Articles 28-30: Second London Confession

Jesus Reminds Us
Under the authority of Christ, the church practices two ordinances, baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Chapter 28 of the 2LC says that these two are of “positive, and sovereign institution; appointed by the Lord Jesus the only Law-giver, to be continued in his church to the end of the world.” They are to be administered by those called and qualified by Christ. Both of these are proclamations of the chief aspects of the covenant of redemption in accordance with which Christ was crucified (Romans 6:3; Matthew 26:28; 1 Corinthians 11:25). In his baptism, Jesus foretold that his obedience to the Father would lead him to a bloody death. In the Lord’s Supper, Jesus established a remembrance of his abused body and bleeding wounds just prior to their infliction.
The ordinances of baptism and the Lord’s Supper manifest the Trinitarian character of the covenant community, the church, and the specific trinitarian rhythm that should always be present in the witness of corporate worship. As does the entire revelation of the New Testament, these ordinances set forth a vigorous Christocentric trinitarianism.
These ordinances do not highlight themselves as sources of salvation but point to the historical work of Christ when he bore our sins in his own body on the tree. They are solemn and serious proclamations of the central facts of the gospel always to be enacted in the context of explanation and proclamation. Their power is not primarily existential, but they draw attention to the finality of the historical redemptive event. In doing so, they remind us that all spiritual blessings flow to us from the consummated ransom of Calvary.
The ordinances teach us submission to the governing authority of the revealed word of God. Participation in them calls for a mental and spiritual embracing of their truth. Each directly affirms the worship of God in Spirit and in truth. Only the Spirit qualifies a person to receive them; and only by the word of God does the Spirit change our minds and fit our hearts to bear in our bodies their reality. By the word of God, we learn the truth, and by the Spirit of God we confess the truth that Jesus is Lord and receive the mercies resident in his resurrection from the dead (1 Corinthians 12:3; 1 John 4:2; 5:1;1 Peter 1:22-25; Romans 10:8-13). The article on baptism states, “Those who do actually profess repentance towards God, faith in, and obedience to our Lord Jesus, are the only proper subjects of this ordinance.” Likewise in the Supper of the Lord, (30: 1) it is given to believers “to be observed in the churches unto the end of the world, for the perpetual remembrance, and showing forth the sacrifice in his death confirmation of the faith of believers in all the benefits thereof, their spiritual nourishment and growth in him, their further engagement in, and to, all duties which they owe unto him; and to be a bond and pledge of their communion with him, and with each other.”
There is no room for guess-work in interpreting these symbols. Though they are symbols, they are clearly interpreted symbols. Though they are short dramas, they have a prescribed meaning. God certainly is not opposed to the expressive power of symbol and drama and has designated these two enactments of the victorious passion of Christ as the church’s play.
Every vital aspect of plot, character, conflict, resolution, and denouement makes deep impressions on the entire participating community as the church regularly enacts the drama of redemption. We see man as fallen and under the curse of death with nothing he can do to release himself from its verdict. He is under the threat of eternal death, and moreover is oblivious to the roiling waters of divine vengeance ready to surround him. He comes to himself; we sense the difficulty of an awakened conscience in futile efforts to reverse this just sentence, and we struggle with the helplessness of man. We learn that an eternal covenant has been arranged just fit for this situation, expressive of the eternal wisdom, immutable justice, and invincible love of God. As designated in this covenant, the only person who can possibly rescue these sinners appears. He accomplished the work necessary for salvation through unimaginable cost: a conflict with the unbelief of those he came to save, an extended contest with the arch-fiend, the devil, and, most wrenching, he places himself in the stead of those who should receive from the Father “indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish” (Romans 2:8, 9), a cost that none but that one could pay. The covenant involves the shedding of blood, the beating of his body, an entombment behind a sealed rock. His hard work is rewarded by his Father, he rises from the dead with such abundance of approval that eternal spiritual blessings accrue to all those who trust his work, and his work alone, for their acceptance before God. They are given the promise of eternal life, hope in this life, a renewal of soul to love and reach for holiness, and a sense of final resolution through the kingly return of their suffering servant.
A solemn but lively presentation of each ordinance helps each participant and observer enter the perfection of these ultimately true dramas. They are the dominically warranted proclamations of the real story that do not call for speculation as to their meaning. Their meaning is repetitively pressed on the mind and heart of the community. Their repetition draws us, not to the drama itself or to the elements that bear the story, but to its once-for-all divine enactment historically “in his body on the tree” as interpreted authoritatively in the present day according to divine revelation. The article on the “Lord’s Supper” (30) specifically rejects the idea that it constitutes a “real sacrifice,” but is a “memorial;” it affirms that the people must be given both the bread and the wine, not have the wine withheld from them; it rejects as an unscriptural superstition and as idolatrous the doctrine of transubstantiation, which in addition is repugnant “even to common sense and reason.” Scripture sometimes calls the elements of bread and wine by the “things they represent,” the broken body of Christ and his shed blood.
These ordinances do not operate as mere appendages to corporate worship, stuck on or pressed in with clumsiness or without connection to the entire experience, but reflect the essence of body life. They are so vital in expressing the particular event that has given the church existence, that they must constitute, along with the appropriate concentration on the word, the substance of the church’s confessional witness in worship whenever they are celebrated. They embody the singularity and absoluteness of the truth, “There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call—one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all” (Ephesians 4:4-6).
Baptism
Jesus commanded his disciples immediately before his ascension, “As you go make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28: 19). The confession states, “The outward element to be used in this ordinance is water, wherein the party is to be baptized, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” It continues by affirming, “Immersion, or dipping of the person in water, is necessary to the due administration of this ordinance.” (29: 3, 4).
They Obeyed His Command According to his instructions: Exactly according to his word, we find the disciples at Pentecost responding, “So those who received his word were baptized” which consisted of “everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself” (Acts 2:39, 41). We find the same order true in Samaria, “But when they believed Philip as he preached good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women” (Acts 8:12). When the gospel came with power to the house of Cornelius through the preaching of Peter, in the presence of the “believers from among the circumcised,” Peter declared, “Can anyone withhold water for baptizing these people, who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?” On that basis, therefore, “He commanded them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ” (Acts 10:47, 48). When the Philippian jailer heard the message, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household,” he took Paul to his house where Paul and Silas “spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house” (Acts 16:31, 32). The promise of salvation through faith was to him and to his household, so they too must hear the word in order to believe. They did and “he was baptized at once, he and all his family.” The last part of verse 34 should read, “And he rejoiced, all of his house having believed in God.” The whole household was instructed in the word, the whole household believed, and the whole household was baptized.
Baptism is Trinitarian. In the baptism of Jesus (Matthew 4:13-17), we see the clearly trinitarian arrangement of the ordinance. The Son of God is there, submitting to all righteousness; the voice of the Father is there proclaiming the belovedness and the eternal sonship of the Son; and the Holy Spirit is there descending as a dove showing that, in this mysterious incarnation, the Son of God himself must indeed fulfill all righteousness as a man who “through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God” (Hebrews 9:14).
Immediately after this initiatory event and the manifestation of the trinitarian nature of this mission, the continuing element of the Spirit’s involvement becomes clear. Jesus was “full of the Spirit” and was led, really driven, by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil. This began the tests in which Jesus fulfilled all righteousness that we might be justified and adopted.
For us, baptism reflects the work of the Spirit both in fitting us for union with Christ by regeneration and empowering us for “newness of life,” that is, sanctification. He unites us with the Lord Jesus in his perfect work of salvation, and testifies to our place as a member in the body of Christ, the church. “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body . . . and all were made to drink of one Spirit” (1 Corinthians 12:12, 13). This is one reason that baptism is so closely tied to church membership. All of the “members of the body” bear witness that they too were “made to drink of one Spirit,” that is, have been subject to the saving operations of the Spirit, and were placed by the Spirit, not only into the universal church composed of all the elect of all ages, but into this local congregation. There, by the gifting of the Spirit, we work “for the common good” (1 Corinthians 12:7).
Baptism also draws attention to the powerful operation of the Father in raising Christ from the dead –“having been buried with him  in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through faith in the powerful working of God, who raised him from the dead” (Colossians 2:12).  Again, Paul inserts the operation of the Father into the meaning of baptism in writing, “We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life” (Romans 6:4). Baptism signifies that Christ is the “firstborn among many brothers,” and as we have followed him in his death so we are released from “bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” We are sons of God through faith in him and the Father has received us as his children.
When Paul explained the meaning of our baptism (“as many of you as were baptized into Christ”) as the expression of our having “put on Christ” (Galatians 3:27), he gave a pungent summary of the trinitarian foundation of salvation. Under the initiatory authority of the Father in the eternal covenant of grace, he sent the Son. By this work of redemption, the Father then sent the Spirit. “But when the fullness of time had come,” that is, the time established in eternity when the Father gave to the Son a people to save (John 17: 3, 4), “God sent forth his Son,” that is, at the precise moment that the “power of the Most High” (Luke 1:35) overshadowed Mary, “born of woman,” for in addition to the overshadowing of the Most High the Holy Spirit had come upon her so that child was both Son of God and son of Mary born of her flesh, “born under the law,” that is, truly born as a Jew under ceremonial law and as the Son of Man under the moral law, “to redeem those who were under the law,” because the law held us captive to its true moral demand of death to the transgressor, “so that we might receive adoption as sons” for when the legal barriers are removed by his suffering he “is not ashamed to call [us] his brothers” (Hebrews 2:12). “And because you are sons,” So Paul continued, “God” that is, God the Father according to the terms of the covenant and on the basis of the reconciling work of Christ, “has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba Father!’” This new familial status means “you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God” (Galatians 4:4-7). All of this meaning is invested in the putting on of Christ in the public testimony of baptism. The triune God is on our side, for us in mercy. The entire congregation, before whom this is done, remembers, confesses, testifies to the same understanding, and worships.
Baptism points to a finished work. One’s baptism signifies that he is bearing witness to the finished work of Christ and has taken to himself all that is implied in having been bought with a price. He confesses, as it were, “I do know that my body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within me, whom I have from God. I am not my own, for I was bought with a price. So henceforth, this body that has been buried and has risen again with Christ will be put to the service of the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 6:19, 20). To “put on Christ,” therefore, as a voluntary act of obedience to the command of Christ is to reflect the work of Christ immediately, for when we are baptized we are “baptized into his death” (Romans 6:3). The confession affirms that to the baptized person, this ordinance is “a sign of his fellowship with him, in his death, and resurrection; of his being engrafted into him; of remission of sins; and of his giving up unto God through Jesus Christ, to live and walk in newness of Life.”
Christ’s death is the event that embodies all things that lead the sinner from death to eternal life. It sets in motion the powers brought to bear on the sinner to carry him from under the curse to the glorified state in heaven. From our being foreknown in Christ, to our being called, justified, sanctified, glorified, and appearing in his image before all the citizens of heaven, all flows in a never-ending stream from his death. “He who spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not also, along with him, freely give us all things” (Romans 8:32). Baptism symbolizes that, testifies for the person and the church that vital truth, presses the historical reality on the conscience, and leads the church, not to rely on the symbol, but to confess more deeply their dependence on the Savior in his once-for-all work (Hebrews 7:26-28).
Baptism denotes identification with Christ’s suffering. Though baptism does not activate God’s saving work but symbolizes its content, that does not mean that nothing existential is at stake at all when a person submits to the ordinance. When disciples asked about their place in his kingdom, Jesus pointed to the fact that only through a baptism in blood and the emulation of it in the life of the disciples would the kingdom be established. “Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized? . . . The baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized” (Mark 10:38, 39). Christ’s obedience to this baptism of ransom blood would seal and mature his unbroken course of righteousness to the Father’s will (Matthew 3:15 – “Thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness”). In this baptism, he announced that, because of this perfected righteousness (Hebrews 5: 8, 9), after a baptism in blood (Mark 10:38-45), he would be raised from the dead.
Those elements of redemptive truth, present when Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist, define for us what should be present both in our minds and in the accompanying words during the practice of this ordinance. By entering into John’s baptism, he affirmed John’s message about Jesus himself and also the reality of sin in the human family and the need for repentance. Though he was sinless, he took on himself the debt of sinners. As we are baptized in water as he was, so we are committed to take up the cross, follow him, and be willing to be baptized in blood as he was. Having been brought to faith, we testify publicly that Christ’s life, death, and life-again is ours. Again, to this Paul pointed when he wrote the Galatian churches, “for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ” (Galatians 3: 26, 27). In baptism, the person announces that he has counted “all things as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord and, in order that I may know the power of his resurrection, I now show my commitment to share in his sufferings and become like him in his death” (cf. Philippians 3:8, 10).
It is not a time for light banter or humorous observation but a time for being committed to the resurrection of the righteous through dying the death of the righteous. It denotes that Jesus, being set apart by the Father for such a death, also consecrated himself for this death, that those given to him by the Father would be forgiven of sin and be granted eternal life by His righteousness. Our voluntary submission to this ordinance, following upon personal repentance and faith, therefore, means that we have submitted to the biblical principle that the life dependent on his death comes “that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised” (2 Corinthians 5:13). In his death, we died; in his resurrection, we live. Our true life, moreover, is but for a commitment of willingness to die in the cause of the Christ who bought us with his precious blood.
The Lord’s Supper (Paragraph 30)
The gospel writer Luke (22:19) recorded, “And he took the bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave to them saying, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, ‘This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.’” We find that the first church “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayers” (Acts 2: 42). This ordinance was to be practiced by the whole church as a matter of deep solemnity and in demonstration of gospel unity. This ordinance was given by Christ for a “perpetual remembrance, and shewing forth the sacrifice of his death, confirmation of the faith of believers in all the benefits thereof.” Worshipful engagement in the Supper would provide “spiritual nourishment and growth in him,” and serve to remind them of the covenantal bond given them in Christ and likewise the spiritual communion of believers with each other (1).
The Manner and Mental Attitude in Partaking is Important: To reinforce that fact, Paul gave a sober warning to the Corinthian church about her attitude and conduct in the time of corporate worship when partaking of the memorial meal: “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment on himself” (1 Corinthians 11:26-29). Solemn warning, indeed, and intended to discourage any reception of the Supper not permeated with both Spirit and truth.
The confession, therefore, warns that “all ignorant and ungodly persons, as they ae unfit to enjoy communion with Christ; so are they unworthy of the Lord’s Table.” The descriptive words, “ignorant and ungodly,” refers to those who are unconverted. They do not have a saving knowledge of Christ and thus are devoid of the Spirit of God and any affection for godly living. Consistently in the life of the established church these Baptists had seen the constant participation in communion of merely nominal Christians, baptized in infancy and required to commune. This practice drove unconverted persons into “great sin against him” while they remained unconverted. As such, they received the elements of bread and wine “unworthily and are guilty of the body and blood of the Lord” (8).
As an established perpetual element of corporate worship, the memorial should be approached with understanding. There must be no extortion of the heart in exalting the material of the Supper beyond biblical warrant. At the same time, it must not be demoted from its ordained place to effect sanctifying meditation on the redemptive work of the cross.
Symbols in Perpetuity – In the text in Matthew 26:26-29, Jesus used the words “Take, eat; this is my body.” Also with the cup he said, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” Some traditions receive these words as indicating that there is a perfect identity between the elements partaken and the body and blood of Christ. Roman Catholic theology asserts that transubstantiation takes place. The elements, maintaining all the appearance, feel, and taste of bread or wine actually become the real flesh of Christ and the true blood of Christ. This miracle of “transubstantiation” occurs at the use of the appropriate form by the priest and those partaking receive grace ex opera operato, that is, in the very act of taking, unless the recipient has committed mortal sin. Lutheran liturgy upholds a doctrine of “real presence” but not transubstantiation. Because of Christ’s omnipresence, and through the words spoken, Christ’s body and blood, united in one person with his deity, actually are present in the elements of the Supper, so they believe.
Although Zwingi and Calvin differed in some matters of expression, they agreed in this, “Hence, any man is deceived who thinks anything more is conferred upon him through the sacraments than what is offered by God’s Word and received by him in true faith.”[2] Zwingli wrote of eating both spiritually and sacramentally. To eat spiritually was to receive the work of Christ by faith in that God has promised forgiveness through the death and resurrection of his Son to those who receive that work as the only means by which sinners can be reconciled. To eat sacramentally occurs when “you join with your brethren in partaking of the bread and wine which are the tokens of the body of Christ. . . . You do inwardly that which you represent outwardly.” [3]
As an expression of disgust, some have characterized the Zwinglian view as that of “bare symbol.” If one means by bare, that no importance for spiritual growth and deepened worship of Christ is intended by it, then the word “bare” is a complete caricature. If one means that the elements add nothing to the reconciling transaction that was accomplished in time and space in the body of Christ on the cross, then the word “bare” is a truly evangelical affirmation. The bread and wine are symbols, naked and unadorned, and do nothing but point, but point with sober poignancy, to the place where all was done.
The biblical narrative supports the idea that this is the use of a symbol by Jesus. Jesus often used the verb of being to speak of a symbol that depicted some aspect of his redemptive work. “I am the door of the sheep” (John 10:7). John, in fact, called this manner of teaching a “figure of speech” or a “similitude” (10:6) “I am the true vine” (John 15:1). At Passover, Jews would say, “This is the bread of affliction,” meaning it symbolizes the affliction they had endured in Egypt. Jesus’ words, therefore, recalled this emblematic power already present in the Passover meal.
The historical reality is that Jesus stood before them and had not yet had his body broken nor his blood shed. He called the wine (“this is”) the “blood of the covenant which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” That blood had not yet been shed, for, in accord with the covenant, it would be shed, poured out, but once to accomplish forgiveness. The book of Hebrews gives clarity that the reality of that historical event cannot be duplicated; in fact, it need not be duplicated for in completing the covenantal provisions it was sufficient once and for all (Hebrews 7:27; 9:12, 15, 24-28; 10:9, 10, 14, 18; 13:20, 21).
The symbols are to remind us of the perfect satisfaction provided by Christ in his once-for-all death on the cross. They do not draw attention to themselves as having any efficacy, but to the single event in which reconciliation occurred. He poured out his blood for many and in that death he brought to justification the many for whom he died: “By his knowledge my righteous servant shall justify many, for he shall bear their iniquities . . . He poured out his soul unto death . . . He bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors” (Isaiah 53:11,12).
If the disciples partook of his actual body, as yet unbroken and unbruised, did they partake of his mortal, unresurrected, unglorified body, or did they partake of the body that did not yet exist? Do we partake of the same body that they did, if in fact we take his literal body? Do we partake of the body as it was before his resurrection or after his resurrection? Or does Christ still have both a mortal body capable of death and a glorified body incapable of death? Or is this more likely symbolic language that draws our adoration to the great redemptive transaction on Calvary? For that purpose, he took on a body that he might die in our nature to give eternal life to our nature: “Sacrifices and offerings you have not desired, but a body you have prepared for me; . . . I have come to do your will, O God. . . . And by that will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all” (Hebrews 10:5-10). The body that was offered once satisfied forever for the forgiveness of sins and the sanctification of the believer. That body was glorified in the resurrection, and never will be offered again.
Salvation comes not through any kind of intrinsic efficacy in the material elements of bread and wine themselves; rather it resides in the satisfaction of divine wrath justly manifested in time and space on one of our race who could lawfully, ontologically, and morally stand in as our substitute. Jesus was morally qualified to suffer vicariously for he had no transgression of the law as his own for which he must die. He was truly man and stood as our covenant head. He had a human body, a human mind, a human spirit all of which must endure fully the divine wrath due his people. This he did during his hours on the cross and finished the suffering. The confession insisted, “In this ordinance Christ is not offered up to his Father, nor any real sacrifice made at all, for remission of sin for the quick or dead; but only a memorial of that one offering up of himself, by himself, upon the cross, once for all” (2). No more will his blood be shed nor his body broken. His life was poured out with his blood on the cross and there is no occasion in which the blood of the covenant must be poured out again.
To the internalization by faith of this historic work the Lord’s Supper calls us. The Confession says, “Worthy receivers, outwardly partaking of the visible elements in this ordinance, do then also inwardly by faith, really and indeed, yet not carnally, and corporally, but spiritually receive, and feed upon Christ crucified & all the benefits of his death.” This does not mean that his body has spiritual presence in and of itself; that would be contradictory to the nature of the body. “Behold my hands and my feet, that it I myself. Handle me and see, for a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see I have” (Luke 24: 39). It means that we contemplate with our whole mind and affections the claim that such a death has on us and that we long for the continued transforming power of the gospel in our lives. The confession confirms this in continuing “The body and blood of Christ, being then not corporally, or carnally, but spiritually present to the faith of Believers, in that ordinance, as the elements themselves are to their outward senses” (30: 7). By faith in the completed work of Christ, the emblematic presentation of that once-for-all substitution for our sake, gives spiritual conviction and energy to the believer. By Jesus’ omnipresence and by his perpetual intercession, the believer has a heightened sense at the time of the Supper that “we have an advocate before the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous one” (1 John 2:1).
It is a memorial. It is a “perpetual remembrance and shewing forth the sacrifice in his death” (30: 1).The passages in Luke 22 and in 1 Corinthians 11 point to the reality that, in partaking of the Lord’s Supper, we remember what he did. Luke 22:19 recorded the words, “Do this in remembrance of me” after the giving of the bread. In 1 Corinthians 11:23-26, Paul gives a straightforward presentation in which he records Jesus using the words of remembrance after both the bread and the wine. After breaking the bread, Jesus said, “This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” When he took the cup he said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”
As they were taking the Passover, Jesus gave a simplified partaking of elements. The Passover had been predictive and prospective. Their partaking of the lamb was to serve as a promise of redemption. The yearly celebration reminded them of the promise, that God would provide a lamb in the future who would take away the sins, not of the Jews only, but of the world. As Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper, he presented it as a memorial. Its future celebrations would look to that which already was accomplished and was retrospective of the past work of Christ. This symbolic drama was to be surveyed by the heart in calling to mind the greatness of the sacrifice. Each recipient can say with Isaac Watts, “When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died, my richest gain I count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride.”
The element of the prospective was reinserted as we now look to the coming-again of the Lord in his glorified body. As the supper points to faith in that which has been done in his body, so it points to hope in that which will be done in our body: “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself” (Philippians 3:20, 21). “Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him” (Hebrews 9:28).
We do not look to the elements of which we partake at that moment as having redemptive significance in themselves, but only as they point us to the historic, time-space sacrifice of Christ. The symbols call us to look to Christ himself, presently interceding for us on the basis of the blood he shed at Calvary. In remembering, the participants actively press their minds to recall the biblical presentation of the historic event of redemption. This memorial presents an objective assurance that, once for all, Christ endured the portion of wrath due to them, so that “in him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sin” (Ephesians 1:7).
This event in the worship of the church is a time of proclamation of the gospel, for “we proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” It is a time of preaching the gospel to our own souls for we partake of bread and wine in active remembrance of Jesus as the only redeemer. We do this in a sense of worship, with reverence, and repentant humility for this must be taken in a worthy manner lest we betray a heart that yet has not felt the gravity of Christ’s sacrifice and we remain, not redeemed, but “guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord.” It is, therefore, a time of sober examination, calling for deep discernment of the reason that Christ was given a body, a necessary sufferer in our stead. It is not a time for the careless or curious, the one merely fascinated by the quaintness of the process, but for the body of believers to “come together” to worship the one who underwent judgment for us.

[1] Parts of this article come from a chapter in an upcoming book  published by Founders Press entitled Praise is His Gracious Choice.
[2] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles, 2 vols (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1960, 2006) 2:1290.
[3] Huldreich Zwingli, “An Exposition of the Faith,” in Zwingli and Bullinger, trans. G. W. Bromiley (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1953), 259.

Tweet Share

Few things are more important than knowing and understanding God’s holiness. Proverbs 9:10 says, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.” If we want to have any wisdom at all or if we want to begin to make any progress in understanding God, ourselves, and the world, then we must seek to know the Holy One.

After understanding the meaning of God’s holiness as best we can with our humanity, we are left with a significant question for consideration: how does the holiness of God impact His relationship with us as sinners?

The Bible spends a great deal of time unpacking the meaning of God’s holiness and establishing the reality that we are sinners. Unlike the general view of the world about the goodness of people, the Bible’s description of mortal beings is not merely that we are sinful people, but that we are totally depraved. Apart from Christ, every person is dead in and in love with sin, rebellious against God, detestable, and deceived – not only about God – but about their own heart. This truth about sinners only makes sense when we arrive at the correct understanding about the absolute holiness of God.

If we want to have any wisdom at all or if we want to begin to make any progress in understanding God, ourselves, and the world, then we must seek to know the Holy One.

There is a massive tension when God, who is holy, interacts with people who are not – and many people cannot grasp this concept.

First, we must understand that God’s holiness ensures wrath on sinners.

This is one reason why we don’t like to talk about God’s holiness – because it inevitably leads to the necessary conclusion that God’s wrath comes upon the wicked. There are many clear statements that bear this out, starting with Psalm 5:4-6. Here, the Psalmist gives us an unmistakable statement about God’s hatred of wickedness. God does not merely hate wickedness in some abstract sense, nor does He merely hate wicked things people do because they harm others. Rather, God hates all who do iniquity. God’s holiness means that God destroys all those who speak falsehood, which is just another way of saying ‘everyone who is a sinner.’ God abhors liars and violent people.

We have several examples of this playing out in Scripture. In Genesis 6, we observe a narrative of God in His holiness, looking at humanity, examining the heart, intentions, and deeds. When God looks at humanity from every angle, all He sees is continual evil. God’s response is total destruction of the world and an uncreation of creation. The wrath of God comes, not just on one person, family, or nation, but on the entire world. This response of God should not be shocking if we understand that God is holy, because when God’s holiness comes upon mankind’s sin, wrath is the outcome.

Thankfully, God’s holiness also ensures grace for sinners.

No one should be surprised that God’s holiness is the basis of His wrath toward sinners, and yet it is unexpected to learn that God’s holiness is also the foundation of His grace toward sinners. This fact is crucial because it gives legs to our faith; it gives certainty to our hearts; and it strengthens us when we discover that God’s grace is not arbitrary whimsical, mutable, or temporary. Because God is holy, He does not always bring wrath on sinners but shows mercy and grace.

There is no greater example of this reality than the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. As we see in Psalm 22 (words which Jesus uttered on the cross), what gave Jesus the courage, strength, and fortitude to go through the cross, enduring the holy wrath of God even though He was righteous and holy Himself – was that God was holy (v. 3). God’s holiness was Christ’s strength as He suffered and died for the sins of humanity.

Christ knew that God’s holy character provided the absolute confidence that God would be faithful to His covenant promises. God’s perfect holiness meant that Jesus’ death would not be in vain and that the promises of God to bring salvation to His people would be fulfilled. On the cross, the Messiah looked back at the fathers who trusted God and were delivered, and He knew God would deliver Him from death through the resurrection because God is holy. What an amazing reality to consider that God’s holiness not only ensures wrath upon sinners but grace for sinners.

God’s holiness was Christ’s strength as He suffered and died for the sins of humanity.

Finally, the consequence of God’s holiness depends on the offering the sinner brings.

Here’s the question: When individuals come before a holy God, what should they bring to make them acceptable to their Lord? Every sinner comes before God with an offering or some reason for God to accept him. Whether sinners incur God’s wrath or receive His grace depends on what they bring into His presence for their sins.

This is graphically and tragically played out for us in Leviticus 9-10. God explicitly commands the priests not to offer something on the altar that is strange, foreign, or outside the prescribed offerings – or there will be consequences. Nadab and Abihu ignored that command and were consumed; their sacrifice was rejected. As this passage instructs us, when people come into the presence of God, if they do not come with a sacrifice that atones for their sins, the holiness of God will consume them.

All the Old Testament sacrifices were a picture of the one, final, true sacrifice that God would provide for the sins of His people: the Lord Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. It is only this sacrifice that God accepts to atone for the sins of sinners. If we are reading Leviticus 9-10 correctly, we will understand this very important truth: if people come to God with anything other than the blood of Jesus Christ to atone for their sins, they will be destroyed by His holiness in wrath.

A line from the old hymn “Rock of Ages” sums up this theme so well: “Nothing in my hand I bring, simply to Thy cross I cling.” We do not come to Christ with anything of value, worth, or merit. Rather, we come as sinners in need of a Savior and all our trust is in Christ.

It is vital we do not forget the holiness of God. His holiness is our anchor during the dark night of the soul. When Satan tempts, condemns, accuses, or tells us we are unworthy, doubtful, fearful, wicked, ungodly people, we recognize that, though our faith might sometimes be weak, our God is not. He is holy and will meet us with grace through Jesus Christ.

The following sermon was delivered at Kettering, in 1803, at a time when the UK was being threatened with invasion by Napoleon. Andrew Fuller was a leader of the Particular Baptists of England and instrumental in the formation of the Particular Baptist Society for the Propagation of the Gospel Amongst the Heathen (later known as the Baptist Missionary Society and today as BMS World Mission)

Christian Patriotism
Andrew Fuller
“And seek the peace of the city whither I have caused you to be carried away captives, and pray unto the Lord for it; for in the peace thereof shall ye have peace.” — Jer. 29:7.
In the course of human events, cases may be expected to occur in which a serious mind may be at a loss with respect to the path of duty. Presuming, my brethren, that such may be the situation of some of you, at this momentous crisis—a crisis in which your country, menaced by an unprincipled, powerful, and malignant foe, calls upon you to arm in its defence—I take the liberty of freely imparting to you my sentiments on the subject.
When a part of the Jewish people were carried captives to Babylon, ten years, or thereabouts, before the entire ruin of the city and temple, they must have felt much at a loss in determining upon what was duty. Though Jeconiah, their king, was carried captive with them, yet the government was still continued under Zedekiah; and there were not wanting prophets, such as they were, who encouraged in them the hopes of a speedy return. To settle their minds on this subject, Jeremiah, the prophet, addressed the following letter to them, in the name of the Lord:—“Thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, unto all that are carried away captives, whom I have caused to be carried away from Jerusalem unto Babylon: Build ye houses, and dwell in them; and plant gardens, and eat the fruit of them; take ye wives, and beget sons and daughters; and take wives for your sons, and give your daughters to husbands, that they may bear sons and daughters; that ye may be increased there, and not diminished: and seek the peace of the city whither I have caused you to be carried away captives, and pray unto the Lord for it; for in the peace thereof shall ye have peace.”
I do not suppose that the case of these people corresponds exactly with ours; but the difference is of such a nature as to heighten our obligations. They were in a foreign land; a land where there was nothing to excite their attachment, but every thing to provoke their dislike. They had enjoyed all the advantages of freedom and independence, but were now reduced to a state of slavery. Nor were they enslaved only: to injury was added insult. They that led them captive required of them mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” Revenge, in such circumstances, must have seemed natural; and if a foreign invader, like Cyrus, had placed an army before their walls, it had been excusable, one would have thought, not only to have wished him success, but if an opportunity had offered, to have joined an insurrection in aid of him: yet nothing like this is allowed. When Cyrus actually took this great city, it does not appear that the Jews did any thing to assist him. Their duty was to seek the welfare of the city, and to pray to the Lord for it, leaving it to the great Disposer of all events to deliver them in his own time; and this not merely as being right, but wise: “In their peace ye shall have peace.”
Now if such was the duty of men in their circumstances, can there be any doubt with respect to ours? Ought we not to seek the good of our native land; the land of our fathers’ sepulchres: a land where we are protected by mild and wholesome laws, administered under a paternal prince; a land where civil and religious freedom are enjoyed in a higher degree than in any other country in Europe; a land where God has been known for many centuries as a refuge; a land, in fine, where there are greater opportunities for propagating the gospel, both at home and abroad, than in any other nation under heaven? Need I add to this, that the invader was to them a deliverer; but to us, beyond all doubt, would be a destroyer?
Our object, this evening, will be, partly to inquire into the duty of religious people towards their country, and partly to consider the motive by which it is enforced.
I. Inquire into the duty of religious people towards their country. Though, as Christians, we are not of the world, and ought not to be conformed to it; yet, being in it, we are under various obligations to those about us. As husbands, wives, parents, children, masters, servants, &c., we cannot be insensible that others have a claim upon us, as well as we upon them; and it is the same as members of a community united under one civil government. If we were rulers, our country would have a serious claim upon us as rulers; and, as we are subjects, it has a serious claim upon us as subjects. The manner in which we discharge these relative duties contributes not a little to the formation of our character, both in the sight of God and man.
The directions given to the Jewish captives were comprised in two things; “seeking the peace of the city,” and “praying to the Lord for it.” These directions are very comprehensive; and apply to us, as we have seen, much more forcibly than they did to the people to whom they were immediately addressed. Let us inquire, more particularly, what is included in them.
Seek the peace of the city. The term here rendered peace (שלם) signifies not merely an exemption from wars and insurrections, but prosperity in general. It amounts, therefore, to saying, Seek the good or welfare of the city. Such, brethren, is the conduct required of us, as men and as Christians. We ought to be patriots, or lovers of our country.
To prevent mistakes, however, it is proper to observe that the patriotism required of us is not that love of our country which clashes with universal benevolence, or which seeks its prosperity at the expense of the general happiness of mankind. Such was the patriotism of Greece and Rome; and such is that of all others where Christian principle is not allowed to direct it. Such, I am ashamed to say, is that with which some have advocated the cause of negro slavery. It is necessary, forsooth, to the wealth of this country! No; if my country cannot prosper but at the expense of justice, humanity, and the happiness of mankind, let it be unprosperous! But this is not the case. Righteousness will be found to exalt a nation, and so to be true wisdom. The prosperity which we are directed to seek in behalf of our country involves no ill to any one, except to those who shall attempt its overthrow. Let those who fear not God, nor regard man, engage in schemes of aggrandizement, and let sordid parasites pray for their success. Our concern is to cultivate that patriotism which harmonizes with good-will to men. O my country, I will lament thy faults! Yet, with all thy faults, I will seek thy good; not only as a Briton, but as a Christian: “for my brethren and companions’ sakes, I will say, Peace be within thee: because of the house of the Lord my God, I will seek thy good!”
If we seek the good of our country, we shall certainly do nothing, and join in nothing, that tends to disturb its peace, or hinder its welfare. Whoever engages in plots and conspiracies to overturn its constitution, we shall not. Whoever deals in inflammatory speeches, or in any manner sows the seeds of discontent and disaffection, we shall not. Whoever labours to depreciate its governors, supreme or subordinate, in a manner tending to bring government itself into contempt, we shall not. Even in cases wherein we may be compelled to disapprove of measures, we shall either be silent, or express our disapprobation with respect and with regret. A dutiful son may see a fault in a father; but he will not take pleasure in exposing him. He that can employ his wit in degrading magistrates is not their friend, but their enemy; and he that is an enemy to magistrates is not far from being an enemy to magistracy, and, of course, to his country. A good man may be aggrieved; and, being so, may complain. Paul did so at Philippi. But the character of a complainer belongs only to those who walk after their own lusts.
If we seek the good of our country, we shall do every thing in our power to promote its welfare. We shall not think it sufficient that we do it no harm, or that we stand still as neutrals, in its difficulties. If, indeed, our spirits be tainted with disaffection, we shall be apt to think we do great things by standing aloof from conspiracies, and refraining from inflammatory speeches; but this is no more than may be accomplished by the greatest traitor in the land, merely as a matter of prudence. It becomes Christians to bear positive good-will to their country, and to its government, considered as government, irrespective of the political party which may have the ascendency. We may have our preferences, and that without blame; but they ought never to prevent a cheerful obedience to the laws, a respectful demeanour towards those who frame and those who execute them, or a ready co-operation in every measure which the being or well-being of the nation may require. The civil power, whatever political party is uppermost, while it maintains the great ends of government, ought, at all times, to be able to reckon upon religious people as its cordial friends; and if such we be, we shall be willing, in times of difficulty, to sacrifice private interest to public good; shall contribute of our substance without murmuring; and, in cases of imminent danger, shall be willing to expose even our lives in its defence.
As the last of these particulars is a subject which deeply interests us at the present juncture, I shall be excused if I endeavour to establish the grounds on which I conceive its obligation to rest.
We know that the father of the faithful, who was only a sojourner in the land of Canaan, when his kinsman Lot with his family were taken captives by a body of plunderers, armed his trained servants, pursued the victors, and bravely recovered the spoil. It was on this occasion that Melchizedek blessed him, saying, “Blessed be Abraham of the most high God, possessor of heaven and earth: and blessed be the most high God, who hath delivered thine enemies into thine hand!”
Perhaps it will be said, This was antecedent to the times of the New Testament; Jesus taught his disciples not to resist evil; and when Peter drew his sword, he ordered him to put it up again; saying, “All they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.”
You know, my brethren, I have always deprecated war, as one of the greatest calamities; but it does not follow, hence, that I must consider it in all cases unlawful.
Christianity, I allow, is a religion of peace; and whenever it universally prevails, in the spirit and power of it, wars will be unknown. But so will every other species of injustice; yet, while the world is as it is, some kind of resistance to injustice is necessary, though it may at some future time become unnecessary. If our Saviour’s command that we resist not evil be taken literally and universally, it must have been wrong for Paul to have remonstrated against the magistrates at Philippi; and he himself would not have reproved the person who smote him at the judgment-seat.
I allow that the sword is the last weapon to which we should have recourse. As individuals, it may be lawful, by this instrument, to defend ourselves or our families against the attacks of an assassin; but, perhaps, this is the only case in which it is so; and even there, if it were possible to disarm and confine the party, it were much rather to be chosen than in that manner to take away his life. Christianity does not allow us, in any case, to retaliate from a principle of revenge. In ordinary injuries it teaches patience and forbearance. If an adversary “smite us on one cheek,” we had better “turn to him the other also,” than go about to avenge our own wrongs. The laws of honour, as acted upon in high life, are certainly in direct opposition to the laws of Christ; and various retaliating maxims, ordinarily practised among men, will no doubt be found among the works of the flesh.
And if, as nations, we were to act on Christian principles, we should never engage in war but for our own defence; nor for that, till every method of avoiding it had been tried in vain.
Once more, It is allowed that Christians, as such, are not permitted to have recourse to the sword, for the purpose of defending themselves against persecution for the gospel’s sake. No weapon is admissible in this warfare but truth, whatever be the consequence. We may remonstrate, as Paul did at Philippi, and our Lord himself, when unjustly smitten; but it appears to me that this is all. When Peter drew his sword, it was with a desire to rescue his Master from the persecuting hands of his enemies, in the same spirit as when he opposed his going up to Jerusalem; in both which instances he was in the wrong: and the saying of our Saviour, that “all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword,” has commonly been verified, in this sense of it.
I believe it will be found, that when Christians have resorted to the sword in order to resist persecution for the gospel’s sake, as did the Albigenses, the Bohemians, the French protestants, and some others, within the last six hundred years, the issue has commonly been, that they have perished by it; that is, they have been overcome by their enemies, and exterminated: whereas, in cases where their only weapons have been “the blood of the Lamb, and the word of their testimony, loving not their lives unto death,” they have overcome. Like Israel in Egypt, the more they have been afflicted, the more they have increased.
But none of these things prove it unlawful to take up arms as members of civil society, when called upon to do so for the defence of our country. The ground on which our Saviour refused to let his servants fight for him, that he should not be delivered into the hands of the Jews, was, that his was a kingdom “not of this world;” plainly intimating that if his kingdom had been of this world, a contrary line of conduct had been proper. Now this is what every other kingdom is: it is right, therefore, according to our Lord’s reasoning, that the subjects of all civil states should, as such, when required, fight in defence of them.
Has not Christianity, I ask, in the most decided manner recognized civil government, by requiring Christians to be subject to it? Has it not expressly authorized the legal use of the sword? Christians are warned that the magistrate “beareth not the sword in vain;” and that he is “the minister of God, a revenger, to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil.” But if it be right for the magistrate to bear the sword, and to use it upon evil-doers within the realm, it cannot be wrong to use it in repelling invaders from without; and if it be right on the part of the magistrate, it is right that the subject should assist him in it; for otherwise, his power would be merely nominal, and he would indeed “bear the sword in vain.”
We have not been used, in things of a civil and moral nature, to consider one law as made for the religious part of a nation, and another for the irreligious. Whatever is the duty of one, allowing for different talents and situations in life, is the duty of all. If, therefore, it be not binding upon the former to unite in every necessary measure for the support of civil government, neither is it upon the latter; and if it be binding upon neither, it must follow that civil government itself ought not to be supported, and that the whole world should be left to become a prey to anarchy or despotism.
Further, If the use of arms were, of itself, and in all cases, inconsistent with Christianity, it were a sin to be a soldier:but nothing like this is held out to us in the New Testament. On the contrary, we there read of two believing centurions;and neither of them was reproved on account of his office, or required to relinquish it. We also read of publicans and soldiers who came to John to be baptized, each asking, “What shall we do?” The answer to both proceeds on the same principle: they are warned against the abuses of their respective employments; but the employments themselves are tacitly allowed to be lawful. To the one he said, “Exact no more than that which is appointed you:” to the other, “Do violence to no man, neither accuse any falsely, and be content with your wages.” If either of these occupations had been in itself sinful, or inconsistent with that kingdom which it was John’s grand object to announce, and into the faith of which his disciples were baptized, he ought, on this occasion, to have said so, or, at least, not to have said that which implies the contrary.
If it be objected that the sinfulness of war would not lie so much at the door of the centurions and soldiers as of the government by whose authority it was proclaimed and executed, I allow there is considerable force in this; but yet, if the thing itself were necessarily, and in all cases, sinful, every party voluntarily concerned in it must have been a partaker of the guilt, though it were in different degrees.
But granting, it may be said, that war is not, in itself, necessarily sinful; yet it becomes so by the injustice with which it is commonly undertaken and conducted. It is no part of my design to become the apologist of injustice, on whatever scale it might be practised. But if wars be allowed to be generally undertaken and conducted without a regard to justice, it does not follow that they are always so; and still less that war itself is sinful. In ascertaining the justice or injustice of war, we have nothing to do with the motives of those who engage in it. The question is, Whether it be in itself unjust? If it appeared so to me, I should think it my duty to stand aloof from it as far as possible.
There is one thing, however, that requires to be noticed. Before we condemn any measure as unjust, we ought to be in possession of the means of forming a just judgment concerning it.
If a difference arise only between two families, or two individuals, though every person in the neighbourhood may be talking and giving his opinion upon it; yet it is easy to perceive that no one of them is competent to pronounce upon the justice or injustice of either side, till he has acquainted himself with all the circumstances of the case, by patiently hearing it on both sides. How much less, then, are we able to judge of the differences of nations, which are generally not a little complex, both in their origin and bearings; and of which we know but little, but through the channel of newspapers and vague reports! It is disgusting to hear people, whom no one would think of employing to decide upon a common difference between two neighbours, take upon them to pronounce, with the utmost freedom, upon the justice or injustice of national differences. Where those who are constitutionally appointed to judge in such matters have decided in favour of war, however painful it may be to my feelings, as a friend of mankind, I consider it my duty to submit, and to think well of their decision, till, by a careful and impartial examination of the grounds of the contest, I am compelled to think otherwise.
After all, there may be cases in which injustice may wear so prominent a feature, that every thinking and impartial mind shall be capable of perceiving it; and where it does so, the public sense of it will and ought to be expressed. In the present instance, however, there seems to be no ground of hesitation. In arming to resist a threatened invasion, we merely act on the defensive; and not to resist an enemy, whose ambition, under the pretence of liberating mankind, has carried desolation wherever he has gone, were to prove ourselves unworthy of the blessings we enjoy. Without taking upon me to decide on the original grounds of the difference, the question at issue with us is, Is it right that any one nation should seek absolutely to ruin another, and that other not be warranted, and even obliged, to resist it? That such is the object of the enemy, at this time, cannot be reasonably doubted. If my country were engaged in an attempt to ruin France, as a nation, it would be a wicked undertaking; and if I were fully convinced of it, I should both hope and pray that they might be disappointed. Surely, then, I may be equally interested in behalf of my native land!
But there is another duty which we owe to our country; which is, That we pray to the Lord for it. It is supposed that religious people are a praying people. The godly Israelites, when carried into Babylon, were banished from temple-worship; but they still had access to their God. The devotional practice of Daniel was well known among the great men of that city, and proved the occasion of a conspiracy against his life. King Darius knew so much of the character of the Jews as to request an interest in their prayers, in behalf of himself and his sons. My brethren, your country claims an interest in yours; and I trust that, if no such claim were preferred, you would, of your own accord, remember it.
You are aware that all our dependence, as a nation, is upon God; and, therefore, should importune his assistance. After all the struggles for power, you know that in his sight all the inhabitants of the world are reputed as nothing: he doth according to his will in the army of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand, or say unto him, What doest thou? Indeed this has been acknowledged, and at times sensibly felt, by irreligious characters; but in general the great body of a nation, it is to be feared, think but little about it. Their dependence is upon an arm of flesh. It may be said, without uncharitableness, of many of our commanders, both by sea and land, as was said of Cyrus, God hath girded them, though they have not known him. But by how much you perceive a want of prayer and dependence on God in your countrymen, by so much more should you be concerned, as much as in you lies, to supply the defect. “The prayer of a righteous man availeth much.”
You are also aware, in some measure, of the load of guilt that lies upon your country; and should therefore supplicate mercy on its behalf. I acknowledge myself to have much greater fear from this quarter than from the boasting menaces of a vain man. If our iniquities provoke not the Lord to deliver us into his hand, his schemes and devices will come to nothing. When I think, among other things, of the detestable traffic before alluded to, in which we have taken so conspicuous a part, and have shed so much innocent blood, I tremble! When we have fasted and prayed, I have seemed to hear the voice of God, saying unto us, “Loose the bands of wickedness, undo the heavy burdens, let the oppressed go free, and break every yoke!” Yet, peradventure, for his own name’s sake, or from a regard to his own cause, which is here singularly protected, the Lord may hearken to our prayers, and save us from deserved ruin. We know that Sodom itself would have been spared if ten righteous men could have been found in her. I proceed to consider,
II. The motive by which these duties are enforced: “In the peace thereof shall ye have peace.”
The Lord hath so wisely and mercifully interwoven the interests of mankind as to furnish motives to innumerable acts of justice and kindness. We cannot injure others, nor even refrain from doing them good, without injuring ourselves.
The interests of individuals and families are closely connected with those of a country. If the latter prosper, generally speaking, so do the former; and if the one be ruined, so must the other. It is impossible to describe, or to conceive beforehand, with any degree of accuracy, the miseries which the success of a foreign enemy, such as we have to deal with, must occasion to private families. To say nothing of the loss of property among the higher and middle classes of people, (which must be severely felt, as plunder will, undoubtedly, be the grand stimulus of an invading army,) who can calculate the loss of lives? Who can contemplate, without horror, the indecent excesses of a victorious, unprincipled, and brutal soldiery? Let not the poorest man say, I have nothing to lose. Yes, if men of opulence lose their property, you will lose your employment. You have also a cottage, and perhaps a wife and family, with whom, amidst all your hardships, you live in love; and would it be nothing to you to see your wife and daughters abused, and you yourself unable to protect them, or even to remonstrate, but at the hazard of being thrust through with the bayonet? If no other considerations will induce us to protect our country, and pray to the Lord for it, our own individual and domestic comfort might suffice.
To this may be added, our interests as Christians, no less than as men and as families, are interwoven with the well-being of our country. If Christians, while they are in the world, are, as has been already noticed, under various relative obligations, it is not without their receiving, in return, various relative advantages. What those advantages are we should know to our grief, were we once to lose them. So long have we enjoyed religious liberty in this country, that I fear we are become too insensible of its value. At present we worship God without interruption. What we might be permitted to do under a government which manifestly hates Christianity, and tolerates it even at home only as a matter of policy, we know not. This, however, is well known, that a large proportion of those unprincipled men, in our own country, who have been labouring to overturn its constitution, have a deep-rooted enmity to the religion of Jesus. May the Lord preserve us, and every part of the united kingdom, from their machinations!
Some among us, to whatever extremities we may be reduced, will be incapable of bearing arms; but they may assist by their property, and in various other ways: even the hands of the aged poor, like those of Moses, may be lifted up in prayer; while their countrymen, and it may be their own children, are occupying the post of danger. I know it is the intention of several whom I now address freely to offer their services at this important period. Should you, dear young people, be called forth in the arduous contest, you will expect an interest in our prayers. Yes, and you will have it. Every one of us, every parent, wife, or Christian friend, if they can pray for any thing, will importune the Lord of hosts to cover your heads in the day of battle!
Finally, It affords satisfaction to my mind to be persuaded that you will avail yourselves of the liberty granted to you of declining to learn your exercise on the Lord’s day. Were you called to resist the landing of the enemy on that day, or any other work of necessity, you would not object to it; but, in other cases, I trust, you will. “Render to Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s.”[1]

[1] Andrew Gunton Fuller, The Complete Works of Andrew Fuller: Memoirs, Sermons, Etc., ed. Joseph Belcher, vol. 1 (Harrisonburg, VA: Sprinkle Publications, 1988), 202–209.

Tweet Share