Post by Shepherd on Nov 14, 2008 9:45:04 GMT -6
65 WHAT IS YOUR LIFE
JAMES 4:14...FOR WHAT IS YOUR LIFE...
When a prince dies they toll the great bell of the cathedral that all the city may hear it, and that for miles round the tidings may spread. Swift messengers of the press bear the news through the length and breath of the land, and all men’s ears are made to tingle.
The Lord’s voice crieth unto the city, let believers be quick to hear the call to humiliation, to awakening, and to prayer, that the visitation may be overruled for great and lasting good. A sudden death is a specially impressive warning.
In a moment our strength is turned to weakness, and our comeliness into corruption.
Now, upon this matter we have nothing to say but what is common-place, for, garnish them as you may, graves are among the commonest of common things. Yet a solemn reflection upon the shortness of life, and the certainty of death, may prove to be important, and even invaluable, if it be allowed to penetrate our hearts, and influence our lives.
History tells us of Peter Waldo, of Lyons, who was sitting at a banquet as thoughtless and careless as any of the revellers (wild party), when suddenly one at the table bowed his head and died. Waldo was startled into thought, and went home to seek his God; he searched the Scriptures, and, according to some, became a great helper, if not the second founder, of the waldensian church, which in the alpine valleys kept the lamp of the gospel burning when all round was veiled in night. A whole church of God was, thus strengthened and perpetuated by the hollowed
influence of death upon a single mind.
I suppose it is also true that Luther in His younger days, walking with his friend Alexis, saw him struck to the ground by a flash of lightning, and became thence forward prepared in heart for that deep work of grace through which he learned the doctrine of justification by faith, and rose to be the liberator of Europe from Popal bandage.
How much every way we owe to this weighty subject. May a prince’s death awaken many of you to life. he being dead now speaks to you; form yonder sunny shores he reminds you of the valley of death-shade which you must shortly traverse.
I. THE NEXT BEGINS BY REMINDING US THAT WE HAVE NO FORESIGHT—WHEREAS YE KNOW NOT WHAT SHALL BE ON THE MORROW.
What is your life? IT IS EVEN A VAPOUR, THAT APPEARETH FOR A LITTLE TIME, AND THEN VANISHETH AWAY.
First, I say, we have here an emphatic question; he asked, WHAT IS YOUR LIFE. for solidity for stability; what is it; is it not composed of such stuff as dreams are made of? Your own breath is a fair picture of the flimsy, airy thing which men call life. what is your life? What is it for continuance? Some things last awhile, and run down the centuries; but what is your life. Even garments bear some little wear and tear; but what is your life. A delicate texture; no cobweb is a tithe as frail. It will fail before a touch, a breath.
Justinion, an emperor of Rome, died by going into a room which had been newly painted. Adrian, a pope, was strangled by a fly. A Consul struck his foot against his own threshold, and his foot mortified, so that he died thereby.
There are a thousand gates to death; and, though some seem to be narrow wickets, many souls have passed through them. Men have been choked by a grape stone or seed, killed by a tile falling from the roof of a house, poisoned by a drop, carried off by a whiff of foul air.
I know not what there is that is too little to slay the greatest king. It is a marvel that man lives at all. So unstable is our life that the apostle says, what is it? So frail, so fragile is it, that he does not call it a flower of the field, or the snuff of a candle, but Asks, what is our life? It is as if he had said–Is it anything? Is it not a near approach to nothing.
St. Augustine used to say he did not know whether to call it a dying life or a living death, and I leave you the choice between these two expressions.
This is certainly a dying life; its march is marked by graves. Nothing but a continuous miracle keeps any one of us from the sepulchre. Were omnipotence to stray its power but for a moment, earth would return to earth, an ashes to ashes.
It is a dying life; and equally true is it that it is a living death. We are always dying.
Every beating pulse we tell leaves but the number less; the more years we count it our life, the fewer remains in which we shall behold the light of day.
From child hood to youth, form youth to manhood, from manhood to grey old age we march onward in serried ranks from which no man can retire. We tarry not even when we sleep; we are continually moving forward like the waters of yonder river, on whose banks we find a habitation. What is our life? That is a question which remains to a large degree unanswered and unanswerable.
Yet our text affords us what is in some aspects an instructive answer. It does not so much tell us what life actually is as what it is like. It is even a vapour. James compares our life, you see, to a very subtle, unsubstantial, flimsy thing—a vapour. In a little while it will be gone. Such is your life. IT IS EVEN A VAPOUR, THAT APPEARETH. The vapour that steams from your mouth, how light, next door to nothing. Further, the apostle says, IT APPEARETH FOR A LITTLE TIME. We appeareth to day and tomorrow gone. The parallel is further consummated by the apostle’s adding AND THEN VANISHETH AWAY. We shall soon be gone; gone as a dream when one awaketh.
II. THE LESSONS WHICH LIE WITHIN THIS TRUTH.
First, if this life be unsubstantial as a vapour–and nobody can deny the fact–let us regard it as such, and let us seek for something substantial elsewhere. This is a poor withering life at the best, for we all so fade as a leaf.
Next, is life most uncertain? We know it is; its is certain that life will come to an end; but it is most uncertain when it will come to that end. Is ti so uncertain? Then let us not delay. Since death is hastening, haste your self until you have found a refuge in the cleft of the rock of ages, and art sage in the arms of Jesus.
Since life is so uncertain, haste the, Christian, to serve your God while the opportunity is given thee. Is life so short? Does it only appear for a little time, and then vanish away? Then let us put all we can into it.
Is life so short? Then do not let us make any very great provision for it. How many load themselves as if life’s journey would last a thousand years, at the least. Is time so short? Then do not let us fret about its troubles and discomforts. A man is on a journey, and puts up at an inn, and when he is fairly in the hostelry, he perceives that it is a poor place, with scant food, and a hard bed. And he says, I am off the first thing tomorrow morning, and so it does not matter.
Must life vanish away? We know it must. What then? That vanishing is the end of one life and the beginning of another. To the Christian it is an angel beckoning him onward and upward.
JAMES 4:14...FOR WHAT IS YOUR LIFE...
When a prince dies they toll the great bell of the cathedral that all the city may hear it, and that for miles round the tidings may spread. Swift messengers of the press bear the news through the length and breath of the land, and all men’s ears are made to tingle.
The Lord’s voice crieth unto the city, let believers be quick to hear the call to humiliation, to awakening, and to prayer, that the visitation may be overruled for great and lasting good. A sudden death is a specially impressive warning.
In a moment our strength is turned to weakness, and our comeliness into corruption.
Now, upon this matter we have nothing to say but what is common-place, for, garnish them as you may, graves are among the commonest of common things. Yet a solemn reflection upon the shortness of life, and the certainty of death, may prove to be important, and even invaluable, if it be allowed to penetrate our hearts, and influence our lives.
History tells us of Peter Waldo, of Lyons, who was sitting at a banquet as thoughtless and careless as any of the revellers (wild party), when suddenly one at the table bowed his head and died. Waldo was startled into thought, and went home to seek his God; he searched the Scriptures, and, according to some, became a great helper, if not the second founder, of the waldensian church, which in the alpine valleys kept the lamp of the gospel burning when all round was veiled in night. A whole church of God was, thus strengthened and perpetuated by the hollowed
influence of death upon a single mind.
I suppose it is also true that Luther in His younger days, walking with his friend Alexis, saw him struck to the ground by a flash of lightning, and became thence forward prepared in heart for that deep work of grace through which he learned the doctrine of justification by faith, and rose to be the liberator of Europe from Popal bandage.
How much every way we owe to this weighty subject. May a prince’s death awaken many of you to life. he being dead now speaks to you; form yonder sunny shores he reminds you of the valley of death-shade which you must shortly traverse.
I. THE NEXT BEGINS BY REMINDING US THAT WE HAVE NO FORESIGHT—WHEREAS YE KNOW NOT WHAT SHALL BE ON THE MORROW.
What is your life? IT IS EVEN A VAPOUR, THAT APPEARETH FOR A LITTLE TIME, AND THEN VANISHETH AWAY.
First, I say, we have here an emphatic question; he asked, WHAT IS YOUR LIFE. for solidity for stability; what is it; is it not composed of such stuff as dreams are made of? Your own breath is a fair picture of the flimsy, airy thing which men call life. what is your life? What is it for continuance? Some things last awhile, and run down the centuries; but what is your life. Even garments bear some little wear and tear; but what is your life. A delicate texture; no cobweb is a tithe as frail. It will fail before a touch, a breath.
Justinion, an emperor of Rome, died by going into a room which had been newly painted. Adrian, a pope, was strangled by a fly. A Consul struck his foot against his own threshold, and his foot mortified, so that he died thereby.
There are a thousand gates to death; and, though some seem to be narrow wickets, many souls have passed through them. Men have been choked by a grape stone or seed, killed by a tile falling from the roof of a house, poisoned by a drop, carried off by a whiff of foul air.
I know not what there is that is too little to slay the greatest king. It is a marvel that man lives at all. So unstable is our life that the apostle says, what is it? So frail, so fragile is it, that he does not call it a flower of the field, or the snuff of a candle, but Asks, what is our life? It is as if he had said–Is it anything? Is it not a near approach to nothing.
St. Augustine used to say he did not know whether to call it a dying life or a living death, and I leave you the choice between these two expressions.
This is certainly a dying life; its march is marked by graves. Nothing but a continuous miracle keeps any one of us from the sepulchre. Were omnipotence to stray its power but for a moment, earth would return to earth, an ashes to ashes.
It is a dying life; and equally true is it that it is a living death. We are always dying.
Every beating pulse we tell leaves but the number less; the more years we count it our life, the fewer remains in which we shall behold the light of day.
From child hood to youth, form youth to manhood, from manhood to grey old age we march onward in serried ranks from which no man can retire. We tarry not even when we sleep; we are continually moving forward like the waters of yonder river, on whose banks we find a habitation. What is our life? That is a question which remains to a large degree unanswered and unanswerable.
Yet our text affords us what is in some aspects an instructive answer. It does not so much tell us what life actually is as what it is like. It is even a vapour. James compares our life, you see, to a very subtle, unsubstantial, flimsy thing—a vapour. In a little while it will be gone. Such is your life. IT IS EVEN A VAPOUR, THAT APPEARETH. The vapour that steams from your mouth, how light, next door to nothing. Further, the apostle says, IT APPEARETH FOR A LITTLE TIME. We appeareth to day and tomorrow gone. The parallel is further consummated by the apostle’s adding AND THEN VANISHETH AWAY. We shall soon be gone; gone as a dream when one awaketh.
II. THE LESSONS WHICH LIE WITHIN THIS TRUTH.
First, if this life be unsubstantial as a vapour–and nobody can deny the fact–let us regard it as such, and let us seek for something substantial elsewhere. This is a poor withering life at the best, for we all so fade as a leaf.
Next, is life most uncertain? We know it is; its is certain that life will come to an end; but it is most uncertain when it will come to that end. Is ti so uncertain? Then let us not delay. Since death is hastening, haste your self until you have found a refuge in the cleft of the rock of ages, and art sage in the arms of Jesus.
Since life is so uncertain, haste the, Christian, to serve your God while the opportunity is given thee. Is life so short? Does it only appear for a little time, and then vanish away? Then let us put all we can into it.
Is life so short? Then do not let us make any very great provision for it. How many load themselves as if life’s journey would last a thousand years, at the least. Is time so short? Then do not let us fret about its troubles and discomforts. A man is on a journey, and puts up at an inn, and when he is fairly in the hostelry, he perceives that it is a poor place, with scant food, and a hard bed. And he says, I am off the first thing tomorrow morning, and so it does not matter.
Must life vanish away? We know it must. What then? That vanishing is the end of one life and the beginning of another. To the Christian it is an angel beckoning him onward and upward.
