SERMON IV. THE UNKNOWN GOD.

Acts, xvii., 22, 23.

Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too superstitious. For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, To the Unknown God. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, Him declare I unto you.

The city of Athens was wholly given to idolatry. It was crowded with altars, dedicated to the supposed superior deities, to deified men, to abstract virtues, Love, Truth, Mercy, and the like. Whatever new god was described and recommended to them was immediately recognised, and thenceforth worshipped; and, besides, the Athenians’ love of something new, led them to search out for and invent gods for themselves. Hence it came to pass, that there were more idols in that one city than in all the rest of Greece: so that Satirist did not much exaggerate when he said that in Athens you might more easily find a god than a man. It belongs not to our present purpose to consider how this arose; to contemplate the strange coexistence of so much superstition and so much cultivation of intellect, or to strive to enter into the feelings which animated Paul, when his spirit was stirred within him at the sight of the city wholly given to idolatry. We pass on to the time when the Apostle stood on Mars’s hill, in sight of many heathen altars, surrounded by Epicureans and Stoics and disciples of many other schools of philosophy, some striving to silence him, others intent upon hearing something new from him—to meet the contentious gainsayings of the one, to enlist the curiosity of the other; to make use of their various dispositions, of all that he saw and heard, in promoting the glory of God, and, if it might be, in leading them to salvation.

It must be borne in mind that some of these news-seeking Athenians inconsistently enough contended with him, because he taught what was novel; while others, on that very account, were favourable to him, hoping that he would set forth some strange gods—some additional objects of worship to whom they might erect altars. “Ye men of Athens,” he said, “I perceive from actual observation that you, more than other people, have great regard for religion.” This is the right meaning of the words translated: “In all things ye are too superstitious.” It is not likely that the Apostle would have commenced a speech intended to conciliate and enlighten them, with words that would at once affront them, and make them deaf to all else he had to say. Besides, it is clear from what follows, that he is not directly calling upon them to abandon what was false, but to understand and accept rightly a truth which they held in ignorance. “I say nothing to you now upon the many gods whom you worship by name, but, pointing to an altar inscribed to the Unknown God (it was probably in sight) I answer those who contend with me for speaking about the unknown, and gratify those who want to hear something new, by taking that altar as my text, and preaching to you about ‘the Unknown God’—about no new god, for He is already the object of your worship; but still about one of whom much that is new to you may be said. Give ear to me, ye that are so full of reverence for the gods, while I describe to you an object indeed of your present reverence, but one of whose nature and operations and demands upon you, you know nothing.”

Respecting the existence of such an altar, we are told that the Athenians through the very excess of their idolatry (which led them to look for gods in every place and circumstance, and to ascribe every event, good or ill, to the influence of some deity) had on more than one occasion, when an unusually severe pestilence had visited them, which they could not connect with any of their known gods, conjectured that it must be the doing of some god whom they did not propitiate with sacrifices, and, failing to find out who it was, and yet fearing to neglect his worship, had caused altars without names to be erected, and offerings to be made to the nameless being; and that in course of time these altars came to be described, and to bear a corresponding inscription, as severally the altars of an “unknown god.” There is no reason to suppose that they meant to exalt that god above the others, that they had any clearly defined ideas of the general operations of one unknown Being, much less that they meant under that title to worship the God of the Jews; but with a kind of natural instinct, a very vague feeling that something beyond and above what they knew, existed, they had stumbled, as it were, in the dark, upon a real truth, which was now to be revealed to them. “Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship—Whom you are right in worshipping, but of Whose proper worship you know nothing, Him declare I, and reveal unto you.” You know how St. Paul went on, meeting without mentioning the errors of the various sects of philosophers, that there was indeed a God who made the world, and all things therein; that He was not a mere idol of wood and stone (“dwelling not in temples made with hands”), that He had no such passions, and no such needs as they ascribed to Jove and Mars and their deified men (“Neither is worshipped with men’s hands as though He needed anything”), that He was not a sentiment—an ideal thing—a being bound by fate—an indifferent spectator of men’s ways. “He giveth to all life and breath and all things.” “In Him we live and move and have our being.” “He hath appointed a day in the which He will judge the world in righteousness by the man whom He hath chosen;” to whom He has borne such signal testimony in raising Him from the dead; in whose name, and at whose command, I come to tell you of the resurrection from the dead, and to call you out of the ignorance which God will no longer wink at, and to urge upon you repentance and preparation for judgment. So he spoke of the unknown God. Some mocked, and refused to understand; some were in doubt and difficulty, and wished to hear more; others began to know Him who had hitherto been unknown, and clave unto the Apostle, and believed. And shortly after Paul departed from Athens, never, as far as we know, to visit again!

It would be interesting to consider the strange rise and spread of ignorance which in course of time made the God, Who had been seen and heard and walked with in Eden, and had never left Himself without witness, wholly unknown to the creatures of His hand, and the objects of His providential care; to contemplate the idolatry of ignorant heathen man, not seeing God in all His works, not able to find Him even when looking for Him and desiring to worship Him, believing in every god but the true One, sometimes even offering sacrifices to devils; to discuss, too, how it is the world by wisdom knows not, and never has known God, that intellect cannot search Him out, that intellect has even blinded many to whom the unknown God was plainly exhibited; to ask how much of this is natural, how much unnatural, how much judicial—the punishment of pride, the reward of loving darkness rather than light, because of evil deeds. But interesting as would be the consideration of “God unknown in the world,” there is a more important theme suggested by the text for us to dwell on, namely, “God unknown in the Church.” “There standeth one among you Whom ye know not.” Let me speak to you on this, brethren.

Whatever may be the state and disposition of the people whom the clergyman has to deal with in his various daily ministrations and his intercourse with the world, once a week, at least, he addresses an assembly in some sense given to religion. As he stands in the pulpit on the Lord’s Day he may adopt almost the words of St. Paul on the Areopagus: “I perceive that you (and such as you) are more than the rest of mankind God-fearing, taking an interest in religion, listening to its teaching, partaking of its ordinances, supplicating, praising, serving God.”

It may, indeed, occasionally be that some present themselves to see if there is anything in the church for them to object to, or ridicule; that others have come in conformity to the fashion, to hear something new, to see and be seen; to make a show of respectability, to wile away an idle time; and that many others, though proposing to themselves the observance of a religious duty, are so formal, so listless, so unreal, that it cannot be said of them that they are “given to religion.” Nevertheless, I repeat that the clergyman, as he stands in the pulpit, has before him the best, i.e., the most religious of mankind; not mockers, and revilers, and persecutors; not gainsayers, and despisers, and forgetters; but real worshippers—more or less reverential and earnest, more or less enlightened—of the true God. But has he not in these same persons (as St. Paul had in the Athenians) many worshippers of an unknown God? May he not venture to say to almost all, “Whom ye ignorantly worship, Him declare I unto you.” Christian worshippers, my brethren, often have many idols, who share almost equally with God their interest and affections and service. They have, many of them, their “ism,” their Paul, their Cephas, or Apollos, their favourite dogma, their preferences and prejudices for some particular rites, and ceremonies, and modes of worship. In church, and out of church, their religion consists largely in giving heed to these things: God is in their thoughts, but not in all their thoughts, or not the chief, the engrossing object of their thoughts; He is one of many objects. You find this out if you listen to their remarks after service. “Such a chant went well or badly; the preacher’s manner was pleasing, or the contrary; his language very ornate, or very bald; the theme one they like, or one they do not like; the rubric strictly observed, or strangely disregarded;” and so on. Of course, as all these things are means to an end, and as the end is gained, or not gained, by their suitableness, or the opposite, it is lawful and right to give them some consideration: but I put it to you, brethren, whether they are not too often regarded as themselves the end; as though, provided they were satisfactory, there was nothing more wanting; as though they were rightly as much the objects of interest as the God in Whose service they are used, or, rather, as though regarding them were regarding God!

O brethren, we are too attentive to the system—too regardless of the Centre! We want to know—(to feel, I mean, for the Christian’s knowledge is of the heart)—that God is above all—that where other objects have anything like an equal share of attention, where they hide Him from us in His pure essence and direct influence, there He is ignorantly worshipped—that He is a Spirit, not a chant, a voice, a figure of speech, a rubric, a turning east or west. Through these we may reach Him; many of them are steps and accessories to worship; but if in these we rest, then we set them up as idols, side by side with Him, and prove that to us He is but as the unknown god of the Athenians.

See, dear brethren, I beseech you, if aught of this old error clings to you, and pray God to clear you from it, and resolve henceforth to strive to keep clear. Treat means as means—value them; be glad that they are becomingly afforded you, and rejoice if they help you; but do not let the best of them beguile you, nor the worst of them hinder you, from finding and worshipping God Himself; from going away filled with thoughts of Him. “I prayed to God; I praised Him; I held communion with Him; I heard the things of God from His messenger, and have now to go and live by what I have done, and received, and heard.” These are the thoughts to take away from church with you, and to prove to you that you wisely worship the known God.

I have dwelt much on this part of the subject, because of the general forgetfulness of it; a forgetfulness which prevents many from rendering acceptable service to God, and from obtaining the full help and comfort which religion affords to all who rightly use it.

But there are many other kinds of ignorant worship. It is possible to cast down all idols, and worship God alone, and yet err. The so-called spiritualist does this: the man who supposes that addressing himself directly to God, is sufficient, without the use of appointed forms and ordinances; who attaches no importance to baptism and holy communion; who thinks that no grace accompanies their use, or that he can have the grace without the sign; who says that praying at home is a good substitute for congregational worship; who boasts that he can read a sermon for himself, and a better one than he can hear in church; or that the Bible is sufficiently clear to him without an interpreter.

Such an one ignorantly worships an unknown God. He dictates, instead of obeying; he chooses, instead of submitting to what is appointed for him; he puts reason in the place of faith; he refuses to walk in God’s way of salvation; he disputes the Divine wisdom in requiring him to be baptised, and to partake of the Cup and Bread of Blessing; in warning not to forsake the assembling of ourselves together; in asking, “How shall they hear without a preacher?” in appointing a standing ministry; he rebels against God, when he disregards these ordinances; he makes God a liar when he presumes to deem them unnecessary. Oh, he has great need that the God whom he ignorantly worships, should be plainly declared unto him!

Again, that man ignorantly worships God, who substitutes the forms for the life of religion; who supposes that a sanctuary service atones for all want of service elsewhere; who prays in church, but not in his closet; who hears the Bible read or expounded, but does not search it diligently for himself; who receives sacraments, but does not foster, and use, and develop the sacramental grace, which is entrusted to him as an awful talent to be increased and accounted for; who balances the religion of Sunday against the worldliness of the whole week; who every seventh day eases his conscience of its sin, by sighing out the general confession, and forthwith takes to himself the comfort of the declaration of forgiveness, and then goes back to his old transgressions and omissions, till the holy day comes round again. Of course whoever does this, or any part of it deliberately, is grossly, culpably ignorant of the God whom he professes to worship; but it is not of such that I speak now. I have in mind professing Christians, persons who busy themselves about religion, who are regular in their attendance on means of grace, who never wilfully desecrate the Lord’s day, who knowing that unpardoned sin separates from God, and that without grace, life is unblessed, are anxious for pardon and grace, and frequently seek them in God’s appointed ways; but yet, forget, are not impressed with the danger of a relapse, and the sin of non-improvement, and so somehow or other, fall into a routine of formal religion on Sunday, which is not in their thoughts, except as a matter that belongs to next Sunday all through the week. This is to worship ignorantly an unknown God—a God Who does not accept intermittent worship, Who bestows pardon only on repentance and amendment of life, Who gives grace for use, Whose sacraments are meals to sustain life and strengthen for service, Whose Sabbath is a holy rest to refresh for holy work, in Whom we live, and move, and have our being, Whose glory is to be our constant aim, His presence our perpetual joy. But these, and many other ignorances—such as the disregard of particular attributes, the picturing for oneself what God ought to be like, and so varying the picture according to the fancy of him who draws it, instead of searching how, and what manner of God He has declared Himself to be, and what worship is appointed, and therefore acceptable—these, I say, are the faults of individuals, or of certain classes only. Let me now speak of an ignorance, a respect in which God is more or less unknown, which concerns us all. And here, dear brethren, my object is not to censure, to blame you for what you have not, but pointing out to you the God whom Scripture reveals, to help you to correct what is amiss, to fill up what is wanting in your conceptions of God, and so to attain to the blessedness of knowing Him fully, and to discharge the duty of worshipping Him in spirit and in truth.

Observe St. Paul, while acknowledging the religious reverence of the Athenians, evidently deals with them as men who understood not the truths, the objects, the blessings of religion; as those who when they had built their altars, and celebrated their holy days, and offered their sacrifices, thought they had fulfilled all that religion required of them, and who expected to get nothing by their religion, but exemption from certain grievous pestilences, or help perhaps in war—mere occasional miraculous manifestations of dreadful power—who had no conceptions of sanctifying influence, of moral responsibility, of rewards of righteousness. To them he declares God to be, One not far from them, One whom they might find, in Whom they then lived and moved, and had their being, Who henceforth would not wink at any ignorance, Who was at present treating them, and regarding them with a view to a coming judgment. Now we are better (thank God, who maketh us to differ!) than these Athenians; but still we want somewhat of the heart-knowledge which Paul would have impressed on them. We want to be more fully convinced that religion is not a pastime, but a business; that not only duty, but interest, momentous interest, is involved in it, especially that it is not a mere concern and preparation and provision for the future, but a present substantial reality; that God is not the object of distant worship; that His wrath and His mercy are, not rarely, but constantly, being exercised here; that He is not a departed Lord, Who has set us to do His work against His return, and will take no account of us till some far off day; that He has not left us unrewarded, unpunished, unhelped in the present, not caring what we are, what we do, what we suffer, so as when He comes back, we have either done what He appointed, or have assumed the position of penitents for offence, and supplicants of compassion.

Is it not matter of experience that we are not sufficiently influenced by the hopes and fears of religion, that we do not adequately reverence God, or seek Him, and rest on Him, because we suppose that He is afar off, and that all that we have to expect from Him, will only begin to be realised in the next world? God, as a present God, is too much unknown to us. We do not feel that He is now about us; that His eye is watching us, and His arm upraised over each of us at every moment of our lives; that He is a guest actually in us, to be honoured and waited on now. We do not know of His present closeness, of His immediate rewards and punishments, His pleasure or displeasure, His instant succour, or instant withdrawal from us, according to what He sees in us. We do all, and bear all in distant expectation, and therefore we do negligently, and bear feebly and impatiently. Could we realise the perpetual working, the instant retribution, the very touching of God now, it would be easy to regard and serve Him, it would be all but impossible to neglect Him. No man could prefer dross to gold, misery to bliss, death to life, if they were both offered him at the same moment. No one could hesitate whom to obey, whom to trust, whom to fear, whom to love, if God were seen on the one side, and fellow man on the other. It is because God, and the things of God, are supposed to be far off, that we first prefer the other, and then practically regard it as that which alone has real existence.

Well, then, this is what we have to mend. I have been urging the mending on these Sundays in Advent, in striving to show you that there is a God present to superintend, and provide, and care for you in this life, and in every event and moment of this life; that there is an actual and immediate judgment of every deed, good and evil, and that there is a present business of religion, and a direct service of God to be now attended to. It is not head-knowledge that you want, but heart-perception, and realisation. You want to feel what you must know (because the Bible has told you that God is a God at hand, and not a God afar off); that godliness has the promise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to come; that the irreligious is condemned already. No expectation, no delay, no vision. All fulfilled, immediate, and substantially real. You fancy, perhaps, that it cannot be so. You urge that it is contrary to your experience; you have served God, and not been rewarded; you have trusted in Him, and not been supported; you have sinned against Him, and not been punished. Brethren, believe me, you have not. “Experience” means that which has been ascertained by trial. Make trial, and all will be proved. Devote yourselves now to God, follow Him, give up for Him to-day, and you shall be rewarded to-day. Sin against Him to-day, and you shall be punished to-day. Invoke His aid to-day, and you shall surely have it. Do not prescribe your own mode of visitation. Be sure that He will use His, and watch for it, and seek to know it, and then you will have an experience to quote. I only repeat to you what He has said. When you know Him, you will find that He is true. Then wait on Him, acquaint yourselves with Him, serve Him in the present, and look for Him in the present, and you will find Him in the present.