Signs of the Times
By J. C. Ryle, October 21, 1884
Enormous luxury, extravagance, self-indulgence,
mammon-worship, and an idolatry of fashion and amusements, are sorrowful
marks of our times.
With all our outward show of religion, is there any
proportionate increase of internal reality? With all this immense growth of
external Christianity, is there any corresponding growth of vital godliness?
Is there more faith, repentance, and holiness among the worshipers in our
churches? Is there more of that saving faith without which it is impossible
to please God, more of that repentance unto salvation without which a man
must perish, and more of that holiness without which no man shall see the
Lord? Is our Lord Jesus Christ more known and trusted and loved and obeyed?
Is the inward work of the Holy Spirit more realized and experienced among
our people? Are the grand verities of justification, conversion,
sanctification, more thoroughly grasped and rightly esteemed by our
congregations? Is there more private Bible reading, private prayer, private
self-denial, private mortification of the flesh, private exhibition of
meekness, gentleness, and unselfishness? In a word, is there more private
religion at home in all the relations of life? These are very serious
questions, and I wish they could receive very satisfactory answers. I
sometimes fear that there is an enormous amount of hollowness and unreality
in much of the Church religion of the present day, and that, if weighed in
God's balances, it would be found terribly wanting.
For after all, we must remember that it is written, 'Man
looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.' The great
Head of the Church has said, 'This people draws near to me with their mouth,
and honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.' He has also
said, 'The true worshipers shall worship in spirit and in truth, for the
Father seeks such to worship Him.' If there is one thing more clearly taught
than another in the Word of God, it is the utter uselessness of formal
outward worship, however beautifully conducted, when the hearts of the
worshipers are not right in the sight of God. I suspect that the Temple
worship in the days when our Lord Jesus Christ was upon earth was as
perfectly and beautifully performed as possible. I have little doubt that
the music, the singing, the prayers, the dress of the priests, the gestures,
the postures, the regularity and punctuality of the ceremonial observances,
the keeping of the feasts and fasts, were all perfection itself, and there
was nothing faulty or defective. But where was true saving religion in those
days? What was the inward godliness of men like Annas and Caiaphas and their
companions? What was the general standard of living among the fierce zealots
of the law of Moses who crucified the Lord of Glory? You all know as well as
I do. There is only one answer. The whole Jewish Church, with all its
magnificent ritual, was nothing but a great whited sepulcher, beautiful
without, but utterly rotten and corrupt within. In short, the Jewish Church
was intended by God to be a beacon to all Christendom, and I am certain that
these are days in which its lessons ought not to be forgotten.
We must not be content with what men call 'bright and
hearty' services, and frequent administrations of the Lord's Supper. We must
remember that these things do not constitute the whole of religion, and that
no Christianity is valuable in the sight of God which does not influence the
hearts, the consciences, and the lives of those who profess it. It is not
always the church and congregation in which there is the best music and
singing, and from which young people return saying, 'How beautiful it was,'
in which God takes most pleasure. It is the church in which there is most of
the presence of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, and the congregation in
which there are most 'broken hearts and contrite spirits.' If our eyes were
only opened to see invisible things, like the eyes of Elisha's servant, we
might discover to our amazement that there is more presence of the King of
kings, and consequently more blessing, in some humble unadorned mission room
where the Gospel is faithfully preached, than in some of the grandest
churches in the land.
There is nothing like testing systems by their results.
Let us ask quietly whether there has been any increase of Christian
liberality and spiritual-mindedness in the land, in proportion to the
enormous increase of attention to external worship. I am afraid the reply
will be found very unsatisfactory. In many cases, the money given by a
congregation to help missions at home and abroad, and to promote direct work
for the salvation of souls in any way, would be found absurdly out of
proportion to the money expended on organist, choir, ferns, flowers, and
general decoration. Can this be right? And is this a healthy state of
things? Does the annual contribution of money for religious purposes
throughout England and Wales, in these days of enormously increasing wealth,
bear any proportion to the gigantic expenditure on racing, hunting,
shooting, yachting, elaborate entertainments, fashion, dancing, and the
general round of recreation? Yet all this goes on in the face of an immense
increase of external religion! I cannot think this a symptom of a healthy
condition.
I shall never forget what an American clergyman said to
me not long ago, when I asked him what he thought of the state of Church
religion on revisiting England after an absence of some ten years. He told
me in reply that while he saw a great increase of music, singing, and
ceremonial religion in our public worship, he could not see the slightest
increase, but rather a decrease, of true religion among our worshipers. I
have a sorrowful suspicion that the American was not far wrong.
The preaching of the pure Word of God is the first mark
of a healthy Church. It is sound doctrine taught and preached, and not
ritual, which in every age the Holy Spirit has used for awakening sleeping
human consciences, building up the cause of Christ, and saving souls. The
dens and caves and upper rooms in which the primitive Christians used to
meet were doubtless very rough and unadorned. They had no carved wood or
stone, no stained glass, no costly vestments, no organs, and no surpliced
choirs. But these primitive worshipers were the men who 'turned the world
upside down,' and I doubt not that their places of worship were far more
honorable in God's sight. It was well and truly said that in those ancient
days 'the Church had wooden communion vessels--but golden ministers,' and it
was this which gave the primitive Church its power. And when religion began
to decay, it was said that the conditions were reversed; the ministers
became wooden--and the communion plate golden.
But I want everything in the English Church in the 19th
century to be golden. I long to have everywhere golden ministers,
golden worship, golden preaching, golden praying, and golden praise. I want
everything in the service of God to be done as perfectly as possible, and no
part of it to be scamped, slurred over, done carelessly, and left out in the
cold. I charge you affectionately, my reverend brethren, to make this your
aim. Let the best, brightest, and heartiest services be always accompanied
by the best and ablest sermons that your minds can produce and your tongues
deliver. Let your sermons be addresses in which Christ's blood, mediation,
and intercession; Christ's love, power, and willingness to save; the real
work of the Holy Spirit, repentance, faith, and holiness; are never
lacking—sermons full of life, and fire, and power; sermons which set hearers
thinking, and make them go home to pray. Then, and then only will the Church
have its just influence, and God will open the windows of heaven and give us
a blessing.
The very best and most elaborate services are only means
to an end, and that end should be the salvation of souls. All is not done
when people have heard beautiful music and singing, and seen the most
ornamental ceremonial. Are their hearts and consciences better? Is sin more
hateful? Is Christ more precious? Is holiness more desired? Are they
becoming more ready for death, judgment, and eternity every week that they
live? These are the grand ends which every clergyman should set before him
in every service which he conducts. He should strive to conduct it with an
abiding recollection of the eye of God, the sound of the last trumpet, the
resurrection of the dead, and the final judgment--and not with the petty
thought, 'Is my service bright, hearty, and well done?' That these may be
more and more the aims of every clergyman in the present day, is my earnest
prayer.