I. THE DOCTRINE.

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From the Epistle. [1]—“How, then, shall they call on Him in Whom they have not believed?—and, How shall they believe in Him of Whom they have not heard?—and, How shall they hear without a preacher?—and, How shall they preach except they be SENT?”—Romans x. 14.

At this season of preparation for the Advent, the Apostolical Ministry is one of the subjects especially brought before us by the Church, as doubtless peculiarly calculated to fit our minds for the right reception and reverent contemplation of our Saviour’s first and second Coming. It would be needless to enlarge on the suitability of the Epistle selected for this Introductory Festival, opening and leading the way, as it does, to those of the whole “glorious company of the Apostles.” We can scarcely read the passage now quoted, without recognizing at once much of its appropriateness. It contains a brief vindication both of the moral necessity and the Divine authority of the Christian Ministry; and so plainly, that, to some extent, all must perceive it. But it may be highly profitable to us to draw out and examine with attention the subject, which St. Paul thus lays before us in epitome only; concerning which we know that there is much diversity of thinking among professing Christians, and, consequently, great danger of wrong thinking.

It is too much the practice of modern theologians to refer to the New Testament, almost as if it were a book of aphorisms; and so, when a quotation is made therefrom, it seems to be inquired, what meaning it will bear; or what use can be made of it; rather than, what meaning it must have had in such a connection; or what use must have been intended, under such circumstances. And hence has resulted this fatal consequence, that the apostolic writings are commonly interpreted by modern opinions, instead of modern opinions being tested by the apostolic writings. There is but too painful evidence of this, in the manner in which some men set about “proving” their peculiar system by the Scriptures; evidently assuming from the first that their system is right, and so (unconsciously, we trust,) sorting and arranging the “best texts” to establish it. Surely an attempt to treat any other ancient book as the Holy Scriptures are thus treated, would not be borne with. Suppose, for example, any disciple of the schools of the modern scepticism should attempt to show, from selected passages of some leading treatise of ancient philosophy, that his own opinions precisely coincided with those of the sage from whom he was quoting; it is evident that he would hereby deceive no one but himself. On a reference to the treatise in question, it would be at once apparent, that it was written by one who held opinions widely different from the modern. Now since, among Christians, there is an universal appeal to the Scriptures, would it not be a rational method of testing the opinions of any of the various classes among us, to inquire, whether it is likely that such writings would have proceeded from the pens of men holding such and such opinions? Might we not thus arrive at as sure a conclusion, notwithstanding all arguments from texts and passages, that some nominally Christian opinions now received, were not the opinions of the sacred writers—as that the opinions of Locke were not the opinions of the ancient Epicureans, notwithstanding the coincidences that might be found? And if it should be seen that any class of opinions exactly harmonizes with the literal writings of the Apostles, so that we may imagine the men who held them to have naturally written what the Apostles wrote; then, should we not have a highly probable argument for the Scriptural character of those opinions? Such an argument will in some degree pervade these Lectures.

Few, perhaps, will fail to perceive some wide difference between that state of mind which is implied by our popular Christianity, and that which is implied by the Apostolic Epistles. The complete unworldliness, the quiet, elevated self-denial, the earnest humility, the obedience on the one hand and authority on the other, which are the evident characteristics of practical Christianity as it appears in the inspired records, are strikingly different from all which we see now in our popular religion; and may at times well suggest the fear that we may have lost much of that faith which the first Christians possessed. And in no particular is this difference more remarkably seen, than in the language held respecting the Ministry of the Church; which from its undeniable importance deserves no light consideration. Of course it may be said, that much of the difference of tone respecting the Ministry may be ascribed to the “cessation of apostolic authority strictly so called.” But however this be, which we pass for the present, it is apparent to all, that there is a difference: and so, men attempt to “account for the fact,” rather than deny it. To account, for example, for the “magnified importance” plainly attributed in Holy Scripture to the living voice of an Apostolic Ministry, above and beyond, and often without reference to other means of Christian instruction. Not only the plea just mentioned, but other similar ones are urged, as the “change of circumstances,” the “alteration in the times,” and the like, to account for the fact. How dangerous all such arguments and evasions are, to those who seek a religion exactly, or as nearly as possible, such as the first Christians had, needs scarcely to be urged on any thoughtful mind. For after all these suppositions and reasonings, it will still remain very possible that The Ministry first Divinely set up in the Church, was not intended essentially to change with the changing circumstances of this world; very possible that this might have been given as one permanent if not paramount means of grace for mankind, notwithstanding the subsequent introduction of other means, however efficacious and invaluable. And then, the actually existing ministry, its historical continuity, its unconcealed pretensions, are facts not to be lightly set aside when viewed in connection with this possibility only; even if it were nothing more. How much of Apostolical grace is lost from the ministry, it may be impossible to say; but so also it would be equally impossible to say how much is retained. Hence, it must ever remain the safest course for a Christian man to adhere to an Apostolically descended Ministry. Let us not pass too hastily from these thoughts; let us follow them out, into minuter detail; in order to enter into the state of mind apparently implied by language such as that in the passage, for instance, which constitutes our text.

Does it not here seem, by St. Paul’s way of putting his questions, leaving them, as it were, to answer themselves in every Christian mind, that they could in his esteem admit of only one answer? That they must conduct people to the inevitable conclusion of the necessity of a Living Ministry? Modern Christianity would easily find other replies; and does so practically. But is there no danger in such a course? No danger in thus assuming the sufficiency of what may be termed literary methods of Christian instruction? nevertheless it is certain, that very often it is assumed. “How shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard?” “By reading the Bible and judging for themselves,” would be the reply of modern Christianity. “How shall they hear without a preacher?” asks the Apostle. And modern believers might truly reply, “We do not see the difficulty—Have we not our Bibles in our hands?” “How shall they preach except they be SENT?” is the inquiry of St. Paul. And, “surely every man who understands his Bible may teach it to another,” might be the ready modern reply. To the Apostle’s mind, on the contrary, such questions seemed to carry with them their own unavoidable answers, establishing beyond controversy the necessity of an authoritative publishing of the truth by living teachers, and those duly sent (ap?sta??s?): nor does the Spirit of inspiration (to whom every future change was known) here give any hint of the future change of this system of teaching.

But further: what St. Paul meant by being “sent,” or “apostolically commissioned,” as well as the high importance which he attached to it, may be gathered from the extreme anxiety with which, at the opening of his Epistles to the Churches, he repeats, and dwells on, the fact of his own apostolical character; which is so conspicuous, that the want of such a preface has sometimes been urged as an argument against his authorship of the Epistle to the Hebrews. [8] “Paul an Apostle of Jesus Christ;” “Paul CALLED to be an Apostle, separated unto the Gospel of God;” “Paul an Apostle not of men, neither by man,” but “by the will of God.” Such are the beginnings of his Epistles. Nor was such an anxiety at all unnatural in him; because his apostolical character was not so regularly derived as that of others, and had been greatly disputed in some churches, and so needed constant vindication: of which the Apostle seemed to be well aware. But, on modern principles, this self-vindicating anxiety is quite unintelligible. It never could have been manifested by St. Paul, if he had only thought, “that every man has a right to be a Christian teacher, whether he has a mission or not, provided he is persuaded of his own ability, and can persuade others of it too.” To one unacquainted with this notion, there certainly would seem to be some powerful difficulty (which others would not see) in this question, “How shall they preach except they be SENT?” And therefore in the next chapter to this which contains these questionings, St. Paul again glances at this topic, and says, “Inasmuch as I am the Apostle (the SENT one) of the Gentiles, I magnify mine OFFICE.” Now, as we have said, it is very easy to reply to all this, that St. Paul’s circumstances were different, and that that will account for the difference of his feelings and language. For even granting this, is it either consistent with a cautious reason, or a Christian humility, to assume in this way, that we are right in differing from St. Paul, provided we can “account for the difference?” Or, supposing that our altered times do account for the difference (as in some sense they do), does it follow that they justify it? Perhaps we may “account for” most of man’s transgressions against God’s law, but does that justify them? But let us keep to the case before us. How can we be so sure, that if in the apostolic days the common people had possessed Bibles, and were able to read them, and, in a word, were outwardly circumstanced in all respects as we are, then St. Paul’s principles, and St. Paul’s exhortations, would have been such as ours now are? Have we any right to say, without proof, that St. Paul assigned such an importance to the teaching of a living ministry, solely because Bibles were not plentiful? Might there not have been other reasons? Consider: is it not very conceivable that there might have been that in Christianity which could only be perfectly conveyed by an institution such as the living ministry?—and which, therefore, without that ministry, would not be attained, even though men possessed every other means? Now, without saying that it is so, and not insisting on the probability of it (arising from the analogy [10] of God’s past dealings with mankind, and from the very nature of our social condition), it is enough to affirm, that it is very possible, very conceivable, that an apostolical ministry might have been made by God the perpetual channel of a grace to man, which might be conveyed in no other way. And the possibility of this ought for ever to restrain us from the rash conclusion, that Christian blessings may be sufficiently attained by private reading of the Bible.—If any are inclined to such a conclusion, by the consideration that possibly the apostolic ministry had a miraculous blessing which no ministry had after the Apostles’ age; so that language well suited to the first generation of the Christian ministers, may not be suitable now; it might be answer enough to point out, that such a supposition remains to be substantiated, and that it must be hazardous to take up with a theory which incurs the risk of realizing on principle only a defective Christianity. But more than this may be briefly added, viz.: That as miraculous power was no peculiarly apostolical prerogative (for all ranks of Christians had possessed it), so neither can the want of it argue a deficiency in apostolic grace and ministration; That the Apostles associated with themselves Timotheus, Silvanus, Epaphroditus [11] and others, as possessing the same Ministry with themselves, though no miraculous gift; and, That if the same ministry be not to continue for ever in the church, then it would follow that “Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world,” has not been literally fulfilled; That the words of Scripture which relate to the Church’s Ministry, must not be understood by us as they certainly were by the first Christians, and, consequently, the plain sense of the Bible is not our guide, as it was theirs so far as they possessed it. And so, finally, our Christianity may be proved at last to come short of the standard of Scripture, and be fatally different in some important points from that which was originally given to the world.Nothing which has now been said is intended to call in question the reality of those blessings which God may and sometimes does bestow apart from His appointed means, or by some only of those means apart from the rest. But enough has surely been said to admonish men against that easy and off-hand way of getting rid of those texts which imply high apostolic power, by saying, that such passages only suit the primitive days and the Apostles’ own ministry. On the other hand, we would not pretend to decide how large an amount of favour may be vouchsafed to those who have not the blessings of a true priesthood. Cornelius, we know, was a just man, and largely acceptable unto God, before he saw St. Peter, or received Christian baptism. Some, again, of the earliest disciples had embraced the truth in some degree, before they had heard “whether there was any Holy Ghost,” or had been baptized in the name of Jesus. And when the Philippian Church was deprived of the ministry of St. Paul, they were still admonished to rely on God’s in-dwelling Spirit in the Church, and “much more in the Apostle’s absence to work out their own salvation.” God may dispense with His own appointed means, and may supply the lack of them; but man cannot. But if it were right to compare, or contrast, one of God’s given means of grace with another, it might perhaps appear that none of them are so essential as the Church’s Ministry, whereby all the rest seem to have been instrumentally preserved. Much which we are too apt think exclusively essential to the existence of Christian truth and purity, had no being in the early Church. It is likely that all essential means of edification would be given to the first generation of believers; and, in fact, was not the most exalted Christian grace possessed in the Church previous to the Christian Scriptures? Whoever will reflect on these points, will at least be prepared seriously to consider, what in primitive days was understood by the ministerial mission to teach,—what the meaning of St. Paul was in such terms as he applied to the ministers of Christ? (as that they were the “sent” servants, “stewards of mysteries,” “ALLOWED of God and PUT IN TRUST with the Gospel,”) and whether that may not be the true Christian meaning still?—whether, notwithstanding the altered times, there may not be as much meaning now as there ever was in the question, “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”

Here it may be rejoined, that there are many who acknowledge the necessity of a Ministry in the Church, and who allow that it ought, in all main particulars, to resemble that of the primitive Christians; nay, who notoriously assign a very high value to such a ministry, as a peculiar means of grace having a peculiar promise of blessing annexed to it, and yet do not acquiesce in the Catholic doctrine concerning it. And would it not be an unfairness to charge such with setting-aside the apostolic ministry? or too little esteeming it? Doubtless, it might be. But yet this rather anomalous circumstance, that men who are generally supposed to be somewhat lax, at least, respecting the subject of an authoritative ministry, should also be often thought to give undue prominence to “the Sermon” of a minister, even beyond other means of grace; this, I say, only renders it the more important that we should understand clearly what men mean by a “ministry” in the Church,—what they consider its real powers and chief functions,—and what its special grace and blessing? For it can hardly be questioned, that many think that they believe in a Christian ministry, when they are only believing in a particular minister;—think that they are believing in a MINISTRY, when they are only believing in eloquence. Many make free use of words, when they would shrink from the ideas which they naturally convey; and ascribe a degree of blessing to a ministry, which in strictness of speech they would never think of seriously attributing to any such cause. And it cannot serve the interests of truth to smooth over really different opinions, by generalized expressions, just “for the sake of peace.” The truth is, there is the greatest possible vagueness of belief, or rather opinion, respecting the Christian Ministry, in our times and country especially. There is, perhaps very generally, an indistinct impression, that something is required to make a man “a minister of the Gospel;” but what it is, very few would be ready to say: and this may be well looked on as a sort of instinctive testimony of the human mind to the felt truth, “that it is not lawful for any man,” on the mere suggestion of his own thoughts, to stand forth as a teacher of religion. Common sense seems thus to make the inquiry, “How shall they preach except they be SENT?”

It is felt universally, that a teacher of religion should have some credentials. The most illiterate, indeed, will often take the word of any man of outwardly respectable appearance, who can manage, with the mixture of a few Scripture phrases, to talk in an incomprehensible way, and look upon him directly as a “minister.” The extent of this implicit faith among some classes of sectaries is almost incredible to those who have not personally witnessed it. But yet even these will clothe their ministers with spiritual powers; and believe their ministrations to convey a grace, and to possess a primitive and apostolical value, such as those very “ministers,” if pressed, would formally disown. Hence many persons of these sects are violently shocked, when we deny the validity of their sacraments as the sure channels of God’s grace; little thinking that their own ministers do not suppose them to be so. And so also the multitude of sects which flourished in this country during the time of the Great Rebellion, owed much of their success to their unscrupulous assertions of a “divine mission;” persuading the people that theirs was the “discipline of Christ;” and alleging a “divine right” for every part of it. And yet, notwithstanding this feeling planted in our very nature, that a spiritual ministry must have a spiritual origin, it is astonishing to see the facility with which almost any professed teacher is received. Just as mere ignorance inclines the most illiterate, so the better classes are induced, by indolence or habit, to receive almost any man as a religious instructor. “How their minister became a minister?” is a question which seems hardly to have occurred to the majority of people. If a man has only ability enough to obtain a congregation and a chapel, and especially if he assumes the outward appearance and style of a clergyman, and is thought a “respectable man,” nothing more is generally inquired. But can this satisfy any one who thinks seriously? The Bible describes the Christian Minister in a very solemn way, as the “Savour of life or death” to souls—as being an earthly vessel possessed of a “Heavenly TREASURE,” the weight whereof he was not sufficient to bear! and so, to the first Minister of the Church it was said, “What thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven;”—Whatever this mysterious language implies, are we to take a man to be all this on his own bare word? or on the ground of his personal talents or sincerity?—Or can the people’s support of any man endow him with these awful prerogatives of a Divine Ministry? Can a congregation, however numerous, give what they themselves possess not? Holy Scripture classes together Christ’s own Mission from His Father; and the Apostles’ Mission from Christ. Even the Son of God “glorified not Himself” to be made an High Priest. He began not His ministry till He was divinely pointed out at His baptism, and from that time Jesus began to “preach and to teach.” Even He confessed, “As the Father hath SENT ME,” and, as “the Father hath given Me commandment,” even “so I do.” And His blessed Apostle said, “God was in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself, . . . and hath COMMITTED unto us the ministry of reconciliation;” and when the same Apostle was “about to be offered,” and the “time of his departure was at hand,” he said, “This charge I COMMIT unto thee, son Timothy;” and further, “the same COMMIT thou to faithful men,” who shall TEACH others also. Indeed every Scripture precedent is against the notion so wholly inconsistent with the idea of a “commission,” that a man may teach in the name of God, without God’s authority so to do. Surely the words of Scripture mean something. “Pastors,” “stewards of mysteries,” “overseers,” “embassadors,”—those “in Christ’s stead,” those “speaking in the person of Christ,” those whom the Churches were commanded to “obey” as “watchers for souls,” and “accountable.”—Those who were received as “angels of God,” even “as Jesus Christ;” “workers together with God,” “angels of the Churches,” “stars in Christ’s right hand!” Are these the descriptions of an earthly dignity wherewith a man of ability may clothe himself? Do they mean less than they say?—or rather do they not powerfully point the question, “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”

But notwithstanding the vagueness of the popular creed, it is not to be denied, that those who think attentively about religion and read their Bible with care, and yet embrace sectarian views, have some way of explaining all these, and similar expressions, so as to bring them, in some degree, into conformity with their particular views. Doubtless some sort of explanation would be necessary to give a measure of consistency to their systems. And into the examination of their manifold systems it would be impossible now to enter. Nor is it necessary; it is enough to point out the fundamental error, of having a system, and then “explaining” texts down to that system. And this perhaps may be sufficiently done by glancing chiefly at two classes of the most received theories, with a view of showing that they alike proceed on a common principle, and that (in consequence) instead of taking the words of Scripture as they plainly stand, and accepting them as the Church does, in their full natural meaning, they are obliged to “explain.” Such, indeed, we have already said to be our running argument. “Would the sectarians, or would Catholics, have been more likely to employ naturally such and such words?” And more than this we can scarcely attempt on this occasion. Indeed a formal confutation of many such systems as we are now alluding to, would be almost impossible. There is something so indeterminate about them, that there is no tangible point of attack. The bare denial of an Apostolically descended Ministry is, frequently, all that can be obtained from our opponents. And where we are not presented with this sort of vacuity of belief, we still meet with nothing more than some thin theory of a possible ministration, whereby a straining ingenuity attempts to harmonize its own opinions with the facts and statements of Scripture; as if we were set to inquire—what may be, or might be a system of religious teaching? and not rather, what was from the beginning?

One theory of a Christian ministry maintained, with more or less of distinctness, by very many, is, that none are rightly “sent,” or commissioned to teach Christ’s religion, unless they have what is termed an “inward call.” Now, if they mean by this, that every minister of Christ ought to be inwardly impressed with the importance of his calling, no one will question it: but they must mean more than this, or their meaning amounts to nothing. Their idea seems to be, that no man has a right to become a “minister,” who has not some overpowering personal conviction of his spiritual destination to the ministerial office, and that this is a sufficient evidence of a true “call” to the office; and in conformity with this notion they explain every text. Now if any one imagines that he has such evidence of a call within him, it is useless to reason with him. He is clearly beyond that. If he can so persuade himself, he may also persuade himself that all Scripture is on his side; or any thing else. Few, indeed, will be disposed to envy the venturous self-confidence of one who could thus stand forth (with eternity before him) and on his own sole authority profess, “I am an embassador for Christ!”—“I am a ‘savour of eternal life and death!’” Not to dwell, too, on the opening thus given to fanaticism of every kind, it is certain also that a man’s personal conviction can be no evidence to others; and yet others are interested in the matter. How far his apparent religious success may be so, is another question, which had better be separately examined, and which we shall hereafter consider. But, it is plain, as we have said, and again insist, that a man’s personal conviction alone is no sufficient proof for others that he is “sent” to preach Christianity. The Apostolic Epistles, every where, imply as St. Paul does in his question to the Roman Church, that the being “sent” was a matter which other men could judge of. It is certain, too, that the Apostles had something more at least than an “inward call.” They were, according to the Scriptures, outwardly called, from the very first, by Christ Himself. And St. Paul, the only one who was not so, was outwardly called, afterwards, by an express miracle. So that the Bible, and Apostolic example, are alike against the notion of the sufficiency of an inward call. And here it may be collaterally remarked, that, least of all men, can the members of our Church admit this, at the best inadequate, doctrine; for the 23rd Article is emphatically against it. It reads thus:—“It is not lawful for any man to take upon him the office of public preaching, or ministering the Sacraments in the congregation, before he be lawfully called and SENT to execute the same. And those we ought to judge lawfully called and sent, which be chosen and called to this work by men who have public authority given unto them in the congregation, to call and send ministers into the Lord’s vineyard.” Above all, therefore, the man who holds this doctrine of our Church will see a force which the advocates of the inward call cannot understand in St. Paul’s question, “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”

But another notion concerning the Ministry, practically entertained to a very wide extent is, That the Government of a country has the prerogative of making Ministers of Religion. That this revolting opinion could possibly prevail in a Christian land, is, perhaps, one of the most fearful proofs which could be brought of Pagan ignorance, among nominal believers. And yet, under various modifications, it prevails to an extent scarcely credible. What but this is implied in the expression which we often hear even educated people make use of, “that the State makes Bishops?” What but this is implied in our quiet acquiescence in the notion, that an act of the State may abolish some of our bishopricks? What but this is the ordinary practical interpretation of the phrase, “the Church as by law established?” which sometimes is even cast at us as an acknowledgment that our Church’s origin is an Act of Parliament. Is it not true, that many have no other idea of a clergyman, than that he may be better educated, perhaps, than some other teachers, and so is “patronized by the State?” And, is this the idea of a minister of Christ which the Bible would give? Is it a doctrine of the first Christians, that men, simply because they are governors, and happen to have civil power, may clothe their fellow men with the awful prerogatives of a Spiritual Mission? Is it a doctrine of the Church of England—when our Article expressly denies to kings all spiritual authority—and when Queen Elizabeth allowed the oath of supremacy to be taken, with an accompanying declaration to that effect?—It is easy, of course, to construct a theoretical argument to prove, “That the governor of a State is bound to provide religious instruction for the people,”—but certainly such an argument will not prove that the civil governor can give to any man a spiritual AUTHORITY. It can only prove, that it is his duty to seek for a rightly authorized and commissioned instructor, and give him the additional worldly advantage of a legal sanction and defence. It may be, that governors should look for and find a religious teacher for the people—but they cannot make one. Governors must be instructed and saved by the same heavenly means as the people; and neither can rightfully intermeddle with the administration of Divine things. On the leprous forehead of King Uzziah we may read the presumption of those who will so invade the sacred office. (2 Chron. xxvi. 19.) But it would be impossible to draw out more minutely in this place [24] the arguments either for or against the Erastian theory; and we are chiefly concerned to show that it is wholly inconsistent with Scriptural and Primitive doctrine, which taught, that men should “give unto CÆsar the things that are CÆsar’s; but unto God alone the things which are God’s.” The argument which we would, again and again urge, is, Whether the notion of the State commissioning the religious instructor is in harmony with the language of the New Testament? Does not the Christian mind at once revolt from the thought, That a ruler of this world can commission any as embassadors of the world’s Saviour? That the government of any country can by their state-licence empower a man to “bless in the name of the Lord?”—to be a “steward” of Holy mysteries?—to absolve penitents,—and “deliver to Satan” the ungodly? Such was the Minister of Christ according to Primitive belief and Scriptural statement; acting “in the person of Christ,” and marking with holy indignation any who refused to “follow” in his steps. He “fed the flock of God,” took “the oversight of them,” and “stirred up the gift that was within him” by the laying on of hands. These are the very words of Scripture, and they, surely, never would have been thought of, never could have been naturally used by the inspired writers, if they had entertained the thought, that the State could make a man a Christian Minister.

And such a thought certainly was not entertained by the Christians of the first 300 years, any more than by the Apostles; who were not even countenanced by governors, but in things spiritual “resisted unto blood,” and were charged with “turning the world upside down,” rather than submit to men in aught that pertained unto God. Even as late as the fourth century, the great president of the Nicene Council thus declared to the Emperor the Christian doctrine: [26a]God has put dominion into your hands. To us He hath entrusted the government of the Church; and as a traitor to you is a rebel to the God who ordained you, so be afraid on your part, lest usurping ecclesiastical power you become guilty of a great sin.” And again: “Meddle not with Church matters; far from advising us about them, rather seek instruction from us.” “Remember that you are a man.” “Fear the day of Judgment.” And nothing can be plainer than the language addressed by St. Hilary to the Arian bishops. “O ye bishops, I pray you, what suffrages did the Apostles make use of? Did they receive their dignity from the palace?” [26b] And, after all, this is the unanswerable argument. St. Paul was not received as an Apostle, because he was allowed to preach to “CÆsar’s household.” St. Luke was not admitted as a Minister simply because he was an educated man. We do not find the enquiry in Scripture or antiquity, How shall men preach except they be “respectable?” or, how shall they preach except they be favoured by the State? or, how shall they preach except they have literary distinctions? Necessary and useful as all these qualifications may be, the distinctive question concerning the Ministry is, “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”

Now we before observed, that the popular notions, such as these just considered, concerning the Christian Ministry, seem, with all their variations, to be the result of a common principle. The principle, that is, of reducing Christianity to a bare code, or system, of intelligible precepts or dogmas. And the advocates of these various notions are obliged, in some way, to lay out of consideration whatever they meet with, in Scripture or elsewhere, which is inconsistent with this principle. The further development of these remarks may serve more clearly to elicit, and by contrast elucidate the Catholic doctrine of the Ministry.

The advocates, for example, of the “inward call,” seem generally to regard Christ’s religion as a code of doctrines; while the maintainers of a government call, i.e. the Erastians, regard it chiefly as a code of morals. They both “simplify;” they both systematize; and their systems, as such, proceed on very similar grounds. The former system would naturally consider all things subsidiary to what is called “the application” of the revealed doctrines to individuals. Whatever agency seems calculated most powerfully to bring home the doctrine to the mind of a man, that is the most desirable; and with a reference to this, and as so viewed, every thing in Scripture is forthwith explained. Thus: Are Christians commanded in Scripture to be ONE? This system interprets it to mean, that they must have one general “doctrine.” Are we said to be united to Christ as “members” to a body? This system calls it a “metaphor,” designed only to inculcate charity and kindness. Are we said to be saved by the “washing of water?” This system tells us to understand it “spiritually:” for ‘that the water only represents the Spirit.’ In a word, it simply regards Christianity as a divine mental philosophy; and only values the visible Church as a useful means, in such proportion as it effectually “applies” this to individuals. Of course there are countless varieties of this species of religion, yet they agree in this, that they all regard it as an abstract code of principle, and whatever they find in the Bible beyond this, they bend to their system in one way or another. Calvinists, Semi-calvinists, Arminians, and Pelagians, all seem to believe in a kind of essence of Christianity, the existence of which in an individual is to be tested by his possession of a sort of religious sense, to which religious sense they indiscriminately apply every expression of Scripture concerning the various states of the true Christian. Accordingly the possessor of this sense is “regenerated,” “elect,” “enlightened,” “renewed,” “born again”—and whatever else they can “accommodate” in any verse of the Bible. A new and intangible meaning is found for every term; every thing must be sublimely doctrinal. The very precepts of Holiness are looked on as “consequences,” which need not, therefore, be too formally insisted on. The Sacraments of Christ are “elevated,” or extenuated, into “shadows,” and “signs.” The Church itself is evaporated into an “invisible” essence!

The other system, that of the Moralist, is rather more difficult thus to maintain and adapt to Scripture. Considering Christianity as a sort of republication of the law of natural morality, with, perhaps, the announcement of the necessity of repentance, and the assurance of consequent forgiveness with the Deity; all beyond this is regarded as mere enthusiasm. The defenders of this system would allow the existence of a Ministry to be exceedingly “useful,” and so come to think it the duty of the State to support it. These, like the former class, would maintain a visible Church, because it is “useful;” and so they themselves will go to Church, they tell us, “for example’s sake.” These, if they are a little educated, soon become Socinians, [30] and find it necessary to attribute something much less than inspiration to the Bible, and so avoid its plain testimony against their system; and then their course is a very plain one. Those of the party who are more ignorant, are generally found lulled in a complete religious torpor, from which it seems almost impossible to wake them; for if disturbed they only shut their eyes the closer, and more inflexibly, as if it were the duty of “plain Christians,” and “sound old Churchmen,” to understand nothing.

Now in contrast to these and all other simplifiers of the Catholic truth, we neither would attempt on the one hand, to reduce the Bible to a code of spiritual principles, nor on the other to reject spirituality altogether as extravagance. Consequently we have no need to get rid of any part of Scriptural truth, either by “explanations” or “criticisms.” We see that Scripture does declare spiritual doctrines, and that it does enforce practical morals. But we see much more than this in the Bible; for we take it all literally, and plainly. We think that the Scripturally recorded means, for applying the grace of Christ’s religion are just as divine, and therefore, for aught we know, just as essential, as either the doctrines or precepts of that religion. Neither those doctrines nor precepts may be rightly received, except in connexion with, and as parts of, the WHOLE Divine Revelation; and of this the means of heavenly grace included in the Church, are an undoubted portion. Indeed what may be called the Doctrine of the Church, may be seen in a manner to comprehend every other, so that even the truth of the Ministerial Succession is but a part of that Doctrine.

It is very easy to mystify a plain subject, and to represent that the word Church is of doubtful meaning; but let any reader of the Bible answer this question:—When St. Paul wrote a letter to “the Church of Philippi,” was there any difficulty in deciding whom he meant to address? It is plain that there existed in that city a number of families BAPTIZED in the name of Christ; and that number was ruled over by certain spiritual officers; and, as a whole, was called the Church. Wherever, then, we find a similar body of men, we say, there is a Church. Now, we believe that such bodies of men, so organized, and constituting, in the aggregate, the Church Universal, or Catholic, must exist to the end of the world; because, at the very time when Christ promised to set up such an institution, He promised to it a perpetuity. “I will build My Church;” and the “gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” All this we believe simply as it stands, putting no invisible meanings upon it. Wherever, indeed, we meet with a spiritual truth, we receive it; but we desire not to make or imagine one where it exists not, just to carry out an hypothesis of our own.

We know that the spiritual rulers of the Church were made so at first by Christ personally, and that all the members of the Church were made so in one way, namely, by Baptism. (Gal. iii. 27.) We think that to the Church alone the peculiar promises of the Gospel were made. (2 Peter i. 4.) We believe that there was an awful power lodged in the Church, and exercised from the beginning, through her Rulers, a power which, for example, could exclude unworthy members from Communion, and that those so excluded were cut off from the Church’s peculiar blessing. (Matt, xviii. 18.) We think that how much soever Excommunication might now be called a “form,” it was no mere form in the Apostles’ days. (1 Cor. v. 5; Gal. v. 12; 1 Tim. i. 20, and v. 20.) We look with reverence therefore on the powers of the Church, in her Ministers. We dare not hastily pronounce any thing to be “a mere matter of discipline” or “only a form,” because we feel that we are ignorant of the mysterious ways of God: and none can determine the limit which separates Divine Doctrine and Discipline. In fine, we look upon the Church herself as One Eternal Sacrament: the One great outward and visible Institute, set up by Christ, conveying to its members His invisible grace, through many consecrated channels.

The permanent continuance of this One Church on earth we see to have been, in point of fact, connected, from the beginning, with One permanent Ministry or Priesthood, with which, at the first, Christ the great High Priest promised to be virtually present “to the end of the world.” So that, as it was promised that the Church should never be prevailed against; so also that Ministry which was essential to it, should never cease. To the Church we know the New Testament was addressed: and by the Church (with all other means of grace) it was preserved. By the Church’s instrumentality we, individually, are brought to that Font where the “stewards of God’s mysteries” received us to the mystic body of the faithful. By the Church we really are taught in the truth; for notwithstanding every boast of independent thinking, the Church is practically to us, what it was to the first Christians, “the pillar and ground of truth.” (1 Tim. iii. 15.) From the Church’s voice we learn even the lessons of Holy Scripture. And not only the transmitted Wisdom, but the transmitted Grace of Christ is thus ours; for the Church is the “fulness of Him that filleth all in all!” (Eph. i. 23.)—On our head the Church directs that holy hands be laid. In the Church we obtain that grace, whereby we go on “from strength to strength:” and in our partaking of the mysterious Sacrifice which “showeth forth the Lord’s death,” glory is given “unto God in the Church, by Christ Jesus, throughout all ages.” Nay we doubt not, that even “unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places there is made known by the Church the manifold wisdom of God!”

This is the Catholic faith. We trust in God—we rely on His word, and His appointments; as being anxious to recognise His presence among us, as really and truly as the Holy Apostles did, when their Lord stood visibly before them and said, “Lo! I AM WITH YOU always!” And it may safely be left to any man to judge, how far these thoughts and feelings are in harmony with the literal word of God. Every one may see that we have nothing there to explain away—nothing to “account for.” It is such as we might have written ourselves, so far as the sentiments are concerned, to the full extent that those sentiments may be apprehended. How simple and natural to us sounds the injunction, “Obey them that have the Rule over you, for they watch for your souls!” and how awkward, to say the least, when spoken of self-sent teachers, or those whom the people have commissioned and “called.”—Believing that the Church is the perpetual depositary of those awful gifts, which Christ gave to men when He “ascended up on high,” knowing that He gave some Apostles, “some prophets, some pastors, and teachers,” for the perfecting of the saints, “till we all come in the Unity of the faith, . . . unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ”—Not doubting that these, Christ’s gifts, have remained and ever shall remain in His Church; with what thoughts must we regard the Church’s Ministry! How can we feel the thrilling solemnity of St. Paul’s exclamation, after he had absolved the Corinthian penitent, “Such trust have we through Christ to God-ward!”—“Such trust!”—words may not describe it—“Such trust!”—“not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves, but our sufficiency is of God, WHO also hath MADE US Ministers of the New Testament!” What depth of meaning to us is there in such language as, “Feed the flock of God over whom the Holy Ghost hath made you overseers!” We feel that we are using it in the Apostle’s divine sense—yes, the very same solemn sense! All systematizers are obliged to put some lower diluted meaning upon it! And not on this alone, but on every similar text of the Sacred Word! Which of them can say, in the same sense as the Apostles did, of the Ministers of Christ, that they are “Workers together with God?”—Let any man revolve in his mind all those words so copiously quoted already, concerning the unearthly responsibilities of those who have to “save themselves, and them that hear them.” Let a man deeply think of his Saviour’s words, “I give unto you the keys of the kingdom of heaven,” “He that heareth you heareth Me,” and he will feel it strange mockery, to apply such language to a minister self-authorized, or commissioned by civil governors; and he will come to feel, as the believers in an Apostolic Ministry feel, the power of the question; “How shall men preach except they be SENT?”

Having now thus far explained the nature of the Catholic Doctrine of the Ministry; not attempting to prove it by theoretical arguments, but simply to contrast it with other doctrines, and compare it with Scripture; it remains for us, next to consider the means whereby this Ministry hath been continued in the Church; and for this purpose we must state the Doctrine of the Succession. The Evidences of the doctrine, and the Objections urged against it, we must reserve to the following lectures.

It is affirmed, that before the Apostles quitted the field of their earthly labours, they appointed “Successors;” and “laying their hands” on them, transmitted all the Apostolical power which they had received from Christ. It is not supposed that the gift of Apostolical Ordination contained necessarily any such grace, as is ordinarily understood by the term miraculous; though many who were ordained at first, might of course have possessed likewise such miraculous gifts, as were very common to all classes of believers in the early Church. It is also on record, that the ordained Successors of the Apostles, before they also died, bequeathed their power and authority to others, by the same ceremony of “laying on of hands.” And it is not denied by any, that the same practice has universally prevailed from that time to the present. These Apostolical Successors throughout the whole Church, were deemed the centres of Unity, and sources of Sacramental grace to their respective communities, dioceses, or Churches. They were looked upon as Chief Embassadors of Christ—Vicegerents of the Saviour of mankind—all, in a word, which St. Peter and St. Paul claimed to be:—Divinely “Sent.” (1 Tim. i. 12, ii. 7.) They were at first called by various names,—Apostles, Superintendents, Angels, and Bishops; but eventually this latter designation prevailed. From these Bishops every other officer of the Church derived his power, and “without the Bishop,” to use the words of St. Ignatius, the contemporary of the Apostles, it was not lawful to do any thing in the Church. Finally, for more than a thousand years there was no Church in all the world which was not so governed by Apostolically descended Bishops.

Such is an outline of the Doctrine of the Succession. A minuter consideration of its details will necessarily follow on, when we investigate the Evidence, in our next lecture. The solemn consequences of the Doctrine itself, are such as may well dispose us to approach the examination with all seriousness of soul. For on the one hand, if we reject the Succession, it follows, that we have not left on earth any real Ministry of Christ; while if we admit it, we admit it with all its exclusive claims. Hard things may be said of the choice of such a subject, and the revival of such an inquiry, but the overwhelming importance of it will be a sufficient vindication to every reflecting mind seeking for truth. The time is come when questions like these may not be suffered to remain undecided. When Romanism has advanced so rapidly among us, making boast of its exclusive Apostolic claims, dare we be silent? If we will care not to show our people our Divine claims on their spiritual allegiance, can we wonder that they revolt to Rome? Might we not expect the very “stones to cry out against us?” In truth, in very truth, we have been silent too long! And the meagre Christianity now prevalent on all hands, gives fatal evidence against us. Christians seem to have forgotten that they are already the members of an Eternal community!—Well may we ask, Are these the elect of God?—His chosen heritage?—with the unseen wall of fire around them, and an uncared-for glory in the midst? Yes, Christians seem almost wholly to have forgotten their endowment of manifold gifts—almost forgotten the “taste of the good word of God, and the Powers of the world to come,” (Heb. vi. 4.) so that it may appear well nigh impossible to “renew them again to repentance!” But shall the Churches venture thus to await, without an effort, the Second Coming of the Lord?—God forbid! “Whoso hath an ear to hear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the Churches”—“Remember from whence thou art fallen! and repent! and do the FIRST works; or else I will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his place, except thou REPENT!”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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