Charles Kingsley - "Sir Walter Raleigh and his Time from"

George H.W. Bush - "State of the Union Addresses of George H.W. Bush"

Stephen Crane - "War is Kind"

Samuel Butler - "Unconscious Memory"

Twenty Five Village Sermons

C >> Charles Kingsley >> Twenty Five Village Sermons




For how is every one, whether heathen or Christian, child or man,
enlightened or taught, to live and behave? Is it not by the words
of those round him, by the words he reads in books, by the thoughts
which he thinks out and puts into shape for himself? All this is
the light which every human being has his share of. And has not
every man, too, the light of reason and good feeling, more or less,
to tell him whether each thing is right or wrong, noble or mean,
ugly or beautiful? This is another way by which the light which
lighteth every man works. And St. John tells us in the text, that
he who works in this way,--he who gives us the power of
understanding, and thinking, and judging, and speaking, is the very
same Word of God who was made flesh, and dwelt among men, and died
on the Cross for us; "the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of
the world!"

He is the Word of God--by Him God has spoken to man in all ages. He
taught Adam,--He spoke to Abraham as a man speaketh with his friend.
It was He Jehovah, whom we call Jesus, whom Moses and the seventy
elders saw--saw with their bodily eyes on Mount Sinai, who spoke to
them with human voice from amid the lightning and the rainbow. It
must have been only He, the Word, by whom God the Father utters
Himself to man, for no man hath seen God at any time; only the Word,
the only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, He hath
declared Him. And who put into the mouth of David those glorious
Psalms--the songs in which all true men for three thousand years
have found the very things they longed to speak themselves and could
not? Who but Christ the Word of God, the Lord, as David calls Him,
put a new song into the mouth of His holy poet,--the sweet singer of
Israel? Who spake by the prophets, again? What do they say
themselves?--"The Word of the Lord came to me, saying." And then,
when the Spirit of God stirred them up, the Word of God gave them
speech, and they said the sayings which shall never pass away till
all be fulfilled. And who was it who, when He was upon earth, spake
as never man spake,--whose words were the simplest, and yet the
deepest,--the tenderest, and yet the most awful, which ever broke
the blessed silence upon this earth,--whose words, now to this day,
come home to men's hearts, stirring them up to the very roots,
piercing through the marrow of men's souls,--whose but Christ's, the
Word, who was made flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and
truth? And who since then, do you think, has it been who has given
to all wise and holy poets, philosophers, and preachers, the power
to speak and write the wonderful truths which, by God's grace, they
thought out for themselves and for all mankind,--who gave them
utterance?--who but Christ, the Lord of men's spirits, the Word of
God, who promised to give to all His true disciples a mouth and
wisdom, which their enemies should not be able to gainsay or resist?

Well, my friends, ought not the knowledge of this to make us better
and wiser? Ought it not to make us esteem, and reverence, and use
many things of which we are apt to think too lightly? How it should
make us reverence the Bible, the written word of God's saints and
prophets, of God's apostles, of Christ, the Word Himself? Oh, that
men would use that treasure of the Bible as it deserves;--oh, that
they would believe from their hearts, that whatever is said there is
truly said, that whatever is said there is said to them, that
whatever names things are called there are called by their right
names. Then men would no longer call the vile person beautiful, or
call pride and vanity honour, or covetousness respectability, or
call sin worldly wisdom; but they would call things as Christ calls
them--they would try to copy Christ's thoughts and Christ's
teaching; and instead of looking for instruction and comfort to
lying opinions and false worldly cunning, they would find their only
advice in the blessed teaching, and their only comfort in the
gracious promises, of the word of the Book of Life.

Again, how these thoughts ought to make us reverence all books.
Consider! except a living man, there is nothing more wonderful than
a book!--a message to us from the dead--from human souls whom we
never saw, who lived, perhaps, thousands of miles away; and yet
these, in those little sheets of paper, speak to us, amuse us,
terrify us, teach us, comfort us, open their hearts to us as
brothers.

Why is it that neither angels, nor saints, nor evil spirits, appear
to men now to speak to them as they did of old? Why, but because we
have BOOKS, by which Christ's messengers, and the devil's messengers
too, can tell what they will to thousands of human beings at the
same moment, year after year, all the world over! I say, we ought
to reverence books, to look at them as awful and mighty things. If
they are good and true, whether they are about religion or politics,
farming, trade, or medicine, they are the message of Christ, the
Maker of all things, the Teacher of all truth, which He has put into
the heart of some man to speak, that he may tell us what is good for
our spirits, for our bodies, and for our country.

And at the last day, be sure of it, we shall have to render an
account--a strict account, of the books which we have read, and of
the way in which we have obeyed what we read, just as if we had had
so many prophets or angels sent to us.

If, on the other hand, books are false and wicked, we ought to fear
them as evil spirits loose among us, as messages from the father of
lies, who deceives the hearts of evil men, that they may spread
abroad the poison of his false and foul messages, putting good for
evil, and evil for good, sweet for bitter, and bitter for sweet,
saying to all men, 'I, too, have a tree of knowledge, and you may
eat of the fruit thereof, and not die.' But believe him not. When
you see a wicked book, when you find in a book any thing which
contradicts God's book, cast it away, trample it under foot, believe
that it is the devil tempting you by his cunning, alluring words, as
he tempted Eve, your mother. Would to God all here would make that
rule,--never to look into an evil book, a filthy ballad, a
nonsensical, frivolous story! Can a man take a snake into his bosom
and not be bitten?--can we play with fire and not be burnt?--can we
open our ears and eyes to the devil's message, whether of
covetousness, or filth, or folly, and not be haunted afterwards by
its wicked words, rising up in our thoughts like evil spirits,
between us and our pure and noble duty--our baptism-vows?

I might say much more about these things, and, by God's help, in
another sermon I will go on, and speak to you of the awful
importance of spoken words, of the sermons and the conversation to
which you listen, the awful importance of every word which comes out
of your own mouth. But I have spoken only of books this morning,
for this is the age of books, the time, one would think, of which
Daniel prophesied that many should run to and fro, and knowledge
should be increased. A flood of books, newspapers, writings of all
sorts, good and bad, is spreading over the whole land, and young and
old will read them. We cannot stop that--we ought not: it is God's
ordinance. It is more: it is God's grace and mercy, that we have a
free press in England--liberty for every man, that if he have any of
God's truth to tell he may tell it out boldly, in books or
otherwise. A blessing from God! one which we should reverence, for
God knows it was dearly bought. Before our forefathers could buy it
for us, many an honoured man left house and home to die in the
battle-field or on the scaffold, fighting and witnessing for the
right of every man to whom God's Word comes, to speak God's Word
openly to his countrymen. A blessing, and an awful one! for the
same gate which lets in good lets in evil. The law dare not silence
bad books. It dare not root up the tares lest it root up the wheat
also. The men who died to buy us liberty knew that it was better to
let in a thousand bad books than shut out one good one; for a grain
of God's truth will ever outweigh a ton of the devil's lies. We
cannot then silence evil books, but we can turn away our eyes from
them--we can take care that what we read, and what we let others
read, shall be good and wholesome. Now, if ever, are we bound to
remember that books are words, and that words come either from
Christ or the devil,--now, if ever, we are bound to try all books by
the Word of God,--now, if ever, are we bound to put holy and wise
books, both religious and worldly, into the hands of all around us,
that if, poor souls! they must need eat of the fruit of the tree of
knowledge, they may also eat of the tree of life,--and now, if ever,
are we bound to pray to Christ the Word of God, that He will raise
up among us wise and holy writers, and give them words and
utterance, to speak to the hearts of all Englishmen the message of
God's covenant, and that he may confound the devil and his lies, and
all that swarm of vile writers who are filling England with trash,
filth, blasphemy, and covetousness, with books which teach men that
our wise forefathers, who built our churches and founded our
constitution, and made England the queen of nations, were but
ignorant knaves and fanatics, and that selfish money-making and
godless licentiousness are the only true wisdom; and so turn the
divine power of words, and the inestimable blessing of a free press,
into the devil's engine, and not Christ's the Word of God. But
their words shall be brought to nought.

May God preserve us and all our friends from that defilement, and
may He give you all grace, in these strange times, to take care what
you read and how you read, and to hold fast by the Book of all
books, and Christ the Word of God. Try by them all books and men;
for if they speak not according to God's law and testimony, it is
because there is no truth in them.



SERMON XXV. THE COURAGE OF THE SAVIOUR



JOHN, xi. 7, 8.

"Then after that saith He to His disciples, Let us go into Judea
again. His disciples say to Him, Master, the Jews of late sought to
stone thee, and goest thou thither again?"

We all admire a brave man. And we are right. To be brave is God's
gift. To be brave is to be like Jesus Christ. Cowardice is only
the devil's likeness. But we must take care what we mean by being
brave. Now, there are two sorts of bravery--courage and fortitude.
And they are very different: courage is of the flesh,--fortitude is
of the spirit. Courage is good, but dumb animals have it just as
much as we. A dog, a tiger, and a horse, have courage, but they
have no fortitude,--because fortitude is a spiritual thing, and
beasts have no spirits like ours.

What is fortitude? It is the courage which will make us not only
fight in a good cause, but suffer in a good cause. Courage will
help us only to give others pain; fortitude will help us to bear
pain ourselves. And more, fortitude will make a fearful person
brave, and very often the more brave the more fearful they are. And
thus it is that women are so often braver than men. We, men, are
made of coarser stuff; we do not feel pain as keenly as women; and
if we do feel, we are rightly ashamed to shew it. But a tender
woman, who feels pain and sorrow infinitely more than we do, who
need not be ashamed of being frightened, who perhaps is terrified at
every mouse and spider,--to see her bearing patiently pain, and
sorrow, and shame, in spite of all her fearfulness, because she
knows it is her duty--that is Christ's likeness--that is true
fortitude--that is a sight nobler than all the "bull-dog courage" in
the world. For what is the courage of the bull-dog after all, or of
the strong quarrelsome man? He is confident in his own strength, he
is rough and hard, and does not care for pain; and when he thrusts
his head into a fight, like a surly dog, he does it not because it
is his duty, but because he likes it, because he is angry, and then
every blow and every wound makes him more angry, and he fights on,
forgetting his pain from blind rage.

That is not altogether bad; men ought to be courageous. But, oh! my
friends, is there not a more excellent way to be brave? and which is
nobler, to suffer bravely for God's sake, or to beat men made in
God's image bravely for one's own sake? Think of any fight you ever
saw, and then compare with that the stories of those old martyrs who
died rather than speak a word against their Saviour. If you want to
see true fortitude, think of what has happened thousands of times
when the heathen used to persecute the Christians.--How delicate
women, who would not venture to set the sole of their foot to the
ground for tenderness, would submit, rather than give up their
religion and deny the Lord who died for them, to be torn from
husband and family, and endure nakedness, and insult, and tortures
which make one's blood run cold to read of, till they were torn
slowly piecemeal, or roasted in burning flames, without a murmur or
an angry word,--knowing that Christ, who had borne all things for
them, would give them strength to bear all things for Him, trusting
that if they were faithful unto death, He would give them a crown of
life. There was true fortitude--there was true faith--there was
God's strength made perfect in woman's weakness! Do you not see, my
friends, that such a death was truly brave? How does bull-dog
courage shew beside that courage--the courage which conquers grief
and pain for duty's-sake, instead of merely forgetting them in rage
and obstinacy?

And do you not see how this bears on my text? How it bears on our
Lord's whole life? Was he not indeed the perfectly brave man--the
man who endured more than all living men put together, at the very
time that he had the most intense fear of what he was going to
suffer? And stranger still, endured it all of His own will, while
He had it in His power to shake it all off any instant, and free
Himself utterly from pain and suffering.

Now, this speech of our Lord's in the text is just a case of true
fortitude. He was beyond Jordan. He had been forced to escape
thither to save His life from the mad, blinded Jews. He had no
foolhardiness; He knew that He had no more right than we have to put
His life in danger when there was no good to be done by it. But now
there WAS good to be done by it. Lazarus was dead, and He wanted to
raise him to life. Therefore He said to His disciples, "Let us go
into Judea again." They knew the danger; they said, "Master, the
Jews of late sought to stone Thee, and goest Thou thither again?"
But He would go; He had a work to do, and He dared bear anything to
do His work. Ay, here is the secret, this is the feeling which
gives a man true courage--the feeling that he has a work to do at
all costs, the sense of duty. Oh! my friends, let men, women, or
children, once feel that they have a duty to perform, let them once
say to themselves, 'I am bound to do this thing--it is right for me
to do this thing; I owe it as a duty to my family, I owe it as a
duty to my country, I owe it as a duty to God, who called me into
this station of life; I owe it as a duty to Jesus Christ, who bought
me with His blood, that I might do His will and not my own
pleasure.'--When a man has once said that HONESTLY to himself, when
that glorious heavenly thought, 'IT IS MY DUTY,' has risen upon his
soul, like the sun upon the earth, warming his heart and
enlightening it and making it bring forth all good and noble fruits,
then that man will feel a strength come to him, and a courage from
God above, which will conquer all his fears and his selfish love of
ease and pleasure, and enable him to bear insults, and pain, and
poverty, and death itself, provided he can but do what is right, and
be found by God, whatever happens to him, working God's will where
God has put him. This is fortitude--this is true courage--this is
Christ's likeness--this is the courage which weak women on sick beds
may have as well as strong men on the battle-field. Even when they
shrink most from suffering, God's Spirit will whisper to them, 'It
is THY duty, it is thy Father's will,' and then they will find His
strength made perfect in their weakness, and when their human
weakness fails most God will give them heavenly fortitude, and they
will be able, like St. Paul, to say, "When I am weak, then I am
strong, for I can do all things through Christ, who strengtheneth
me."

And now, remember that there was no pride, no want of feeling to
keep up our Lord's courage. He has tasted sorrow for every man,
woman, and child, and therefore He has tasted fear also; tempted in
all things, like as we are, that in all things He might be touched
with the feeling of our infirmities,--that there might be no poor
soul terrified at the thought of pain or sorrow, but could comfort
themselves with the thought, Well, the Son of God knows what fear
is. He who said that His soul was troubled--He who at the thought
of death was in such agony of terror, that His sweat ran down to the
ground like great drops of blood,--He who cried in His agony,
"Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me,"--He
understands my pain,--He tells me not to be ashamed of crying in my
pain like Him, "Father, if it be possible let this cup pass from
me"--for He will give me the strength to finish that prayer of His,
and in the midst of my trouble say, "Nevertheless, Father, not as I
will, but as Thou wilt." Remember, again, that our Lord was not
like the martyrs of old, forced to undergo His sufferings whether He
liked them or not. We are too apt to forget that, and therefore we
misunderstand our Lord's example; and therefore we misunderstand
what true fortitude is. Jesus Christ was the Son of God; He had
made the very men who were tormenting Him; He had made the very wood
of the cross on which He hung, the iron which pierced His blessed
hands; and, for aught we know, one wish of His, and they would all
have crumbled into dust, and He have been safe in a moment. But He
would not; He ENDURED the cross. He was the only man who ever
really endured anything at all, because He alone of all men had
perfect power to save Himself, even when He was nailed to the tree,
fainting, bleeding, dying. It was never too late for Him to stop.
As He said to Peter when he wanted to fight for Christ, "Thinkest
thou that I cannot pray to my Father, and He will send me instantly
more than twelve legions of angels?" But HE WOULD NOT. He had to
save the world, and He was determined to do it, whatever agony or
fear it cost Him. St. Peter was a BRAVE man. He drew his sword in
the garden, and attacked, single-handed, that great body of armed
soldiers; cutting down a servant of the high-priest's. But he was
only brave, our Lord was more. The blessed Jesus had true
fortitude; He could BEAR patiently, while Peter could only rage and
fight uselessly. And see how Christ's fortitude lasted Him, while
Peter's mere courage failed him. While our Lord was witnessing that
glorious confession of His before Pilate, bearing on through,
without shrinking, even to the cross itself, where was Peter? He
had denied his Master, and ran shamefully away. He had a long
lesson to learn before he was perfect, had Peter. He had to learn
not how to fight, but how to suffer--and he learnt it; and in his
old age that strong, fierce St. Peter had true fortitude to give
himself up to be crucified, like his Lord, without a murmur, and
preach Christ's gospel as he hung for three whole days upon the
torturing cross. There was fortitude; that violence of his in the
garden was only courage as of a brute animal,--courage of the flesh,
not the true courage of the spirit. Oh, my friends, that we could
all learn this lesson, that it is better to suffer than to revenge,
better to be killed than to kill. There are times when a man must
fight--for his country, for just laws, for his family, but for
himself it is very seldom that he must fight. He who returns good
for evil,--he who when he is cursed, blesses those who curse him,--
he, who takes joyfully the spoiling of his goods, who submits to be
cheated in little matters, and sometimes in great ones, sooner than
ruin the poor sinful wretch who has ill-used him; that man has
really put on Christ's likeness, that man is really going on to
perfection, and fulfilling the law of love; and for everything he
gives up for the sake of peace and mercy, which is for God's sake,
God will reward him sevenfold into his bosom. There are times when
a man is bound to go to law, bound to expose and punish evil-doers,
lest they should, being unpunished, become confident and go on from
bad to worse, and hurt others as well as him. A man sometimes is
bound by his duty to his neighbours and to society to defend
himself, to go to law with those who injure him,--sometimes; but
never bound to revenge himself, never bound to say, 'He has hurt me,
and I will pay him off for it at law;' that is abusing law, which is
God's ordinance, for mere selfish revenge. You may say, it is
difficult to know which is which, when to defend oneself, and when
not. It is difficult; without the light of God's Spirit, I think no
man will know. But let a man live by God's Spirit, let him pray for
kindliness, mercifulness, manliness, and patience, for true
fortitude to bear and to forbear, and God will surely open his eyes
to see when he is called on to avenge an injury, and when he is
called on to suffer patiently. God will shew him--if a man wishes
to be like Christ, and to work like Christ, at doing good, God will
teach him and guide him in all puzzling matters like this. And do
not be afraid of being called cowards and milksops for bearing
injuries patiently--those who call you so will be likely to be the
greatest cowards themselves. Patience is the truest sign of
courage. Ask old soldiers, who have seen real war, and they will
tell you that the bravest men, the men who endured best, not in mere
fighting, but in standing still for hours to be mowed down by
cannon-shot; who were most cheerful and patient in shipwreck, and
starvation and defeat,--all things ten times worse than fighting,--
ask old soldiers, I say, and they will tell you that the men who
shewed best in such miseries, were generally the stillest and
meekest men in the whole regiment: that is true fortitude; that is
Christ's image--the meekest of men, and the bravest too. And so
books say, and seem to prove it, by many strange stories, that the
lion, while he is the strongest and bravest of beasts of prey, is
also the most patient and merciful. He knows his own strength and
courage, and therefore he does not care to be shewing it off. He
can afford to endure an affront. It is only the cowardly cur who
flies out and barks at every passer-by. And so with our blessed
Lord. The Bible calls Him the Lion of Judah; but it also calls Him
the Lamb dumb before the shearers. Ah, my friends, we must come
back to Him, for all the little that is great and noble in man or
woman, or dumb beast even, is perfected in Him; He only is perfectly
great, perfectly noble, brave, meek. He who to save us sinful men,
endured the cross, despising the shame, till He sat down at the
right hand of the Majesty on high, perfectly brave He is, and
perfectly gentle, and will be so for ever; for even at His second
coming, when He shall appear the Conqueror of hell, with tens of
thousands of angels, to take vengeance on those who know not God,
and destroy the wicked with the breath of His mouth, even then in
His fiercest anger, the Scripture tells us, His anger shall be "the
anger of the Lamb." Almighty vengeance and just anger, and yet
perfect gentleness and love all the while.--Mystery of mysteries!--
The wrath of the Lamb! May God give us all to feel in that day, not
the wrath, but the love of the Lamb who was slain for us!



Footnotes:

{1} "And when He was come to the other side, into the country of
the Gergesenes, there met Him two possessed with devils, coming out
of the tombs, exceeding fierce, so that no man might pass by that
way. And, behold, they cried out, saying, What have we do with
Thee, Jesus, Thou Son of God? Art Thou come hither to torment us
before the time? And there was a good way off from them an herd of
many swine feeding. So the devils besought him, saying, If Thou
cast us out, suffer us to go away into the herd of swine. And He
said unto them, Go. And when they were come out, they went into the
herd of swine: and, behold, the whole herd of swine ran violently
down a steep place into the sea, and perished in the waters."

{2} Von Stolberg.

Copyright (c) 2007. topbookz.net. All rights reserved.