1. Should Christian teaching be regarded as a profession? It is so now: men are brought up to it, trained for it, and live by it, as architects, lawyers, doctors. Surely preaching the gospel should no more be regarded as a profession than the talk of loving parents to their children.
2. Is the Church justified in confining its attention to the ministry of one man? In most modern congregations there are some Christian men who, by natural ability, by experimental knowledge and inspiration, are far more qualified to instruct and comfort the people than their professional and stated minister. Surely official preaching has no authority, either in Scripture, reason, or experience, and it must come to an end sooner or later. Every Christian man should be a preacher. Were the half hour allotted in Church services for the sermon to be occupied by three or four Christly men, thoughtful and reverent, with the capability of expression withal, it would not only be far more interesting, but more profitably spent than now.
II. That the Christian Church in assembly might ALLOW ONE OF ITS GODLY MEN TO RISE AND SPEAK ON THE INSPIRATION OF THE MOMENT. "If anything be revealed to another that sitteth by, let the first hold his peace." This does not mean, I presume, that the one who is speaking is to be interrupted, but that after he has delivered his message another, if he felt truly inspired to do so, might rise and address the audience. May it not be that under every discourse there might be some one or more in the audience so divinely excited with a rush of holy thought, that he craves for an utterance, not for his own sake, but for the sake of others; and why should he not have the opportunity? What an interest such an event would add to a religious service!
III. That the Christian Church in assembly SHOULD SUBMIT THE UTTERANCES OF ITS TEACHERS TO A DEVOUT CRITICAL JUDGMENT. "Let the other judge," or, as the New Version has it, "Let the others discern [or, 'discriminate']." The people were not to accept as a matter of course all that the prophets or teachers spake to them; for even were they inspired, they were not infallible. They were to act as it is said the Bereans did, who "searched the Scriptures daily whether those things were so." Ah me! if congregations were so to act, there would soon come an end to the crudities, the assumptions, and the dogmas of modern pulpits.
IV. That the Christian Church in assembly SHOULD IN ALL ITS SERVICES MAINTAIN ORDER. "And the spirits of the prophets are subject to the prophets. For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace, as in all Churches of the saints." It is a characteristic of a true teacher that, however full of inspiration, he can so master his impulses as to prevent confusion. This should always be done, "for God is not the author of confusion, but of peace." Notwithstanding all the liberty of teaching, all the enthusiasm of the new life, where Christianity reigns there will be no disorder; all will be peace. There is an order in dead mechanism, and there is order, too, in the roar of ocean and in the thunderstorm. All that is Divine is under law.
HOMILIES BY C. LIPSCOMB
1 Corinthians 14:1-5
Love controls zeal in behalf of spiritual gifts.
In the opening verse we have three ideas, viz. love as a virtue to be diligently sought and practised, spiritual gifts as objects worthy of desire, and prophesying as a gift among gifts to be especially prized. "Rather that ye may prophesy" is the formative thought of this chapter, and it must be kept in view by the reader, since it is explicit or implicit in every associated idea. But this leading thought is closely connected with the twelfth and thirteenth chapters, and this also must be considered by the reader. To understand the reasoning of the apostle in the fourteenth chapter and sympathize with the fervour of his exhortation in the "rather that ye may prophesy," remember that he is contemplating prophecy from the standpoint of love. How else, forsooth, could he regard it, either in the logic as bearing on intellect, or in the appeal as applied to experience, or in their united effect on Christian character? Prophecy, in the light here presented, is not simply a revelation of God's will and wisdom to others, but likewise a revelation of love as a conscious influence pervading, inspiring, controlling the soul of the prophet or teacher. It is a voice from God himself by the Spirit. It is a Divine voice, moreover, in tones and accents most truly, most thoroughly, human, became of tender sympathy with the needs of its fellow men and their dependence on it for guidance, help, furtherance, in the salvation of their souls. One of the aspects of love as the '"greatest" instantly comes before the eye Prophecy, in the case of the man so gifted, is an organ of his love, so that he teaches, not to enjoy the activity and brilliance of his intellect, or make in any way a demonstration of himself, but solely to benefit his fellows. Actuated wholly by brotherly sentiment, he comes down from the pedestal of complacent self regard, and values his endowment in the degree that he is able to take the common level, and thereby instruct and console his brethren. Why, then, should the argument in this chapter follow the eulogy on love so closely? One reason—the chief reason—we may suppose to be that the gift of "tongues" was overvalued, and, as a consequence, the capacity to teach was depreciated. Without disparaging the "tongues" when rightly used, St. Paul lays a very proper stress on teaching, and gives it the preference, on the ground that it allows a fuller, freer, more effective manifestation of love. "Now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love. And so, too, now abide the "spiritual gifts," the gifts in general, "tongues" and "prophecy" m particular, but the "greatest of these" is "prophecy." The parallelism is complete. And how easily St. Paul glides from the chapter on love as the greatest among virtues to the chapter on teaching as the greatest among gifts! One would have supposed that, after such an effort of analytic and descriptive intellect and its interblending with emotional outgoings, there would be a rebound, a pause for nature to recover from an intense exertion; but this is not apparent. The strong man is still strong, the eye beams as brightly and the hand moves as firmly as before, and the eulogist of love passes into the eulogist of prophecy with no change other than that which the nature of the new topic necessitates. The argument in 1 Corinthians 14:2 takes an antithetic form. There is speaking in an unknown tongue. The speech is not a communication of wisdom to others, but a mysterious activity that exalts the speaker above the ordinary sphere of self consciousness and is ecstatic. "No man understandeth him." There is the outward hearing on man's part, but no inward hearing. God is the only listener who comprehends him: "He speaketh... unto God;" "In the spirit he seeketh mysteries." The mysteries are things "which are hidden from the hearers, and sometimes also from the speaker himself" (Alford). Was language a sublimer function than we have comprehended? Are there uses of expressional power of which we know nothing? Are there utterances of intuition beyond our power to grasp? Is there some one vast generalization of speech as interiorily related to pure reason, under which, as fragmentary forms of embodied thought and as representations of the functional energies of the mental faculties, all the utilities of speech are classified? We cannot tell.
1. All we know is that the speaker here under notice speaks from his "spirit;" intellect, emotion, the entire nature, are simultaneously excited. Barriers between the faculties are broken down; speech is no longer merely philosophic, or poetic, or impassioned, but it is in some occult way the articulation of the spirit in its wholeness. No man ever said anything that he could look upon as the complete expression of himself. Before he utters his greatest thoughts, he is very hopeful of doing full justice to them; afterwards he is half abashed, deplores his shortcoming, and gazes with a feeling somewhat reproachful on the ideal that retreated afar. Now, in the instance St. Paul has in view, the speaker is under the perfected sway of his spirit, and he transcends the limits of habitual consciousness.
2. All we know is that this exceptional speaker utters "mysteries." And the "mysteries," out of whose deep solitudes the voice comes, remain mysteries; neither word nor tone, neither look nor gesture, gives any solution of the meaning. The secrets have taken on sound, but the sense is concealed, and the very sound is a deeper silence. And has not such silence its uses? Is it a mere image to the fancy that Milton gives when he so finely personifies Silence in paradise as pleased with the song of the "wakeful nightingale"? Or when Thomson breathes the invocation: "Come, then, expressive Silence, muse his praise"? And, in the present case, the sound falls back into silence, but, nevertheless, the "unknown tongue" is among "spiritual gifts," and fills its sphere in the spiritual economy of Christ's universe. What, then, is the object of St. Paul's argument? It is a question of, comparative worth, that he discusses. These Corinthians are fascinated by the tongues, and, in their passion for high excitements, have been led to exaggerate beyond bounds the ecstatic singularity of the "unknown tongue." This unhappy craving for morbid and tumultuous agitation, this delight in sensations and emotions, threatened the decay, ay, the destruction of spirituality. It was the spirit of man, indeed, but the spirit borrowing the impulses of the lower man, instead of holding itself aloof from a depraving alliance with ungoverned blood and nerves. The remedy of the evil was in a proper estimate of the gifts as relative to brotherhood and helpfulness of others. Therefore, "desire… rather that ye may prophesy." And wherefore? That ye may "speak unto men" with three ends in view, namely, edification, exhortation, comfort. To edify is to build up the whole framework of Christian character; to exhort is to incite to duty by timely, appropriate, and effectual motives; to comfort is to show tenderness of fellow feeling and be partners of the cares, burdens, and sorrows of others. What a blessed prerogative, to go forth from the isolations of intellect and from the selfish exclusiveness that our own anxieties and sufferings not infrequently bind upon us, and impart ourselves in large sympathies to such as in their weakness need our strength! "Himself;" there the benefit lies. Lifted to a lofty height, borne upward from one sublimity to another, rapt and entranced, it is still himself that is the party concerned. There may be quickening and ennobling; the immense realm within the soul, where the surprises of possible consciousness are dormant, may suddenly yield their resources and give the soul a new and astonishing sense of itself; yet, despite of all such results, it is himself, first and last. But he "that prophesieth edifieth the Church." A community gets the benefit, not the mere man "himself." Is St. Paul depreciating the speaking with tongues? Hear his hearty wish: "I would that ye all spake with tongues." In perfect consistency with this testimony to the worth of the tongues, he adds that he desires for them more ardently the gift of prophecy. Why this more fervent wish? Because the prophet or teacher is greater than the speaker with tongues not interpreted—greater because he builds up and inspirits and cheers his brethren more than the mystical speaker with "an unknown tongue;" greater because "it is more blessed to give than to receive"—L.
1 Corinthians 14:6-13
Argument continued and illustrated.
Greater is the teacher than the speaker in a tongue not interpreted, was the statement of the apostle in the fifth verse. Suppose, then, that even he were to address these Corinthians "with tongues;" would not the edification be confined to himself? There would be no exception in his case, none in his favour as the apostle of the Gentiles, and hence his usefulness, no matter what he might say, would be at an end, for lack of interpretation. "What shall I profit you?" The profit is only possible by means of doctrine and knowledge. Tongues unexplained convey no doctrine and knowledge, and hence, as relative to the hearers, are nugatory. For instance, there are musical instruments, "pipe or harp," that have a language in the broad sense of the word, and convey their meanings if skilfully used. The instrument in the hands of an intelligent performer, though in itself "without life," yet receives life as it were from him who knows how to handle it. A dead thing, yet his breath or his touch imparts a representative vitality to its sounds, and you hear in those sounds the sentiments and emotions of the soul. What a range they have, rising and falling by turns, exulting, sorrowing, shouting, wailing! To effect this, there must be "a distinction in the sounds;" the instrument must obey its laws, and the laws are dictated by the art of music. And he argues further, that a trumpet in battle can give such discriminating sounds as to direct the movements of soldiers. The commanding officer, though distant, speaks to the trumpeter, and the trumpeter conveys the order through the trumpet. A thing "without life," and yet it outreaches the compass of the living voice and is fully understood, for it gives no "uncertain sound." Musical instruments are interpreters. Their utility exists in their intelligible modulations. If it were otherwise, they would but confuse and bewilder. The comparison is promptly applied. "So likewise ye," with all your admiration for "tongues" and your disposition to give them pre-eminence among the gifts, are indulging in a wild and incoherent display, unless you "utter by the tongue words easy to be understood." Words are not sufficient; they must be words easy to be understood. The capacity of the hearer, the humblest in the congregation, must be thoughtfully regarded, otherwise they are to him idle rhapsodies; "ye shall speak into the air." If neither "pipe," nor "harp," nor "trumpet" give an "uncertain sound," still less could it be said of human voices (languages) that they are unintelligible. "Many kinds are in the world, and none of them without signification." Varieties exist. The surface of the globe is not more diversified than language, and yet, as the globe is one, so are these languages one, although very unequal as to capacity for the conveyance of ideas. But is the "tongue" like these voices? If not, then he that speaketh in this way is a barbarian; and would you barbarians in your Christian relations, outside foreigners, you and your fellow citizens in the commonwealth of Christ shut out from intelligible communication with one another? We can see, while reading St. Paul's argument, what force it contains. Pentecost had restored what Babel had destroyed; the ambitious tower that was to reach so high had been arrested by confusion of tongues; men had scattered from one great centre, and human centralization had been stopped in the evil form threatened. Pentecost had enabled men to cooperate; all languages could now be used as vehicles of making known the gospel, and the builders could work together on the temple of the Church. Pentecost, however, was here annulled, and Corinth was making ready to scatter her Christian population, to alienate them from community of impulse and aim, and changing the members of the Church in this respect into barbarians to one another. "Even so ye," declares the apostle, who are "zealous of spiritual gifts," should esteem it your first concern to edify the Church. "Wherefore," he adds in application, let the speaker in an unknown tongue "pray that he may interpret." Whatever construction may be given this difficult passage, it is certain that St. Paul intended to teach the Corinthians the absolute insulation of this sort of speech, its essential characteristic as opposed to the true function of language, and the complete exclusion of its possessor from the fellowship of the outward world.—L.
1 Corinthians 14:14-22
Further enforcement of the argument.
At this point in the discussion St. Paul refers to the distinction between the spirit and the understanding. Such a distinction must be recognized or his argument has no basis in the nature of the human mind, and, if there be no foundation in the laws of the mind for this difference between Spirit and understanding, the operations of the Holy Spirit in the two forms under notice are inconceivable. Man has a spirit—a power of introversion that withdraws itself from the avenues of outward activity; a capacity of absorption in its own thoughts and feelings as self related; a susceptibility to receive Divine influence as an experience restricted to its own intuitions and making the man himself the supreme object. Man, too, has an understanding, and its functions are to connect him with other men. But is there an impassable gulf between the two? Certainly not; the spirit may cooperate with the understanding. Left to its own ecstatic freedom, the spirit may soar and shine, but the flight is in loneliness and the resplendency unwitnessed. In this condition the body indicates occult activities that we do not comprehend, and its physiological expressions are, in a certain sense, "unknown tongues." On the other hand, this state may be translated from the unknown into the known by means of the understanding, and thus the latter, which was previously "unfruitful," becomes fruitful of thought and emotion in others. Prayer and praise will thus be mutual to spirit and understanding in the original party. No longer wilt these be dissevered forces, but coalescent for the common good, and the "unlearned" can intelligibly say, "Amen." What is worship without this true "Amen"? Response there must be; heart must go up to God with heart; and the glad "Amen" will be the assurance of this beautiful mutuality. The value of this single word cannot be measured. What a history it has! Far back in Hebrew life, when the psalms gave voice and sentiment to the thanksgiving of the nation; further back yet, when Israel wandered in the desert; in the land of promise, in the lands of captivity; heard in the acknowledgment of chastening and in the celebrations of returning light and hope; temple and synagogue, homes and booths, war and peace, repeating its loud echoes; and descending through the Christian ages with a deeper and more touching import, and everywhere an utterance precious to faith and sympathy, whether in lowly kirk or magnificent cathedral;—what a past this word preserves! "True or faithful," how could its meaning but survive in the long struggle of truth and fidelity for triumph in the world? And what honour comes to it when Christ himself is represented in the Apocalypse as the "Amen, the faithful and true Witness"! No marvel, then, that St. Paul felt the thrill of this "Amen" when he said that, though he spoke "with tongues more than ye all," yet he would "rather speak five words" with his understanding, and so teach others, than "ten thousand words in an unknown tongue." No higher estimate than this was ever put on practical wisdom. The best and profoundest utilitarian is the man who advocates utility on this high ground. St. Paul argued so warmly in behalf of the "understanding" because he felt so deeply the glory of the human "spirit." Hence the exhortation: "Brethren… in understanding be men," and this manliness is enforced by an appeal to Jewish history (Isaiah 28:11), wherein is seen the threatened judgment of Jehovah on those who despised the simplicity and truthfulness of Old Testament teaching. Then comes the significant "wherefore," followed by two ideas:
1 Corinthians 14:23-32
How a spectator would regard the tongues; the gracious effects of prophesying; interpretation or silence.
Suppose that the whole Church were to assemble in one place (argues the apostle), and all "speak with tongues;" the unchecked energy pouring itself forth in many and discordant volumes, each speaker borne away on the mighty tide of his own transport; no one considerate of another; the car scarcely cognizant of the sound issuing from the lips, the eye insensible to the impression made on a beholder;—suppose such a state of things occurring in the Corinthian Church, and, amid the disorder and commotion, the "unlearned" (those unacquainted with the meaning of the exhibition) or the "unbelievers" (such as were not converted to Christianity) were to make their appearance and look upon the scene; would they not think them "mad"? Instantly he reverses the supposition. The work of teaching is in progress, and the Church is receiving the doctrines, duties, consolations, of the gospel in appropriate methods of instruction. A person, who is unlearned or unbelieving, enters the assembly. He hears, is able to understand, is "convinced of all" and "judged of all." The word reaches his inmost consciousness, and he is revealed to himself. Perception, reflection, self scrutiny, judgment, conscience, are aroused by the Holy Spirit, and for the first time, perchance, he listens to the voice of his own instincts in the articulations of others. It is usually through some mediating soul that God makes us known to ourselves In our darkness the light is reflected as that of the moon on the night, and the sunrise and the day follow afterwards. And, in this case, the unlearned or unbeliever has the "secrets of his heart made manifest." The throne of judgment is set within; the hour is calm and meditative; the man is brought to the bar; and the ministering servants of the eternal Judge are here with their testimony. Most of all, the Divine Agent is here, of whom Jesus Christ said, "He shall testify of me." Step by step the trial advances. Memory speaks from the past, fear speaks of the future. The sense of guilt is awakened, "and so falling down on his face," overpowered by his convictions, "he will worship God, and report that God is in you of a truth." How is this? In the one case, there is an impression of madmen; in the other, God is felt to be with these men. In the former, religion was an unintelligible thing; in the latter, it was comprehensible. Recall the power of the "five words" spoken to the understanding, versus the "ten thousand" uttered in rhapsody, and the secret is explained. What, then, is the practical inference? "If, when you are met together, one is prepared to sing a hymn of praise, another to exercise his gift of teaching, another his gift of tongues, another to deliver a revelation, another an interpretation" (Conybeare and Howson); shall any of God's gifts be suppressed or discarded? Room for all, need for all, blessings for all, blessings in all, exist; and none must be suffered to fall into desuetude or cast away as useless. Let each have time and opportunity, subject to one inflexible condition: "Let all things be done unto edifying." Edify has had emphasis after emphasis in the conduct of the argument, and surely the Corinthians can be at no loss to understand its meaning. But St. Paul will particularize. Edification allows the use of tongues. Edification requires, however, that the tongues be used in order and under strict propriety. The order and propriety are specified: "If there be any who speak in tongues, let not more than two, or at the most three, speak (in the same assembly); and let them speak in turn; and let the same interpreter explain the words of all" (Conybeare and Howson). How important the interpreter was is obvious, for he says, "If there be no interpreter," let him who speaks in tongues "keep silence in the Church." Will this destroy his devotional spirit? Nay; he may still commune silently with himself and with God. Prophets may also "speak two or three," but edification holds them likewise under rule. "Let the others judge." Inspired teachers were amenable to the Church in the persons of those who possessed the gift of discernment as a specialty from the Holy Ghost. Furthermore, edification demands, that if the Spirit suddenly and powerfully act on "another that sitteth by," let the latter be heard. "One by one;" this is the method of edification, "that all may learn, and all may be comforted." For this was a matter under each prophet's personal control. In him the "spirit" and the "understanding" were harmonious. Consciousness kept its serene poise. There could be no reach of thought beyond the jurisdiction of the will, no passion for undue excitement, no verging towards hysterical emotion. And as heart and lungs maintain their beautiful relativity, and thus secure the maximum of health and vigour to the body, so "spirit" and "understanding" act in the prophet with no jar or jostle, but in perfect accord. For the "spirits of the prophets are subject to the prophets."—L.
1 Corinthians 14:33-40
Concluding views.
If edification was to be the rule of conduct in everything, it is plain that the prophets must govern themselves. No matter how sincere and truthful their zeal, or how honest and excellent their purpose, feelings, and even the best feelings, must be held under firm restraint. They had this power, and it was from God; for he is "not the author of confusion, but of peace, as in all Churches of the saints." St. Paul directs further that "women keep silence in the Churches." If the Corinthians objected to this injunction, what right had they so to do? Usage in the Christian community as a whole was to be observed; local peculiarities offensive to the spirit and tastes of the body of Christ were not to be indulged. How could they claim exemption from a rule recognized everywhere? Were they the original Church? or did their position warrant any exclusive customs at variance with established custom? To enforce this view and the argument in the chapter, he asserts in the strongest manner that he spoke from Divine inspiration. "No more direct assertion of inspiration can be uttered than this" (Alford). If any one deny this inspiration, no controversy must be had with him. "Let him be ignorant," and, perchance, he may be self convicted of his error. Then the idea which has been so prominent in his mind is introduced again in the words, "covet to prophesy." Had he not made good its claim to a pre-eminent excellence? By the concurrent "Amen" of approval and sympathy, by his own special delight in this gift, by the manliness connected with its exercise, by the effect on spectators, by the capacity of self government which accompanied its activity and the culture given to volition and feeling, he exhorts his brethren to desire fervently this means of usefulness. What a momentum has the argument acquired before it comes to a close! Vapours rise from large tracts of territory, float in the air, run together, condense in clouds, and then descend in fruitful blessing to the fields. Far inland a stream begins its flow, gathers rivulets and creeks into its channel, and, before it reaches the ocean, has drained half a continent. St. Paul omits nothing essential to the greatness of his argument. From the Hebrew Scriptures, from musical instruments, from the "many kinds of voices in the world," from the laws of the human mind in respect to the difference between "spirit" and "understanding," he has drawn materials to enlarge and vivify the presentation of his doctrine. In other connections (Romans 12:1-21.; Ephesians 4:1-32.) we find him urging substantially the same view, pressing on the conscience and heart of the Church the individuality of gifts, and, at the same time, showing their worthlessness unless blended in unity. The most truly gifted, the most nobly endowed man, is portrayed in this chapter with singular distinctness, and this man is the prophet. Yet, he adds, "forbid not to speak with tongues;" let them be regulated, not discarded—a lesson widely applicable in the management of Church affairs. A genuine orthodoxy is always tolerant, charitable, and heartily disposed to make much allowance for idiosyncrasies in others. Many persons are content with love in their hearts. Intellect is left to itself. But the really orthodox man is a Christian in his method of thinking, and in many a thing not to his liking, ay, repellent to his tastes and sensibilities he makes a special point to remember the "forbid not." The last constituent of a man to feel the thoroughly subduing grace of God is the intellect. Often when the animal nature has been conquered, often when the coarser struggles of life are all over, this besetment of dogmatic and tryannical intellect remains as the final entrenchment of evil. Orthodoxy is an admirable thing. It is beautiful and even glorious to feel the oneness of our beliefs with the greatest and best thinkers of the Church; but if truth of thought be exaggerated at the expense of truth of feeling and truth in external relations, it is truth despoiled of its supreme charm, and therefore the wisdom of the "forbid not." One who knows that be shall live for ever must needs feel, if he is a cultivated man, that a long past is not simply at his back, but is a part of himself, and that the parentage of much of the wisest and best in his soul lies in ancient years. Sympathy with the past is a foremost element in a charitable intellect. And he has also a keen fellow-feeling with forms of belief current in his own times. The sense of immortality widens his embrace of the present, and the "forbid not" is a welcomed dissuasive when he is tempted to the most disagreeable and pernicious form of vanity, viz. self insistence. Only one thing remains for the apostle to say on the topic that has elicited so much wisdom and fervour from his soul: ''Let all things be done decently and in order." And, doubtless, it commended him to the trim minded among the Corinthians as it has done ever since, that he should be so considerate of behaviour. There is an art of Christian behaviour, and St. Paul would have us make a conscience of it, and not leave it to mere taste and sentiment. It is net a distant and impracticable ideal. It is not the possibility of a few. But it is simply a cultivated sense of decency and order, and as such within the reach of all.—L.
HOMILIES BY J.R. THOMSON
1 Corinthians 14:3
The purposes of prophesying.
There was a marked difference of judgment between St. Paul and his Corinthian converts with regard to the relative value of speaking with tongues and of prophesying. The Corinthians were disposed to set too high a value upon the more brilliant and startling girt; its novelty and singularity seem to have so impressed them with admiration that, in comparison with it, gifts which appealed to sober reason sank into insignificance. Paul, however, who himself spake with tongues, maintains the superiority of the rational and moral endowment over that which surprised the sense and dazzled the imagination. He does this most successfully by exhibiting in this verse the purposes of prophesying.
I. EDIFICATION. A prophet is one who speaks from God and for God, to his fellow men. The prophets of the old covenant came before their fellow countrymen with messages which they prefaced by the declaration, "Thus saith the Lord." In the new dispensation, there seems to have been at first an order of prophets, but in addition to these there were many who upon occasion uttered forth the mind of God. Now, since human nature is dependent upon truth, upon spiritual motive, upon personal influence, for the realization of the designs of the Creator, it is dear that a true prophet is one who apprehends those designs, and seeks their accomplishment by means ordered by Divine wisdom. Character and moral life require building up, i.e. upon a divinely laid foundation, by the use of divinely provided material, so that the edifice may assume form, proportions, beauty, in consonance with the idea of the great Architect. Hence the importance given in the New Testament to that element in prophecy denominated edification. No individual can become full grown, no society can be at once progressive and secure, where this department of ministry is lacking.
II. EXHORTATION. It must never be forgotten that the communication of knowledge is not the whole of ministry; that religion is not altogether a matter of the intellect; that human life is not simply one long lesson. Man is so framed that he is bound to action, and that he needs inducements, directions, encouragement, with a view to such action as shall be acceptable to his Maker and Saviour. Especially do the young, and converts whose principles are not fully formed, whose habits are not yet established, need frequent admonition. St. Paul reminds us that this also is part of the prophetic office and ministry.
III. CONSOLATION. If the necessity of exhortation follows upon the characteristics of human nature, the necessity of consolation arises from the circumstances of human life. Stronger than human philosophy, and tenderer, the consolations of Christian prophecy are able to bind up all wounds, and to cheer all sad and downcast hearts.—T.
1 Corinthians 14:15
The two elements in devotions.
Religious exercises have always consisted mainly of praise and prayer. If there be a Deity, then from him we have received all we possess and enjoy, and to him, therefore, our natural feelings and our reason alike urge us to present sacrifices of thanksgiving. And since we are altogether dependent upon his favour and his faithfulness, we shall not omit to other supplications and intercessions to the Giver of every good gift. Now, Christianity falls in with this natural view of religious observances, and raises these orates, which are too often perfunctorily performed, into a higher atmosphere, penetrating and sanctifying them with a new spirit.