(39) He that findeth his life.—The word is the same as that translated “soul” (i.e., that by which man lives in the lower or the higher sense of life) in Matthew 10:28. The point of the maxim lies in the contrast between the two senses. To gain the lower now is to lose the higher hereafter, and conversely, to lose the lower for the sake of Christ (i.e., to die a martyr’s death in confessing Him) is to gain the higher.

Matthew

A LIFE LOST AND FOUND 1

Matthew 10:39.

My heart impels me to break this morning my usual rule of avoiding personal references in the pulpit. Death has been busy in our own congregation this last week, and yesterday we laid in the grave all that was mortal of a man to whom Manchester owes more than it knows. Mr. Crossley has been for thirty years my close and dear friend. He was long a member of this church and congregation. I need not speak of his utter unselfishness, of his lifelong consecration, of his lavish generosity, of his unstinted work for God and man; but thinking of him and of it, I have felt as if the words of my text were the secret of his life, and as if he now understood the fulness of the promise they contain: ‘He that loseth his life for My sake shall find it.’ Now, looking at these words in the light of the example so tenderly beloved by some of us, so sharply criticised by many, but now so fully recognised as saintly by all, I ask you to consider-

I. The stringent requirement for the Christian life that is here made.

Now we shall very much impoverish the meaning and narrow the sweep of these great and penetrating words, if we understand by ‘losing one’s life’ only the actual surrender of physical existence. It is not only the martyr on whose bleeding brows the crown of life is gently placed; it is not only the temples that have been torn by the crown of thorns, that are soothed by that unfading wreath; but there is a daily dying, which is continually required from all Christian people, and is, perhaps, as hard as, or harder than, the brief and bloody passage of martyrdom by which some enter into rest. For the true losing of life is the slaying of self, and that has to be done day by day, and not once for all, in some supreme act of surrender at the end, or in some initial act of submission and yielding at the beginning, of the Christian life. We ourselves have to take the knife into our own hands and strike, and that not once, but ever, right on through our whole career. For, by natural disposition, we are all inclined to make our own selves to be our own centres, our own aims, the objects of our trust, our own law; and if we do so, we are dead whilst we live, and the death that brings life is when, day by day, we ‘crucify the old man with his affections and lusts.’ Crucifixion was no sudden death; it was an exquisitely painful one, which made every nerve quiver and the whole frame thrill with anguish; and that slow agony, in all its terribleness and protractedness, is the image that is set before us as the true ideal of every life that would not be a living death. The world is to be crucified to me, and I to the world.

We have our centre in ourselves, and we need the centre to be shifted, or we live in sin. If I might venture upon so violent an image, the comets that career about the heavens need to be caught and tamed, and bound to peaceful revolution round some central sun, or else they are ‘wandering stars to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever.’ So, brethren, the slaying of self by a painful, protracted process, is the requirement of Christ.

But do not let us confine ourselves to generalities. What is meant? This is meant-the absolute submission of the will to commandments and providences, the making of that obstinate part of our nature meek and obedient and plastic as the clay in the potter’s hands. The tanner takes a stiff hide, and soaks it in bitter waters, and dresses it with sharp tools, and lubricates it with unguents, and his work is not done till all the stiffness is out of it and it is flexible. And we do not lose our lives in the lofty, noble sense, until we can say-and verify the speech by our actions-’Not my will but Thine be done.’ They who thus submit, they who thus welcome into their hearts, and enthrone upon the sovereign seat in their wills, Christ and His will-these are they who have lost their lives. When we can say, ‘I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me,’ then, and only then, have we in the deepest sense of the words ‘lost our lives.’

The phrase means the suppression, and sometimes the excision, of appetites, passions, desires, inclinations. It means the hallowing of all aims; it means the devotion and the consecration of all activities. It means the surrender and the stewardship of all possessions. And only then, when we have done these things, shall we have come to practical obedience to the initial requirement that Christ makes from us all-to lose our lives for His sake.

I need not diverge here to point to that life from which my thoughts have taken their start in this sermon. Surely if there was any one characteristic in it more distinct and lovely than another, it was that self was dead and that Christ lived. There may be sometimes a call for the actual-which is the lesser-surrender of the bodily life, in obedience to the call of duty. There have been Christian men who have wrought themselves to death in the Master’s service. Perhaps he of whom I have been speaking was one of these. It may be that, if he had done like so many of our wealthy men-had flung himself into business and then collapsed into repose-he would have been here to-day. Perhaps it would have been better if there had been a less entire throwing of himself into arduous and clamant duties. I am not going to enter on the ethics of that question. I do not think there are many of this generation of Christians who are likely to work themselves to death in Christ’s cause; and perhaps, after all, the old saying is a true one, ‘Better to wear out than to rust out.’ But only this I will say: we honour the martyrs of Science, of Commerce, of Empire, why should not we honour the martyrs of Faith? And why should they be branded as imprudent enthusiasts, if they make the same sacrifice which, when an explorer or a soldier makes, his memory is honoured as heroic, and his cold brows are crowned with laurels? Surely it is as wise to die for Christ as for England. But be that as it may; the requirement, the stringent requirement, of my text is not addressed to any spiritual aristocracy, but is laid upon the consciences of all professing Christians.

II. Observe the grounds of this requirement.

Did you ever think-or has the fact become so familiar to you that it ceases to attract notice?-did you ever think what an extraordinary position it is for the son of a carpenter in Nazareth to plant Himself before the human race and say, ‘You will be wise if you die for My sake, and you will be doing nothing more than your plain duty’? What business has He to assume such a position as that? What warrants that autocratic and all-demanding tone from His lips? ‘Who art Thou’-we may fancy people saying-’that Thou shouldst put out a masterful hand and claim to take as Thine the life of my heart?’ Ah! brethren, there is but one answer: ‘Who loved me, and gave Himself for me.’ The foolish, loving, impulsive apostle that blurted out, before his time had come, ‘I will lay down my life for Thy sake,’ was only premature; he was not mistaken. There needed that His Lord should lay down His life for Peter’s sake; and then He had a right to turn to the apostle and say, ‘Thou shalt follow Me afterwards,’ and ‘lay down thy life for My sake.’ The ground of Christ’s unique claim is Christ’s solitary sacrifice. He who has died for men, and He only, has the right to require the unconditional, the absolute surrender of themselves, not only in the sacrifice of a life that is submitted, but, if circumstances demand, in the sacrifice of a death. The ground of the requirement is laid, first in the fact of our Lord’s divine nature, and second, in the fact that He who asks my life has first of all given His.

But that same phrase, ‘for My sake,’ suggests-

III. The all-sufficient motive which makes such a loss of life possible.

I suppose that there is nothing else that will wholly dethrone self but the enthroning of Jesus Christ. That dominion is too deeply rooted to be abolished by any enthusiasms, however noble they may be, except the one that kindles its undying torch at the flame of Christ’s own love. God forbid that I should deny that wonderful and lovely instances of self-oblivion may be found in hearts untouched by the supreme love of Christ! But whilst I recognise all the beauty of such, I, for my part, humbly venture to believe and assert that, for the entire deliverance of a man from self-regard, the one sufficient motive power is the reception into his opening heart of the love of Jesus Christ.

Ah! brethren, you and I know how hard it is to escape from the tyrannous dominion of self, and how the evil spirits that have taken possession of us mock at all lesser charms than the name which ‘devils fear and fly’; ‘the Name that is above every name.’ We have tried other motives. We have sought to reprove our selfishness by other considerations. Human love-which itself is sometimes only the love of self, seeking satisfaction from another-human love does conquer it, but yet conquers it partially. The demons turn round upon all other would-be exorcists, and say, ‘Jesus we know . . . but who are ye?’ It is only when the Ark is carried into the Temple that Dagon falls prone before it. If you would drive self out of your hearts-and if you do not it will slay you-if you would drive self out, let Christ’s love and sacrifice come in. And then, what no brooms and brushes, no spades nor wheelbarrows, will ever do-namely, cleanse out the filth that lodges there-the turning of the river in will do, and float it all away. The one possibility for complete, conclusive deliverance from the dominion and tyranny of Self is to be found in the words ‘For My sake.’ Ah! brethren, I suppose there are none of us so poor in earthly love, possessed or remembered, but that we know the omnipotence of these words when whispered by beloved lips, ‘For My sake’; and Jesus Christ is saying them to us all.

IV. Lastly, notice the recompense of the stringent requirement.

‘Shall find it,’ and that finding, like the losing, has a twofold reference and accomplishment: here and now, yonder and then.

Here and now, no man possesses himself till he has given himself to Jesus Christ. Only then, when we put the reins into His hands, can we coerce and guide the fiery steeds of passion and of impulse, And so Scripture, in more than one place, uses a remarkable expression, when it speaks of those that believe to the ‘acquiring of their souls.’ You are not your own masters until you are Christ’s servants; and when you fancy yourselves to be most entirely your own masters, you have promised yourselves liberty and have become the slave of corruption. So if you would own yourselves, give yourselves away. And such an one ‘shall find’ his life, here and now, in that all earthly things will be sweeter and better. The altar sanctifies the gift. When some pebble is plunged into a sunlit stream, the water brings out the veined colourings of the stone that looked all dull and dim when it was lying upon the bank. Fling your whole being, your wealth, your activities, and everything, into that stream, and they will flash in splendour else unknown. Did not my friend, of whom I have been speaking, enjoy his wealth far more, when he poured it out like water upon good causes, than if he had spent it in luxury and self-indulgence? And shall we not find that everything is sweeter, nobler, better, fuller of capacity to delight, if we give it all to our Master? The stringent requirement of Christ is the perfection of prudence. ‘Who pleasure follows pleasure slays,’ and who slays pleasure finds a deeper and a holier delight. The keenest epicureanism could devise no better means for sucking the last drop of sweetness out of the clustering grapes of the gladnesses of earth than to obey this stringent requirement, and so realise the blessed promise, ‘Whoso loseth his life for My sake shall find it.’ The selfish man is a roundabout fool. The self-devoted man, the Christ-enthroning man, is the wise man.

And there will be the further finding hereafter, about which we cannot speak. Only remember, how in a passage parallel with this of my text, spoken when almost within sight of Calvary, our Lord laid down not only the principle of His own life but the principle for all His servants, when He said, ‘Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.’ The solitary grain dropped into the furrow brings forth a waving harvest. We may not, we need not, particularise, but the life that is found at last is as the fruit an hundredfold of the life that men called ‘lost’ and God called ‘sown.’

‘Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord; they rest from their labours, and their works do follow them.’

1  Preached after the funeral of Mr. F. W. Crossley.

Matthew 10:39-42. He that findeth his life shall lose it — He that saves his life by denying me shall lose it eternally; and he that loses his life by confessing me shall save it eternally. Or, as Macknight expresses it, “He that makes shipwreck of faith and a good conscience to save his life, shall lose that which is really his life — his everlasting happiness; whereas, he that maintaineth integrity at the expense of life, and all its enjoyments, shall find what is infinitely better — a blessed immortality.” It is justly observed by Campbell, that there is a kind of a paronomasia in the sentence, whereby the same word is used in different senses, in such a manner as to convey the sentiment with greater energy to the attentive. “He who, by making a sacrifice of his duty, preserves temporal life, shall lose eternal life; and contrariwise.” The trope has a beauty in the original which we cannot give it in a version: the word ψυχη being equivocal, and signifying both life and soul, and consequently being much better fitted for exhibiting, with entire perspicuity, the two meanings, than the English word life. The Syro- Chaldaic, which was the language then spoken in Palestine, had, in this respect, the same advantage with the Greek. He that receiveth you receiveth me — And as you shall be thus rewarded, so, in proportion, shall they who entertain you for my sake. He that receiveth a prophet in the name of a prophet — That is, because he is such, shall receive a prophet’s reward — Shall have a reward like that conferred on a prophet. It is evident, that by a prophet here is meant, not merely one that foretels future events, but a minister of God in general. And the word δεχομαι, rendered receive, plainly signifies here to entertain in an hospitable way, as it does also Hebrews 11:31; James 2:25, &c. Nor can the gradation, in the following words, be understood without such an interpretation, for Jesus descends here from a prophet to a righteous man, and from a righteous man to a disciple, termed a little one, that is, any believer, however poor, mean, and contemptible in the world. It must be observed, that what renders the good works here mentioned valuable in the sight of God, and procures them a recompense from him, is their being done out of regard for him and his blessed Son. By the rewards here promised, Le Clerc understands the happiness of heaven, paraphrasing the worsts thus: “He that showeth kindness to a prophet, on account of his mission and doctrine, or to a righteous man, on account of his righteousness, especially if by so doing he exposes himself to persecution, shall be as highly rewarded as that righteous man or prophet shall be; nay, he who doth any good office whatever to the meanest of my disciples, though it should be but the small service of handing a cup of cold water to them, shall not go unrewarded,” that is, if he shall give it to him in the name of a disciple, or with a real affection to him, on account of his relation to me. This seems to be the true interpretation of the passage. Thus also Dr. Hammond, “How great soever your persecutions are, and how dangerous soever it be to profess to be a follower of Christ, yet shall no man have reason to fear the entertaining of you; for the same protection which awaits you, and the same reward that attends you, shall await them that receive you. It shall be as if they had entertained, not only angels, but Christ and God himself. He that doth support, and enable a prophet to do His work that sent him, shall receive the same reward that he should if himself had been sent to prophesy.” This, “as it is a great incitement to others to express their kindness to Christ’s ministers and faithful servants, so is it also to his ministers to apply themselves to his service with a ready mind, and with the utmost diligence in the execution of their pastoral office.” — Whitby.

10:16-42 Our Lord warned his disciples to prepare for persecution. They were to avoid all things which gave advantage to their enemies, all meddling with worldly or political concerns, all appearance of evil or selfishness, and all underhand measures. Christ foretold troubles, not only that the troubles might not be a surprise, but that they might confirm their faith. He tells them what they should suffer, and from whom. Thus Christ has dealt fairly and faithfully with us, in telling us the worst we can meet with in his service; and he would have us deal so with ourselves, in sitting down and counting the cost. Persecutors are worse than beasts, in that they prey upon those of their own kind. The strongest bonds of love and duty, have often been broken through from enmity against Christ. Sufferings from friends and relations are very grievous; nothing cuts more. It appears plainly, that all who will live godly in Christ Jesus must suffer persecution; and we must expect to enter into the kingdom of God through many tribulations. With these predictions of trouble, are counsels and comforts for a time of trial. The disciples of Christ are hated and persecuted as serpents, and their ruin is sought, and they need the serpent's wisdom. Be ye harmless as doves. Not only, do nobody any hurt, but bear nobody any ill-will. Prudent care there must be, but not an anxious, perplexing thought; let this care be cast upon God. The disciples of Christ must think more how to do well, than how to speak well. In case of great peril, the disciples of Christ may go out of the way of danger, though they must not go out of the way of duty. No sinful, unlawful means may be used to escape; for then it is not a door of God's opening. The fear of man brings a snare, a perplexing snare, that disturbs our peace; an entangling snare, by which we are drawn into sin; and, therefore, it must be striven and prayed against. Tribulation, distress, and persecution cannot take away God's love to them, or theirs to him. Fear Him, who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. They must deliver their message publicly, for all are deeply concerned in the doctrine of the gospel. The whole counsel of God must be made known, Ac 20:27. Christ shows them why they should be of good cheer. Their sufferings witnessed against those who oppose his gospel. When God calls us to speak for him, we may depend on him to teach us what to say. A believing prospect of the end of our troubles, will be of great use to support us under them. They may be borne to the end, because the sufferers shall be borne up under them. The strength shall be according to the day. And it is great encouragement to those who are doing Christ's work, that it is a work which shall certainly be done. See how the care of Providence extends to all creatures, even to the sparrows. This should silence all the fears of God's people; Ye are of more value than many sparrows. And the very hairs of your head are all numbered. This denotes the account God takes and keeps of his people. It is our duty, not only to believe in Christ, but to profess that faith, in suffering for him, when we are called to it, as well as in serving him. That denial of Christ only is here meant which is persisted in, and that confession only can have the blessed recompence here promised, which is the real and constant language of faith and love. Religion is worth every thing; all who believe the truth of it, will come up to the price, and make every thing else yield to it. Christ will lead us through sufferings, to glory with him. Those are best prepared for the life to come, that sit most loose to this present life. Though the kindness done to Christ's disciples be ever so small, yet if there be occasion for it, and ability to do no more, it shall be accepted. Christ does not say that they deserve a reward; for we cannot merit any thing from the hand of God; but they shall receive a reward from the free gift of God. Let us boldly confess Christ, and show love to him in all things.He that findeth his life ... - The word "life" in this passage is used evidently in two senses. The meaning may be expressed thus: He that is anxious to save his "temporal" life, or his comfort and security here, shall lose "eternal" life, or shall fail of heaven. He that is willing to risk or lose his comfort and "life" here for my sake, shall find "life" everlasting, or shall be saved. The manner of speaking is similar to that where he said, "Let the dead bury their dead." See notes at Matthew 8:22. 39. He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it—another of those pregnant sayings which our Lord so often reiterates (Mt 16:25; Lu 17:33; Joh 12:25). The pith of such paradoxical maxims depends on the double sense attached to the word "life"—a lower and a higher, the natural and the spiritual, the temporal and eternal. An entire sacrifice of the lower, with all its relationships and interests—or, a willingness to make it which is the same thing—is indispensable to the preservation of the higher life; and he who cannot bring himself to surrender the one for the sake of the other shall eventually lose both. John 12:25, giveth us a commentary upon these words thus, He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal. He in this text is said to find his life, who thinks that he hath found, that is, saved it, who is so much in love with his life that, rather than he will lose it, he will lose God’s favour, deny the Lord that brought him, deny the most fundamental truths of the gospel. The man that doth thus (saith Christ) shall lose it; possibly he shall not obtain the end he aims at here, but if he doth he shall lose eternal life. When, on the contrary, he that is valiant for the truth shall sometimes be preserved, notwithstanding his enemies’ rage; but if this happens not, yet he shall have life eternal, his mortality shall be swallowed up in life.

He that findeth his life shall lose it,.... That man that seeks to preserve his life, and the temporal enjoyments of it, by a sinful compliance with his friends and the world, and by a denial of Christ, or non-confession of him; if he is not, by the providence of God, deprived of the good things of life, and dies a shameful death, both which are sometimes the case of such persons; yet he is sure to lose the happy and eternal life of his soul and body, in the world to come: so that the present finding of life, or the possession of it, on such sinful terms, will in the issue prove an infinite and irreparable loss unto him. On the other hand, Christ observes,

he that loseth his life for my sake, shall find it. That man that is willing to forego the present advantages of life, to suffer reproach and persecution, and lay down his life cheerfully for the sake of Christ and his Gospel, for the profession of his name, rather than drop, deny, conceal, or neglect any truth and ordinance of his, shall find his soul possessed of eternal life, as soon as separated from his body; and shall find his corporal life again, in the resurrection morn, to great advantage; and shall live with Christ in soul and body, in the utmost happiness, to all eternity.

He that {p} findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.

(p) They are said to find their life, who deliver it out of danger: and this is spoken against the opinion of the people, who think those that die are certainly lost, because they think not of the life to come.