Confessing Evangelical

Henric Schartau's sermon, "Jesus Only", plays a pivotal role in the second part of The Hammer of God (see earlier post). The young pastor, Fridfeldt, driven increasingly to despair by the continuing sin in his own heart and in the lives of his fellow "believers", has his perspective transformed when (having run out of time to prepare his own sermon) he preaches Schartau's sermon for Transfiguration Day.

The sermon is on the text from the end of St Matthew's account of the transfiguration: Lifting up their eyes, they saw no one, save Jesus only. The sermon then goes on to show how, whether in our awakening, our justification or our sanctification, we are at all times to look not to ourselves, but to Jesus only. As a taster for the full sermon (which isn't that long, and is well worth reading), here's an extract from the introduction:

When a sinner first opens the eyes of his understanding, they are turned down upon his unsaved soul and lost condition ... The law enjoins men to look especially upon themselves. It urges them to compare their depravity with God's holiness, and their guilt with His righteousness. The Holy Spirit, however, thereupon lifts the eye of their understanding to Jesus only . The glory of Christ, emanating from the words of the gospel, enlightens their heart and attracts their thoughts to Jesus, while the love of God revealed in His promises comforts their frightened heart and gives them courage to turn to Jesus.

It is blessed when a believing soul looks in the Scriptures for Jesus only. He is the center and essential part of the word, and the Scriptures bear testimony of Him. When therefore the soul has learned to consider everything in the Word of God as leading to Jesus or derived from Him, then its searching has discovered the true treasure and the costly pearl.

It is a blessed thing when the believing soul in prayer fixes his uplifted eyes of faith upon Jesus only, not looking about for his dispersed thoughts, nor backward upon Satan, who threatens with the assertion that the prayers are to no avail, nor inwardly upon his own slothfulness and slight devotion, but above himself to Jesus, "who is at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us."

That last paragraph is especially helpful: how easy it is in our prayers to despair as we see our distractedness and half-heartedness. Like King Claudius in Hamlet we say, "My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: Words without thoughts never to heaven go" - a couplet that's been haunting me ever since I saw a production of Hamlet a couple of weeks ago.

As good evangelical Christians, we'd never be so crass as to say our salvation depends on our efforts, but surely our prayers need to be truly made with a true and steadfast faith, earnestly and without doubting (as St James tells us)? How can God then hear our doubting, half-hearted prayers? The Gospel tells us to lift up our eyes away from our own doubting heart, to Jesus only.

Another wonderful section from this sermon comes at the end:

When you have found Him and in Him righteousness and strength, when His righteousness is your support in temptations, when His might is your succor, lo, then you have enough in Him, for you have all in Him. If then it should ever happen that you, like the first disciples, should in spirit see somewhat of His glory and "taste the powers of the age to come," and if this glory should thereupon disappear, then do not look for Moses or Elias, but be content with the grace granted to those early disciples of whom we read, "When they lifted their eyes, they saw no one, save Jesus only."

That is a very acutely-observed point. We have a wonderful, uplifting spiritual experience; it is as if we saw His glory and tasted the powers of the age to come; as if we were lifted up to the third heaven. But then the cloud lifts, the glory fades, life returns to normal, and our sins return with a vengeance also.

At those times, as we seek to recover that earlier experience, it is especially tempting to look to Moses or Elijah: to Moses, the Law, to the call to "reconsecrate" ourselves, to scrape out our innards and repent of "every known sin", that God might bless us again. Or to Elijah, to prophecy: to fresh revelations, fresh "words of knowledge", fresh experiences of the Spirit's immediate work in our lives. Both these paths are likely to end, ultimately, in either self-delusion or despair.

But again, the Gospel - as so wonderfully proclaimed to us by this 18th century pastor - tells us to lift up our eyes, to Jesus only, as He is presented to us in the seemingly drab and mundane means of Word and Sacrament.