pity them there?
There is the fountain of judgment. There is the fountain of
forgiveness.
Yes, the greatest school of pitifulness is in the presence of Christ.
From Him, in Temple court and city street, on mountain brow and
sea-shore, in the wilderness and in the domestic circle of Bethany, the
preacher catches that new tone which shall give his accusation
commendation and power. But there is another teacher, still, who will
greatly help to fix the lesson in his heart if only he be heard. That
teacher is Memory. Memory is always waiting to whisper in the
preacher's ear. "And such were some of you," writes St. Paul to the
Corinthians, "but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are
justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the spirit of our God."
Ah! the preacher, himself is but a sinner saved by grace. There was a
time when _he_, also, was in the far country, when he, also, was a
rebel against law and love, when even he was "lost already." Can he
forget those days of darkness and of shame? Can he forget how the
warning ambassador of his hitherto despised Redeemer came to _him_?
Can he forget the mire and the clay and the horrible pit from which a
strong hand brought him forth? Let him "think on these things" as he
looks upon his congregation, as he rebukes their contumacy. Let him
remember that he has come into the pulpit only by the steps of mercy,
by the long-suffering grace of a sin-pardoning God.
Here, then, is an essential part of the preacher's training--the
training of his own heart to tenderness. If he fail in giving
attention to this, all other education will be worse than fruitless.
The age needs the pitiful Church. The age and the Church need the
pitiful ministry. This is not to say that men look to the pulpit for
nothing but softly spoken indulgences. Conscience has taught them that
the message should hurt where hurt is salutary. They will not
recognise as kindness the withholding, or the dilution of any truth.
On the other hand they give to the motive of the preacher who does
these things a less flattering name. They will say--have we not heard
the criticism?--that the preacher is afraid to be faithful, afraid to
offend for reasons that are selfish and cowardly. The offence of
unwelcome truth is covered when that truth is watered by a preacher's
tears.
So let us preach--declaring "the _whole counsel_" concerning sin for
pity's sake, preaching the whole truth concerning sa
|