03.05. THE HID TREASURE AND THE PEARL OF PRICE

THE HID TREASURE AND THE PEARL OF PRICE Matthew 13:44-46

These two parables have one and the same object. They are meant to exhibit the incomparable value of the kingdom of heaven. They exhibit this value not by attempting to describe the kingdom or its various advantages, but by depicting the eagerness with which he who finds it and recognizes its value, parts with all to make it his own. This eagerness is not dependent on the previous expectations or views or condition of the finder of the kingdom, but is alike displayed whether the finder is lifted by his discovery out of acknowledged poverty, or has his hands already filled with goodly pearls; whether he has no outlook and hope at all, or is eagerly seeking for perfect happiness. The one parable illustrates the eagerness of a poor man who lights upon the treasure apparently by accident; the other illustrates the eagerness of a rich man whose finding of the pearl of price is the result of carefully studied and long sustained search. This difference in the two parables sets clearly before the mind a distinction which is frequently apparent among those who become Christians. Men naturally view life very differently, and take up from the first very various attitudes towards the world into which we all have come. One person is from the first quite at home in it, another slinks through it as if there were nothing friendly or congenial to him here. One man seems to regard it as a banqueting house which is to be made the most of ere the sun rise and dispel his illusion, while another uses it as a battle-field where conquests are to be made, and where all is to be done in grim earnest and strenuously with no thought of pleasure. And as these parables indicate, there are men born with placid and contented natures, others with eager, soaring, insatiable spirits; some, in a word, are born merchants, others day-laborers. Some, that is, are born with a noble instinct which never forsakes them, but prompts them to believe that there is infinite joy and satisfaction to be found, and that it shall be theirs: they cannot rest with small things, but are driven always forward to more and higher. Others, again, never look beyond their present attainment, cannot understand the restless ambition that weeps for more worlds, have no speculation in them, no broad plan of life, nor much idea that any purpose is to be served by it. They have the peaceful, happy industry which makes the day’s labor easy, but not the enterprise which can plan a life’s work and make every available material on earth subserve its plan. This difference, when exhibited in connection with religion, becomes very marked. Looking upon some men, you would say you don’t know how ever they are to be brought to Christ, they are so thoroughly at home and at rest in their daily business, and this seems to afford them so much interest, satisfaction, and reward that you cannot fancy them so much as once reflecting whether something more is not needed. They seem so peculiarly fitted for this world, you can fancy them going on in the same sphere forever. Of others, again, you are perpetually wondering how they have not long ago found what they have been so long seeking; you know that, employ themselves as they will in this world, their inward thought is writing vanity on all this world gives them — they crave a spiritual treasure. In the first of these two parables, then, we see how the kingdom of heaven is sometimes found by those who are not seeking it. The point of this part of the parable and its distinction from the other seems to lie in this, that while the man was giving a deeper furrow to his field, intent only on his team, his plowshare suddenly grated on the slab that concealed or rung upon the chest that contained the treasure, or turned up a glittering coin that had fallen out in the hasty burial of the store. Or he may have been sauntering through a neighbor’s field, when his eye is suddenly attracted by some sign which makes his heart leap to his mouth and fixes him for the moment to the spot, because he knows that treasure must be there. He went out in the morning thinking of nothing less than that before nightfall his fortune would be made — suddenly, without effort or expectation of his, he sees untold wealth within his grasp. He knows nothing of the history of the treasure — does not know on whose feet these bright anklets gleamed in the dance, knows none of the touching memories that are associated with that signet ring, nothing of the long hard strife by which these gold-pieces were acquired, nor of the disaster which tore them from the reluctant hand of the possessor. It is not his blood that has dyed the gold on that jewel-hilted scimitar. He can imagine the careworn man when trouble and war overran the land, stealing out in the darkness and making his treasure secure, and marking it by signs which, alas he was never again to note; but he knows nothing of him, knew nothing of him. Ages before, this treasure had been hid; for him it had been prepared without any intention or labor of his, and now suddenly he lights upon it; out of poverty he to his own astonishment steps into wealth, and his whole life is changed for him without hope or effort of his own.

So, says our Lord, is the kingdom of heaven. Suddenly, in the midst of other thoughts a man is brought face to face with Christ, and while earning his daily bread and seeking for no more than success in life can give him, unexpectedly finds that eternal things are his. Christ is found of them that sought Him not. Is it not often so? The man has begun life not thinking that any very great thing can be made of it, as little as the plowman expects to be lord of the manor, and to own the horses, lands, and comforts of the proprietor. He begins with the idea that if he is careful, diligent, and favored by circumstances, life may be pleasant. He has a prospect of a decent, comfortable livelihood, or, at the best, of a good-going business, with margin of leisure for friendly intercourse, the reading of pleasant literature, and so on. He is confident he will marry happily, and live and see good days. In other words, he has extremely modest expectations of what life can do for him: has no soaring anticipations of “the ampler aether, the deviner air,” does not recognize his own capacity nor the size he may grow to, but, like the child for whom the world can do no more if he is promised some favorite toy, fancies that no better thing can come to him than houses, lands, wife and children, friendships and prosperity. Or if he once had visitings of a higher, ampler hope, and seemed to see that round and beyond the successes of business and the common pleasures of life there lay a limitless ocean of feeling and of thought, — worlds upon worlds, like the starry unfathomable firmament, in which the soul might find expanse and joy forever, — these visions have been wiped out by the coarse hand of some early sin, or have been worn from the surface of the mind by the hard traffic of the world; and now what the shriveled creature seeks is possibly but the accomplishment of a daily routine, possibly the attainment of some poor ambition, or the wreaking of a low revenge, or triumph over a rival who has defeated him, or possibly not even anything so definite as that. He had a vision of a life which might fulfil high aims, which might be ennobled and glorified throughout by true and pervading fellowship with God, he once was confident that what the human imagination could conceive of good, that, and far more than that, was possible to the human nature, and to every man who had it; but that bright vision has passed as the morning, all aglow with light and freshness, is quenched in rain and cloud and gloomy wretchedness.

This, then, is in point of fact the condition of many a man as he passes through life — he has no conception of the blessedness that awaits him, he has as little hope of any supreme and complete felicity as the man of the parable had any expectation of lighting upon a hid treasure. We only think of what we can make of life, not of the wealth God has laid in our path. But suddenly our steps are arrested; circumstances that seem purely accidental break down the partition that has hemmed us in to time, and we see that eternity is ours. We thought we had a house, 100 acres of land, £1000 well invested, and we find we have God. We were comforting ourselves with the prospect of increased salary, of ampler comforts and advantages, and a voice comes ringing through our soul, “all things are yours, for ye are Christ’s and Christ is God’s.” How it is that the eyes are now opened to this treasure, we can as little tell as the plowman who has driven his slow steers over that same field since first he could guide the plow but has never till this day seen the treasure. A few words casually dropped, a sentence read in an idle moment, some break in our prosperous course, some pause which allows the mind to wander in unaccustomed directions, — one cannot say what is insufficient to bring the wandering and empty soul to a settled possession of the kingdom of heaven, for the treasure seems to be his before he looks for it, before he feels his need of it, before has taken thought or steps about it. This morning he was content with what a man can have outside of God’s kingdom: this evening everything outside that kingdom has lost its value and is as nothing. The man who is lost in mist on a wild hill thinks himself exceptionally well off if he can find a sheepfold to give him shelter, and is thankful if he can see two steps before him and can avoid the precipice; but suddenly the sun shines out, the mist lifts, and he sees before him a boundless prospect, bright placid dwellings of men, and his path leading down to the shining valley with all its stir of life, and now what comforted and sufficed him before is all forgotten.

You will not fail in passing to draw the inference from this presentation of the manner of finding the kingdom, that conversions which have taken place quite unexpectedly and with great ease on the part of the converted person, need not therefore be insufficient and hollow. We are very apt to think that because the kingdom of heaven is so great a treasure a man should spend much labor in attaining it — that as the acceptance of Christ is the most important attainment a man can make, there ought to be some proportionate effort and expectancy on his part — that so great a treasure is not to be made over to one who is not caring for it or thinking of it. But this parable shows us that there may be a finding without any previous seeking, and that the essential thing is, not whether a man has been seeking, and how long, and how earnestly — no, but whether a man has found. The man in the parable would not have found more in that spot had he been seeking more and seeking it elsewhere all his days; the buried money was not accumulating interest while he was spending years in the search. The very same treasure may be found by the man who has grown gray in the quest of treasure, and by the child who plays in the field; by the alchemist who has spent his life in examining the boasted tests for finding treasure, and by the laboring man who has never heard of such tests and does not dream of finding sudden wealth. The question is, Does a man know the value of what has turned up before him, and is he so in earnest as to sell all for it? Let us not hesitate to believe that in one hour some heedless person has found what we have all our life been seeking, if only he shows his appreciation of the treasure by parting with all for it. The second parable introduces us to the other, the higher type of man, the merchantman — the man who has not moderate expectations, who refuses ever to be satisfied until he has all, who is always meditating new ventures, and to whom his present possessions are only of value as the means of acquiring what is yet beyond his reach. He sets out with the inborn conviction or instinct that there is something worth seeking, worth the labor and the search of a life, something which will abundantly repay us, and to which we can wholly, freely, and eternally give ourselves up, and on which we shall delight to spend our whole strength, capabilities, and life. He refuses to be satisfied with the moderate, often interrupted and often quenched joys of this life. He considers physical health, the respect of his fellow-men, a good education, good social position, and so forth, as all goodly pearls, but he is not going to sit down satisfied with these things if there is anything better to be had. He refuses to have anything short of the best. He goes on from one acquirement to another. Money is good, he at first thinks, but knowledge is better. He parts with the one to get the other. Friendship is good, but love is better, and he cannot satisfy himself with the one, but must also have the other. The respect of his fellows is good, but self-respect and a pure conscience are better. Human love is a goodly pearl, but this only quickens him to crave insatiably for the love of God. He must always have what is beyond and best. He refuses to believe that God has created us to be partially satisfied, happy at intervals, content with effort, believing ourselves blessed, disguising the reality of our condition by the aid of fancy, or fleeing from it on the wings of hope, but to be partakers of His own blessedness, and to enjoy eternally the sufficiency of Him in whom are all things. This spirit of expectation is encouraged by the parable. It stems to say to us, Covet earnestly the best gifts. Never make up your mind merely to endure or merely to be resigned. Test what you have, and if it do not satisfy you wholly, seek for something better. It is not for you who have a God, a God of infinite resource and of infinite love, to accustom yourselves to merely negative blessings and doubtful, limited conditions. You are to start with the belief that you are not made for final disappointment, nor to rest content with something less than you once hoped for or can now conceive, but that there is somewhere, and attainable by you, the most unchallengeable felicity — that there does exist a perfect condition, a pearl of great price, and that there is but a question of the way to it, a question of search. You are to start with this belief, and you are to hold to it to the end. Under no compulsion or enticement, in the face of no disappointment, give up this persuasion that goodly pearls are to be had, and to be had by you, that into your life and soul the full sense of ample possession is one day to enter. When you come up from a breathless eager search like the pearl-diver, spent and bleeding, and with your hands filled only with mud or worthless shells; or when, like the merchant, you have ventured your all, and are reduced to beggary and thrown back to the very beginning, the great hope of your life being taken from you; when all your days seem to have been wasted in fruitless search; when every feeling within you rises up in mutiny against you, and like an ignorant crew scorns your adventure, and would put about and run with the wind back from the new world you seek, put them down; you have certainty on your side, simple, sheer certainty, for “he that seeketh, findeth. The important point in these parables is that which is common to both. The teaching which our Lord desires to convey by their means regards the incomparable value of the kingdom of heaven, and the readiness with which one who perceives its value will give up all for it. He wishes us to consider the alacrity, gladness, and assurance with which one who apprehends the value of the kingdom will and should put aside everything which prevents him from making it his own. It is the usual, universal, mercantile feeling. The merchant does not part with his other possessions reluctantly when he wishes to obtain some better possession; he longs to get rid of them; he goes into the investment about which he has satisfied himself with thorough good will; he clears out as fast as he can from every other investment, and endeavors to realize wherever he can that he may have his means free for this better and more productive venture. People who do not know its value may think the man mad selling out at low prices, at unsuitable times, at a loss; but he knows what he is doing. I don’t care what I lose, he says to himself, for if I can only get that field I shall have infinite compensation for my losses. As soon as he has made up his mind that there is a treasure in the field, he is filled with tremulous, sleepless eagerness, till he makes it his own. Day and night his heart is there and his thoughts. His dreams are full of visions of possession, or of heart-breaking failure. His waking hours are nervously agitated by fears and schemings. He always finds that his road home lies past the longed-for property. He is jealous of the very birds that hover over it. The world is full of stories, and every day adds to the stock of stories that display the ingenuity, craft, perseverance, consuming zeal, spent in winning the bit of ground that is coveted. No labor is grudged, no sacrifice is shrunk from, no present poverty is a trial if it brings the coveted property nearer. But is this a similitude for the kingdom of heaven? Is it not rather a picture of what ought to be than of what is? What we commonly find is that the kingdom of heaven is not so esteemed. We see men hesitating to part with anything for it, looking at it as a sad alternative, as a resort to which they must perhaps betake themselves when too old to enjoy life any longer, as what they may have to come to when all the real joy and intensity of life are gone, but not as that on which life itself can best be spent. Entrance into the kingdom of heaven is looked upon much as entrance into the fortified town is viewed by the rural population. It may be necessary in time of danger, but they will think with longing of the fields and homesteads they must abandon; it is by constraint, not from love, that they make the change. In short, it is plain that men generally do not reckon the kingdom of heaven to be of such value that they sacrifice everything else for its sake. And it is of supreme importance that we should clearly see the grounds on which we base our confidence that we ourselves are exceptions to the general rule, if we have such a confidence. Have we really shown any of that mercantile eagerness which the parable speaks of? Have we in any way shown that the kingdom of heaven is first in our thoughts? What meaning has this “selling of all” in our life? For it is to be observed that there always is this selling wherever the kingdom is won. We have it not at all unless we have given all for it. It is like a choice between living in the town or in the country. We know we cannot do both, and in order to secure the advantages of the one kind of life we must give up those of the other. So, living for ourselves prevents us from living for God, and we cannot do the one without wholly giving up the other. If you value the kingdom of God more than all else, you will eagerly give up everything that prevents your winning it; but no mere pretended esteem for it will prompt you to make the needful sacrifices, or will actually give you possession. If you do not really desire the kingdom more than aught else, then you have not found it. A feigned desire does not move us to obtain anything. It is what you really love that you spend thought and effort and money upon, not what you know you ought to love, and are trying to persuade yourself to love. In conclusion, this parable lets fall these two words of warning — 1. Make your calculations, and act accordingly. If you think the world will pay you better than Christ, then serve it; give yourself heartily and without compunction to it. Do not be so weak as to allow thoughts of things eternal and a spiritual world you have forsaken to haunt you and spoil your enjoyment. Make your choice and act upon it. If there is no better pearl, no richer treasure than what you can win by devotion to business and living for yourself, then by all means choose that, and make the most of it. But if you think that Christ was right, if you foresee that what is outside His kingdom must perish, and that He has gathered within it all that is worthy, all that is enduring, all that is as it ought to be, if you know that you are not and can never be blessed outside that kingdom, then let the reasonableness and remonstrance of this parable move you to show some eagerness in winning that great treasure. Make your choice and act upon it. Let your mind dwell on the objects Christ has in view till you become enamored of them, and till they alone draw you and command your effort. Strive to shake off the pitiful avarice, the timorous anxieties, the cowardly self-seeking, the low, earthly, stupid aims of the man who serves the world, and let the Spirit of Christ draw you into fellowship with His aims, and give you a place in His kingdom.

2. If you have this treasure, do not murmur at the price you have paid for it. If you have to forego earthly advancement, if you are inwardly constrained to part with money which might have brought many comforts, if you have been drawn to do things which are misconstrued and which make you feel awkward with your friends, if self asserts itself again and again, and claims pleasure and gain and gratification of various kinds, do not murmur at what the kingdom is costing you, but rather count over your treasure, and see how much more you have than you have lost. Having what worlds cannot buy, you will surely not vex yourself by longing for this or that which the poorest spirited slave of this world can easily obtain. Suppose you had the offer to barter your interest in the kingdom for any or all of the possessions, advantages, and pleasures you are deprived of, you would not do it; if, then, in your own judgment, and by your own deliberate choice you have the better portion, it is scarcely fair to bewail yourself as an ill-used person. Anything you have been required to give up for the kingdom’s sake was either of no real value — it was the coin which, so long as you kept it, could neither warn nor clothe you, and whose only use was to buy valuables; or if of real value, the relinquishment of it has given you what is of infinite value.