S. I AM A DEBTOR

I AM A DEBTOR Dr. W. A. Criswell Rom 1:14 06-27-54

Rom 1:8 :

First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for you all, that your faith is spoken of throughout the whole world. For God is my witness, whom I serve with my spirit and the gospel of his Son, that without ceasing I make mention of you always in my prayers;

Making requests, if by any means now at length I might have a prosperous journey by the will of God to come unto you. For I long to see you, that I may impart unto you some spiritual gifts, to the end ye may be established; That is, that I may be comforted together with you by the mutual faith both of you and me.

Now I would not have you without knowledge, brethren, that often times I purposed to come unto you, (but was hinder hitherto,) that I may have some fruit among you also, even as among other Gentiles.

I am debtor both to the Greeks and to the Barbarians; both to the wise, and to the unwise.

Then my text for tonight: For as much as in me is, I am ready to preach the gospel to you that are at Rome also. For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God and the salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek. And the sermon this morning is in Rom 1:14 : “I am debtor both to the Greek, and to the Barbarians; both to the wise, and to the unwise.” That is, he is under tribute and obligation to all of the peoples, and nations, and cultures, and languages, tribes and families of the world. By that grouping- Greek (the cultured and educated Greco-Romans); The Barbarians (the man untouched by the higher cultures of civilization); The wise (those who are trained in the way of the Lord); And the unwise (those to whom the message has never been made known)- I am debtor to them all.

That’s a strange thing for a man to say, isn’t it? That he should refer to the fact that he is loaded down with debt to all of the families, and nations, and peoples, and tribes of the world. What does he mean when he says he is under obligation? He has a debt to pay? Well, it is a debt of a man who has “the message of life,” to a man who is dying; it is that kind of a debt.

It is a kind of a debt as if you stood by the bedside and saw a fellow perishing with an unspeakable, indescribable, loathsome and incurable disease and you knew the remedy; you knew how to make him well and strong; you knew how to heal him of his malignancy, of his malady; you had an answer. Because you know, you have a debt to that man who lies there in agony and in death.

It is the same kind of a debt as if you and a party were lost in the desert. And you left the group, searching for water to drink, and you found it-a crystal pool of clear, cool spring water; and the palms grew by the stream. And you bathed in it; and you drank it; and you sat down under the palm and enjoyed it; and forgot of the party that is perishing and famishing of thirst.

You have a debt! You are under obligation! “I have found the water! I have found a spring!” You have a debt to return to the party and say: “This is the way of life! I have found water, water to drink!”

“I am debtor!” It is the same kind of debt that the Good Samaritan felt that he owed to the more wretched traveler who fell among thieves on the road to Jericho. He was lying there in his own blood, robbed and beaten and left for dead. And the Samaritan passed by and he felt that he owed that wretched, dying, robbed, beaten man-owed him life, protection and care-a debt.

It is the same kind of a debt as if you were in a boat and were rowing down across the lake. And in front of you, a boat capsized and sank and the poor wretches were struggling in the water. And they lifted up their arms to you, crying for help. And you, in your boat as you row by, you have a debt, an obligation. “I am debtor to the Greek, to the Barbarian… to the wise, to the unwise: “That kind of a debt.

It is another kind of a debt Paul felt in his own life and heart-and in the kingdom of the gospel of the message that he was preaching in the name of Christ Jesus-that all of these somehow had made a contribution to the progress and the furtherance of the preaching of the gospel.

We owe them a debt, all of them. The Greek-what did he do for the gospel? The language the gospel was preached in, and the language the gospel was first written in, was the incomparably beautiful and expressive language of the Hellenes; it was the universal tongue. And the Greeks had spread a universal culture. And in that culture, and in that language, the gospel of the Lord Jesus was preached and it was written. And all of the civilized world heard it because of the inheritance they had received from the hand of the Greek.

What did he owe to the Romans? The Romans built the road that the gospel message traveled over. The Romans insured a peaceful world. The Romans put together the one great empire, all of the known civilized world-law, order, justice, the inter-communication of people and ideas-all of it was a gift of Rome. The Jew-what did he owe the Jew? I say to you in my humble opinion, the greatest debt that the world owes today is to the Jew. To the Jew! In so many places, hated and despised, and outcast-put in his ghetto-are the victim of violent anti-Semitism-the world owes its greatest debt to the Jew. Why, through them was delivered the oracles of God, the prophets, the apostles and, according to the slate, our own savior, the Son of God and the son of Mary.

What does he owe to the Barbarians? The vast, uncultured groups who inhabited the darkened continent and the fringes of the civilized world-what did he owe to them? Much, in every way: their humility; their eager readiness to believe, to accept. And their worship of the Great Spirit whose name they could not fathom, but whose presence they intuitively knew. A debtor to all of the families, and languages, and tribes, and peoples, and nations of the world-I am a debtor! And now, to bring that to our heart and to us today, we are debtors, all of us! We are debtor to the people who live before us and to all of our contemporaries today. There is not any man dependent unto himself. We are dependent upon them; we are under tribute, and under obligation, to them. In the last several years, it has grown popular to write stories in magazines about successful men. Sometimes they are autobiographical. And those men parade before our people as examples of great success; or they operate before us as examples of great success. We have some of those men here in Dallas. I have read of them in some of the magazines of America. And I am proud of them; and proud of their success. And I thank God for all that they have done. But I also have this comment to make: there is not a man among them, not a one of them, but that owes his success to somebody else; he’s a debtor to somebody else. Nineteen-twenties of everything that he has was given to him by somebody who lived before. And the other one-twentieth was given by a contemporary. He is a debtor-with all of his prowess and all of his good fortune. For one thing, when he rises from bed in the morning, he couldn’t rise, he wouldn’t be there to rise, had it not been for his mother’s pain and the blessing of an early home. He rises, having spent a night’s sleep in safety: but the reason that he slept in safety was because somebody died that he might be saved. An unknown guardian watched over him during the night. He dresses: but the clothes that he puts on, he didn’t spin or weave or make. And he speaks: but the language that he uses was created by a thousand Miltons who turned it into silver bells and by the blood of men who died for freedom of speech. He gets in an automobile that he didn’t make-unknown men carved out and ferreted it out-all of the patents that go into that complicated machine. And he comes downtown and he walks on these streets that he didn’t build. And he goes up into an office that he didn’t erect. And he uses a telephone that didn’t invent. And he looks out of the windowpanes that he didn’t discover. And he uses electricity that he didn’t discover… And why go on?

Just exactly what did he do? Just exactly what? He is a debtor, a debtor! And all that he has, he owes to someone else. In the Book it says, “we brought nothing into this world.” In this Book it says, “that all that we have, first we received.”

Robert Louis Stevenson, one time, suddenly remarked, regarding the pride of our human family: “To every man’s hand, something is given. If it be nothing less than four fingers and a thumb.” I never made them; somebody put them there. I am a debtor to somebody else. When we turn to the church, and our Christian faith, and our Christian lives, under what tribute, and what obligation, does the Christian find himself a debtor. This church here-I have been here ten years-it was here before I came. Some of you have been here forty years… fifty years… sixty years! It was here before you came. Somebody, back yonder before we came into this fellowship, founded here in this city this blessed church. And they watered it with their tears; and they sacrificed for it; and they nurtured it, and cared for it, and ministered to it-all of them in the days and in the years that are past. Our singer here says: “We will now turn to the hymn and sing the hymns.” He didn’t write that hymn! Nor did I! Nor did we! The songs that we sing-somebody gave them to us. And the Bible that I hold in my hand-I didn’t write it! We did not write it! Neither did our fathers and mothers write it. Back yonder, back yonder, back yonder, in the dim ages of the past, thousands and thousands of years ago, did men pick up a pen and, under the hand of God, and for a period of two thousand years, were they inspired to write the Revelation of the oracles of Almighty God. The fact that we meet here today, unmolested and unafraid-what if our congregation was in Moscow? What it our congregation was in Peking? I wonder if I would be here at all? I wonder if this congregation would meet unmolested? For the freedom of this assembly, we owe a debt, an obligation. We are under tribute to how many? To whom? Their blood, their lives-how much do we owe!!! And when I speak of our Savior, the Lord Jesus-“we’re not our own.” Paul said in Corinthians: “Bought with a price-He paid it all.” Robert Murray McCheyene died when he was thirty years old. He burnt himself out-a young Scots preacher, lived a little over a hundred years ago-but he left an indelible impression upon the world; though he died when he was thirty. And one of the most beautiful poems, I think, in the English language is this written by that young preacher entitled: “How Much I Owe.” When this passing world is done When it has sunk beyond glowing sun When we stand with Christ in glory Looking over our life, our finished story Then, Lord, shall I fully know Not till then how much I owe When I stand before the throne Dressed in beauty not my own When I see Thee as Thou art Loving with unsinning heart Then Lord, shall I fully know Not till then how much I owe When the praise of heaven I hear Loud as thunder to the ear Loud as many waters’ noise Sweet as harps’ melodious voice Then, Lord, shall I fully know Not till then how much I owe Even on earth, and through a glass Darkly, let thy glory pass Make forgiveness feel so sweet Make Thy spirit’s help so meet Each on earth, Lord, make me know Something of how much I owe

I am debtor! We are debtors to the grace and mercy, to the life and atoning death of the Son of God! We are in His debt! And now, turning to the other: we are debtors to those who need us. There is not a broken, pained, tortured body; there is not a lost sheep; there is not a storm-driven soul; there is not a leper; there is not a darkened mind and a clouded life but to whom, you and I owe the debt of the unfathomable, unsearchable riches of the mercy of God in Christ Jesus.

God made it that way. We are in their debt. That’s the reason, and in it, the heart of this church beats as one. That’s the reason that over yonder, we have a west Dallas mission. And over yonder, we have our Hampton Road mission. And right over there, we support our Dallas Community Center and right beyond, we bought, and helped to build, the first Mexican church here in this city. We owe a debt to our Latin Americans and, as faithfully and valiantly as we know how, we are trying to be true to that obligation. There is a part of all that you bring here, to this church that goes into that ministry.

That’s the reason that over yonder, and over yonder, and, when the Supreme Court had given itself decision, over yonder we shall have our third Anglo mission, ministering to thousands of people in this city. Our debt, our obligation of the tribute-that’s the reason that as I went around with Dr. Goldi, visiting the lepers in Nigeria, West Africa, all through that great, vast country, clan settlements-where they picked up the outcasts because the leper cannot associate in the family any longer; nor can he visit in the village any longer; nor can he have a home where other people live any longer. And they are pressed outside and pushed away; and we gather them up and in clan settlements all through the country, we gather them up. And the physicians with his nurse, his male nurse, the physician makes regular journeys, bringing to them medicine, looking at their sores, caring for their leprous body. Who sent out that missionary? We did! Who buys that medicine? We do! Who built those clan settlements? We did! Why? Why? Because of the unspeakable, unfathomable, indescribable urge on the inside when a man becomes a child of God-a debt to pay! Part of everything you bring to this church goes over there. And I haven’t time to speak of the ministry that we seek to share with our brethren that goes all the way around this earth. While we believe, carrying on, all the debt-the debt that we owe. And I’m glad to share it-no burden to me! There’s an unspeakable joy; there is an inevitable gladness; there is an indescribable celestial holiness that comes from the knowledge that-through this blessed church and in what little that I am able to dedicate to its work-I have a part in ministry to the need of our world. I am debtor! I am debtor! And now the last: I cannot remember when I didn’t hear people refer to the fact that we have one last debt to pay. You know what they mean by it. We have a final debt to pay; and all of us have it-a final debt. They are talking about our inevitable, and final, hour when we pay back the debt of this life in death. A final debt to pay: go through those cemeteries… “paid in full,” “paid in full,” “paid in full.” We all have a rendezvous with the pale horseman, a final debt to pay. And it is sobering! It is sobering!

I sat down this week with one or two men in the Baraca Sunday School Class. We got to talking about our wonderful friends in that class, some already over the divide, some who are looking into the face of God even now. And one of the men remarked, he says: “You know, there were six of us that-every Monday-we sat down and talked about our class, six of us in the class, meeting every Monday-four of them gone-two of us left.” A few weeks ago, accepting an invitation to speak in California, I went out there, not nearly so much to speak as it was to see my mother. Go up there into the cemetery, stand there on the side of a valley. Look down there-my name on that grave. I have my father’s name. You can’t stand and read your own name “there” without having a sobering affect-just a matter of this long, or this long-this many days, or this many days-that debt that we pay. But that’s not the last one. There’s another one still. I’ve always thought there is another one still. I have another debt. I have another rendezvous. I have another obligation. You know what it is? It is not just to die. It is not just that this body be given back to the ground from whence it came, that we inevitably return-paying the debt. But there is another. I have a debt, a rendezvous to make. It is in glory. It is in heaven. And I ought to make it. Don’t you think? You ought to make it. Don’t you think? When the family gathering there, ought you to be there? When God calls the roll in glory, shouldn’t your name be there?

We’re invited to the marriage supper of the lamb and it is one invitation we ought to accept. We ought to make it. We ought to be there when the Lord opens the portals of glory and the saints go marching in, in that number. Don’t you belong? Do not I? Do not we? The debt we finally owe-that the grace of God was not shed in us, and for us, in vain-but that we kept the appointment.

“Lord, when the hour strikes, and the great day comes, that rendezvous I’ll make. I’ll be there, Lord, for the great and final debt to which I will be true. I’ll make it, Lord! I’ll be there! I am debtor to do it.

It is not a heaven without you-you know that? I guess God in his infinite wisdom has to make it heaven when our families aren’t there. But I still say it is not as heavenly as it could have been had you made it. With you gone-however the Lord turns it-it is not as glorious as had you made it.

Somehow, I think you owe that debt to be there when God’s great heavenly day brings together His children in this earth. You want to be there.

That’s the reason we preach the gospel. That’s the reason Paul said: So as much as is in me, I’m ready to preach the gospel to you that are at Rome… For it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that will receive it.

I’m ready to preach the gospel. It is the power of God. And we owe it to God to accept it. It is a debt to pay.

We must sing our song. While we sing it, from side to side, anywhere, everywhere, somebody you. Would you step in this aisle and down here to the front and stand by me?

“Here I am, Pastor, and here I come.” Is there a child this morning, a you, a family, today: “Preacher, I’ll give my heart to the Lord in faith, in trust, here I come. And here I am.” Is there a family of you to come into the church? Today, while we make this appeal, would you come into the aisle and down to the front. “Here we are, Pastor, all of us.” On the radio as we go along, if you listen to this appeal this day, by your radio, in the chair, or in the bed where you sit or lie, would you give your heart to God? Would you say: “Lord, the humblest best I know how, I give my soul and my life in Thy keeping, in Thy trust.” Anywhere in this vast auditorium, while we sing the song, and make appeal-giving your heart to the Lord or into the fellowship of His church. Would you come and stand by me, while all of us stand and sing together?