Sermon 3. Apostolic Abstinence a Pattern for
Christians 
"Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy
stomach's sake, and thine often infirmities." 1 Tim. v. 23.
[Note] {26} THIS is a remarkable verse,
because it accidentally tells us so much. It is addressed to Timothy,
St. Paul's companion, the first Bishop of Ephesus. Of Timothy we know
very little, except that he did minister to St. Paul, and hence we might
have inferred that he was a man of very saintly character; but we
know little or nothing of him, except that he had been from a child a
careful reader of Scripture. This indeed, by itself, in that Apostolic
age, would have led us to infer, that he had risen to some great height
in spiritual excellence; though it must be confessed that instances are
frequent at this day, of persons knowing the Bible well, and yet being
little stricter than others in their lives, for all their knowledge.
Timothy, however, had so read the Old Testament, and had so heard from
St. Paul the New, that he was a true follower of the Apostle, as the
{27} Apostle was of Christ: St. Paul accordingly calls him "my own
son," or "my true son in the faith." And elsewhere he
says to the Philippians, that he has "no man like-minded to
Timothy, who would naturally" or truly "care for their
state." [Phil. ii. 20.] But still, after all, this is but a general
account of him, and we seem to desire something more definite in the way
of description, beyond merely knowing that he was a great saint, which
conveys no clear impression to the mind. Now, in the text we have
accidentally a glimpse given us of his mode of life. St. Paul does not
expressly tell us that he was a man of mortified habits; but he reveals
the fact indirectly by cautioning him against an excess of
mortification. "Drink no longer water," he says, "but use
a little wine." It should be observed, that wine, in the southern
countries, is the same ordinary beverage that beer is here; it is
nothing strong or costly. Yet even from such as this, Timothy was in the
habit of abstaining, and restricting himself to water; and, as the
Apostle thought, imprudently, to the increase of his "often
infirmities."
There is something very striking in this accidental mention of the
private ways of this Apostolical Bishop. We know indeed from history the
doctrine and the life of the great saints, who lived some time after the
Apostles' age; but we are naturally anxious to know something more of
the Apostles themselves, and their associates. We say, "Oh that we
could speak to St. Paul,—that we could see him in his daily walk, and
hear his oral and familiar teaching!—that we could ask him what he
{28} meant by this expression in his Epistles, or what he thought of this or
the other doctrine." This is not given to us. God might give us
greater light than He does; but it is His gracious will to give us the
less. Yet perhaps much more is given us in Scripture, as it has come to
us, than we think, if our eyes were enlightened to discern it there.
Such, for instance, is the text; it is a sudden revelation, a glimpse of
the personal character of Apostolic Christians; it is a hint which we
may follow out. For no one will deny that a very great deal of doctrine,
and a very great deal of precept, goes with such a fact as this; viz.
that this holy man, without impiously disparaging God's creation, and
thanklessly rejecting God's gifts, yet, on the whole, lived a life of
abstinence.
I cannot at all understand why such a life is not excellent in a
Christian now, if it was the characteristic of Apostles, and friends of
Apostles, then. I really do not see why the trials and persecutions,
which environed them from Jews and Gentiles, their forlorn despised
state, and their necessary discomforts, should not even have exempted
them from voluntary sufferings in addition, unless such self-imposed
hardships were pleasing to Christ. Yet we find that St. Paul, like
Timothy, who (as the Apostle says) had known "his doctrine and
manner of life," [2 Tim. iii. 10.] I say, St. Paul also, in
addition to his "weariness and painfulness," "hunger and
thirst," "cold and nakedness," was "in watchings
often," "in fastings often." Such were holy men of old
time. How {29} far are we below them! Alas for our easy sensual life, our
cowardice, our sloth! is this the way by which the kingdom of heaven is
won? is this the way that St. Paul fought a good fight, and finished his
course? or was it by putting behind his back all things on earth, and
looking stedfastly towards Him who is invisible?
Now at first sight it may not be clear why this moderation, and at
least occasional abstinence, in the use of God's gifts, should be so
great a duty, as our Lord, for instance, seems to imply, when He places
fasting in so prominent a place in the Sermon on the Mount, with
almsgiving and prayer. But thus much we are able to see, that the great
duty of the Gospel is love to God and man; and that this love is
quenched and extinguished by self-indulgence, and cherished by
self-denial. They who enjoy this life freely, make it or self their
idol; they are gross-hearted, and have no eyes to see God withal. Hence
it is said, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see
God." [Matt. v. 8.] And again, it was the rich man who fared
sumptuously every day, who neglected Lazarus; for sensual living hardens
the heart, while abstinence softens and refines it. Now, observe, I do
not mean that abstinence produces this effect as a matter of course in
any given person,—else all the poor ought to be patterns of Christian
love,—but that where men are religiously-minded, there those out of
the number will make greater attainments in love and devotional feeling,
who do exercise themselves in self-denial of the body. I should really
be disposed {30} to say,—You must make your choice, you must in some way or
another deny the flesh, or you cannot possess Christian love. Love is no
common grace in its higher degrees. It is true, indeed, that, as being
the necessary token of every true Christian, it must be possessed in
some degree even by the weakest and humblest of Christ's servants—but
in any of its higher and maturer stages, it is rare and difficult. It is
easy to be amiable or upright; it is easy to live in regular habits;—it
is easy to live conscientiously, in the common sense of the word. I say,
all this is comparatively easy; but one thing is needful, and one thing
is often lacking,—love. We may act rightly, yet without doing our
right actions from the love of God. Other motives, short of love, are
good in themselves; these we may have, and not have love. Now I do not
think that this defect arises from any one cause, or can be removed by
any one remedy; and yet still, it does seem as if abstinence and fasting
availed much towards its removal; so much so, that, granting love is
necessary, then these are necessary; assuming love to be the
characteristic of a Christian, so is abstinence. You may think to
dispense with fasting; true; and you may neglect also to cultivate love.
And here a connexion may be traced between the truth I have been
insisting on, and our Lord's words, when asked why His disciples did not
fast. He said, that they could not fast while the Bridegroom was with
them; but that when He was taken from them, then they would fast. The
one thing, which is all in all to us, is to live in Christ's presence;
to hear His voice, to see His countenance. His first disciples had Him
in {31} bodily presence among them; and He spoke to them, warned them, was a
pattern to them, and guided them with His eye. But when He withdrew
Himself from the world of sense, how should they see Him still? When
their fleshly eyes and ears saw Him no more, when He had ascended
whither flesh and blood cannot enter, and the barrier of the flesh was
interposed between Him and them, how should they any longer see and hear
Him? "Lord, whither goest Thou?" they said; and He answered to
Peter, "Whither I go thou canst not follow Me now, but thou shalt
follow Me afterwards." They were to follow Him through the veil,
and to break the barrier of the flesh after His pattern. They must, as
far as they could, weaken and attenuate what stood between them and Him;
they must anticipate that world where flesh and blood are not; they must
discern truths which flesh and blood could not reveal; they must live a
life, not of sense, but of spirit; they must practise those
mortifications which former religions had enjoined, which the Pharisees
and John's disciples observed, with better fruit, for a higher end, in a
more heavenly way, in order to see Him who is invisible. By fasting,
Moses saw God's glory; by fasting, Elijah heard the "still small
voice;" by fasting, Christ's disciples were to express their
mourning over the Crucified and Dead, over the Bridegroom taken away:
but that mourning would bring Him back, that mourning would be turned to
joy; in that mourning they would see Him, they would hear of Him, again;
they would see Him, as they mourned and wept. And while they mourned, so
long would they see Him and {32} rejoice—for "blessed are they that
mourn, for they shall be comforted;" they are "sorrowful, yet
always rejoicing;" hungering and thirsting after and unto
righteousness,—fasting in body, that their soul may hunger and thirst
after its true good; fasting in body, that they may be satisfied in
spirit; in a "barren and dry land, where no water is," [Ps.
lxiii. 2.] that they may look for Him in holiness, and behold His power
and glory. "My heart is smitten down, and withered like grass (says
the Psalmist), so that I forget to eat my bread. For the voice of my
groaning, my bones will scarce cleave to my flesh. I am become like a
pelican in the wilderness, and like an owl that is in the desert. I have
watched, and am even as a sparrow that sitteth alone upon the
house-top." "All day long have I been punished, and chastened
every morning." And what was the consequence? "Nevertheless, I
am alway by Thee: for Thou hast holden me by my right hand. Thou shalt
guide me with Thy counsel, and after that receive me with glory. Whom
have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire in
comparison of Thee? My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the
strength of my heart, and my portion for ever." [Ps. cii. 4-7;
lxxiii. 13, 22-25.]
Such was the portion which St. Paul and St. Timothy received, when
they gave up this world and its blessings; not that they might not have
enjoyed them had they chosen; but because they might, and yet gave them
up, therefore they received blessings out of sight instead. {33} And in like
manner, applying this to ourselves, it is our duty also to be ever
moderate, and at times to abstain, in the use of God's earthly gifts;
nay, happy is it for us, if God's secret grace call us on, as it called
St. Paul and Timothy, to a more divine and tranquil life than that of
the multitude. It is our duty to war against the flesh as they warred
against it, that we may inherit the gifts of the Spirit as they
inherited them. If Saints are our patterns, this surely means that we
must copy them.
Here, however, it may be objected, that there is presumption in
wishing to be what Apostles and their associates were. That they had
high spiritual gifts which we have not, and that to attempt their life
without these, is all one with attempting to work such miracles as they
did, which any one would grant to be presumptuous. There is much
truth in such a remark so far as this, that to attempt at once
all they did would be presumptuous; we can but put ourselves in the
way. God gives second and third gifts to those who improve the first;
let us improve the first, and then we know not how high may be the
spiritual faculties which at length He will give us. Who is there, who,
on setting out on a journey, sees before him his destination? How often,
when a person is making for a place which he has never seen, he says to
himself, that he cannot believe that at a certain time he really will be
there? There is nothing in what he at present sees, which conveys to him
the assurance of the future; and yet, in time, that future will be
present. So is it as regards our spiritual course: we know not what we
shall be; but begin it, and, at {34} length, by God's grace, you will end it;
not, indeed, with the grace He now has given, but by fresh and fresh
grace, fuller and fuller, increased according to your need. Thus you
will end, if you do but begin; but begin not with the end;
begin with the beginning; mount up the heavenly ladder step by step.
Fasting is a duty; but we ought to fast according to our strength. God
requires nothing of us beyond our strength; but the utmost according to
our strength. "She has done what she could," was His word of
commendation to Mary. Now, to forget or to miss this truth, is very
common with beginners, even through mere ignorance or inadvertence. They
know not what they can do, and what they cannot, as not having yet tried
themselves. And then, when what they hoped was easy, proves a great deal
too much for them, they fail, and then are dispirited. They wound their
conscience, as being unable to fulfil their own resolves, and they are
reduced to a kind of despair; or they are tempted to be reckless, and to
give up all endeavours whatever to obey God, because they are not strong
enough for every thing. And thus it often happens, that men rush from
one extreme to another; and even profess themselves free to live without
any rule of self-government at all, after having professed great
strictness, or even extravagance, in their mode of living.
This applies of course to all duties whatever. We should be very much
on our guard, when we are engaged in contemplating the lives of holy
men, against attempting just what they did; which might be right indeed
in them, and yet may be wrong in us. Holy men may {35} say and do things
which we have no right to say and do. Profession by word of mouth,
religious language, rebuking others, and the like, may be natural and
proper in them, and forced and out of place in us. We ought to attempt
nothing but what we can do. There is a kind of inward feeling which
often tells us what we have a right to do, and what we have not. We have
often a kind of misgiving, as if what we are tempted to do does not
really belong to us. Let us carefully attend to this inward voice. This
applies especially to our devotions: common men have no right to use the
prayers which advanced Christians use without offending; and if they
attempt it, they become unreal; an offence which all persons, who
have any faith and reverence, will endeavour earnestly to avoid. But if
we will thus commence our religious course, it is certain we shall soon
get tired of it; we shall give it up; and our devotional feelings will
thus be shown, by the event, to have been but a fashion or an impulse,
which has no true excellence in it.
And here I will observe, what may be of use even to those who are
most cautious and prudent in their mode of conducting their
self-denials, supposing they have seasons in which they practise them,
such as Lent ought to be to all of us. Be very much on your guard
against a reaction to a careless way of life after Lent is over. It is a
caution commonly and usefully given, that after a day of fasting
we should not, when we break our fast, eat unduly; now I am giving a
similar warning concerning a season of abstinence, and not only
as regards eating largely, but against all laxity and self-indulgence.
In {36} Lent, serious thoughts are brought more regularly before the mind.
The rule of abstinence which we adopt, however slight it may be in
itself, acts as a continual restraint and memento upon us in other
things. We cannot range at will through the field of thinking and
wishing. We are more frequent also in prayer. And especially, if we feel
ourselves able to be strict in our fast, the weakness of body consequent
on it is an additional check upon us. Let us beware, then, lest, when
this time is over, and Easter comes, we fall back into a lawless state
of mind, and a random life, as if God's paradise were some Judaical
heaven, where we might indulge ourselves the more freely in this world's
goods, for having renounced them for a while. This grievous consequence
is said actually to happen in some foreign countries, in the case of the
multitude, who never will have a deep and consistent devotion while the
world lasts; and we should be much on our guard, lest it happens to us
in our degree. It will be a sad thought for remembrance hereafter, if we
shall find after all, that we have undone what was right and profitable
in our Lent exercises by a relapse in Easter-tide.
This, however, may be added for our encouragement, that to abstain
for any length of time is the beginning of a habit; and we may trust,
that what we have begun will continue, or tend to continue. And even
though, through our frailty, we fall back (which God forbid!), yet we
shall find our self-denials easier next Lent. Nay, as I just now said,
we shall be able to do more. Self-denial will become natural to us. We
shall feel no desire for those indulgences, whether animal or mental,
{37} which savour of this world; and our tastes and likings will begin to be
formed upon a heavenly rule. To those who are accustomed to
self-denials, it is more painful to indulge than to abstain, as every
one of common self-control must know, from ordinary matters of his own
experience. Persons in the humbler ranks, of unrefined minds, look up to
the rich, and wonder they do not do this or that, which they
would do for certain, had they the like means. The reason is, that these
rich persons, having a more perfect education, have too much taste and
sense of propriety, even though religion should be absent, to use their
wealth in what may be called a barbarian way. Now the same dislike of
self-indulgence, in all its shapes, is matured, under God's grace, in
the souls of those who seek Him in the way of austerity. Timothy had to
be reminded by St. Paul to use a little wine; for to drink wine was a
trouble to Timothy, as putting him (to use a common phrase) out of his
way. He was happy in his own way. All men have each his own way, and
they wonder at one another. Each looks down upon his neighbour, because
his neighbour does not like the very things he likes himself. We look
down on foreigners, because their way is not ours. Happy he whose way is
God's way; when he is used to it, it is as easy as any other way—nay,
much easier, for God's service is perfect freedom, whereas Satan is a
cruel taskmaster.
To conclude, let those who attempt to make this Lent profitable to
their souls, by such observances as have ever been in use at this season
since Christianity was, beware lest they lose this world without gaining
the next;—for instance, as I said just now, by relapsing. {38} Or again, by
observing what is in itself right in a cold and formal manner. We can
use the means, but it is God alone who blesses them. He alone turns the
stones into bread, and brings water from the hard rock. He can turn all
things into nourishment, but He alone can do so. Let us pray Him to
bless what we venture for Him, that we may not only labour, but may
receive our wages, and gather fruit unto life eternal. This world is a
very little thing to give up for the next. Yet, if we give it up in
heart and conversation, we shall gain the next. Let us aim at the
consistent habit of mind, of looking towards God, and rejoicing in the
glory which shall be revealed. In that case, whether we eat or drink, or
abstain, or whatever we do, we shall do all unto Him. Let us aim at
being true heirs of the promise; let us humbly aspire to be His elect,
in whom He delighteth, holy and undefiled, "blameless and harmless,
the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse
nation," among whom we may shine "as lights in the world,
holding forth the word of life."
Top | Contents | Works
| Home
Note
Lent.
Return to text
Top | Contents | Works
| Home
Newman Reader Works of John Henry Newman
Copyright © 2007 by The National Institute for Newman Studies. All rights reserved.
|