1 Corinthians xiv. 40.
“Let all things be done
decently and in order.”
These words are a general precept
about Church order following up a particular remonstrance.
The Corinthian Christians, divinely distinguished by the number
and excellence of the spiritual gifts and privileges bestowed on
them, had, alas! distinguished themselves by anarchy,
lawlessness, pride, self-will, self-sufficiency,
uncharitableness, ecclesiastical and moral laxity of various
forms and kinds. The Apostle deals with all these offences
severally and particularly, and then he gives a general
rule—a rule which was to cover and guide all their
practice, and the practice of every other church: “Let all
things be done decently (decorously) and in order”
(according to system and appointment).
Without further preface, I would, in all solemnity, read this
precept as addressed to us, brethren, to the clergy and laity of
the Anglican Church of this present day, and as one which for the
glory of God, and the edifying of ourselves, it is most needful
to fix in our remembrance and to observe with all
strictness. And did I design my teaching to be merely
general, I
know no more useful theme to which to address myself; for as like
the Corinthians we Anglicans have been distinguished by God, in
that He has poured out upon us conspicuous and super-excellent
gifts and privileges, so like them are we constantly
distinguishing ourselves by strifes, irregularities, and
miserable assertions of self’s importance and self’s
wilfulness unparalleled, I believe, by Romans, Greeks, or
dissenters.
But I have a special purpose, as you have probably
anticipated, in selecting the subject for consideration at this
time.
There is just now a great agitation throughout the land about
what is called “The Ritual Movement.” After
many years of sluggish indifference to the Apostle’s
precept—it would hardly exceed the truth to say of perverse
opposition to it, in doing all things indecently and against
order—men on all sides are waking up to a sense of their
neglect, and to a desire to repair it; and, by consequence, those
who have not gone with the movement have found themselves
surrounded by what wears the appearance of strange and even
dangerous innovation, and those who have gone with it—both
teachers and disciples—have in some cases been hurried
along without due care to consider, perhaps without time to
consider, whither they were tending.
To both these parties—the standers still and the
hurriers along—how wisely speaks the precept, “Let
all things be done decently and in order”!
And first to the first—the standers still—the
“old-fashioned,” the contented with things as they
were. Consider, my brethren, what mean ye by the service of
God in the sanctuary, the assembling of yourselves in Church from
time to time. Why do you come? Who bade you come?
what to do? You come to worship God in a building set apart
for His worship; a place in which He may meet you by
appointment. And who is God? The great and glorious
Jehovah, in Whose sight the very Heavens are not clean; Who asks,
asserting His dignity, “What place will ye build Me”
(that is worthy of Me)? My brethren, if you duly
regarded His Majesty, if you, in any adequate degree, appreciated
His amazing condescension, would you consider any edifice too
grand for His localised presence, any expenditure on its
furniture and ornament too lavish, any care for its arrangement
and for the reverent honour of its All Holy Tenant too elaborate,
too scrupulously particular? You know what provision you
would make, what anxious care would possess you to fit your
house, to array and order your household, for the due
entertaining of an expected guest only just a little above
yourselves in dignity and in claim to be respected. You can
hardly imagine what you would do if your Queen
condescended to be for a while your guest; but you know that at
least you would not err on the side of niggardliness,
slovenliness, and indifference; that your provision would be as
magnificent as possible, your service particular and constant,
your reverence profound. This being the case—and you
know it is the case—a lively belief that God does
wondrously vouchsafe to dwell with you, that the Church is indeed
His local habitation, that when you enter within its walls, you
are in His available, His very tangible presence; that what you
do or neglect there, is done or neglected to Him, would
spontaneously beget in you the desire, and quicken the effort, to
make the edifice worthy of Him, according to your natural notions
of worthiness, to provide due accessories of worship, to order
yourselves as real and most reverential worshippers.
But you are not left to spontaneity. When God chose for
Himself a people to honour and serve Him, to be witnesses for His
honour, to bring in due time all nations to serve and worship
Him, He taught that people what kind of House they should build
Him, and with what kind of ritual they should serve Him; treating
the matter of such importance as actually to inspire the
architects, to prescribe each article of furniture and every
detail of ornament, to appoint precisely the ceremonies and
observances. And what did He require? That the material of
house and ornament should be of the best and costliest and most
splendid; that every act, every feeling of worship should have
its corresponding sign in some ritualistic observance; that among
the accessories of worship should be attractions for means of
enlisting men’s various senses; colour, and pattern and
ornament for the eye, music for the ear, fragrant perfume for the
scent.
This is God’s pattern of what is decorous: His
prescription of order.
But you object: “No, this was God’s pattern
and order: but it was all appointed under a different
dispensation from Christianity, for a rude and childish people,
as pictures and types and carnal ordinances, to be exchanged when
men were fit, when the Messiah should come, for inward and
invisible realities, for purely spiritual things, which heart and
mind alone could apprehend, which outward sense would rather
obscure than discover.”
Now, of course, Judaism was in some respects a different
dispensation from Christianity, and some even of its divinely
appointed observances were merely temporary, and had a
significance and use for Jews which they would not have for
us. But it is quite an error to suppose that these Jews
were a rude and childish people; they were rather the civilised
and cultivated and most spiritual of the earth. Albeit, if
we might dare to say so, for them more than for us, or for any
other people whom God has since drawn near to Himself, an
elaborate outward and sensuous worship (if it were not the right,
the necessary, the permanent accompaniment of inward realities)
was unsuitable and fraught with danger. They had just come
out from the home of idolatry; they were going to dwell among the
observers of carnal and idolatrous rites; they were themselves
hankering after visible objects of worship; they would again and
again make stumbling blocks for themselves out of the very things
which God appointed for their edification in His worship.
Now ascribing to God, as we must always do, perfect wisdom and clearest
foresight, is it presumptuous to say that He would have kept
these snares from the Jews, that he would have drawn off their
minds from the external and the naturally magnificent, and rather
would have forbidden than enforced minute ritual
and much worship of the body, as things through which they were
sure to err, unless there were in the things themselves intrinsic
good, unless, in fact, they were not merely useful accessories of
worship, but a very integral and essential part of the worship
itself?
And then, again, my brethren, where are we told that
Christianity is a purely spiritual religion; that its
functions are all such as can be performed by mind and heart,
without body; that, in fact, the body has no real part in
them? The worship of the body is indeed no worship by
itself, for: “God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him
must worship Him in spirit and in truth.” But is it
not Christianity that has redeemed and consecrated the
body? Has not the second Adam taken away from it all but
its form of mortality? Has not the Lord purchased it for Himself, imposing upon
it much work in His service; commanding by His inspired Apostle
that it should glorify Him; promising it great excellencies and
rewards in its future state; appointing for it a glorious worship
in heaven? Assuredly, my brethren, as man is three-fold and
has been redeemed in his three-fold nature, mind, heart, and
body, so has each part of him its appointed, its bounden part, to
take on its own account in the positive worship of
God. And were it not so, were the body merely the case of
the soul—its link with the material; its tabernacle in the
temporal; its agent among the natural and outward—still, is
it not in these respects part of its office to exhibit what is in
the soul? Does not the soul naturally move it when it is
moved itself? Is not the body, as it were spontaneously,
affected by all that passes within, and, unless unnaturally
restrained or physically disabled, does it not always betray and
manifest the inward affection?
The soul may worship God sufficiently (for the whole being) when the body
is taking no part by reason of paralysis or prostration, or
because the man, deeming it inexpedient at that time that sound
or sign should escape him, is curbing and binding it down; but in
health and left unrestrained, the body is such a spontaneous
sympathizer and persistent co-operator with all within, that we
are justified in saying of him who does not speak to God with his
lips, and bow his head before Him, and clasp his hands, and kneel
upon his knees, that he does not worship God in spirit and in
truth!
We have reached thus far, brethren—if you have gone with
me—that God has prescribed much ritual, and that man from
his very nature must use much ritual in divine worship.
Of course God’s prescription is liable to much
modification when it comes to be applied, not to one people, but
to all the nations of the earth; not to a tabernacle in the
wilderness or a temple at Jerusalem, but to every place in which
men ask him to record His name and come unto them and bless them;
not to dim and imperfect types, but to the glorious and perfect
anti-types; not to Judaism, which was local and temporary, but to
Christianity, which is universal and eternal. Of course,
too, the details of men’s spontaneous worship will,
necessarily, be different according to the truth which they have
to express by outward signs, according to their natural
characteristics in a warm or cold climate, according even to
individual temperament.
But this principle assuredly holds good for all time and for
all men: that God having once pronounced Himself in favour of a
certain kind of ritual, and His Church having consented to
express its doctrines and its feelings by certain outward signs
and rites of its own, the general rule and form of decent and
orderly worship has been set and established, which should only
be departed from by Divine sanction and appointment, unless,
indeed, the doctrines and feelings which we have to express are
so diverse from those of the elder Church that they cannot find
an intelligent and real expression in the same ritual.
You will
hardly need, brethren, that I should prove to you that our
religion is substantially that which God gave to the Jews; that
under the old dispensation as under the new, salvation is offered
to mankind only through Jesus Christ, and that the general ways
of seeking and keeping hold of that salvation—humbling
ourselves before God, initiation into His covenant, constant
prayer, supplication and praise, constant pleadings of His
sacrifice, constant feeding on His grace, are the same for us as
for them, unless God Himself has changed them. Now this we
know that He has done in some respects, taking away circumcision,
the daily sacrifice of animals, and the Passover, and various
rites and ceremonies which, from the nature of the case, could be
only temporary; or, at least, had real use and significance only
for the nation of the Jews, or for an expectant
Church. But then He has given us other ordinances in the
place of those withdrawn, and these we naturally
observe in the same spirit, and, as far as suits them, with the
same form as He appointed for the older ordinances. God is
still the same: man is still the same. The expression of
worship which He once required, is that which He must surely
still require in all its essentials, all its characteristics.
That the Christian Church accepted at once this rule of
worship is evident from the fact, that the apostles and first
disciples continued to take part in the temple and synagogue
services as long as the Jews would let them; yea, and that they
even still observed those ordinances which, in their necessary
observance, God had abrogated; instead of which He had appointed
other things. This, my brethren, is most worthy of note,
because it shows that these men, full of the Spirit, discerned
that they had still the same God to worship, and that, as far as
circumstances would let them, the natural way—the right
way—of worshipping was that which their fathers had
followed; so much so that they might even still retain—as
long as it could be done without injury, with
edification—those very ordinances which, in
their binding, their sacramental character, by God’s
declaration, belonged not to Christianity!
But God left it not to this pious, conservative feeling to
maintain the dignity and splendour of His worship. As in
the Mount He had given Moses a pattern and a law of all things
that men should make and do for His worship in the Church on
earth; so in Patmos to the beloved disciple, to him who had drunk
in most deeply the spirit of Christ, to him who was to teach men
more than any other prophet of the real, the abiding, the
spiritual, the heavenly—to him, I say, God opened a door in
heaven, and showed the things that must be hereafter, the worship
that is to be celebrated and perpetuated in His fullest Presence;
and lo! it was full of visible glories and ceremonial
observances.
“Yes,” men say: “but surely that must be
allowed to be figurative—to be a mere pictorial way of
describing inward and invisible truths and feelings.”
We are not so sure of that, brethren. Heaven must be a
substantial and tangible place; because those who are to inhabit
it will have bodies to rest in it, and eyes, and ears and other
senses to find gratification in it. And if it is such a
place, and is full of objects which affect the body, and which
the body may employ, then I see not why much of what the Apostle
saw in vision may not be a literal representation of what shall
actually be. But concede that it is only an image, a
pictorial representation, nevertheless it is God who has chosen
these things to symbolize His perpetual worship; and are we best
preparing ourselves for that worship—best rehearsing it,
best professing it, best honouring Him, doing all things decently
and in order, if we set aside in His worship all that He once
enjoined in letter upon His early Church, all that He has
used—figuratively, if you will—as fittest to
represent to us His perfect worship in the Church triumphant,
and, I suppose, to enlist our present interest, and to kindle a
hearty intelligent desire for a full share in it hereafter?
But here, again, men object. They will concede that,
perhaps, there may be something literal in this
prophetical description; at any rate that it symbolizes
faithfully and precisely the spiritual homage, the joy and
adoration of souls which shall be in heaven. But they
assert that it does not symbolize—that, in fact, it is in
very contrast with all the state and feeling which belong to us
poor wandering and afflicted pilgrims and prodigals on earth.
My brethren, if there were no other argument in favour of
maintaining or of restoring where it has fallen into decay such a
ritual as I am advocating, this one objection would furnish a
most cogent reason for it,—a very necessity; for what does
it show but that men have lost the truth which this ritual
embodies and expresses—namely, that while indeed in the
world they are still pilgrims, still prodigals distant from
home, though sighing for and seeking that home, beholders of
promises afar off, yet in the Church they are at
home, having obtained the promises. The Church
is the ark of salvation, which God has provided to keep us safe
in the drowning of the world. It is the kingdom of heaven,
whose King is now in the midst of it. It is the bosom of
the Father whereon each penitent prodigal now rests accepted, the
Everlasting arms whose felt embrace assures of present peace and
joy. It is the wedding feast whereat all the friends of the
King’s son are decked with glories and feasted with good
things; nay, it is the Bride herself, adorned for the Bridegroom,
the King’s daughter, all glorious and full of joy!
What present comfort in the troubles of this lower life, what
cheering in despondency, what stimulus in toilsome effort do we
not miss, my brethren, by not realizing that in the Church we are
come unto Mount Zion, unto the heavenly Jerusalem—unto the
very throne, into the very presence, within the enfolding arms of
the God who has saved us, Who loves to fill us full of peace, and
joy, and benediction now.
And, alas! what do we not in our blindness or misconception
withhold from God—of that most reasonable, that greatly
due, that
loudly-demanded service—the perpetual sacrifice of praise
and thanksgiving for the past mercies of our redemption, for our
continual sustentation through the intercession of our Great High
Priest, by the grace which He continually gives us; for the
coming glory which, being promised, is sure on His part, and most
certainly needs to be acknowledged with grateful, hearty, and
adoring lives!
If, my brethren, it is the aim of “the ritual
movement” to express all this grand truth, and to help men
to live by it, then surely they are doing a great work who have
originated and are carrying on the movement; and we are
inconsiderately depriving ourselves of much that is helpful and
edifying—that, I say, not withholding from God due and most
acceptable worship—if we allow our prejudices to oppose the
movement, so far as it is lawful, and either insist upon
prescribing for ourselves a ritual, or labour to uphold and
stereotype one that has no likeness in the Old and New Testament,
in the Church of any age, in our own Book of Common Prayer.
Some of you may think, my brethren, that I have not chosen the
fittest theme for Lent sermons. But recollect that this
season is specially appointed for the self-discipline and growth
in grace and in all godliness of those who are already in some
sense religious; and then put it to yourselves whether the
rooting out of you of stubborn prejudices, uncharitable and
unworthy suspicions (with the many bitter, unchristian fruits
that follow them), and that miserable spirit of formalism which
delights in finding objections to a form and in refusing
conformity, would not greatly help you to worship God in spirit
and in truth.
There are dangers inherent in high ritual, it is being greatly
abused, and of those who desire it many are wholly misconceiving
its spirit and its use. To these I shall speak in turn, if
God will, with the same affectionate boldness and desire to be
faithful, which have influenced me in all that I have now
said.
Meantime, beloved, remember that we are all brethren, saved from the same
destruction, redeemed with the same precious blood, sanctified by
the same spirit, called with the same calling, and to the same
service, inheritors of the same heaven, worshippers of the same
God. Strive not, then, with one another. Judge not,
that ye be not judged. Do not exaggerate differences; try
rather to lay aside differences. Seek each one what may
edify others, and all what may honour God. Endeavour to
take, each and all of you, your due part in common
worship. Ask God’s Spirit to show you out of His own
Word, illustrated by the testimony of His Church, what is
common worship; and soon, if you do so, you will come to agree
with and to join fervently and profitably in all that is really
essential to the right adoration of our ever and all-glorious
God.
“When to Thy beloved on Patmos. [13]
Through the open door in heaven,
Visions of the perfect worship,
Saviour! by Thy love were given,
Surely there was truth and spirit,
Surely there a pattern shown,
How Thy Church should do her service
When she came before the Throne.
O the censer-bearing Elders,
Crowned with gold and robed in white!
O the living creatures’ anthem,
Never resting day or night!
And the thousand choirs of Angels,
With their voices like the sea,
Singing praise to God the Father
And, O victim Lamb, to Thee!
Lord, bring home the glorious lesson
To their hearts, who strangely deem
That an unmajestic worship
Doth Thy Majesty beseem;
Show them
more of Thy dear Presence,
Let them, let them come to know,
That our King is throned among us,
And His Church is Heaven below.
Then shall faith read off the meaning
Of each stately ordered rite,
Dull surprise and hard resistance
Turn to awe and full delight;
Men shall learn how sacred splendour
Shadows forth the pomps above
How the glory of our altars
Is the homage of our love.
’Tis for Thee we bid the frontal
Its embroidered wealth unfold,
’Tis for Thee we deck the reredos
With the colours and the gold;
Thine the floral glow and fragrance,
Thine the vestures’ fair array,
Thine the starry lights that glitter
Where Thou dost Thy light display.
’Tis to Thee the chant is lifted,
’Tis to Thee the heads are bowed;
Far less deep was Israel’s rapture
When the glory filled the cloud.
O our own true God incarnate,
What should Christians’ Ritual be
But a voice to utter somewhat
Of their pride and joy in Thee.
What but this? yet since corruption
Mars too oft our holiest things,
In the form preserve the spirit;
Give the worship angel’s wings,
Till we gain Thine own high temple,
Where no tainting breath may come,
And whate’er is good and beauteous
Finds with Thee a perfect home.”