were an order intended to continue until the Canon of Scripture was concluded, and no longer. The ministers of the present day are the successors of Timothy and Titus; but not of Paul, Peter, James, and John. I feel that this is a digression, but the importance of the subject must be my apology.

I. With regard to the ministerial office, the first thing that I would notice—is the importance of regarding it as an office which is built on plain warrant of holy scripture. It is "a gift," solemnly and publicly conferred with "the laying on of hands." There is great danger of forgetting this in the present day. On one side the reaction and rebound from Romish error, and the natural tendency of our minds to fly from one extreme to another, are calculated to make us underrate the value of a regular ministry. On the other side the bold assertion of the Plymouth Brethren, and others, that all forms, ministry, and systems are wrong, is likely to make us undervalue the importance of having an order of men specially called and set apart to preach the word, and attend to holy things. I abhor the idea of setting up ministers as mediators between Christ and the soul. I believe it was never intended that the outward government of Christian churches should be always one and the same. But notwithstanding all this, I firmly hold the opinion that the Christian ministry is of divine appointment. I am satisfied from examination of Scripture, that in every visible church there should be an order of men called and set apart for preaching and pastoral work. And with every feeling of respect for Christians who think otherwise, I must declare my own firm conviction, that the Christian ministry is plainly set forth in the epistles to Timothy and Titus, as an institution of God.

I would remark, in the next place, that although the Christian ministry is a Scriptural institution—we must be careful not to attach a superstitious value to what are commonly called "ordination," and the ministerial office. There is always danger of doing this. The human mind is so weak, that it is constantly inclined to extremes. It is very common to see ministers taking an extravagant view of the benefits, powers, and privileges conferred on themselves by their ordination. Let it be a settled principle in our minds, that ordination is no magic charm. It does no one good automatically. It conveys no necessary accompaniments of grace or gifts. It endows a man with no infallibility. It does not invest him with any special capacity for expounding, explaining, and interpreting the Word of God without danger of mistake. It does not give him any power of conferring grace upon others. Above all, it does not make him a sacrificing priest, and a mediator between God and man.

All this should be well remembered. No doubt the man who offers himself for ordination with an honest and good heart, inwardly moved by the Holy Spirit, and sincerely desirous to preach not himself, but Christ—such an one may reasonably expect a special blessing on his ordination—a greater blessing than if he undertook to preach the Gospel of his own will, without any outward call. But the chief danger in the present day, is that of attaching an extravagant value to ordination. Let us be on our guard.

The next remark I will make, is one near akin to the last. We should beware of resting our claim to the people's attention on our outward call only. It will never do to tell our people, "We are your ordained ministers, and therefore you must believe and follow whatever we tell you." On the contrary, we must tell them to prove our teaching by Scripture, and not to receive it unless it is scriptural. That man has no right to expect the attention of his people, who does not preach the Gospel and live the Gospel. The rule of Paul is clear on this point. He told the Thessalonians to esteem their ministers very highly "for their work's sake." (1 Thess. 5:13.)

When there is no "work" done, it is vain to expect the people's esteem. It should never be forgotten, that men have often received the outward call, and been regularly set apart and ordained—and yet been rather a curse to the Church of Christ than a blessing! Hophni and Phineas were in the regular succession from Aaron, and yet they made men abhor the offering of the Lord. (1 Sam. 2:17.) Annas and Caiaphas were in the right line from Aaron, and yet delivered our Lord to Pontius Pilate. Councils of regularly ordained and consecrated bishops have frequently sanctioned and decreed great heresies!

At the same time it is notorious that God has frequently granted large blessings to the labors of men who were never ordained at all. I need hardly remind you of the Quakers, of Howell Harris, of Robert Haldane, and many others. After all, I will take leave to remind my brethren, that the servant's message is of far more importance than his ordination; and the physician's skill in using medicines more valued by the patient, than his diploma. It is honorable to be sent as an ambassador from the King of kings on so important a matter as that of offering the peace of God to a sinful world. But the title of 'ambassador' is of no value at all, if we carry no message of peace, and have no tidings to tell about the King.

II. With regard to the other main part of my subject, that is, the imperative duty of "not neglecting the gift given to us," I deeply feel my own need of exhortation from others. I trust that in speaking of it, you will believe I am addressing myself as well as others. Let Paul's words ring in our ears this day: "neglect not the gift." All ministers of the Gospel are in danger of neglecting their duty. There is a risk of getting into a state of melancholy and depression, when the first excitement and novelty of our office are worn off. Many, perhaps, expect what they have no right to expect, and then relapse into despondency, under the idea that they can do nothing, when they see sin and unbelief abounding around them. Against this desponding frame of mind all ministers need to be on their guard.

Above all men they need patience. He who cannot "wait" for fruit, as well as "work," never ought to be ordained. But I may be allowed to say, that of all ministers, none are in such peculiar danger of "neglecting their gift," as the ministers of the Established Church of England. Their position, no doubt, has its special advantages. But it has also its special perils. About the nature of these perils I beg leave to offer a few suggestions.

I would suggest, for one thing, to my brethren, that we all need to beware of ministerial indolence. It is painful to observe how easy it is for a watchman of souls to go back from his "first love," and subside into a cold, apathetic, torpid frame of mind. No one is more liable to this, perhaps, than the rector of a parish in a rural district. I speak feelingly on this point. It is my own position. I am persuaded that we have certain peculiar temptations, from which our brethren in towns are very much exempt. The rector of a rural parish has frequently a sufficient income, a good house, and a small population. Very often he has no neighbors to hold communion with. His parishioners are probably farmers and laborers—people of little or no reading, or mental cultivation. The field for exercising his talents is naturally excessively small. It is difficult to fill up his time with ministerial work. The range of subjects he can handle in the pulpit is necessarily confined. I describe a common case, I believe. I declare my own conviction, that no state of things can be conceived more likely to bring over a man's mind, insensibly almost to himself, stagnation and rust. In fact, I firmly believe, that many a young minister, who at college distinguished himself, and took a good degree, has been lost, engulfed, and buried—so far as usefulness goes—by unhappily giving way to the habits of indolence, which such a position is calculated to engender. Many a clergyman who, at one time, did run well and bade fair to be an ornament to the Church of Christ, winds up with the ignominious label, of being nothing more than a clerical farmer, gardener, musician, or painter. I implore my rural brethren to remember this. I feel the approach of this plague often myself I am sure we have special need to beware of indolence.

I suggest, for another thing, that we ought to beware of neglecting the habit of reading. I do not wish to make an idol of learning and book knowledge; but I am satisfied that an unlearned ministry, in these days of progress and wide-spread education, will never command a people's respect. Men must read, if their ministry is not to become threadbare, thin, and a mere repetition of hackneyed commonplaces. Always taking out of their minds, and never putting in—they must naturally come to the bottom. Reading will alone make a full man. And here I will just remark, that to meet the evils of the day, ministers must read books they do not agree with. They must show that they know the false doctrines they have to combat. Just as a doctor must be familiar with morbid anatomy and poisons, so must a minister be acquainted with the false doctrines of the present day.

I would suggest, for another thing, that we must beware of neglecting the preparation of our sermons. I am sorry to say there seems to me great need for this caution. I fear that many are apt to spend their whole time in their schools, in visiting their people, in attending to the sick, or in contriving and working "church machinery", and so to leave themselves little or no time for preparation fo their sermons. I deeply regret this. It is a great mistake. No possible labor of a practical kind can ever compensate for inadequate preparation for the pulpit. A minister's sermons should be incomparably the first and chief thing in his thoughts, every week that he lives. He must ever recollect that he is not ordained to be a schoolmaster, a relieving officer, or a doctor—but to preach the Word of God. The minister who slurs over his preaching under the excuse of other work, has no right to expect God's blessing.

Men talk of "the foolishness of preaching," as if that was a reason for neglecting their sermons. It should be remembered, that the foolishness of preaching is one thing, and foolish preaching quite another. It is impossible that a sermon which costs neither time nor thought, can, as a general rule, be good. What costs nothing—is generally worth nothing.

As to the idea of some, that preaching is not of so much importance now as formerly, I believe it to be wholly fallacious. On the contrary, I believe there never was a time when the pulpit had such power as it has now. Education has not made sermons useless. On the contrary, education has made men better judges of what sermons ought to be, and less likely to be satisfied with a weak and ill-digested sermon, than they were fifty years ago.

I cannot help remarking before I leave this part of my subject, how much it is to be regretted that the preparation of young men for the ministerial office, is so thoroughly inadequate as it is at present. Is there a single theological college at this day, to which anyone could, with entire satisfaction, recommend a young man to go? I believe in my conscience, that there is none. I regard this as one of the gloomiest points in the position of the Church of England. The sources from which the ministry is supplied are not trustworthy. I consider one of the great needs of the day to be a new theological college, in some central position, for training young men for the ministry, at a moderate expense, on a thoroughly sound Protestant and evangelical basis. I earnestly hope the day may come when such a college may be called into being.

I would suggest, in the next place, that we must beware of conformity to the world. The ministers of the Church of England are in special danger of this. Their position in society lays them open to many temptations. Their families are often occasions of shortcoming. Worldliness is destructive to usefulness. The clergyman whose own life and family are worldly, will find exhortations against worldliness go for very little with his people.

I would suggest, in the last place, that we must beware of formality. Familiarity with sacred things is very dangerous. Unless a minister watches his own spirit, he may get into the habit of doing the most spiritual acts in a mere perfunctory way. It is possible to preach the truth forcibly—to read the service solemnly—and visit a parish regularly—and yet to have a heart wandering away into the ends of the earth. This is a point on which the utmost vigilance is needed.

I will conclude all I have said, by reminding you, that the secret of our strength, must be daily communion with the Lord Jesus. To be safe, we must be watchful, humble, self-denying, prayerful, and given to much private meditation.

I am satisfied that the happiest minister is the man who most diligently discharges the office committed to him. None, I am sure, is so miserable as the minister, who, from indolence, or any other motive, lives below his light, and neglects his work. After all, no work is so satisfactory, and so lasting—as the work of a faithful preacher of the Gospel. None have so good a Master. None will receive such wages. A missionary who had labored for the Wesleyan Society, and died at the age of ninety-five, heard his friends round his death-bed saying one to another, "What would our old friend do, if he had to live his life over again?" He rose on his pillow, and said, "The very best thing that a man can do, is to preach the Gospel!"

Ready to Be Offered

By J. C. Ryle

"For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all those who love his appearing." (2 Timothy 4:6-8)

In these words you see the apostle Paul looking three ways— downwards, backwards, forward. Downwards to the grave, backwards to his own ministry, forward to that great day, the day of judgment. Let us stand by his side a few minutes, and mark the words he uses. Happy is that soul among us who can look where Paul looked, and then speak as Paul spoke.

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