Earnest Christianity

James Caughey

I would rather be called ‘impenitent’ by man, than ‘unfaithful’ by the Lord. Which is safest, think you? By the way, this revival is the season for the study of human nature. It is with minds as with the field’s upon a farm — it is the season, wet of dry which develops the nature of the soil, and the roots which best flourish there accordingly. When all is quiet, and the Gospel comes in word only, how very good-natured sinners are! The preacher is a very fine fellow, — an agreeable, eloquent gentleman, if you please, of rare talents and learning — the very preacher for them. How polite and amiable they are. Fine times for church-members, too! Religion is basking in the sunshine of the world, and they share in it. But, let the Gospel come, not in word only, but in power and in the Holy Ghost, and with much assurance, — I Thes. 1: 5, — searching the inmost of the soul, flashing the lightnings of eternal truth around the walls of the temple; then are the dispositions and the thoughts of many hearts revealed. — Luke 2: 35. Let the truth of God strike home once or twice “with unexpected vividness,” then behold the attitude of the carnal mind. What indignation, what malice, what revenge, may be, against him who flung the fatal weapon, and against all concerned!

I’ve read of a viper which hides its teeth in its gums, requiring good sight to detect them. Simplicity might conclude them harmless. Provoke the viper: the teeth are instantly seen, protruding in battle array! It is thus with the carnal mind, the world over.

This enmity is not apt to slumber in a revival. It is like the American snake, seldom caught napping in hot weather. In cold weather, when the thermometer is below zero, there is no danger from snakes; bring them to the fire, however, and life and enmity will soon appear. It is like fire smoldering under a heap of ashes — that is, carnal enmity; stir it up, and it shows red life sufficient to kindle a conflagration that many waters could not quench.

A divine in Switzerland struck this chord with a powerful hand. He said, “Religion is that which so nearly concerns every man that it is hardly possible for a man to be without sentiment regarding it. For, on ordinary subjects, our tastes change and oscillate between likes and dislikes, from aversion to affection, without ever stopping in the intermediate space. But, when any subject presses upon our hopes or fears, our love or hatred, we are constrained to flee from indifference, as from a sort of DEATH. And why? Because we are creatures of feeling and sensibility! Therefore, upon the presence of a fact so immense and so overpowering as that of religion, which every moment solicits our decision, we may truly say that indifference finds its limits. How does this Swiss sentiment tally with your experience?

Open your clock-door, and observe the motions of the pendulum, how it vibrates and oscillates to and fro. It tarries not a moment in the centre, neutrality is impossible while the weights are suspended and the clock moves. It is so with the human mind, when the weight of religion is upon it, and eternal realities are suspended, forcing the mind to action. Neutrality is next to impossible during a great revival; for it is then the mind feels most decidedly the weight and eternal consequences of religion. Like the pendulum in a clock, the mind finds no rest in an intermediate space, between likes and dislikes, affection and aversion; it is ever in one state or the other, and flies indifference — abhors it, as nature a vacuum. It must be on one side or the other; on the side of religion or on the world’s side, on the Lord’s side or on the devil’s side. The results am seen upon the dial-plate of the clock, equally so upon the dial of our character. Moses cried, “Who is on the Lord’s side, let him come unto me,” he never suspected neutrality. It is thus I interpret certain phenomena which now begin to appear unmistakably — opposition from unexpected quarters!

Devils themselves cannot maintain neutrality. They could not in the days of our Lord. But [pardon me] there was a dignity and candor about devils not found in many human opponents of revivals. Devils always accosted our Lord with respect and deference. “I know thee, who thou art, the holy one of God; art thou come to torment us?” Again What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of God; art thou came hither to torment us before the time?” Again What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the most high God? I adjure thee by God, that thou torment me not. “ Again “ What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of God most high? I beseech thee, torment me not” Such was the language of devils, usually estimated as mind at its worst. Great energy in their deprecations, but great respect and veneration. But look at the treatment our Lord received from the tongues of sinners. Anything of this ‘respect’ and ‘deference’ is his character? ‘Is not this the carpenter’s son?’ And they called him ‘a wine-bibber and a glutton, a blasphemer, a perverter of the nation, a drunkard, a friend of publicans and sinners, a Samaritan, the prince of the devils, mad, possessed of a devil,’ and other hard names and language. That Name, to which every knee upon earth, as well as in heaven, shall bow, made a jest and a by-word. That devils prompted to all this I would not deny; but it seems they could not, or date not, do so themselves.

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Well, some good among the ‘evil;’ if my preaching ’hardens,’ it ‘softens’ others. That is a mercy. Walking out, the other morning, I noticed a piece of ice and a lump of clay; the sun was melting the ice and hardening the clay. There is much of this, possibly, going on among those who sit under my ministry. Was the sun to blame that his rays did not melt the clay-lump? You would not say so. Why, then, impute to my preaching that which the nature of the sinner produces in himself. If my illustrations ‘play the mischief with sound objections,’ pray, blame not them, but the gossamer nature of the objections themselves. If the objections were sound, my illustrations would be as harmless as the southern fire-fly.

If my preaching ‘stumbles’ some, it humbles others; ay, and converts them, too, My Master’s preaching had similar effects. He was “a rock of offence, and a stone of stumbling,” to many. — Rom. 9: 33. “Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel,” said Simeon. — Luke 2: 34. There were weepers under his ministry; ay, and eyes as tearless as the firmament during the three years’ drought under Elijah the prophet. By the side of my Lord Jesus allow me to stand, and rise or fail with him, in human estimation. “The disciple is not above his master, neither servant above his Lord, It is enough for the disciple that he be as his master, and the servant as his lord.” — Matt. 10: 25. Amen to what my Lord doth say!

If skeptics gather poison out of my “flowers of speech,” they are not the first wasps that have sucked poison out of bee-flowers. It was so, also, with my Lord’s preaching. Some of his hearers, after listening to a discourse full of heavenly eloquence, went and held a council how they might entangle him in his talk, — Matt, 22: 15, and others said, “Never man spake like this man.” The “king-wasp” of all was Judas; he kissed those eloquent lips, and betrayed. ‘‘Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss?” Judas gathered no honey from those lips; or, if he did, it was soon converted into a poison that destroyed him.

Read over the eighth of John. How busily those wasps sucked honey out of his words, — those Pharisees, Sadducees, and the swarms that surrounded them’ “Why do ye not understand my speech? Even because ye cannot hear my word; ye are of your father the devil, for the lusts of your father ye wilt do.” There you have a question, an answer, and the pedigree of his hearers. “He that is God heareth God’s words; ye therefore hear them not, because ye are not of God.” Here was another of truth’s honey-flowers. But how soon they extracted poison out of it! “Say we not well that thou art a Samaritan and hast a devil?” But he who changed the water into wine turned the poison they would administer into honey again, by replying, “I have not a devil; but I honor my Father, and ye do dishonor me. And I seek not mine own glory: there is one that judgeth. Verily, verily, I say unto you, If a man keep my saying, he shall never see death.” Another beautiful flower, full of honey to the believer; but the wasps dipped into it, and converted its nectar into instant and deadly poison: “Now we know that thou hast a devil. Abraham is dead, and the prophets; and thou sayest, If a man keep my saying, he shall never taste of death. “Then Jesus answered, “Verily, verily say I unto you, BEFORE ABRAHAM WAS, I AM.”

Flower of eternity! The morning-flower of glory! The honey-flower of heaven! The delight of angels! The glory of saints above, below! They dipped into that, also, and transformed its sweetness into a poison which so envenomed them into madness, that they ceased gathering poison to gather stones to shower the best of beings; but he glided out of their presence, and passed away.

Had you been there, with your present views, you would have questioned the wisdom of Jesus in offering such flowers to such a waspish mass as surrounded him, for, certainly, the discourse made their heart as hard as the stones they were about to fling at him. But, mark! it is stated in the thirtieth verse, ‘As he spake these words MANY BELIEVED ON HIM.’ You see, now, what he was about. He was winning souls to Himself — ‘many’. He was in the midst of a revival just there, his preaching was productive. The devil knew it, and set on the ungodly. Thus some were softened into believing faith under his ministry, while others were hardened, — for people are ’hard enough’ when they begin to throw stones for arguments. Huddersfield sinners are not quite so hard as that, yet; so that I am behind my Lord, and not by his side, in this matter! Jesus aimed at souls, not popularity. He hazarded, indeed, a shower of stones; but, in doing so, he adorned his diadem with many immortal gems. Having gained his object, he quietly avoided the stones; stopping for a moment to give sight to a blind man. It is an ill wind that blows nobody good; the threatened stone-shower brought eyesight to the blind man.