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CHAPTER XXIV.

THE NEW WINE OF THE SPIRIT.

Very solemnly did the moral homily to the Asian Christians begin in chapter iv. 17: “This therefore I say and testify in the Lord, that you must no longer walk as the Gentiles walk.” So much has now been said and testified in the intervening paragraphs, by way both of dehortation and exhortation. Here the apostle pauses; and casting his eye over the whole pathway of life he has marked out in this discourse, he bids his readers: “Look then carefully how you walk. Show that you are not fools, but wise to observe your steps and to seize your opportunities in these evil times,—days so perilous that you need your best wisdom and knowledge of God’s will to save you from fatal stumbling.”

So far St Paul’s renewed exhortation, in verses 15–17, inculcates care and wary discretion,—the skill 337 that in the strategy of life finds its vantage in unequal ground, that makes opposing winds help forward the seafarer. In this sober wisdom it is likely the Asian Christians were deficient. In many ways, both directly and indirectly, the need of increased thoughtfulness on the readers’ part has been indicated. But there is another side to the Christian nature: it has its moods of exhilaration, as well as of caution and reflection; ardent emotion, eager speech and exultant song are things proper to a high religious life. For these the apostle makes room in verses 18–20, while the three foregoing verses enjoin the circumspection and vigilance that become the good soldier of Christ Jesus.

A striking contrast thus arises between the sobriety and the excitement that mark the life of grace. We see with what strictness we must watch over ourselves, and guard the character and interests of the Church; and with what joyousness and holy freedom we may take our part in its communion. Temperament and constitution modify these injunctions in their personal application. The Holy Spirit does not enable us all to speak with equal fervour and freedom, nor to sing with the same tunefulness. His power operates in the limbs of Christ’s body “according to the measure of each single part.” But the self-same Spirit works in both these contrasted ways,—in the sanguine and the melancholic disposition, in the demonstrative and in the reserved, in the quick play of fancy and the brightness and impulsiveness of youth no less than in the sober gait and solid sense of riper age. Let us see how the two opposite aspects of Christian experience are set out in the apostle’s words.

I. First of all, upon the one side, heedfulness is enjoined. The children of light must use the light to 338 see their way. To “stumble at noonday” is a proof of folly or blindness. So misusing our light, we shall quickly lose it and return to the paths of darkness.

According to the preferable (Revised) order of the words, the qualifying adverb “carefully” belongs to the “look,” not to the “walk.” The circumspect look precedes the wise step. The spot is marked on which the foot is to be planted; the eye ranges right and left and takes in the bearings of the new position, forecasting its possibilities. “Look before you leap,” our sage proverb says. According to the carefulness of the look, the success of the leap is likely to be.

There is no word in the epistle more apposite than this to

We are too restless to think, too impatient to learn. Everything is sacrificed to speed. The telegraph and the daily newspaper symbolize the age. The public ear loves to be caught quickly and with new sensations: a premium is set on carelessness and hurry. Earnest men, eager for the triumph of a good cause, push forward with unsifted statements and unweighed denunciations, that discredit Christian advocacy and wound the cause of truth and charity. Time, thus wronged and driven beyond her pace, has her revenge; she deals hardly with these light judgements of the hour. They are as the chaff which the wind carrieth away. After all, it is still truth that lives; thorough work that lasts; accuracy that hits the mark. And the time-servers are “unwise,” both intellectually and morally. They are most unwise who think to succeed in life’s high calling without self-distrust, and without 339 scrupulous care and pains in all work they do for the kingdom of God.

In the evil of his own times St Paul sees a special reason for heedfulness: “Walk not as unwise, but as wise, buying up the opportunity, because the days are evil.” In Colossians iv. 5 the parallel sentence shows that in giving this caution he is thinking of the relation of Christians to the world outside: “Walk in wisdom toward those without, buying up the opportunity.” Evil days they were, when Paul lay in Nero’s prison; when that wild beast was raging against everything that resisted his mad will or reproved his monstrous vices. With supreme power in the hands of such a creature of Satan, who could tell what fires of persecution were kindling for the people of Christ, or what terrible revelation of God’s anger against the present evil world might be impending. At Ephesus the spirit of heathenism had shown itself peculiarly menacing. Here, too, in the rich and cultivated province of Asia where the currents of Eastern and Western thought met, heresy and its corruptions made their first decided appearance in the Churches of the Gentiles. Conflicts are approaching which will try to the uttermost the strength of the Christian faith and the temper of its weapons (vi. 10–16).

As wise men, reading thoughtfully the signs of the times, the Asian Christians will “redeem the [present] season.” They will use to the utmost the light given them. They will employ every means to increase their knowledge of Christ, to confirm their faith and the habits of their spiritual life. They are like men expecting a siege, who strengthen their fortifications and furbish their weapons and practise their drill and lay up store of supplies, that they may “stand in the 340 evil day.” Such wisdom Ecclesiastes preaches to the young man: “Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, or ever the evil days come.”

Within a year after this epistle was penned, Rome was burnt and the crime of its burning washed out, at Nero’s caprice, in Christian blood. In four years more St Paul and St Peter had died a martyr’s death at Rome; and Nero had fallen by the assassin’s hand. At once the Empire was convulsed with civil war; and the year 68–69 was known as that of the Four Emperors. Amid the storms threatening the ruin of the Roman State, the Jewish war against Rome was carried on, ending in the year 70 with the capture of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Jewish temple and nationality. These were the days of tribulation of which our Lord spoke, “such as had not been since the beginning of the world” (Matt. xxiv. 21, 22). The entire fabric of life was shaken; and in the midst of earthquake and tempest, blood and fire, Israel met its day of judgement and the former age passed away. In the year 63, when the apostle wrote, the sky was everywhere red and lowering with signs of coming storm. None knew where or how the tempest might break, or what would be its issue.

When men amid evil days and portents of danger must be told not to be “foolish” nor “drunken with wine,” one is disposed to tax them with levity. It was difficult for these Asian Greeks to take life seriously, and to realize the gravity of their situation. St Paul appeals to them by their duty, still more than by their danger: “Be not foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.” As he bade the Thessalonians consider that chastity was not matter of choice and of their own advantage only, it was “God’s will” (1 Ep. iv. 3), so 341 the Ephesians must understand that Christ is no mere adviser, nor the Christian life an optional system that men may adopt when and so far as it suits them. He is our Lord; and it is our business to understand, in order that we may execute, His designs. For this Christ’s servants require a watchful eye and an alert intelligence. They must be no dullards nor simpletons, who would enter into the Divine Master’s plans; no triflers, no creatures of sentiment and impulse, who are to be the agents of His will. He can and does employ every sincere heart that gives itself in love to Him. But His nobler tasks are for the wise taught by His Spirit, for those who can “understand,” with penetrating sympathy and breadth of comprehension, “what the will of the Lord is.” Hence the distinction of St Paul himself, and of John the beloved disciple, amongst His ministers and witnesses,—men great in mind as they were in heart, whose thoughts about Christ were as grand as their love to Him was fervent.

Nowhere does the apostle say so much of “the will of God” in regard to the dispensation of grace as he does in this epistle.¹³⁸¹³⁸   See ch. i. 5–11, ii. 21, iii. 11, v. 10, vi. 6; comp. Col. i. 9, 27, iv. 12; Phil. ii. 13,—epistles of the same group. For he sees life and salvation here in their largest bearings and proportions. He prayed at the outset that the Gentile readers might realize the value that God puts upon them, and the mighty forces He has set at work for their salvation (i. 18–20); and again, that they might comprehend the vast dimensions of His plan for the building of the Church (iii. 18). Now that he has shown the relation of this eternal purpose to the character and everyday life of the converted Gentiles, “the will of God” becomes matter of immediate import; it is revealed 342 in its bearing upon conduct, upon the affairs of business and society. It is not the purpose, the promises, the doctrine of the Lord alone, but “the will of the Lord” that they have to understand, as it touches their spirit and behaviour day by day. They must realize the practical demands of their religion,—how it is to make them truthful, gracious, pure and wise. They must translate creed into life and act. Such is the wisdom which their apostle strives to instil into the Asian Christians. Their first need was spiritual enlightenment; their second need was moral intelligence. Might they only have sense to understand and loyalty to obey the will of Christ.—And oh may we!

II. There were converted thieves in the Ephesian Church, who still needed to be warned against their old propensities (iv. 28); there were men who had been sorcerers and fortune-tellers (Acts xix. 18, 19). It appears that there were in this circle converted drunkards also, men to whom the apostle is obliged to say: “Be not drunk with wine, wherein is riot.”

In view of the following context (vv. 19–21), and remembering how the Lord’s table was defiled by excess at Corinth (1 Cor. xi. 17–34), it seems to us probable that the warning of verse 18 had special reference to the Christian assemblies. The institution of the common meal, the Agapé or Lovefeast accompanying the Lord’s Supper, suited the manners of the early Christians, and was long continued. The cities of Asia Minor were full of trade-guilds and clubs for various social and religious purposes, in which the common supper, or club-feast, furnished usually by each member bringing his contribution to the table, was a familiar bond of fellowship. This afforded to the Church a natural and 343 pleasant means of intercourse; but it must be purified from sensual indulgence. Wine was its chief danger.

The eastern coast of the Ægean is an ancient home of the vine. And the Greeks of the Asian towns, on those bright shores and under their genial sky, were a light-hearted, sociable race. They sought the wine-cup not for animal indulgence, but as a zest to good-fellowship and to give a freer flow to social joys. This was the influence that ruled their feasts, that loosened their tongues and inspired their gaiety. Hence their wit was prone to become ribaldry (ver. 4); and their songs were the opposite of the “spiritual songs” that gladden the feasts of the Church (ver. 19). The quick imagination and the social instincts of the Ionian Greeks, the aptness for speech and song native to the land of Homer and Sappho, were gifts not to be repressed but sanctified. The lyre is to be tuned to other strains; and poetry must draw its inspiration from a higher source. Dionysus and his reeling Fauns give place to the pure Spirit of Jesus and the Father. “The Aonian mount” must now pay tribute to “Sion hill”; and the fountain of Castalia yields its honours to

Our nature craves excitement,—some stimulus that shall set the pulses dancing and thrill the jaded frame, and lift the spirit above the taskwork of life and the dreary and hard conditions which make up the daily lot of multitudes. It is this craving that gives to strong drink its cruel fascination. Alcohol is a mighty magician. The tired labouring man, the household drudge shut up in city courts refreshed by no pleasant sight or cheering voice, by its aid can leave fretted 344 nerves and aching limbs and dull care behind, and taste, if it be only for a feverish moment, of the joy of bounding life. Can such cravings be hindered from seeking their relief? The removal of temptation will accomplish little, unless higher tastes are formed and springs of purer pleasure opened to the masses for whom our civilization makes life so drab and colourless. “One finds traces of the primitive greatness of our nature even in its most deplorable errors. Just as impurity proceeds at the bottom from an abuse of the craving for love, so drunkenness betrays a certain demand for ardour and enthusiasm, which in itself is natural and even noble.... Man loves to feel himself alive; he would fain live twice his life at once; and he would rather draw excitement from horrible things than have no excitement at all” (Monod).

For the drunkards of Ephesus the apostle finds a cure in the joys of the Holy Ghost. The mightiest and most moving spring of feeling is in the spirit of man kindred to God. There is a deep excitement and refreshment, a “joy that human thought transcends,” in the love of God shed abroad in the heart and the communion of true saints, which makes sensuous delights cheap and poor. Toil and care are forgotten, sickness and trouble seem as nothing; we can glory in tribulation and laugh in the face of death, when the strong wine of God’s consolations is poured into the soul.

“Be filled with the Spirit,” says the apostle—or more strictly, “filled in the Spirit”; since the Holy Spirit of God is the element of the believer’s life, surrounding while it penetrates his nature: it is the atmosphere that he breathes, the ocean in which he is immersed. As a flood fills up the river-banks, as the drunkard is filled with the wine that he drains 345 without limit, so the apostle would have his readers yield themselves to the tide of the Spirit’s coming and steep their nature in His influence. The Greek imperative, moreover, is present, and “describes this influence as ever going forth from the Spirit” (Beet). This is to be a continual replenishment. Paul has prayed that we may “be filled unto all the fulness of God” (iii. 19), and has bidden us grow “to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ” (iv. 13) in whom we “are made full” (Col. ii. 9): in the replenishment of the Spirit the fulness of God in Christ is sensibly imparted. God’s fulness is the hidden and eternal spring of all that can fill our nature; Christ’s fulness is its revelation and renewed communication to the race; the Holy Spirit’s fulness is its abiding energy within the soul and within the Church. Thus possessed, the Church is truly the body of Christ (iv. 4), and the habitation of God (ii. 21, 22).

The words of verses 19, 20 show that St Paul is thinking of that presence of the Spirit in the Christian community, which is the spring of its affections and activities. The Spirit of Jesus, the Son of man, is a kindly and gracious Spirit, the guardian of brotherhood and friendship, the inspirer of pure social joys and genial converse. The joy in the Holy Ghost that in its warmth and freshness filled the hearts of the first Christians, soared upward on the wings of song. Their very talk was music: they “spoke to each other in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody with their heart to the Lord.” Love loves to sing. Its joys

346 All exalted sentiment tends to rhythmical expression. There is a mystical alliance, which is amongst the most significant facts in our constitution, between emotion and art. The rudest natures, touched by high feeling, will shape themselves to some sort of beauty, to some grace and refinement of expression. Each new stirring of the pulse of man’s common life has been marked by a re-birth of poetry and art. The songs of Mary and Zechariah were the parents and patterns of a multitude of holy canticles. In the Psalms of Scripture the New Testament Church found already an instrument of wide compass strung and tuned for her use. We can imagine the delight with which the Gentile Christians would take up the Psalter and draw out one and another of its pearls, and would in turn recite them at their meetings, and adapt them to their native measures and modes of song. After a while, they began to mix with the praise-songs of Israel newer strains—“hymns” to the glory of Christ and the Father, such as that with which this epistle opens, needing but little change in form to make it a true poem, and such as those which break in upon the dread visions of the Apocalypse; and added to these, “spiritual songs” of a more personal and incidental character, like Simeon’s Nunc dimittis or Paul’s swan-song in his last letter to Timothy. In verse 14 above we detected, as we thought, an early Church paraphrase of the Old Testament. In later epistles addressed to Ephesus, there are fragments of just such artless chants as the Asian Christians, exhorted and taught by their apostle, were wont to sing in their assemblies: see 1 Timothy iii. 16, and 2 Timothy ii. 11–13.

Upon this congenial soil, we trace the beginnings of 347 Christian psalmody. The parallel text of Colossians (iii. 16) discloses in the songs of the Pauline Churches a didactic as well as a lyric character. The apostle bids his readers “teach and admonish one another by psalms, hymns, spiritual songs.” The form of the sentence of chapter iv. 4–6 in this letter, and of 1 Timothy iii. 16, suggests that these passages were destined for use as a chanted rehearsal of Christian belief. Thus “the word of Christ dwelling richly” in the heart, poured itself freely from the lips, and added to its grave discourse the charms of gladdening and spirit-stirring song.

As in their heathen days they were used to “speak to each other,” in festive or solemn hours, with hymns to Artemis of the Ephesians, or Dionysus giver of the vine, or to Persephoné sad queen of the dead—in songs merry and gay, too often loose and wanton; in songs of the dark underworld and the grim Furies and inexorable Fate, that told how life fleets fast and we must pluck its pleasures while we may;—so now the Christians of Ephesus and Colossæ, of Pergamum and of Smyrna would sing of the universal Father whose presence fills earth and sky, of the Son of His love, His image amongst men, who died in sacrifice for their sins and asked grace for His murderers, of the joys of forgiveness and the cleansed heart, of life eternal and the treasure laid up for the just in the heavenly places, of Christ’s return in glory and the judgement of the nations and the world quickly to dissolve and perish, of a brotherhood dearer than earthly kindred, of the saints who sleep in Jesus and in peace await His coming, of the Good Shepherd who feeds His sheep and leads them to fountains of living water calling each by his name, of creation redeemed 348 and glorified by His love, of pain and sorrow sanctified and the trials that make perfect in Christ’s discipline, of the joy that fills the heart in suffering for Him, and the vision of His face awaiting us beyond the grave. So reciting and chanting—now in single voice, now in full chorus—singing the Psalms of David to their Greek music, or hymns composed by their leaders, or sometimes improvised in the rapture of the moment, the Churches of Ephesus and of the Asian cities lauded and glorified “the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” and the counsels of redeeming love. So their worship and fellowship were filled with gladness. Thus in their great Church meetings, and in smaller companies, many a joyous hour passed; and all hearts were cheered and strengthened in the Lord.

“Singing and playing,” says the apostle. For music aided song; voice and instrument blended in His praise whose glory claims the tribute of all creatures. But it was “with the heart,” even more than with voice or tuneful strings, that melody was made. For this inward music the Lord listens. Where other skill is wanting and neither voice nor hand can take its part in the concert of praise, He hears the silent gratitude, the humble joy that wells upward when the lips are still or the full heart cannot find expression.

But the Spirit who dwelt in the praises of the new Israel, was not confined to its public assemblings. The people of Christ should be “always giving thanks, for all things, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” It is one of St Paul’s commonest injunctions. “In everything give thanks,” he wrote to the Thessalonians in his earliest extant letter (1 Ep. v. 18). “For all things,” he says to the Ephesians,—“though fallen on evil days.” Do we not “know that to them that love 349 God all things work together for good”—evil days as well as good days? Nothing comes altogether amiss to the child of God. In the heaviest loss, the severest pain, the sharpest sting of injury—“in everything” the ingenuity of love and the sweetness of patience will find some token of mercy. If the evil is to our eyes all evil and we can see in it no reason for thanksgiving, then faith will give thanks for that which we “know not now, but shall know hereafter.”

Always, the apostle says,—for all things! No room for a moment’s discontent. In this perfecting of praise he had himself undergone a long schooling in his four years’ imprisonment. Now, he tells us, he “has learnt the secret of contentment, in whatsoever state” (Phil. iv. 12). Let us try to learn it from him. These words, which we treat, almost unconsciously, as the exaggeration of homiletical appeal, state no more than the sober possibility, the experience attained by many a Christian in circumstances of the greatest suffering and deprivation. The love of God in Jesus Christ our Lord suffices for the life and joy of man’s spirit.

The twenty-first verse, which seems to belong to a different line of thought, in reality completes the foregoing paragraph. In the Corinthian Church, as we remember, with its affluence of spiritual gifts, there were so many ready to prophesy, so many to sing and recite, that confusion arose and the Church meetings fell into disedifying uproar (1 Cor. xiv. 26–34). The apostle would not have such scenes occur again. Hence when he urges the Asian Christians to seek the full inspiration of the Spirit and to give free utterance in song to the impulses of their new life, he adds this word of caution: “being subject to one another in fear of Christ.” He reminds them that “God is not the author 350 of confusion.” His Spirit is a spirit of seemliness and reverence. “In fear of Christ,” the unseen witness and president of its assemblies, the Church will comport herself with the decorum that befits His bride. The spirits of the prophets will be subject to the prophets. The voices of the singers and the hands of them that play upon the strings of the harp or the keys of the organ, will keep tune with the worship of Christ’s congregation. Each must consider that it is his part to serve and not rule in the service of God’s house.

In our common work and worship, in all the offices of life this is the Christian law. No man within Christ’s Church, however commanding his powers, may set himself above the duty of submitting his judgement and will to that of his fellows. In mutual subjection lies our freedom, with our strength and peace.