They were stoned
Martyrdom:
The word “martyr” properly means “a witness,” but is used to denote exclusively one who has suffered death for the Christian faith.
Our Lord Jesus Christ is the chief and most glorious of Martyrs, as having “before Pontius Pilate witnessed a good confession” (1 Timothy 6:13); but we do not call Him a martyr, as being much more than a martyr. He was not only a martyr; He was an atoning sacrifice. He is the supreme object of our love, gratitude, and reverence. Next to Him we honour the noble army of martyrs; not indeed comparing them with Him, “who is above all, God blessed for ever,” or as if they in suffering had any part in the work of reconciliation, but because they have approached most closely to His pattern of all His servants. Now it may be said that many men suffer pain, as great as martyrdom, from disease, and in other ways: again, that it does not follow that those who happened to be martyred were always the most useful and active defenders of the faith; and therefore that in honouring the martyrs we are honouring with especial honour those to whom indeed we may be peculiarly indebted (as in the case of apostles), but nevertheless who may have been but ordinary men, who happened to stand in the most exposed place, in the way of persecution, and were slain as if by chance, because the sword met them first. But this, it is plain, would be a strange way of reasoning in any parallel case. We are grateful to those who have done us favours, rather than to those who might or would, if it had so happened. But in truth, if we could view the matter considerately, we shall find that (as far as human judgment can decide on such a point), the martyrs of the primitive times were, as such, men of a very elevated faith; not only our benefactors, but far our superiors. For let us consider what it was then to be a martyr.
1. It was to be a voluntary sufferer. Men, perhaps, suffer in various diseases more than the martyrs did, but they cannot help themselves. Again, it has frequently happened that men have been persecuted for their religion without having expected it, or being able to avert it. These in one sense indeed are martyrs; and we naturally think affectionately of those who have suffered in our cause, whether voluntarily or not. But this was not the ease with the primitive martyrs. They knew beforehand clearly enough the consequences of preaching the gospel; they had frequent warnings brought home to them of the sufferings in store for them if they persevered in their labours of brotherly love. Death, their final suffering, was but the concummation of a life of anticipated death. Consider how distressing anxiety is; how irritating and wearing it is to be in constant excitement, with the duty of maintaining calmness and steadiness in the midst of it; and how especially inviting any prospect of tranquillity would appear in such circumstances; and then we shall have some notion of a
Christian’s condition under a persecuting heathen government. I put aside for the present the peculiar reproach and contempt which was the lot of the primitive Church, and their actual privations. Let us merely consider them as harassed, shaken as wheat in a sieve. Under such circumstances the stoutest hearts are in danger of failing. Thus the Church is sifted, the cowardly falling off, the faithful continuing firm, though in dejection and perplexity. Among these latter are the martyrs; not accidental victims, taken at random, but the picked and choice ones, the elect remnant, a sacrifice well pleasing to God, because a costly gift, the finest wheat flour of the Chinch: men who have been warned what to expect from their profession, and have had many opportunities of relinquishing it, but have “borne and had patience, and for Christ’s name sake have laboured and have not fainted.”
2. But, in the next place, the suffering itself of martyrdom was in some respects peculiar. It was a death, cruel in itself, publicly inflicted, and heightened by the fierce exultation of a malevolent populace. The unseen God alone was their Comforter, and this invests the scene of their suffering with supernatural majesty, and awes us when we think of them. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me” (Psalms 23:4). A martyrdom is a season of God’s especial power in the eye of faith, as great as if a miracle were visibly wrought. It is a fellowship of Christ’s sufferings, a commemoration of His death, a representation filling up in figure,” that which is behind of His afflictions, for His Body’s sake, which is the Church” (Colossians 1:24). And thus, being an august solemnity in itself, and a kind of sacrament, a baptism of blood, it worthily finishes that long searching trial which I have already described as being its usual forerunner in primitive times. To conclude. It is useful to reflect on subjects such as that I have now laid before you, in order to humble ourselves. What are our petty sufferings, which we make so much of, to their pains and sorrows, who lost their friends, and then their own lives for Christ’s sake; who were assaulted by all kinds of temptations, the sophistry of Antichrist, the blandishments of the world, the terrors of the sword, the weariness of suspense, and yet fainted not? How far above ours are both their afflictions, and their consolations under them! (J. H. Newman, D. D.)
God’s martyrs
I. SEVERAL WAYS THEY WERE PUT TO DEATH.
1. Some were stoned. This was a punishment determined by God in the Judicial Laws of Moses, to be executed upon several transgressors. Yet no judge had warrant from God to condemn any innocent person to this kind of death; yet Zacharias, for charging the Jews with their sins, and denouncing God’s judgments against them, was stoned to death.
2. Some were sawn asunder: thus some say Isaiah was slain by Manasses. This was a cruel kind of execution.
3. Some were tempted by some cruel kind of death to forsake their God, yet they did net.
4. Some were slain by the sword, which is used as well by the magistrate against offending subjects as by the soldier against enemies. Martyrs might be thus slain, either judicially or extrajudicially, without any formal process of judgment; for many times they laid heinous crimes to their charge. Sometimes they made justice injustice, obedience to God disobedience to man, and virtuous acts heinous crimes; and so-called good, evil; and light, darkness. The whole signifies that the lives of the saints and prophets were taken away cruelly and most unjustly by several kinds of tormenting deaths.
II. Some were not slain, BUT LIVED A MISERABLE LIFE. For
1. They wandered. They might be wanderers, either by constraint or voluntarily: by constraint, as when they were banished, or forcibly dispossessed of their houses; voluntarily, as when for fear of death, or to enjoy the quiet of conscience, they fled out of their country, or from the places of their habitation, so that they have no certain safe place of rest--they were continually flitting and removing, as not having where to lay their heads.
2. In this wandering condition they were destitute of raiment and clothes, whereby they might cover their shame, and defend their bodies from the injuries of heaven. They wanted stuff, or, if they had stuff, they could not have made them; and in this case they used sheep-skins and goat-skins. Which expression implies that their clothing was very mean and coarse; yea, not so much as shapen, sewed up, and fitted for their bodies, but only wrapped about some principal parts, leaving others naked. These did not deserve the name of garments, but were nothing else but skin upon skin, the skin of beasts upon the skin of man.
3. They were destitute, that is, in great want of other necessaries, and, as the word doth signify, very poor and indigent; for they had left all their substance, or it was taken from them, or they could have no use of it in their necessity. And if they wandered amongst strangers, little was to be expected from them; for strangers are many times used strangely, and few are sensible of their miseries. Some think the word may be turned (descerti)--deserted and forsaken; for in such a case few dare own their own flesh and blood and nearest relations. Yet the former sense seems to be more genuine, for their very habit did signify that their penury was very great.
4. They were afflicted; for in such a case their straits must be many, and the pressures and perplexities of body and mind very great, and such as none, but some who have been in their case, can truly apprehend.
5. They were tormented. The word may signify they were ill-handeled, sorely vexed, oppressed, and brought very low. (G. Lawson.)
Sawn asunder
Of sawing professors asunder:
We do not read in sacred Scriptures of any that were sawn asunder. But the Jews, among their other traditions, have this, that the Prophet Isaiah was sawn asunder with a wooden saw, in the time of King Manasses. Epiphanius, in setting out Isaiah’s life, noteth as much, so doth Hierom in the last close of the fifteenth book of his “ Comment on Isaiah,” p. 57. Whether that be true of Isaiah or not, most sure it is that some have after such a manner been martyred, either by sawing them asunder, or by pulling the members of their body asunder. This testimony of the apostle is sufficient to assure us of the truth thereof, and it giveth an instance of the cruelty of persecutors which showeth itself even in the death of martyrs. The ground of all was their extreme hatred of truth, and malice against maintainers thereof, which made them cast out all bowels of pity; yea, it made them take a devilish delight in cruelty. Herein lieth a difference betwixt cruelty that tends to death and that which is in death. The former may be to make men yield, but this is on malice and a mere devilish disposition.
1. This giveth instance of the depth of man’s corruption, which makes him as a devil incarnate, worse than the most savage beasts. Some tyrants have so far exceeded in cruelty as they have hired men to invent instruments for cruel kinds of death. Phalaris among the heathen is famous, or rather infamous, for this. Perillus, at his motion, made a bull of brass, hollow within, which with fire might be heated red hot, and men put thereinto, their crying out for that torture seemed to be as the lowing of a bull, and thereupon no pity taken of them. Other like things are noted of Dionysius, Rouseris, and other tyrants.
2. These tortures do give demonstration of the inconceivable supportance and comfort of the Divine Spirit, whereby martyrs have been enabled with patience to endure what cruelties could be inflicted on them, and in the midst of torments meekly and sweetly to commend their spirits into God’s hands, to the world’s astonishment.
3. How should this stir us up patiently to bear smaller trials? Yea, not to be afrighted or discouraged with anything that man can do, but to rest upon this, that that God who hath enabled His servants in former times to endure such exquisite tortures unto death, will enable us to endure what He shall bring us unto. Pertinent to this purpose is the advice of Christ (Luke 14:4-5). (W. Gouge.)
Tempted
“They were tempted”
I. THE UNIVERSAL TRUTH OF THE STATEMENT. It is not true that all the saints were scourged, nor all imprisoned, neither were all stoned, nor all slain with the sword, but it is true that they were all tempted. The word “tempted” bears two meanings; first of all, that of being tried or afflicted; and secondly, that of being enticed to sin. In the first aspect of it God did tempt Abraham, that is, He tried him; and this He does with all His people. God had one Son without sin, but He never had a son without trial. Count it not therefore a strange thing that you should have a cross to carry. As for the other sense of the word “tempt,” the bad and hard one, in that sense also the statement is universally true. All the people of God have been tempted to sin. Satan no sooner perceives a child of God renewed in heart than he endeavours to mar the work of the Holy Spirit, to ruin the happiness of the believer, and to weaken his usefulness by leading him into sin. The world is always tempting God’s people, and there is no position in life which is free from peril. Whether our path be rough or smooth we are liable to be tripped up unless a hand unseen shall hold us up. This is true of all who have gone before us … they were tempted.” At times Providence permits those who are in authority to exercise great power of temptation.
So it was with the saints of old: those who were in power accounted them as sheep for the slaughter. But if there were no devil and no wicked world it would still be true that the saints were tempted, for every man is tempted when he is “drawn away of his own lust, and enticed”; and there is that within the best of men which might make them into the worst of men if the grace of God did not prevent. This fact that all the saints have been tempted should put an end to all murmuring upon that score. Somebody says, “Mine is a hard lot; I have to follow Christ under great disadvantages. My foes are those of my own household.” Yes, your lot may be hard, but if you could just peep within the pearly gates and see that brilliant company, who are the peers of the realm of heaven, you would see none but those who once were tempted. Dare you demand a better lot than theirs?
II. THE UNLIMITED BREADTH OF THE STATEMENT. “They were tempted”: it does not say how. If one form of temptation had been mentioned, we should have surmised that they did not suffer in other ways, but when the statement is, “they were tempted,” we shall not be wrong in concluding that they were tried in any and every form. Whatever form temptation may take, in some or in all the saints, that temptation has been endured. We may say of Christ’s mystical body as we may say of Christ’s self--“tempted in all points like as we are.” The saints who are in heaven were tempted in all ways. They were tempted by threats, but they were equally tempted by promises. They were equally deaf to either form of solicitation: they could not be driven, and they could not be drawn; however the net might be spread they could not be taken in it. They have been tempted in subtlest fashion: reason and rhetoric, threat and scorn, bribe and blandishment, have all been used, and used in vain. They were tempted both with trials peculiar to themselves, and with trials common to us all.
III. THE SPECIAL POINT OF THE TRIAL. All these temptations, according to the connection of our text, were aimed at the faith of these holy men. Let us see to it that we become strong in faith, for that is true strength. Feed your faith well. Know the truth, and know it thoroughly. Read the Scriptures, and understand them. Make sure of the eternal verities. Live much upon the promises of future bliss. The sorrows of the way will grow light as the eternal weight of glory is revealed.
IV. THE INTENSITY OF THIS TRIAL. That I gather from the position of our text, which is very strange. The more we think of it the more we shall see that being tempted is worthy to be put side by side with being sawn asunder, and being slain with the sword; for many of those who are daily tormented with temptations will tell you that it is as painful to bear as any form of death. I want to answer the question which naturally arises--Why then does God permit His people to encounter so much temptation? Why is the road to heaven so beset with foes? The Lord answers many designs at one and the same time.
1. Persecution and temptation are a sort of sieve, to sift the Church of God. There must be these fiery persecutions, that the drossy hypocrites may be purged out.
2. Trial and temptation also discover the reality of conversion. Now the fact that he can stand against temptation is one of the very best evidences that he is born again and made a new creature in Christ Jesus; and those who see such a change confess that this is the finger of God.
3. Again, it is by this that men are left without excuse, inasmuch as they refuse the light. I sometimes wonder why ungodly men cannot let Christian people alone. But no; the moment a Christian appears among working men they are all upon him as though they were so many dogs worrying a hare. What does this show but that they know the truth and hate it? They know the light, but would fain quench it, and therefore they put from them the candle which God sends to them. This leaves the ungodly altogether without excuse; it is God’s purpose that it should do so. Meanwhile it does saints good; for painful as it is to them, it drives them to prayer. Many a man lives near to God in prayer who would not have done so if he had enjoyed an easier position. His prayerfulness strengthens him; trial makes him grow in faith and in every grace, and he becomes a better Christian. I believe that persecution is overruled by God for displaying the work of the Divine Spirit. Men see in Christian patience, in Christian courage, and in Christian zeal what the Holy Ghost can work even in such poor raw material as our human nature is. God is magnified by the successful struggling of His people out of love to His name. Moreover the life of the Church is the life of Christ extended and drawn out in His people. It seems to me the trials and the temptations of this life are all making us fit for the life to come--building up a character for eternity. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Wandered about
Believers may be wanderers
The grounds hereof are these
1. The envy and hatred of the world against them, which will not suffer them to sit safely and securely on their own nests. The men of this world are to believers as fowlers to fowls, and hunters to beasts. So was Saul to 1 Samuel 24:11; 1 Samuel 24:14; 1 Samuel 26:20). Hereunto does the prophet allude (Jeremiah 16:16; Micah 7:2; Lamentations 4:18).
2. Saints’ high esteem of the truth of God, and of the peace and quiet of their own conscience, which they prefer before house and home, kindred and country. They had rather wander with a quiet conscience, holding the truth, than sit at ease in their own house under their own vines and fig-trees with a torturing conscience upon denying the truth.
3. God’s wise providence, who opens a way for them to escape death; yet so as their faith is proved to be sound by this kind of trial, which is a great one, and in the consequence thereof may prove worse than a present death. Yea, further, God hereby keepeth the light of His truth from being put out, and causeth it to shine up and down in more places (Acts 8:1; Acts 8:5). This being the condition whereunto believers may be brought, they who have settled places of abode ought to succour such wanderers (Hebrews 13:2). This, then, must needs be a strong motive to endure this trial, because it is no other than what is common to all saints.
That we may the better observe this take notice of these rules
1. Be well instructed in the nature of this world and vanity of all things under heaven; how nothing is certain and sure. Why, then, should men seek a certain abiding in so uncertain a place?
2. Get assurance of that house, city, and country which is to come. Assurance thereof will make us more content to be without house, city, and country here in this world.
3. In thy best security and most settled estate be a pilgrim in thy mind and disposition, as Abraham and other patriarchs were (verse 13). Herewith the apostle supports Christians (1 Corinthians 10:13). (W. Gouge.)
Of the extreme want whereunto confessors may be brought:
Saints may be brought to extreme exigencies. So was David (1 Samuel 21:3); and Elijah (1 Kings 17:6), had not a raven brought him provision, he might have starved; and so again, had not an angel provided for him (1 Kings 19:7-8). So Lazarus (Luke 16:21), and many others in all ages.
1. God suffers this that His children might be the rather moved to look up unto Him, and wholly and only to depend upon Him. External means are many times an occasion of drawing the hearts even of saints from God Psalms 30:6). The wise man saith, that “the rich man’s wealth is his strong city” (Proverbs 10:15).
2. God suffers this that His succouring of them might be the more manifested and magnified. (W. Gouge. )
Of whom the world was not worthy
An epic of failure:
This chapter is the most audacious of all poems--it is the epic of failure. Other poets have recited the conquests of their legendary heroes; it was reserved for the poet of faith to recite an ode not less magnificent in honour of heroes all foiled and fallen. That is the way of the Bible. That is why the Bible is the comforter of the weary, the inspiration of all hope-blasted and heart-broken victims of life’s illusions. No good man has wholly prospered in his aims; the best men mourn the failure of all that they best conceived. No true heart in this house of God is satisfied with itself. In proportion to its truth and nobleness it mourns the failure of its highest aims. All this, at least--in part. Enough to inspire thoughts of sadness. Let us listen to this voice which comes to us across the rolling waves of all the centuries, chanting the higher victories and the diviner gains of the heroes of faith. So shall we be comforted under every failure and re-inspired after every defeat. All these died in faith, not having received the promises--disappointed, cheated of the lower, the temporal, the material, yet receiving a spiritual, a higher and eternal fulfilment. An epic of failure! We have learned that the throne of highest glory is the cross of the world’s rejection. At the feet of that colossal Failure who was gibbeted on Calvary we lose our carnal ideals and learn to read the divinest and most lasting triumphs in the defeats which seemed most shameful. Need I waste any word in explanation? The Failure I join with the poet of faith to celebrate is not that which springs from cowardice, from sloth, or from incapacity. Surely not! There are men who fail for no other reason than thai they are invertebrate sluggards, or waste their energies on aims that are unworthy and perishable. These I sing not; they are better forgotten. The charity of God has ordained that they pass quickly out of human memory. Before you sneer at any man as a “failure” be sure you inquire whether the conditions of success were not then absent, or worse, whether the world, snarling at all noble enterprise, was not too strong for him. Fools sneer when wise men err! Before you scornfully label any man “failure,” call to mind some of history’s divinest defeats--Socrates, hemlock-cup in hand; Paul of Tarsus in Nero’s dungeon; Jesus Christ on the Cross! Nothing is more tragic than the way society sometimes arrays its forces against daring and aspiring youth. It is an envious world. And not unseldom death overtakes a brave young soul before he has fought his way to victory. So it was with that Italian painter who, reduced to painting shop-signs for a livelihood, died by the roadside of starvation and a broken heart. After his death men woke up to find that an artist had been amongst them. That his soul was great can save no hero of faith from neglect and oblivion, if he have not built some brazen monument solid on the brute earth. That he left his generation richer in faith, in hope, in aspiration, is nothing. That he preserved it from brutishness, from moral stagnation, is nothing. How can these trifling divinities atone for his failure to run a successful church, or make a pile, or initiate a spirited foreign policy? These be thy gods, O Israel! But, Vivas to those noble failures I we exclaim. Vivas to the young men and maidens, over whose unfulfilled plans an early grave closed! Vivas to all thinkers who died with their theories un-demonstrated! Vivas to all statesmen hustled from power by a recreant and godless people, to die amid the shattered fragments of a just and righteous policy! Vivas to the merchant who, rather than riot in plundered thousands, died an honest bankrupt! Vivas to the incorruptible pauper, who might have exchanged the poorhouse for a palace, could he but have smiled and been a villain! Virus to the shackled and branded criminal, doomed to perpetual prison and disgrace by the lie of perjured witnesses! Vivas to all true souls who have perished in just causes amid rabble execrations! Vivas to all who have attempted great things for humanity and God, and--failed! Spanning my native Tay, a strong and stately viaduct successfally defies all pressure of wind and wave, bearing mighty engines with living freights from shore to shore in all weathers. Yet it is built upon a past failure! a few years ago another structure stood in its place, it was at once a thing of beauty to the eye and of profit to the shareholder. The engineer was honest and capable, and was knighted for his pains. But it fell before the strong winds of a night, and with it fell, not only four-score human beings, but the reputation, and, alas! the reason, of its constructor. Shall we upbraid him? Say, rather, shall we not praise him who, first of the whole race of men, attempted a design so vast, and built the longest bridge in the world! Other engineers came after him. They improved upon his ideas. They learned from his mistakes. The result is a bridge which seems good for the service of many generations. Vivas to those who have failed I I say that the Tay Bridge was built not alone by the successful men who reaped the subsequent rewards, it is built also upon the souls of the nameless workmen who perished in its construction, and upon the soul and mind of poor, demented Sir Thomas Bouch. No need to pile up illustrations. It is plain that humanity might have prospered fairly well without its successes, but could have progressed no jot or tittle without its defeats. Having regard to the conditions of human life, it is plain that defeat is not less essential than victory; misdirection and error prepare the way for solid and enduring good. If I may choose, I will have for my portion the failures of mankind; he may have the successes who will. Vivas to those who have failed! Of whom the Mammon-worshipping world was not worthy. Failure? Let us not breathe the word in connection with any honest effort. Let us not so insult the memory of the baffled brave. No true ideal is finally dishonoured; no true effort is wasted; no true worker wholly perishes. From his loss humanity achieves a greater gain. Our future is built upon his past. He himself may perish, Moses-like, upon some lonely Nebo, but we pass over into the promised land! (W. Walsh.)
God’s esteem of His people
I. LET THE WORLD THINK AS WELL, AS HIGHLY, AS PROUDLY OF ITSELF AS IT PLEASETH, WHEN IT PERSECUTES IT IS BASE AND UNWORTHY OF THE SOCIETY OF TRUE BELIEVERS, AND OF THE MERCIES WHEREWITH IT IS ACCOMPANIED.
II. GOD’S ESTEEM OF HIS PEOPLE IS NEVER THE LESS FOR THEIR OUTWARD SUFFERINGS AND CALAMITIES, WHATEVER THE WORLD JUDGETH OF THEM. They cannot think otherwise of them in their sufferings, than they thought of Christ in His. They did “esteem Him stricken, smitten of God and afflicted” (Isaiah 53:4); as one rejected of God and man. Such is their judgment of all His suffering followers; nor will they entertain any other thought of them. But God is of another mind.
III. OFTTIMES IT IS BETTER, AND MORE SAFE, FOR THE SAINTS OF GOD TO BE IN THE WILDERNESS AMONG THE BEASTS OF THE FIELD, THAN IN A SAVAGE WORLD, INFLAMED BY THE DEVIL INTO RAGE AND PERSECUTION.
IV. Though the world may prevail to drive the Church into the wilderness, to the ruin of all public profession in their own apprehension, YET IT SHALL BE THERE PRESERVED UNTO THE APPOINTED SEASON OF ITS DELIVERANCE--the world shall never have the victory over it.
V. IT BECOMES US TO BE FILLED WITH THOUGHTS OF, AND AFFECTIONS UNTO, SPIRITUAL THINGS, TO LABOUR FOR AN ANTICIPATION OF GLORY, THAT WE FAINT NOT IN THE CONSIDERATION OF THE EVILS THAT MAY BEFAL US ON THE ACCOUNT OF THE GOSPEL. (John Owen, D. D.)
The world’s unworthiness a cause of saints wandering:
The first thing expressed in this reason of confessors wandering is, the world’s vileness. The world is not worthy of them. This consequence is confirmed by this direction which Christ giveth to His disciples (Matthew 10:11; Matthew 10:13). They who preferred the things of this world before communion with the great King were counted not worthy of that favour to sit at His table Matthew 22:4-5). This should dissuade confessors of the truth to take heed of complying too much with the men of this world. This had almost cost Jehosaphat his life (2 Chronicles 18:31). He was sharply reproved for it by a prophet (2 Chronicles 19:2). Saints do herein undervalue themselves, and give occasion to be trampled under foot, yea, and torn to pieces. The world may take great advantage hereby, but saints may be sure to get no good. Should saints comply with them whom God thinks to be unworthy of them? This is the second thing expressed; for this phrase,” was not worthy,” is here set down as a judgment, which followed upon saints wandering from them. So as the world’s unworthiness deprived them of the society of saints, and might be very beneficial unto them. On this ground Christ saith to the Jews, “The kingdom of God shall be taken from Matthew 21:43). And it is expressly noted that Christ returned back again from the unworthy Gadarenes, where they besought Him to depart from them (Luke 8:37). This departing from the men of the world is sometimes done by the world’s forcing them (Acts 8:1; Matthew 10:23). Thus God in His wise providence maketh persecutors spoilers of themselves. Potiphar spoiled himself of a very faithful and profitable servant by casting Joseph into prison (Genesis 39:20), so the Jews spoiled themselves of Christ (John 7:33-34). And of the apostles, who carried the light of the gospel from the Jews to the Gentiles (Acts 13:46-47).
1. Here we have one special reason of saints suffering what they do by the world. It is not God’s displeasure against them; for in love to them, and for their present and future glory are they here persecuted. It is for the punishment of the world to deprive it of those that would be their greatest honour, comfort, and profit, if they were well entertained among them.
2. Herein appeareth the world’s sottishness in punishing themselves by their attempts to punish saints. They may spoil saints of earthly habitations and revenues, they may put them to bodily pains and deprive them of life, but they spoil themselves of the means of spiritual grace, of peace of conscience, and comfort of soul. Yea, and of eternal life, and implunge themselves into easeless torments.
3. This showeth whose case is the worst, whether their’s that are persecuted, or their’s who do persecute. Surely if all things be duly weighed, we shall easily discern that the persecutor’s case is the worst. The persecuted therefore may say,” Weep not for us, but weep for yourselves” Luke 23:28).
4. This giveth occasion to such as are deprived of faithful ministers and godly neighbours to examine themselves, and consider whether their unworthiness hath not been the cause thereof.
5. This exhorteth us to esteem ministers, saints, Divine ordinances, and other holy things appertaining to the kingdom of God, so as God may account us worthy to enjoy them; and not take them away by reason of our unworthiness. (W. Gouge.)
The world’s treatment of great men:
The words occur parenthetically. Sufferings precede, and sufferings follow. It seems as if the writer, glowing with devout thankfulness over the worthy deeds of these martyrs of faith, was struck suddenly with scornful indignation at the thought that all their sufferings were inflicted upon them by a world that was all unworthy of them, a world for which they were far too good, a world which affected to despise and presumed to torture them, while in reality it was in comparison with this pure gold of humanity, thus tried in the furnace of persecution, mere contemptible dross. These heroes of all time, these the salt of the world, who saved it from utter corruption, and by the very blood which their persecutors poured out sowed the seed which was to renew the face of the earth; these representatives of what man can be when he allows God to work in him mightily, were men who in their lifetime were despised as unworthy of the world, and who loved the world which was indeed unworthy of them. There is something very awful, something which brings the blush of shame and indignation to our cheeks, in the thought that the world thus spills the blood, and tries to stifle the enthusiasm, of its best and noblest children; that their best acts are often misconstrued; that the finest and purest elements in their characters are often just those which during their lives are least appreciated. There seems to be an enormous waste of human goodness, while we have at the same time so little of it that we cannot afford, if we only knew our true interests, to lose a single lifeful. But the important point for each of us to consider, is to which of the two classes he himself practically belongs; whether in the sight of God, from whom no secrets are hid, he is one of those whom God calls “the world,” or one of those of whom the world is “not worthy.” I know no more simple or practical way of setting this question before ourselves, than by asking what is our own estimate of those whom we believe to be trying to serve God. When you see anything, any person, superior to yourselves, does the sight give you pleasure? Do you feel proud of him? Do you try to aid him? If you ever hear of some daring act being done, do you feel disposed to give it its right name; or do you prefer to single out any ludicrous incidents in it, to extract from it and deliberately disparage all its nobleness, and make it as unlikely as you can that there should be any repetition of such a manifestation of enthusiasm. So far as you can judge, does your personal influence tend to increase or to diminish the chance of any marked display of goodness or courage being exhibited in your own society? It was said of a great English statesman--the Earl of Chatham--that no man ever left his cabinet without feeling himself a braver man than he was when he entered … To know how to do justice to all persons; to admire what really deserves admiration in the characters of those with whom we have to do; to detect through the coverings of awkwardness, or shyness, or reserve, or even much more serious defects, the true solid metal which lies beneath--is a duty which is not learned in a day. But we have advanced far in the right direction when we have satisfied ourselves that it is a duty to do this; that we have no right to be blind to latent good in others; that God wishes us to find it out, and then to pay honour to it for His sake; and that for all hasty judgments, and for all blind judgments, and for all uncharitable judgments, and above all for all judgments which wish to find evil rather than to find good, we shall most certainly have to give account … It would be well if you could commence life with an instinctive hatred of all persecution, and especially of all religious persecution. There always is and always will be a “world”--it may be a literary world, or a fashionable world, or a religious world--but there always will be some dominant body in every society which passes judgment without having the earnestness to care to know the merits of the case on which judgment is to be passed. This world always dislikes and is suspicious of everything new, everything which calls upon it to reconsider its principles, and, in short, to “examine itself whether it be in the faith”; whether its customs also, as well as its opinions, will bear testing. And the world finds means for making its dislike and suspicion felt, and it taxes to the uttermost the patience and courage of those who by honest and painful, if often misguided, efforts are striving to serve it. Among the chief benefactors, not of England only, but of the human race, stands William Tyndal, the man who almost alone gave us the substance of our wonderful translation of the Bible. He was a thorough student, not, so far as we know, a man of vehement action, like Luther. But he admired Luther, when to do so was dangerous. He expressed his opinion openly, and he fell into disgrace. He escaped into a foreign country. He translated part of the Bible. It was seized and destroyed by an English bishop. He continued his work. He was constantly under the shadow of martyrdom. But the student worked on; and his work was done. The Bible was given as a heritage to Englishmen; but scarcely was the long toil of life complected, when the workman was called into a higher Presence. By the treachery of an English spy he was placed in the hands of the English authorities, and as has been said, “passed away in smoke and flame to his rest.” (H. M. Butler, D. D.)
The world’s estimates
How different are the estimates of earth and heaven! How different is man’s standard of judgment from that which Scripture calls “the shekel of the sanctuary”! The world drives its saints into deserts and caves of the earth. The world says of each, what it once said of one, “Away with such a fellow from the earth--it is not fit that he should live.” God looks down from heaven upon the children of men, sees their rash judgments, hears their hard sentences, one upon another, and says, just of those whom the world counts wanting in every attribute of sociability and citizenship--“of whom, on the contrary, the world was not worthy.” Let us try to estimate aright this parenthetical comment. “The world.” This cosmos of sense and matter, with its pleasures and its ambitions, its lustings and strivings and warrings, its vanities, its falsehoods, and--its children. Yes, there are those who live for it and for it only, and who count any other life an enthusiasm, a fanaticism, or a hypocrisy. And the world is very real--who shall speak to the contrary? Very substantial, very powerful in its edicts, its threatenings, and its punishments. This is its day, and it makes the most of it. The world “knows that it has but a short time”--and there is a misgiving, too, under its vauntings, which make them more arrogant and imperious. Such reflections are necessary to the understanding of the text. And they enable us to go forward, and show why men of faith are so repulsive to the world; why, in days of violence, they are persecuted; why, in days of tranquillity, they are courteously, but effectually, ostracised. There is a natural hostility between faith and the world. The one lives for the future: the other lives for the present. The one sees the Invisible: the other places Him at an immeasurable distance. Nowhere is the world really stronger than in Christendom. To profess faith--to fight for the faith--is the world’s masterpiece of self-tranquillising. Are we not all of one speech? Why be more scrupulous, more sensitive, more religious, than your neighbour? The world worshipping is twice the world. It has made its covenant with death--with hell it is at agreement. And that which might seem to be faith’sremedy is forbidden her. “Wilt Thou that we go and gather them up?” Wilt Thou that we discern for ourselves between the false and the true, between the nominal believer and the real believer, within the professing Church, and within the visible communion? Not so. “Lest, while ye gather up the tares, ye root up also the wheat with them.” At all risks, the world and the Church must be mingled together in the present; if so be the influences of grace may yet touch the worldly, and bring them into the fold of the real and of the true. Thus we are taught to look more at principles than at persons. We must not, we cannot, go apart by ourselves, and leave the Church-world to its own ways and its own devices. If it excommunicates, if it drives into the desert, it must have its way: and it will set its mark, if not publicly yet in secret, upon all who refuse to speak its thought and to do its bidding. The man of faith, the consistent Christian, may be in the world, of it he cannot be--and the world knows it. The world of the home, the world of the school, the world of the shop and the counting-house, the world of fashion and of society, feels and resents the reproving speech, and yet more the reproving silence, of the man who quietly and consistently lives for the unseen, and turns all his thoughts and actions that way. And this is the closing lesson of the chapter of faith. We are reminded that there is a “world “ present and active in the heart of Christian England, and that there is also, side by side with it, not only a visible professing community, which, for us, is almost coextensive with it, but also a secret society, knit together in a bond of spiritual sympathy, not only by the possession of common ordinances of worship and rules of living, but by the actual presence, within each member, of the Holy Spirit of God quickening, guiding, enabling, sanctifying--drawing their desires heavenward, and making” that world,” the world of heaven and of God, more real and more present and more persuasive to them than all the pleasures and all the interests of things seen and temporal. We are reminded also that in this realisation of the invisible God lies a power, and a dignity, and a patent of nobility, altogether different, in kind as well as in degree, from all the greatness and all the honour which can be conferred by rank or wealth, by genius or intellect, by the admiration of senates or the favour of kings. “Of whom the world was not worthy” is God’s description of the very men whom the world casts out as fools or madmen. Live now, at all costs, for “that world,” whether “this world” shall curse or bless. In pureness, in meekness, in diligence, in love unfeigned--with the Holy Spirit within you--so pass the time of your sojourning, and look for your rest and your home in the one “city which hath the foundations,” the city of the everlasting glory, whose light is the crucified and risen One, whose Architect and Artificer is God. (Dean Vaughan.)
Great men
I. THE WORLD AND THE CHURCH FORM A VERY DIFFERENT ESTIMATE OF GREATNESS. Look at history. What names are those that fill its pages? Kings, counsellors, and chieftains--men who have lived only to subdue and govern their fellow-men. History is so occupied with their deeds, that it finds no place to record manifestations of moral principle, and works of true greatness. There is no record in it of those men, who through a strength and purity of soul obtained a sway over the minds of their fellow-men; who, rising above their times, assailed all forms of error, rescued great truths from the corruption of ages, and by their characters, deeds, sufferings, and writings, proved themselves the benefactors of their race. The world does not know them; but their names are repeated with veneration by thousands. These are our great men; and the day is coming when their greatness shall be acknowledged. The Church esteems moral greatness as the highest kind of greatness; and whatever qualities a man may have apart from this, she refuses to admit his pretensions, and casts out his name. There is too much of lowliness and simplicity in true moral greatness to charm and attract the world. Intellectual greatness is far inferior to moral greatness. A man may be intellectually great, and yet morally mean. He may be like Bacon, the greatest and the meanest of men. The philosopher and the poet are inferior to the Christian. The Church knows nothing of the greatness of men as kings, as warriors, or as statesmen. In her estimation “the Christian is the highest style of man.” It is necessary to moral greatness, that there should be an acquaintance with the truth--with God’s truth; that truth which illuminates and saves the soul; that truth which sustains a man amidst the scoffings and revilings of an age; that truth which teaches a man how to live and how to die. To be a great man, therefore, a man must recognise the superiority of his nature. He must act as a man, knowing and feeling that he has a soul. He must not be imposed upon by the pageants of the world; he must not be allured by the charms of the things that are passing away; he must confess himself to be a stranger and a sojourner here, as all his fathers were. A great man must be a bold man--one who will act out his convictions, defying all peril, and hearing in his own conscience a voice louder than the threatenings of the world. He must be a man who will dare to be singular; who will hew out his own pathway; who will even look death in the face rather than give up his principles, and leave guilt upon his conscience. He must be an active man--a man making his existence necessary to the world, and who will not let the world do without him; yea, the world cannot, the world shall not do without him. It retains the impression of his deeds. His influence shall outlive himself, and shall never die.
II. THERE HAVE BEEN GREAT MEN IN THIS WORLD OF OURS--men “of whom the world was not worthy.” There have been some who were men above their age--men standing out from their fellows, men who have lived alone in their generation, and have been like stars in the expanse of heaven. Among the great men who have lived since the days of the apostles I may single out the monk of Germany. Among the most memorable scenes that have occurred in European history is, undoubtedly, that scene in which that great man stood before the world’s authorities friendless and alone and when the question was proposed to him--“Will you recant?” he answered “By God’s grace, never.” By that one act and deed of his he deserves to be enrolled among the list of those men “of whom the world was not worthy.”
III. GREAT MEN ARE MADE SO BY THE GRACE OF GOD. They were “born not of blood, nor of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.” Their lives were a copy of the holiness of truth, an illustration of the beauty of truth, and a manifestation of the power of truth.
IV. GREAT MEN HAVE, GENERALLY SPEAKING, GIVEN AN IMPULSE TO THE AGE IN WHICH THEY LIVED. It was impossible for them to think and speak and act in such a world as this, without producing undying impressions; it was impossible for them to suffer and to die, without leaving memorials of their names, their deeds, and their sufferings, in the sympathies and in the hearts of men. They laid the foundation of that vast structure of civil and religious liberty in which we meet and bow down and worship to-day.
V. THE WORLD HAS ALWAYS BEEN IGNORANT OF ITS GREAT MEN. There was One, of whom it becomes us to speak with the greatest reverence. He came into this world; and though He had made the world, yet it knew Him not, and cried out--“Away with Him! away with Him! crucify Him! crucify Him!” And if the world know not the Master, is it likely that it will recognise His disciples? The world has never known these great men. It has always treated them with contempt. They have been afflicted, forsaken, tormented; they have “wandered about in goatskins and in sheepskins”; and yet these very men have been among our true nobility and spiritual aristocracy; “ of whom the world was not worthy.” And yet, for them the world forged its fetters, opened the doors of its dungeons, and lit up its fires, that their spirits might ascend to liberty and to God.” (H. J. Bevis.)