From the Epistle.
[1]—“How, then, shall they call
on Him in Whom they have not
believed?—and, How shall they believe in Him of Whom they
have not heard?—and, How shall they hear without a
preacher?—and, How shall they preach except they be SENT?”—Romans x. 14.
At this season of preparation for
the Advent, the Apostolical Ministry
is one of the subjects especially brought before us by the Church, as doubtless peculiarly calculated
to fit our minds for the right reception and reverent
contemplation of our Saviour’s
first and second Coming. It would be needless to enlarge on
the suitability of the Epistle selected for this Introductory
Festival, opening and leading the way, as it does, to those of
the whole “glorious company of the Apostles.” We can scarcely read the passage
now quoted, without recognizing at once much of its
appropriateness. It contains a brief vindication both of
the moral necessity and the Divine authority of the Christian
Ministry; and so plainly, that, to some extent, all must perceive
it. But it may be highly profitable to us to draw out and
examine with attention the subject, which St. Paul thus lays
before us in epitome only; concerning which we know that there is
much diversity of thinking among professing Christians, and,
consequently, great danger of wrong thinking.
It is too much the practice of modern theologians to refer to
the New Testament, almost as if it were a book of aphorisms; and
so, when a quotation is made therefrom, it seems to be inquired,
what meaning it will bear; or what use can be made
of it; rather than, what meaning it must have had in such
a connection; or what use must have been intended, under
such circumstances. And hence has resulted this fatal
consequence, that the apostolic writings are commonly interpreted
by modern opinions, instead of modern opinions being tested by
the apostolic writings. There is but too painful evidence
of this, in the manner in which some men set about
“proving” their peculiar system by the
Scriptures; evidently assuming from the first that their system
is right, and so (unconsciously, we trust,) sorting and
arranging the “best texts” to establish it.
Surely an attempt to treat any other ancient book as the Holy
Scriptures are thus treated, would not be borne with.
Suppose, for example, any disciple of the schools of the modern
scepticism should attempt to show, from selected passages of some
leading treatise of ancient philosophy, that his own opinions
precisely coincided with those of the sage from whom he was
quoting; it is evident that he would hereby deceive no one but
himself. On a reference to the treatise in question, it
would be at once apparent, that it was written by one who held
opinions widely different from the modern. Now since, among
Christians, there is an universal appeal to the Scriptures, would
it not be a rational method of testing the opinions of any of the
various classes among us, to inquire, whether it is likely that
such writings would have proceeded from the pens of men
holding such and such opinions? Might we not thus arrive at
as sure a conclusion, notwithstanding all arguments from texts
and passages, that some nominally Christian opinions now
received, were not the opinions of the sacred writers—as
that the opinions of Locke were not the opinions of the ancient
Epicureans, notwithstanding the coincidences that might be
found? And if it should be seen that any class of opinions
exactly harmonizes with the literal writings of the Apostles, so
that we may imagine the men who held them to have naturally
written what the Apostles wrote; then, should we not have a
highly probable argument for the Scriptural character of those
opinions? Such an argument will in some degree pervade
these Lectures.
Few, perhaps, will fail to perceive some wide difference
between that state of mind which is implied by our popular
Christianity, and that which is implied by the Apostolic
Epistles. The complete unworldliness, the quiet, elevated
self-denial, the earnest humility, the obedience on the one hand
and authority on the other, which are the evident characteristics
of practical Christianity as it appears in the inspired records,
are strikingly different from all which we see now in our popular
religion; and may at times well suggest the fear that we may have
lost much of that faith which the first Christians
possessed. And in no particular is this difference more
remarkably seen, than in the language held respecting the Ministry of the Church; which from its undeniable importance
deserves no light consideration. Of course it may be said, that much of
the difference of tone respecting the Ministry may be ascribed to
the “cessation of apostolic authority strictly so
called.” But however this be, which we pass for the
present, it is apparent to all, that there is a
difference: and so, men attempt to “account for the
fact,” rather than deny it. To account, for example,
for the “magnified importance” plainly attributed in
Holy Scripture to the living voice of an Apostolic Ministry, above and beyond, and
often without reference to other means of Christian
instruction. Not only the plea just mentioned, but other
similar ones are urged, as the “change of
circumstances,” the “alteration in the times,”
and the like, to account for the fact. How dangerous all
such arguments and evasions are, to those who seek a religion
exactly, or as nearly as possible, such as the first Christians
had, needs scarcely to be urged on any thoughtful mind. For
after all these suppositions and reasonings, it will still remain
very possible that The Ministry first
Divinely set up in the Church, was
not intended essentially to change with the changing
circumstances of this world; very possible that this might have
been given as one permanent if not paramount means of grace for
mankind, notwithstanding the subsequent introduction of other
means, however efficacious and invaluable. And then, the
actually existing ministry, its historical continuity, its
unconcealed pretensions, are facts not to be lightly set aside
when viewed in connection with this possibility only; even if it
were nothing more. How much of Apostolical grace is lost
from the ministry, it may be impossible to say; but so also it
would be equally impossible to say how much is retained.
Hence, it must ever remain the safest course for a
Christian man to adhere to an Apostolically descended
Ministry. Let us not pass too hastily from these thoughts;
let us follow them out, into minuter detail; in order to enter
into the state of mind apparently implied by language such as
that in the passage, for instance, which constitutes our
text.
Does it not here seem, by St. Paul’s way of putting his
questions, leaving them, as it were, to answer themselves in
every Christian mind, that they could in his esteem admit of only
one answer? That they must conduct people to the inevitable
conclusion of the necessity of a Living
Ministry? Modern Christianity would easily find
other replies; and does so practically. But is there
no danger in such a course? No danger in thus
assuming the sufficiency of what may be termed literary
methods of Christian instruction? nevertheless it is certain, that very
often it is assumed. “How shall they believe
in Him of whom they have not
heard?” “By reading the Bible and
judging for themselves,” would be the reply of modern
Christianity. “How shall they hear without a
preacher?” asks the Apostle. And modern believers
might truly reply, “We do not see the difficulty—Have
we not our Bibles in our hands?” “How shall
they preach except they be SENT?” is the inquiry of St.
Paul. And, “surely every man who understands his
Bible may teach it to another,” might be the ready modern
reply. To the Apostle’s mind, on the contrary, such
questions seemed to carry with them their own unavoidable
answers, establishing beyond controversy the necessity of an
authoritative publishing of the truth by living teachers, and
those duly sent
(αποσταλωσι):
nor does the Spirit of inspiration (to
whom every future change was known) here give any hint of the
future change of this system of teaching.
But further: what St. Paul meant by being “sent,”
or “apostolically commissioned,” as well as the high
importance which he attached to it, may be gathered from the
extreme anxiety with which, at the opening of his Epistles to the
Churches, he repeats, and dwells on, the fact of his own
apostolical character; which is so conspicuous, that the want of
such a preface has sometimes been urged as an argument against
his authorship of the Epistle to the Hebrews. [8] “Paul an Apostle of Jesus
Christ;” “Paul CALLED to be an Apostle, separated unto
the Gospel of God;” “Paul
an Apostle not of men, neither by
man,” but “by the will of God.” Such are the beginnings of
his Epistles. Nor was such an anxiety at all unnatural in
him; because his apostolical character was not so regularly
derived as that of others, and had been greatly disputed in some
churches, and so needed constant vindication: of which the
Apostle seemed to be well aware. But, on modern principles,
this self-vindicating anxiety is quite unintelligible. It
never could have been manifested by St. Paul, if he had only
thought, “that every man has a right to be a Christian
teacher, whether he has a mission or not, provided he is
persuaded of his own ability, and can persuade others of it
too.” To one unacquainted with this notion, there
certainly would seem to be some powerful difficulty (which others
would not see) in this question, “How shall they preach
except they be SENT?” And
therefore in the next chapter to this which contains these
questionings, St. Paul again glances at this topic, and says,
“Inasmuch as I am the Apostle (the SENT one) of the Gentiles, I magnify mine
OFFICE.” Now, as we
have said, it is very easy to reply to all this, that St.
Paul’s circumstances were different, and that that will
account for the difference of his feelings and language.
For even granting this, is it either consistent with a cautious
reason, or a Christian humility, to assume in this way, that we
are right in differing from St. Paul, provided we can
“account for the difference?” Or, supposing
that our altered times do account for the difference (as in some
sense they do), does it follow that they justify it?
Perhaps we may “account for” most of man’s
transgressions against God’s
law, but does that justify them? But let us keep to
the case before us. How can we be so sure, that if in the
apostolic days the common people had possessed Bibles, and were
able to read them, and, in a word, were outwardly circumstanced
in all respects as we are, then St. Paul’s principles, and
St. Paul’s exhortations, would have been such as ours now
are? Have we any right to say, without proof, that St. Paul
assigned such an importance to the teaching of a living ministry,
solely because Bibles were not plentiful?
Might there not have been other reasons? Consider: is it
not very conceivable that there might have been that in
Christianity which could only be perfectly conveyed by an
institution such as the living ministry?—and which,
therefore, without that ministry, would not be attained, even
though men possessed every other means? Now, without saying
that it is so, and not insisting on the probability of it
(arising from the analogy [10] of God’s past
dealings with mankind, and from the very nature of our social
condition), it is enough to affirm, that it is very
possible, very conceivable, that an apostolical ministry
might have been made by God the
perpetual channel of a grace to man, which might be conveyed in
no other way. And the possibility of this ought for ever to
restrain us from the rash conclusion, that Christian blessings
may be sufficiently attained by private reading of the
Bible.—If any are inclined to such a conclusion, by the
consideration that possibly the apostolic ministry had a
miraculous blessing which no ministry had after the
Apostles’ age; so that language well suited to the first
generation of the Christian ministers, may not be suitable now;
it might be answer enough to point out, that such a supposition
remains to be substantiated, and that it must be hazardous to
take up with a theory which incurs the risk of realizing on
principle only a defective Christianity. But more than
this may be briefly added, viz.: That as miraculous power was no
peculiarly apostolical prerogative (for all ranks of Christians
had possessed it), so neither can the want of it argue a
deficiency in apostolic grace and ministration; That the Apostles
associated with themselves Timotheus, Silvanus, Epaphroditus [11] and others, as possessing the same
Ministry with themselves, though no
miraculous gift; and, That if the same ministry be not to
continue for ever in the church, then it would follow that
“Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the
world,” has not been literally fulfilled; That the words of
Scripture which relate to the Church’s Ministry, must not
be understood by us as they certainly were by the first
Christians, and, consequently, the plain sense of the Bible is
not our guide, as it was theirs so far as they possessed
it. And so, finally, our Christianity may be proved at last
to come short of the standard of Scripture, and be fatally
different in some important points from that which was originally
given to the world.
Nothing
which has now been said is intended to call in question the
reality of those blessings which God
may and sometimes does bestow apart from His appointed means, or
by some only of those means apart from the rest. But enough
has surely been said to admonish men against that easy and
off-hand way of getting rid of those texts which imply high
apostolic power, by saying, that such passages only suit the
primitive days and the Apostles’ own ministry. On the
other hand, we would not pretend to decide how large an amount of
favour may be vouchsafed to those who have not the blessings of a
true priesthood. Cornelius, we know, was a just man, and
largely acceptable unto God, before he
saw St. Peter, or received Christian baptism. Some, again,
of the earliest disciples had embraced the truth in some degree,
before they had heard “whether there was any Holy Ghost,” or had been baptized in
the name of Jesus. And when the
Philippian Church was deprived of the ministry of St. Paul, they
were still admonished to rely on God’s in-dwelling Spirit in the Church, and “much more
in the Apostle’s absence to work out their own
salvation.” God may
dispense with His own appointed means, and may supply the lack of
them; but man cannot. But if it were right to compare, or
contrast, one of God’s given
means of grace with another, it might perhaps appear that none of
them are so essential as the Church’s Ministry, whereby all the rest seem to have
been instrumentally preserved. Much which we are too apt
think exclusively essential to the existence of Christian truth
and purity, had no being in the early Church. It is likely
that all essential means of edification would be given to the
first generation of believers; and, in fact, was not the most
exalted Christian grace possessed in the Church previous to the
Christian Scriptures? Whoever will reflect on these points,
will at least be prepared seriously to consider, what in
primitive days was understood by the ministerial mission to
teach,—what the meaning of St. Paul was in such terms as he
applied to the ministers of Christ?
(as that they were the “sent” servants,
“stewards of mysteries,” “ALLOWED of God
and PUT IN TRUST with the
Gospel,”) and whether that may not be the true Christian
meaning still?—whether, notwithstanding the altered times,
there may not be as much meaning now as there ever was in the
question, “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”
Here it may be rejoined, that there
are many who acknowledge the necessity of a Ministry in the Church, and who allow that it ought, in all
main particulars, to resemble that of the primitive Christians;
nay, who notoriously assign a very high value to such a ministry,
as a peculiar means of grace having a peculiar promise of
blessing annexed to it, and yet do not acquiesce in the Catholic
doctrine concerning it. And would it not be an unfairness
to charge such with setting-aside the apostolic ministry? or too
little esteeming it? Doubtless, it might be. But yet
this rather anomalous circumstance, that men who are generally
supposed to be somewhat lax, at least, respecting the subject of
an authoritative ministry, should also be often thought to give
undue prominence to “the Sermon” of a minister, even
beyond other means of grace; this, I say, only renders it the
more important that we should understand clearly what men mean by
a “ministry” in the Church,—what they consider
its real powers and chief functions,—and what its special
grace and blessing? For it can hardly be questioned, that
many think that they believe in a Christian ministry, when they
are only believing in a particular minister;—think that
they are believing in a MINISTRY,
when they are only believing in eloquence. Many make free
use of words, when they would shrink from the ideas which they
naturally convey; and ascribe a degree of blessing to a ministry,
which in strictness of speech they would never think of seriously
attributing to any such cause. And it cannot serve the interests
of truth to smooth over really different opinions, by generalized
expressions, just “for the sake of peace.” The
truth is, there is the greatest possible vagueness of belief, or
rather opinion, respecting the Christian Ministry, in our times
and country especially. There is, perhaps very generally,
an indistinct impression, that something is required to
make a man “a minister of the Gospel;” but what it
is, very few would be ready to say: and this may be well looked
on as a sort of instinctive testimony of the human mind to the
felt truth, “that it is not lawful for any man,” on
the mere suggestion of his own thoughts, to stand forth as a
teacher of religion. Common sense seems thus to make the
inquiry, “How shall they preach except they be SENT?”
It is felt universally, that a teacher of religion should have
some credentials. The most illiterate, indeed, will often
take the word of any man of outwardly respectable appearance, who
can manage, with the mixture of a few Scripture phrases, to talk
in an incomprehensible way, and look upon him directly as a
“minister.” The extent of this implicit faith
among some classes of sectaries is almost incredible to those who
have not personally witnessed it. But yet even these will
clothe their ministers with spiritual powers; and believe
their ministrations to convey a grace, and to possess a primitive
and apostolical value, such as those very
“ministers,” if pressed, would formally disown.
Hence many persons of these sects are violently shocked, when we
deny the validity of their sacraments as the sure channels of
God’s grace; little thinking that their own ministers do
not suppose them to be so. And so also the multitude
of sects which flourished in this country during the time of the
Great Rebellion, owed much of their success to their unscrupulous
assertions of a “divine mission;” persuading the
people that theirs was the “discipline of Christ;” and alleging a “divine
right” for every part of it. And yet, notwithstanding
this feeling planted in our very nature, that a spiritual
ministry must have a spiritual origin, it is astonishing to see
the facility with which almost any professed teacher is
received. Just as mere ignorance inclines the most
illiterate, so the better classes are induced, by indolence or
habit, to receive almost any man as a religious instructor.
“How their minister became a minister?” is a
question which seems hardly to have occurred to the majority of
people. If a man has only ability enough to obtain a
congregation and a chapel, and especially if he assumes the
outward appearance and style of a clergyman, and is thought a “respectable man,” nothing more is generally
inquired. But can this satisfy any one who thinks
seriously? The Bible describes the Christian Minister in a
very solemn way, as the “Savour of life or death” to
souls—as being an earthly vessel possessed of a
“Heavenly TREASURE,”
the weight whereof he was not sufficient to bear! and so, to the
first Minister of the Church it was said, “What thou
shalt bind on earth shall be bound in
heaven;”—Whatever this mysterious language implies,
are we to take a man to be all this on his own bare word? or on
the ground of his personal talents or sincerity?—Or can the
people’s support of any man endow him with these awful
prerogatives of a Divine Ministry? Can a congregation,
however numerous, give what they themselves possess not?
Holy Scripture classes together Christ’s own Mission from His Father; and the Apostles’ Mission from Christ. Even the Son of God
“glorified not Himself” to be made an High
Priest. He began not His
ministry till He was divinely pointed out at His baptism, and
from that time Jesus began to
“preach and to teach.” Even He confessed,
“As the Father hath SENT ME,” and, as “the Father hath given Me commandment,” even “so I
do.” And His blessed Apostle said, “God was in Christ
reconciling the world unto Himself, . . . and hath COMMITTED unto us the ministry of
reconciliation;” and when the same Apostle was “about
to be offered,” and the “time of his departure was at
hand,” he said, “This charge I COMMIT unto thee, son Timothy;” and
further, “the same COMMIT
thou to faithful men,” who shall TEACH others also. Indeed every
Scripture precedent is against the notion so wholly inconsistent
with the idea of a “commission,” that a man may teach
in the name of God, without God’s authority so to do. Surely
the words of Scripture mean something.
“Pastors,” “stewards of mysteries,”
“overseers,” “embassadors,”—those
“in Christ’s stead,”
those “speaking in the person of Christ,” those whom the Churches were
commanded to “obey” as “watchers for
souls,” and “accountable.”—Those who were
received as “angels of God,” even “as Jesus Christ;” “workers together
with God,” “angels of the
Churches,” “stars in Christ’s right hand!” Are
these the descriptions of an earthly dignity wherewith a man of
ability may clothe himself? Do they mean less than they
say?—or rather do they not powerfully point the question,
“How shall men preach except they be SENT?”
But notwithstanding the vagueness of the popular creed, it is
not to be denied, that those who think attentively about religion
and read their Bible with care, and yet embrace sectarian views,
have some way of explaining all these, and similar expressions,
so as to bring them, in some degree, into conformity with their
particular views. Doubtless some sort of explanation would
be necessary to give a measure of consistency to their
systems. And into the examination of their manifold systems
it would be impossible now to enter. Nor is it necessary;
it is enough to point out the fundamental error, of having a
system, and then “explaining” texts down to that
system. And this perhaps may be sufficiently done by
glancing chiefly at two classes of the most received theories,
with a view of showing that they alike proceed on a common
principle, and that (in consequence) instead of taking the words
of Scripture as they plainly stand, and accepting them as the
Church does, in their full natural meaning, they are obliged to
“explain.” Such, indeed, we have already said
to be our running argument. “Would the sectarians, or
would Catholics, have been more likely to employ naturally such
and such words?” And more than this we can scarcely
attempt on this occasion. Indeed a formal confutation of
many such systems as we are now alluding to, would be almost
impossible. There is something so indeterminate about them,
that there
is no tangible point of attack. The bare denial of an
Apostolically descended Ministry is, frequently, all that can be
obtained from our opponents. And where we are not presented
with this sort of vacuity of belief, we still meet with nothing
more than some thin theory of a possible ministration,
whereby a straining ingenuity attempts to harmonize its own
opinions with the facts and statements of Scripture; as if we
were set to inquire—what may be, or might be
a system of religious teaching? and not rather, what was from the
beginning?
One theory of a Christian ministry maintained, with more or
less of distinctness, by very many, is, that none are rightly
“sent,” or commissioned to teach Christ’s religion, unless they have
what is termed an “inward call.” Now, if they
mean by this, that every minister of Christ ought to be inwardly impressed with
the importance of his calling, no one will question it: but they
must mean more than this, or their meaning amounts to
nothing. Their idea seems to be, that no man has a right to
become a “minister,” who has not some overpowering
personal conviction of his spiritual destination to the
ministerial office, and that this is a sufficient evidence of a
true “call” to the office; and in conformity with this notion
they explain every text. Now if any one imagines that he
has such evidence of a call within him, it is useless to reason
with him. He is clearly beyond that. If he can so
persuade himself, he may also persuade himself that all Scripture
is on his side; or any thing else. Few, indeed, will be
disposed to envy the venturous self-confidence of one who could
thus stand forth (with eternity before him) and on his own sole
authority profess, “I am an embassador for Christ!”—“I am a
‘savour of eternal life and death!’” Not
to dwell, too, on the opening thus given to fanaticism of every
kind, it is certain also that a man’s personal conviction
can be no evidence to others; and yet others are interested in
the matter. How far his apparent religious success may be
so, is another question, which had better be separately examined,
and which we shall hereafter consider. But, it is plain, as
we have said, and again insist, that a man’s personal
conviction alone is no sufficient proof for others that he
is “sent” to preach Christianity. The Apostolic
Epistles, every where, imply as St. Paul does in his question to
the Roman Church, that the being “sent” was a matter
which other men could judge of. It is certain, too, that
the Apostles had something more at least than an
“inward call.” They were, according to the
Scriptures, outwardly called, from the very first, by Christ Himself. And St. Paul, the only
one who was not so, was outwardly called, afterwards, by an
express miracle. So that the Bible, and Apostolic example,
are alike against the notion of the sufficiency of an inward
call. And here it may be collaterally remarked, that, least
of all men, can the members of our Church admit this, at the best
inadequate, doctrine; for the 23rd Article is emphatically
against it. It reads thus:—“It is not lawful
for any man to take upon him the office of public preaching, or
ministering the Sacraments in the congregation, before he be
lawfully called and SENT to execute
the same. And those we ought to judge lawfully called and
sent, which be chosen and called to this work by men who have
public authority given unto them in the congregation, to call and
send ministers into the Lord’s
vineyard.” Above all, therefore, the man who holds
this doctrine of our Church will see a force which the advocates
of the inward call cannot understand in St. Paul’s
question, “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”
But another notion concerning the Ministry, practically
entertained to a very wide extent is, That the Government of a
country has the prerogative of making Ministers of Religion. That
this revolting opinion could possibly prevail in a Christian
land, is, perhaps, one of the most fearful proofs which could be
brought of Pagan ignorance, among nominal believers. And
yet, under various modifications, it prevails to an extent
scarcely credible. What but this is implied in the
expression which we often hear even educated people make use of,
“that the State makes Bishops?” What but this
is implied in our quiet acquiescence in the notion, that an act
of the State may abolish some of our bishopricks? What but
this is the ordinary practical interpretation of the phrase,
“the Church as by law established?” which sometimes
is even cast at us as an acknowledgment that our Church’s
origin is an Act of Parliament. Is it not true, that many
have no other idea of a clergyman, than that he may be better
educated, perhaps, than some other teachers, and so is
“patronized by the State?” And, is this the
idea of a minister of Christ which the
Bible would give? Is it a doctrine of the first Christians,
that men, simply because they are governors, and happen to have
civil power, may clothe their fellow men with the awful
prerogatives of a Spiritual Mission? Is it a doctrine of
the Church of England—when our Article expressly denies to
kings all spiritual authority—and when Queen Elizabeth allowed the
oath of supremacy to be taken, with an accompanying declaration
to that effect?—It is easy, of course, to construct a
theoretical argument to prove, “That the governor of a
State is bound to provide religious instruction for the
people,”—but certainly such an argument will not
prove that the civil governor can give to any man a spiritual
AUTHORITY. It can only prove,
that it is his duty to seek for a rightly authorized and
commissioned instructor, and give him the additional
worldly advantage of a legal sanction and defence. It may
be, that governors should look for and find a religious
teacher for the people—but they cannot make
one. Governors must be instructed and saved by the same
heavenly means as the people; and neither can rightfully
intermeddle with the administration of Divine things. On
the leprous forehead of King Uzziah we may read the presumption
of those who will so invade the sacred office. (2 Chron. xxvi.
19.) But it would be impossible to draw out more minutely
in this place [24] the arguments either for or against the
Erastian theory; and we are chiefly concerned to show that it is
wholly inconsistent with Scriptural and Primitive doctrine,
which taught, that men should “give unto Cæsar the
things that are Cæsar’s; but unto God alone the things which are God’s.” The argument which
we would, again and again urge, is, Whether the notion of the
State commissioning the religious instructor is in harmony with
the language of the New Testament? Does not the Christian
mind at once revolt from the thought, That a ruler of this world
can commission any as embassadors of the world’s Saviour? That the government of any
country can by their state-licence empower a man to “bless
in the name of the Lord?”—to be a
“steward” of Holy mysteries?—to absolve
penitents,—and “deliver to Satan” the
ungodly? Such was the Minister of Christ according to Primitive belief and
Scriptural statement; acting “in the person of Christ,” and marking with holy
indignation any who refused to “follow” in his
steps. He “fed the flock of God,” took “the oversight of
them,” and “stirred up the gift that was within
him” by the laying on of hands. These are the very
words of Scripture, and they, surely, never would have been
thought of, never could have been naturally used by the inspired
writers, if they had entertained the thought, that the State
could make a man a Christian Minister.
And such a thought certainly was not entertained by the
Christians of the first 300 years, any more than by the Apostles;
who were not even countenanced by governors, but in things
spiritual “resisted unto blood,” and were charged
with “turning the world upside down,” rather than
submit to men in aught that pertained unto God. Even as late as the fourth
century, the great president of the Nicene Council thus declared
to the Emperor the Christian doctrine: [26a] “God
has put dominion into your hands. To us He hath entrusted
the government of the Church; and as a traitor to you is a rebel
to the God who ordained you, so be
afraid on your part, lest usurping ecclesiastical power you
become guilty of a great sin.” And again:
“Meddle not with Church matters; far from advising us about
them, rather seek instruction from us.”
“Remember that you are a man.” “Fear the
day of Judgment.” And nothing can be plainer than the
language addressed by St. Hilary to the Arian bishops.
“O ye bishops, I pray you, what suffrages did the Apostles
make use of? Did they receive their dignity from the
palace?” [26b] And, after all, this is the
unanswerable argument. St. Paul was not received as an
Apostle, because he was allowed to preach to
“Cæsar’s household.” St. Luke was
not
admitted as a Minister simply because he was an educated
man. We do not find the enquiry in Scripture or antiquity,
How shall men preach except they be “respectable?”
or, how shall they preach except they be favoured by the State?
or, how shall they preach except they have literary
distinctions? Necessary and useful as all these
qualifications may be, the distinctive question concerning the
Ministry is, “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”
Now we before observed, that the popular notions, such as
these just considered, concerning the Christian Ministry, seem,
with all their variations, to be the result of a common
principle. The principle, that is, of reducing Christianity
to a bare code, or system, of intelligible precepts or
dogmas. And the advocates of these various notions are
obliged, in some way, to lay out of consideration whatever they
meet with, in Scripture or elsewhere, which is inconsistent with
this principle. The further development of these remarks
may serve more clearly to elicit, and by contrast elucidate the
Catholic doctrine of the Ministry.
The advocates, for example, of the “inward call,”
seem generally to regard Christ’s religion as a code of
doctrines; while the maintainers of a government call, i.e. the
Erastians, regard it chiefly as a code of morals. They both
“simplify;” they both systematize; and their systems,
as such, proceed on very similar grounds. The former system
would naturally consider all things subsidiary to what is called
“the application” of the revealed doctrines to
individuals. Whatever agency seems calculated most
powerfully to bring home the doctrine to the mind of a man, that
is the most desirable; and with a reference to this, and as so
viewed, every thing in Scripture is forthwith
explained. Thus: Are Christians commanded in Scripture to
be ONE? This system
interprets it to mean, that they must have one general
“doctrine.” Are we said to be united to Christ as “members” to a
body? This system calls it a “metaphor,”
designed only to inculcate charity and kindness. Are we
said to be saved by the “washing of water?”
This system tells us to understand it “spiritually:”
for ‘that the water only represents the Spirit.’ In a word, it simply
regards Christianity as a divine mental philosophy; and only
values the visible Church as a useful means, in such proportion
as it effectually “applies” this to
individuals. Of course there are countless varieties of
this species of religion, yet they agree in this, that they all
regard it as an abstract code of principle, and whatever they find in
the Bible beyond this, they bend to their system in one way or
another. Calvinists, Semi-calvinists, Arminians, and
Pelagians, all seem to believe in a kind of essence of
Christianity, the existence of which in an individual is to be
tested by his possession of a sort of religious sense, to which
religious sense they indiscriminately apply every expression of
Scripture concerning the various states of the true
Christian. Accordingly the possessor of this sense is
“regenerated,” “elect,”
“enlightened,” “renewed,” “born
again”—and whatever else they can
“accommodate” in any verse of the Bible. A new
and intangible meaning is found for every term; every thing must
be sublimely doctrinal. The very precepts of Holiness are
looked on as “consequences,” which need not,
therefore, be too formally insisted on. The Sacraments of
Christ are “elevated,” or
extenuated, into “shadows,” and
“signs.” The Church itself is evaporated into
an “invisible” essence!
The other system, that of the Moralist, is rather more
difficult thus to maintain and adapt to Scripture.
Considering Christianity as a sort of republication of the law of
natural morality, with, perhaps, the announcement of the
necessity of repentance, and the assurance of consequent
forgiveness with the Deity; all beyond
this is regarded as mere enthusiasm. The defenders of this
system would allow the existence of a Ministry to be exceedingly
“useful,” and so come to think it the duty of the
State to support it. These, like the former class, would
maintain a visible Church, because it is “useful;”
and so they themselves will go to Church, they tell us,
“for example’s sake.” These, if they are
a little educated, soon become Socinians, [30] and find it necessary to attribute
something much less than inspiration to the Bible, and so avoid
its plain testimony against their system; and then their course
is a very plain one. Those of the party who are more
ignorant, are generally found lulled in a complete religious
torpor, from which it seems almost impossible to wake them; for
if disturbed they only shut their eyes the closer, and more
inflexibly, as if it were the duty of “plain
Christians,” and “sound old Churchmen,” to
understand nothing.
Now in contrast to these and all other simplifiers of the
Catholic truth, we neither would attempt on the one hand, to
reduce the Bible to a code of spiritual principles, nor on the
other to reject spirituality altogether as extravagance.
Consequently we have no need to get rid of any part of Scriptural
truth, either by “explanations” or
“criticisms.” We see that Scripture does
declare spiritual doctrines, and that it does enforce practical
morals. But we see much more than this in the Bible; for we
take it all literally, and plainly. We think that the
Scripturally recorded means, for applying the grace of Christ’s religion are just as divine,
and therefore, for aught we know, just as essential, as either
the doctrines or precepts of that religion. Neither those
doctrines nor precepts may be rightly received, except in
connexion with, and as parts of, the WHOLE Divine Revelation; and of this the
means of heavenly grace included in the Church, are an undoubted
portion. Indeed what may be called the Doctrine of the Church, may be seen in a manner to
comprehend every other, so that even the truth of the Ministerial
Succession is but a part of that Doctrine.
It is very easy to mystify a plain subject, and to represent
that the word Church is of doubtful
meaning; but let any reader of the Bible answer this
question:—When St. Paul wrote a letter to “the Church of Philippi,” was there any
difficulty in deciding whom he meant to address? It is
plain that there existed in that city a number of families BAPTIZED in the name of Christ; and that number was ruled over by
certain spiritual officers; and, as a whole, was called the Church. Wherever, then, we find a
similar body of men, we say, there is a Church. Now, we
believe that such bodies of men, so organized, and constituting,
in the aggregate, the Church Universal, or Catholic, must exist
to the end of the world; because, at the very time when Christ promised to set up such an
institution, He promised to it a perpetuity. “I will
build My Church;” and the
“gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”
All this we believe simply as it stands, putting no invisible
meanings upon it. Wherever, indeed, we meet with a
spiritual truth, we receive it; but we desire not to make or
imagine one where it exists not, just to carry out an hypothesis
of our own.
We know that the spiritual rulers of the Church were made so at first by Christ personally, and that all the members
of the Church were made so in one way,
namely, by Baptism. (Gal. iii. 27.) We think that to the Church alone the peculiar promises of the
Gospel were made. (2 Peter i. 4.) We believe that there was
an awful power lodged in the Church,
and exercised from the beginning, through her Rulers, a power
which, for example, could exclude unworthy members from
Communion, and that those so excluded were cut off from the Church’s peculiar blessing. (Matt,
xviii. 18.) We think that how much soever Excommunication
might now be called a “form,” it was no mere form in
the Apostles’ days. (1 Cor. v. 5; Gal. v. 12; 1 Tim. i. 20,
and v. 20.) We look with reverence therefore on the powers
of the Church, in her Ministers.
We dare not hastily pronounce any thing to be “a mere
matter of discipline” or “only a form,” because
we feel that we are ignorant of the mysterious ways of God: and none can determine the limit which
separates Divine Doctrine and Discipline. In fine, we look
upon the Church herself as One Eternal
Sacrament: the One great outward and
visible Institute, set up by Christ,
conveying to its members His invisible grace, through many
consecrated channels.
The permanent continuance of this One Church on earth we see to have been, in
point of fact, connected, from the beginning, with One permanent
Ministry
or Priesthood, with which, at the first, Christ the great High Priest promised to be
virtually present “to the end of the world.” So
that, as it was promised that the Church should never be prevailed against; so
also that Ministry which was essential to it, should never
cease. To the Church we know the
New Testament was addressed: and by the Church (with all other means of grace) it
was preserved. By the Church’s instrumentality we,
individually, are brought to that Font where the “stewards
of God’s mysteries”
received us to the mystic body of the faithful. By the
Church we really are taught in the
truth; for notwithstanding every boast of independent thinking,
the Church is practically to us, what
it was to the first Christians, “the pillar and ground of
truth.” (1 Tim. iii. 15.) From the Church’s voice we learn even the
lessons of Holy Scripture. And not only the transmitted
Wisdom, but the transmitted Grace of Christ is thus ours; for the
Church is the “fulness of Him
that filleth all in all!” (Eph. i. 23.)—On our head
the Church directs that holy hands be
laid. In the Church we obtain
that grace, whereby we go on “from strength to
strength:” and in our partaking of the mysterious Sacrifice
which “showeth forth the Lord’s death,” glory is given
“unto God in the Church, by Christ
Jesus, throughout all ages.” Nay we doubt not,
that even “unto the principalities and powers in heavenly
places there is made known by the Church the manifold wisdom of God!”
This is the Catholic faith. We trust in God—we rely on His word, and His
appointments; as being anxious to recognise His presence among
us, as really and truly as the Holy Apostles did, when their
Lord stood visibly before them and
said, “Lo! I AM WITH YOU
always!” And it may safely be left to any man to
judge, how far these thoughts and feelings are in harmony with
the literal word of God. Every
one may see that we have nothing there to explain
away—nothing to “account for.” It is such
as we might have written ourselves, so far as the sentiments are
concerned, to the full extent that those sentiments may be
apprehended. How simple and natural to us sounds the
injunction, “Obey them that have the Rule over you, for
they watch for your souls!” and how awkward, to say the
least, when spoken of self-sent teachers, or those whom the
people have commissioned and
“called.”—Believing that the Church is the perpetual depositary of those
awful gifts, which Christ gave to men
when He “ascended up on high,” knowing that He gave
some Apostles, “some prophets, some pastors, and
teachers,” for the perfecting of the saints, “till we
all come in the Unity of the faith, . . . unto the measure of the
stature of the fulness of Christ”—Not doubting that these,
Christ’s gifts, have remained
and ever shall remain in His Church;
with what thoughts must we regard the Church’s Ministry! How can
we feel the thrilling solemnity of St. Paul’s
exclamation, after he had absolved the Corinthian penitent,
“Such trust have we through
Christ to God-ward!”—“Such trust!”—words may not
describe it—“Such
trust!”—“not that we are sufficient of
ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves, but our sufficiency
is of God, WHO also hath MADE
US Ministers of the New Testament!” What depth
of meaning to us is there in such language as, “Feed the
flock of God over whom the Holy Ghost hath made you
overseers!” We feel that we are using it in the
Apostle’s divine sense—yes, the very same solemn
sense! All systematizers are obliged to put some lower
diluted meaning upon it! And not on this alone, but on
every similar text of the Sacred Word! Which of them can
say, in the same sense as the Apostles did, of the Ministers of
Christ, that they are “Workers
together with God?”—Let
any man revolve in his mind all those words so copiously quoted
already, concerning the unearthly responsibilities of those
who have to “save themselves, and them that hear
them.” Let a man deeply think of his Saviour’s words, “I give unto
you the keys of the kingdom of heaven,” “He that
heareth you heareth Me,” and he will feel it strange
mockery, to apply such language to a minister self-authorized, or
commissioned by civil governors; and he will come to feel, as the
believers in an Apostolic Ministry feel, the power of the
question; “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”
Having now thus far explained the nature of the Catholic
Doctrine of the Ministry; not attempting to prove it by
theoretical arguments, but simply to contrast it with other
doctrines, and compare it with Scripture; it remains for us, next
to consider the means whereby this Ministry hath been continued
in the Church; and for this purpose we must state the Doctrine of
the Succession. The Evidences of
the doctrine, and the Objections urged against it, we must
reserve to the following lectures.
It is affirmed, that before the Apostles quitted the field of
their earthly labours, they appointed “Successors;”
and “laying their hands” on them, transmitted all the
Apostolical power which they had received from Christ. It is not supposed that the
gift of Apostolical Ordination contained necessarily any such
grace, as is ordinarily understood by the term miraculous; though
many who were ordained at first, might of course have possessed
likewise such miraculous gifts, as were very common to all
classes of believers in the early Church. It is also on
record, that the ordained Successors of the Apostles, before
they also died, bequeathed their power and authority to
others, by the same ceremony of “laying on of
hands.” And it is not denied by any, that the same
practice has universally prevailed from that time to the
present. These Apostolical Successors throughout the whole
Church, were deemed the centres of Unity, and sources of
Sacramental grace to their respective communities, dioceses, or
Churches. They were looked upon as Chief Embassadors of
Christ—Vicegerents of the Saviour of mankind—all, in a word,
which St. Peter and St. Paul claimed to be:—Divinely
“Sent.” (1 Tim. i. 12, ii.
7.) They were at first called by various
names,—Apostles, Superintendents, Angels, and Bishops; but
eventually this latter designation prevailed. From these
Bishops every other officer of the Church derived his power, and
“without the Bishop,” to use the words of St.
Ignatius, the contemporary of the Apostles, it was not lawful to
do any
thing in the Church. Finally, for more than a thousand
years there was no Church in all the world which was not so
governed by Apostolically descended Bishops.
Such is an outline of the Doctrine of the Succession. A
minuter consideration of its details will necessarily follow on,
when we investigate the Evidence, in
our next lecture. The solemn consequences of the Doctrine
itself, are such as may well dispose us to approach the
examination with all seriousness of soul. For on the one
hand, if we reject the Succession, it follows, that we have not
left on earth any real Ministry of Christ; while if we admit it, we admit it
with all its exclusive claims. Hard things may be said of
the choice of such a subject, and the revival of such an inquiry,
but the overwhelming importance of it will be a sufficient
vindication to every reflecting mind seeking for truth. The
time is come when questions like these may not be suffered to
remain undecided. When Romanism has advanced so rapidly
among us, making boast of its exclusive Apostolic claims, dare we
be silent? If we will care not to show our people our
Divine claims on their spiritual allegiance, can we wonder that
they revolt to Rome? Might we not expect the very
“stones to cry out against us?” In truth, in very
truth, we have been silent too long! And the meagre
Christianity now prevalent on all hands, gives fatal evidence
against us. Christians seem to have forgotten that they are
already the members of an Eternal community!—Well may we
ask, Are these the elect of God?—His chosen heritage?—with
the unseen wall of fire around them, and an uncared-for glory in
the midst? Yes, Christians seem almost wholly to have
forgotten their endowment of manifold gifts—almost
forgotten the “taste of the good word of God, and the Powers of the world to
come,” (Heb. vi. 4.) so that it may appear well nigh
impossible to “renew them again to repentance!”
But shall the Churches venture thus to await, without an effort,
the Second Coming of the Lord?—God
forbid! “Whoso hath an ear to hear, let him hear what
the Spirit saith unto the Churches”—“Remember from whence thou art fallen! and
repent! and do the FIRST works; or
else I will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy
candlestick out of his place, except thou REPENT!”