“They loved the praise of men more than the praise of God.
“—John xii. 43.
This is spoken of the chief rulers of the Jews, who, though they
believed in Christ's Divine mission, were afraid to confess Him, lest
they should incur temporal loss and shame from the Pharisees. The
censure passed by St. John on these persons is too often applicable to
Christians at the present day; perhaps, indeed, there is no one among
us who has not at some time or other fallen under it. We love the good
opinion of the world more than the approbation of Him who created us,
redeemed us, has regenerated us, and who still preserves to us the
opportunity of preparing ourselves for His future presence. Such is too
often the case with us. It is well we should be aware that it is so; it
is well we should dwell upon it, and that we should understand and feel
that it is wrong, which many men do not.
Now it is an obvious question, Why is it wrong to love the praise of
men? For it may be objected, that we are accustomed to educate the
young by means of praise and blame; that we encourage them by kind
words from us, that is, from man; and punish them for
disobedience. If, then, it may be argued, it is right to regard the
opinions of others concerning us in our youth, it cannot be in itself
wrong to pay attention to it at any other period of life. This is true;
but I do not say that the mere love of praise and fear of shame are
evil: regard to the corrupt world's praise or blame, this is what is
sinful and dangerous. St. John, in the text, implies that the praise of
men was, at the time spoken of, in opposition to the praise of God. It
must be wrong to prefer any thing to the will of God. To seek praise is
in itself as little wrong, as it is wrong to hope, and to fear, and to
love, and to trust; all depends upon the object hoped, or feared, or
loved, or trusted; to seek the praise of good men is not wrong, any
more than to love or to reverence good men; only wrong when it is in
excess, when it interferes with the exercise of love and reverence
towards God. Not wrong while we look on good men singly as instruments
and servants of God; or, in the words of Scripture, while “we glorify
God in them[1].” But to seek the praise of bad men, is in itself as
wrong as to love the company of bad men, or to admire them. It is not,
I say, merely the love of praise that is a sin, but love of the corrupt
world's praise. This is the case with all our natural feelings and
affections; they are all in themselves good, and implanted by God; they
are sinful, because we have in us by nature a something more than them,
viz. an evil principle which perverts them to a bad end. Adam, before
his fall, felt, we may suppose, love, fear, hope, joy, dislike, as we
do now; but then he felt them only when he ought, and as he ought; all
was harmoniously attempered and rightly adjusted in his soul, which was
at unity with itself. But, at the fall, this beautiful order and peace
was broken up; the same passions remained, but their use and action
were changed; they rushed into extremes, sometimes excessive, sometimes
the reverse. Indignation was corrupted into wrath, self-love became
selfishness, self-respect became pride, and emulation envy and
jealousy. They were at variance with each other; pride struggled with
self-interest, fear with desire. Thus his soul became a chaos, and
needed a new creation. Moreover, as I have said, his affections were
set upon unsuitable objects. The natural man looks to this world, the
world is his god; faith, love, hope, joy, are not excited in his mind
by things spiritual and divine, but by things seen and temporal.
Considering, then, that love of praise is not a bad principle in
itself, it is plain that a parent may very properly teach his child to
love his praise, and fear his blame, when that praise and blame are
given in accordance with God's praise and blame, and made subservient
to them. And, in like manner, if the world at large took a correct and
religious view of things, then its praise and blame would in its place
be valuable too. Did the world admire what God admires; did it account
humility, for instance, a great virtue, and pride a great sin; did it
condemn that spirit of self-importance and sensitiveness of disgrace,
which calls itself a love of honour; did it think little of temporal
prosperity, wealth, rank, grandeur, and power, did it condemn arrogant
and irreverent disputing, the noisy, turbulent spirit of ambition, the
love of war and conquest, and the perverse temper which leads to
jealousy and hatred; did it prefer goodness and truth to gifts of the
intellect; did it think little of quickness, wit, shrewdness, power of
speech and general acquirements, and much of patience, meekness,
gentleness, firmness, faith, conscientiousness, purity, forgiveness of
injuries,—then there would be no sin in our seeking the world's
praise; and though we still ought to love God's praise above all, yet
we might love the praise of the world in its degree, for it would be
nothing more nor less than the praise of good men. But since, alas! the
contrary is the case, since the world (as Scripture tells us) “lieth in
wickedness,” and the principles and practices which prevail on all
sides of us are not those which the All-holy God sanctions, we cannot
lawfully seek the world's praise. We cannot serve two masters who are
enemies the one to the other. We are forbidden to love the world or any
thing that is of the world, for it is not of the Father, but passeth
away.
This is the reason why it is wrong to pursue the world's praise;
viz. because we cannot have it and God's praise too. And yet, as the
pursuit of it is wrong, so is it common,—for this reason: because God
is unseen, and the world is seen; because God's praise and blame are
future, the world's are present; because God's praise and blame are
inward, and come quietly and without keenness, whereas the world's are
very plain and intelligible, and make themselves felt.
Take, for instance, the case of the young, on (what is called)
entering into life. Very many, indeed, there are, whether in a higher
or lower station, who enter into the mixed society of others early; so
early, that it might be thought they had hardly had time to acquire any
previous knowledge of right and wrong, any standard of right and wrong,
other than the world gives, any principles by which to fight against
the world. And yet it cannot quite be so. Whatever is the first time
persons hear evil, it is quite certain that good has been beforehand
with them, and they have a something within them which tells them it is
evil. And much more, if they have been blessed, as most men are, with
the protection of parents, or the kind offices of teachers or of God's
ministers, they generally have principles of duty more or less strongly
imprinted on their minds; and on their first intercourse with strangers
they are shocked or frighted at seeing the improprieties and sins,
which are openly countenanced. Alas! there are persons, doubtless
(though God forbid it should be the case with any here present!), whose
consciences have been so early trained into forgetfulness of religious
duties, that they can hardly, or cannot at all, recollect the time I
speak of; the time when they acted with the secret feeling that God saw
them, saw all they did and thought. I will not fancy this to be the
case with any who hear me. Rather, there are many of you, in different
ranks and circumstances, who have, and ever have had, general
impressions on your minds of the claims which religion has on you, but,
at the same time, have been afraid of acting upon them, afraid of the
opinion of the world, of what others would say if you set about obeying
your conscience. Ridicule is a most powerful instrument in the hands of
Satan, and it is most vividly felt by the young. If any one wishes to
do his duty, it is most easy for the cold, the heartless, and the
thoughtless, to find out harsh, or provoking, or ridiculous names to
fix upon him. My brethren, so many of you as are sensitive of the
laughter or contempt of the world, this is your cross; you must wear
it, you must endure it patiently; it is the mark of your conformity to
Christ; He despised the shame: you must learn to endure it, from the
example and by the aid of your Saviour. You must love the praise of God
more than the praise of men. It is the very trial suited to you,
appointed for you, to establish you in the faith. You are not tempted
with gain or ambition, but with ridicule. And be sure, that unless you
withstand it, you cannot endure hardships as good soldiers of Jesus
Christ, you will not endure other temptations which are to follow. How
can you advance a step in your after and more extended course till the
first difficulty is overcome? You need faith, and “a double-minded
man,” says St. James, “is unstable in all his ways.” Moreover, be not
too sure that all who show an inclination to ridicule you, feel exactly
as they say. They speak with the loudest speaker; speak you boldly, and
they will speak with you. They have very little of definite opinion
themselves, or probably they even feel with you, though they speak
against you. Very likely they have uneasy, unsatisfied consciences,
though they seem to sin so boldly; and are as afraid of the world as
you can be, nay, more so; they join in ridiculing you, lest others
should ridicule them; or they do so in a sort of self-defence against
the reproaches of their own consciences. Numbers in this bad world talk
loudly against religion in order to encourage each other in sin,
because they need encouragement. They are cowards, and rely on each
other for support against their fears. They know they ought to be other
than they are, but are glad to avail themselves of any thing that looks
like argument, to overcome their consciences withal. And ridicule is a
kind of argument—such as it is; and numbers ridiculing together are a
still stronger one—of the same kind. Any how, there are few indeed who
will not feel afterwards, in times of depression or alarm, that you are
right, and they themselves are wrong. Those who serve God faithfully
have a friend of their own, in each man's bosom, witnessing for them;
even in those who treat them ill. And I suppose no young person has
been able, through God's mercy, to withstand the world's displeasure,
but has felt at this time or that, that this is so, and in a little
time will, with all humility, have the comfort of feeling it while he
is withstanding the world.
But now supposing he has not had strength of mind to withstand the
world; but has gone the way of the world. Suppose he has joined the
multitude in saying and doing what he should not. We know the careless,
thoughtless, profane habits which most men live in, making light of
serious subjects, and being ashamed of godliness and virtue; ashamed of
going to church regularly, ashamed of faith, ashamed of chastity,
ashamed of innocence, ashamed of obedience to persons in authority.
Supposing a person has been one of these, and then through God's grace
repents. It often pleases God, in the course of His Providence, to
rouse men to reflection by the occurrences of life. In such
circumstances they certainly will have a severe trial to stand against
the world. Nothing is more painful in the case of such persons, than
the necessity often imposed upon them of acting contrary to the opinion
and wishes of those with whom they have till now been intimate,—whom
they have admired and followed. Intimacies have already been formed,
and ties drawn tight, which it is difficult to sever. What is the
person in question to do? rudely to break them at once? no. But is he
to share in sins in which he formerly took part? no; whatever censure,
contempt, or ridicule attaches to him in consequence. But what, then,
is he to do? His task, I say, is painful and difficult, but he must not
complain, for it is his own making; it is the natural consequence of
his past neglect of God. So much is plain,—he must abstain from all
sinful actions; not converse lightly or irreverently where formerly he
was not unwilling so to do; not spend his time, as heretofore, in
idleness or riot; avoid places whither he is not called by actual duty,
which offer temptation to sin; observe diligently attendance on church;
not idle away the Lord's Day in vanity, or worse; not add to the number
of his acquaintance any thoughtless persons. All this is quite plain,
and in doing this I know he will incur the ridicule of his companions.
He will have much to bear. He must bear to be called names, to be
thought a hypocrite, to be thought to be affecting something out of the
way, to be thought desirous of recommending himself to this or that
person. He must be prepared for malicious and untrue reports about
himself; many other trials must he look for. They are his portion. He
must pray God to enable him to bear them meekly. He must pray for
himself, he must pray for those who ridicule him. He has deserved
ridicule. He has nothing to boast of, if he bears it well. He has
nothing to boast of that he incurs it. He has nothing to boast of, as
if he were so much better than those who ridicule him; he was once as
they are now. He is now just a little better than they are. He has just
begun a new life. He has got a very little way in it, or rather no way,
nothing beyond professing it; and he has the reproach of the world in
consequence of his profession. Well, let him see to it that this
reproach is not in vain, that he has a right to the reproach. Let him
see to it that he acts as well as professes. It will be miserable
indeed if he incurs the reproach, and yet does not gain the reward. Let
him pray God to perfect in him what He has begun in him, and to begin
and perfect it also in all those that reproach him. Let him pray for
Christ's grace to bear hardships in Christ's spirit; to be able to look
calmly in the world's face, and bear its frown; to trust in the Lord,
and be doing good; to obey God, and so to be reproached, not for
professing only, but for performing, not for doing nothing, but for
doing something, and in God's cause. If we are under reproach, let us
have something to show for it. At present, such a one is but a child in
the Gospel; but in time, St. Peter's words will belong to him, and he
may appropriate them. “This is thankworthy, if a man for conscience
towards God endure grief, suffering wrongfully. For what glory is it,
if when ye be buffeted for your faults ye shall take it patiently? but
if, when ye do well and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is
acceptable with God.”
What happens to the young in one way, and to penitent sinners in
another, happens in one way or other to all of us. In the case of all
of us occasions arise, when practices countenanced by others do not
approve themselves to our consciences. If after serious thought we find
we cannot acquiesce in them, we must follow our consciences, and stand
prepared for the censure of others. We must submit (should it be
unavoidable) to appear to those who have no means of understanding us,
self-willed, or self-conceited, or obstinate, or eccentric, or
headstrong, praying the while that God's mercy may vouchsafe to us,
that we be not really what we seem to the world.
Some are exposed to a temptation of a different kind, that of making
themselves seem more religious than they really are. It may happen,
that to advocate right opinions may be profitable to our worldly
interests, and be attended by the praise of men. You may ask, since in
such cases God and man approve the same thing, why should the applause
of the world be accounted dangerous then? I answer, it is dangerous
because God requires of us a modest silence in our religion; but we
cannot be religious in the eyes of men without displaying religion. I
am now speaking of display. God sees our thoughts without our help, and
praises them; but we cannot be praised by men without being seen
by men: whereas often the very excellence of a religious action,
according to our Saviour's precept, consists in the not being seen by
others. This is a frequent cause of hypocrisy in religion. Men begin by
feeling as they should feel, then they think it a very hard thing that
men should not know how well they feel, and in course of time they
learn to speak without feeling. Thus they have learned to “love the
praise of men more than the praise of God.”—We have to guard against
another danger, against the mistake of supposing that the world's
despising us is a proof that we are particularly religious; for this,
too, is often supposed. Frequently it happens that we encumber our
religion with extravagances, perversions, or mistakes, with which
religion itself has no necessary connexion, and these, and not
religion, excite the contempt of the world. So much is this the case,
that the censure of numbers, or of the sober-minded, or of various and
distinct classes of men, or censure consistently urged, or continued
consistently, ought always to lead a man to be very watchful as to what
he considers right to say or do in the line of duty, to lead him to
examine his principles; to lead him, however thoroughly he adheres to
these after all, to be unaffectedly humble about himself, and to
convince him in matter of fact (what he might be quite sure of
beforehand, from the nature of the case), that, however good his
principles are in themselves, he is mixing up with them the alloy of
his own frail and corrupt nature.
In conclusion, I would say to those who fear the world's censure,
this:—
1. Recollect you cannot please all parties, you must disagree with
some or other: you have only to choose (if you are determined to look
to man) with which you will disagree. And, further, you may be sure
that those who attempt to please all parties, please fewest; and that
the best way to gain the world's good opinion (even if you were set
upon this, which you must not be) is to show that you prefer the praise
of God. Make up your mind to be occasionally misunderstood, and
undeservedly condemned. You must, in the Apostle's words, go through
evil report, and good report, whether on a contracted or a wider field
of action. And you must not be anxious even for the praise of good men.
To have, indeed, the approbation of those whose hearts are guided by
God's Holy Spirit, is indeed much to be coveted. Still this is a world
of discipline, not of enjoyment; and just as we are sometimes bound in
duty to abstain from indulgences of sense in themselves innocent, so
are we sometimes bound to deny ourselves the satisfaction derived from
the praise even of the religious and conscientious. Only let us beware
in all this, lest we act from pride and self-conceit.
2. In the next place, think of the multitude of beings, who, unseen
themselves, may yet be surveying our conduct. St. Paul charges Timothy
by the elect Angels[2]; and elsewhere he declares that the Apostles
were made “a spectacle unto the world, and to Angels, and to men[3].”
Are we then afraid to follow what is right, lest the world should
scoff? rather let us be afraid not to follow it, because God sees us,
and Christ, and the holy Angels. They rejoice over one sinner that
repenteth; how must they mourn over those who fall away! What interest,
surely, is excited among them, by the sight of the Christian's trial,
when faith and the desire of the world's esteem are struggling in his
heart for victory! what rejoicing if, through the grace of God, he
overcomes! what sorrow and pity if he is overcome by the world!
Accustom yourselves, then, to feel that you are on a public stage,
whatever your station of life may be, that there are other witnesses to
your conduct besides the world around you; and, if you feel shame of
men, you should much more feel shame in the presence of God, and those
servants of His that do His pleasure.
3. Still further: you fear the judgment of men upon you. What will
you think of it on your death-bed? The hour must come, sooner or later,
when your soul is to return to Him who gave it. Perhaps you will be
sensible of your awful state. What will you then think of the esteem of
the world? will not all below seem to pass away, and be rolled up as a
scroll, and the extended regions of the future solemnly set themselves
before you? Then how vain will appear the applause or blame of
creatures, such as we are, all sinners and blind judges, and feeble
aids, and themselves destined to be judged for their deeds. When, then,
you are tempted to dread the ridicule of man, throw your mind forward
to the hour of death. You know what you will then think of it, if you
are then able to think at all.
4. The subject is not exhausted. You fear shame; well, and will you
not shrink from shame at the judgment-seat of Christ? There will be
assembled all the myriads of men who ever lived, a vast multitude!
There will be Apostles, prophets, martyrs, and all saints from the
beginning of time. There will be all the good men you ever heard of or
knew. There will be your own kindest and best friends, your pious
parents, or brothers, or children. Now what think you of being put to
shame before all these? You fear the contempt of one small circle of
men; what think you of the Saints of God, of St. Mary, of St. Peter and
St. Paul, of the ten thousand generations of mankind, being witnesses
of your disgrace? You dread the opinion of those whom you do not love;
but what if a father then shrink from a dear son, or the wife, or
husband, your earthly companion, then tremble at the sight of you, and
feel ashamed of you? Nay, there is One greater than parents, husbands,
or brothers; One of whom you have been ashamed on earth; and what will
He, that merciful, but neglected Saviour, think of you then? Hear His
own words:—“Whosoever shall be ashamed of Me and of My words, of him
shall the Son of Man be ashamed, when He shall come in His own glory,
and in His Fathers, and of the holy Angels.” Then such unhappy men, how
will they feel shame at themselves! they will despise and loathe
themselves; they will hate and abominate their own folly; they will
account themselves brutish and mad, so to have been beguiled by the
devil, and to have trifled with the season of mercy. “Many of them that
sleep in the dust of the earth,” says Daniel, “shall awake, some to
everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.”
Let us, then, rouse ourselves, and turn from man to God; what have
we to do with the world, who from our infancy have been put on our
journey heavenward? Take up your cross and follow Christ. He went
through shame far greater than can be yours. Do you think He felt
nothing when He was lifted up on the Cross to public gaze, amid the
contempt and barbarous triumphings of His enemies, the Pharisees,
Pilate and his Roman guard, Herod and his men of war, and the vast
multitude collected from all parts of the world? They all looked on Him
with hatred and insult, yet He endured (we are told), “despising the
shame[4].” It is a high privilege to be allowed to be conformed to
Christ; St. Paul thought it so, so have all good men. The whole Church
of God, from the days of Christ to the present, has been ever held in
shame and contempt by men of this world. Proud men have reasoned
against its Divine origin; crafty men have attempted to degrade it to
political purposes: still it has lasted for many centuries; it will
last still, through the promised help of God the Holy Ghost; and that
same promise which is made to it first as a body, is assuredly made
also to every one of us who seeks grace from God through it. The grace
of our Lord and Saviour is pledged to every one of us without measure,
to give us all necessary strength and holiness when we pray for it; and
Almighty God tells us Himself, “Fear ye not the reproach of men,
neither be ye afraid of their revilings. For the moth shall eat them up
like a garment, and the worm shall eat them like wool; but My
righteousness shall be for ever, and My salvation from generation to
generation.”
[1] Gal. i. 24.
[2] 1 Tim. v. 21.
[3] 1 Cor. iv. 9.
[4] Heb. xii. 2.