THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD
‘Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.’
Luke 13:3; Luke 13:5
The murder of the Galilæans is an event of which we know nothing certain. The motives of those who told our Lord of the event we are left to conjecture. At any rate, they gave Him an opportunity of speaking to them about their own souls. He bade His informants look within, and think of their own state before God. He seems to say, ‘What though these Galilæans did die a sudden death? What is that to you? Consider your own ways. Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.’
I. People are much more ready to talk of the deaths of others than their own.—The death of the Galilæans, mentioned here, was probably a common subject of conversation in Jerusalem and all Judæa. It is just the same in the present day. A murder, a sudden death, a shipwreck, or a railway accident, will completely occupy the minds of a neighbourhood, and be in the mouth of every one you meet. And yet these very persons dislike talking of their own deaths and their own prospects in the world beyond the grave. Such is human nature in every age. In religion, men are ready to talk of anybody’s business rather than their own.
II. Our Lord lays down the universal necessity of repentance.—Twice He declares emphatically, ‘Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.’ The truth here asserted is one of the foundations of Christianity. If we have already repented in time past, let us go on repenting to the end of our lives. There will always be sins to confess and infirmities to deplore, so long as we are in the body. Let us repent more deeply, and humble ourselves more thoroughly, every year. Let every returning birthday find us hating sin more, and loving Christ more. He was a wise old saint who said, ‘I hope to carry my repentance to the very gate of heaven.’
Illustration
‘It is evident that our Lord’s informants were filled with the vulgar opinion that sudden deaths were special judgments, and that if a man died suddenly he must have committed some special sin. Our Lord bids them understand that this opinion was a mere baseless delusion. We have no right whatever to conclude that God is angry with a man because He removes him suddenly from the world. Ford gives a quotation from Perkins which deserves reading: “The common opinion is, that if a man die quietly, and go away like a lamb (which in some diseases, as consumption, any man may do), then he goes straight to heaven. But if the violence of the disease stirs up impatience, and causes frantic behaviour, then men use to say, ‘There is a judgment of God, serving either to discover a hypocrite or to plague a wicked man.’ But the truth is otherwise.—A man may die like a lamb, and yet go to hell; and one dying in exceeding torment and strange behaviour of body, may go to heaven.” ’
(SECOND OUTLINE)
THE GALILÆANS’ WARNINGS
Our Lord does not say, Those Galilæans were not sinners at all. Their sins had nothing to do with their death. Those on whom the tower fell were innocent men. We know nothing of the circumstances of either calamity.
I. The warning to the Jewish nation.—This we know, that our Lord warned the rest of the Jews that unless they repented they would all perish in the same way. And we know that that warning was fulfilled within forty years, so hideously and so awfully that the destruction of Jerusalem remains as one of the most terrible cases of wholesale ruin and horror recorded in history.
II. The warning to individuals.—These Galilæans were no worse than the other Galilæans; yet they were singled out as examples, as warnings, to the rest. Pestilences, conflagrations, accidents of any kind which destroy life wholesale, even earthquakes and storms, are instances of this law; warnings from God, judgments of God, in the very strictest sense; by which He tells men, in a voice awful enough to the few, but merciful and beneficent to the many, to be prudent and wise.
III. The warning to evil systems.—The more we read, in histories, of the fall of great dynasties, or of the ruin of whole classes or whole nations, the more we feel—however much we may acquiesce with the judgment as a whole—sympathy with the fallen. It is not the worst, but often the best specimens of a class or of a system who are swallowed up by the moral earthquake which has been accumulating its force, perhaps, for centuries. May not the reason be that God has wished to condemn, not the persons, but their systems? that He has punished them, not for their private, but for their public faults?
—Rev. F. D. Maurice.
Illustration
‘The folly and uncharitableness of mankind are in nothing more clearly seen than in their disposition to blame every one who is unfortunate, and to think themselves surely in the right as long as they are prosperous. “While he lived,” said the Psalmist of the worldly-minded, “he counted himself an happy man; and so long as thou doest well unto thyself men will speak good of thee.” On the other hand, let one be smitten with disease or poverty, he shall never want some to ascribe his sufferings to the intemperance of his youth, to his extravagance, carelessness, or vicious indulgences while he had money, or to the judgments of God on his covetousness and want of generosity. And yet every day’s experience proves, both in public and private life, that the wisest of us is deceived, and the best man disappointed in three out of four of his worldly hopes and expectations. The reason of this is, that the present life is a state of trial, and not of reward and punishment; and the use to be made of it is, that the afflicted learn patience, the prosperous godly fear, and all men charity and candour in judging of others.’

THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD
‘Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.’
Luke 13:3; Luke 13:5
The murder of the Galilæans is an event of which we know nothing certain. The motives of those who told our Lord of the event we are left to conjecture. At any rate, they gave Him an opportunity of speaking to them about their own souls. He bade His informants look within, and think of their own state before God. He seems to say, ‘What though these Galilæans did die a sudden death? What is that to you? Consider your own ways. Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.’
I. People are much more ready to talk of the deaths of others than their own.—The death of the Galilæans, mentioned here, was probably a common subject of conversation in Jerusalem and all Judæa. It is just the same in the present day. A murder, a sudden death, a shipwreck, or a railway accident, will completely occupy the minds of a neighbourhood, and be in the mouth of every one you meet. And yet these very persons dislike talking of their own deaths and their own prospects in the world beyond the grave. Such is human nature in every age. In religion, men are ready to talk of anybody’s business rather than their own.
II. Our Lord lays down the universal necessity of repentance.—Twice He declares emphatically, ‘Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.’ The truth here asserted is one of the foundations of Christianity. If we have already repented in time past, let us go on repenting to the end of our lives. There will always be sins to confess and infirmities to deplore, so long as we are in the body. Let us repent more deeply, and humble ourselves more thoroughly, every year. Let every returning birthday find us hating sin more, and loving Christ more. He was a wise old saint who said, ‘I hope to carry my repentance to the very gate of heaven.’
Illustration
‘It is evident that our Lord’s informants were filled with the vulgar opinion that sudden deaths were special judgments, and that if a man died suddenly he must have committed some special sin. Our Lord bids them understand that this opinion was a mere baseless delusion. We have no right whatever to conclude that God is angry with a man because He removes him suddenly from the world. Ford gives a quotation from Perkins which deserves reading: “The common opinion is, that if a man die quietly, and go away like a lamb (which in some diseases, as consumption, any man may do), then he goes straight to heaven. But if the violence of the disease stirs up impatience, and causes frantic behaviour, then men use to say, ‘There is a judgment of God, serving either to discover a hypocrite or to plague a wicked man.’ But the truth is otherwise.—A man may die like a lamb, and yet go to hell; and one dying in exceeding torment and strange behaviour of body, may go to heaven.” ’
(SECOND OUTLINE)
THE GALILÆANS’ WARNINGS
Our Lord does not say, Those Galilæans were not sinners at all. Their sins had nothing to do with their death. Those on whom the tower fell were innocent men. We know nothing of the circumstances of either calamity.
I. The warning to the Jewish nation.—This we know, that our Lord warned the rest of the Jews that unless they repented they would all perish in the same way. And we know that that warning was fulfilled within forty years, so hideously and so awfully that the destruction of Jerusalem remains as one of the most terrible cases of wholesale ruin and horror recorded in history.
II. The warning to individuals.—These Galilæans were no worse than the other Galilæans; yet they were singled out as examples, as warnings, to the rest. Pestilences, conflagrations, accidents of any kind which destroy life wholesale, even earthquakes and storms, are instances of this law; warnings from God, judgments of God, in the very strictest sense; by which He tells men, in a voice awful enough to the few, but merciful and beneficent to the many, to be prudent and wise.
III. The warning to evil systems.—The more we read, in histories, of the fall of great dynasties, or of the ruin of whole classes or whole nations, the more we feel—however much we may acquiesce with the judgment as a whole—sympathy with the fallen. It is not the worst, but often the best specimens of a class or of a system who are swallowed up by the moral earthquake which has been accumulating its force, perhaps, for centuries. May not the reason be that God has wished to condemn, not the persons, but their systems? that He has punished them, not for their private, but for their public faults?
—Rev. F. D. Maurice.
Illustration
‘The folly and uncharitableness of mankind are in nothing more clearly seen than in their disposition to blame every one who is unfortunate, and to think themselves surely in the right as long as they are prosperous. “While he lived,” said the Psalmist of the worldly-minded, “he counted himself an happy man; and so long as thou doest well unto thyself men will speak good of thee.” On the other hand, let one be smitten with disease or poverty, he shall never want some to ascribe his sufferings to the intemperance of his youth, to his extravagance, carelessness, or vicious indulgences while he had money, or to the judgments of God on his covetousness and want of generosity. And yet every day’s experience proves, both in public and private life, that the wisest of us is deceived, and the best man disappointed in three out of four of his worldly hopes and expectations. The reason of this is, that the present life is a state of trial, and not of reward and punishment; and the use to be made of it is, that the afflicted learn patience, the prosperous godly fear, and all men charity and candour in judging of others.’

ONE MORE CHANCE
‘Lord, let it alone this year also.’
Luke 13:8
How very few of us ever stop to think of the great mercy and long-suffering of our God, Who spares our lives from day to day and year to year.
Let us resolve, as we stretch forth our hands into the hidden future, let us resolve to bring forth more holy fruit than we have done in the years now for ever gone.
I. The call to arise.—The stirring summons and the beautiful promise of St. Paul to the Ephesians should be ringing in our ears and touching our hearts: ‘Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.’ Sins and shortcomings of all kinds, especially those which through the power of the flesh would kill the spirit, must be left dead in the darkness of the past as we arise and come towards the light. I know thousands will say that, even when we have manfully resolved to let all that is unworthy die, it is not easy; nay, it is very hard. But remember, God shows us how to do it. As in the natural world there is no poison without an antidote, so in the spiritual world there is a God-sent antidote for the poison of sin (see Illustration). Sin is the poison which is death to the soul; the Cross of Christ is the certain cure. Kneel in penitence before the Cross, and the blood of the holy Victim cleanseth us from all sin.
II. The new light.—And He Who has the power to cleanse us from the sins of the past is the same Holy Friend Who gives the light to walk by in the present and in the future. ‘Christ shall give thee light.’ And we know full well by experience how sorely we shall need this light as the days and hours fly by. There are many enemies of the soul hidden as it were in the dark, but nevertheless striving to lead us into unclean paths, far, far away from all that is holy. There is that one great adversary, the devil: and it is only by the power of the light which Christ gives that we can detect his many devices to destroy our peace (see Illustration).
III. Light in the darkness.—Let us pray for this mighty gift.
( a) Some of us may have to feel bitterly the darkness that enshrouds the soul when it is wounded and bruised by an unexpected fall.
( b) Some of us may have to feel the darkness that falls upon the heart when one we love is taken away from earth, and the bitterness of bereavement cannot be sweetened by human power.
( c) And some may themselves have to hear the call, to lie down and die, and feel the darkness that hangs around the hour of death.
Whatever may be the nature of the darkness that is sure to come, the darkness of sin, of temptation, of bereavement, of sickness, of poverty, of death itself, there is but one light wherein we shall hope, and that is the light that Jesus gives.
Rev. W. E. Coghlan.
Illustrations
(1) ‘I have read somewhere that in the West Indies there is a tree which bears beautiful golden apples; they are enticing beyond measure to look at, but to eat they are deadly poison. When the natives used to go to war they would dip their arrows into the juice that their foes might meet with certain death. Now, wherever this tree is found there is always another close by, the juice of which, if used in time, is a certain cure.’
(2) ‘There is a story told of a hunter in a far-off land, who had to pass the weary hours of a dark night close to a wounded tiger. He dared not move a limb, for even when the leaves were stirred by the passing breeze he heard the hoarse growl of his fearful enemy. “Hours rolled on, and his powers of endurance were well-nigh exhausted; when at length the welcome streaks of light shot up from the eastern horizon. When the day dawned the tiger stalked away to a distant thicket, and the stiff and weary watcher felt that he was safe.” Thus it is with the beleagured soul; it is only in the light given by the Sun of Righteousness that our enemies can be put to flight.’

A PUZZLING QUESTION
‘Then said one unto Him, Lord, are there few that be saved?’
Luke 13:23
This question was put to Jesus by one who met with Him as He was journeying to Jerusalem. Yet it was not the question of that one inquirer alone. It has been asked by the heart, or the mind, or the lips, of men, from generation to generation.
I. A question of the lips.—Often it is a question but of the lips alone. ‘ Are there few that be saved?’ asks the frivolous trifler who has chanced for a moment to be within the sound of spiritual things, and utters the first question which a vain curiosity may suggest, or which he has caught from another’s lips; and then he passes on regardless of the answer, careless whether the saved be many or whether they be few, or whether there be, indeed, any salvation at all.
II. A question of the mind.—‘ Are there few that be saved?’ asks the religious controversialist, and he is already well prepared with an answer which is quite satisfactory to himself. Already he has formed his system of opinions according to which he measures and marks out the ways of God. He calls himself a High Churchman, or he calls himself Evangelical; he talks of points of doctrine, discusses disputed questions, baptism, or Church authority, or private judgment, and gets you into conversation that he may judge by your answer whether you belong to his party or not, and he is ready with clever argument and quoted text to prove himself right or to prove you wrong.
III. A question of the heart.—But often the question is put in a very different tone. It has become a question of the heart. ‘Lord, are there few that be saved?’ may be the trembling, earnest, desperate cry of one who is perplexed and bewildered by the dreadful power of evil; who sees that one dark shadow resting upon all; who thinks of the lives which seem to be wasted and aimless, of the purposes which come to nought, of the resolutions which are not fulfilled, of the slumber, the indifference, the sin, in which men throw away the life which God has given them; while here and there are a few whose lives are ‘ saved’ and turned to glorious account, who seem to stand alone in the solitude of their holiness, and to have attained a stature which enables them to breathe a purer air. ‘ Lord, are there few that be saved?’ Are we straitened in Thee, or are we straitened in ourselves? Is our Father’s love, indeed, restrained within such narrow limits? Are there indeed so few to whom it shall be given to have victory and to triumph over the world, the flesh, and the devil? Is it not written that the world has been redeemed?
In this way the meaning of our question deepens down according to the depth of character and the earnestness of purpose of him who asks it.

THE DESOLATE HOUSE
‘Behold, your house is left unto you desolate.’
Luke 13:35
There is no such mournful passage in all history as this. The danger is that we think of old Jerusalem, a city now practically extinct, a city that flourished nineteen hundred years ago. This is Jerusalem, and me are the rejecting inhabitants.
I. Christ rejected.—We every day reject overtures of love, and turn our backs on doors that open to give us hospitality and rest. Every day we insult Deity; every day we put our fingers in our ears and shut out the most charming music; every day we desire the night to come in order that we may do the deed of darkness. That is the mystery of experience that makes all the realities of revelation possible to our faith.
II. Christ’s tenderness. ‘Behold, your house is left unto you desolate.’ Your house is ‘ desolate.’ It was not shouted, it was not uttered in denunciation; there was no accent of threatening in the tone. The pathos of the word is its power. We do amiss to think that Jesus Christ pronounced His woes as if they were resentments or angry threatenings. They were full of tears; they would have been nothing but for their pathos.
III. Choose ye!—Still is the cry, ‘Choose ye this day whom ye will serve.’ But if we reject Christ once and again, and three times and seven times; if we keep Him standing knocking at the door and never reply, we must not wonder if, when after a long time we open the door to see if He is still there, we find He is gone. ‘Your house is left unto you desolate.’ You do not know how much your house owes now to the very knock you never answer. Christ cannot even be outside the door without a blessing being about the house. His very presence is a benediction; His very touch is a security. So long as He is found there outside, wet with dew, all night choking His voice into a moan, your house is not without a comfort. The accidental blessings, the blessings which come through Christ’s presence and ministry, you can never calculate. But when He is gone, when He no longer knocks at your door, then ‘your house is left unto you desolate.’