Romans 1:21
The Preacher:
Howard G. Hageman was President in 1959 of the General Synod, Reformed Church in America. He was Lector at New Brunswick Seminary (Liturgics) from 1952–57, and Exchange Lecturer in Theology to the Union of South Africa in 1956. He holds the A.B. from Harvard University, B.D. from New Brunswick Seminary, and was awarded the honorary D.D. by Central College, Pella, Iowa, in 1957. He is author of two books, Lily Among the Thorns and We Call This Friday Good, published this year. Dr. Hageman is also an amateur organist. He has traveled twice to Europe, in the summers of 1950 and 1953.
The Text:
Because that, when they knew God, they glorified Him not as God, neither were thankful; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened.
Heidelberg Catechism #86
Q. Since then we are redeemed from our misery by grace through Christ, without any merit of ours, why must we do good works?
A. Because Christ, after He hath redeemed us by His blood, also reneweth us by His Holy Spirit in His own likeness, that with our whole life we may show ourselves thankful to God for His blessing and that He may be praised by us; then also that we in ourselves may be assured of our faith from its fruits, and by our godly walk may win our neighbors to Christ.
Even the casual observer of the American scene is struck today by a strange fact. America seems to be on a religious boom and a moral bust! Pick up the daily paper and on one page you will read of crowded churches, bigger budgets, and new buildings. All the statistics will clearly indicate that never before in history has the American Church been so prosperous or commanded the allegiance of so large a percentage of the population. But turn to the next page in the same paper and you will read of mounting crime, increasing disrespect for law and order (and that often on the part of respectable people). Even the advertisements will tell you, if you did not know it already, that lust and obscenity no longer need to hide in our society. A religious boom and a moral bust … is this not a hard thing to account for?
Paul would not have thought so! Indeed, he would not have found this apparent contradiction nearly so strange as we do. For he had seen exactly the same situation in the society to which he sought to bring the Gospel. The Roman Empire of the first century was an extremely religious place. The number of cults and sects was almost impossible to determine. Yet there were always those who were anxious to try another when it came along. Every city was crowded with temples and shrines. Men of high degree and low sought to ease their troubled spirits by sharing in religious practices of an almost fantastic character. Could one of Dr. Gallup’s assistants have polled the man in the street in ancient Rome, he would have found that as large a percentage of them believed in God as in present day America. It was a very religious age.
But it was also a very immoral age. As one of its own observers said, it was a time that was eaten out at the heart. Responsibility, family loyalty and solidarity, integrity—these solid virtues which had once made the Roman republic feared and honored throughout the known world had all but disappeared, having been swept away in a vast flood of lust and lying, immorality and indulgence. The same fascination with obscenity, the same lack of reliable responsibility, the same selfish pursuit of comfort and convenience that we know today, Paul knew too. He was well acquainted with the phenomenon of a religious boom and a moral bust.
And in the opening words of his letter to the Christians in Rome, among whom he is soon to come, he seeks to analyze the reasons for the situation. How can you account for this strange paradox? How can religious intensity go hand in hand with the vain imagination and the darkened heart? How can men believe in God and produce such a moral mess? How? The flaw, as the Apostle clearly sees, is in their religion. Yes, it is their religion that has produced their immorality. “Because that, when they knew God, they glorified Him not as God, neither were thankful.”
Now certainly there is a word here for present-day America. For if ever there was a nation which kidded itself religiously, it is ours. Face to face with an opponent that scoffs at and derides all religion, we point with pride to our statistics (99 per cent of our people believe that there is a God!) and feel safety in them. Sweeping under the rug, as it were, our mounting moral failure, we pride ourselves on our religious boom, believing that it will guarantee us against any future. After all, can any other nation produce the same impressive religious statistics? After all, will not the good God look after his own?
But here is Paul to remind us that such reasoning is not only false but dangerous. Here is Paul to remind us that there is a kind of religion which can prove our undoing. Here is the Apostle to witness that religion of that kind can destroy a nation, a civilization. Here he says that it is not enough to believe in God. A nation can believe in God 100 per cent and still go to hell. After all the devils also believe that (which indicates they have better sense than some of us)—and what good does it do them? At least, when they believe, they tremble. Religion which believes in God but refuses to glorify him as God is not only foolish but fatal. And the time is here when we must ask ourselves whether in wide areas this is not the religion we have. “Because that, when they knew God, they glorified Him not as God, neither were thankful: but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened.”
There can be danger in religion, fatal danger. Whenever a man says, “I believe in God” and then proceeds calmly to order the affairs of his life, his business, as though there were no one but himself to consider, though he knows God, he is not glorifying him as God—and the result can only be disaster. Whenever a woman piously sings, “More love to Thee, O Christ, more love to Thee” and then shuts her heart against a neighbor or gossips maliciously, though she knows God, she is not glorifying him as God—and the result can only be disaster. Whenever anyone prays “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors” and then rises from his knees, looks at the brother who has wronged him, and says, “But I cannot forget what you did to me,” though he knows God, he is not glorifying him as God—and the result can only be disaster. Multiply this kind of thing by the thousands and you will begin to understand the reason for our religious boom and our moral bust.
It would be easy to answer an inquiry into the reason behind this failure to practice to match profession by saying, “Hypocrisy.” That answer, so often flung at the Church by the world, does not go deep enough, however. Paul saw more deeply into the reason. The real reason men, though they know God, fail to glorify him as God is their lack of gratitude. Neither were they thankful.
Here is the Christian motivation for righteous and godly living—the only way in which God can be glorified: gratitude. We have lots of people who say, “I must be good because I am afraid”; lots of people who say, “I must be good because I want God to be good to me”; lots of people who say, “I must be good because I want my neighbors to think well of me.” We have all too few who say, “I must be good because I am grateful.” Yet when we stop to consider all that God has done, is doing, and is yet to do for us, what else can we say?
Who of us when he stops to consider the Manger in Bethlehem, the Cross of Calvary, the Empty Tomb in Joseph’s lovely garden; who of us when he feels the constant and abiding presence of the Spirit in his life; who of us when he hears again the trumpet sound of the promised final victory; who of us when he realizes that all this was for him can fail to be thankful? Who of us will not cry out with the Psalmist, “What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits to me?”
I have always been interested in the way in which the Heidelberg Catechism deals with the Ten Commandments. That Catechism, as you know, is divided into three parts; of man’s misery; of his redemption; and of thankfulness. What is striking is that the consideration of the Ten Commandments occurs in the third section under the heading “Of Thankfulness.” Think of it—those same commandments which have inspired men with fear and awe placed under the heading of thankfulness!
But where else could you put them? Since God has done all this for me, here is how I shall show my gratitude to him, by living all of my life, every moment of its existence, according to his will. What else can I do but offer myself as a living sacrifice which is my reasonable service? And how shall I make that living sacrifice except by walking gratefully in the way of his commandments? Before his grace touched my heart, the law was a terror, but now it is my delight. By the law I seek to glorify God, because I am grateful. That kind of religion will never know a moral bust.
It is all summed up in the question with which the Catechism introduces the topic of thankfulness. “Since then we are redeemed from our misery by grace through Christ,” it asks in its 86th question, “without any merit of ours, why must we do good works?” Notice the language of the answer. “Because Christ, after he hath redeemed us by his blood, also reneweth us by his Holy Spirit in his own likeness, that with our whole life we may show ourselves thankful to God for his blessing and that he may be praised by us.” That’s what it means to believe. Not merely to nod the head in assent and then pick up life where we left it, not merely to fasten upon a Creator as the most logical explanation for the mystery of the universe, not merely to guess that “Somebody up there likes me,” but to bring every thought, every deed, every act, every word into obedience to the mind and spirit of Christ. Faith is one part gratitude and one part obedience.
You will notice that the Apostle calls attention to at least two results of this false religion that knows God without glorifying him as God. “They became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened.” When a man has only this selfish and cheap religion, he begins to imagine all sorts of things. He is terrified by all kinds of fears and questionings, haunted day and night by shadows. Life becomes strange and difficult. He becomes vain in his imagination.
Furthermore, his foolish heart is darkened. He can no longer think straight or see straight. The whole picture of life and the world is distorted, out of perspective. He no longer sees the Father above nor his brother man around. He sees only himself. That means that his decisions are crooked because his perspective is poor. Having banished God to the outermost margin, how could the picture be right? Small wonder that his foolish heart is darkened.
We could spend a good deal of time emphasizing that here is the real reason for much of the world’s mistaken outlook, its unreasoning panic. It is the natural and inevitable result of a false religion, a religion that knows God but rejects the necessity of glorifying him as God. Whenever a man toys with God in this way, saying “Yes, I believe, but I want to be let alone to enjoy my own life,” vain imaginations and a darkened heart are always the result.
But I cannot forbear pointing out the two results which the Catechism lists for the life that seeks to show itself thankful to God in every way. The first of them is assurance. “That we in ourselves may be assured of our faith from its fruits.” When a man is seeking to glorify God with his whole being, he does not have to ask himself nervously about God nor timorously wonder what God thinks of him. Walking in the way of gratitude, offering every action of his life to God’s glory, he has no time for vain imaginations. He has nothing to fear. Secure in his confidence in his Redeemer, he finds that love has cast out fear.
The second result is a life that attracts. “By our godly walk we win our neighbors to Christ.” The darkened heart sees nothing but itself. But the heart which is daily glorifying God sees the world as God means it to be. And that clear vision is compelling. That integrity of purpose, that steadfastness of mind, that purity of heart wins and attracts. Yes, it wins and attracts those same foolish and darkened hearts that are sick of the shadows and longing to find the light. With all due deference to the preacher in his pulpit, here is the sermon that really grips and holds—the sermon that is quietly preached by ordinary men and women whose daily living is an offering to the glory of God, swelling up from the gratitude which has filled their hearts.
You have all known people like that, I am sure. But why should the whole congregation of Christ’s people not be like that? Why indeed, unless even in our midst there are those who, though they know God, refuse to glorify him as God, those who hold back in a mistaken sense of their own importance. Foolish and darkened hearts, haunted by the vanity of your own imaginations, the assured and attractive life is yours! Christ came to give it to you. Why not stop fooling yourself about your religion? Unless not just in church on Sunday but tomorrow in the office, the school, the home, over the coffee cup, you are seeking to glorify Him, your religion is false and dangerous. It will not save you; it will destroy you.
For the faith of the nation we are not responsible. But we are responsible for the faith of the Church. If the Church is indeed the Church, a congregation of men and women whose faith is not only knowledge but gratitude and obedience, we need not fear for the faith of the nation. The compelling witness of such a Church will speak to the heart of the weary world around it. Do you believe enough to be grateful? Then show your gratitude not only with your lips but with your life! Amen.
Comment On The Sermon
The sermon “Our Religious Boom and Moral Bust” was nominated forCHRISTIANITY TODAY’SSelect Sermon Series by Dr. Henry Bast, Professor of Practical Theology at Western Theological Seminary in Holland, Michigan, and radio preacher since 1952 on the Temple Time broadcast supported by the Reformed Church in America. Dr. Bast’s overcomment follows:
We were in hearty agreement with CHRISTIANITY TODAY’s expressed desire that the sermon be “an authentic reflection of the denominational tradition from which the sermon is chosen.” Our denomination stems directly from the Reformation and has had a strong tradition in doctrinal preaching. A catechism sermon best reflects our distinctive tradition.
The constitution of the Reformed Church states: “Every minister must explain to his congregation at an ordinary service on the Lord’s Day the points of doctrine contained in the Heidelberg Catechism, so that the exposition may be completed within the term of four years.” This does not put the catechism on a level with the Bible, for the same constitution states that the Bible is the only rule of faith and practice of the Church. But the Reformed Church is a confessional church and this constitutional provision is made so that the doctrines of the Church will be preached. This is a good thing. It keeps the preachers from riding hobbies. It means that the flock will be fed with the whole counsel of God. It means that both Law and Gospel will be preached. It also requires preaching on the meaning of the Sacraments, thus keeping the Word and the Sacraments together.
The sermon is introduced by a “life situation.” The preacher briefly discusses a serious fault in our national life and exposes a major weakness in the church. Then with true homiletical skill he moves from the problem to its only solution by bringing the text to bear on it. One of the sermon’s strong points is relevance. The preacher not only speaks in the language of the day but speaks to a problem of the day. In facing that problem, he does not speak in despair, or wring his hands, or merely lament that it exists. He looks at it as the Word of God does, realistically, and then points to the solution for all who are ready to hear.
Another homiletical point is the preacher’s use of the catechism in relation to the text. The text teaches us that gratitude is an essential mark of true religion. Now, at this point, a preacher could move in a number of directions. But this preacher with the Bible and the catechism before him moves in a true direction, in fact, in the ultimate direction that the letter to the Romans takes, for he expounds this gratitude or thankfulness in terms of obedience to the Word of God. This is the catechism exposition of the text and it is biblical.
My concluding observation concerns application, and the note on which the sermon ends. Spurgeon used to say that the sermon begins where the application begins. One real weakness in modern preaching is that there is little applicaton. This sermon creeps up on you; you feel the application coming the moment the text is applied to the situation, but in the end you are faced with a clear alternative. You are either for Christ or against him; and, if for Christ, you must walk in his way in true obedience. And there is something we can do: “We are responsible for the faith of the Church.” Finally, here is the note of hope which ought to be in every true Christian sermon. You cannot do this yourself; but in Christ, crucified and risen, you can do this now.
Samuel M. Shoemaker is the author of a number of popular books and the gifted Rector of Calvary Episcopal Church in Pittsburgh. He is known for his effective leadership of laymen and his deeply spiritual approach to all vital issues.
