tion which was passing away; under that dispensation, the promises and immediate blessings of which were temporal. Perhaps, then, their feeling was something of this sort: If rich men, the favourites of heaven, the chosen objects of God's bounty, can scarcely be saved, how can any hope for salvation? "who then can be saved?” And yet I think this is scarcely the true account of the feelings with which the disciples spoke. For they could hardly have forgotten the blessing which Christ had so emphatically given to the poor, and the woes He had pronounced against those who had received their portion in this world. Besides, had they spoken in forgetfulness of these blessings and woes, it seems that our Lord would rather have answered by reminding them of the truths they had forgotten, than by saying, "The things which are impossible with men, are possible with God." Nay, more; by this answer He acknowledges the truth of their inference. He allows the difficulty, the impossibility of any being saved, excepting by the power of God. How then did this severe sentence about the rich come to be so actually felt by the disciples, who were poor? Why did they feel themselves included, as it were, in a judgment from which they seemed by their circumstances to be exempted? Their answer, it seems to me, was perfectly natural, because of their true sympathy with the young man who had just gone away so sadly. They had seen his eagerness and earnestness. They had heard and believed his profession of former obedience to the law. They had no doubt perceived the affection with which Jesus regarded him. And then they had sympathized with his difficulty. Their own hearts, no doubt, had witnessed to them their own desire for riches and the worldly honours connected with them, and so they felt themselves included in his danger. They had watched the struggle in him between good and evil, and had seen the evil overcoming; and the root of that same evil they felt was in themselves. How then could they be saved? how could any man be saved if he could not? His actual riches were his hindrance; their love of riches, honours, power, and place, must be an equal hindrance to them. "Who, then," they felt and said, “can be saved?" And no doubt we, my brethren, may naturally feel as they felt. Indeed, we certainly shall partake their fear and doubt, if we partake their sympathy for the hard struggle of the young ruler. For, if we hear our conscience, it will tell us that we too have the seeds, at least, of covetousness and ambition within us, and should find the same difficulty in relinquishing all for Christ's sake that he found. But supposing we were in no degree either covetous or ambitious, yet we might on reading this history naturally inquire, "Who then can be saved?" For we might consider, Each man has his peculiar trial, his special hindrance in the way of eternal life. So that if the possession and love of riches barred the young ruler from the kingdom of heaven, in like manner one man by poverty, another by numerous engagements, another by his friends, another by sickness, another by ignorance, another by learning, and another by power, would be hindered in the same way from attaining his salvation. Thus, moved by the natural sympathy of man for man, may we exclaim, on the perusal of this history, "Who then can be saved?" And to all who humbly and selfdiffidently make this anxious inquiry, our Lord graciously and compassionately replies for their complete re-assurance, "The things which are impossible with men, are possible with God.” But, my brethren, there is a way of making this inquiry, of indulging and expressing this doubt about the difficulty of being saved, which is peculiarly dangerous. And it may be taken as the expression of a very common form of self-deception. There are indeed few temptations, by which men are more commonly induced to put off the commencement of a really religious life than this idea, that there is something in their present circumstances which renders it peculiarly difficult for them to live religiously. Each man realizes most vividly his own difficulties, and if he does not think them insuperable, yet he imagines they afford a sufficient excuse for his waiting, before his improvement begins, until they are removed. Such men do not so much say with the disciples, "Who then can be saved ?" as, "How can I be saved, when my trials and difficulties are so great? The effort to begin the working out my salvation will be too great for me at present, I will wait until my hindrances are removed." No excuse, my brethren, is more common than L this, and none is more dangerous; for it deceives him who makes it, and helps to satisfy him with his present state, without making that state at all the safer. How common this deception is, we, the ministers of Christ, have frequent opportunities of observing; so often hearing excuses of the same kind pleaded as reasons for keeping back from a holier life and more earnest devotion. One man will say, "I know that I am not living as I ought to do. I acknowledge that I ought to be more earnest, and take more pains, and become a communicant; but then I am in business, and really the ways of trade are not consistent with a truly religious life: I do not mean to say that we are dishonest, but while I do as my calling obliges me to do, I cannot be a communicant. When I have retired from business, I may do so; but now I cannot." Another person will say, “I have a burden of anxiety and care, a large family, and no prospect of providing for them; I cannot find leisure nor peace of mind, nor thoughtfulness such as those things require. It is a serious thing to receive the Communion; and I should like to have more time to think it over than I can find at present." Another man will say that his friends and relations are so worldly-minded, and so profane; there is so much goes on at home which a good man ought not to hear, that he feels he cannot serve God as he would, and dares not bind himself to God's service, as he feels that receiving the Holy Communion would bind him. An anxious mother pleads the cares and troubles which her children cause her; a young man, the ridicule of his companions, or the strength of his passions; and even those who are on the bed of sickness will plead their weakness, and the pain which thought causes them, as reasons for putting off the effort to live for God until some change shall occur to make it easier. My brethren, have you ever thus turned away from the warning voice of God's minister, or the secret but more awful voice of your own conscience? Have you ever thought, At present I cannot make the effort, I cannot forsake the world, repent of my sins, and serve God; I will wait till it is easier? 995 I beseech you, my brethren, do not deceive yourselves. Your difficulties may be great, your trials sore, your temptations urgent, your circumstances (as they seem to you) an almost insuperable barrier between you and your God; and yet "There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man. If your difficulties are great to you, another man's are equally great to him; and your own difficulties at any future time of life will probably be as great as they are now, and not improbably greater. Whatever they may be hereafter (or whether you may be removed from this life before your circumstances change, and without a further probation) God only knows; but your present difficulties are not insuperable, by the grace of God. "The things which are impossible with men, are possible with God." It is by God's electing love 51 Cor. x. 13. |