On account of heavy domestic afflictions,
and the failure of my own health, I was induced, a
few years since, to visit the United States.
Full well I remember my feelings when returning to
my native land. I had been laboring among a heathen
people, and impressions by the eye are deep and affecting.
I had seen degradation and vileness, destitution and
woe. I had a vivid impression of the urgent claim
of the destitute and the dying; and I had formed some
conception of the greatness of the work, if we would
put forth the instrumentality needed to elevate and
save them. And during a long voyage, I had time,
not only to think of the Sandwich Islanders, but to
cast my thoughts abroad over the wide world.
The millions and hundreds of millions of our race often
came up fresh before me, sunk in untold vileness,
covered with abominations, and dropping one after
another, as fast as the beating of my pulse twenty
millions a year into the world of woe.
Painful as it was, I could not avoid the deep and
certain conviction, that such was their end.
Then I thought of the greatness of
the task, if we would be the means, under God, of
saving them from perdition: that we have idol
gods without number to destroy a veil of
superstition forty centuries thick to rend a
horrible darkness to dispel hearts of stone
to break a gulf of pollution to purify nations,
in God’s strength, to reform and regenerate.
With such thoughts the conviction forced itself upon
me, that the work could not be done without an immense
amount of means, and a host of laborers.
Think, then, how chilling and soul-sickening
the intelligence that met me as I landed on my native
shores, (in the spring of 1838,) that Christians were
disheartened by the pressure of the times, and were
receding from ground already taken: that the bread
of life must not issue from the press, though millions
were famishing for lack of it; that thirty heralds
of salvation then standing on our shores must not
embark, though the woes and agonies of dying souls
were coming peal after peal on every wave of the ocean;
that they must be turned aside from the perilous yet
fond enterprise to which the love of Christ had constrained
them, and that future applicants must be thereby discouraged that
missionaries abroad must be trammelled in their operations
for want of means; and that multitudes of children
and youth, the hope of the missions, gathered with
much care, and partially instructed and trained with
much expense of time, strength and money; the centre
of solicitude, love, and interest; the adopted sons
and daughters of the missionaries, must be sent back in
Ceylon three thousand in a day to wallow
again in pollution, bow down to gods of wood and stone,
and wander, stumble and fall on the dark mountains
of heathen superstition; a prey to the prowling monsters
that lie thick and ready to devour in all the territory
of Satan. Surely, thought I, (and had I not grounds
for the thought?) Christians in America must be destitute
of the common comforts of life: nothing but the
direst necessity can induce them thus to surrender
back to Satan the ground already taken and the trophies
already gathered, and to put far off the hope of the
latter day glory.
I looked abroad and made inquiries.
I found indeed a derangement of currency and a stagnation
of business. But did I find, think you, that
Christians were destitute of the ordinary comforts
of life? that they were in a distressing emergency
for food and clothing? that their retrenchments had
been made first in personal expenditures, and
last in efforts to save souls? Alas! it was evident
that the principal cause of the retraced movement
was not found in the reverse of the times. It
was found to lie deeper; and to consist in wrong views
and wrong practice on the great subject of Christian
stewardship. To this subject, then, my thoughts
for a time were much directed, and I tried to look
at it in view of a dying world, and a coming judgment.
The subject, I perceived, lay at the foundation of
all missionary effort; and my position and circumstances
were perhaps advantageous for contemplating it in
a just and proper light. Be entreated, therefore,
Christian reader, to look at the subject in the spirit
of candor and self-application.
A little heathen child was inquired
of by her teacher, if there was anything which she
could call her own. She hesitated a moment, and
looking up, very humbly replied, “I think there
is.” “What is it?” asked the
teacher. “I think,” said she, “that
my sins are my own.”
Yes, we may claim our sins they
are our own; but everything else belongs to God.
We are stewards; and a steward is one who is employed
to manage the concerns of another his household,
money or estate. We are God’s stewards.
God has intrusted to each one of us a charge of greater
or less importance. To some he has intrusted five
talents, to others two, and to others one. The
talents are physical strength, property, intellect,
learning, influence all the means in our
possession for doing good and glorifying God.
We can lay claim to nothing as strictly our own.
Even the angel Gabriel cannot claim the smallest particle
of dust as strictly his own. The rightful owner
of all things, great and small, is God.
To be faithful stewards, then, we
must fully occupy for God all the talents in
our possession. A surrender, however, of all to
God of time, strength, mind and property,
does not imply a neglect of our own real wants.
A proper care of ourselves and families enters into
God’s arrangement. This is not only allowed,
it is required of us; and if done properly and with
a right spirit, it is a service acceptable to God.
This is understood then, when we say, that all our
talents must be occupied for God. With this understanding,
there must be no reserve. Reserve is robbery.
No less than all the heart and all our powers can be
required of us no less can be required of
angels.
It is our reasonable service.
We require the same of the agents we employ.
Suppose a steward, agent or clerk, in the management
of your money, your estate or your goods, devotes
only a part to your benefit and uses the rest for
himself, how long would you retain him in your employment?
Let us beware, then, that we rob not God. Let
us be faithful in his business, and fully occupy
for him the talents intrusted to us. God has
an indisputable right to everything in our possession;
to all our strength, all our influence, every moment
of our time, and demands that everything be held loosely
by us, in perfect obedience to him. For us or
for angels to deny this right, would be downright rebellion.
For God to require anything less, would be admitting
a principle that would demolish his throne.
No less engagedness certainly can
be required of God’s stewards, than worldly
men exhibit in the pursuit of wealth and honor.
Let us, then, look at their conduct and learn a lesson.
They are intent upon their object. They rise
early and sit up late. Constant toil and vigorous
exertion fill up the day, and on their beds at night
they meditate plans for the morrow. Their hearts
are set on their object, and entirely engrossed in
it. They show a determination to attain it, if
it be within the compass of human means. Enter
a Merchants’ Exchange, and see with what fixed
application they study the best plans of conducting
their business. They keep their eyes and ears
open, and their thoughts active. Such, too, must
be the wakefulness of an agent, or they will not employ
him. Notice also the physician who aspires to
eminence. He tries the utmost of his skill.
Look in, too, upon the ambitious attorney. He
applies his mind closely to his cause that he may manage
it in the best possible way.
Now, I ask, shall not the same intense
and active state of mind be required of us, as God’s
agents or stewards? Can we be faithful stewards,
and not contrive, study, and devise the best ways of
using the talents that God has intrusted to us, so
that they may turn to the greatest account in his
service? Is not the glory of God and the eternal
salvation of our ruined race, an object worthy
of as much engagedness, as much engrossment of soul
and determination of purpose, as a little property
which must soon be wrapped in flames, or the flickering
breath of empty fame? Be assured, we cannot satisfy
our Maker by offering a sluggish service, or by putting
forth a little effort, and pretending that it is the
extent of our ability. We have shown what we are
capable of doing, by our engagedness in seeking wealth
and honor. God has seen, angels have seen, and
we ourselves know, that our ability is not small,
when brought fully into exercise. It is now too
late to indulge the thought of deceiving either our
Maker or our fellow men on this point. We can
lay claim to the character of faithful stewards, only
as we embark all our powers in serving God,
as worldly men do in seeking riches, or a name.
Then, too, to be faithful, we must
be as enterprising in the work that God has
given us to do, as worldly men are in their affairs.
By enterprising, I mean, bold, adventurous, resolute
to undertake. Worldly men exhibit enterprise
in their readiness to engage in large projects in
digging canals, in laying railroads, and in sending
their ships around the globe. No port seems too
distant, no depth too deep, no height too high, no
difficulty too great, and no obstacle too formidable.
They scarcely shrink from any business on account of
its magnitude, its arduousness, or its hazard.
A man is no longer famous for circumnavigating the
globe. To sail round the world is a common trading
voyage, and ships now visit almost every port of the
whole earth. A business is no longer called great,
where merely thousands of dollars are adventured;
but in great undertakings, money is counted by millions.
Such is the spirit of enterprise in worldly matters.
Now, I ask, are we not capable of
as much enterprise in using the means ordained by
Christ for rescuing souls from eternal burnings, and
raising them to a seat at his right hand? Had
the same enterprise been required of men in some former
century, they might have plead incapacity. But
it is too late now to plead incapacity. Unless
we choose to keep back from God a very important talent,
we must put forth this enterprise to its full extent
in the great work of the world’s conversion.
Such enterprise is needed. If
the latter day glory is to take place through human
instrumentality, can it be expected without some mighty
movement on the part of the church? Can a work
of such inconceivable magnitude be effected, till
every redeemed sinner shall lay himself out in the
enterprise, as worldly men do in their projects?
If the promises of God are to be fulfilled through
the efforts of men, what hope can there be of the
glorious day, till men are resolute to undertake great
things not for themselves merely, but for
God, their Maker and Redeemer.
Is it not a fact that will strike
us dumb in the judgment, that it is the love of money,
and not zeal for God, that digs canals, lays railroads,
runs steamboats and packets, and, in short, is the
main spring of every great undertaking? The love
of money has explored the land and the seas, traced
rivers in all their windings, found an entrance to
almost every port, Christian or heathen, studied the
character of almost every people, ascertained the products
of every clime and the treasures of the deep, stationed
agents in all the principal places, and in not a few
ports, a hemisphere distant, erected shops, factories,
and even sumptuous palaces.
Men exhibit no such enterprise in
serving God. How many ships sail the ocean to
carry the Gospel of Christ? And in ports where
one magnificent Exchange after another is reared,
stretching out its capacious arms, and towering towards
heaven, how difficult it is to sustain a few humble
boarding-houses for wandering seamen. Worldly
enterprise is bold and active, and presses onward
with railroad speed. Shall, then, Christian enterprise
be dull and sluggish, deal in cents and mills, and
move along at a very slow pace? The thought is
too humiliating to be endured.
Suppose angels to be placed in our
stead, would they, think you, be outdone by the seekers
of wealth in deeds of enterprise? No: their
cars would be the first in motion, and their ships
the first on the wing. They would be the first
to announce new islands, and the first to project
improvements, and for what? that the Gospel
might have free course and be glorified. Enterprise
and action would then be exhibited, worthy of our
gaze and admiration. “O! if the ransom of
those who fell from heaven like stars to eternal night,
could only be paid, and the inquiry of the Lord were
heard among the unfallen, ’Whom shall we send,
and who will go for us?’ hold they back?
No: they fly like lightning to every province
of hell; the echo of salvation rolls in the outskirts
as in the centre; a light shines in the darkest dungeon;
the heaviest chains are knocked off, and they rest
not till all is done that angels can do, to restore
them to their former vacated seats in the realms of
the blest.”
But if angels would act thus, we too,
as the stewards of God, ought to be the first in enterprise.
God’s work is infinitely more important than
wealth or honor. And how shall we, in the judgment,
be found faithful, if the seekers of wealth or the
aspirants for renown are suffered to outstrip us on
every side.
It is not faithfulness for any one
to consume on himself or his children more
of God’s property than he really needs.
Suppose you hold in your hand an amount of property.
It is not yours you remember, for you are merely a
steward. God requires that it be used to produce
the greatest possible good. The greatest possible
good, is the promotion of holiness in yourself and
in others. Luxury, pride and vanity can lay no
claim. Speculative knowledge, taste, and refinement
must receive a due share of attention, but be kept
in their place. Our real wants, of course, must
be supplied. But what are our real wants our
wants, not our desires our
real wants, not those that are artificial and
imaginary?
We really need for ourselves and families
what is necessary to preserve life and health; we
need a mental cultivation answerable to our profession
or employment; need the means of maintaining a neat,
sober and just taste; and we need too, proper advantages
of spiritual improvement. Things of mere habit,
fashion, and fancy may be dispensed with. Luxuries
may be denied. Many things, which are called
conveniences, we do not really need. If provision
is to be made for all things that are convenient and
pleasant, what room will remain for self-denial?
Things deemed comfortable and convenient may be multiplied
without limit consume all of God’s
wealth, and leave the world in ruins. If the
world were not in ruins, then it might be proper
to seek not only the comforts, but even the elegancies
of life.
Take a simple illustration: In
the midst of the wide ocean I fall in with a crew
floating on the few shattered planks of a hopeless
wreck. I have a supply of water and a cask of
bread, but the poor wrecked mariners are entirely
destitute. Shall I keep my provisions for my own
comfort, and leave these sufferers to pine away with
hunger and thirst? But suppose I have not only
bread and water, but many luxuries, while the men
on the wreck are perishing for the want of a morsel
of bread and a drop of water? And then, suppose
I have casks of bread and other provisions to dispose
of, and intend with the proceeds to furnish myself
with certain of the conveniences and elegancies of
life; and my mind is so fixed upon obtaining them,
that I refuse to relieve the poor tenants of the wreck,
and leave them to the lingering death of hunger and
thirst. O, who of you would not shudder at the
hardness of my heart and the blackness of my crime!
But the world dead in sin is surely
a wreck. Millions upon millions are famishing
for the bread and water of life. Their cry their
dying cry has come to our ears. Shall we then
take that which might relieve them, and expend it
in procuring conveniences, elegancies, and luxuries
for ourselves? Can we do it, and be guiltless
of blood?
But, perhaps here, some one may have
the coolness to thrust in the common objection, that
a man’s style of living must correspond with
his station in society. It is wonderful to what
an extent this principle is applied. A man, it
is said, cannot be a governor of a state, a mayor of
a city, a member of Congress, or hold any high office,
unless his house, his equipage, his dress and his
table, exhibit some appearance of elegance and wealth;
and if a man live in a large and opulent city, he
must be somewhat expensive in his style of living,
that he may exert an influence in the higher walks
of society. Then, country towns, and small villages,
take pattern of the large cities, and the plea goes
down through every rank and every grade. Scarcely
a Christian can be found, who is not familiar with
the doctrine. It is a very convenient doctrine.
In a qualified sense it may be true, but in
its unlimited interpretation it may be made to justify
almost every article of luxury and extravagance.
It seems to be conformity to the world,
and the world has always been wrong. The
principles of the Gospel have always been at variance
with the maxims and customs of the world. Conformity
is always suspicious.
Again, the doctrine cannot be applied
to all places. Suppose a missionary conform to
the society around him. Instead of raising up
the heathen from their degradation, he would become
a heathen himself. The descent to heathenism
is easy. The influence of comparing ourselves
with ourselves, and measuring ourselves by ourselves,
is felt by those living among barbarians as well as
at home, though the insidious influence leads in another
direction. If there is a man on earth, who, more
than any other, needs to cultivate neatness, taste
and refinement, both in his mind and in his whole
style of living, it is the man who is surrounded by
a heathen population. Here, then, the rule contended
for fails. Travel round the world, and how often
will it fail?
Let us turn away, then, from this
fickle standard, and look to reason enlightened by
the Word of God. Shall we not then find, that
substantially the same style of living that is proper
in one latitude and longitude, is proper in another;
substantially the same, paying only so much
regard to the eyes of the world, as to avoid unnecessary
singularity and remark; and that this rule, founded
on the principles of the Gospel, makes a proper provision
for health, mental cultivation, and a neat, sober
and just taste? Are not these the real wants of
men allowed by the Gospel, whether they live in London
or in Ethiopia?
But the ground on which I choose to
rest this inquiry more than any other, is the perishing
condition of our dying race. Is fashion, splendor
and parade, appropriate in a grave-yard, or in the
chamber of the dead and dying? But the whole
world is a grave-yard. Countless millions lie
beneath our feet. Most of our earth, too, is at
this moment a chamber of dying souls. Can we
have any relish for luxuries, folly and needless
expense, amidst the teeming millions commencing the
agonies of eternal death?
I erect a splendid mansion; extend
about it a beautiful enclosure; furnish it with every
elegance; make sumptuous entertainments, and live
in luxury and ease. In the midst of it, the woes
and miseries of my ruined race are brought vividly
before me their present wretchedness and
eternal agonies. And it is whispered in my ear,
that these woes might have been relieved by the expense
I have so profusely lavished. O! how like Belshazzar
must I feel, and almost imagine that the groans of
lost souls are echoed in every chamber of my mansion,
and their blood seen on every ornament!
Let us have the love of Christ in
our hearts, and then spread distinctly before us the
world as it is calculate the sum total
of its present wretchedness and eternal woes.
In such a world and as God’s stewards, who can
be at a loss in regard to the course of duty?
When twenty millions of men every year are entering
upon the untold horrors of the second death, and we
are stewards to employ all means in our power for
their salvation, O, away with that coldness that can
suggest the necessity of conforming to the
expensive customs of the world. May we, in heaven,
find one of these souls saved through our instrumentality,
and we can afford to forego all we shall lose by a
want of conformity. There is a nobleness in taking
an independent stand on the side of economy, and saving
something to benefit dying souls. There is a
heavenly dignity in such a course, infinitely superior
to the slavish conformity so much contended for.
It is an independence induced by the sublimest motives;
a stand which even the world must respect, and which
God will not fail to honor.
But how shall those possessing large
capitals best employ them as stewards of God?
I speak not of the hoarding of the miser; that would
be a waste of breath. I speak not of property
invested in stock that habitually violates the Sabbath.
No remark is necessary in so plain a case. But
I speak of large capitals, professedly kept to bring
in an income for the service of the Redeemer.
The subject is involved in many practical difficulties;
and they who are business men have some advantages
of judging in the case which I have not. I will
therefore merely make one or two inquiries.
Is not the practice in many cases
an unwise investment of God’s funds?
Is there not a reasonable prospect that one dollar
used now, in doing good, will turn to more account
than twenty dollars ten years hence? A Bible
given now may be the means of a soul’s conversion;
and this convert may be instrumental in converting
other souls, and may consecrate all his powers and
property to God; so that when years shall have passed
away, the one dollar given to buy the Bible may have
become hundreds of dollars, and, with God’s
blessing, saved many precious souls. One pious
young man trained for the ministry now, may
be instrumental, before ten years shall expire, in
bringing into the Lord’s kingdom many immortal
souls, with all their wealth and influence; and so
the small sum expended now, become ten years hence
entirely inestimable. The same may be said of
a minister sent now to the heathen, instead of ten
years hence; and the same, too, may be said of every
department of doing good. It would appear then,
that, in all ordinary cases, to make an immediate
use of funds in doing good is to lay them out to the
greatest possible interest; that by such a course we
can be the means of peopling heaven faster than in
any other way. We can hardly appreciate how much
we save by saving time, and how much we lose
by losing it. Worldly men, in their railroad
and steam-packet spirit of the present day, seem to
have caught some just sense of the importance of time,
and we, in our enterprises to do good, must not be
unmindful of it.
Again, is not the expenditure of property
in the work of doing good, not only the most advantageous,
but also the safest possible investment of
God’s funds? Whilst kept in capital, it
is always exposed to greater or less risk. Fire
may consume it. Floods may sweep it away.
Dishonest men may purloin it. A gale at sea may
bury it. A reverse of times may ingulf it.
But when used in doing good, it is sent up to the safe-keeping
of the bank of God; it is commuted into the precious
currency of heaven; it is exchanged for souls made
happy, and harps and crowns of gold.
Again, A. keeps a large property in
capital, and therefore B. resolves to accumulate
a large property, and then give the income. But
whilst accumulating it, he not only leaves the world
to perish, but also runs the risk of ruining his own
soul the awful hazard which always attends
the project of becoming rich. And the result is,
in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, that the summons
of death arrives before the promised beneficence is
paid in.
In view of such considerations, would
it not be wiser, safer, and very much better,
in most instances at least, that the greater part of
large capitals should be made use of at once in the
service of the Redeemer?
It is said of Normand Smith, that
“he dared not be rich;” and that “it
became an established rule with him, to use for benevolent
distribution all the means which he could take
from his business, and still prosecute it successfully;”
and that he charged a brother on his dying bed, to
do good with his substance while living, and not suffer
it to accumulate to be disposed of, at the last extremity,
by will. Sound advice. A few other such
men there have been in the world, and they are the
SHINING LIGHTS. Their example is brilliant all
over with true wisdom.
It is not acting always as faithful
stewards, merely to accumulate wealth to promote the
cause of Christ; for there may be more need of our
personal service in disseminating the Gospel,
than of any pecuniary means we can contribute.
Christians are not faithful stewards, merely when
they labor for Christ, but when they do that
by which they may most promote the cause of Christ.
The dissemination of Gospel truth is the great end
to be aimed at, either directly or indirectly.
Now, it is evident that many must further this object
by accumulating the pecuniary means; but the danger
is, that too many, far too many prefer this course.
Many conclude, with perfect safety and justness, that
in practising law or medicine, or in selling goods,
in tilling a farm, or in laboring in a shop, they
are doing as much to further the object as in any
other way; but some, it is believed, come to such a
conclusion either from mistaken views or mistaken
motives. The fact that so large a proportion
of God’s stewards resort to the notion of operating
by proxy, and that so few choose to engage in the
direct work, shows that there is danger existing.
Not only the fathers, but a vast majority of the middle
aged and the young, prefer to advance the cause of
Christ by accumulating the pecuniary means. Now,
why is there such a rushing after this department
of the great work?
The Saviour calls for a great army
of preachers, to carry his Gospel everywhere, and
to proclaim it to all nations, kindreds and people.
In truth, you need not go beyond the limits of the
United States to feel the force of this remark.
Look at the destitutions in the more newly settled
states and territories, and see if there is not need
of men to preach the Gospel. But notwithstanding
this need, only a small number, comparatively, offer
themselves to the work. Almost all young men,
even the professedly pious, slide easily into lucrative
occupations; but to bring them into the direct work
of making known Christ, they must be urged and persuaded
by a score of arguments.
It is needed, too, of lay members
of the church, to do much in searching out the destitute
and the dying, who exist in multitudes, even about
their own dwellings; to give here a word of warning,
and there a word of consolation; to add here a helping
hand, and impart there the restoring effect of sympathy
and kindness; in short, to employ some hours in the
day in going everywhere, as the early disciples did,
from house to house and street to street, and in communicating,
in an appropriate way, the simple truths of Jesus.
Laymen, too, are needed in great numbers in the foreign
service. There are reasons numerous and urgent,
which I cannot here name, why lay members in the church
should go abroad.
But notwithstanding this call for
personal effort, it is too often that we meet with
church members who are completely engrossed, from early
dawn to the close of day, in accumulating wealth; and
who deny themselves the luxury of spending either
hour of the twenty-four, in conversing with souls,
and leading them to Jesus. Such persons will give
somewhat of their substance, when called upon; and
press on, almost out of breath apparently, in the
cares of the world, not thinking to say to this man
or that, on the right hand and the left, that there
is a heaven above and a hell beneath, and death is
at the door. You would almost imagine, from the
conduct of some, that they would like to commit to
proxy even their own faith and repentance. Now
this entire engrossment in worldly cares, even though
professedly for Christ’s sake, will never illumine
the dark recesses of the earth will never
usher in the millenial day.
It is not so much, after all, an accumulation
of wealth that is needed, as the personal engagement
of Christians in making known everywhere, at home
and abroad, the precious news of Jesus. The disposition
to go everywhere, regardless of wealth, and with Jesus
on our lips, must be the spirit of the church, before
we can expect much good either at home or abroad.
The world will not be covered with the knowledge of
the Lord as the waters cover the sea, till men to
make known that word are scattered like rain on all
the earth not only in heathen lands, but
in the streets and lanes of large cities, and throughout
the Western desolations. “So long as we
remain together, like water in a lake, so long the
moral world will be desolate. We must go everywhere,
and if the expansive warmth of benevolence will not
separate us, so that we arise and go on the wings
of the wind, God, be assured, will break up the fountains
of the great deep of society, and dashing the parts
together, like ocean in his turmoil or Niagara in
its fall, cover the heavens with showers, and set
the bow of hope for the nations, and the desert shall
rejoice and blossom as the rose. God is too good
to suffer either Amazon or Superior to lie still,
and become corrupt, and the heavens in consequence
to be brass and the earth iron.” God is
too benevolent also, in the arrangements of the moral
world, to allow his people to be inactive to
have here a continuing city, and be immersed in the
cares of the world as though here were their treasure,
while thousands about them are dying for lack of instruction,
and the heathen abroad are going down to death in
one unbroken phalanx. The church must take more
exercise, and the proper kind, too, or she will become
frail and sickly, too weak in prayer, and too ignorant
in effort to usher in the millenial day.
It is a possible thing to seek wealth
honestly for God; but he that is called to
such a work, has more occasion to mourn than to rejoice:
he has occasion to tremble, watch, and pray; for to
be a faithful steward of God’s property, requires
perhaps more grace than to be a faithful steward of
God’s truth. We find many a faithful preacher
of the Gospel where we find one Normand Smith, or
Nathaniel R. Cobb, or one firm of Homes & Homer.
The grace needed is so great, and the temptations to
err so many, that almost all prove defaulters, and
therefore it is that the world lies in ruins:
not because the church has not wealth enough, but
because God’s stewards claim to be owners.
How small the sum appropriated by
a million and a half of God’s stewards to save
a sinking world! The price of earthly ambition,
convenience and pleasure, is counted by millions.
Navies and armies have their millions; railroads and
canals have their millions; colleges and schools have
their millions; silks, carpets and mirrors, have their
millions; parties of pleasure and licentiousness in
high life and in low life have their millions; and
what has the treasury of God and the Lamb, to redeem
a world of souls from the pains of eternal damnation,
and to fill them with joys unspeakable? The sum
is so small in comparison that one’s tongue
refuses to utter it.
There must be a different scale of
giving; and the only way to effect it is, to induce
a different style of personal consecration. Let
a man give himself, or rather let him have a heart
that cannot refrain from telling of Jesus to
those who are near, or from going to those who are
more remote, and the mere item of property you will
find appended, as a matter of course, and on the plain
principle that the greater always includes the less.
We must learn to devote, according to our vows, time,
talents, body, soul and spirit. Bodies and minds
are wanted; the bones and sinews of men are required:
these more substantial things are needed, as well
as property, in arduous services at home and still
more self-denying labor abroad; and no redeemed sinner
can refuse either the one or the other, and continue
to be regarded as a faithful steward of Jesus. Money,
though needed, is by no means all that is required
of us.
Though God has devolved upon us, as
stewards, a responsible work, the weight of which
is fearful, and sufficient to crush us unless aided
from on high, yet the employment is one of indescribable
delight. It is a pleasant work. Angels
would rejoice to be so employed.
Is there any professed Christian who
does not relish the idea? To such an one I would
say, Your condition is by no means enviable. You
deny yourself all true happiness. If you do not
delight in the thought of being God’s steward;
of holding not only property, but body, soul and spirit
at God’s control, then you know not what true
luxury is. There is pleasure in doing good; there
is a luxury in entire consecration to God. The
pleasures of this earth are empty, vain and fleeting;
but the pleasure of doing good is real, substantial
and enduring. The pleasure of doing good is the
joy of angels; it is the thrill of delight which pervades
the soul of Jesus; it is the happiness of the eternal
God. In not wishing to be God’s steward,
you deny yourself this luxury; you refuse angels’
food and feed on husks. O, there is a richness
of holy joy in yielding up all to God, and holding
ourselves as waiting servants to do his will.
This fullness of bliss you foolishly spurn from you,
and turn away to the “beggarly elements of the
world.” Do you feel that the principles
of stewardship contained in the Bible are too strict that
too entire a devotement is required of you? Angels
do not think so. Redeemed saints do not think
so. The more entire the consecration, the more
perfect the bliss. In heaven devotement is perfect,
and joy of course unalloyed. Blot out this spirit
of consecration, you blot out all true happiness on
earth; you annihilate heaven.
But it is not only a luxury, but an
honor to be the stewards of God. What honor
greater than that of continuing the work which Jesus
commenced; of being employed in the immense business
of saving a ruined race? What work more glorious
than that of being the instruments of peopling heaven?
What employment more noble than to rescue immortal
souls from endless agonies, and to raise them to eternal
joys; to take their feet from the sides of the burning
lake, and to plant them on the firm pavement of heaven;
to rescue victims from eternal burnings, and to place
them as gems in the diadem of God? Would not Gabriel
feel himself honored with a work so noble and glorious?
Were a presidency or a kingdom offered you, spurn
it and be wise; but contemn not the glory of being
God’s stewards.
Remember, too, whether these are your
views or not, the work of God will go on. The
world will be converted. The glorious event is
promised. Almighty power and infinite wisdom
are engaged to accomplish it: all the resources
of heaven are pledged. The God of heaven, he will
prosper his true servants, and they shall arise and
build; but those who do not relish the idea of being
God’s stewards, can have no portion, nor right,
nor memorial in Jerusalem. The wheels of God’s
providence are rolling onward: those wheels are
high and dreadful. Will you, being a professed
Christian, dare to oppose the march of God? “Ah!
we do not oppose,” say you. But
I reply, There can be no neutrality; you must either
help onward his car of victory, or you do really stand
in the way will be crushed by his power,
and ground into the earth by the weight of his chariot.
Take then, I entreat you, this warning, which is given
you in earnestness, but in the spirit of love.
Joy, glory and immortality, to all
who will cordially assent to be co-workers with Jesus.
They shall ride with him in his chariot from conquering
to conquer, and shall sit with him on his throne in
the day of triumph.
Be entreated, then, professed Christian,
first to give your own soul to the Lord, and with
your soul all you have, all you are, and all you hope
to be. Make an entire consecration. You will
never regret having done so, in time or in eternity.
May God give us all grace to imbibe
wholly the true principles of stewardship. Not
the principles popular in the world, but the principles
of the Bible; those principles which hold out the only
hope of the latter day glory of means commensurate
with so great an end.