The Manifestation of Faith

THE MANIFESTATION OF FAITH

By J. Z. TYLER

What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath faith, and have not works I Can faith save him I If a brother or sister be naked or destitute of daily food, and one of you should say unto them, Depart in peace; be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body, what doth it profit? Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone. Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith and I have works; show me thy faith without thy works and I will show you my faith by my works.--James ii:14-18.

E are required not only to believe, but to manifest our faith to the world. God does not permit any one to hide his faith. It is something too precious to be concealed. Though the exhibition of it should bring upon us the hatred of men, and lead us through bitter persecution, even to a violent death, still we are required to confess and deny not. Moreover, a strong, living faith cannot consent to be silent. It cannot live shut up in one's heart. It must out. It will show itself. When a genuine faith takes hold upon us we are compelled to speak and to act under its directions. It will not suffer [30] us to be idle. It enthrones itself in the heart, and then, by the words of the lips and the works of the hands it proclaims its presence and its power. We cannot be possessed of a living faith without at the same time being characterized by obedient lives. Faith alone is dead. It cannot benefit any one.

The comparison in the text is obvious and striking. The sense of this Scripture is, that, faith in itself, without the acts fitly corresponding to it, and to which it would prompt, is as cold, and heartless, and unmeaning as it would be to say to one who is destitute of the necessaries of life, "depart in peace; be warmed and filled," and not give then the things which are needed. Faith is not, and cannot be shown to be genuine, saving faith, unless it be accompanied with corresponding acts; just as our good wishes for the poor and needy (when we have it in our power to help) cannot be shown to be genuine but by actually ministering to their necessities. He who refuses to give to the needy, when he is able to do it, shows, beyond a doubt, that he has no genuine sympathy for them, although his profession of sympathy may be very great; so he who does not work, shows that he has not genuine faith, though he may lay great claim to it.

But what kind of works is to be given and accepted as proof of faith? Clearly, those works which spring from faith and can be produced by nothing else. There are many good works which may exist, and actually do exist, where there is no [31] faith. An infidel may be generous, liberal, kind, affectionate and philanthropic. The natural and noble impulses in men often bring forth good fruit to bless others. Such works, therefore, cannot certainly prove the presence and power of faith within us, since they often are where faith evidently is not. Faith, however, is not in the least opposed to such good works, but by strengthening the good already within, makes us abound more and more in doing good to all men as we have opportunity. We may become so fruitful in self-sacrifices for the good of others as to leave little room to doubt the genuineness or strength of our faith. A man who lives by faith will be more affectionate and forbearing in his family, more sympathetic and charitable toward the poor and needy; more willing and gracious in forgiving, and more ready to expend his energies and his means in every good word and work.

There are works, however, which spring from faith, and which can be produced by nothing else; and these, after all, must furnish the clearest proofs of the presence of faith. These works may be classified under one general head--works of obedience. Faith looks up to God and is guided by him. It resolutely and persistently rejects all other guides. To it, God's will is the highest law possible. But it is not sufficient to say, in this general way, that the works which furnish the best proof of faith are works of obedience. This is sufficiently exact, but is not sufficiently minute and specific. Let us [32] descend into a more detailed description of some of their characteristics, and illustrate our meaning by incidents in the lives of those who have lived by faith. I do not undertake, however, to point out all the marks peculiar to these works, nor do I hold that all the features of them which I may present are to be seen in any one single act of faith. Works of obedience are:

1. Where there is no apparent reason for doing the thing commanded, and where we are, therefore, compelled to do it simply and alone because God has commanded it. Were any other reason apparent, save the fact that God has commanded it, then that other reason might be the motive which prompts us to do it, and hence the doing of it could not certainly prove our faith. For instance, when Abram was commanded to leave his native land, and go forth, he knew not where nor why, he obeyed the divine injunction and thus gave proof of his faith. There was no apparent reason why he should leave his home and become an exile. No doubt he loved his kindred and the land of his birth. He saw no reasonable prospect of improving his circumstances by seeking; a new place. Why then should he go? Why did he go? For this reason, and for this alone God had commanded him to do it. Again, when, many years after this, God said: "Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which [33] I will tell thee of"--what reason could have induced him to do this? There were many apparent reasons why he should not, but there was only one reason why he should. God had commanded it. Of this there could be no doubt. The command was emphatic and specific. He obeyed simply and alone because God had commanded. What higher reason could any one have? Faith says this is the very highest possible.

2. Where there is no apparent connection between the thing commanded and the end to be gained. A certain end is to be accomplished. We are commanded to do certain things in order to reach this. But there is not the most remote connection, so far as we can see, between the end and the means. They are not related to each other as cause to effect. Take, as an illustration of this, the capture of the city of Jericho. That city was taken by faith. We read, that, "by faith the walls of Jericho fell down, after they were compassed about seven days." But how does it appear that the taking of that city was an act of faith? The Israelites took many other cities, and they took them, too, in obedience to God's command, yet these other cases are not mentioned as acts of faith. What is there peculiar to this, which marks it as an evidence of faith? Evidently, this, that there was no apparent connection between the means to be employed and the end to be gained. God said to Joshua, "Ye shall compass the city, all ye men of war, and go round about [34] the city once. Thus shalt thou do six days. And seven priests shall bear before the ark seven trumpets of rams' horns: and the seventh day ye shall compass the city seven times, and the priests shall blow with the trumpets. And it shall come to pass, that when they make a long blast with the rams' horns, and when ye hear the sound of the trumpet, all the people shall shout with a great shout: and the walls of the city shall fall down flat, and the people shall ascend up every man straight before him." This was the divine plan for the siege. But in all the history of wars, and in all the science of warfare, who had ever adopted such a plan? What apparent connection between the means and the end? The adoption of the plan was a trial and a triumph of their faith. Their own judgment and experience would certainly have suggested some plan more apparently rational. But God intended they should walk by faith, and so while he clearly presents the end to be accomplished, and reveals in detail the means to be employed, he hides from sight and from reason the link which unites the one to the other. We may find, in the conclusion of this discourse, that he sometimes applies to our faith the same severe test.

3. Where there is no apparent necessity for doing the thing commanded, and where reason and experience pronounce it foolish. The faith of Noah furnishes a striking illustration of this. He was a man of remarkable faith. "By faith, Noah, being warned [35] of God of things not seen as yet, moved with fear, prepared an ark to the saving of his house; by the which he condemned the world, and became heir of the righteousness which is by faith." What necessity presented itself ? What signs of a universal deluge? What reason for expecting one? What, in his own experience, or his research into the experience of those who had lived before him, could suggest even the probability of a coming flood? What prophecy in the movement of the waters above the firmament or what ominous sign in the movement of those beneath? None! For sixteen centuries man had lived upon the earth, and there had been no deluge. The earth had moved steadily on in its appointed course. The seasons had come and gone in their regular order. There had been sunshine and shower, making fruitful fields. The sowing at seedtime had been followed by the gathering of the golden grain at the time for the harvest. The laws of nature are moving on with their usual exactness and are producing their uniform results. But God said to him, "Behold, I, even I, do bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh, wherein is the breath of life, from under heaven." He commanded him to build an ark. He gave him the dimensions therefor, and told him of what material he should make it. Now, see him prove his faith. He goes to work doing as God had directed him. The ignorant laugh at him. He works on. Away up in the high land he is felling trees. He says he is [36] preparing to build a great vessel. There is no large body of water near, but he says he intends to build it right there. They call him crazy. He works on. He tells them a great flood is coming, by which both lowland and highland will be covered. He exhorts them to repent. They mock him and turn away. Their wise men seek to instruct him. They tell him there never has been a flood. They lecture him upon the uniformity of the operation of the laws of nature. They argue that such a flood is a physical impossibility. But he answers all this by telling them what God has said, and works on. Years come and go. There are yet no signs of the fulfillment of the prophecy. Still he preaches to the people and works on. O, the patience, and the long suffering and the heroism of his faith! Ridicule, and wit, and sarcasm, and logic, and science, and philosophy, and everything, brought against him--nobody is converted, and nobody pays him for his preaching--yet, he preaches on and works on! O, for a faith like that!

4. Faith endeavors to do everything God commands, and to do it exactly as God commands it to be done. This is an important feature of genuine faith. When faith affirms that the will of God is the highest law possible, it teaches, at the same time, by necessary implication at least, that there is no other power or authority in heaven or upon earth which can excuse us from obedience to that will as it is expressed in the very least of all his [37] commandments. If God's will is supreme and universal law, then, that will, so far as revealed to us, must be supreme law to us, in matters both great and small. If he has right to command that anything be done, then, clearly, he has right to tell exactly how it shall be done, and if he condescends to give the details of the manner in which it shall be done, then faith will, with the same diligence and energy, seek to follow out the details and specific directions, that it employs in accomplishing the general end. Let us recur, for a moment, to the faith of Noah. He was commanded not only to build an ark, but God gave him specific directions as to its size, proportions, and the materials of which it should be made. Now, his faith is shown perhaps more in the exactness with which he followed out all the details than in his obedience to the general command to build an ark. Again, when Moses had received instructions to build the tabernacle, God said, "See that thou make all things according to the pattern showed to thee in the mount." It was, therefore, as clearly his duty to make it according to the pattern as it was to make it at all. This point must be clear. So, at least, it appears to me.

Before leaving this point, however, let me indicate one or two applications of it. First, its bearing upon the theory of essentials and non-essentials. This distinction arises, I apprehend, from a failure to draw the line accurately which marks the boundary between the province of faith and the province [38] of reason. Reason may be employed in deciding whether God has commanded me to do a certain thing. But it cannot, without being guilty of usurpation, go further and undertake to decide whether it is essential or not, and thus decide whether it is binding or not. A strong and intelligent faith protests against such usurpation and ignores all such classifications of divine law. A second application of this point is to the popular idea of Christian charity. There is certainly great need of charity, and there is a legitimate field for its exercise. But I submit that those cases, in which God clearly tells us both what to do and how to do it, cannot properly be included in this field. In such cases there is no room left for us to be charitable, or uncharitable; liberal or illiberal. The only question is whether we will be faithful or faithless. When once it has been decided that a command has been given to us by divine authority, then whether it be great or small, apparently important or unimportant, in harmony with the dictates of reason or above reason, necessary or apparently unnecessary, a genuine and intelligent faith urges us to obey, and to perform the duty with scrupulous exactness.