Mark 9:1-10 And he said to them, Truly I say to you, That there be some of them that stand here, which shall not taste of death… Vivid emotions are, by the law of their being, transient. They cannot last. Possibly, their very intensity is, roughly speaking, the measure of their evanescence. Souls cannot live and work on day by day with the emotions at high pressure. Now, what is to be said of these Occasional times of excited feeling? I. THAT NO MAN MUST TAKE RELIGIOUS FEELING FOR RELIGION. But after that, what? That all such excited feelings are false, and hollow, and perilous, and must, therefore, be at once suppressed? That plain, simple obedience to God's will is all in all, and, therefore, all deep emotions are evil and to be avoided? Surely, no. Surely, the true thing to be said is this, that God gives these periods of strong feeling as mighty helps to our weak and wavering courage; that they are a spur to the halting obedience, and a goad to the reluctant will. True, these feelings must be guided and regulated and led into practical channels, else, of course, they will run to waste, and leave behind them only the barrenness of a field, over which the flood has rushed headlong in its devastating course. I am not speaking of ungoverned and fanatical excitement, but of deep and powerful religious emotion, when I say that God gives it to carry us by its force over the earlier difficulties of the new and converted life, or to nerve us to resolutions and set us upon courses of action, which would, probably, be impossible to the calculating calmness of dispassionate reason. But I think, my brethren, these times of unusual religious fervour have another use. They open to the soul visions of a state of love, and joy, and heavenly mindedness, which, if afterwards they turn into nothing but regret and longing, nevertheless, leave behind them a blessing. It is good for the weary toiler, conscious of his cold, shallow heartedness, the poverty of his faith, and love, and hope, to be able to say, though sighing as he says it: — "I have known the blessedness of a bright, triumphant faith. I have understood what it is to pray with holy fervour." Can it be well to say, "I have known," when it were so much better to be able to say, "I know"? Yes, I think it is well; for, if he be wise who says it, he will know that these higher, deeper, keener feelings cannot be always with him. He will gather up the truths and the duties they have brought to him, as we gather up the bright shells and gem-like pebbles on the seashore when the spring tide has ebbed. Those will be kept, when the surging waves that bore them to our feet have retired. He will regard the swelling of his emotions, when the sun of God's grace has melted the snow of his chilled heart as the overflow of a river; and he will no more expect the flow of his religious feeling to maintain the fulness and force to which it has at times risen, than he would expect a river to be always at the flood. Let us once realize that these more vivid religious emotions are occasional helps and not permanent states, that they reveal to us what might be, but for the weakness and earthliness of our nature, and are in themselves no proofs of high attainments of grace, and then we may thank God for them, and not be afraid or ashamed to say, "I have known," when we dare not say, "I know." II. HOW FAR IS RELIGIOUS EMOTION TO FORM ANY PART OF OUR DAILY RELIGIOUS LIFE; OR, IN OTHER WORDS, HOW FAR ARE THE FEELINGS TO BE REGULARLY EMPLOYED IN THE SERVICE OF GOD? What shall we say as to ordinary religious emotion? Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Assuredly, as I repeat, our feelings were not given us for the purpose of being crushed out. Our religion is not one of mere dry duty. The very fact that love holds so prominent a place in it is a proof that, at least, some amount of religious feeling is necessary for a true religious life. But I would ask this: If we read our Bibles candidly, does it not seem that a greater amount of religious emotion is expected to find place in the daily life of Christian men than is commonly felt or commonly supposed? St. Paul was a most thoroughly practical man, eminently a man of action, always up and doing. He surely was one who would scorn to let feeling take the place of obedience, or to suffer the simple daily duties of life to escape under the cloak of heavenly aspirations and high-flown sentiment; yet, if anything is plain in his Epistles, it is that the life of duty, however rigid and self-sacrificing, without love, joy, peace — a life of obedience, in other words, without emotion, would utterly fail to satisfy him. Has, in a word, even excitement no work to do, no end to answer, in the daily Christian life? Take any keen, eager, impulsive, excitable person, may I not believe that God gave such person the power of quick impulse and eager aspiration for some worthy end? What is that end, my brethren? Is it to enjoy a ball, or a novel, or a sport? One would really think so when one hears of so many people who, themselves keenly enjoying all manner of worldly amusements, and throwing themselves into them heart and soul, as we say, when they see others as keenly and engrossingly giving themselves to religious occupations, settle the matter with a self-satisfied smile by saying, "Oh, it is all excitement!" Might it not be a better way of looking at it if they should think and say, "I don't know how such an one can enjoy so much religion. I only know I don't and can't. I wish I could. I wish I could take delight in high and holy things." (Bishop Walsham How.) Parallel Verses KJV: And he said unto them, Verily I say unto you, That there be some of them that stand here, which shall not taste of death, till they have seen the kingdom of God come with power. |
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