urse, the Apostle does
not mean merely external obedience. He means something far deeper
than that, which I put into this plain word, that the one essential
of a Christian life is the conformity of the will with God's--not
the external obedience merely, but the entire surrender and the
submission of my will to the will of my Father in Heaven. That is the
all-important thing; that is what God wants; that is the end of all
rites and ceremonies; that is the end of all revelation and of all
utterances of the divine heart. The Bible, Christ's mission, His
passion and death, the gift of His Divine Spirit, and every part of
the divine dealings in providence, all converge upon this one aim and
goal. For this purpose the Father worketh hitherto, and Christ works,
that man's will may yield and bow itself wholly and happily and
lovingly to the great infinite will of the Father in heaven.

Brethren! that is the perfection of a man's nature, when his will
fits on to God's like one of Euclid's triangles superimposed upon
another, and line for line coincides. When his will allows a free
passage to the will of God, without resistance or deflection, as
light travels through transparent glass; when his will responds to
the touch of God's finger upon the keys, like the telegraphic needle
to the operator's hand, then man has attained all that God and
religion can do for him, all that his nature is capable of; and far
beneath his feet may be the ladders of ceremonies and forms and
outward acts, by which he climbed to that serene and blessed height,
'Circumcision is nothing, and uncircumcision is nothing, but the
keeping of God's commandments is everything.'

That submission of will is the sum and the test of your Christianity.
Your Christianity does not consist only in a mere something which you
call faith in Jesus Christ. It does not consist in emotions, however
deep and blessed and genuine they may be. It does not consist in the
acceptance of a creed. All these are means to an end. They are meant
to drive the wheel of life, to build up character, to make your
deepest wish to be, 'Father! not my will, but Thine, be done.' In the
measure in which that is your heart's desire, and not one
hair's-breadth further, have you a right to call yourself a
Christian.

But, then, I can fancy a man saying: 'It is all very well to talk
about bowing the will in this fashion; how can I do that?' Well, let
us take our second text--the third in the order