SERMON II.

OUR VIEWS OF HEAVEN.

(JULY 7, 1867.)

"Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that when He shall appear we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as He is pure."—1 JOHN iii. 2, 3.

WHEN we claim on behalf of the Christian morality a purity or disinterestedness greater than that of any other religion, we are sometimes met with the reply that the motives it offers to men, however they may be disguised in language, are really selfish, inasmuch as they appeal to his self-interest. "Do this, and you shall obtain a reward. Do that, and you will be punished." And these objectors say that so far from Christianity inspiring men with the most perfect spirit of self-devotion, it is quite impossible that it should do so; and that men in ages preceding the Christian revelation,

who gave up their lives for their country or one another, without any expectation of recompense in another world, were in reality exhibiting a much more perfect form of sacrifice. And those who would establish their theory that self-interest is the one power by which man can be moved, are very glad, you may be sure, to receive such support for their views from the Christian revelation. There is no lack of passages in the Gospels and Epistles to allege in their support. "Lay not up for yourselves treasure on earth, where rust and moth do corrupt, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through and steal." "Whoso shall give to drink unto one of these little ones, a cup of cold water only, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward." The Christian morality may be, they will allow, more perfect than many others, but still it has been found necessary to enforce it by other motives than its intrinsic attractions.

We were speaking last Sunday of a shrewdness, a worldly wisdom which has great fascinations for those who think they possess it. It is an old observation that men and women

constantly speak of the world as if they themselves did not belong to it. No man would perhaps be pleased to be told that his single motive of action was his own interest: and yet it is with a pleased sense of conscious acumen, and perhaps some feeling of the security that lies in numbers, that men will make charges of the kind we are speaking of against their species. Notable, if we think of it, is this tendency to depreciate our kind-to prove that man is only a little higher than the devils, instead of being a little lower than the angels. Notable, too, because there is abundant evidence that it is not a conviction reluctantly arrived at, but that there is really a wish which is father to the thought. A popular writer of our day was always enforcing the fact that all men are selfish, and there is no doubt that one great cause of his popularity consisted in this teaching. But I ask again, as I asked last Sunday, if these truths be truths, is there any profit in them? Do they help us to rise out of our selfishness, or merely supply us with a new justification for it? Do they kindle a new enthusiasm for good, or merely confirm in us the tendency to tolerate evil? These are questions which touch us all very nearly, and in

the effort to answer which we may all learn some vital lessons about ourselves.

People in general do not examine with particular care the soundness of arguments alleged in support of their own theories. And I think that this view of Christian morality has been drawn rather from isolated texts than from a review of the whole Gospel message. I do not deny that these texts, and indeed that the whole Gospel, appeals to men's sense of interest. I do not deny that it is a system of rewards and punishments. The question is, What are the rewards and punishments so held out? There is a kind of reward the pursuit of which can. hardly be considered mercenary. If virtue is its own reward, as the proverb goes, and a man pursues after virtue, it is surely scrupulousness run mad to call that pursuit selfish. The hope of Heaven, my brethren, is constantly and earnestly held out to men by Christ and His Apostles. But before we go our way, condemning the system as one built upon self-seeking, let us pause to inquire what is the heaven which Christ came to reveal.

St. John says plainly in the passage of his first Epistle which is before us, that our view of a future life determines our present one. "Whoso

hath this hope in him purifieth himself even as He is pure." He says boldly, therefore, that the hope of reward is a powerful agent, in fact the only effective one. His Lord had said the same thing when He was among men. But neither Jesus nor the beloved disciple would have held out heaven as the object of men's desire without first revealing heaven to them. Jesus brought heaven down to men, in His own person. He said, "Come to me, for I am meek and lowly, and I will give you rest." He said, "I am one with the Father, and whoso hath seen me hath seen Him." He showed to them in His daily companionship that every lovely deed and word He enforced was but an expression of His own nature. He told them He should leave them and go to the Father. He said that in that Father's house were many mansions; that He should go to prepare a place for them, and that where He was there they should be. Was there any fear, when He had taught these lessons, and inspired this spirit, that the disciples, who looked up to Him with adoring love, would think of heaven as a place of selfish luxury? According to their view of Him would be their view of heaven. Their views of both were not perfectly true, for they

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