Men of the Bible; Some Lesser-Known Characters Part 11

Men of the Bible; Some Lesser-Known Characters Part 11

The duty of the Christian teacher must be first of all to proclaim Christ and His salvation, to announce the glad tidings of mercy and of love to sinful men.

This is not, of course, to say that every address or sermon is to be occupied with the objective facts of Christ's life and death. Such teaching would soon become monotonous and wearisome, and fail in the very purpose it set before it. Nor have men only to be awakened to the truth, they must be built up in it. And the practical question for us all is to learn how to apply and carry out in our daily lives, the truths we have received, how to make our conduct correspond to our creed. That opens up an endless field for the evangelist's work: that introduces us to lectures on Home Missions and Foreign Missions, to the story of n.o.ble lives; to all, in fact, that is likely to deepen and to quicken our moral nature. But still this remains as the fundamental object of the whole evangel, to preach Jesus, to bring those to Him who know Him not, to strengthen and to comfort those who do.

When, then, men call upon the Christian teacher to leave the objective facts of the gospel alone, and to occupy himself with the philosophic and social questions of the day, they are calling upon him to surrender his special function and duty. He must indeed endeavour so to present the truth so as to meet the peculiar wants of his own time. The form in which the gospel was presented in one age may not be the best form of presenting it in another. At one time it may be necessary to emphasise one aspect of the truth, at another, another. But underneath all its changing forms and aspects, _the_ truth remains unchanged; and it is that which must be taught.

And after all, has not the simple gospel message ever proved itself the one message that can touch the hearts and meet the wants of men? What was it, for example, in the preaching of Savonarola that so mightily moved Florence, the elegant, refined, wicked, pagan Florence of the fifteenth century? He himself tells us that it was the preaching of Scripture truth. When he discoursed in a philosophical manner, the ignorant and the learned were alike inattentive: but "the word"

mightily delighted the minds of men, and showed its divine power in the reformation of their lives. Or, to take another instance from nearer home. Archdeacon Wilson describes somewhere the experience of the promoters of a certain evening-cla.s.s, which they had inst.i.tuted for the benefit of some of the more ignorant and degraded inhabitants of Bristol. All that they could think of they did for the benefit of the men who gathered to it. They read to them; they sang to them: they taught them to read and write. Yet, in course of time, interest flagged. Every expedient failed, and they were on the point of abandoning the work in despair, when it occurred to them to apply to the men themselves. "What would you like us to tell you about next?"

they asked. "Could you tell us something about Jesus Christ?" answered one of the men. That was the one thing needful, the one abiding satisfaction for their deepest needs.

And so ever. It may be strange, but it is true, that it is "_the Man of Sorrows_" who has won the love of men; it is the Saviour who has been lifted up on high out of the earth, who has drawn all men to Himself. Christ: Christ crucified: Christ risen: that is the message which every Christian evangelist has to declare.

III.

His Message of Glad Tidings.

And is not that good news? "_Beginning from that same scripture, Philip preached the GLAD TIDINGS of Jesus_."

Philip made the eunuch's previous knowledge the starting-point of all that he had to say, and, as he went on, showed how there was in his message the answer to all his doubts and the solution of all his difficulties.

And the gospel has still the same meaning for us. It has a message for the man struggling with the battle of life, in the example of One who has fought that fight before, who knows its every trial and sorrow, and who has come gloriously through them all. It has a message for the sinner, brooding anxiously over his guilty past, conscious only of his own defilement and unworthiness in the sight of an all-holy G.o.d, as it a.s.sures him of mercy and free forgiveness, of sin blotted out in the blood of Christ. It has a message for the trembling believer, compa.s.sed about with temptations and doubts, as it tells of One who can still be "_touched with the feeling of our infirmities_," and who, because "_He Himself hath suffered being tempted_," is "_able to succour them that are tempted_." And it has a message for the mourner sorrowing over the loss of near and dear ones, for it points to Him who is "_the Resurrection and the Life_" of His people, and gives promise of the "_Father's house_" with its many mansions, where He is preparing a place for His children.

And yet great and glorious though that message is, where there are not a hearing ear, an understanding heart, and a willing mind, even a St Philip or a St Paul may preach in vain. But where, on the other hand, these are present, then G.o.d may use even the humblest and feeblest of His servants to speak some word, to utter some warning, which may be worth to us more than all we have in the world besides. G.o.d grant that it may be so with us, and that by the power of the Holy Ghost the word preached may be welcomed, "not as the word of men, but, as it is in truth, the word of G.o.d, which also worketh in you that believe" (1 Thess. ii. 13).

ANANIAS AND SAPPHIRA

BY REV. GEORGE MILLIGAN, M.A., D.D.

One of the most striking features of the early Christian Church was what we have come to know as Christian Communism, or as the historian describes it in Acts iv, 32: "_And the mult.i.tude of them that believed were of one heart and soul: and not one of them said that aught of the things which he possessed was his own; but they had all things common_." It is a bright and a pleasing picture that is thus presented. Nor is it difficult to understand how such a spirit should arise amongst men whose hearts were full to overflowing with the new Christian graces of brotherhood and peace. For we must not imagine that there was anything compulsory about this communism. It was entirely voluntary, and was due to the eager desire on the part of the wealthier members of the Church to do all that they could for their poorer brethren. In this particular alone, we can at once see how widely it differed from what is generally known as communism or socialism in the present day. The spirit of much at any rate of our present-day socialism--so the distinction has been cleverly drawn--is, "What is thine, is mine": but the spirit of those early believers was rather, "What is mine, is thine."

At the same time, we can readily understand that in a large and mixed community like the early Church, all members would not think exactly alike, and that while many, we may believe most, would cheerfully obey this unwritten law of love, and share and share alike, others would give in to it--if they did give in, for, let me again emphasise, there was no compulsion upon any--more grudgingly and hesitatingly.

Of these two cla.s.ses the writer of the Book of Acts presents us with individual examples--of the former cla.s.s, in the case of Joseph, or Barnabas, a wealthy Cypriot, who "_having a field, sold it, and brought the money, and laid it at the apostles' feet_" (Acts iv. 37)--of the latter, in the case of Ananias with Sapphira his wife, whose melancholy story is now before us.

That story is very familiar, and is often regarded simply as an instance of the sinfulness of lying. And that undoubtedly it is; but it warns us also against other equally dangerous and insidious errors, as a little consideration will, I think, show. For what were Ananias's motives in acting as he did? If we can discover them, we shall have the key to the whole story.

And here, it seems to me, they must, in the first instance at any rate, have been of a sufficiently _generous_ character. Ananias had seen what was going on around him, and he had determined that he must not be behindhand in this ministry of love. But--and now we get a little deeper into his character--_ambition_ to stand well with his fellow-members evidently mingled with the pure spirit of charity: though we do not need to suppose that there was as yet any conscious intention to deceive. Acting, then, on these somewhat mixed motives of charity and ambition, Ananias determined to sell a possession, some farm or other which he had, and hand over the money to the apostles.

He probably meant at first to hand over the whole price, but with the money in his hand, the demon of avarice entered into his heart. And he "_kept back part of the price, his wife also being privy to it, and brought a certain part, and laid it at the apostles' feet. But Peter said, Ananias, why hath Satan filled thy heart to lie to the Holy Ghost, and to keep back part of the price of the land? Whiles it remained, did it not remain thine own? and after it was sold, was it not in thy power? How is it that thou hast conceived this thing in thy heart? thou hast not lied unto men, but unto G.o.d_" (Acts v. 2-4).

The sin of Ananias, then, lay in this, that he gave a certain sum _as if it were the whole_. There was no necessity for his giving either the whole or the part. Had he hung back, when others were selling their possessions, he would have been p.r.o.nounced _ungenerous_ in comparison with them. Had he brought a part, making no mistake about it that it was only a part, when they were giving all, then he would have been not _so generous_. But when he brought a part as if it were the whole, he added to his former selfishness and avarice _deceit and hypocrisy_. If he did not in so many words tell a lie, he did what was equally heinous, he _acted_ a lie.

It is only when we thus clearly realise the enormity of Ananias's sin, that we can understand the reason of the dreadful doom that followed.

"_And Ananias, hearing these words, fell down, and gave up the ghost_"

(ver. 5). The judgment came not from men, but from G.o.d. As it was in G.o.d's sight--the sight of the living and heart-searching G.o.d--that the sin had been committed: so it was by the direct "visitation of G.o.d"

that it was now punished.

Nor was the awful lesson yet over. Three hours had scarcely elapsed since the young men had carried forth her husband, and buried him, when Sapphira, "_not knowing what was done, came in_." "_And Peter answered unto her_"--answered her look of amazement as she regarded the awe-struck faces of those present--"_Tell me, whether ye sold the land for so much_?" "_Yea, for so much_," she replied, adhering to the unholy compact into which, with Ananias, she had entered, and adding deceit in speech to his deceit in act. "_But Peter said unto her, How is it that ye have agreed together to tempt the Spirit of the Lord?

behold, the feet of them which have buried thy husband are at the door, and they shall carry thee out_" (verses 8, 9).

It was the first intimation the unhappy woman had received of Ananias's death: and to the shame of her own consciousness of guilt, must have been added the feeling that she had a certain responsibility in what had befallen him. A word of remonstrance on her part might, at the beginning, have prevented the crime: it was too late now. "_And she fell down immediately at his feet, and gave up the ghost: and the young men came in and found her dead, and they carried her out and buried her by her husband_" (ver. 10). And as the sacred historian again impressively adds, showing how deep was the effect produced: "_And great fear came upon the whole church, and upon all that heard these things_" (ver. 11).

Such is the story. Who does not feel its sadness? All before had been so peaceful and happy. The early believers had presented such a beautiful spectacle of brotherly unity and love. And now, all too soon, the enemy had been at work, sowing tares among the wheat. In the very particular in which the Church most deserved praise--the enthusiasm of its members' charity--sin had appeared. And thus early had the young Church of Christ learned that truth, which it has been the work of nineteen centuries to emphasise, that her true danger comes not so much from without as from within, and that then only is she disgraced, when she disgraces herself.

For what may we learn from this tragic incident?

I.

We learn the sanct.i.ty, the holiness, which Christ looks for in His Church.

The Church of Christ is holy: it consists of those who have separated themselves from the world and its defilements, and who have set themselves apart--body, soul, and spirit--for Christ's service. That, I say, is the Church's ideal. But we know, alas! only too well, how far short the Church on earth falls of that--how much worldliness, and vanity, and ambition--yes, and even grosser sins--mingle with our holy things.

But we must keep G.o.d's ideal ever before us, that ideal which a.s.sures us that G.o.d, by His Spirit, actually dwells in His Church, dwells in the heart of each individual believer. Only when we remember that, can we see how great was Ananias's sin. "_He lied to the Holy Ghost: he lied not unto men, but unto G.o.d_." As by G.o.d's Spirit his heart had been enlightened and opened to the knowledge of the truth: so now against that Spirit he had deliberately sinned.

Such a sin could not pa.s.s unpunished. Had that been allowed, the false impression would have got abroad that G.o.d was easy and tolerant of sin.

Rather it was necessary "that men should be taught once for all, by sudden death treading swiftly on the heels of detected sin, that the gospel, which discovers G.o.d's boundless mercy, has not wiped out the sterner attributes of the Judge."[1]

II.

We learn the reality of the power of Satan.

On this point, Peter's question is very suggestive--"_Why has Satan filled thine heart to lie to the Holy Ghost_?"

There is a constant tendency in those days, which are so impatient of all that is supersensible and wonderful, to try and get rid of the personality of the devil, and to tone down the question of man's salvation to a struggle between two opposing principles within the heart, instead of regarding it, as the Bible teaches us to regard it, as an actual contest for the soul of man between real persons--the Spirit of G.o.d from above, the Spirit of evil from beneath. The heart of man is as it were a little city or fortress on the borderland between two nations at war with each other, and which is liable to be captured by whichever at that point proves itself the strongest. But at the same time with this great difference, that every man has the power of deciding into whose hands he is to fall. His will is free: and he is personally accountable for whom he may choose as master.

For, notice how, in the case before us, St Peter, while tracing the fall of Ananias to the agency of Satan, yet prefixes his question with a _why_: "_Why hath Satan jilted thine heart_?" There had been a time when resistance was still possible. Ananias might have rejected the suggestion of the tempter: he was not bound to yield: but he had yielded. And very suggestive of why he had fallen so low, is that other word "_filled_." It brings before us the quiet, gradual manner in which evil takes possession of the heart of man. We have seen already that it was so in the case of Ananias. _Ambition_ to stand well in the sight of others was his first step: to ambition was afterwards added _avarice_: and then ambition and avarice combined led to _deceit and hypocrisy_. Or, as bringing out the same truth of the gradual progression of sin, notice how Ananias apparently first _thought_ over the sin in his own heart: then _spoke_ of it to his wife, and agreed with her that it could be done: and then how together they _carried it out_. Thought, speech, action: how often are these the successive links by which a man is led on from one degree of sin to another? The lesson is surely to resist at the very outset: so much depends upon the first step. We must not give place to even the first thought of evil: nor listen to the tempter's whisper, whisper he ever so softly. How many, as they look back upon a downward career, can trace its beginning to some idle or vain thought, or to some hasty or careless word!

III.

We learn that a divided service is not possible.

"_No man_!" said our Lord Himself, "_can serve two masters: ye cannot serve G.o.d and mammon_." Not that we are not tempted sometimes to try it. What commoner sin is there amongst professing Christians than the attempt to make the best of both worlds--to lay hold of this world with the one hand, while we give it up with the other--to seem other than we are?

But surely with this old story from the Book of Acts to warn us, we must see how vain all such divided efforts are. We may deceive ourselves or others for a while; but the deception cannot last, and in some hour of searching or of trial our true characters will be laid bare. Let us see to it, then, that we may take this awful example home as a very real and practical warning to ourselves--that we not only "_hate and abhor lying_," but put away from us whatsoever "_maketh a lie_"! and that the prayer continually on our lips and in our hearts is, "From the crafts and a.s.saults of the devil . . . from pride, vain-glory, and hypocrisy, good Lord, deliver us."

[1]Dr Oswald d.y.k.es.