OUR first Psalm at Evening Prayer today (Psalm 142) exhorts us to bring our troubles and sorrows to God’s throne.

Psalm 142:1-2

James Ussher (1581-1656), Archbishop of Armagh, rightly understood that Evensong corresponds to the evening sacrifice of the Temple, and so he cast our prayers in terms of pleading Christ’s sacrifice before heaven, offering our remembrance of his death like calves upon the altar.

AS soon as I apprehend my need, and see the golden sceptre stretched out, then I come with might and main with Christ in my arms, and present him to the Father, and this is the approaching and drawing near in the text, to the throne of grace.

But now when I am come thither, what do I say there? What, shall I come and say nothing? The prodigal son resolved to go to his father, and say, “I will up and go,” there is the will; “and say,” there is his speech (see Lk 15:11-32).

The believer is not like to the son that said to his father, I will go, but went not; and when his father bids him come, he will come; he will not only say so, but will draw near, and then he hath a promise: “He that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out” (Jn 6:37).

But when we come thither, what must we do? why we must take unto ourselves words, according to the prophet’s expression: “Take unto you words, and go unto the Lord, and say, Take away all our iniquities, and receive us graciously, so will we render the calves of our lips” (Hos 14:2; cf. Heb 9:11-12).

When he comes to the throne of grace, the thing that he doth, is, he presents unto the Father Christ, bleeding, gasping, dying, buried, and conquering death; and when he presents Christ to him, he opens his case, and confesses his sin to the full, and says, Lord, this is my case. [...]

A beggar’s need will make him speak, and he will not hide his sores; but if he hath any sore more ugly or worse than another, he will uncover it; Good sir, behold my woful and distressed case, he lays all open to provoke pity.

So, when thou comest before God in confession, canst thou not find out words to open thyself to Almighty God, not one word whereby thou mayest unlap thy sores, and beseech him to look on thee with an eye of pity? I must not mince my sins, but amplify and aggravate them, that God may be moved to pardon me; till we do thus, we cannot expect that God should forgive us.

Works, Vol. XIII (Sermons). Sermon XIV

See more by Archbishop Ussher.

John Bird Sumner (1780-1862)

THE Gospel reading this week (The Eighth Sunday After Trinity) is a warning against “false prophets” (Mt 7:15-21).

BEWARE of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them by their fruits.

Writing about this passage, John Bird Sumner (1780-1862), Archbishop of Canterbury, reminded us that it is only wisdom from above that will bear good fruit in our lives.

THEY come in sheep’s clothing. They profess that they seek the welfare of the flock, and that the welfare of the flock depends solely on themselves.

But inwardly they are ravening wolves; “not sparing the flock;” (Acts 20:29) “teachers of what they ought not, for filthy lucre’s sake;” (Tit 1:11) “through covetousness by feigned words, making merchandize of others.” (2 Pet 2:3)

They “say, Peace, peace; when there is no peace:” (Jer 6:14) or they make “the heart of the righteous sad, which God has not made sad.” (Ezek 13:22) In various ways they “subvert the hearers,” (2 Tim 2:14) whom they are bound to establish in the faith of Christ.

There is a rule, however, by which these and any other false teachers may be discerned. Ye shall know them by their fruits. The great purpose of our Lord’s coming, was to “redeem men from all iniquity, and to purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.” (Tit 2:14)

Every teacher that does not exhibit that character in himself, and study to produce it in others, is a false teacher.

Every doctrine which does not tend to promote individual righteousness and holiness, is false doctrine.

Therefore by their fruits ye shall know them. Grapes may as reasonably be expected from thorns, as a good life from unsound doctrine; figs may as well be sought from thistles, as the work of an effective ministry from a corrupt teacher.

“He that winneth souls,” (Prov 11:30) must himself be first won by “the wisdom which is from above.” (Jas 3:17)

A Practical Exposition Of The Gospels Of St Matthew And St Mark. Lecture XVI.

Margaret Thatcher (1925-)

ROWAN Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury, has once again criticised Margaret Thatcher’s statement that “there’s no such thing as society” (Telegraph).

It is, of course, fully twenty years since Mrs Thatcher was in power. Thirteen of those years have been under a socialist government.

By any measure, society is less free, cohesive and equitable, and significantly less Christian, than ever.

Yet Dr Williams repeatedly comes back to Mrs Thatcher’s famous line. This time, he even called it “toxic”.

What Mrs Thatcher actually said, in an interview with lifestyle magazine Woman’s Own in 1987, was this:

IF children have a problem, [people say] it is “society” that is at fault. There is no such thing as “society”. There is [a] living tapestry of men and women and people, and the beauty of that tapestry, and the quality of our lives, will depend upon how much each of us is prepared to take responsibility for ourselves, and each of us prepared to turn round and help, by our own efforts, those who are unfortunate.

Visit The Margaret Thatcher Foundation for the full text.

Now, if this is “toxic”, the New Testament is toxic, because this is exactly what it teaches.

Dr Williams asserted, apparently unware of how cold and manufactured it sounds, that “The role of government is building connections between people and communities and making them work”.

The governments in both Jerusalem and Rome loudly claimed to do just that, yet not one single verse in the New Testament looks to them to perform or even facilitate this role. Indeed, St Paul warned the Christians of Thessalonica against being taken in by Rome’s “peace and security” propaganda (1 Thess 5:3).

In passage after passage, “building connections” and providing for the less fortunate was the task of unregulated, private Christian individuals, families, and above all parishes.

They did not need, ask, or expect help of the Emperor – they knew what a price he would extort in return.

POSSIBLY it may seem a good reason to some, for their own neglect of the poor, that the law makes provision for them.

And it is certainly an honour to the law, that it doth: but no honour to us, that it needs do it.

Besides, there are very many cases of great distress, to which legal provision is neither easily nor properly extended: nor can it give by any means so plentiful relief, as should be given to the greater part of those, to whom it may extend.

But suppose the law capable of doing every thing that needs be done: what would be the consequence of leaving every thing to it? That we should lose intirely the means, which now we have, of proving to the world, and to ourselves, the goodness of our own hearts; and of making an undoubted free-will offering to God, out of what he hath given us.

Thomas Secker (1693-1768), Archbishop of Canterbury.
Sermon IV. Preached in the Parish Church of St Bridget, London, Monday in Easter Week, 1738.

The Revd Sydney Smith (1771-1845)

THINK not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword.

THE Revd Sydney Smith (1771-1845), who divided his time as a backwoods parson between conscientious attention to his doting parishioners and extolling the virtues of tea, interpreted these words from our reading at Evensong today (Mt 10:24-42) in terms of our call to the communion of saints.

When the politics of his day turned against him and he was overlooked for his promised Bishopric, he took the disappointment with all the fortitude this passage recommends.

WE are between two cities — the one visible, the other invisible — the one an object of sense, the other of faith — the one garish, splendid, and tumultuous, the other calm, glorious, and serene. On the one side, the world, and this earthly life, with its fair show, luring gifts, bright promises, gilded ambition; on the other, the city of God, the fellowship of saints, the sympathy of Christ, the love of the Father, the Beatific Vision.

Choose one you must. Either you must have a life — not sinful, or gross, or reckless, or profane — of these we are not speaking — but in this world, and of this world, loved by it, courted, followed, endowed, gifted, smooth, and fair, without sharpness or cross, without contradiction or shame, without devotion or self-denial, without saintliness or repentance: or you must have a life of striving and suffering, of temptation and weariness, of faith and faintness, of hope and fear, of longing and waiting, of anxious desires and slow tarrying answers; bearing the weight of a conscious immortality, with sins remembered in the conscience, and intentions pent up in the heart.

One of these two you must choose to be your own. Either in this world “to have your reward,” or to have your “life hid with Christ in God.” For He has said, “I came not to send peace upon earth, but a sword”, and with that sharp two-edged weapon He is severing His own from this perishing world.

He has been cutting all round you to set you free by His ministries of truth and grace, by warnings and chastisements, by blessings and visitations, by His words piercing the outward ear, and His presence moving your inward heart.

Look back upon your past life. Retrospect will interpret it as a whole, and marshal all its parts in order. Through all your earthly trial He has had one stedfast intention, to bring you to Himself.

Sermons Preached In St Paul’s. Sermon XVIII: The Communion Of Saints.

The Church of St Nicholas, Steventon, in Hampshire. This was Jane Austen's church. © David Marten, Geograph. Used under Licence.

TODAY is the anniversary of the death of Jane Austen (1775-1817), who is the unofficial Patroness of Comfortable Words.

The following extract from Mansfield Park really speaks for itself. Aggressively secular Mary Crawford has just learnt with dismay that Edmund Bertram is to be a clergyman.

“FOR what is to be done in the church? Men love to distinguish themselves, and in any of the other lines distinction may be gained, but not in the church. A clergyman is nothing.”

Edmund’s protest that the Church “has the guardianship of religion and morals, and consequently of the manners which result from their influence” is met with incredulity.

“YOU assign greater consequence to the clergyman than one has been used to hear given, or than I can quite comprehend. One does not see much of this influence and importance in society, and how can it be acquired where they are so seldom seen themselves? How can two sermons a week, even supposing them worth hearing, supposing the preacher to have the sense to prefer Blair’s to his own, do all that you speak of? govern the conduct and fashion, the manners of a large congregation for the rest of the week? One scarcely sees a clergyman out of his pulpit.”

“You are speaking of London, I am speaking of the nation at large.”

“The metropolis, I imagine, is a pretty fair sample of the rest.”

“Not, I should hope, of the proportion of virtue to vice throughout the kingdom. We do not look in great cities for our best morality. It is not there that respectable people of any denomination can do most good; and it certainly is not there that the influence of the clergy can be most felt.

A fine preacher is followed and admired; but it is not in fine preaching only that a good clergyman will be useful in his parish and his neighbourhood, where the parish and neighbourhood are of a size capable of knowing his private character, and observing his general conduct, which in London can rarely be the case. The clergy are lost there in the crowds of their parishioners. They are known to the largest part only as preachers.

And with regard to their influencing public manners, Miss Crawford must not misunderstand me, or suppose I mean to call them the arbiters of good breeding, the regulators of refinement and courtesy, the masters of the ceremonies of life – The manners I speak of might rather be called conduct, perhaps, the result of good principles; the effect, in short, of those doctrines which it is their duty to teach and recommend; and it will, I believe, be everywhere found, that as the clergy are, or are not what they ought to be, so are the rest of the nation.”

Mansfield Park (1814).

Hugh Blair (1718-1800) was a senior clergyman in the Church of Scotland, and a renowned preacher. See extracts.

The Revd Dr John Wesley (1703-1791)

IN our Gospel this week (The Sixth Sunday After Trinity), Jesus cautions us “Except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5:20-26).

SEE, first, that thy righteousness fall not short of the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees. Be not thou as other men are (Lk 18:11)! Dare to stand alone; to be, “against example, singularly good.” If thou follow a multitude at all, it must be to do evil (Lk 17:23). Let not custom or fashion be thy guide; but reason, and religion. The practice of others is nothing to thee: “every man must give an account of himself to God” (Rom 14:12). …

Secondly: let not thy righteousness fall short of theirs, with regard to the ordinances of God. If thy labour or bodily strength will not allow of thy fasting twice in the week, however deal faithfully with thy own soul, and fast as often as thy strength will permit. Omit no public, no private opportunity of pouring out thy soul in prayer. Neglect no occasion of eating that bread and drinking that cup, which is the communion of the body and blood of Christ.

Be diligent in searching the Scriptures; read, as thou mayest, and meditate therein day and night. Rejoice to embrace every opportunity of hearing “the word of reconciliation” declared by the “ambassadors of Christ” (2 Cor 5:20), the “stewards of the mysteries of God” (1 Cor 4:1).

In using all the means of grace, in a constant and careful attendance on every ordinance of God, live up to (at least till thou canst go beyond) “the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees.”

Thirdly: fall not short of a Pharisee in doing good. Give alms of all thou dost possess (Lk 11:41). Is any hungry? Feed him. Is he athirst? Give him drink. Naked? Cover him with a garment (Mt 25:31-46). If thou hast this world’s goods, do not limit thy beneficence to a scanty proportion. Be merciful to the uttermost of thy power. …

BUT rest not here. Let thy righteousness “exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees.” Be not thou content to “keep the whole law, and offend in one point” (Jas 2:10). Hold thou fast all his commandments, and “all false ways do thou utterly abhor” (Ps 119:128 [Coverdale]). Do all the things, whatsoever he hath commanded, and that with all thy might. Thou canst do all things through Christ strengthening thee (Phil 4:13); though without him thou canst do nothing (Jn 15:5).

Above all, let thy righteousness exceed theirs in the purity and spirituality of it. What is the exactest form of religion to thee? The most perfect outside righteousness? Go thou higher and deeper than all this! Let thy religion be the religion of the heart.

Sixth Discourse On The Sermon On The Mount (Sermon XXVI)

See more by John Wesley.

OUR morning Psalms today include the enduring favourite, Psalm 51 Miserere Mei.

SUPPOSE that a sinner, convinced of the evil and wretchedness of his past sin, desires to be reinstated in the favour of God. His will or desire will first show itself in the lifting up of his soul to God through Jesus Christ.

If he knows in the least degree the meaning of the Catholic Faith, he will plead the merits of the Death of Jesus Christ. If he is further and better instructed in that Creed or Faith, he will plead also the gracious design and intention of God as manifested in the Resurrection and present Intercession of the same Jesus.

Now no Catholic pastor or instructor or preacher that I ever heard of would dream of saying to a soul in this state, “Before you thus attempt to lay hold on God’s mercy, you must have spent so many hours in public or private prayer, or you must have given away so much money in alms, or you must have fasted so often or so long.”

Neither would any Catholic instructor that I ever heard of say to any penitent, “Before you come to God through Christ for cleansing, you must first have made yourself clean: before you venture to seek holiness from Him, you must have made yourself holy.”

If any penitent were to ask his pastor for words wherewith to come, the pastor, whilst he assured him that no form could be really adequate — that he must use his own words as the expression of his own thoughts or sins — would, in all human probability, direct him to such Psalms as the thirty-eighth or the fifty-first, in which it is hard to say which is the most prominent, the self-abasement or the trust in God’s mercy.

This, then, is all that the sinner can bring: renunciation of self — evil, proud, self-satisfied self — and belief in God as forgiving sin. I do not now speak of the way in which God will meet the sinner; that we shall consider presently. I speak of what the sinner can do; and the sinner, as such, can only go out of himself, as it were, to meet the loving advance of the God Who is drawing him, and this is the exercise of “faith.”

Michael Ferrebee Sadler (1819-1895). Justification Of Life

THE setting of Psalm 51 on this page is by Josquin Desprez (1450-1521). It is divided here into two parts, Part 1 above, and Part 2 to the left.

While the setting by Gregorio Allegri (1582-1652) is much better known, this one and another by William Byrd (?1543-1623) both deserve appreciation too.

You can listen to Allegri and Byrd on YouTube.

Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)

IN this week’s Epistle (1 Pet 3:8-15), St Peter implores,

BE ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous … He that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak no guile: Let him eschew evil, and do good; let him seek peace, and ensue it.

Jane Austen (1775-1817) would have been saddened at the way common courtesy has become almost a forgotten virtue now.

She was only too anxious to praise Sir William Lucas for it in Pride And Prejudice. Faced with the cringe-worthy incivility of teenage Lydia and her sisters, Sir William’s “good breeding carried him through it all” Jane tells us admiringly; “he listened to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy”.

Jane’s favourite, Dr Samuel Johnson (1709-1784), shared her feelings. “Harsh strictness and sour virtue” actually discredits our evangelical witness: gracious courtesy under any provocation is an appealing sign of inner strength – and of the brotherly love which Christ himself commands.

THAT a precept of courtesy is by no means unworthy of the gravity and dignity of an apostolical mandate, may be gathered from the pernicious effects which all must have observed to have arisen from harsh strictness and sour virtue; such as refuses to mingle in harmless gaiety, or give countenance to innocent amusements, or which transacts the petty business of the day with a gloomy ferociousness that clouds existence.

Goodness of this character is more formidable than lovely; it may drive away vice from its presence, but will never persuade it to stay to be amended; it may teach, it may remonstrate, but the hearer will seek for more mild instruction.

To those, therefore, by whose conversation the heathens were to be drawn away from errour and wickedness, it is the apostle’s precept, that they be courteous, that they accommodate themselves, as far as innocence allows, to the will of others; that they should practise all the established modes of civility, seize all occasions of cultivating kindness, and live with the rest of the world with an amicable reciprocation of cursory civility, that Christianity might not be accused of making men less cheerful as companions, less sociable as neighbours, or less useful as friends.

Such is the system of domestick virtue which the apostle recommends. His words are few, but their meaning is sufficient to fill the greater part of the circle of life.

Let us remember to be all of one mind, so as to grieve and rejoice together; to confirm, by constant benevolence, that brotherhood which creation and redemption have constituted!

Let us commiserate and relieve affliction, and endear ourselves by general gentleness and affability: it will from hence soon appear how much goodness is to be loved, and how much human nature is meliorated by religion.

Sermon XI, On 1 Peter 3:8.

See more by Samuel Johnson.

Bishop Joseph Barber Lightfoot (1828-1889)

THIS week’s Gospel reading (for The Fifth Sunday After Trinity) is the calling of St Peter (Lk 5:1-11).

After the miraculous catch of fish, Peter exclaims in alarm,

DEPART from me; for I am a sinful man, Lord. (Lk 5:8)

In his Cuddesdon Addresses To Clergy, Joseph Barber Lightfoot (1828-1889), the well-known Biblical scholar and conscientious Bishop of Durham, linked Peter’s words to Jesus here with his words later in Christ’s ministry, when so many disciples took offence at his preaching about the Eucharist.

LORD, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. (Jn 6:68)

Bishop Lightfoot wrote:

“DEPART from me, O Lord.” This fear of the Lord is indeed the beginning of wisdom. This consciousness of sin is the straight pathway to heaven. The saintliest of men have ever spoken and felt most strongly of their own sinfulness.

The intensity of their language has provoked the sneers of the worldling. Has he not evidence here, on their own confession, that, despite all their pretensions to holiness, they are no better than he?

But they know, and he does not know, what sin means, for they know what God means. And therefore the despairing cry is wrung from their agony, “Depart from me, O Lord.”

“Depart from me;” and yet not so, O Lord. Even while Peter is speaking, his gestures belie his words. His lips implore Jesus despairingly to depart, but his eyes and his hands entreat Him to stay. Not so, Lord: for how can I endure to part from Thee? In Thy presence only is comfort, is strength, is hope, is light, is life.

“Depart from me?” Nay; it is for the godless to say, “Depart from us; for we desire not the knowledge of God.” It is for the unclean spirits to rave against Thee, “Let us alone, Thou Jesus of Nazareth, what have we to do with Thee?” But I, I have everything to do with Thee. I am created in the image of God. I have a ray of the Divine Light, a seed of the Divine Word, within me. And like seeks like.

Therefore I yearn after Thee; therefore I am drawn towards Thee; therefore I stretch out my hands to Thee over this wide chasm of sin which yawns between us. “Lord, to whom else shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.”

Ordination Addresses And Counsels To Clergy (1890). Cuddesdon Addresses No. II.

See more original extracts for The Fifth Sunday After Trinity, and by Bishop Lightfoot.

The Revd Mark Frank (1613-1664)

In our Collect for St Peter’s day, we pray for the clergy who feed Christ’s flock.

O ALMIGHTY God, who by thy Son Jesus Christ didst give to thy Apostle Saint Peter many excellent gifts, and commandest him earnestly to feed thy flock; Make, we beseech thee, all Bishops and Pastors diligently to preach thy holy Word, and the people obediently to follow the same, that they may receive the crown of everlasting glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

When Peter was first called by Jesus, he was a fisherman struggling with his catch. Jesus bade Peter make another effort; Peter was obliging towards this new charismatic teacher, but not confident.

MASTER, we have toiled all the night and have taken nothing: nevertheless at thy word I will let down the net. (Lk 5:5).

Mark Frank (1613-1664) drew much comfort for orthodox clergy from this story on St Peter’s day.

IN his name you cannot miscarry at the last, your net will come at length full fraught with grace and glory. You see the very Apostles of Christ are in the like condition: many nights and days toil and labour brings them nothing home, yet they still fish again, and so must we, if at last we may gain but one poor soul into the net of the kingdom, nay though but save our own.

And if none but that, yet we must let down the net for more, not despair of more; there may come more at length: we must preach, and you must hear, again and again, “line upon line, line upon line, here a little and there a little,” cast on this side, cast on that, in season and out, night and day “with all patience and long suffering” as the Apostle speaks, if so be at last that Jesus will deign to come unto us, that he will vouchsafe to speak effectually to his servants, and make them hear, that he will please to stand by and call the fish into the net.

“Master, we have now at thy word let down the net,” Oh speak the word only and thy servants shall hear thee and hasten to thee, and obey thee, and be wholly taken by thee. Our labours are vain without thy blessing, nothing in them but weariness and toil; have mercy upon this our sad and uncomfortable condition, and relieve us, both the fishers and the fish, and lift us up out of this sea of misery, this depth of iniquity, catch us all together in thy net, and us unto thyself into thy kingdom, where there is no more toil or labour, no more night at all, no more tempestuous seas or weather, where we are sure to catch that which is above all our labours, all our toil — a full and sufficient recompense for them all, the overfull, infinite and unspeakable rewards of eternal glory.

Sermon XLVI. The Second Sermon On The Calling Of Peter.