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     ROMANS xii. 1.--"I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the grace of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service."

     If I should say that this text, standing as it does in the centre of the apostle's letter to the Romans, linking its doctrinal statements to their practical application, connecting the philosophy of salvation with its lessons of duty, expresses also the central idea of Christianity; if I should assert, that the doctrine of sacrifice contains the central truth in the system of revelation, the statement would not perhaps be generally accepted. We talk much of central ideas; we spend much time in search after fundamental truth, but entering as we necessarily do upon that search from different standpoints, viewing truth from different points of outlook, it will necessarily present itself to us in different forms, modified as these views are by all the peculiar characteristics of our individuality, colored by the previous condition of mind, predetermined, I might say fixed, by the standpoint occupied. As the illiterate backwoodsman, deceived by the equally distant horizon that bounds his vision and circumscribes his world, fancies himself standing in the centre of the earth; as the ancient astronomer, studying the heavens from his terrestrial standpoint, beholding the hosts of heaven circling around him, naturally came to look upon the earth as the great centre of the universe, never dreaming, that he might be on the outskirts of some great system of worlds, never dreaming that the prominence of the earth and its apparent central position might be due to the simple fact, that it was his world, his standpoint of observation, never dreaming, that any other standpoint of observation was possible; and some future student, capable of occupying it--capable of taking a broader view--would render obsolete the dogma which himself received as an undoubted truth. So in theology. The student of Scripture has his points of outlook, from which he studies revelation; and, naturally enough, beholds the system revolving around the standpoint occupied, gravitating to the central

truth from which it is studied. Hence, the different views reached do not present to us the absolute relation of things, but each view embodies one of the many-sided aspects of truth.

     When I say, therefore, that sacrifice is the central idea of Christianity, I do not wish to be understood as insisting that this is absolutely a correct statement of revealed truth. Indeed, but for the actual pretensions of popes--at Rome and elsewhere--I should doubt if human presumption and conceit had ever gone so far as to suppose itself capable of surveying God's truth in all its infinite heights and depths, and presenting that truth to us in the absolute perfection of its infinite relations. "Who hath known the mind of the Lord?   *   *   *   How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out." Where, with infinite truth around us, shall we, limited as our capacities, narrow at best as our vision, where shall we look for the ultimate centre of all truth--where shall we hope to find it? We obtain glimmerings of infinite truth, enough for present guidance and, encouragement, but no more. The best we can do, therefore, hemmed in as we are on every side in our world of thought, is to study that world in its relation to ourselves--to the standpoint, which from time to time we may occupy; we may not hope to accomplish more, at any one time, at least, than to present truth in one of its aspects; and, thanks to the exhaustless character of truth, from whatever direction we may approach it, we find great centres of thought, around which other truth gathers.

     What, then, if the world of Christian thought, in which I may lead you for a little while, should be somewhat differently constructed, having for its centre a truth, holding in the world of thought in which you are accustomed to move, a different relation, occupying there a subordinate rank, you will not understand me as challenging you for controversy, but simply regard my statement as a view of the same truth so precious to you, but as seen from a different point of outlook. There need be no conflict here.

     What, for instance, if you should see the doctrine of faith as the great central thought of the gospel, as the leading truth of the system of salvation, justification by faith the keynote in the song of redemption, shall I enter into a contest with you? Do I deny the correctness of your statement by studying the truths of the gospel in different relations? Is faith really anything more than a

different form of the same thought expressed by the term sacrifice? Does not the apostle himself; after spending the greater part of his letter in preaching the doctrine of justification by faith, presenting faith as the only remedy for sin, close his argument in the words of the text, ." I beseech you, therefore, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice?" Therefore! Why? Because--so the argument runs--our only hope is in faith, therefore present your bodies a sacrifice; that is, the sacrifice is the faith he is preaching the text--is the climax to his argument--sacrifice is the very embodiment of faith.

     Or what, if I am reminded by one, that the central idea of Christianity is holiness? Will that furnish any material for controversy here? Is there really any essential difference between holiness and sacrifice? "Present your bodies," says the apostle, "a living sacrifice, holy." The sacrifice is holy; the doctrine of sacrifice is the doctrine of holiness. Let the apostle remind us here that there is no other holiness than that of a consecrated life--the holiness of sacrifice.

     If any one form of truth might claim the exclusive right to the central position in the system of Christian truth, it would be that represented by the term "love;" but even love, so constantly held up before us as the "end of the commandment," the purpose and scope of all law, represented as the very central power that holds together the Christian world, the "bond of perfectness;" what is love but this same principle of sacrifice? If the whole law is comprehended in the one word "love," it is because love and sacrifice are, practically speaking, identical; the one term expresses the Christian life as an emotional experience, the other views it from the practical standpoint--sees love as reaching out toward its object, going out on its errands of sympathy. As in the Eternal Godhead the Son, the sacrifice of the Father, is but "God manifest in the flesh," as the "Lamb slain from the foundation of the world," is but the reaching out of the love dwelling in the bosom of the Father, eternal love coming down, embodying itself in the flesh, to accomplish its work of human redemption, so all Christian sacrifice is but the sympathy of the heart transformed into action: the two are one. And so we may go through the vocabulary of theologic forms of speech, and everywhere, I think, we shall read the essential unity of Christian truth and religious experience. The

theologian may dissect the Christian life; he may presume to analyze and reduce to its elements the body of Christian truth, but we must ever remember that these distinctions exist only in the mind, expressing various forms of thought; these different terms we employ to express certain relations, to clothe our particular forms of thought, in their last analysis express the same idea.

     Permit me, then, to place myself on the standpoint fixed for me by the text, and present to you the system of Christian truth as seen from this point of outlook: and, surveying the field from this centre of vision, we shall behold the Christian life as essentially a sacrifice; we shall see all revelation centering, so to speak, in this one idea. "Whosoever does not bear his cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple." The cross, the symbol of sacrifice, is at once laid down by our Lord as the test of Christian character. So, casting our vision over Revelation, we can trace the historical development of this idea in the Scriptures, for we must not suppose that this doctrine is peculiar to the New Testament. As "Christ is the end of the law;" as Christianity is but the completing--filling out, of the Old covenant, so we shall not be disappointed when we look for the same principles under the Mosaic economy. The law contains the germ of which the Gospel is the unfolding; indeed, we find this idea of sacrifice before the law, it runs back to the origin of man. The first formal act of worship on record was a sacrifice. "Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering unto the Lord, Abel brought of the firstlings of his flock, and of the fat thereof." o, as we follow the history of worship, we find it a history of sacrifices. We see Noah coming out of the ark. At once he builds an altar unto the Lord; he takes of every cean (sic) beast, and of every clean fowl, and offers burnt offerings on, the altar. We find Abram calling upon the name of the Lord, building altars, and offering sacrifices. When the Lord appears to him, promising to make him "a great nation," to make his "seed as the stars of heaven," we find that promise accompanied with the request to sacrifice before him. Abram places the sacrifice before the Lord. "And it came to pass that when the sun went down, and it was dark, behold, a smoking furnance and a burning lamp.   *   *   *   And the Lord made a covenant with Abram saying, Unto thy seed have I given this land, from the river of Egypt unto the great river, the river Euphrates." That covenant

was made at the altar, amidst the smoke of the sacrifice. We may follow, Abraham's history, and we find it a record of sacrifice. From the time when Jehovah appeared to him, ordering him to leave his home and serve him in a strange hind, "Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house,. unto a land that I will show thee," it was a life of sacrifice--first his home, his country, the associations of his youth, everything near and dear to him, even his son, his only son Isaac--all is sacrificed, given up to God.

     But we must look at the Mosaic dispensation to see this idea comprehensively stated, and this principle reduced to system; the worship of the Jew under the law was emphatically a worship of sacrifice. The very inauguration of the covenant was a service of sacrifice. Moses builds an altar, and twelve pillars, to represent the twelve tribes; and after reading to the people the "book of the covenant," and the people ratifying it by promising obedience, "All that the Lord hath commanded will we do and be obedient;" Moses takes of the blood of the sacrifices offered on the occasion, sprinkles it upon the people, saying, "Behold the blood of the covenant, which the Lord hath made with you." That covenant, made at the foot of Mount Sinai, is a covenant of blood, symbolizing the sacrifice demanded of the Jew.

     The idea of Jewish sacrifice is, however, complex; the truth represented by that system of symbols is many-sided.

     The sacrifice of the Jew may be regarded as a prayer. This aspect is brought out by the incense burnt on the golden altar before the mercy-seat, symbolizing by its ascending odors the prayer of the Jew reaching the throne of Jehovah. The Psalmist makes a beautiful allusion to it: "Let my prayer be set forth before thee as incense."

      In the burnt-offering we have brought before us the constancy of acceptable worship. Two lambs are to be offered "day by day continually, one lamb in the morning, another in the evening." "The fire shall ever be burning upon the altar: it shall never go out."

     We look at the sin and trespass offerings, and we learn the doctrine of the atonement; propitiation for sin is here the prominent idea.

     In the sacrifices of the leper and other unclean persons, we have

brought to view the cleansing power of the atonement; religion is a process of purification.

     The meat offering is an expression of gratitude.

     Then, again, we have often brought out to view the idea of holiness: the sacrifice offered must be without blemish to be acceptable.

     It would be impossible for me to-day to follow out these various ideas: the sacrifices of the Jew were to him great picture lessons, teaching him the primary truths of theology.

     There is one idea, however, which is common to all these various forms of sacrifices. It is this: the Jew must give. "Ye shall be a kingdom of priests unto me," and "a priest must have somewhat to offer." The worship of the Jew is to cost him something; that elaborate system of Jewish sacrifice is an expensive one.

     This is, indeed, the characteristic feature of the whole Mosaic economy; it instituted the most costly system of worship the world has ever seen. To begin with: just think of the support of a whole tribe for the purpose of ministering at the altar and doing the work of the sanctuary. One-tenth of all the produce of the land; one-tenth of the herds and flocks is required of the Jew for their support. "Behold, I have given the children of Levi all the tenth in Israel for an inheritance, for their service, which they serve, the service of the tabernacle of the congregation."

     But this is but the beginning of the expense. Another tenth is to be added to this for the celebration of the great feasts. "Thou shalt truly tithe all the increase of thy seed that the field bringeth forth year by year. And thou shalt eat before the Lord thy God in the place which he shall choose to put his name there, the tithe of thy corn, of thy wine, and of thine oil, and the firstlings of thy herds, and of thy flocks."

     Another tenth, we are told, is to be added to this once in three years, to enable the poor to celebrate the feasts.

     Now add to these public sacrifices, offered by the Jew in his national capacity, the numerous special offerings required of the people individually for different purposes--as atonements for sin, as trespass--offerings, for putting away the many forms of legal impurity often unavoidable to the Jew; the half shekel poll-tax for the service of the sanctuary; add to it the payment of vows; add the first fruits of all his produce which the Jew must give; add the

first four years' crop of the orchard; for the first three years after the orchard begins to bear, the fruit is to be regarded as uncircumcised; "It shall not be eaten of. But in the fourth year the fruit thereof shall be holy to praise the Lord." Not before the fifth year might the Jew appropriate any of the fruit to his own use. Add to this all the firstborn, both of man and beast, which must be offered in kind or redeemed with money; and various other expenses connected with his worship, and you see at once, that it will be no exaggeration to say, that one-half of the Jew's property was used up every year for purposes of worship.

     But the law did not stop here. It disposed not only of his property, but also of his time. To attend to such an elaborate ceremonial as the Jewish Ritual requires time. As it employed a whole tribe to do the service of the tabernacle, so it kept the other tribes busy to attend these services and furnish the material required.

     Look at the time specifically set apart for public worship.

     Every seventh day is the regular Sabbath, and the strict injunction of the law is to "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. Six days thou shalt labor and do all thy work. But the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, nor thy maid-seavant (sic), nor thy cattle, nor the stranger that is within thy gates."

     In addition to this the first day of every new moon is consecrated to public worship.

     Again, every seventh year is required to be kept holy. "Six years thou shalt sow thy field, and six years thou shalt prune thy vineyard and gather in the fruit thereof. But in the seventh year shall be a Sabbath of rest unto the land, a Sabbath for the Lord; thou shalt neither sow thy field nor prune thy vineyard."

      To this is added the year of Jubilee. "And thou shalt number seven sabbaths of years unto thee, seven times seven years; and the space of the seven sabbaths of years shall be unto thee forty and nine years.   *   *   *   And ye shall hallow the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout all the land.   *   *   *   A jubilee shall the fiftieth year be unto you; ye shall not sow, neither reap that which groweth of itself, for it is the jubilee; it shall be holy unto you."

     Nor will our view be complete if we leave out of the account the time spent in the celebration of the great national festivals. "Three times in a year shall all thy males appear before the Lord thy God in the place which he shall choose; in the feast of unleavened bread, and in the feast of weeks, and in the feast of tabernacles; and they shall not appear before the Lord empty." To go up to Jerusalem three times a year to keep these feasts, encumbered with their herds and flocks and produce which they must offer, together with the necessary preparation for such journeys, could consume no less than five or six weeks.

     Add to this the time necessarily consumed in their more private worship, in the various special sacrifices and offerings, and you will see that half of his time would scarcely be sufficient to the Jew for the work, directly or indirectly connected with his worship, and you will begin to appreciate somewhat of the meaning of Peter, when he represents the Mosaic law as a yoke, which, he says, "neither our fathers nor we were able to bear." Half of his time required of the Jew to be spent in religious services; and the other half he is asked to use principally in procuring the offerings and sacrifices that he must give to the church and burn upon its altars.

     We shall, of course conclude, that if the Jew prospers under such a system of taxation, he will not only have to study the utmost economy with what little there is left to him, but he will have to hold it with a miserly grasp; but that is just what he is not permitted to do; the law trains him to sympathize with every want, to feel for the needy, to relieve the distressed, to feed the poor, In gathering up his harvest, he is to remember his less favored brethren. "And when ye reap the harvest of your land, thou shalt not wholly reap the corners of thy field, neither shalt thou gather the gleanings of thy harvest." When we bear in mind that the fields of the Jews could not be counted by hundreds of acres, as with us, but consisted of small patches, we shall realize that this law required no small percentage of the crop to be left for the use of the poor. "And thou shalt not glean thy vineyard, neither shalt thou gather every grape of thy vineyard: thou shalt leave them for the poor and stranger: I am the Lord your God." The Jew is to be a man of sympathy; in his very poverty he is to remember the poor. "For the poor shall never cease out of thy

land: therefore I command thee, saying, Thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy in the land." "And when thou cuttest down thine harvest in the field, and hast forgotten a sheaf in the field, thou shalt not go again to fetch it; it shall be for the stranger, for the fatherless, and for the widow.   *   *   *   When thou beatest thine olive tree, thou shalt not go over the boughs again; it shall be for the stranger, for the fatherless, and for the widow.   *   *   *   And thou shalt remember that thou wast a bondman in the land of Egypt: therefore I command thee to do this thing."

     Looking at these facts, we may well ask, how the Jew ever managed to save enough for the necessaries of life? It would seem out of the question to prosper in our sense of the word, and accumulate property; and yet it seems that with all these disadvantages the Jew would sometimes yield to the temptation to get rich, and try to gather up the treasures of this world. But how effectually the vigorous law of Moses clipped the wings of all such worldly ambition! Beyond giving the Jew a competency in life, the law made his property a useless encumbrance. The business maxim with us, "money makes money," did not hold in Jewish society; the law permitted no speculation. The Jew might lend--he was even under obligation to do that--he was not to shut his ear to the cry of distress, but commanded to assist his neighbor. "If thy brother be waxen poor, thou shalt relieve him; yea, though he be a stranger, or a sojourner." But he could receive no compensation for his favor; for "Thou shalt not give him thy money upon usury, nor lend him thy victuals for increase."

      More than that. If the loan for some cause was not returned by the Sabbatical year, the debt was to be cancelled altogether. "At the end of every seven years thou shalt make a release. And this is the manner of the release: every creditor that lendeth unto his neighbor shall release it; he shall not exact it of his neighbor or of his brother, because it is called the Lord's release."

     Did the Jew seek to evade this law by converting his money into other property, so that he would have nothing to lend? The law would defeat him in his scheme, for he was sure to lose his property in the end. If he bought servants, the law would set them at liberty, and the investment was lost. "If thou buy a Hebrew servant, six years he shall serve, and in the seventh year he shall

go out free for nothing." So the jubilee would liberate every slave, for in that year "ye shall proclaim liberty throughout all the land."

     Did he invest in landed property, it might be redeemed at any time; and at best his title would only hold till the jubilee, for the law provides that "the land shall not be sold forever." "In the year of the jubilee ye shall return every man unto his possession." "In the year of the jubilee the field shall return unto him of whom it was bought."

     Such was the religion of the Jew; it required him to give his property, his time, his service; it asked him to give up all hope of material wealth, to relinquish every thought of worldly recompense or reward. Will it be difficult to interpret its meaning, to distinguish the foundation truth of that ancient covenant? "I am the Lord thy God, which brought thee out of the land of Egypt;" the passage standing at the head of the law, gives us the key to its meaning. "The land is mine, for ye are strangers and sojourners with me." " Unto me the children of Israel are servants, they are my servants, whom I brought out of the land of Egypt."

     This is the object of the law, to train the Jew to the realization of the fact that he is not his own, that whatever he may possess is the absolute property of Jehovah, and must be so regarded. "The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof." God is proprietor; man is servant. The Jew had nothing that he might call his own; he was simply a steward of Jehovah, a distributor of the Lord's goods. If I were asked to sum up the religion of the Jew in one idea, I should say that to be the idea of absolute, unqualified surrender to God. To me the Mosaic system appears one vast symbol of sacrifice, representing to the Jew a fall, entire, and practical consecration of himself, soul and body, to the work of the church.

     Such is the teaching of that law which the apostle represents as the pedagogue leading to Christ; of that covenant which our Lord came to complete. "Think not that I am come to destroy the law and the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill," i. e., to fill out, to render complete, to make perfect.

     Shall we be surprised, therefore, when we find the apostle, unfolding the principles of the gospel, showing that by faith we do not make void the law, but rather establish its truths, demonstrat-

ing the righteousness of faith to be but the realization of the ideal shadowed forth by the works of the law, shall we be surprised, when we find him summing up this righteousness of faith in the very idea which lies beneath every symbol, beneath every enactment of that ancient economy, the idea of sacrifice?

     I am well aware that there appears throughout the apostle's writings a certain attitude of hostility toward the law; how he represents that Old economy as obsolete, and the Christian life as one of a glorious liberty. "Now are we delivered from the law, that being dead wherein we were held." I am well aware, also, of the monstrous misconstruction of those passages of Scripture which represent us as "not under the law, but under grace," how they are made to cover up all manner of selfishness in the church; how they are made an excuse for withholding from the Church everything like practical service, under the plea that there is no law for it--the gospel does not specify. What! shall our sacrifice be less complete, because "we are not under the law, but under grace?" God forbid. "We are delivered from the law," not that our service may cease, but "that we should serve in newness of spirit, and not in the oldness of the letter." The service of the letter is indeed to cease, for "sacrifice and burnt-offerings, and offerings for sin thou wouldst not, but, lo! I come, to do thy will." "He taketh away the first, that he may establish the second." The service of the letter is done away, but only to make room for the higher" ministration of the spirit;" for, "glorious" as was the law, that "ministration of death," so "glorious, that the children of Israel could not steadfastly behold the face of Moses for the glory of his countenance; it had no glory in this respect by reason of the glory which excelleth." The service of the Christian is to exceed that of the Jew. As the borrowed light of the moon pales at the coming of the sun of heaven, so the Christian sacrifice, embodying the enthusiasm of a spiritual life, eclipses by its exceeding glory, the dead drudgery of the formal service compelled by the terror of the law.

      Hence the apostle terms it a living sacrifice, not perhaps contrasting, as commentators intimate, the life of the Christian with the death of the victim burnt on the Jewish altar--for we must bear in mind, that the apostle is not discussing here the symbols of the Jewish Ritual, as in Hebrews--but rather taking in the

whole scope of the law, contrasting its righteousness with that of faith-contrasting the whole Christian life, the sacrifice under the gospel, with the life of the Jew, the sacrifice under the law. The contrast is this: the Jew rendered his service to Jehovah, because driven by the curse of the law. "Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them;" hence that sacrifice, though it included all the Jew had to give, and was, so far as the outward act was concerned, complete, yet, being only a reluctant yielding to a dreaded authority, it was a lifeless performance after all, lacking the vital energy of an indwelling spiritual life; the Christian, on the contrary, gives his service, not because the curse hangs over him, for he is "delivered from the law," the curse is removed; he gives it freely, prompted alone by the constraining power of the "love of Christ."

     Shall then the Christian look for specific enactments of law before confessing his obligation to consecrate himself to the service of the church? Having received the "power of an endless life," shall we look for the "law of a carnal commandment," having "begun in the spirit," expect to be "made perfect in the flesh?" To hang the curse over him whom Christ has made free, would be an insult to Him who has redeemed us; to ask for the authority of law before presenting ourselves a sacrifice is conclusive evidence that we "are fallen from grace, Christ is become of no effect unto us." The servant of Christ lives in a higher sphere than that of legal bondage; the law of faith under which he acts, is "not written on tables of stone," but in the "fleshly tables" of his " heart;" to him the "Word is made flesh," the letter transformed into spirit; his service is an inspiration of life, a "living sacrifice."

     Such is the ideal of the religion of Christ. It asks us to make a full consecration of our life to the service of Christ; it asks a complete giving up of ourselves to the work of the church; it asks us to render this service, not in the spirit of the Jew, because of the threatenings of the law; it asks us to give it in the spirit of Christ. As our Lord endured the Cross for the "joy that was set before him," so we are to endure the cross for the joys of heaven; we are to make this sacrifice for the joy afforded to us by the salvation of souls, for the glory of the world's redemption.

     How near are we realizing this ideal in our practical life? How far is this principle reduced to actual existence in our church work?

I need not answer this question for you. You give a practical answer to it in the financial report, showing your effort for the evangelization of the world. Your Missionary contribution is the measure of your sacrifice.

     You will perhaps protest, reminding me of many other expenses borne by you during the year, which in the aggregate might be counted by the tens of thousands. I have not forgotten them; I well know that you have spent a great deal of money aside from your Missionary contribution, in building churches and parsonages and keeping up other current expenses of the church; but I see so much in all that which simply represents your own personal wants, that I should have to confess myself at a loss, if called upon to say, how much of it really expresses the spirit of sacrifice on your part. What, if you have built some churches during the year, have you not built them for your own accommodation? If it would be improper to set down as a sacrifice to your credit the cost of your private residences, shall we count as a sacrifice the cost of the houses you have built that you might spend the hour of public worship in physical comfort? Is it not all for your own convenience? And what, if you have given a comfortable support to the men that have stood in your pulpits during the year, in doing so, have you "done more than others? Do not even the publicans the same?" Do not even worldly men pay for the labor done for them? All these are necessary expenditures, and undoubtedly contain much that is laudable and reflects credit on you, but it can hardly be said that they embody much of the spirit of sacrifice.

     There is really nothing in the life of the church that so nearly expresses the exact measure of Christian sacrifice as our activity in reaching out to the perishing millions the bread of life. We may never indeed be able to measure accurately this activity, and express it in dollars and cents; but you may sum up all we are doing for the cause of missions, directly and indirectly, and after placing our efforts for the evangelization of the world in the strongest light, after presenting the case in its brightest colors, I would ask you, are our efforts at all in keeping with our obligations? do they reach, even approximately, the possibilities within our reach?

      "Go ye out into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." We have the command of the Lord of Hosts to push

out for the conquest of the world; and how are we responding? Instead of passing our forces to the front, ordering them forward to the assault, are we not rather employing them as an army of occupation, holding the forts, occupying the country in the rear? Our few missionaries, scattered along the frontier and sent to foreign lands, what are they, compared with all the forces of Methodism in the field? Scarcely a respectable skirmish line, out of all just proportion.

     What then? Do I charge our leaders with mismanagement, with an improper disposition of the forces under their control? By no means. No men can be spared here. We are all too well acquainted with the wants of our work at home, not to know, that many more might be employed with advantage. But if we need such forces at home, with all the advantages of a Christian civilization in our favor, what must not our necessities be in the front, opposed to all the powers of heathen darkness? How much more do we need a stronger force of missionaries? And why do we not have it? There is but one answer, and that is clearly indicated in our financial reports--the supply is wanting, the church is not furnishing the sinews of war.

     I do not depreciate the work that we have accomplished and are doing. We have, no doubt, already done a great work, considering it in itself; and one, possessing the art of graphic description, might easily group the historic facts of our Missionary work, so as to produce emotions of pleasure, and make us feel like congratulating ourselves on the results accomplished. Neither do I say that our work is insignificant compared with that of other branches of the Christian church. It must be said to the credit of Methodism, that it has ever been found in the front in the work of evangelization. From the time when John Wesley started out with the motto, "The world for my parish," the zeal and fervor of Christian evangelism has ever characterized his followers; it has ever presented to the world a distinctive feature in the history of Methodism. No; compared with the efforts of others, we have no occasion to blush; we might even with satisfaction, perhaps with a pardonable pride, point to our record; but we are admonished by the apostle, that to measure ourselves by ourselves, and compare ourselves among ourselves, is not a wise course.

     No, brethren, it would be very unprofitable for us to stand here

congratulating ourselves and going into ecstasies, because we have done as much, and even more, than our neighbors. There is but one true standard by which Christian work can be measured--the standard of the gospel, which requires a complete sacrifice of all to the one work of the church, the evangelization of the world; ability is the measure of duty, and tested by that standard, we must confess our unfaithfulness, weighed in the balance of Revelation, we are found wanting.

     There must be causes for this our shortcoming. Whatever other causes, which readily enough suggest themselves to your mind, contribute to this result, there is one of them that I must lay at the feet of the ministry. We are failing to teach our people their true relation to the church and its work, that our Lord calls for all our energies, that the sacrifice he demands, includes our substance, our talents, our time, our all.

     It may seem arrogant in me, perhaps, to make such a statement in this presence, to charge you with a failure to teach the doctrine of entire consecration, to make such a charge right in the face of the well pronounced position of the Methodist Church on this point. Is not, you will ask, this doctrine of entire consecration one of the distinguishing features of our creed, the very crowning glory of Methodist theology? Our theory on this point is undoubtedly correct and Scriptural; but, I ask, are we presenting it in its full scope? are we exhibiting, as we ought, this doctrine in its practical phases? That its practical duties are occasionally preached, I do not deny, but are we insisting upon them with an emphasis that would compel a practical recognition?

      We cannot shut our eyes to the fact that our people, too generally, have a one-sided view of the Christian life, thinking its duties to pertain principally to the sanctuary, to consist in prayer, praise, and experience--meetings, in engaging in devotional service to stimulate their religious sensibilities, to gratify the emotional nature, and realize in the highest degree possible the consciousness of spiritual communion; in other words, the joy of a religious experience is the prevailing conception of the Christian life.

     I say, this is a one-sided view--not a false view--it contains a glorious truth; and the type of Christian character that has grown up under the preaching of this truth is immeasurably in advance of that prevailing at the time" of the advent of Methodism, when

a simple assent of the intellect to certain formulated truths was regarded as a sufficient test of godliness. But while the Wesleyan movement must be credited with raising the Christian world out of its dead formalism, with breathing into the church the living impulse of a religious experience, the breath of a conscious, spiritual life, the work of Methodism will not be complete until it has led the church to perfection. Glorious as is the consciousness of sin forgiven, glorious as is the experience of a pure heart, of peace with God, of joy unspeakable and full of glory, there is in the development of the Christian character an experience still higher than this--it is the experience of brotherly love; it is the experience of that sympathy, that pity, that leads us to the Cross, to sacrifice ourselves for the salvation of our race. Here, in the experience of the Cross, the Christian life culminates. The scene on the Mount of Transfiguration did not save the world; not until our Lord had endured the Cross, attained the experience of Calvary, could he say, "It is finished." The sacrifice is the lever raising the world from its degradation.

     Will you reply, that this experience of brotherly love is included in the work of regeneration? I readily admit, I even insist, that it exists there in the germ; but that germ must be unfolded, bear fruit, be transformed into the sacrifice, before it is proper to ascribe to it a real, living existence. The sacrifice is the only test for "who so hath this world's goods, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion, how dwelleth the love of God in him?" Are not our brethren reaching out unto us for the bread of life? Are they not perishing, going down into the pit before our eyes? And have we not the means to save them? The only thing that is lacking is the real spirit of sacrifice.

     Let us preach the Cross as a religious experience; and while such preaching will be a stumbling-block to some--for they love their money--and while it may seem foolishness to others, we have the assurance of Inspiration, that it is the power of God unto salvation. Let us raise the church to that height, where, instead of the emotional experience of sin pardoned, the higher experience of the Cross shall become the practically accepted type of Christian life; when we shall come before the Lord, presenting the sacrifice, not only of the emotional nature, but when in addition we shall present our bodies a sacrifice, i. e., when our religion shall not only

be a sentiment, expending itself principally in emotions and ecstasies, when on the contrary, the practical shall become the dominant idea; and we may hail that advance movement in the experience of the church as the beginning of the end--the problem of human redemption will be near its practical solution; we may hail it as the dawning of the day when Christ shall reign King of kings and Lord of lords. May God help us to hasten that day.

© 2003 for the NEGenWeb Project by Pam Rietsch, Ted & Carole Miller.