BY THE LATE REV. ALEXANDER GUNN, SEN., WATTEN, CAITHNESS.
Preached in 1809, and hitherto unpublished.*
“But when Jesus heard that, he said unto them, They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.”—MATT. ix. 12.
* This is a Sermon by “the great” Mr. Gunn, who was born in 1773, ordained minister of Orphir, Orkney, in 1803, and translated to Watten in 1805, where he died in 1836. See Auld’s “Ministers and Men in the Far North.” This Sermon is the only discourse, with the exception of a short address (see Magazine, January, 1897), of this eminent minister that has ever been published, and while it belongs to the earlier and less powerful period of his ministry, it still contains sound, evangelical truth, fitted to be spiritually useful, and giving some index of the commanding ability of the preacher.—ED.
THERE is no article of faith more certain than that Jesus Christ is an all-sufficient and most willing Saviour, able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by Him, and that those that come unto Him He will in no wise cast out. Those that entrust their souls to His hands He keeps, and none of them is lost. It is also certain that all the guilty sons of Adam stand in the most absolute need of Him; in vain do they look for salvation in any other; without Him they are undone for ever. And without Him their very existence becomes a curse, and their immortality but the duration of their misery. The disease of sin has so deeply infected their souls that none but this divine Physician can heal them. Since this is the case, who would not expect that Jesus would be universally the desire of mankind? Ah, who would not expect that as many as are wounded and just perishing of their wounds, would all earnestly apply to this Physician, and seek relief from Him upon any terms? Who would suspect there should be so much as one heart cold and disaffected towards Him? Must not all love and desire Him, since all need Him so extremely, and since He is so completely qualified to be their Deliverer? But, alas! notwithstanding such favourable expectations from the nature of the thing, it is a most notorious fact that this divine Physician is but little regarded in our dying world. This all-sufficient and willing Saviour is generally neglected by perishing sinners. There are thousands among us that have no affectionate thoughts of Him, no eager longings after Him. They exert no vigorous endeavours to obtain an interest in Him, nor are they tenderly solicitous about it. They indeed profess His religion and call themselves Christians after His name; they pay Him the compliment of a bended knee, and now and then perform the external duties of religion, and thus have high hopes they shall be saved through Him; but as to their hearts and affections, He has no share there—these are reserved for the world which, in practical estimation, they prefer to Him, whatever they profess.
Now, whence is this strange and shocking alienation of affection from Him who is the Lord of life and glory, the fountain of all good? Whence is it that the dying are careless about a Physician—that a Saviour is neglected by those that are perishing? The true reason we may find in our text—“They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.” That is, they who imagine themselves well, however disordered they are in reality, do not feel their need of a Physician, and therefore will not apply to Him and put themselves under His care. This is the answer of Christ to the proud, cavilling Pharisees who censured his free conversation with publicans and sinners at an entertainment which Matthew had prepared for Him.
The publicans were a sort of custom-house officers among the Jews, appointed by the Romans, whose tributaries they then were, to collect the duties imposed by the Government. They were generally persons of bad morals, and particularly given to rapine and extortion in raising the taxes. On this account they were particularly hated by the Jews—especially by the strict sect of the Pharisees. Their very office would have rendered them odious, even though they had behaved well in it, for it was a public badge of the slavery of the Jews to the Romans, which, to a people so proud and so fond of liberty as the Jews, was a mortification they could not patiently bear. The publicans were therefore objects of general contempt and abhorrence, as an abandoned sort of men; and the Jews—particularly the rigid and haughty Pharisees—held no conversation with them but kept them at a distance, as though they had been excommunicated. Hence says Christ concerning one excommunicated by the Church for incorrigible wickedness, “Let him be to thee as an heathen man and a publican”—(Matt. xviii. 17). That is, “have no intercourse with him, but treat him as the Jews do the publicans.”
The compassionate Jesus, who came “to seek and save that which was lost,” did not conduct Himself towards those outcasts upon the rigid principles of the Pharisees. They held them in such contempt that they did not labour to instruct and reform them. But Jesus preached to them, conversed with them freely, used the most condescending, affable, and ingratiating measures to reform them, and called some of them to the honour of being His disciples. Of this number was Matthew, the author of this history. Once an abandoned publican, afterwards a disciple, an apostle, and one of the four evangelists whose writings have diffused the vital savour of the name of Jesus through all ages and countries. O! the condescension, the freeness, the efficacy of the grace of Christ! It can make a publican an apostle, an abhorred outcast the favourite of heaven and the companion of angels.
What abundant encouragement does this give to the most abandoned sinner among you to turn unto the Lord! Let publicans and sinners despair of mercy and salvation if they continue in their present condition; but if they arise and follow Jesus at His call and become His humble, teachable disciples, they need not despair. Nay; they may rejoice in hope of the glory of God, and be assured they shall be admitted into the kingdom of God when the self-righteous children of the kingdom are shut out.
When Matthew had embraced the call, he made a feast for his new Master, that he might show his respect and gratitude to Him, and that he might let his brother publicans and old companions have an opportunity of conversing with Him and receiving His instructions. The blessed Jesus, who was always ready to embrace every opportunity of doing good, whatever popular odium it might expose Him to, cheerfully complies with Matthew’s invitation, and mingles with a crowd of publicans at his table. Like a physician, He employs Himself among the sick and dying, and not among the healthy and gay. The conversation of sinners could not be agreeable to Him. To converse with His Father and the holy angels would have been more pleasing to His holy soul, but if by conversing with sinners in our guilty world, He can but save the perishing creatures, He cheerfully submits to the self-denial, and even rejoices in it, just as a compassionate physician, though he has no pleasure in the melancholy mansions of sickness, yet frequents them that he may relieve the distressed.
The Pharisees now thought they had a good handle to raise popular clamour against Christ, and therefore cavil at these freedoms as though they had been profane, and inconsistent with the character of the Messiah, or even of a prophet. If He claimed this character, they thought it much more becoming Him to keep company with them than with profligate publicans. Hence, to stumble and perplex His disciples, they come to them and ask, “Why eateth your Master with publicans and sinners?” The disciples were not as yet endowed with that mouth and wisdom which all their enemies could not withstand, and therefore Jesus answers them, and takes upon Himself His own defence: “The whole,” says He, “have no need of a physician, but they that are sick.” Some suppose that by “the whole” Christ means those that were really whole, or that were not so infected with the disease of sin as to stand in need of Him as a Physician. When such persons can be found among the sons of men, this exposition will appear plausible. But since we know that all have sinned and stand in need of Christ as a Saviour, it is much more reasonable to suppose that by “the whole” Christ means those that imagined themselves whole, though really languishing with the deadly disease of sin. As if He had said, “I come unto the world under the character of a physician for sick souls. Such these despised publicans are, and therefore these are the persons I have to deal with, and these are most likely to make application to me. But as for yourselves, you think you are righteous ; you think you are not so far gone with the disease of sin as to need a Physician sent down from heaven to heal you. While you continue to entertain this high opinion of yourselves, I have no business with you as a Physician. I must therefore rather choose to converse with these sinners, who now begin to see themselves such, and to be sensible of their need of a Physician.” Thus, as I observed, Jesus here vindicates His conduct even upon the principles of the Pharisees themselves. It was not now to His purpose to dispute the high opinion they had of themselves. But when it was proper, He faithfully exposes their true character as proud, self-righteous hypocrites, and denounces the most terrible woes against them.
To give a fuller view of this text, and to adapt it to practical purposes, I intend to describe the character of those that are whole and of those that are sick, in the senses here intended.
There are none of the sons of men who are really “whole.” Their souls are all diseased ; for all have sinned, and there is none righteous, no, not one. And perhaps there are none upon earth so proud and so ignorant of themselves as to affirm in so many words that they are whole, that is, perfectly righteous. Therefore by “the whole” cannot be meant either those who are really free from all sin or those who imagine themselves entirely free from it. It does not appear that even the proud Pharisees were capable of flattering themselves so far. But by “the whole” are meant those who are indeed guilty, depraved sinners, and who are ready to make a superficial profession in words that they are sinners, but continue secure and impenitent, insensible of their guilt, their corruption, their danger, and their need of a Saviour ; that is, those who are really sick and dangerously ill, and yet are as easy, as unapprehensive of danger, as careless about applying to the Physician as if nothing ailed them. The disease is of a lethargic, stupefying nature, so that they are not sensible of it. It renders them delirious, so that they think themselves well when the symptoms of death are strong upon them. What multitudes of such may we see in the world. The Word of God pronounces them dangerously ill ; their friends may see the most deadly symptoms upon them ; but, alas ! they are insensible of their own case. Jesus, the divine Physician, warns them of their danger, offers them His help, and prescribes to them the infallible means of recovery ; but they disregard His warnings, neglect His gracious offer, and refuse to submit to His prescriptions. This is the general character of those that are “whole” in the sense of my text.
By “the sick” are meant those who, like the former, are really guilty, corrupt sinners in extreme need of a Saviour, and who readily confess they are such. But here lies the difference. They are not only such in reality, and they not only acknowledge that they are such, but they are deeply sensible of it ; they are tenderly affected with their case ; their temper and conduct, their thoughts of themselves and of Jesus Christ, their designs and endeavours, are such as are natural to a soul sensibly sick of sin, and such as bear a resemblance to those of a person sick in body and using all means for a recovery. It is the characteristic of this class of sinners, not that they are less holy or in more danger than others, but that they are more sensible of their condition and more solicitous and laborious about deliverance. They feel themselves disordered ; they put themselves under the care of Jesus, the only Physician of souls ; they submit to His prescriptions, and use all means for recovery to soundness of mind from the deadly disease of sin. This is the general character of the sick in the sense of my text, but it is necessary I should descend to particulars.
The particular characters of the whole and sick, in contrast, are such as these :—
i. He that is whole has never had a clear, affecting sight and sense of sin, but he that is sick is fully convinced and deeply sensible of it.
The one has only a general, superficial, unaffecting conviction that he is a sinner, that he has not been so good as he should have been, that his heart is somewhat disordered, and especially that he has been guilty of sundry bad actions. But, alas ! he neither sees his sinfulness in its full extent, nor is suitably affected with that little of it he sees. He does not clearly see the entire and universal corruption of his heart and the numberless principles and seeds of sin that are there, the blindness of his mind as to divine things, the secret disaffection of his heart towards God and holiness, the carnality of his mind, and his lukewarmness and formality in the duties of religion. He may have a transient glance—a superficial view—of these things, but he has not a deep, settled conviction of them, nor is he suitably affected with what he knows of his own sinfulness. It does not appear to him such a mighty matter to have such a disordered heart towards God, to have dropped a forbidden word now and then, or to have committed a few bad actions—few, I say, for so they appear to him, though repeated times and ways beyond number. Sin appears to him a small evil, and he has a thousand excuses to make for it. Hence he is as easy, as careless, as presumptuous in his hopes, as if he believed he did not really deserve punishment from a righteous God, and therefore was in no danger. Though the leprosy of sin spreads ever so wide, and breaks out into ever so many putrid and mortifying sores, yet he is easy and secure and insensible of the disease. Thus, like a man in health, he is unconcerned, and neither apprehends himself sick, nor uses the least means for his recovery. O ! what multitudes of such are among us. They will confess themselves sinners with as little concern as if they were quite free from sin, or as if they thought there was little or no danger in it.
But is it so with the poor, sick sinner ? O ! no ; he sees, he feels, that his whole head is sick and his whole heart faint, and that from the crown of the head even unto the sole of the foot there is nothing but wounds, bruises, and putrifying sores. He feels the plague of a hard, senseless heart, and the secret springs of wickedness within him. He feels that sin has enfeebled all his powers, and that he is no more able to exert them in religious endeavours than a sick man is to employ himself in active life. When he is awakened out of his security and his eyes are opened to see himself in a just light, he perceives the symptoms of spiritual death strong upon him. So clear are his views of his entire and universal depravity and imminent danger, that he is utterly astonished he was so blind as never to discover it before. Now, also, he has a deep sense of the evil of sin. He not only sees himself universally disordered, but he sees and feels the disorder to be deadly. Sin now appears to him the greatest evil upon earth, or even in hell; as worthy of the severest vengeance from a righteous God; as contrary to the divine purity; as a base, ungrateful violation of the most strong and endearing obligations; as destructive to the soul, not only according to the penalty of the divine law, but in its own native tendency.
During the progress of the Christian life the believer feels himself recovering a little, though very slowly, while he follows the prescriptions of his divine Physician and receives healing influences from Him. He feels his enfeebled soul gathering a little strength, his vitiated taste gradually corrected, and the welcome symptoms of returning health. But O! he is sensibly sick still. The cure is not complete in this world, but the remains of his old disorder hang upon him all his life, and he is subject to many dangerous relapses in which it gathers new strength, and he is often afraid it is incurable.
2. They that are whole are generally easy and secure and unapprehensive of danger, but the sick soul is alarmed and anxious, and cannot be easy till it perceives some appearance of recovery.
He that is whole is benumbed with a stupid insensibility, but he that is sick is in pain from the disease of sin which he sensibly feels. The one can walk about merry and thoughtless, with a hard, depraved heart within him; the other is perpetually uneasy, and, like a sick man, has no taste for anything while he feels such a heart within him. If the one is anxious, it is with some worldly care; if the other is anxious, it is chiefly for the recovery of his dying soul. The one can give himself up to business or pleasure or idleness, as a man in health and at ease; the other is apprehensive that his soul is in great danger. He is alarmed with the deadly consequences of sin, as it exposes him to the wrath of God, the loss of heaven, and all the miseries of hell. But this is not all that distresses him; he considers sin in itself as a loathsome disease, and is pained with its present effects upon him. As a sick man is not only alarmed at the consequence of his disease, namely, death, but considers it as a present pain, and as depriving him of the present comforts of life, so the sick soul feels sin as a loathsome, painful disease that now deprives it of the exalted pleasures of religion, and renders it incapable of serving its God with vigour and life. This indisposition of soul for the exercises of religion is in itself a constant uneasiness to him who is spiritually sick. How strongly does Paul represent the case when he cries out, “O, wretched man that I am; who shall deliver me from the body of this death?”—(Romans vii. 24). This is the character of the soul sick of sin. But he that is whole hath little or no uneasiness upon this account. If he is ashamed at all, it is with the consequence of sin; he fears nothing but the punishment. As for the disease itself, it is so far from giving him uneasiness that he is fond of it, and unwilling to part with it. It affords him sensations of pleasure rather than of pain, and he rather dreads a recovery than the continuance of the disorder. That holiness which is the health of the soul is disagreeable to him, and he would rather continue languishing than recover. May be you can easily distinguish between sickness and health of body, and you are very ready to do it. And will you not inquire what state your souls are in—whether they are sensible of their sickness and in a way of recovery; or whether they are insensible of their danger, and unsolicitous about their recovery? May you examine yourselves in these particulars.
3. They that are whole are unwilling to apply to a physician or to follow his prescriptions, but to the sick a physician is most welcome, and they will submit to his directions, however self-denying and mortifying.
This is the point my text has particularly in view, and therefore we must take particular notice of it. They that are in health have no regard to a physician as such; they neither send for him, nor will they accept of his help if offered gratis; they look upon the best of medicines with neglect, as of no use or importance to them; the prescriptions proper to the sick they hear with indifference, as not being concerned. Thus it is with thousands who imagine themselves whole in spirit. The Lord Jesus exhibits Himself to the sons of men under the character of a physician. The gospel makes a free offer of His assistance to all sick souls that will freely accept it, and what reception does He generally meet with? Why, multitudes neglect Him as though they had no need of Him. They may indeed pay Him the compliment of professing His religion because it happened to be the religion of their fathers and their country, but they have no eager desires after Him; they are not in earnest and laborious to obtain His assistance; they do not invite Him with the most affectionate entreaties to undertake their case; they do not beg and cry for relief from Him like blind Bartimæus (Mark x. 47), “Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on us.” In short, whatever regard they may possess for Him, they are not deeply sensible of their absolute need of Him; they are not feelingly affected towards Him as towards a being with whom they have the nearest personal concern—a concern of the utmost importance—and the reason is, they are whole in their own apprehensions; or if they feel some qualms of conscience—some fits of painful remorse—they soon heal their own hurt slightly, crying, “Peace, peace,” when there is no peace. They make a medicine of their own prayers, tears, repentance, and religious endeavours, and with this they hope to heal themselves. Thus Jesus is neglected. They give Him the name of a Saviour, but in reality they look to themselves for a cure. How is the gospel that makes the offer of relief from this heavenly Physician generally received in the world? It is neglected as the offer of superfluous help. It is heard with that indifference with which men in health attend to the prescription of a physician to the sick, in which they have no immediate concern. But this neglected gospel is the only effectual means for healing your dying souls. Then what means the inattention with which it is heard? What means the general neglect with which it is treated? But thus it is all around us.
Again, Jesus prescribes to the sons of men the only means of their recovery. Particularly He enjoins them no more to drink poison, that is, no more to indulge themselves in sin, which is, in its own nature, the most deadly poison to the soul. This divine Physician likewise requires them to use the means of grace instituted in the gospel, to meditate upon their condition, and obtain a deep sense of their disorder, to read and hear the Word with solemn attention and self-application, to pray with frequency and importunity. These are His prescriptions to all that would recover under His hands. But how few observe them in earnest. A general neglect of the means of grace prevails, or they are attended upon with carelessness, which is equally pernicious. Christ also enjoins them to submit to Him as their Physician, to flatter themselves no longer that they can heal themselves by means within their own power, but to apply His blood as the only healing balm to their wounded souls. But, alas, they disregard this grand prescription; they will not submit to Him, but, like an obstinate patient, will have their own way, though eternal death should be the consequence.
But this is not the case of the sinner spiritually sick. He will do anything—he will submit to anything—if it may but save him from the mortal disease of sin. How ardently does he long after Jesus! With what willingness does he put himself under His care! With what joy and gratitude does he hear the offer of free salvation in the gospel, and how dear is the gospel to his heart on this account! With what anxiety does he inquire whether he is upon the recovery or not! With what pleasure does he discover the signs of returning health—to feel a little eager appetite for spiritual food, to feel a little spiritual life in religious exercises, to feel himself able to run in the way of God’s commandments, to feel the principles of sin weakened within him. How willingly does he submit to the prescriptions of his Physician, and attend upon the means of grace, however disagreeable to a carnal mind! He makes the law of God the rule of his conduct. He guards against relapses, and keeps out of the way of temptation as far as possible. But those that think their souls healthy and vigorous boast of their strength and what mighty things they can do in religion. As for him, he feels his weakness; he feels he can do nothing aright but as he receives daily strength from Christ. He feels himself every day troubled with some disorder or other, therefore he is daily sensible of his need of the Physician, and makes daily application to Him. He does not grudge to take time from his other affairs that he may use means for the recovery of his soul. For if he lose his soul, what would the whole world profit him? In short, the sick sinner is a tender, frail creature, entirely dependent upon Christ, and every day taking medicine from Him, anxious for his recovery, and willing to submit to anything that may promote it. This is the man, in our Christian-despising world, that gives Jesus a most willing and welcome reception, and embraces His gospel as containing all his salvation and all his desire. May the number of the sick among us be daily increasing!
(To be Concluded next month.)