are but signs of something bigger and deeper. The more deeply people think and feel, the more surely are they aware that this world is a battlefield, that the powers of light and day ceaselessly engage. We don’t use the old language, but the facts do not change. And Augustine knew Manicheanism.
I will take the contrast further still. You might say not so far, but I say—further. The battle of night and day is not merely visible on the huge scale of world events; it is not merely being fought out on the procession of the universe. It is going on inside you and me. And for us, since we are what we are, that is the most significant thing there is to say. I am quite sure I shall not be contradicted here. You’ve felt this; you know what I mean. You know the hideous monster of darkness that lives in your heart, you know the contendings of day and night in your own soul. You know the burning and shining light that sometimes beams so fair within you. And have you not seen, as, God forgive me, I have seen the inky mist come rising up with wispy choking fingers, smothering tentacles, that blot out all the light. You have watched the moon at night, sailing in a clear sky, and then a cloud, windblown, catches it in its folds, and gradually puts out the light. You remember one of Shakespeare’s sonnets-
Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,Kissing with golden face the meadows green,Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face And from the forlorn world his visage hide,Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace. (Sonnet 33)
How many a day has been like that! The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness speedily overtakes it. Augustine knew this too.
But, and this is the great biblical “but,” St. Paul is not merely reinforcing this contrast, this conflict, like any moral pedagogue. He says, “the night is far spent, the day is at hand.” I wish I could make you feel the power that throbs through Paul’s words here. Some of you do; if you do not, you must simply live with St. Paul, until you do. He sees the battle swaying this way and that, now night, now day, prevails; but suddenly something happens that changes the whole course of events. The Prince of Light leaps into the arena and strikes the decisive blow. Therefore, “the night is far spent, the day is at hand.” Evil is beaten, the shadows retire. He sees the conflict as we see the conflict in Europe today. D-Day is past. That was the day of Bethlehem and Calvary. Now Victory Day is not far ahead. You Christians are living in the stirring days before full dawn. Therefore, but this is our second point: cast off the works of darkness, put on the armor of light.
CAST OFF THE WORKS OF DARKNESS, PUT ON THE ARMOR OF LIGHT
Or to put it in prose instead of pure poetry—“be consistent, be what you are.” If these Christian facts are true, if there was such a Christ who wrought such a salvation, you must be what he has made you. “Cast off the works of darkness which are antithetical to Him.” How necessary is this warning to Christians! Only recently I have heard of another case (not in Darlington) in which a certain man, a very active leader in his own Methodist Church, antagonized many people, including his own employees against the faith simply because his business methods were not those of a good program. You who are children of light, cast off the works of darkness! Be consistent! I have been reading recently the diary of Thomas Turner, who lived about the time of John Wesley. In his pages you read the pious comments on sermons and Scriptures which alternate with descriptions of drunken debauches in a manner which would be amusing if it were not downright revolting and painful.
Therefore, I am under obligation to you and to myself to cast off works of darkness. Be consistent. There are some things that must be purged out of the life of a Church, I almost said, at any cost. Rivalry, faction, cliquishness, must be cast off. Evil-speaking, scandal-mongering, detraction must be cast off. Trifling with our high calling, the pursuit of all lower ends, and ideals must be cast off. We cannot afford these things.
Do not think that I am being merely negative, far from it. That is something I dread. In Ambleside there are little stone fountains, each with a text. One said, “Ho everyone who thirsts.” But the well was broken down and dry. I have never seen a more dreadful parable of a failing Christian life, a failing Christian Church, a life of a Church without a supply of the water of life.
Therefore, I speak of no “negative way.” Not only must we “cast off” we must “put on.” And note the change. This time not “works” but rather “armor.” Here is the Church on its military mission. It is a continual astonishment to me, to find out how many people think of Christians in general, and parsons in particular, as meek pacifying people, whose main task in life is to go about giving offense to no one, living dull colorless lives of silent acquiescence. How can they think such a thing? Obviously because they have never read the New Testament. I tell you, if I get through my life without ever offending anyone I shall be mighty disappointed, and I shall know I have been completely unlike my Lord. There are quite literally millions of people whom it is a simple Christian duty to offend. There are unnumbered evils which we must fight, anxiously, desperately. There are parts of the New Testament that read almost like the King’s Regulations.
You have to fight the darkness in yourself first and foremost. Never be so busy offending other people that you forget to offend yourself—to beat yourself black and blue as Paul said. You have to fight every evil thing of night that you meet in the world around you. I know that we cannot all fight on all the fronts, but each of us has his own responsibility. Probably I am the only person here who has a responsibility in the field of critical theology. Some of you can do in the world of business, what I could never do as an outsider. Some of you have access to local and national government that I have not. Some of you fight our country’s battles. But each of us in his own order, has his own responsibility. Let him look to it.
We have a Gospel to preach, which, though it is indeed the power of God unto salvation, is a scandal and an offense to the natural person. Here is our prime task as a Christian. For this task, I urge you to put on the armor of light. Let us leave behind our fears, our doubts, and press on to this. If we do not, we have no right to exist. “Heartless preacher,” I can hear you say. “Here we are weary and harrowed enough already in all conscience, and he makes all these further demands.” But wait, there is a further point: put on the Lord Jesus Christ.
PUT ON THE LORD JESUS CHRIST
Let me remind you of the two most famous sentences in all of St. Augustine’s voluminous writings. First the prayer he tells us he used to make—“Lord give me chastity, but not now!” We know that mood, I think, perhaps not with regard to the virtue of chastity, but to something else. Also the later prayer of passionate self-surrender, of utter devotion, of entire obedience—“Give what thou commandest, and then command what thou wilt.”
What stands between these two prayers, worlds apart as they are? I can tell you very briefly. It is Augustine’s acceptance of this very text, “put on the Lord Jesus Christ.” That was what made the difference, and that is what I am saying to you. I am not stirring you up to some extra moral effort, I am asking you to accept Christ. Some of us in our own way, have tried like Augustine to be good, and we have tried like him to think. And we have not, I hope, stopped doing either of these things. But that which has made the difference has been Christ, and our venturing on Him saying, “Lord Jesus, known to us in the testimony of the Holy Word; take me as I am and make me what thou wilt.”
Come, not to find, but make this troubled heart A dwelling worthy of Thee as Thou art;To chase the gloom, the terror, and the sin:Come, all Thyself, yea come, Lord Jesus, in! (H. C. G. Moule)
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“RIGHTEOUSNESS, PEACE AND JOY”—Romans 14.17
[Preached nineteen times from 10/22/44 at Bondgate, Darlington to 5/18/97 at Byers Green]
It is very tempting to spend time on the setting of this
