35<\/strong>. Let your loins be girded<\/em> ] Without which active service is impossible in the loose flowing dress of the East (Exo 12:11<\/span>; 1Ki 18:46<\/span>); and spiritually, for the Christian amid worldly entanglements, 1Pe 1:13<\/span>; Eph 6:14<\/span>.<\/p>\n your lights burning<\/em> ] The germ of the Parable of the Ten Virgins, Mat 25:1<\/span><\/p>\n Let your loins … – <\/B>This alludes to the ancient manner of dress. They wore a long flowing robe as their outer garment. See the notes at Mat 5:38-41<\/span>. When they labored, or walked, or ran, it was necessary to gird or tie this up by a sash or girdle about the body, that it might not impede their progress. Hence, to gird up the loins means to be ready, to be active, to be diligent. Compare 2Ki 4:29<\/span>; 2Ki 9:1<\/span>; Jer 1:17<\/span>; Act 12:8<\/span>.<\/P> Your lights burning – <\/B>This expresses the same meaning. Be ready at all times to leave the world and enter into rest, when your Lord shall call you. Let every obstacle be out of the way; let every earthly care be removed, and be prepared to follow him into his rest. Servants were expected to be ready for the coming of their lord. If in the night, they were expected to keep their lights trimmed and burning. When their master was away in attendance on a wedding, as they knew not the hour when he would return, they were to be continually ready. So we, as we know not the hour when God shall call us, should be always ready to die. Compare the notes at Mat 25:1-13<\/span>.<\/P> <\/p>\n Luk 12:35-40<\/span><\/p>\n Men that wait for their Lord<\/em><\/p>\n Of the believers readiness for the coming of Christ<\/strong><\/p>\n This readiness stands in watchfulness and fidelity.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> Its nature. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> Its ground. The servants relation of dependence toward his <\/p>\n Lord. <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> The motive to it. The glorious reward. <\/p>\n 4.<\/strong> The difficulty of it. The long delay. <\/p>\n 5.<\/strong> Its necessity. The uncertainty of the time. <\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> Motives to it. <\/p>\n (1)<\/strong> The confidence reposed in him by the Lord; <\/p>\n (2)<\/strong> who intrusts to him a large sphere of operation; <\/p>\n (3)<\/strong> in which much good may be done. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> Its nature. <\/p>\n (1)<\/strong> That is, deals justly. <\/p>\n (2)<\/strong> And in proper season. <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> Its consequences. <\/p>\n (1)<\/strong> The internal joy of a good conscience. <\/p>\n (2)<\/strong> The Lords approval and recompense. <\/p>\n 4.<\/strong> Exhortation to fidelity from the mournful consequences of the opposite. <\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> Source of faithlessness. Security and unbelief. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> Nature of faithlessness. <\/p>\n (1)<\/strong> Abuse of power. <\/p>\n (2)<\/strong> Ill use of means entrusted to it. <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> Mournful consequences of faithlessness. <\/p>\n (1)<\/strong> He finds himself surprised in his security. <\/p>\n (2)<\/strong> He is severely punished. <\/p>\n (3)<\/strong> And the punishment, whether more lenient or more severe, is perfectly just. (F. G. Lisco.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n Watching for the Master<\/strong><\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> We expect Christs second advent as King and Judge. Or–<\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> We expect our own decease, which will take us into His presence, to give an account of ourselves. <\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> We are His servants. We belong to Him, and are subject to Him; He has given us work to do in His absence–work which should occupy all our time, and engage all our powers. Specifically, there is the work of our own sanctification; and there is the work of Christian beneficence and labour in the world. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> We are left to ourselves for a season. We have it in our power to refuse doing His work. We may use His property and gifts for our own pleasure or profit. We may be indolent, selfish, and sensual, and lull ourselves to sleep and carelessness. <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> But He will return, and call us to account. We expect a day of reckoning. <\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> If found faithful, what joy and honour will be ours! (See Luk 12:37<\/span>.) <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> If found unfaithful, what discomfiture and ruin! (See Luk 12:45<\/span>, &c.) <\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> it is, to live wholly for eternity–for Christ. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> It is, to be prepared for death and judgment every moment. (See Luk 12:35; <\/span>Luk 12:40<\/span>.) <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> It is, to stir up others to the same wakefulness and zeal! (The Congregational Pulpit.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n The nature of Christian watchfulness<\/strong><\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> Alertness. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> Activity. <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> Circumspection. (Van Oosterzee.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n The motive of Christian watchfulness<\/strong><\/p>\n 1<\/strong>.<\/em><\/strong> <\/em>Certainty. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> Suddenness. <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> Decisiveness of the coming of the Lord. (Van Oosterzee.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n What does the Lord demand of His faithful servants?<\/strong><\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> An eye that is open for His light. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> A hand that carries on His work. <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> A foot that is every instant ready to go to meet Him and to open to Him. (Van Oosterzee.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n What does the Lord promise to His faithful servants?<\/strong><\/p>\n 1<\/strong>.<\/em><\/strong> <\/em>Honourable distinction. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> Perfect contentment. <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> Beseeming elevation. (Van Oosterzee.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n Watchfulness in its true character<\/strong><\/p>\n 1<\/strong>.<\/em><\/strong> <\/em>Its inner essence. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> Its blessed consequences. <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> Its indispensable universality. (Arndt.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n Irresistible grace<\/strong><\/p>\n The kind Master<\/strong><\/p>\n First let us glance at the form of the parable. A certain Oriental gentleman, or lord, has gone to the wedding of a friend. The festivities connected with an Eastern marriage were spread over many days, a week at least, sometimes a month. All the friends of the family were expected to put in an appearance, but only a select few remained to the end. The rest might come and go at any hour, on any day, that suited their convenience or pleasure. So that when this Hebrew gentleman went to his friends wedding, his servants could not tell to an hour, or to a watch, or even to a day, when he would return. But, however long he delayed his coming, they kept a keen look-out for him. When night fell, instead of barring up the house and retiring to rest, they girt up their long outer robes, that they might be ready to run out at any instant to greet him; they kindled their lamps, that they might run safely, as well as swiftly, on his errands. They even prepared a table for him; for, though he was coming from a feast, he may have had to ride far and long, and, in any case, a little fruit and a cup of pure water or of generous wine might be very acceptable to him. In this posture, with these preparations, they await his coming. And when he comes, he is so pleased with their fidelity and thoughtfulness that, instead of sitting down to meat or hastening to his couch, he girds up his loins, bids his servants sit down to the very banquet they had prepared for him, and comes forth from his chamber to wait upon them. <\/p>\n Preparation for death<\/strong><\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> Death, you perceive, is here represented as the coming of Jesus Christ. In His capacity of Mediator, He comes at death, to terminate that space for repentance which He has allotted to each individual; He comes to demand an account of our stewardship. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> But out text refers, with peculiar emphasis, to the uncertainty in which we are left, as to the time when our Lord will come. That He will come, we are distinctly and impressively assured: and the time, the place, and the manner of His coming, are all foreknown to Him, and appointed by Him. But they are all unknown to us; the year, the day, the hour are unknown; whether it shall be in the second watch, or in the third watch; whether it shall be in the morning, or in the evening, or at noonday; for in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of Man cometh. <\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> Preparation for death is founded on a belief of the gospel of Christ. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> It includes a devout anticipation of death, and a reference to it amidst the concerns and engagements of life. <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> Preparation for death includes also a holy and habitual perseverance in the service of Jesus Christ. <\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> They are blessed with peace and hops in the prospect and in the act of dying. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> They are blessed with an entrance into heaven immediately after death. (J. Alexander.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n Waiting for the Lord<\/strong><\/p>\n Our dear friend, Mr. James Smith, whom some of you remember as preaching the Word at Park Street, and afterwards at Cheltenham, when I saw him, some little while before his departure, described himself thus: You have seen a passenger that has gone to the station, taken his ticket, all his luggage brought in, all packed up, strapped, directed; and you have seen him sitting with his ticket in his hand, waiting till the train comes up. That, said he, is exactly my condition. I am ready to go as soon as my Heavenly Father pleases to come for me. And is not that how we should always live–waiting for the Lords appearing? Mr. Whitefield used to say, of his well-known order and regularity, I like to go to bed feeling that if I were to die to-night, there is not so much as a pair of my gloves out of their proper place. (C. H. Spurgeon.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n Always ready<\/strong><\/p>\n When war was declared between France and Germany, Count yon Moltke, the strategist, was fully prepared for it. The news was brought to him late one night at Kreisau: he had already gone to bed. Very well, he said to the messenger, the third portfolio on the left, and went to sleep again until morning. (H. O. Mackay.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n Watching is essential<\/strong><\/p>\n A general, after gaining a great victory, was encamping with his army for the night. He ordered watch to be kept all around the camp as usual. One of the sentinels, as he went to his station, grumbled to himself, and said, Why could not the general let us have a quiet nights rest for once, after beating the enemy? Im sure theres nothing to be afraid of. The man then went to his station and stood for some time looking about him. It was a bright night, with a harvest moon, but, as he could see no sign of danger anywhere, he said to himself, I am terribly tired, I shall sleep for just five minutes, out of the moonlight, under the shadow of this tree. So he lay down. Presently he started up, dreaming that some one had pushed a lantern before his eyes, and he found that the moon was shining brightly down on him through the branches of the tree above him. The next minute an arrow whizzed past his ear, and the whole field before him seemed alive with soldiers in dark green coats, who sprang up from the ground, where they had been silently creeping onward, and rushed toward him. Fortunately the arrow had missed him! so he shouted aloud to give the alarm, and ran back to some other sentinels. The army to which he belonged was thus saved, and the soldier said, I shall never forget, as long as I live, that when one is at war, one must watch. (Christian Age.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n Preparation for death<\/strong><\/p>\n The Rev. Dr. Kidd was a Scotch minister of some prominence, and very eccentric, and one who had his own way of doing things. One of his parishioners says: I was busy in my shop, when, in the midst of my work, in stepped the doctor. Did you expect me? was his abrupt inquiry, without even waiting for a salutation. No, was my reply. What if I had been Death? he asked, when at once he stepped out as abruptly as he came, and was gone almost before I knew it. What a question! What a thought for every one of us! Does not Death come to most, if not to all, as unexpectedly as this? And does not the inquiry impress the lesson from our Saviours lips, Be ye also ready; for in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of Man cometh. <\/p>\n Be ready!<\/strong><\/p>\n In the early part of 1875, a young minister, desirous to see the working of the railway signals, points, and telegraph, entered a signal box on a branch line (where the road crossed the metals) for that purpose. The man in charge was most affable, and willing to supplement his limited knowledge of it, by showing him the working of the various branches of trust committed to his charge, as the respective trains came through. Only a few moments elapsed when the sharp ring of the gong attracted both signalman and his visitor to the telegraphic instrument, and the signal Be ready was given for a fast through train. The answer returned, the signal lowered, the points righted, and, like the rushing of a mighty wind, on came the ponderous engine and its train of human life. Fast went that train, but the Be ready flew before it from station to station, preparing for it clear metals and a safe journey. A few days elapsed, and the same train was again due; the Be ready had been received and forwarded; the signals lowered, the points righted; but one of the gates had somehow got unlocked, and hung across the road. The signalman rushed to the gate hoping to fling it back, but was too late. The train dashed on, and the mangled corpse of the poor man told of his sudden exit from this world to the next. Have you not received the Be ready again and again? Look well to your signals, look well to your points, and see that you are <\/em>ready. The Apostle Paul once got the signal Be ready, and his reply was this: I am now ready to be offered up, for the time of my departure is at hand. (Christian Age.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n Waiting and watching<\/strong><\/p>\n Faith without works has no testifying and authenticating fruit. They are the two extremes of the one tree, viz., the root and the fruit; they are the two halves of the one whole–together they make up the complete Christian. In the text, this completeness is brought out and illustrated in a forcible manner, in the three aspects in which our Lord presents the Christian, viz., a servant, a light-bearer, and a watchman. <\/p>\n Sin is darkness, and he lives in a world of sin; a world in which men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil. Error also is darkness. If Christ is in you His light will shine out through you; and if none shines out through you, it will be because there is none in you. Where the light is, there will be the shining. The absence of light proves the absence of Christ; for you cannot cover up His light or smother His beams. The necessity for these lights being ever burning arises from the personal need of the believer himself; and from the necessity of showing forth to others the light and truth which he has found in Jesus. The personal security of the disciple, then, requires that he should let his lights be burning. His spiritual comfort also depends on this. St. John, after declaring that God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all, immediately adds, If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth; but if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another. The holier the life, the brighter the light. The more the light shines for others, the greater is the inner glow of our own hearts, and the greater the outer glory given to God. The absence of light where we expect to find it, often produces most disastrous results. <\/p>\n The lamp of the soul ever burning<\/strong><\/p>\n 1.<\/strong> To the first we would say, yours is a sad case, indeed. You trust in the lamp of a hollow profession to save you in the great, and awful, and searching day of your Lords second coming. You trust to a lamp without oil to light it. If you put confidence in any refuge of lies of this description, what a miserable end yours will be when Christ cometh. The God that seeth not as man seeth, the God that searcheth the hearts and trieth the reins, is to be your Judge, and pronounce your final doom. <\/p>\n 2.<\/strong> To the second class of Christians we would say, guard against all those things that tend to put the lamp out. Every Christian knows what has the influence of deadening the light of the Spirit in his soul, and such a course ought to be strenuously avoided. <\/p>\n 3.<\/strong> To the third class of Christians here designated, let us offer the word of encouragement. Often seated amid nights of terrible darkness, on the rock that is higher than we, on the rock of ages, have you been looking patiently, and in faith, over Times troublous sea, for the glad day of Christs coming to arrive, watching for the day-star to rise. Let your lamps be thus burning, till He comes. It will not be long before He does come. Yet a little while, and He that shall come, will come, and will not tarry. Then your souls vigils will come to an end. (R. Jones, M. 4.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n What do you keep a lantern for?<\/strong><\/p>\n A blind beggar sat by the side-walk on a dark night with a bright lantern by his side. Whereat a passer-by was so puzzled that he had to turn back with–What in the world do you keep a lantern burning for? You cant see! Sot folks wont stumble over me, was the reply. We should keep our lights brightly burning for others sakes, as well as for the good of being in the light ourselves. <\/p>\nFuente: The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges<\/b><\/i><\/h4>\n
Fuente: Albert Barnes’ Notes on the Bible<\/b><\/i><\/h4>\n
I. <\/strong>WATCHFULNESS. <\/p>\n
II. <\/strong>FIDELITY. <\/p>\n
I. <\/strong>CONSIDER OUR EXPECTATION. <\/p>\n
II. <\/strong>OUR PRESENT POSITION. <\/p>\n
III. <\/strong>ITS ISSUES. <\/p>\n
IV. <\/strong>OUR TRUE INTEREST AND DUTY. <\/p>\n
I. <\/strong>THE REPRESENTATION WHICH IS HERE GIVEN OF GODS MODE OF DEALING WITH MEN. He cometh and knocketh. Where? At the door of our hearts. Then the door is by nature closed against God. And this applies equally to all. We allow all that can be asked of us, in regard to a vast difference between man and man; but only with reference to their characters and their conduct as members of society. When we try them by their love to God, by their willingness to submit to Him, by their desire to please Him, we contend that there is no difference whatever, but that all must be equally included under one emphatic description–Enemies in your minds by wicked works. This truth it is which we derive from the words of our text–the truth that the heart of every one amongst us is naturally barred against God, so that though it will be readily opened at the touch of friendship, or the call of distress, yet does it obstinately exclude that Creator and that Benefactor, who alone can fill its mighty capacities. And, if the text thus pourtray to you the natural condition of the human heart, it shows you, with equal accuracy, by what kind of manner Christ tries to gain the entrance which is wickedly denied. We speak not yet of the mode, in which it may be said, that Christ knocks at the door of the heart. We confine ourselves simply to the representation that no kind of violence is employed; there is nothing like forcing the door; but when Christ has knocked, it still rests with man to determine whether he will obey the summons, and let in the guest. You will all admit that there is nothing in the text which looks like what is called IRRESISTIBLE ONCE; nothing to favour the opinion that there is any inteference with the free will of man, in order that he may be compelled or induced to renounce what is evil, and embrace what is good. The representation is purely that of such an appeal to man as man is quite at liberty to withstand. There is a knocking at the door; perhaps a loud knocking, and a continued knocking, but still it is left with man to decide whether he will hear the voice and throw open the door. It is very clear from this, whatever we may hold as to human corruption and disability, that none of us can be excusable in being still unconverted and at enmity with God. If Christ have only knocked (and this can hardly be denied by any who have ever heard the sound of the gospel), the whole blame is chargeable on themselves, if He have not also entered, and taken possession of the heart. And how does Christ knock? We might almost say that He knocks by every object in creation, and by every provision in redemption. Every feature of the landscape, every tree of the forest; every flower of the garden, every joint and every muscle of my frame–all are gifted with the same energy, an energy in proclaiming that there is a Supreme Being, infinite in wisdom and goodness, as well as in might. And through each, therefore, this Being may be justly affirmed to knock at the door of the heart, demanding its love and its allegiance. And there are modes yet more personal than these, in which God may be said to come and knock at the human heart. Does He not often inflict fatherly chastisements–removing objects of deep love, and startling those who were sunk in lethargy, and living as though they had here an abiding city by sudden and distressing dispensations? And if God may be said to knock at the heart by the visitations of His providence, will you not allow the same in regard of all those actings on men, which are especially to be referred to the Second and Third Persons of the Trinity? We are bold to declare of every sermon that you hear, and every chapter which you read, that it knocks at the heart. The written word and the preached word are the exhibitions of what has been done for you by the Lord your Redeemer; and in resisting these, you resist the strongest possible appeal to every charity of the heart, to every susceptibility, to every hope, and to every fear. When Christ is evidently set forth crucified amongst you, the throes of His agony and passion; the instruments of shame and torture, the crown, the nail, the cross, the spear, the indignities endured without resentment, the griefs sustained without a murmur; the contumely poured on the Lord of Glory, the death submitted to by the Lord of Life, and all for us men and for our salvation;–each of these may emphatically be said to rush against the heart, pleading against its indifference, and worldliness, and pride, and soliciting admission for a Saviour who longs to enter it, only that He may purify and bless and fill it with lasting happiness. And to this must be added what must occur to every one of you, that the suggestions of conscience, and the strivings of the Spirit, are means through which Christ often knocks at the heart, and that too, with a violence which will scarcely permit inattention. Who is there of you who will presume to say that he never heard this knocking? <\/p>\n
II. <\/strong>THE PROMISE MADE TO THOSE WHO YIELD TO HIS SOLICITATIONS, We will not insist upon that point of the representation which sets before us Christ as actually ministering–ministering as a servant to such as open when He knocks. We must not give too literal an interpretation to such sayings, though we may certainly understand our blessed Lord as affirming that He will graciously condescend to employ all His power and authority in advancing the honour and happiness of those who hearken to His call. Whilst waiving this, let us consider only the representation of sitting down to meat in association and company with the Lord our Redeemer. It has often been said, and we suppose with much truth, that heaven would be no scene of enjoyment to the wicked if they could be admitted within its gates without having the heart first changed by Divine grace. There cannot be happiness unless our faculties and desires have their counterpart objects. This is only saying that we must have our faculties rectified and receive a new set of desires ere we can possibly find happiness in the occupation and pleasures of the invisible world. And such a remark is specially in place with regard to the promise made by Christ in our text. It is not a promise which can wear much attractiveness to men who are wholly strangers to vital religion. There is not much in it to excite them, because it addresses itself to feelings which they do not yet possess and presupposes desires of which they are not conscious. They may see that the promise refers to close intimacy and rich communion between Christ and the soul, but they are disposed to resolve all such things into idealism and enthusiasm: they cannot profess to understand how they can be, nor if they be real, how they can also be valuable. But let us all add, that if unconverted men find no relish for the blessing to which the promise refers, this alone is sufficient to make them earnest in obeying Christs summons and opening the door. Certainly we do not know a more startling truth if we be impenitent and indifferent, than that heaven would be no heaven to us, even if we could gain entrance within its precincts; and it is going far beyond all ordinary descriptions, whether of mental or corporeal tyranny, to say that there is such a thorough unfitness for every pleasure which has God for its author, such a thorough incapacity for enjoying the blessings which God delighteth to secure to those whom He loves, that they would carry, as it were, hell into heaven, and be unspeakably miserable, even where there is to be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain. That man indeed, must have wretchedness woven up with all the elements of his being, so that he must be his own tormentor, his own accuser, his own executioner, who could be translated from hell to heaven, and find the purities of the heavens a burden with the infirmities of earth. We will not, therefore, hear that there is no stirring motive to the unconverted amongst you in these words of the Saviour–he shall gird himself, and make them to sit down to meat, and will come forth and serve them. That you do not feel their force; that you do not see their beauty; this alone is argument enough why you should labour to fulfil the conditions and open immediately, upon hearing the knocking of Christ. To have no relish for what Christ has to bestow, proves such incapacity for happiness as is more formidable than the mere accumulation of misery. Therefore should the unconverted be as much roused by a promise whose worth they do not feel as by one which should actually address itself to their hopes and their wishes. If the door were to be opened that wealth might pour in, and that carnal pleasure might abound, what alacrity would there be in obeying the summons and withdrawing the bolt I But if the door is to be opened, that the Mediator may enter, and if this seem in no degree an inducement; why, this very fact ought to furnish the strongest possible inducement! for, unless I can learn to be happy in Gods way, how unspeakably wretched must I ever be in my own! But we may well believe that there are others in this assembly who have appreciated the worth of the promise in our text. To such we need not say that there is a communion and intercourse between Christ and the soul, which if not capable of being described to a stranger, is unspeakably precious to those by whom it is experienced. It is no dream of rye enthusiast; it is the statement of soberness and truth. The Redeemer so manifests Himself to those who believe in His name that He communicates to them such a sense of His presence, and brings them into such intimate companionship, that He may be said to enter in and make them sit down to meat. There is what I may venture to call a social and family intercourse; not indeed an intercourse in which the majesty and the dignity of the Mediator are ever forgotten, but nevertheless one which is as cordial and unreserved as it is actual, the soul opening all her capacities that she may be filled with all the fulness of the Saviour, and the Saviour deigning to impart himself in His various offices. (H. Melvill, B. D.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
I. <\/strong>THE WATCHFULNESS OF THE SERVANTS. As they waited for the coming of their master, so are we to wait for the coming of ours. If we take the great promise of the New Testament–the second advent of Christ–if we divest it of all mere accidents of form and date, and reduce it to its most simple and general terms, what does it come to? It comes at least to this: that, somewhere in the future, there is to be a better world than this–a world more wisely and happily ordered, a world in which all that is now wrong will be righted, a world of perfect beauty and growing righteousness; in a word, a world in which He who once suffered for and with all men will really reign in and over all men, His spirit dwelling in them, and raising them towards the true ideal of manhood. And is not that a reasonable hope? Does it not make a vital difference to us whether or not we entertain it? If in this world only we have hope, we are of all creatures most miserable. If the tragedy of human life be pregnant with no Divine purpose, if there be no better time coming, no golden age of righteousness and peace–if, in short, we can no longer believe in the advent and reign of Christ, then surely every thoughtful spectator of this vast tragedy must say, It were better for men that they had never been born! But if we believe in this great promise, if we cherish this great hope, then can we with patience wait for it. And this is the very posture which our Lord here enjoins. <\/p>\n
II. <\/strong>THE FRIENDLY AND BOUNTIFUL KINDNESS OF THE MASTER. Whatever we have done for God, He will do for us; when He reckons with us, we shall receive our own again, and receive it with usury. It is but a metaphorical expression of that great law of retribution which pervades the whole Bible, but the happier face of which we are too apt to overlook–that whatever a man sows, that shall he also reap, that, <\/em>and all that has come of it. The Divine reward will be at once equitable and bountiful. If in this present life we have shown some capacity for serving God in serving our fellows, we may be sure that in the life to come we shall receive the harvest of our service; we may be sure that God will do for us all that we have done for Him, and a great deal more. But what, after all, is the best part of a mans reward for a faithful and diligent use of any faculty here? It is that his faculty, whatever it may be, is invigorated, developed, refined by use. If, then, I have here used my faculty and opportunity for serving God in serving my fellows, I may hope and believe that hereafter my best reward will be an enlarged faculty of service and ampler opportunities for exercising it. If I love righteousness here, and pursue it, I find all righteous men and influences on my side, and so get my reward; but my best reward is that I myself am ever growing in righteousness, in the power of teaching and serving it. (S. Cox, D. D.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
I. <\/strong>THE DESCRIPTION OF DEATH WHICH CHRIST HERE GIVES. <\/p>\n
II. <\/strong>THE PREPARATION FOR NEATH WHICH CHRIST ENJOINS. <\/p>\n
III. <\/strong>THE BLESSEDNESS WHICH CHRIST HERE ENSURES TO THOSE WHO DIE IN THIS STATE OF PREPARATION. <\/p>\n
I. <\/strong>In the first direction which our Lord gives, Let your loins be girded about, we have before us the picture of A SERVANT GIRDED FOR DUTY. I need not tell you what the position and duties of a servant are; how it is expected of him that he should know his place, and humbly and faithfully discharge the duties of his station. He should, if possible, identify himself with his masters interest, and conduct himself in a manner which will sustain his masters honour. The servant of Christ has the noblest of all masters–the holiest of all services–the most honourable of all positions. The servant of a king ever bears about him the reflected honour of the king, and the amount of this honour is in proportion to his nearness or remoteness to the throne. So the servant of the King of kings borrows dignity from the Being whom he serves. He wears no outward insignia of that dignity, as earthly courtiers do in stars or ribbons; but it is a glory which reflects itself in his daily life, and evidences his relation to Jesus by the fidelity and zeal which he shows in His service. The fact that what he does, he does for Christ, lifts it out of the plane of menial duty, and places it in the higher region of holy privilege. Such a service ought to call out prompt obedience, loving devotion, unwearied effort, and thorough sympathy with the aim and purpose of God in the work of mans salvation. <\/p>\n
II. <\/strong>But, secondly, the text tells us that the Christian is to BE A LIGHTBEARER as well as a servant. Not only must his loins be girded, but his lights must be burning, The Christian lives in the midst of moral darkness. <\/p>\n
III. <\/strong>Lastly, the text tells us that the Christian is to be a WATCHMAN: and ye yourselves like unto men that wait for their Lord, The watchman-like character of the Christian is to show itself in two ways. First, by watching over himself; and secondly, by waiting for his returning Lord. Over himself he must watch, lest he become careless in duty, remiss in keeping his light burning, and be overtaken with drowsiness and indifference. Self-watchfulness is the necessary pre-requisite to spiritual peace and growth. Only the self-confident and the self-ignorant are unwatchful; and the unwatchful always become an easy prey to the spoiler. All that the great deceiver asks of us is; not that we should openly abandon our religion, but simply ungird our loins–let our light go out and cease to watch. He will finish the work which we thus by carelessness and unwatchfulness begin. In addition to this self-watchfulness there is the other position to be taken, viz., waiting for our returning Lord. This may imply that outlook which all true Christians like to take in reference to the Second Advent of Christ, when He shall come again to judge the world. (Bishop Stevens.<\/em>)<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
I. <\/strong>CONSIDER THE EMPTY, UNTRIMMED LAMP AS THE EMBLEM OF THE NOMINAL PROFESSOR. A lamp is a very serviceable thing, serviceable for lighting our stormy coast, and guarding against shipwrecks; serviceable for lighting our homes; but it is of little service unless it is trimmed, and unless it has oil in it. Now a hollow professor is like a lamp of this kind, a lamp with no oil in it, that cannot be lighted when you want it; as useless, though more dangerous. He lets not the lamp of his profession shine before men with the light of practice, with the light of good works, because the lamp of his profession is destitute of the oil of Divine grace. The oil is the emblem of Divine grace in the Christian profession. And as it is impossible to light a lamp without first putting oil into it; so is it impossible for a hollow professor to shed around on this dark world the beautiful and refreshing light of good works, unless, first, the oil of Divine grace is poured into the empty receptacle of his unconverted heart, by the unseen hand of the Holy Spirit. <\/p>\n
II. <\/strong>CONSIDER THE LAMP, WITH OIL IN IT, RUT NOT LIGHTED, AS AN EMBLEM OF THE TRUE CHRISTIAN, BUT NOT EXACTLY SO WELL PREPARED FOR THE SECOND COMING OF THE SON OF MAN AT AN HOUR UNEXPECTED. It is an easy thing for the lamp of the Christian to grow dim, or to go out. If the Christian is not watchful, the slightest blast from the insidious temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil, will blow his lamp out. Want of prayer, irregularity in prayer, coldness in prayer, will put the Christians lamp out, or make it burn very dull. Neglect of the Scriptures, neglect either in not searching them, or in searching them in a self-righteous and careless spirit, will extinguish the bright light of the lamp. Or irregularity, or formality, in attending the Sacrament, and the other Divinely appointed means of grace, will cause the lamp to emit a dim and unhealthy light. Yielding to the besetting sin will put the lamp out; yielding to any wilful sin will put the lamp out. Remissness in self-examination will put the lamp out. Want of zeal for Christ will put the lamp out. Want of faith in Christ will put the lamp out. Want of hope in Christ will put the lamp out. Want of love for Christ will put the lamp out. Want of an abounding stedfastness in the work of the Lord, will put the lamp out. <\/p>\n
III. <\/strong>CONSIDER THE LAMP BURNING, AS AN EMBLEM OF DUE PREPARATION FOR CHRISTS SUDDEN COMING. Brethren, it is a hard thing in a world like this, and with an old evil nature that clings to the new man, for the Christian to keep his lamp burning. There are few Christians, indeed, whom sudden death has found, or the second advent will find, not only with lamps, and the oil in the lamps, but the lamps themselves burning. Sudden death, sudden glory, has been the noble motto of a very distinguished minority, and death has not had power to make them retract. Absent from the body, present with the Lord; so said St. Paul in life, and so he felt in death. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly, are among the last glorious words on record of St. John. They shed a burning and shining light upon this dark world of sin and woe to the very last. Their whole eventful lives were spent in being good, or doing good. To them to live is Christ, to die is gain. When their lamps grow dull, and seem threatening to go out, they immediately brighten them up, and make them burn again, by betaking themselves to the throne of grace. <\/p>\n
IV. <\/strong>To each of these three classes of Christians, denoted by the lamp, WE WOULD OFFER A WORD OF EXHORTATION BY WAY OF WARNING OR ENCOURAGEMENT. <\/p>\n